Elisabeth Jason Romance

One particularly boring night, I found myself rifling through my garage, on the hunt for something...anything...to read. In time, I came across a romance novel my husband had dragged home from a yard sale months earlier. When he brought it home, I remember smiling at him in that "Aw, you shouldn't have, honey" way, then waited for him turn his back so I could stash the book in the darkest, most obscure corner of the house. Having found it again by accident, I stood in the dim light of the garage and grimaced. There he was...Fabio...chest bared, teeth gleaming, grinning up at me as if to say, "Come on, read about me, doll. You know you wanna!"

Well, who was I to argue with Fabio? I had two choices: flop down on the couch and eat cheesecake while watching reruns of sitcoms, or give the uber-man in his pirate get-up a whirl and see what he had to say. Option B won, hands down, so I slunk into the living room, fluffed up a pillow, and threw myself into my reading chair with just about zero enthusiasm. Little did I know, as I flipped to the first page, that I was about to embark on a journey that would just about flash-boil my socks!

I couldn't put the darn book down. I read it in a day. Drove to the book store. Bought another. Read it. Rushed to the library. Devoured several more within less than a week. I was on a rampage. The death toll was rising...my previous opinions about romance novels never stood a chance. They didn't even put up a fight. Wimps.

A few years passed, and I slowly began to realize that reading alone wasn't going to be enough any more. I needed a harder drug, but the little voice inside of me insisted that I just didn't have the right stuff to create compelling love stories, so I put it off time and again. Finding excuses not to write was easy enough. With two small children, a husband, a household to keep, a part-time job, and college, I kept telling myself that I just didn't have the time to pursue writing as a hobby, much less as a career. But late at night, when all was quiet, I knew I was lying to myself.

My mind began plotting my first attack on the keyboard. The various characters I'd thought up by then helped me.; after all, they were alpha-males, every one of them a warrior, the kind of men who'd been born with a sword in their hand and enough testosterone to make Superman look like a ninny. We struck one morning, quickly and effectively. I sat down, opened a blank document, hit the pages running, and finished my first complete manuscript within just four months. It was a disaster, but it was a beautiful one and taught me a lot about writing, and about what to avoid when I finally sat down to attempt a second novel.

Onward...to today.

SOUL SACRIFICE, my second novel, is now available from Aspen Mountain Press. Several other stories are in the works, and I look forward to writing every single day.

I sincerely hope that we will get better acquainted in the near future, and that I'll be granted the immense honor of securing in you a friend as well as a faithful reader. Heartfelt wishes for a wonderful day, week, month, year, and blessed life,

Elisabeth Jason, November 2006