Hey, guys. It’s me, Iffy, again. You know my interview yesterday? Well, I just wanted to share another picture of Professor Michael Shannahan. I think there’s more to him that what he let on yesterday! A friend of a friend of a friend emailed this undercover picture of Michael to Silver. He looks…not so friendly or scholarly in this picture. What do you guys think?

Silver and I are on the road today! Yippee! New Orleans here we come! Feel free to talk among yourselves, especially about FAERIE FIRE, but NO SPOILERS! Silver promises to check in as she can! It might be from her iPhone so replies will be short and sweet. Don’t forget Saturday! Semi-finals for the Mr. Summer contest. And comments all this week go in the random drawing for cool swag. Catch you guys later!

Hi, guys, Iffy here. Silver is off packing and otherwise getting ready for our trip to New Orleans. *happy dances* I can’t wait to head out tomorrow! However, we have somebody special to visit with today. But…before I introduce our guest, I want ya’ll to go back to Deirdre’s interview. Read the comments…especially that last one! *squeee* Yes! You read that right!!!! *swoon*

Okay. Back to business. Today, my guest is Professor Michael Shannahan. You met him briefly last week in Deirdre’s excerpt. He is a professor of Irish Literature at Georgetown University and is quite the musician. He performs with the Irish band, Celtic Connection, when he isn’t being all scholarly. Welcome to Penumbra, Michael. Can I get you something to drink?

A bit of tea would hit the spot, thank yee. And thank yee for invitin’ me here t’day. *glances at the title* Though I’m wonderin’ what yee’d be meanin’ by that bit up there?

I have it on good authority that there’s more to you than you admit.

*chuckle* I’m a professor, cailín . Nothing more. Ah, well, beside the bit of music and singin’ on the side.

So, it was just a “slip of the tongue” when you admitted to Moira that Seamus O’Roarke was a member of the IRA?

O’Roarke is scum and gives all Irishmen a bad name.

So how did you know about his…affliations?

I have friends at the British embassy, luv. Nothing nefarious, I assure you.

If you say so. How about Brian Boru? Do you know who he is?

*spits on floor* That bloody terrorist is nothing more than a killer of children and is worse than the very scum of the earth.

Wow. You really don’t like him much. But do you know who he is? MI6 and the CIA both know that’s an alias.

*shakes his head* Do you have a nip of Irish I could put in my tea? And if I knew who he was, I’d do my best to see him come to justice.

Yeah, you and Duncan both.

I’ll admit there are times I wish Ross the best of luck in his hunt.

Well, how about I share the excerpt of the first time you and Moira met while we wait for questions from our readers. You’ll stay around to answer, yes?

‘Twould be happy t’stay an’ visit, cailín .

****
Moira waded into the sea of motley greens swirling through the hotel lobby. An inebriated young man stumbled up to her, a bright green button proclaiming “Kiss me, I’m Irish” dangling from his lapel. Weaving drunkenly, the man tried to plant a kiss on Moira’s lips.

From a vantage point across the room, a slender man watched as she politely steered the drunk away. He wondered if everything he’d heard about the senator’s daughter was true. She had her thick blonde hair twisted into a business-like knot at the nape of her neck. Small, tasteful emeralds, her only ornamentation, glimmered at her ears and throat. The long-sleeved, high-necked black velvet cocktail dress she wore looked almost chaste, even though the fitted bodice and flared skirt showed off a good figure, though one more curvaceous than the current fashion. A Kelly green rose, the same color as the satin shawl draped over her arm, accented the flounced skirt. The colorful touches did little to alleviate the austere picture she presented. The girl probably was all business and no play, as he’d heard through the grapevine.

A laughing couple pushed through the door behind her. He shared her wince at their use of theatrical Irish brogues. In a hurry and paying no attention, they brushed past. The man stumbled into her and Moira teetered on her high heels, fighting to regain her balance.

He arrived beside her in moment, his hands steadying her as he whispered conspiratorially in her ear, “At least they’re only Irish once a year, cailín.” Moira pulled away and turned sharply to face him. “Michael Shanahan.” He extended his hand in introduction.

“Moira O’Connor,” she replied, taking his hand. Moira smiled as their fingers touched.

“Am I that amusin’, then?” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended, but something about her knowing smile put his guard up.

“Not at all,” Moira assured. “In fact, I think you are a most studious man.”

Michael looked askance, puzzled by her statement. “I guess me secret’s out then, but how did yee know?”

“Know what?” Moira looked perplexed.

“That I’m a professor.”

She smiled again as she shook her head slightly. “I didn’t know,” she admitted. “How interesting.”

Michael watched her for a long moment before finally smiling back at her, even though his suspicions weren’t allayed. “You must be very intuitive, Miss O’Connor.” His voice carried a slight edge, and he’d dropped his broader accent. Though a true Irishman, he could wear his accent as needed. “I see your father hasn’t arrived yet,” he continued. “I was sent to fetch the two of you and escort you to the dinner.”

****
So, readers, any questions for our professor?

Who’s got the button? Not me. I completely forgot what I was going to blog about, though it had something to do with buttons. And pushing them. *headdesk* I should have written the idea down when it occurred to me but I got distracted…*ooh, shiny!*…and by the time I sat down to write today’s blog, I got as far as the title. *sigh* Writer’s block? Me? Oh, yeah! My brain is scattered to the four winds as I try to get everything wrapped up for my trip Thursday. Am I leaving at the butt crack of dawn? Uhm…yeah. LSU is playing in the Superdome Thursday night. Which means TRAFFIC! I wish there was another way into the Quarter but without going surface streets, which might take just as long, I’m stuck on the interstate and football traffic.

Oh, look! If you happen to be into digital books, you can go to Digibooks Cafe. Enter the code to get 20% off. This coupon will be good for any digital downloads of FAERIE FIRE or FAIRY TALES CAN COME TRUE. (And even FAERIE FATE if you don’t have it yet!)

Iffy is all excited about tomorrow. She has a bit of news to share, plus Prof. Shannahan to visit with. She keeps asking me what the difference is between Irish Whiskey and Scotch. I told her to Google it.

As for today, I give up. I’ve wrung my brains out dry and I can’t for my life remember what I was going to say about the topic. Instead, I leave you with this question. What pushes your buttons?

…why do you ask? Here’s the 4-1-1, to use one of Iffy’s favorite terms!

Well, it wasn’t quite a landslide, but the Cowboy and his horse won last week’s Mr. Summer preliminary round. This coming Saturday, he goes up against George Eads, aka “Deke” from FAIRY TALES, and Gilles Marini to see who goes into the finals!

As most of you know, I’m leaving Thursday for New Orleans. *happy dances* Heidi, my CP is going with me. I love roadtripping with her! We get so much plotting done. There will be posts here while I’m gone and I’ll check in to reply, though it’ll be in the odd spare moments during the weekend. Don’t forget, any of you in the NOLA area, there’s a book signing at the Hotel Monteleone featuring all the authors at the conference, including yours truly. Stop by and say hi! I’ll have goodies to give away.

Iffy will be here Wednesday visiting with Professor Michael Shannahan from FAERIE FIRE. At some point this week, I’ll try to post some pictures from the Ranch Rodeo I attended Saturday night…speaking of cowboys!

FYI, both FIRE and FAIRY TALES CAN COME TRUE are up on the front page of The Wild Rose Press as upcoming releases! Anybody want a guest blogger around the middle of the month so I can shill the books? AND FAERIE FIRE IS LIVE AT B&N.COM and AMAZON!

I’m guest blogging at MURDER SHE WRITES today. Drop by and say hi. Swag is going in the mail today. I hope. LOL I suppose I should get off my arse and run errands, huh? But before I go, I guess I should give away something this week, too. What do you think? And what should I give away? I still have books. OH! And I have swag from the WFNO conference. How about a messenger bag from that with…two books?!? You can have your choice of romantic suspense or contemporary romance. You know the drill. Comment to enter all this week with a winner picked next week when I get back (completely randomly, of course!).

Ever wondered about the appeal of TRUE BLOOD? The comedic talent at bablegum strikes again with this positively splendid send up of the show. (PS -- The video they did about the terrorist attack cancelled due to a Stephanie Meyer’s appearance is just….WTFery at it’s best!)

And now that I have your attention, I give you reason to snuggle up…and dance. *ducks and runs*

Don’t forget to come visit me this afternoon between 4:00 and 5:00 EST. I’m hosting the LASR chat at their Yahoo Group (you can join and then unjoin--LOL). Marianne, Judy and Wendi are giving away lots of goodies like gift cards, books, LASR swag, and two Nooks. PLUS, I’ll be giving away a .pdf ARC of FAIRY TALES CAN COME TRUE and a special prize--the chance to help create and name a secondary character in FAERIE FOOL!

FYI, they are looking for reviewers--free books. Just sayin’…

This brings us to our last week of preliminaries! There’s no way I couldn’t include a threesome of those hunky men in Stetsons! So, here are your choices. Pick one to move on to the semi’s. So, who’s it gonna be, cowgirls? The Cowboy and his horse, Chaps Cowboy, or Saddle Up Cowboy?

The beer is cold, the BBQ is hot. Grab your ropes and spurs, ladies, and lets pick our last entry!

And I HATE when I mess up times and dates. *headdesk* Don’t forget the LASR chat today and tomorrow. Free prizes, books, Amazon gift cards, and I’ll be hosting tomorrow afternoon (Sunday) from 4:00-5:00 Eastern Time!

Now find a cowboy to vote for!

First up, if weird posts appear in your RSS feeds (those of you who use them) but you don’t see them here on the site, just ignore them. I’m in the process of “pre-loading” posts for the days I’m in New Orleans and sometimes I forget to edit the publishing date so it goes “live” when I don’t want it to. My solution is to delete the post and start over, but it still shows up in the feed.

Now…our random winner for the RWA canvas tote and National swag goodies is….BAN! Email me your address. I’ll try to get the stuff mailed next week before I leave. You also get to pick out a book. I think Karin Harlow’s ENEMY LOVER is gone but you can pick from the rest on this list:
CRAZY FOR LOVE – Victoria Dahl
DANGEROUS DESIRES – Dee Davis
WICKED BECOMES YOU – Meredith Duran
KILLING ME SOFTLY – Maggie Shayne
INSATIABLE – Meg Cabot (hardback)
SUGAR CREEK – Toni Blake
ENEMY LOVER – Karin Harlow
(warning – some of them may have been *gently* read LOL!)

Check them out and pick one that appeals. (I’m thinking Meg Cabot’s paranormal or Meredith Duran’s historical might appeal to you.)

You also get a DVD of the Rizzoli and Isles’ pilot, a R&I jigsaw puzzle, bookmarks and other author swag collected in the goody room, and…some surprises from me.

Are we in the dog days of summer? Or is it because Mercury is in retrograde? All across the blogosphere, comments have been down. Summer vacation and no net access or just less willingness to spend time on line? It’s “back-to-school” lots of places, too. Are folks caught up in getting the fledglings out of the nest? I want to pick your brains on this fine summer day as we slide toward fall. What topics are of interest to you? What do you want to read about or talk about? Should I mention that I tend to “clean house” in the fall rather than spring? What gets you to leave a comment? Pour yourself a martini in your choice of flavor and let’s talk!

And tomorrow, the Mr. Summer contest is going West. Be sure to saddle up to vote in the Saturday Brunch.

Just a few reminders and updates today. The Long And Short Of It Third Anniversary party is winding down. There are three more days to get entered in the Nook giveaway. Did y’all go looking for the Nooks? Announcements of the winners will be made on Saturday and Sunday during the all-day chats at the LASR Yahoo Group here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LongAndShortRomanceReviews. Go sign up there if you want to participate. You can click on the blue button over under FRIENDS to get more info. There will be freebies given away both days. I’m hosting an hour of the chat on Sunday afternoon from 4:00 to 5:00 p.m. EASTERN Daylight Time. Do the math to figure out what time in your zone. (My brain is fried! I’m lucky to remember that it’s 3-4 my time. LOL) I might just have some goodies to give away, too–including something special and just for the folks who drop by to chat. *bwahaha*

According to Marianne and Judy (the hostesses), last year’s chat was a TON of fun and utterly crazy. From Marianne: Judy and I popped in now and then to randomly award prizes (plus we’ll open the chat at 9 a.m. on Saturday and close it at 8 p.m. on Sunday — giving away lots of stuff the entire time) and we imagine this year will be even more fun and more crazy!

Have I mentioned that I have some FAERIE FIRE swag? Notebooks and pens and cool little desk thingies with post-its and paperclips. I’ll be giving them away in September. I also have cover cards for FIRE and FAIRY TALES CAN COME TRUE. If you get a digital download, email me your address and I’ll mail you an autographed cover card.

Ev, you need to pick a book so I can get this stuff in the mail to you!

Tomorrow, I’ll pick a random winner for the RWA swag package from the folks who have commented since the last contest.

Wow. I’m one of the listed authors on Heather Graham’s Writers for New Orleans site. Did I mention I’m participating in a panel? It’s titled: Now They Want Your Book…Is It Done? And the description:

Taking a Great Idea Into a Full Length Story, With Well-Rounded Characters and A Plotline That Makes Sense–Even In A Fantasy World. Is Your Book Really Finished Just Because You Typed The End. Is It A Full, Complete Story With All Of The Necessary Elements?

Do I have any clue what I am going to do or say? Not one! At least not yet. I’m checking to see who else is on the panel with me. It will be fun no matter what happens. Good thing I used to do improv, huh?

Okay. I think that’s all at the moment. What’s going on in your lives? Inquiring minds want to know…

Today, I get to interview the vivacious Deirdre O’Connor. Deirdre, thanks for coming.

*smiles* In answer to your question, oh quite. Bad girls are often…good.

Somehow, I just knew you were going to say that. You do have that reputation. Is it deserved?

Father took me to a Broadway musical once. You might have heard of it? “Damn Yankees.” Anyway, there’s a song in the show. “Whatever Lola Wants.” *hums* *blinks slowly* *offers cat-and-cream smile* *sings* “Whatever Deirdre wants, Deirdre gets.” What do you think? Does the song fit me?

I think Moira should watch out for you. Is it true the Senator had an affair with your mother?

*yawn* That’s old news, if it was ever news at all. Yes. Father never married dear old mummy. She is an actress, semi-retired now, but I was raised in Father’s house with Moira.

And you’re the oldest?

*harrumphs* Only by a year.

Have you always considered yourself Moira’s rival?

What? Oh, please. Really? You’re joking, right? Me jealous of Moria? Not in this lifetime!

Oh? Sounds like you are protesting a little too much there.

*rolls her eyes* *sips her chocolitini* Well, I have to admit, once Moira met Duncan, she did seem to bloom a little. But it doesn’t matter. I’m still the beautiful one.

I think Duncan might disagree with you there. However, is there one part of the book that is really *you*? I’ll let you pick the excerpt and then we can drink our chocolitinis and wait for questions from the readers.

I rather like the description of me right before the cocktail party that first night at Aunt Margaret’s. And then later, when we went downstairs.

Deirdre smiled at her reflection in the antique cheval mirror. Aunt Margaret knew her so well. Pulling a lock of her bright hair over her forehead, she studied the result. She rather liked the coy effect created when she peeked out from behind the curl. She’d spent the last hour achieving the studied wildness of her magnificent mane. She’d finally gotten it just right. Smoothing the emerald green satin gown over her hips, she posed once again for the mirror. She pasted a coquettish pout on her face, delighted with the whole image.

Strapless, gold sequins encrusted the bodice, which showed daring décolleté. The gown’s
sensuous, satin skirt hugged her slim body all the way to her ankles. When she moved, the satin whispered seductively, like a lover’s sigh in the dark. Deirdre cocked her left knee slightly, parting the sheath to reveal a slit running well up her shapely thigh. Gold-sequined stiletto heels completed the outfit.

Along with my gold and emerald jewelry, of course. And this is the effect that outfit had. *coy smile*

“Oh, jolly.” Her bored voice dripped sarcasm.

“My sister, Deirdre,” Moira introduced the other woman, her voice apologetic.

Michael and Kevin stared, both trying to keep their mouths from gaping open. Michael couldn’t believe these two were sisters. Deirdre was magnificent. He heard Kevin gulp. Forget youthful hormones, his middle-aged ones were rampaging as well. All thoughts of Moira had fled from his brain.

Margaret Steele, resplendent in red silk, swept through the doorway. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she scolded. Her sweet smile belied the reproach, though. “Deirdre, I’ve got a room full of attractive men just dying to meet you.” She linked her arm through the redhead’s and led her away.

“Come along, Moira,” she called over her shoulder.

So, there you have it. Deirdre is going to stay as long as the pitcher of chocolitinis last. Do you guys have any questions for her?

OH! And before I forget, Silver wanted me to pass this along, just in case you guys haven’t heard. FAERIE FIRE IS AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER! Go now and get your copy ordered! There will be contests soon with FAERIE FIRE swag.

I forgot that I was going to post our Friday Flash story in it’s entirety. Oops. *blush* My brain has been elsewhere. Also, I forgot to mention yesterday that George Eads, my photographic model for Deke Carpenter in FAIRY TALES, was all but unanimously picked to move into the Mr. Summer finals.

So, without further adieu, here is our story:

And then she jumped me. She’d been the number one champion for the underdog, always taking up for those too scared or too timid to take up for themselves. Maybe that’s why he’d never allowed himself to fall completely in love.

“So you read about me.”

“Steady, Missy.” Strike had teleported with no training, no guidance. She doesn’t seem to be in any danger at the moment.

The Viking was bigger, stronger, and most intent on breaching the lady’s thighs. Eve was going to dig quickly to learn just how much Towers had tucked away. All she needed to do was open the sluice gates a little, and the quickest way to do that was with some good old-fashioned masturbation–or what her mother had called “naughty fingers” when Tess was growing up.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she demanded.

A complaint to his supervisor resulted in nothing but a lecture about how she was clearly sending mixed signals. And the mystery woman made him want to thrust both hands directly into the black dirt. Once she flew to Seattle to visit with him over a long weekend and three times he flew to Phoenix, also for long weekend, visits that went spectacularly well.

“Why won’t you kill me?”

Still, she had a way of making the word man sound as if Jessie should, in a complete role reversal, demand her mother wash her mouth out with soap. She was no match for these men. They caught a quick bite at the deli near the hotel before hurriedly–and cautiously– grabbing their remaining belongings from their rooms and catching the 17:20 train to Aswan. The same could not be said for the man who stood staring through the floor-length windows overlooking the half-pipe in the warehouse beyond. Not that she could blame him.

Before this year, she’d fired that weapon only during her bureau training and never removed it from its holster once in the line of duty. He’s been with Luke a couple of years now and hasn’t had a single problem. Something about wanting her Faery back and you dead.

She’d been through this before. Now that we might have found him and had to go in guns blazing, I was thinking…maybe not so good. But Quigga just furrowed his brow as he looked up at the Golden Monkeys’ city. The impressive edifice had its own carbide gas generating plant in the basement, along with a coal-fired, steam radiator heating system. He’d probably thought he was leaving it behind him in Toronto, but the scandal rags of Halifax couldn’t resist sinking their teeth into a prime catch like Randall Barrett.

So try to calm down, get quiet, breathe, and listen. His strictest rule is not to get into trouble and not to give my mother a big mouth. Whereas Deliverance is about a stranger coming to the rescue, Sojourn is about a stranger coming to visit. Ours is a culture that tells us ‘bigger is always better’ and that ‘more’ is better too. I felt like I might break out in welts from sheer anxiety. The world within him, and the world as he sees it. It also made her feel like an imposter.

Although Dorothy turns back for the time being, powerful forces have been set in motion in her life. The psychological concept of the Shadow archetype is a useful metaphor for understanding villians and antagonists in our stories, as well as grasping the unexpressed, ignored, or deeply hidden aspects of our heroes. They didn’t smoke, or drink, or (if the movie Footloose was to be believed) dance. We point to well-intentioned social programs like battered women’s shelters and “dress-for-success” nonprofit organizations that help women get out from under abuse and wonder, why didn’t she seek

Cooper waited at the front door. The Fossah looked at Katook but was silent.

“I’m not!”

Monte Carson laid the three telegraph forms on his desk, his eyes fixed beyond the open door to the sheriff’s office in Big Rock, Colorado.

“I left Vinnie alone in my apartment for a few hours, and he was wearing my panties when I came home. Your arms were crossed over your chest, you had this terrifying scowl on your face… How many times you manage to fertilize an egg?”

Some days are decidedly less peaceful. Silvio Menzano was married in a private legal ceremony in Vermont in September 2009. Brighten up your garden with these colorful, hand-crafted stakes, an arresting combination of fiery, light-capturing glass and warm, smooth stone. To create a garden that emphasized symmetry and geometry, Webster began with a central water feature.

Even the best fall down sometimes. Guest blogger Shiloh Walker and Other Monsters Under the Bed. Reggie Jackson famously said “Blind men come to the park just to hear him pitch.” Welcome back Stephanie Newton.

She had never been more embarrassed, felt more rejected, not even when Wilson had left her at the altar. Someone poked her back and she whipped around startled. A slender, stylishly dressed blonde woman opened the door.

It was two hours until dawn, the bulk of my evening having been taken up by Ethan, Nick, and my father, so I took the opportunity to give the library the perusal of a former researcher. “Hello.”

“Good.”

Maybe she was crazy.

She could never focus on it, though; never place the memory. “It does not matter anyway, does it?” she said.

“No need to run little man,” one of the rogues taunted, his voice scrapping like gravel. It took time and effort to shape an effective medical team, and there would be a certain attrition rate. Oh, no, she didn’t want to fall asleep, as welcome as it might have been.

Today they will find her body. Or she has already left for work, but is running late. A.J. Sutherland was captivated by the stallion the first moment she saw him. Everyone else just took up space.

“As long as you’re with me, Lex, I can do anything.” Then he walked away. Nikita had sent them paper. For all eternity. “You, darling Sara, have captured me completely.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

It was good to know that, in at least one area of my life at least, my choices had been just fine.

“Oh my dear…” he laughed “…when we are together, the world will never, ever be the same.”

So is the hunter. I tucked the firearm into the holster under my left arm even as I rose from the chair to continue doing my job…

The End

Now all it needs is a title. Y’all have any ideas? Oh…Iffy says be sure to drop by tomorrow. She has chocolitinis to share as she interviews Deirdre O’Connor from FAERIE FIRE.

And to those of you lining up to kick my patootie about FOOL, I am writing. I know it doesn’t look like the graph is moving, but it is, slowly but surely, usually 1000 words at a time (which is only about 1% of the total in my goal) so don’t get upset if it doesn’t look like it’s moving. I promise it is!