Oh, sorry. Lost in a delicious daydream;)
Anyway, you can learn more about Rhonda at her site www.rhondaleecarver.com
then I hope you'll grab a cup of coffee and get to know Rhonda and her work better.
Thanks for being here with us today, Rhonda!
1. Was your road to publication a delightful stroll in the park or a painful jog over hot coals?
To me it was a painfully slow walk over hot coals and then a crawl through broken glass until that contract finally came. For a long time I felt like I was the odd one out and everyone was published but me. However, with that said, I’m not sure how my story compares to others. I guess there’s always a worst one.
2 - If you could travel forward or backward in time, which would it be?
2 - If you could travel forward or backward in time, which would it be?
I would travel back in time, no hesitation. Hopefully, I could choose the time period—early 1800’s.
3- Do you believe in love at first sight?
I believe in chemistry at first sight. It’s that invisible feeling that draws two people together and is such a strong force that you can’t think, can’t eat, and can’t sleep because all you can think about is him. I think love grows from there. The deeper the chemistry, the deeper the passion and love.
4- Tell us what's next for you.
4- Tell us what's next for you.
I am currently writing another paranormal/time travel/romance. The name is Dreaming Ivy. Ghost hunter hero meets journalist heroine who are stuck in a haunted house for two weeks. When Ivy begins to dream about the past occupants, a married couple who loved passionately and lost tragically, things begin to heat up, not only in her sleep but also with Max. The dreams seem so real, and when they become a part of her existence, will she have to choose between the past and the present…and a lover from the past and her hot ghost hunter? Or are the two the same man ?!?!
5- Complete silence or music/playlist when writing?
Complete silence. No ifs, ands or buts about it.5- Complete silence or music/playlist when writing?
Second Chance Cowboy Excerpt:
Carly squeezed her hands into fists. “My poor husband. How difficult it is for him to manage his inflated ego and keep his zipper closed.”
“We’re divorced, remember?” His voice reeked of sarcasm.
She groaned in irritation. Her pulse pounded in her ears like the beating of a drum. Her claws were showing.
Chance didn’t blink an eye as he gazed at her across the room. “Honey, I can keep my pants zipped just fine. Problem is, you can’t keep your fingers off my zipper.”
Carly’s palm itched to slap him. “We live in a small town, Chance. How do you think it’s possible we haven’t run into each other more than three times in the last two years?” She cocked her chin. “Let me fill you in. I’ve done everything in my power to keep from bumping into you. Do you realize how difficult it is to plan my schedule weeks in advance so I don’t have to see you? Is that a description of a woman who can’t keep her fingers off your zipper?”
“No, more like a woman who’s afraid she’ll forget what screwed up our marriage in the first place, realize she’s made a huge mistake and get her ass back home.”
“Humph, fat chance that’ll ever happen.” She fumbled with the sheet in irritation and gave her hair a toss over one shoulder.
Damn, he did have a point, although she’d never admit it to him.
“Yeah, right, Carly, because you can’t ever forgive and forget, can you? You think you’re the only one who has lost, don’t you?” His eyes became steely pools of green. His voice turned low and controlled. “I lost Devon, too. He was my son--our son. How long are you going to keep blaming me for his death?”
Carly swallowed the painful lump in her constricted throat. “I don’t blame you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“We both know why I left.”
“We do?” His bitter laugh split the air with its razor-sharp intensity. “I know you want to hold on to the belief that I am the bad guy who drove you away, but isn’t it time you took half the responsibility for the failure of our marriage?” A trace of compassion softened his expression. He tugged on his shirt and finger-combed his hair.
“It wasn’t my fault you cheated.” Once she said it, she wanted to yank the words back. Too late, just like their relationship.
“You’re a broken record, sweetheart. It’s not worth denying the accusation any longer. Maybe eventually you’ll believe your words and feel justified in leaving. Devon died, Carly. He’s gone and we can’t change the truth. One of us needed to make the decision to let him go and I made it. I held out hope you’d eventually find a sliver of forgiveness in your cold heart. I guess I was wrong.”
The old wound broke open and her lungs emptied of oxygen. She wanted to lash out at him, tell him to go to hell, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she whispered, “I’m going to the bathroom. When I get back I want you gone.”
“Carly, you’ve become an expert at sucking all the joy out of your life and pushing away anyone who reaches out to you. You’re living in a self-made prison, founded on guilt and pain, and there is no key to unlock the cell door.”
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