Brianna's History

The first book I wrote for Loose-Id was KELLA'S CHARM. People often ask writers, "Where do you get your ideas?" and quite often the answer is, "I dunno."



Some things come to you for reasons. Some things just come. With Kella I just had a vision in my mind of a man and a woman in an old castle. They are snuggled close together when an intruder bursts through the door. The man's first instinct is to reach for the furs to cover his love and shield her from whatever danger this may be.



That particular scene doesn't come until very near the end of KELLA'S CHARM, so I had to back up from there and find out how we get to that point. And that was the birth of that story.

Ancient Ireland, windswept cliffs, an imposing castle. It wasn't until after I started writing it that I found out Kella is a witch.



So when I started to work on a story for St. Patrick's Day, I went back to Kella. Parts of that castle would remain centuries later, wouldn't it? And if the ancient magick lasted through time, then the descendants today would have it in them, wouldn't they?



So this was the birth of BRIANNA'S MAGIC. And that is why you'll see the same ancient ruins on the covers of both books. Castle Torin binds the two stories together.




I hope you'll enjoy both stories. We all need a little sprinkle of faerie dust, don't we? Have a magical day!

Delia

Brianna Arrives Today

Now you can find BRIANNA'S MAGIC on the front page at Loose-Id.com. This is the perfect story to put you in the mood for St. Patrick's Day. Follow Brianna and Michael as they struggle toward their happily ever after on a windswept cliff at the very edge of Ireland.

In today's excerpt, Brianna has decided to try dissuading Michael from tearing down the old ruins she holds sacred by scaring him with stories and legends of the little people and other magical beings in the area. While serving at the pub, she stirs up the locals to start the stories rolling. No problem in an Irish pub. The gift of gab is in their blood. Enjoy:


Behind the bar she started to pour a Guinness for him. When Daniel glanced her way, she grabbed her opening. “Danny boy, you’ve met our Michael Gallagher here?” She nodded toward him.
“Of course.” Daniel clapped Michael on the shoulder. “Trounced him soundly at darts last night.”
“I certainly hope his buildin’ skill’s better’n his darts, then.” She slipped into the more informal brogue, tightening her kinship with the men. “He’s plannin’ on some fancy hotel up by the ruins.”
“The ruins?” Daniel cocked an eyebrow.
Brianna slid the glass of stout across the bar to Michael. “That’s if the leprechauns will let him. You know there’s faerie rings up there.”
Now Old Jimmy joined in from Michael’s other side. “Aye, the faerie rings. Wouldn’t do to cross them.”
Michael kept the grin on his face, but Brianna could see the slight frown furrow his brow. “And what if I do?” he asked.
Wiping at a spot of foam on the bar with a damp towel, Brianna shrugged. “I don’t think you’re wantin’ to find that out, are you?”
His smile widened as he looked from one group of men to the other, then back at Brianna. “I’m thinkin’ I do.”
Oh, this man is good, she thought, noticing how he’d picked up a hint of the brogue himself to increase his acceptance in the group and receive the benefit of their familiarity.
“’Tis never a good idea to mess with the faeries,” Old Jimmy said. “They can be mean.”
Michael took a long drink of his Guinness. “What if I don’t believe these faeries exist?”
“Oh, they exist, all right.” Seamus leaned in from beside Old Jimmy. “Brianna’s seen the little people, haven’t you?”
She placed a fingertip against her chin, as if in deep thought. “Well, I thought I’d seen a tiny one once.” She looked at Seamus. “But ’twas only that you’d come back from the gents without zippin’ your fly.”
Both groups of men exploded in raucous laughter at the expense of Seamus’s manhood. He didn’t seem to mind, despite the redness that bloomed in his cheeks as he laughed with the rest of them. Old Jimmy picked up the thread, exactly as Brianna had hoped. The storytelling had just begun. The night would be filled with stories of faeries, hauntings, legends, all sprung from the land by the ruins. There were dozens of them, maybe enough to change Michael’s mind once he’d heard some of them.

Well, that's all for today. Check in tomorrow to see what other kind of magic may be happening to Brianna and Michael. And don't forget to start thinking about the wearin' of the green on Saturday!

Have a magical day!
Delia

Cead Mile Failte

Cead Mile Failte is an Irish Blessing that means "a hundred thousand welcomes."



We welcome everyone to Brianna O'Shea's debut week as we head toward St. Patrick's Day. Tomorrow marks the long-awaited release of BRIANNA'S MAGIC at Loose-Id.com. It's a smart and sexy story with a gorgeous cover about an Irish witch and an American businessman who find the old magic working its spell on both of them as they fall in love amidst the ruins of an ancient Irish castle.



Here's the opening:


Brianna O’Shea walked out the back door of her great-grandmother’s cottage toward the ruins of Castle Torin. The moon was almost full, casting an ethereal glow over the damp, heather-strewn field. The rain had stopped about an hour ago, but tiny drops still glistened in the cracks and crevices of the stone wall.

Now not a single cloud marred the night sky. Stars pricked the blackness like handfuls of sequins scattered across a velvet cloth. Black and silver. Everywhere she looked, Brianna saw the gleaming contrast of sparkle against darkness. Surely tonight, if ever, faeries danced in the moonlight.

That's all for today. I'll be adding a little bit more every day this week, so stay tuned if you want to catch a little more Irish magic.

Meanwhile, I'm chatting tonight at Romance Junkies. 9:00 Eastern Daylight Time. See you there!

Have a wonderful day!
Delia

Top Ten Places in the World!

Talking about Hemingway and Key West yesterday made me think about all the places that I've really loved in my life. Would Key West make the top ten? I thought about it for a while, and came up with the ten best places I've been. There may be other places I'll love equally well if not better. I just haven't gotten there yet. Like Hawaii - that's on my To-Do list. So here they are, in no particular order:

Key West
Atlanta
San Francisco
New York City
Yosemite National Park
London
Walt Disney World
Columbia, Maryland
Washington, DC
Kenmare, Ireland

Kenmare is a tiny place on the southwestern edge of Ireland. It was my inspiration for the tiny village of Torin in BRIANNA'S MAGIC. We had been on a week-long tour of Ireland which included some St. Patrick's Day festivities (they are in the book too!). By the time we got to Kenmare at the end of the trip, we were ready to get off the tour bus and just sit in a pub for a while. It was a magical experience - listening to the lilting voices of the locals, enjoying the warm soup and thick soda bread, feeling the misty rain on our faces as we walked about the village. Nothing in my life has been remotely like that little bit of Irish Magic. Some day, if things go as planned, I'll get back there. And I might just stay!

Hemingway? What's that?

One of my favorite places on the planet is Key West, Florida. Another guy who kind of liked it there is Ernest Hemingway. His home there has become a local shrine and tourist attraction. You can walk through it with a well-informed guide for a modest fee. I do it every time I'm there.

Papa Hemingway is legend on the island. He not only wrote some really good books while he lived there, he did quite a bit of fishing and more than a little bit of drinking. His daily routine started with writing. He had to write 700 words before he could do anything else. Once he got those 700 down on paper, it was off to the bar. Sloppy Joe's is a large, loud, populated place on Duval Street. But there's another bar, just off Duval that claims Hemingway also. Captain Tony's is today in the location where Sloppy Joe's was in Hemingway's day. So go to either one. You'll be steeped in the Hemingway experience in both places.

One of my favorite things on the tour is Papa's study. This is separate from the main house on the second floor of the old carriage house. You can only peer inside. They won't let you go in and touch anything, no matter how much you beg. But you can stand in that doorway, look at his things, close your eyes and absorb his essence.

I figure he's a pretty good standard to follow, so I make it my goal to write at least 700 words every day. Usually I write more than that, but once I get my "Hemingway" done, I'm sailing the rest of the day. Of course, if I lived in Key West, I'm sure I'd be off to Sloppy Joe's too. Good thing I don't live there.

Have a great day!

Delia

In the Zone

No matter how many books I write - and I don't even know what that number is any more - the same thing happens. The process begins easily enough. I have an idea, I have clearly defined characters in my head. I know what the conflict is and how it's going to affect them. So I start writing. The beginning chapters flow like honey in the Florida sunshine. Easy, sweet and never ending.

Then I hit the wall. Okay, the set up has been...well...set up. We know them, we love them. They love each other, although they probably don't know it yet. We see the conflict looming over them like the monster that ate Cleveland. Intimidating to be sure. But we know they will overcome it. Somehow.

So now what? This middle of the book - I once heard an author refer to it as "the muddle" - drives me freakin' crazy! I sit before the computer, staring at the blank screen, the blinking cursor. One word might appear. Ten minutes later there might be another. Then a rash of sentences, quickly tapped out, just as quickly deleted. Nothing makes sense!

It's more difficult than giving birth. More painful than a root canal. More boring than scraping spaghetti sauce off a plate your lazy son left in the sink overnight and...wait! I've been distracted. But that's part of it too.

So day after day I work at this part of the book. Barely managing to produce my "Hemingway" every day. Then something magical happens. I'll finish up a day, put my MP3 player in my ears and head out for my afternoon walk, and all the way around the one mile circle, the whole rest of the book appears as vividly as if I were watching it on the big screen of a movie theater.

That happened to me yesterday. THE RUNAWAY HEIRESS has finally hit her homestretch. I'd write a lot more about it here, but I'm eager to get back to the manuscript. More later!

Have a wonderful day!
Delia

Heavy Drinkers

In every book I write, I somehow manage to have at least one scene of someone drinking coffee. Why is that? (excuse me while I take a sip of my coffee right now). Oh, sure, I occasionally change it to tea. But still, what's with all the drinking?

Well, there's a small possibility that since it comes through my brain to get on the paper, the actions are going past my thirst. It is not uncommon to find three beverages on my desk at once. There's coffee in the mornings. There is always a bottle of water somewhere. It may be brand new, or it may be down to its last few drops, but it's there.

In the afternoons the beverage collection grows to include whatever I drank with lunch. This could be iced tea, diet Coke, some flavor of Crystal Light...doesn't matter. After lunch it comes back to the desk with me. If I go to the grocery store, I always get a drink at the fountain by the Deli. There's something about that small machine ice...I don't know. So that's where the paper cup with the plastic lid comes from.

Then we have the travel mugs. My boyfriend lives 30 minutes away. I go to his place every Wednesday to cook a nice dinner for us. We usually watch a movie after dinner. Then for the long drive home, I fill one of his travel mugs with iced tea (or whatever beverage we had. Except wine. I don't put wine in a sippy cup!)and then THAT winds up on the desk when I get home.

So when I'm writing a scene that starts with people waking up, I naturally send them to the kitchen to grind the beans or put on the kettle - or both, depending on their preferences. I don't know how to avoid this. Even now, with my rich spoiled heiress heroine, it's an issue. She tries to make coffee for the hero, but winds up just staring at the beans wondering what to do.

There must be a society for this, like AA or Overeaters Anonymous. Maybe OBA? Over Beveraged Anonymous. Hello, my name is Delia, and I must have beverages!

It's a twelve-step program. Here's my pledge for today: I promise to write all day without putting liquids of any kind in the scenes.

Well, unless the characters walk past a Starbucks. That's a whole 'nother issue.