Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

by M. L. Buchman I've just returned from another world...and, to quote Monty Python, my brain HURTZ! It was a strange return to my first love, science fiction (shh, don't tell). I didn't discover romance until I attended the 1996 RWA national conference, literally my first ever writing conference and where I read my first three romance novels ever. How a man who had never read a romance ended up there, well, that's just too weird. Like I fell through a space warp or something. (I fell in love with science fiction when I was ten, which was way before that. It's also why I've written and published a half dozen science fiction and fantasy novels along the way under Matthew Lieber Buchman.) Anyway, my trip to another world included reading approximately 300 short stories (literally), writing four myself, and spending an entire week in class studying SF. You'll never guess what happened to me... Guess yet? Thought not. Two main things: 1) I remembered ...

from Mia Marlowe... I won't say I actually saw a ghost when I was a kid, but I did see something . I blogged about it at Brava Authors so I won't repeat myself here. But as an adult, I do definitely feel as if I had a visitation from a departed loved one. It came in the form of a vivid dream. A few months after my grandfather died, I dreamed of him. Instead of looking haggard and wasted as he had when I saw him near the end of his life, he was robust and happy. He winked at me and said, "Tell your grandma I love her." So, of course, I had to call my grandma and tell her about my dream. She was so relieved. You see, she'd been catching glimpses of my grandfather around their house. From the corner of her eye, she'd seen him standing in a doorway, but when she'd turn her head, he'd disappear. She feared she was going crazy. Fortunately, I was able to reassure her. I'd just read an article about how people often see departed loved ones in familiar p...

Growing up on Cedar Hill, life was just a bit different because our neighborhood was so small and everyone knew everyone else. Best of all,   my brother, sisters, and I were lucky enough to have friends right around our own age. Naturally, I followed my big brother EVERYWHERE! Which would explain why one time he left me halfway up a pine tree while he and his friend ran away—then there was that time we were playing Army, and I was the soldier with a head wound and that needing cleaning—and they got soapy water in my eyes. There is definitely a pattern here…which leads me to one of the scariest moments from childhood—following my brother and his friend to Trenchert’s House—it was haunted.  We all knew it and were forbidden to go there by our parents. Naturally as kids, we didn’t listen, we were kids!   As I snuck through the woods—close behind my brother and his friend—but not too close, I realized they were headed toward Trenchert’s…and then the screa...

I want to be haunted. Nothing too scary. I don't want the walls to bleed or anything; I just want a good story to tell. Maybe a being from another world could send mysterious lights bobbing down the hallway. Or maybe there could be a little fiendish laughter emanating from the attic once in a while. I'd like that. But no. I am apparently the antighost. I've lived in many houses that should be haunted, but the minute I move in, everything gets all normal. Bummer. For instance, my grandparents' farm in Maine was built in the 1800s. The attic was my favorite place to play, because it was full of old stuff and I was sure there had to be a ghost up there. There were framed sepia photographs of people in fancy clothes, and all of them had somber expressions and weird dead eyes. I later learned this was because they had to sit still and stare at the camera for ten minutes to get their pictures taken, but at the time I was convinced that all my ancestors were zombies. There w...

I realized this past week that Hex Appeal will be out in four months. Seems like quite a time, doesn’t it? But that comes down to about 16 weeks, 123 days. Wow! When I finished 50 Ways to Hex Your Lover I had planned on moving on to one of the other witches. Except Jazz let me know I wasn’t finished with her yet. That there was more to say. And who am I to argue with a 700+-year-old witch? So I took the story forward a few months and more problems popped up for her. You’d think after all her years in the mortal realm she’d know better, wouldn’t you? But Jazz being Jazz, it just doesn’t work that way. So now Jazz has nightmares. Nick’s sleep isn’t all that pleasant either. Irma’s making new demands just because she wants to. And Fluff and Puff? Well, they’re accused of the unthinkable. There Wereweasel that operates the Ferris wheel is missing and one of the bunny slippers coughed up one of his shirt buttons. They’re in magick bunny slipper jail and if they’re found guilty of this heino...