And the winner is Julie-ann! I've emailed you.

I've just got home from Auckland, where I attended the Romance Writers of New Zealand annual conference. The keynote speakers where Randy Ingermanson and one of my favorite Regency authors, Eloisa James. I learned so much from their presentations and motivational speeches.

In addition, the lovely (and I mean lovely - she's beautiful inside and out!) Joanne Grant participated in our early morning cold reads. A cold read is when Joanne listens to your first two pages being read out and stops where she would have stopped if she were reading a submission. Then she explains why she stopped and what she would do. Luckily for the 12 participants, she loved all the pages, and all of us got a synopsis and three chapter submission request.  Mine was for a paranormal I'm writing with my critique partner and fellow author, Gracie O'Neil. Here it is, if you're interested...

The Vampire's Mortal Captive (working title)

Chapter One
Thorn slid onto the empty bar stool and threw a sensual smile at the cheerleader look alike serving drinks behind the bar. “I’ve been looking for a woman like you all my life.”

The beautiful woman he’d directed his inane comment to, was the picture of innocence. Blond hair fell in ringlets about her make-up free face. He couldn’t see her legs, but her tank-top showed bare arms honed to perfection, tanned to perfection, and a pair of bodacious breasts spilled over the neckline, enough flesh to fill his hands. This could be fun.

She ignored him and continued to pour a beer for the guy two seats further along the bar, giving an exasperated sigh, not even bothering to look his way.

Thorn grinned. She had no idea his words were not some corny pick up line but the truth. He’d been looking for her, or a woman like her, for almost nine hundred years. He coughed.  She gave the man his beer and hit the cash register. “Didn’t anyone tell you lines like that are liable to get you laughed at or…” her words faltered when her exotic and enticing as sin eyes, briefly looked over at him, -“or worse a drink thrown in your face.”

“Most women wish to do something else with my face. Something far more pleasurable.” He watched the blush race up her slender neck and heat her cheeks. Interesting. How a woman still had the ability to blush when she worked in this cesspit he’d give his right fang to know.

“What do you want? And you better say a drink cos’ that’s all I’m serving.” The iciness of her tone couldn’t hide the heat in her veins or the rapid rise in her hear rate. He affected her. From her rigid stance he’d say annoyance. Shit. He’d hoped lust. It would be easier to get her to leave with him. And leave with him she would.

“Well, what-do-you-want?” she repeated. He didn’t need to read her mind to know she thought him a jerk.

“Is that any way to address a customer?” She stood staring at him her vibrant blue eyes sizzling with anger. Thorn liked her angry. “Honey, don’t we all want the same thing. I bet I know what you want.”

She picked up a cloth and wiped the top of the bar vigorously. “What does a cock-sure stranger think he knows about me? Go on, surprise me. What do I want, other than kicking your arse out the door?”

He let his eyes roam slowly over her face downwards to linger on her succulent chest, his fangs started to extend, before he pulled himself together and decided it was safer to look at her face.  “You want a love that consumes you.” He watched her swallow and he had to suppress a lick of heat in his groin. “You want passion and adventure and perhaps a little danger.” Her eyes widened. He filled the silence with a sexy grin and looked deep into her eyes. “As to what I want, I want you!”  

For a split second the world around them dimmed. The sounds of music and drunken laughter died, the cigarette smoke cleared, all he could scent was her rich, beckoning blood. Nothing existed except the two of them.  Excitement seared along every nerve ending. Soon he’d have what he’d craved for centuries. What he deserved. His reward…

Then she laughed. She bloody laughed.

“Christ, all I need after a long night. A jerk who thinks he’s god’s gift to women. Jack,” she called across to the other barman, “I’m taking the rubbish out. I’d rather deal with the rubbish than listen to this crap.”  With that she picked up two black plastic bags and walked out the back, heading through the kitchen to the alley behind.

Fuck! He reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, poured himself a large shot and downed it. The empty glass slammed onto the counter.  That wasn’t supposed to happen. He inwardly grimaced. What did he think? That the one woman every vampire hunted would have no defense against his kind? He wondered about her other defenses. Obviously compulsion didn’t work. She’d laughed!

He ran a hand over his face. He’d handled this all wrong. He’d been filled with adrenalin all day, not quite believing he’d found a Vitae Dator. A woman whose blood held the power to revert a vampire to human form. There was usually only one Vitae Dator born each century and for the last eight centuries he’d looked for her in vain. Until tonight.

 What do you think? Would you want to read more? Let me know in the comments and I'll draw a winner and giveaway a copy of  Invitation to Scandal. Open Internationally until 31 August.

However, one of the most inspirational sights (for a romance writer who has to think up hunky heroes) was the fact the Australian 'Wallabies' rugby team, were also staying in our hotel. I actually caught the lift with 8 huge and hunky Wallabies. Be still my beating heart. They did look a tad dejected the next morning since New Zealand's All Blacks thrashed them 22 - 0. I was actually presenting a workshop at conference and it was to be held in a room on their team management floor. Three of them accidentally walked into the workshop and I invited them to join me. I told them they'd more than likely get a better reception in here than in the team postmortem!

Anyway, I have to say I had a wonderful time and meet fantastic people. As usual. Here is a picture of my Book in 50 Days team at our Thursday night PJ party. I'm on the left.

Thank you to the overseas speakers, agents and editors, for coming all the way to New Zealand! Some of you American writers should come down to NZ for our conference one year. It's great fun! You also get more chance to pitch and talk with editors and agents in a smaller group - around 110 people.

Thanks everyone for making it such a weekend treat for me. I'll see you all again in August 2013 in my home town, Wellington.