I'm thrilled to be launching a new historical romance series, The Matchmaker of Edinburgh, this fall! The Look of Love comes out on October 9, but I'm giving my readers an early look at the first chapter of this friends-to-lovers, marriage of convenience romance!
You can click here or on the book's cover to download the first two chapters of The Look of Love for free and start this book early readers are calling "one that fans of historical romances will devour."
Want To Read More Sports Romance? Here's Where to Start
If you've had a chance to read CHANGING THE PLAY, first of all thank you! It was a really fun book to write, and seeing it in readers' hands is making me itch to get back to writing sports romance after spending the last nine months in the world of 19th-century Scotland for my upcoming Matchmaker of Edinburgh series. (As amazing as writing that series has been, I love variety in my writing as much as my reading!) If you have read CHANGING THE PLAY, would you do me a big favor and consider leaving a review on Goodreads, Amazon, iBooks, or any other ebook retailer? It just takes a couple minutes and it helps who might like my book find it!
Okay, now to the real reason we're all here: sports romances. These books are full of sexy athlete heroes, high drama on and off the field, and heroines who can stand up to some serious alpha man. The folks over at XOXO After Dark rounded up a list of their favorite sports romance and as well as naming CHANGING THE PLAY they name-checked a bunch of other great looking romances that I'm planning on trying. One of those is DIRTY BOXING by Harper St. George and Tara Wyatt, and today is actually their release day so be sure to check out their book and wish them a happy book birthday!
The best way to keep updated about my Julia Blake books is to join my reader group on Facebook. It's a spot for readers to hang out and get the latest updates, bonus and behind-the-scenes content, and giveaways. Come hang out and say hi!
Cover Reveal: Check Out The Taste of Temptation's Dreamy Cover!
The news out of London is coming hot and fast as the weather starts to cool down here and it actually feels like autumn is approaching. Last month CHANGING THE PLAY hit retailers, giving readers a chance to read my first Julia Blake sports romance. THE LOOK OF LOVE, the first book in my new Scottish historical series called The Matchmaker of Edinburgh, comes out in less than a month. And today I'm showing off the new cover for the second Matchmaker of Edinburgh book, THE TASTE OF TEMPTATION!
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I absolutely love the covers for this series, and this one is just perfect for the story! The book comes out in February, and here's a look at book blurb if you're curious:
Only desperation could have driven Caroline Burkett to her brother’s home in Scotland, but desperate is exactly what she is. After suing her former fiancé for breaking their engagement and causing a scandal in the papers, her only hope of starting over is to enlist the help of Edinburgh’s famous matchmaker, Moira Sullivan.
Born to a butler and maid, Jonathan Moray fought hard to find his place in Edinburgh society. Now a powerful newspaperman, he can make or break a person’s reputation with his headlines, but Jonathan knows his success isn’t guaranteed. He needs salacious stories to keep his readers enthralled, and Caroline’s story is just the sort to sell papers in droves.
When Moira introduces Jonathan and Caroline at a salon, Caroline knows the editor is exactly the wrong man to associate with if she wants to find a husband and restore her reputation, but even as another, more suitable suitor begins to court her, she can’t deny the power of her attraction to Jonathan. Now she must ask herself if she’s strong enough to choose between the man who can give her a secure, quiet life, or the one who promises her a passion she’s never known.
You can also watch this replay of a Facebook Live video I did talking a bit more about the Matchmaker of Edinburgh series. Don't forget to like my Julia Kelly/Julia Blake author page for more chats like this one, and while you're at it follow me on BookBub. Click here for Julia Kelly and here for Julia Blake!
Enter to Win an eBook of Changing the Play
If you haven't had a chance to pick up a copy of my new sports romance CHANGING THE PLAY, you're in luck! My publisher has generously put 100 copies of the ebook up for a Goodreads giveaway.
All you have to do is click on this link and hit the "enter giveaway" button. That's it!
The contest runs through September 4. And don't forget to leave a review after you read it! Good or bad, reviews help readers find their next favorite book.
Listen to the First Chapter of Changing the Play
I've always loved hearing stories read out loud. I'm sure it comes from Mum and Dad reading to me every night when I was a little kid, and even into adulthood I've never lost it. Audiobooks, podcasts, radio shows—I love all things audio. That's why, when my new Julia Blake book CHANGING THE PLAY came out earlier this week, I decided to do a little read aloud on Facebook Live!
On these videos, you'll hear me reading parts one and two of chapter one of my new sports romance. You'll also get a little insight into why I wrote the book.
If you want to keep reading, you can buy CHANGING THE PLAY from these fine ebook retailers:
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Be sure to like my Facebook page, because I do a Facebook Live every Friday to talk about everything from new release news to the books I'm reading!
Changing the Play Is Out Today!
Today is a very exciting day. My brand-new contemporary sports romance, CHANGING THE PLAY, is hitting readers' eReaders as we speak! It's an enemies-to-lovers, second chance romance set in the tense weeks before the NFL Draft, but you don't have to be a football fan to fall in love with Rachel and Nick! Keep reading for more details.
The game changed when he walked back into her life.
Rachel Pollard has never been a push-over. That’s why she’s a superstar in the world of sports management, making a name for herself with a shrewd eye for overlooked talent. She certainly isn’t taking any chances with her latest NFL draft prospect, Kevin Loder, who’s poised to shake up the league. But when Nick Ruben, a tenacious sports reporter who also happens to be the crush who ignored her all through high school, picks up the scent of a long-buried story, Rachel suddenly finds herself playing defense for the first time in years.
Craving More Historical Romance? This List Is for You
A lot of new-to-me readers picked up my historical romance, The Governess Was Wanton, last week when it was on sale for $0.99. Thank you! It was great seeing it get into the hands of readers across the world! Since that book's short and sweet and might leave you craving a little more romance, here are some books from me as well as other authors to look at for your next historical romance read.
The Governess Was Wicked, by Julia Kelly
If you enjoyed The Governess Was Wanton, this is where the series starts. Elizabeth, our titular governess, is convinced that Dr. Edward Fellows would never be interested in a working woman. But little does she know that he's been pining for her for years...until the two of them share their first kiss.
The Governess Was Wild, by Julia Kelly
My road trip book! The Governess Was Wild starts when Jane (the last of our governesses to find love) wakes up in an inn and finds that her charge has disappeared and one very angry baron is missing his horse. That's a problem because her charge was sent away from London to keep her from following through on marrying a throughly unsuitable gold digger. Jane convinces the baron to accompany her on the road to find both horse and girl before the runaway couple can make it to Gretna Green, but it's Jane who finds true love on this trip.
The Look of Love, by Julia Kelly
When Ina, a near-spinster who loves nothing more than sculpting, finds herself in a compromising position that threatens to ruin her reputation, a matchmaker convinces her to marry her best friend, Gavin. But what she doesn't realize is that Gavin has loved her from a distance for years, and this marriage of convenience is going to be a lot harder than either of them expected. You can't read this one quite yet, but you can preorder it, making it a gift from Current You to Future You.
Think of England, by K.J. Charles
This is a wonderful Edwardian M/M romance...with spies! Think Downton Abbey with more political intrigue.
An Extraordinary Union, by Alyssa Cole
More spies! This time during the Civil War! (I really like spy historical romance.) Alyssa's book is the wonderful, richly layered romance that everyone's been talking about this year.
The Countess Conspiracy, by Courtney Milan
One of my favorite historical romances, this is a great book if you like your romances sciencey and your heroines nerdy. Be prepared for some deep angst in this friends-to-lovers book.
"Sweetest Regret" in What Happens Under the Mistletoe, by Meredith Duran
If you're craving some Christmas a little early, this is a wonderful novella to tide you through the end of the summer. It reunites a diplomat's daughter with the rogue who ruined her reputation, forcing them to face old wounds during the holiday season.
Your First Look at a New Sports Romance
As much as I love writing historical romance, you need to spice things up from time to time. That’s why, in just a couple weeks, I’m giving you a taste of a sexy, fast-paced new sports romance series published under a brand-new name—because what lady doesn’t need a second, not-so-secret identity?
My new Julia Blake book, Changing the Play, is the first book in the Game Changer series, and it comes out on August 21. It’s a second chance romance between Rachel, an agent at the top of her game, and Nick, the sports reporter trying to wheedle a story out of her biggest new client. Things are extra sticky because Nick also is Rachel’s high school crush who never paid her any attention—or so she thinks.
You can preorder Changing the Play now to make sure you’re in the game the day the book hits stores.
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To give you a little taste of what you can expect, here’s the first chapter.
Chapter One
Rachel Pollard huffed out a breath and wished desperately for a shot of whiskey in her coffee. She’d been up all night reviewing an endorsement contract for Katerina Baranova, and now the spoiled tennis player and her equally loathsome father were tying up her office line with even more demands. Not a fun way to end a workday.
“Why does Serena get to design her own dresses?” Katerina whined, her Russian accent softened by years of training at an exclusive Palm Beach tennis academy.
Because Serena Williams revolutionized the women’s game, and you only cracked the quarterfinals of your first Grand Slam last month.
“Katerina should be focusing on her forehand,” barked Yuri. “Not dresses. Not shoes. Not visors.”
His daughter sniffed. “I’m interested in more than just hitting a ball around a grass court.”
“If you’d learn to respect the grass, you wouldn’t have lost in the second round of Wimbledon last year,” Yuri said.
Rachel pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose and pinched. Hard. She had neither the time nor the desire to get dragged into the middle of another Baranova brawl. What she did have was a hot date with a bottle of cabernet, a scalding bath, and three contracts on her iPad. Not exactly an evening of romance, but the contracts had to be read, and doing the work at home trumped late nights in her midtown Manhattan office any day.
“Look,” she interrupted, “your contract very clearly states that you’ll be given a selection of clothing at the beginning of each season. For now, all you can do is keep winning, Katerina. Wins mean more leverage when it comes time to renegotiate with the sponsors.”
“See,” said Yuri. “Miss Pollard tells you to win. You do what Miss Pollard tells you.”
Rachel was so happy to hear a Baranova agree with her that she didn’t even point out that she went by Ms. and not Miss. Not that Yuri cared. He was more focused on grooming his daughter to be the next Maria Sharapova than he was on pleasantries. Typical nightmare tennis dad.
Five minutes later, Rachel dropped her desk phone unceremoniously into its cradle and slouched in her chair. A glance at the gold watch she always wore on her left wrist told her that Katerina and Yuri had sucked up twenty-four minutes. Much too long. It was time to start weighing whether the troublesome tennis player was worth the investment—Grand Slam appearances or not.
Most of Rachel’s clients weren’t a problem because most treated her with the same reverence a fifth grader holds for a strict but beloved teacher. In her business, reputation was key, and over the years she’d become known for finding raw, untested young athletes and grooming them into stars.
Working with her came with some caveats, of course. She operated under strict rules. You work out. You practice. You don’t fuck up. If you don’t fall in line, you get dropped.
You do not want my cell phone to ring at three in the morning because you’ve done something stupid, she told each of them. Most—if not all—followed that rule.
Rachel unplugged her iPad and slid it into her purse along with a file of loose papers. She blindly felt for the unforgiving black pumps she’d kicked off under her desk hours ago and wiggled her feet into them before gathering up her coat.
“Night, Nathan,” she called to her assistant as she passed his desk. But then she stopped. “You’re going home, aren’t you?”
The tall, skinny young man with spiked brown hair blinked a couple of times before shaking his head. “Sorry, yeah. I’m just finishing up the edits to this press release.”
“It can wait. Go home.”
He mumbled something that sounded like a yes, but the way he bent his head over the keyboard told her odds were slim he’d actually follow her instructions. She couldn’t fault Nathan’s work ethic. She’d been the same way when she was an assistant—hopeful and hungry for her break.
Halfway down the hall, the door to Emma Robbins’s office was still open. Rachel stuck her head in and found her friend on the phone, pacing the room in stocking feet.
Emma smiled when she spotted her but held up a finger. “I’ll send you all the details ASAP. I’ve got to go. Call me first thing tomorrow, and don’t even think of talking, texting, or tweeting anything. To anyone.”
She raised her eyebrows when Emma ended the call and let out a long sigh.
“What’s going on?” Rachel asked.
Her friend flopped down in her leather desk chair and tucked her platinum blonde hair behind her ear. “Someone leaked to the press about Dante not being happy with his contract. Now this reporter from the Seattle Times is threatening to publish some bullshit story. I’m working up a press release saying—”
“Dante Helms loves Seattle and wants nothing more than to help bring another Super Bowl win to the city,” she finished for Emma.
“Exactly.”
“And the truth?”
“Dante wants to get back to Chicago so badly, he’ll burn rubber on I-90 doing it.”
“Looks like you’ve got a long night ahead of you. Are we still on for the Nets game on Wednesday?”
Emma nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it. I need to get out of this office.”
She laughed. “Don’t we all? See you tomorrow.”
In front of an office a few feet down the hall, Rachel’s other friend, Louise, was poring over something on her computer.
“Hi there,” Rachel said, stopping in front of Louise’s desk.
The younger woman slid her glasses off, rubbed one of her eyes, and froze. “Dammit. I forgot about my mascara.”
Rachel did a quick check of Louise’s makeup. “You’re good.”
Louise sighed. “That just means I rubbed it all off earlier.”
“Is Brad making you stay late again?” she asked.
“I’m doing his expenses, but I promised myself I’d break free at eight no matter what.”
A few years younger than Rachel and Emma, Louise had the misfortune of working for “Brad the Bad.” The agent had installed her in an assistant’s chair four years ago and had been coasting on Louise’s hard work ever since.
“You’ve left after me every night for the past three weeks. I wish you’d let me talk to him,” Rachel pleaded.
Louise shot her a tight smile. “It’s just a busy time.”
“Too busy to catch the game Wednesday?” she asked.
Louise’s shoulders slumped. “Probably, but I’ll let you know if it changes.”
She said her goodbyes but made a mental note to talk to Emma. They had to figure out a way to get Louise off the assistant’s desk and building a client list of her own. She deserved it.
Rachel should have been able to make the forty steps from Louise’s desk to the elevators with no interruptions, and she would’ve been home free if her cell phone hadn’t rung just as she stopped in front of the stainless steel doors.
The number was blocked. She was tempted to let it go to voice mail, but it was her job to be reachable, day or night. Sometimes, she thought as she swiped to answer, being available 24/7 sucked.
“This is Rachel Pollard.” She pushed the elevator’s down button with one red-polished nail.
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. She repeated her greeting—her voice clipped and short this time as she tapped her foot.
No response.
But just as she was about to hang up, a man’s deep voice broke the silence, “Rachel, it’s been a long time.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who this is.”
“It’s Nick.”
“I know a lot of Nicks.” She glanced at the elevator display. The closest car was fourteen floors away.
The man cleared his throat. “Nick Ruben. We went to high school together.”
The ball of her foot hit the floor with a sharp click and stayed there. Nick Ruben. Oh, she knew exactly who he was. The two-sport star of Prescott High School. The golden boy. She’d spent most of their sophomore and junior years wondering if he’d ever notice her, and all of senior year forcing herself to get over her crush. And now, he was calling.
“How can I help you, Nick?” she asked, putting on that little edge of professional ice she used when speaking to reporters, because while she’d grown up to become one of the most in-demand young agents in sports management, she knew Nick had become a journalist. One, it would seem, who couldn’t ignore her any longer.
“I was feeling nostalgic, so I thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.” His voice might be sweet as honey, but it wasn’t thick enough to coat the bullshit that lay under the small talk. She didn’t have the time or inclination to wheedle out why he’d called. He’d have to come out and ask for whatever interview with whichever of her clients he wanted, just like anyone else.
And that’s when Nick would learn that she was the gatekeeper, and the gatekeeper didn’t do favors.
Mashing the elevator’s down button again, she said, “Nick Ruben. Reporter and sometimes anchor of New York Sports Network’s Sports Desk. You got a job in Kansas right after college covering the Royals for the Associated Press. Then you made the move to TV in Kansas City. After that you headed to one of Seattle’s local stations, and two years later you landed in Chicago. Your work was good enough that NYSN snatched you up to cover the Devils out of their Newark bureau. Since getting there, you’ve worked your way into a general assignment and fill-in anchor position. You’ve been in the tristate area for the last three years, here in New York City for the last two. You won a Murrow Award for your reporting on sub-concussive hits on high school football players in 2014. You also occasionally land in the gossip columns. Page Six in particular seems to like reporting on your dating life.
“I’m not big on nostalgia, Nick. Consider us caught up.”
When he didn’t respond immediately, she was certain she’d scared him off. She talked fast and took no prisoners—not everyone’s favorite set of qualities and ones that didn’t jive with most men’s first impression of her. All they saw were a pair of legs and a lot of red wavy hair standing quietly behind some of sports’ biggest stars during press conferences. Most men weren’t prepared for her to steamroll them.
Instead of sputtering, Nick began to laugh, the rich tone filling her phone’s speaker, and all at once her stomach clenched. How many hours had they spent just feet apart from each other in their high school baseball team’s dugout? In those days, she’d just wanted a sign that he saw her as something more than the gangly manager who took down game stats. A long time ago, she would’ve paid anything to elicit that kind of laugh from him.
“Sounds like you’ve been following my career pretty closely,” he said.
The elevator doors opened and Rachel stepped inside, her grip on the phone just a little bit tighter. “It’s my job to keep an eye on the talent at all of the major broadcast outlets. You’re no exception.”
You’re not special. I’ve been watching your career because this is what makes me so good at my job.
“So tell me, Nick,” she said, forcing the chill back into her voice, “what can I do for you?”
* * *
Nick stared at his cubicle wall, unsure of his next move, which was annoying as hell. He always knew what to do—even when someone turned him down, there was always another angle to get what he wanted—but somehow Rachel Pollard had managed to put him on his ass in two minutes flat. Just like she had in high school.
He caught his producer’s eye as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He should’ve have taken the call privately, but Mindy had insisted on being there. She was as invested in getting this interview as he was, but now she hovered over him like a mother hen, knocking him off his game.
Or maybe you’ve just never had game when it came to Rachel.
No. He had too much riding on this call to start thinking like that.
He took a deep breath. Time to turn on the charm and try again. “Like I said, can’t old high school friends—”
“The most you ever said to me in high school was ‘Can I get my game stats?’ or ‘Hand me that water bottle,’” Rachel interjected.
He frowned. That wasn’t true. Was it?
He remembered her, skinny as a string bean with her long red-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and stuffed through the loop of an Arizona Diamondbacks ball cap. Quiet and closed off, she was always around, standing just a little apart. Unapproachable.
In the fall, she was never far from the football field, watching practice armed with a pad of paper, constantly taking notes on plays and strategy. The football coaches mostly tolerated her—probably because having her hanging around the bleachers didn’t really hurt anyone.
Each spring, she’d ride at the front of the baseball bus, crunching stat lines and talking tactics with Coach Callahan. The man used to brag about her knack for defensive positioning and her encyclopedic knowledge of pitchers—and how it was a damn shame none of the boys on the team ever developed a head for “that kind of advanced strategy.”
But while Coach Callahan treated her like a protégé, Nick’s teammates were ruthless, breaking her down in the locker room, where she couldn’t defend herself. They said she was weird. They dismissed her because they figured she must be crushing on someone. And then they’d try to guess who she had the hots for. As a wide receiver and a pitcher who saw a lot of game time in both of his sports, his name came up a lot. The mentions had made the back of his neck burn red because, deep down, Nick had liked her.
He hadn’t gone after her like he had Melanie Crawford, who he’d talked into kissing him in an empty hallway at Winter Formal sophomore year. Rachel wasn’t the cheerleader that he, the jock, was supposed to chase. She was the quiet girl, and somehow that made her seem cool, distant, and unattainable. He’d been so sure she’d turn those deep blue eyes on him and shut him down.
And now here he was, trying to stave off another kind of rejection a decade and a half later.
“Look, I apologize for being an idiot teenager,” he said, switching tactics and swallowing his pride. “Most teenage boys are idiots.”
“They are.” She hesitated. “An apology is a start.”
For the first time since she’d picked up, he heard something underneath the ice—the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn’t much, but Nick knew from a lifetime of experience that the moment he could make someone smile, he was in. Now all he had to do was get Rachel in front of him for five minutes, long enough to convince her to grant him the interview he needed.
Taking a calculated risk, he asked, “Meet me for a drink?”
Mindy shot him a horrified look, so he fixed his gaze on the dozens of press passes hanging on his cubicle wall.
“Like I told you, I’m not big on nostalgia,” Rachel said. “Look, I’m kind of busy right now . . .”
Damn. He’d miscalculated. She was going to hang up, and he was going to have to call back and beg.
Quickly he said, “Last time I was back home Coach Callahan asked about you. You’re right, I do have a favor to ask, but I also want to be able to tell him how you’re doing next time I see him.”
There was a slight beat—a gap in her armor—but he wasn’t expecting the warmth in her voice when she asked, “Did he really?”
“He got on my case about not having met up with you, since we live in the same city. He still thinks you could teach me a thing or two.”
That got a laugh out of her. “I’m not so sure about that.”
She had a good laugh—full and throaty. It made all of the bullshit worries about sucking up his pride and calling her fall away. Suddenly, hearing her laugh again seemed very, very important.
“Is that false modesty from Rachel Pollard?” he asked.
“It’s knowing a lost cause when I see one. You never really listened to your coaches. You just kind of did your own thing.”
He couldn’t help the urge to test the elbow he’d injured in college. Too many pitches in his freshman season and a natural weakness in a tiny tendon had landed him on the surgeon’s table. Even after months of physical therapy, his pitching arm had never been the same.
“Guilty as charged,” he said. “So what do you say? Meet me for a drink.”
“I’ve got a lot going on tonight,” she said, starting to hedge.
He took another gamble. “No you don’t.”
“How do you know?” she scoffed.
He grinned. “Because you thought about it for a split second. You were weighing whether meeting with me was really worth your time. My guess is you’re bringing work home. Maybe you have some plans to see your boyfriend—”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
His grin spread into a full-on, shit-eating smile as he stored that little bit of information away. Not that he’d ever pursue Rachel. Chasing after an agent with her client list would be as stupid as running headfirst into a wall over and over again, never mind that it would land him straight in his news director’s office as soon as word got out that he’d made a play for a high-profile woman who could also become an important source.
“The fact that the boyfriend is the thing you’re correcting me on just proves I’m right,” he said. “You’ve got a free night.”
“A better man would have let that go.”
“Good thing I’m not a better man,” he said, swiveling around and raising an eyebrow at Mindy. His producer rolled her eyes.
“Come get a drink with me,” he continued. “Unless you’re scared.”
That laugh filled his phone’s speaker again. “You haven’t scared me since I saw you wipe out into a bench of Coconino High School players.”
Automatically his hand went to his chin to rub the thin, pale scar he’d gotten that night.
“You know Artemis in Columbus Circle?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“I’m going to be there in twenty minutes.” Without another word, he hung up the phone and put it facedown on his desk.
“Well, that was either the most brilliant or the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” said Mindy. “And I’ve seen you do a lot of stupid things.”
“No you haven’t,” he said as he stood to put on his suit jacket.
“I’ve wing-womaned all over Manhattan for you. That means I’ve seen you karaoke ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ with some blonde you were trying to talk into bed. You still owe me for that one, by the way. Your singing voice is even worse when you’re drunk.”
He remembered the night in question. Mostly.
“That was two years ago. Let it go,” he said.
Mindy smirked. “Never.”
“I’ll bet you twenty bucks that I get Rachel to agree to grant this interview by the end of the night,” he said, smoothing his lapels against his chest.
Mindy folded her arms. “Right. Because she sounded so willing to walk down memory lane with you. Are you sure she’s even going to show?”
His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. It was one of his college friends asking for fantasy basketball advice.
“Got a hot date?”
He looked up and caught Mindy’s smirk.
“None of your business,” he said.
“Who is it this time?” she asked. “A hedge fund analyst? A lawyer? A publicist? Or do I have to wait until you two wind up in the tabloids to find out?”
He shot her a dirty look and put his phone away.
“Why do you think Rachel’s not going to show?” he asked.
“From right here it sounded like you were bombing pretty hard. Even if she comes, there’s no way she agrees to work with us.”
“So take the bet.”
Mindy adjusted her black-framed glasses in that way that reminded him of librarians and elementary school teachers. Only none of the teachers who’d taught him paired them with leather leggings, long slouchy sweaters, knee-high boots, and piles of wood bracelets.
“Fine,” she finally said, sticking out her hand to shake. “Twenty says you can’t convince her to let us do the interview.”
He clapped his hand on hers and squeezed. “That twenty will buy a couple of sweet-tasting victory beers.” Just barely, damn New York prices.
Nick glanced at his watch. It’d take him ten minutes to walk to the bar, which would give him another ten to settle in, order a drink, and wait. Every man had his game, and part of Nick’s was making sure that he was never the last one to show up to a meeting—whether it was a date or a drink with a source. He wanted to pick the location, the time, the mood. He wanted the other party on their toes, just a little flustered at finding him halfway through a drink.
“I’m looking forward to taking your money, Ruben,” Mindy shouted after him as he walked out.
Never going to happen, he thought as he made his way out of the newsroom. There was no way he was going to let Mindy or himself down.
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SALE: Get The Governess Was Wanton for $0.99!
The Governess Was Wanton is on sale for a very limited time! The second book in the Governess series is a retelling of my favorite fairytale, Cinderella, but this time The Fairy Godmother gets her happily ever after!
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Mary Woodward, a young veteran governess, has one job: guiding a young debutante through her first season in high society. And up until now, keeping her focus and avoiding temptation has been easy. But never before has the father of her young charge been as devilishly handsome as the single, wealthy Earl of Asten.... Convinced to risk it all, Mary let's herself enjoy one night of magic at a masked ball in Asten's arms, but will they both regret everything when the Earl learns her true identity?
Surviving Your Next Conference: How to Prepare, What to Do, and How to Unwind
In lieu of my usual #5forFriday, I'm taking a quick moment to talk about something near and dear to my heart: conference season.
Every July I pack up my suitcase and head somewhere in the U.S. for the Romance Writers of America national conference to take meetings, see friends, and learn a bunch of stuff about the business of writing romance. It's a huge, fun, exhausting five days, and the first time I went it was totally overwhelming.
Because we all remember being paralyzed at some point during our first conference, the founders at HBIC Nation and I put together a handy Conference Survival Guide to help you navigate any professional conference you're headed to. This digital magazine breaks down goals planning, packing, tackling your schedule, in-conference self care, and decompression once you head home. Whether you're a veteran or a newbie, there's something helpful in there for everyone!
#5forFriday: 'Night Games,' Blondie, and Morris Dancers
A quick #5forFriday this week as I'm in the middle of writing the first draft of The Allure of Attraction, the third book in my Matchmaker of Edinburgh series. 1. I'm loving the iTV mystery The Loch. It reminds me of Broadchurch, just set in the Highlands and without a very pasty David Tennant (a shame I know). I'm not sure when it's out in the U.S., but it's a good one to keep an eye out for.
2. I blew through Heartthrobs: A History of Women and Desire by Carolyn Dyhouse this week. Dyhouse looks at the men who have been deemed desirable throughout the early 20th century in movies, romance novels, and more. If you're interested in history, gender, and sexuality, it's a fun read.
3. I run around Hyde Park, and I've recently been seeing lots of signs for the British Summer Time concert series which kicks off in the concert tonight. While Phil Collins is the first headliner, Blondie's got second billing so I've been listening to Heart of Glass, The Tide is High, Call Me, and Sunday Girl all afternoon.
4. Alexis Anne's new book Night Games is now out! She's writing a lot about baseball these days and while I know it's not specifically to make me happy it does have that very nice side effect.
5. On Wednesday night we were randomly visited by Morris Dancers. Well, they visited the pub across the way. It made for an...unexpected night.
#5forFriday: New Shows, Jazz, and Wonder Woman
Another week's gone by and I'm feeling more settled than ever into London. Here's a look at five of my favorite things from last week:
1) A brand-new book from a good friend! When I met fantasy author Nigel Henry two years ago he was just wrapping up his Demons of Sedona series and starting to think about writing this kick-ass monster fighting high school girl named Ria. Well, I'm happy to say that Ria's Web of Lies is now out at digital retailers everywhere and looks fantastic! I've got this one loaded up on my iPad, and I'll be diving in this weekend.
2) This week I handed in the developmental edits on my book The Look of Love which is due out in October. After a couple back-to-back deadlines, it'll be nice to have a little free time to work on book 3 in the Matchmaker of Edinburgh series, The Allure of Attraction, before the craziness of RWA Nationals kicks off in late July.
3) I managed to unintentionally sync my move to the U.K. with the start of several new shows airing here on iTV. This week alone I've watched the first episodes of The Loch, Fearless, and Riviera (plus plenty of the half hour soap Emmerdale). It's been a great switch off for my brain after long days of editing and rewriting.
4) I've been listening to a lot of jazz as I work this year and this week I've been on a Lester Young kick. Give his dreamy version of "I Can't Get Started" a listen:
5) I'm finally seeing Wonder Woman this weekend! I'll be heading up to Oxford for a visit with my sister and her Scottish fiancé, and we're all excited to pile into the theater and watch it (a week after everyone else, but we're just helping keep the box office healthy).
#5forFriday: London Living
It's been a couple weeks since I've done a #5forFriday because things have been a little hectic what with moving countries and all, but I'm settled in and back! 1) I'm living in London! After what felt like months of preparation and waiting, I finally arrived, jet lagged and slightly disoriented in my new city. More than a week later, I'm mostly settled in and enjoying exploring my new city.
2) I turned a book in! The second book in the Matchmaker of Edinburgh series hit my editor's inbox yesterday afternoon. I celebrated by pouring myself a big glass of wine and watching the British soap opera, Emmerdale.
3) I got interviewed! C. Steven Ellis from The Writer's Mind interviewed me just before I left for London, and now the interview is live. You can watch it on YouTube or download the episode on iTunes.
4) I'm reunited with my dogs! Nick and Nora, my family's bichons, have been the stars of my Instagram and Instagram stories for the past week. They even helped me edit — sort of.
5) I went dancing! I've been a swing and blues dancer for more than ten years and that means that no matter where I am in the world I can always find a friendly community of people who love blues. Since I only know a few people in London, I took myself out dancing on Tuesday and met a great group. Not a bad way to kick off my first week in a new place!
Getting the Most Out of Your Creative Day
This post is part of an ongoing series for HBIC Nation, a community that helps creatives learn, grow, and dominate in their fields. Our motto is Dream. Do. Dominate. You can find out more by going to HBICnation.com or joining the HBIC Nation Facebook Group.
I recently transitioned from working a full-time day job and writing on contract for a publisher to writing full-time. I’ve been dreaming for years about making this jump. I figured I’d wake up, roll out of bed, and the words would just flow. If my fantasy was a formula, it would look like this:
All the time in the world + Writing full-time + Dream fulfilled = All the books in the land
Wasn’t I adorably naïve?
Instead of being the writer utopia I’d imagined, all of this uninterrupted time was daunting. In the past, my day job forced me to be extra disciplined and protective of my writing hours. I was getting stuff done before because, ironically, I had so little time in which to do it. It turns out that for me the formula looked like this:
No time + Deadlines + Stubborn determination = 4 books a year
Obviously, I was happy that I had one focus in my professional life instead of two, but without the structure of a demanding schedule I was feeling lost. I was too unstructured.
Fortunately, I have lots of creative around me who don’t work traditional day jobs. Instead, they create their own schedules that work at the pace of their own artistic flow and — this part is key — still get the work done.
I reached out and got a lot of great advice from women who’d made this jump before me, including from HBIC members Alexandra Haughton and Tamsen Parker. Then I took a step back to assess my own working habits and came up with these things that have been working for me.
Survey Your Week
I’m going to come right out and admit that I’m not great at future planning. At least not long, long-term future planning. However, what I am good at and find incredibly helpful is looking at the week ahead.
Every Sunday I sit down with my bullet journal and brain dump a list onto a piece of paper. I write down my appointments, important emails and calls, and every project that I know I need to get done next week.
Here’s a sample list of things I jotted down on my weekly to do list:
• Email London networking contact • Finish The Taste of Temptation draft • Make notes on Patreon • Dinner with Maegan, Tuesday • Agent/Editor lunch, Thursday • Podcast interview, Friday • Pick up dry cleaning • Long run • Cancel cable
See what I mean about brain dump?
One thing I don’t do is write down every little step to get those projects done. Finish The Taste of Temptation draft could look like this: finish hero realization scene, write grand gesture scene, write epilogue, finish transitional heroine scene you neglected to write because you got excited about other things. That, however, doesn’t help me see the big picture for the week. The nitty gritty details? Those are more likely to cloud up my view. Apparently I’m exactly who that seeing the forest through the trees adage is about
Make a Daily List and Make It Early
Once I’ve got a weekly list (which I make on Sunday nights), I get down to my big organizational tool: day-to-day task lists. The night before I start writing down everything I need to do the next day. Monday gets planned on Sunday night, Tuesday gets planned on Monday night, and so on. I do this because it helps me shut off my brain and keeps me from working 16 hour days. If there’s a to do list for tomorrow, those things can get done tomorrow.
This day-to-day list is where those nitty gritty tasks I avoid putting on my weekly list become helpful. They keep me on task and help break big projects down into actionable steps.
I’ve also found it to be helpful to sometimes write out a little schedule for myself like so:
7:45 a.m. — Shower, breakfast, morning pages 9 a.m. — Morning writing session 11:30 a.m. — Run errands, lunch 1 p.m. — Afternoon writing session 5 p.m. — Email catch-up 5:30 p.m. — Run
3 Daily Goals
If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a lister. I put everything on lists, and that sometimes makes it hard to figure out what absolutely needs to get done and what can potentially get pushed to another day. Because of that, I like to highlight the three biggest things that must get done on a given day. I literally write a 1, 2, 3 next to them to mark that they’re my priorities, but you can use this prompt to help you organize:
Today I Will: 1) ____________________
2) ____________________
3) ____________________
If those three tasks get done, the day’s a win for me. (Don’t we all need little wins for motivation?)
Make Time for Admin — And Keep It
Admin has been a huge pain point for me for a long time. The problem isn’t so much sending emails, writing blog posts, and social media. It’s getting myself to stop once I start. There’s always one more thing that I could be doing. One more newsletter draft. One more Facebook post. One more tweet. It’s enough to make an HBIC want to pull her hair out.
I’ve started to think about admin like I think about my writing time. I build out space in my week for it and I protect it fiercely. However, I’d say I go one step further when I work on admin during the predetermined time because I’m protecting the rest of my life from it creeping out and taking over everything.
On Sundays I’ll go into my CoSchedule app — an expensive but worth-it-to-me content marketing tool — and set up my blog posts, tweets, Facebook posts, and Instagrams for the week. If I have a newsletter I’ve got to send that week, I’ll make sure that’s ready to go and scheduled in MailChimp. I’ll fill up my Buffer with snazzy content from friends and make sure I’ve got some things ready to go if people I know have launches or book sales during the upcoming week.
Then, after all that is done, I close CoSchedule and walk away. Other than making sure that my content is going out into the world, I try not to open it again. I’ll jump on Facebook and Twitter from time to time, but that’s mostly for interaction and catching up on everyone’s news rather than promoting my content. The temptation to cut into writing is just too great. All of this content creation is supposed to serve the writing, not hinder it by taking excessive time and mental energy away from me.
I’m still learning my own best practices for working as a creative full time, and would love to hear what works for you whether you’re working on a side hustle or your art is your full time gig! Leave me a comment or shoot me an email at julia@juliakellywrites.com, and be sure to check out HBICnation.com.
#5forFriday: One Week in Hawaii Is Breaking Up! (And That Means You Save)
This is a special #5forFriday today because it isn't every week I get to announce TWO deals for readers.
- My anthology ONE WEEK IN HAWAII is breaking up! What does that mean for you? A 99¢ book that gets you not just one but four sexy novellas just in time for summer beach read season. But remember, you've got just one week for the sale because after that the ebook comes down and you'll only be able to get it via paperback.
- Speaking of great deals, my publisher has put together a bundle of 12 free reads including THE GOVERNESS WAS WICKED! It's all in honor of a great site redesign for XOXO After Dark. Definitely check it out, and don't miss this video the authors of Pocket shot for the big anniversary. I'm in there, big hair and all.
- My sister and her Scottish boyfriend are coming to NYC! In fact, mere hours after this post goes up, they'll be on the ground (and probably jet lagged). My sister used to live four blocks from me in New York, so it's been tough not having her around. Fortunately...
- ...my moving to the U.K. going along about as well as I could hope. There are a million little things that need to be done before I get on a plane, but I'm crossing things off the very long to do list.
- Normally I'd round this out by saying I finished a draft of a book (true!) or turned in proofs (also true!) since my last #5forFriday, but really the best thing that's happened to me all week has been seeing friends and getting together those last few times. Even though I'll see many of them in a couple months — I literally just booked airfare to come back to the U.S. for my best friend's bachelorette party in Austin AND RWA in Orlando — there's something about celebrating seeing each other in the same city that makes all the difference.
Your First Look at a Second Chance Romance
Four years ago, I came back to New York from a conference buzzing with excitement over a new story I wanted to write. It was a sexy sports contemporary romance all centered around the NFL Draft. It would have a badass agent as the heroine squaring off against a charming and persistent sports reporter who's fighting to save his job by scoring a big interview with her client. Even better, he's a blast from her past — the guy who never noticed her in high school — but you can bet he's paying attention now. I sat down and started writing that very night.
Over the years the book changed as I grew as an author. I rewrote it a couple of times but kept coming back. Finally, it found a home with my publisher and got the love it deserves from a great editor. Now I can honestly say I can't wait for you guys to read CHANGING THE PLAY, and as a little teaser here's a look at the cover!
Rachel's a powerful agent who will do anything to guard her clients (her client list is full of basketball and football players just like those guys standing behind her). She's totally the type of woman to rock that suit and those shoes at work, and I love love love her!
Trust me, Nick doesn't even know what he's in for!
Here's a bit more about Rachel and Nick's story:
Rachel Pollard has never been a push-over. That’s why she’s a superstar in the world of sports management, making a name for herself with a shrewd eye for overlooked talent. She certainly isn’t taking any chances with her latest NFL draft prospect, Kevin Loder, who’s poised to shake up the league. But when Nick Ruben, a tenacious sports reporter who also happens to be the crush who ignored her all through high school, picks up the scent of a long-buried story, Rachel suddenly finds herself playing defense for the first time in years.
Nick usually doesn’t strike out with women, but his always-dependable charm isn’t getting him anywhere with Rachel or the interview he needs to save his job from his network’s impending layoffs. He knows he’s pressing hard, but she’s pushing back just as much—it’d almost be fun if his career wasn’t on the line. But after weeks of begging and finally striking a deal for an exclusive, Nick is surprised to realize he wants their relationship to be anything but professional. Now he has to figure out a way to save his job without hurting hers, and to make the girl he overlooked in high school believe he’s worth a shot at love.
If you preorder now, you get the book at it's promotional $1.99 price. That's down from $4.99!
Amazon | Amazon UK | iBooks | Kobo | Nook | Googl
You can expect to meet Rachel and Nick on August 21, just in time for football season to kick off!
Welcome to HBIC Nation
A few months ago I spent the best weekend I've had in a long time with five of my fellow authors. We holed up in a house in the middle of the Virginia countryside surrounded by rolling hills and cows mooing in the distance. The six of us were there to reconnect, write, and recharge.
On the second to last day, after eating a huge picnic out under a tree on the unseasonably warm February weather, we stared talking about how being a part of this group of six had gotten us through the good and the bad in our careers. Personally, everything changed for me as a writer when I found a community that both supported and taught me, but that wasn't unique. All of us had stories to share about what "finding our people" meant to us.
Sipping wine and soaking up the unexpected sun, we began to wonder about how to share that experience with other people. The more we talked, the more we realized that all six of us wanted to do the same thing: foster a community for creatives where they could find support, grow, and celebrate success. We didn't just want to cater to writers but musicians, actors, designers, and others as well because we firmly believed that we can all learn from each other.
HBIC Nation was born on that February day. It's a website, a Facebook group, but most importantly it's a place for creatives to gather. An HBIC is a Head Bitch in Charge—because we know "bitches get stuff done"—and we welcome all HBICs who dream big, do the work, and dominate.
You can join HBIC Nation by going to our website, clicking on the "Citizenship" tab, and signing up. We're also kicking off a supportive, inspiring Facebook group where we'll start applying the principles of HBIC Nation right now. Expect to be challenged to think about your career, celebrate the HBICs who inspire you, and enjoy getting to know your fellow creatives!
We also have shirts for sale because who can launch an empire without a great logo for continuing inspiration? Use this link to get 15% off your purchase automatically until May 11. (No promo codes required.)
We hope you'll join us, and we can't wait to see how you'll grow!
Cleaning Out My Life and Letting Go
I am surrounded by things. My things. Nearly everything in this apartment I sit in while writing this was bought by me or for me with the purpose of filling up my life and shaping my home. There are things for comfort (the sofa I sit on), utility (a litany of kitchen equipment), or amusement (my prodigious book collection). And while they've all served a purpose and helped define a chapter of my life, many of them now seem superfluous.
When I decided to move to London, my first thought was for the friends I would leave behind. My second was for the sheer volume of stuff that would have to be sold, donated, and junked. It was staggering and almost crippling though despite my living in a home that is likely smaller than most of the people reading this.
I'm proud to say that my 320-square-foot studio has suited me well, in part because after nearly nine years of New York apartment living I've become an expert a bringing things into my home that serve multiple functions. No storage opportunity is overlooked. No kitchen gadget can have just one purpose. (Note the ice cream maker that I want so desperately but have been loath to buy because of giving up precious kitchen storage space.)
I realize the privilege it is to have stuff. I'm a woman who, through working both as a writer and as a journalist, has been able to make a comfortable living for herself. Fretting about what to do with excess things is a privilege of people who can afford to have an excess of things. Clutter is very much a first world problem and, at the moment, it's a problem I'm facing.
I read Marie Kondo's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up when it was in vogue a couple years ago. Everyone I knew seemed to be Kondo-ing their lives, so I took a shot at it. I emptied my closets into the center of my room and sorted clothes, putting back only those things that I truly loved. (I did not hold every item and ask myself if it brought me joy and thank it for serving its purpose when I relegated it to the donation bin because that felt too woo woo for me, but if it works for you, more power to you.) I did the same exercise with my books, culling through things I loved and getting rid of things I knew I'd never read again.
However, despite this Kondo-inspired clean out a year ago I still found myself surrounded by things. I wasn't brutal in my purging because I wasn't going anywhere. My day job was solid and my mind was mostly occupied with writing books. I've also never found myself resentful of things. I've never felt the urge to seek out the freedom people write about in article urging us to eliminate material possessions and live out of one suitcase. As anyone who has perused my closet can tell, I derive too pleasure from clothes. I like being surrounded by books. There's satisfaction in finding the exact right set of wine glasses to go in my cupboard with the perfect water glasses and champagne flutes which sit next to the Moscow Mule copper mugs. (Yes, I do own those. Yes, I do use them. I enjoy cocktails immensely.)
All of my preciousness about my things changed when I decided to move. I'm now in the midst of the third or fourth round of clothing purges. I'm selling the majority of my wardrobe on Poshmark and ThredUp to see what I can get money for and what will be donated. Old technology has gone off to Decluttr as well as DVDs because I can't remember the last time I turned my BluRay player on. Some of my furniture and barware will go to my best friend who has already claimed it. The rest of my furniture will be sold in a Craigslist fire sale or placed out on the curb to be scavenged, a time-honored tradition NYC tradition. Bags and bags of books have already been taken to my local library's used bookstore for donation, and I still have many bags to go. (The people there are starting to recognize me.) Friends are also getting surprise boxes of books sent via media mail to fill up their shelves.
It's not as though I'll be traveling to London with nothing. A box of winter things is already winding it way there. Research books (some difficult to replace as they're out of print) are going via M-bags, a form of international shipping I didn't even know existed before this move. My sister and her boyfriend will be in New York the week before I leave by happy coincidence and will take a pair of suitcases back with them. I, a woman who travels light and hates to check luggage, will attempt not to break out in hives at the idea of checking a second pair of suitcases when I board my one-way flight.
When I arrive in London, I'll still have things, but they'll be highly curated — the best parts of who I've been in New York through my 20s and who I want to be in London.
#5forFriday: Moving, Hotly Anticipated Books, and Scrivener
It's been a busy week! Here are the top 5 things I've loved, learned, and listened to:
- OMG I'm moving to London! I talked about the decision to move out of NYC in a post earlier this week, and while I'm thrilled I also still can't believe it. (But I'm sure it'll start feeling real once I bring the suitcases out and empty my apartment.)
- I got to speak to Sarah Aswell from SheKnows about my top 10 most-anticipated romance novels for the rest of 2017.
- This M. O'Keefe book is free right now and you better believe I grabbed a copy.
- On this month's First Draught we talked about Scrivener (i.e. the writing and organizational software that makes it possible for me to write several books at once). Here's a link to the podcast.
- This song by Odessa is giving me life this week:
Heroines, Choosing Happiness, and Why I'm Moving From NYC to London)
In a month, I'm going to be uprooting my life in New York City and moving to the United Kingdom.
I will do this to be living closer than a plane ride away from my parents for the first time in my adult life.
I will do this because my sister and her boyfriend will be only an hour away and I want my lady movie watching buddy back.
I will do this for adventure and a promise I made to myself a long time ago to do something that scares me to death every decade or so.
I will do this despite the fact that I'll leave behind friends and a life I've cultivated in weird, wonderful New York for nearly nine years.
I will do this without the security of a day job, giving me the chance for the first time in my author life to write full time for a little while.
I am excited and eager and trepidatious.
What I am not is uncertain about my choice.
My mother often tells me with a laugh that I'm just like my father. We mull over something as important as a life change or as simple as a new gadget for months, researching and weighing pros and cons. We learn everything we can about whatever it is that's caught our imagination. Recently this has led me to become a casual expert on:
- Running clothes and training guides (This obsession started a year ago and has not let up, leading me to be somewhat angry with my runner friends who didn't warn me that my laundry would soon be all running clothes and one morning a weekend would be devoted to long runs, often done in the cold and rain because you need those miles in the bank)
- Social media and content marketing programs like CoSchedule (Welcome to the sexy behind-the-scenes world of being a working author)
- External audio recorders (Podcasting)
- Shipping books internationally (My extensive research library is moving to London which is...a challenge)
My father and I will read, collect information, and take notes until one day we're ready. Like a flip being switched, we make our decision and rarely look back. It's as though steeping ourselves in all of that information has infused us with the ability to say, "Yes, that's exactly what I want."
It would make sense that this brand of seemingly contradictory dragged out decisiveness appeals to me. It's similar to the way that heroines in romance novels come to the realization that they are both in love and deserving of it.
The heroine spends the entire story getting to know the hero by talking to and interacting with him (or he does with him in M/M or she does with her in F/F). She might meet family or friends, see him on the job, or watch him at play. Often without realizing it, she's gathering information about the sort of partner he'll be letting that process in her subconscious until she's ready to choose.
All at once she knows. He's the one. It's Elizabeth realizing Darcy has saved her sister. Cher announcing "I love Josh" in front of the fountain in Beverly Hills. It's in the ah-ha moment we spend the entire movie or book waiting for.
Other people—even the hero—might try to move our heroine onto another path, but she's certain. She's chosen the love of the hero, just as she's chosen her own happiness.
This may I'll be choosing my own happiness as well as family and adventure. I plan to share bits and pieces of my move and subsequent settling in to the city I write about—even if the timeline is about 200 years off—and I hope you'll take the journey with me here as well on Instagram and Facebook.