Well, that’s La Caridad del Cobre, the patron saint of Cuba. The story of La Caridad is that the young men in the boat were out in the bay when a furious storm broke out. The young boys feared for their lives until an apparition of Mary came to them and said that she was “La Virgen de la Caridad” (the Virgin of Charity). When the storm passed, the young men found a statue of La Caridad in the waters and took her to land. La Caridad del Cobre’s Feast day is September 8th.

She is also my patron saint as I was named after her. Christmas hint to my family — I’ve wanted a statue of her for years!

My family had another saint they honored — Mother Cabrini. Every year we would make a pilgrammage to see her shrine located near the Cloisters in Manhattan. Mother Cabrini is the patron saint of immigrants.

You may be wondering about the saints talk and why today, on Halloween — All Hallows Eve and the Eve of All Saints Day. Well, the reason for it is that my friend and fellow author Carolyn Martin sent me a link to this clip by her brother, Father James Martin. It’s a great fun video discussing the connections between Halloween and All Saints Day (formerly All Souls Day in my time as well as the Day of the Dead in Mexico). Since he mentioned patron saints and Mother Cabrini, I figured I share it with you. Hang tight, it’s about 6 minutes long. Also, make sure to stay around for the outtake at the end.

It’s an important day. An important Liberty the right to decide who will run this Country.

Some people don’t have that opportunity. They live under dictators like Castro or wanna-be clones like Chavez. They live in places where people think it’s okay to take away Liberty.

The Liberty to speak freely. The Liberty to practice a religion of your choice or not. The Liberty to work hard and enjoy the fruits of that labor. The Liberty to be fear of threats from terrorists and others who wish to steal away our American Dream.

There’s one way you can help keep Liberty safe — Vote. Go to the polls and pick your leaders. Think about what they stand for now and what they’ve stood for in the past. Look beyond race, religion and parties so that’s it’s not a “Just because” vote.

Vote. Make your voice be heard across America. Embrace the Liberty earned through the hard fought battles of our Founding Mothers and Fathers (’cause women served as well back then!) and of all who have sacrificed so much to keep that Liberty secure.

Vote!

Why is it so important to me? Because I come from a place where Liberty died.

DESIRE CALLS is a free novella that you can still read at eharlequin.com. Just click here to start from the beginning. Or visit the Harlequin Paranormal Romance Blog to download a free e-book version of this novella. You can click here for that, but hurry since it’ll only be available until October 31st!

Why do I love Blake so? He’s sexy. He’s brave. He’s honorable. He’s obstinate. He’s passionate. In FURY CALLS, he’s determined to become a better man for his first love - Meghan. But he makes mistakes. Despite that, he never gives up on the idea that someday he will find true love.

Without further ado, here’s an excerpt from DESIRE CALLS (and if you’re as intrigued by Stacia as Blake is in this scene, don’t worry. ARDOR CALLS, featuring Stacia, will be out in 2010).

With a flick of her hand, he flew across the alleyway and into the wall. His head connected with a loud crack and stars swam before his eyes. He struggled for a hold on the wall, but soon found himself sliding down to sit on the cold stone floor.

His vision wavered and he forced himself to focus on something as he tried to regain his senses. Her boots. Black. Shiny. Pointy.
Coming toward him in a wicked, quick beat. Giving him no time, he thought, as she once again grabbed the front of his jacket and picked him up as if he didn’t weigh a thing. With him in her grasp, she entered the bar.

His head was still whirling and something wet ran down the back of it. She walked with him without laboring, her immense elder power giving her strength beyond his. As he shook his head to try to clear his senses, a lot of other things came to him about what the elders could do to him, creating a cold knot of fear in his stomach.

You can’t even begin to guess.

Stacia’s thoughts entered his head as she obviously knew what he was thinking.

I didn’t want any problems for you. Things are different now, he offered in apology, but Stacia’s only response was to motion with him to the door before them.

Even in his dazed state he recognized the entrance to one of the back rooms in the Blood Bank. Foley kept them for his special visitors who would pay a fee for the use of the specially equipped rooms. Not that Foley would dare ask a fee from Stacia or, for that matter, stop her from doing what she would with Blake in that room.

“Stacia, please—”

“Don’t beg, beloved. It’s so unbecoming,” she said as she raised her hand and thrust open the door without even touching it. She strode in, shut the door with another flick of her hand and tossed him onto the metal cot along one wall.

He wouldn’t beg again, Blake thought, even as Stacia exerted her elder’s power to keep him immobile as she shackled him to the sturdy iron frame.

Blake watched as she walked to the far wall, which was equipped with an assortment of toys and other devices. As Stacia stood there considering what to choose, her mental hold on him relaxed, and he pulled against the leather cuffs that had him spread-eagled on the bed, but couldn’t free himself.

The cuffs and bed had clearly been chosen with a vampire in mind since they were thick and sturdy. He realized he could not get loose and bit back his concern as Stacia turned and displayed a rather large and nasty-looking dagger.

She sauntered over, the blade held upright in her hands, plainly visible as if to inflict some mental torture. “Do you know what you did, Blake?”

He wouldn’t show her he was worried. With what he hoped was a careless shrug—which was kind of difficult when one was lashed to bedposts—he calmly said, “I was only trying to help.”

Stacia laughed harshly. “Help? You helping me? That’s rich.”

“It’s the truth. Things are changing around here,” he said again, but Stacia would hear none of it.

She brought the blade down to his cheek. The metal was cold against his skin. Leaning close, she said, “Since when do we care whether we drain a human?”

“Since maybe some of us know that it’s wrong?” he shot back, remembering all too painfully what had happened with Meghan.

Stacia was too omnipotent not to pick up on what he was feeling. Bringing the knife to his wrist, she slipped it beneath the leather and said, “Intriguing. You actually feel…regret and love? You fancied yourself in love?”

He felt the prick of the knife lightly against his skin and then the cool air of the night as she sliced open one sleeve of his jacket, then reached over and quickly did the same to the other sleeve.

He met her gaze as she paused, the knife poised above his midsection and directly above a most delicate area. As she slid the blade beneath the hem of his T shirt, he shivered from the cold and from the anxiety he couldn’t contain. One little slice of the knife—

Not yet, beloved. I’ll have my satisfaction first.

“Well, that’s good, luv. I’d hate to pass without at least getting a look,” he said, determined to not let her be totally in control.

“What? A look? You want a look before I geld you?” she asked with an uneasy chuckle, and the knife wavered against his midsection.

“If that’s the price to be paid for a slight misunderstanding, the least you can do is let me see if what’s beneath all that sinful black leather is as beautiful as the rest of you,” he said, and surprisingly he meant it.

Stacia was a remarkably stunning woman with her exotic almond shaped eyes, dark and filled with so much emotion. Right now, a slight furrow marred the space above her brows and that one golden earring. But then a glitter crept into her eyes and was followed by a wide smile across her full lips.

“You are ballsy.”

He chuckled, shot a look down at his naked parts and said, “Definitely.”

She laughed out loud at that, strode away from him and back to the wall with all the assorted gadgets and accessories. She placed the dagger back into its holder, paused for a second before turning to look at him. She tapped her lips with one finger. “You’ve been naughty, Blake. Very, very naughty.”

Blake sensed the change in her. The playfulness in her tone that said he had reached past her anger to something else.

Something way more interesting, he thought, wondering about the complex creature that she was.

As she turned away from him and toward the wall, he realized she was working at something with her hands. A second later, she shrugged off the vest she had been wearing, exposing the long, slender line of her back. The perfect expanse of creamy skin that he suddenly itched to touch, wondering whether it would feel like smooth alabaster beneath his fingers.

He had been so drawn to that sight that he didn’t realize she had grabbed a cat o’ nine-tails from the wall until she stood before him, the weapon in her hand.

But even then his mind was not so much on the pain she might inflict as it was on the truly rewarding sight of her naked. Her breasts were full. Her nipples hard with her passion and the shade of golden honey, a surprise given her dark coloring. He wondered how they might taste and didn’t even realize he had asked the question until she said, “You wanted to see and now you want to taste?”

He salivated at the thought of it, but couldn’t voice anything else as she brought the cat-o’-nine-tails to rest on his thigh, which immediately grabbed his attention.

“You are…engaging,” she said as she slowly trailed the leather strips studded with small metal balls up his thigh until they rested against his erection. The contrast of the smooth leather snaking around him together with the cold of the hard metal balls was a shock.

“I could be much more engaging if you let me go,” he said, because all he could think about was having her even if there would be pain afterward. Hell, with women there was always pain afterward.

Do you fear nothing? she asked silently as she continued to fondle him with the cat o’ nine-tails, yanking a moan from him with the caresses.

Blake met her gaze and he thought he caught a reflection of something familiar. Something they might share. “I fear living the rest of my life without love.”

She stopped her strokes and a spark of anger came to life in her eyes. “What do you know about living without love? You’ve been undead but a second compared to me.”

“That’s right. But at least I’ve had a taste of it. Can you say the same?”

Here’s the link for the chat:
http://www.romancenovel.tv/wordpress/2008/10/28/10th-day-of-halloween-guest-author-caridad-pineiro/

I have to confess that I suck at titles. I would say I’m 0 for 21 on book titles, except that I did manage to work up some of THE CALLING titles on my lonesome. The original concept for THE CALLING titles, however, came from my great Harlequin editors at the time (and I am so sure my great new editor at GCP will also have wonderful ideas to help in this title selection process!)

Now I’m working on this title, trying to find inspiration based on the elements of the story which is one way that many authors find their titles.

TAINTED BLOOD (soon to be re-titled) is about a world-famous cellist who is dying from a brain tumor and opts to undergo a radical gene therapy in order to stop the progression of the tumor and possibly regain her eyesight. The cellist - Caterina Shaw - hadn’t planned on being turned into a human guinea pig and soon finds herself not only losing her humanity, but also accused of murder. Enter the hero, an ex-Army Ranger sent to either solve the problem she’s created or eliminate it (or should we say her?).

Hmmm. . . My friend Irene Peterson suggested GENESTORM and I kind of like that one. But I really do need to have more than one option.

I’ve been tossing around connected titles since there are at least two books in the series. Maybe SEE NO EVIL for the first one and TOUCH NO EVIL for the second, which revolves around an athlete with a bone disease. I’ll definitely put those on the list since that might lend itself to further expansion for future books in the series, such as HEAR NO EVIL, etc.

Some authors rely on literary inspirations for their book titles. You can click here for a cool list of those, which include titles such as TENDER IS THE NIGHT, THE SUN ALSO RISES and other noteworthy works.

Of course, there’s the I NEED HELP route!

My friend Lois Winston ran a contest to help rename her first book. The great title that was chosen in the contest — TALK GERTIE TO ME.

Maybe that’s something to consider?

So, for a spontaneous contest to help me find a new title, why don’t you leave some suggestions in the comments. If I pick one of your titles or feel that it inspires me, not only will you get an autographed copy of my latest release, SOLDIER’S SECRET CHILD, and a CALLING T-shirt, I’ll also dedicate the book to you!! How’s that for a prize to show your friends and family!

Chris played the nephew of the man who wants to stop Princess Mia from assuming her spot on the throne of Genovia. There was nice chemistry between Chris and Anne Hathaway as Princess Mia. You can check out some of that chemistry (and way cute Chris as Nicholas Devreaux) in this trailer courtesy of Disney.

Chris will be appearing in the new STAR TREK movie being produced by J.J. Abrams of ALIAS and LOST fame. I’m looking forward to seeing Chris as a young Captain Kirk and an awesome space adventure. For more info on that movie, you can click here!

My apologies for not offering up anything fun today or for the rest of the week. DUTY CALLS (LOL! — I swear I will never use that one as a title in THE CALLING).

Big hugs to all of you and see you on Monday!

You might remember him best as the cute little kid in STAND BY ME, a movie classic based on a novella by none other than Stephen King (see the poster for the movie down below)

Jerry has been in a bunch of shows, most of which I’ve enjoyed, like SLIDERS and CROSSING JORDAN though I was always kind of annoyed that the romance on CROSSING JORDAN never went anywhere. He also did cross-appearances on VEGAS based on his CROSSING JORDAN character.

Jerry also wrote the screenplay for FIRST DAUGHTER, which was actually quite a good romance. Jerry served as the executive producer on the film, which was about a young secret service agent (Marc Blucas) who is sent to keep an eye on the president’s college-age daughter (Katie Holmes) and falls in love with her. If you haven’t seen it, check it out.

Guess that makes Jerry cute and talented. What’s he up to now? Expecting twins with new wife Rebecca Romjin

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Hope you enjoyed this morning’s Guilty Pleasure.

So what am I talking about? The lumberjack ad from HSBC. I especially love that hug and smile at the end that says it all — no matter how we disagree, I still love you.

Thanks to my friend and fellow author Sue McGee for finding the link to the YouTube video for the commercial. Hope you all have a great weekend!

Castro.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to think about spreading the wealth. It’s just that I like to decide to whom to give the money that I worked so hard to earn, namely — family, friends and groups that I like to support, like my writing groups and the assorted charities to which I regularly contribute.

Having someone else decide that bugs me.

And while it’s nice to imagine being the Robin Hood who steals from the rich to give to the poor, don’t ignore the operative word in that sentence — steals.

The American tax structure seems to have firmly embraced that concept. When you talk about taxing the top wage earners, consider these numbers from the National Center for Policy Analysis:

According to data from the IRS, the bottom 50 percent of income earners pay approximately 4 percent of income taxes.
The top 25 percent of income earners pay nearly 83 percent of the income tax burden, and the top 10 percent pay 65 percent.
The top 1 percent of income earners pay almost 35 percent of all income taxes.
The top 400 richest Americans paid 1.58 of total income taxes in 2000.

The emphasis added on the second line is mine. Consider those numbers. 25% of wage earners pay 83% of the tax burden. It just doesn’t seem right to me somehow. What will they pay in the future? 90%? 95%? 100%?

When will those top wage earners chuck their papers, work and responsibilities and decide it’s just not worth it? Why would people risk starting up new companies? Why would people invest in stocks and other things? Why do people have to pay estate taxes? Didn’t they already pay taxes on all that stuff while they were alive?

What I feel isn’t just because I’m a child of Castro. It’s also because I’m a child of Reagan. I prospered under his trickle down theories as did most people I knew at all levels of the economy.

When faced with criticism about his tax cuts, President Kennedy said “A rising tide lifts all boats.”

Seems to make sense. Increase prosperity and all benefit.

Something for all our political leaders to consider.

Macy Ward, the heroine, is the mother to troublesome teenager TJ Ward. TJ’s a good kid, but he’s still not handling the loss of his father from cancer six years earlier. The hero, Fisher Yates, is a decorated Army Captain who is at a cross roads at his life. He has the choice of going back for another tour of duty in the Middle East or teaching at West Point. He’s not really considering the latter since he doesn’t picture himself as a family man . . . until Fate brings him back together with Macy Ward. Together Macy and Fisher must not only work out their differences and rediscover love, but also deal with a threat to TJ.

Today’s Wicked Wednesday excerpt is a tidbit from the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1

Macy Ward had never imagined that on her wedding day she would be running out of the church instead of walking down the aisle.

But just over a week earlier, she had been drawn out of the church by the sharp crack of gunshots and the harsh squeal of tires followed by the familiar sound of her fiance’s voice shouting for someone to get his police cruiser.

Her fiance, Jericho Yates, the town sheriff and her lifelong friend. Her best friend in all the world and the totally wrong man to marry, she thought again, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as she shot a glance at her teenage son as he sat beside her in the passenger seat.

“You ready for this, TJ?”

He had been listening to his Ipod, but at the sound of her voice, he pulled out one earbud. Tinny too loud music blared from it as TJ asked, “Did you want something?”

It was impossible to miss the sullen tones of his voice or the angry set of his jaw.

She had seen a similar irritated position on the face of TJ’s biological father, Fisher Yates, as he stood in his dress Army uniform outside the church with his brother — her fiancé. Fisher had looked far more attractive than he should have. As she had raced out into the midst of the bedlam occurring on the steps of the chapel, her gaze had connected with Fisher’s stony glare for just a few seconds.

A few seconds too long.

When she had announced to Jericho that it was okay for him to go handle the incident and that they could postpone the wedding on that day, she had seen the change in Fisher’s gaze.

She wasn’t sure if it had been relief at first, although that was what she had thought that it was. But the emotion that followed and lingered there far longer had been something possibly more dangerous.

There was no relief in TJ’s gaze as he glared at her. Just anger.

“Are you ready for this?” she repeated calmly, shooting him a glance from the corner of her eye as she drove to the center of town.

The loose black t-shirt TJ wore barely shifted with his indifferent shrug. “Do I have any choice?”

Choice? Did anyone really have many choices in life? she thought, recalling how she would have chosen not to get pregnant by Fisher. Or lose her husband Tim to cancer. Or have a loving and respectful son turn into the troublesome seventeen-year old hellion sitting beside her in the car.

“You most certainly have choices, TJ. You could have failed your math class or gone to those tutoring sessions. Coach Wilson could have asked that you do time in juvie instead of community service. And now — “

“I’ll have to stay out of trouble by working at the ranch since you decided not to marry Sheriff Yates.”

It had been Jericho who had convinced the man who had been both his and Tim’s old baseball coach to spare TJ a juvenile record for the incident which had resulted in rolls and rolls of toilet paper all over his prized landscaping and a mangled mailbox which had needed to be replaced.

“After postponing the wedding, I realized that I was getting married for all the wrong reasons. So, I chose not to go ahead with the wedding and I’m glad that I did. It gave Jericho the chance to find someone he truly loves,” she said, clasping and unclasping her hands on the wheel as she pulled into a spot in front of the post office on Main Street.

“I told you before that I don’t need another dad,” he said, but his words were followed by another shrug as TJ’s head dropped down. “Not that Jericho isn’t a nice guy. He’s just not my dad.”

Macy killed the engine, cradled her son’s chin and applied gentle pressure to urge his head upward. “I know you miss him. I do, too. It’s been six long years without him, but he wouldn’t want you to still be unhappy.”

“And you think working at the ranch with some gnarly surfer dude from California will make me happy?” He jerked away from her touch and wagged one hand in the familiar hang loose surfer sign.

She dropped her hands into her lap and shook her head, biting back tears and her own anger. As a recreational therapist, she understood the kinds of emotions TJ was venting with his aggressive behavior. Knew how to try to get him to open up about his feelings.

But as a mother, the attitude was nevertheless frustrating.

“Jewel tells me Joe, Jr. is a great kid and he’s your age. Maybe you’ll find that you have something in common.”

Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of the car, crossed the street and made a bee line for the door of Miss Sue’s. She had promised her boss, Jewel Mayfair, that she would stop to pick up some of the restaurant’s famous sticky buns for the kids currently residing at the Hopechest Ranch.

When she reached the door to the restaurant, however, she realized he was there.

Fisher Yates.

Decorated soldier, Jericho’s older brother and unknown to him or anyone else in town, TJ’s real dad. Only her husband Tim had known, but as honorable as he had been, he had kept the secret to his grave.

The morning that had started out so-so due to TJ’s moodiness just went to bad. She would have no choice but to acknowledge Fisher on her way to the take out counter in the back of the restaurant. Especially since he looked up and noticed her standing there. His green-eyed gaze narrowed as he did so and his full lips tightened into a grim line.

He really should loosen up and smile some more, she thought, recalling the Fisher of her youth who had always had a ready grin on his face for her, Tim and Jericho.

Although she couldn’t blame him for his seeming reticence around her. She had done her best to avoid him during the entire time leading up to the wedding. Had somehow handled being around him during all the last minute preparations, being polite but indifferent whenever he was around. It was the only way to protect herself against the emotions which lingered about Fisher.

In the week or so since she and Jericho had parted ways, it had been easier since she hadn’t seen Fisher around town all that much and knew it was just a matter of time before he was back on duty and her secret would be safe again.

She ignored the niggle of guilt that Fisher didn’t know about TJ. Or that as a soldier, he risked his life with each mission and might not ever know that he had a son. Over the years she had told herself it had been the right decision to make not just for herself, but for Fisher as well. Jericho had told her more than once over the years how happy his older brother was in the Army. How it had been the perfect choice for him.

As much as the guilt weighed heavily on her at times, she could not risk any more problems with her son by revealing such a truth now.

TJ had experienced enough upset in his life lately and he was the single most important thing in her life. She would do anything to protect him. To see him smile once again.

Which included staying away from Fisher Yates no matter how much she wanted to put things to right between them.

Check out the video trailer for SOLDIER’S SECRET CHILD
Available December 2006 from Silhouette Romantic Suspense

But with the economy the way it is, how can you keep in the spirit and not spend a fortune? One way is by making your own Halloween costumes. Back when my sis and I were kids, we never had store bought costumes. Too expensive. We used whatever was in the closet that could be turned into a costume.

My mom used to have a funky patchwork design shirt and for more years than I care to remember, we used it to be either hobos or scarecrows.

When my daughter was in elementary school, they held a Halloween Hop every year and we used to have the best time making the costumes and so did many of the parents. Everyone joined in to make it special.

One of the first costumes we made for me was Scully from The X-Files. I got a cheap red wig and wore a suit from my closet. The highlight of the costume was my alien baby. My daughter and I searched for an alien-looking toy. Found a cheap wax candle of a UFO alien. We placed the candle in a big empty plastic pretzel jar and then filled it with orange Jello. It looked really cool and I carried it around all night. Of course, we hadn’t counted on just how heavy that jar would be and my arms ached the next day.

Another timer my daughter went as Buffy and I went as a . . . A vampire of course!

A vampire costume is probably one of the easiest to make. White shirt and black pants. A long length of thick red ribbon with some kind of medallion. (The year hubby went as a vamp he used an old Cadillac hood ornament that had come off one of his cars.) You can buy either a plastic or cloth cape rather inexpensively, but another option is to use a black garbage bag as a cape. Some inexpensive plastic fangs and kid’s Halloween make-up kit and you’re set to go.

For some more hints on home made Halloween Costumes, visit some of these links:

http://www.budget101.com/hw1.htm
http://familycrafts.about.com/cs/halloweentheme/a/091399.htm
http://www.mccallpattern.com/list/costumes/page-1
http://www.costumepage.org/hallocst.html

Hope you have a blast this Halloween!

Dean has appeared in a number of shows recently, including CSI, LAS VEGAS, SMALLVILLE and Lifetime’s THE DIVISION.

Thanks to Mazi7366 for this Dean Cain YouTube video!

Check out this fun site — ATOM SMASHER – where you can make your own Street Signs!

I made one for THE CALLING. What do you think?

I have to say that most times, something around me piques my interest and gets my mind going in a game of “What would happen if . . .”

A lot of the times that happens when I’m traveling, like my recent trip to Mexico! While strolling around Tlaquepaque after the meetings were done, my colleague and I were treated to a wonderful historic center which boasted two beautiful churches, a lovely square filled with all kinds of vendors and lined by restaurants featuring dueling mariachi bands.

As we strolled, I noticed some postcards with an odd winged figure and some other things that mentioned the CHAMUCOS. Hmm . . . Winged and scary looking? Right up my alley.

I did a little research now that I got home. Apparently EL CHAMUCO is another name of the devil. Maybe I could eventually spin that into a story, maybe not. But it sure had my mind going for a bit.

A few years ago I got to visit Panama during a legal conference and the highlight of the trip was going through several locks of the Panama Canal. I spent some time chilling with friends who were native Panamanians and listened to the fervor in their voices as they described the stories about how the Canal was built. The failure of the French and the Americans who came in to finish it.

Got me to thinking of the hardships to build the canal and the hubris as well. We need to go from the Atlantic to the Pacific so let’s just cut right through a country!!

But back to the birth of an idea for a novel. Lovely Panamanian woman, of high birth. Earnest and handsome American engineer who has come to work on the project. Probably a military man as well. Way sexy. We’ve got cultural