button_yes = Yes
button_no = No
button_full_screen = Full screen
button_window = Window
button_back = Back
button_credits = Credits
button_support = Support
button_exit = Exit
button_continue = Continue
button_close = Close

level_time = Time: %d:%02d
level_score = Score: %d
ingame_extra_bonus = Time bonus

congratulations_title = Congratulations!
congratulations_time_label = Time taken:
congratulations_bonus_label = Extra bonus:
congratulations_score_label = Final score:
congratulations_button = Continue

save_score_info = Save your score
save_score_score = Your total score: %d
save_score_enter_name = Enter your name:
save_score_send_online = Would you like to send this score to the online ranking?

paused = Paused...
choose_your_game = Choose your game
game_klondike = Klondike
game_double_klondike = Double Klondike

# INGAME PANEL

panel_menu = Menu


# OPTIONS MENU

options_header = Options
options_switch_to_window = Switch to Windowed mode:
options_switch_to_full_screen = Switch to Full Screen mode:
options_sound_volume = Sound effects volume:
options_music_volume = Music volume:
options_header_ingame = Game paused...
options_save_and_exit = Stop playing:
options_go_back = Go back and keep playing:
options_version_info = Version: %s

# TOP SCORES

top_scores_header = Top Scores
top_scores_online = Check online
top_scores_no_scores = No scores yet...


# STORY 1

story1_title = LAST WORDS
story1_author = by Megan Hart

story1al = @@The string quartet played "Pachelbel's Canon" as I paced in front of the mirror.  Though I'd purposely chosen a gown without a long train, I still kept tripping on my hem. I wanted to tear off this dress and run out of the church to stop myself making the biggest mistake of my life.
"You look absolutely beautiful," Deanna, my best friend since grammar school, told me. "Betsy, you're making the right choice."
I hugged her fiercely. "Thank you for being here."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"I wish my mother could've said the same thing," I replied bitterly.@@

story1ar = @@I didn't want to think about the look on my mother's face when I'd told her I was going to marry Ben.  The memory was enough to churn my stomach.
"Your Mom's still grieving," Deanna. "She didn't mean it.  If she knew how much you and Ben really love each other, she wouldn't..."
"Nothing would be different." I collapsed into a chair and put my face in my hands.  "And what if she's right, Dee?  What if I shouldn't marry Ben?  He was my sister's husband!"
"Who took care of Lisa during her last few months? You and Ben.  It's only natural..."
"What? That we should fall in love?  While my sister was dying, I was stealing her husband!"@@

story1bl = @@I couldn't stop the tears now, and I didn't care if they ruined the makeup I'd so carefully applied. My heart was going to burst with the pain of losing her, and my guilt over what I was about to do.
"Nothing happened between you two until after Lisa was gone." Deanna's tone was harsh, but I loved her for it.
I thought of Ben, my handsome lover who'd first been like a brother to me, then became more.  He'd be waiting for me, maybe growing nervous about the delay, but never showing it. How could I disappoint him?
"I don't think I can go through with it," I said.  "It doesn't feel right!  I feel like I'm betraying Lisa!"
"Do you want me to go out and tell him you're not coming?"@@

story1br = @@"No, don't do that."
A familiar voice came from the doorway.  It was my mother, dressed beautifully and wearing a corsage.  Her face looked more lined than I remembered, but she was smiling through her tears.
She handed me a small white envelope.  "Betsy, this letter has been in my jewelry box for over a year.  Lisa gave it to me, but I was never able to bring myself to open it until today.  I think you should read it, now."
"Dear Mama. I don't want you to cry too long for me, because where I'm going will be better than anything I've ever known. Ben and Betsy are in love. I'm glad they're going to be happy together, because I couldn't bear the thought of either one of them wasting too much time missing me."@@

story1cl = @@"Be happy for them. And let them know I give my blessing. Love, Lisa."
I could hardly read the last few words through the tears, but as I did, the guilt lifted from my chest. I could breathe again.
This time the music made my heart pound with happiness instead of grief.  Each step I took down the aisle toward Ben seemed to take forever, so badly did I want to reach his side.
Has ever a groom kissed his bride so joyfully?  Perhaps everyone thinks the moment they face the world as a married couple is like no one else's.  I know when Ben kissed me for the first time as my husband, the earth could've stopped spinning and I wouldn't have cared.@@

story1cr = @@The church was filled with applause and cheers that rattled the roof as we walked out.  Outside, smiling faces surrounded us, blowing bubbles that drifted up into the sunny sky like dreams set free.  Ben's hand in mine was like a tiny piece of heaven right here on earth.
"Thank you, Lisa," I whispered as the crowd clamored for us to kiss again on the church steps.
I know she heard me.@@


# STORY 2

story2_title = TOUCHDOWN
story2_author = by Natalie J. Damschroder

story2al = @@Emma squinted against the steam rolling out of the shower room, seeking Dal Newton, hero of today's football game and notorious shunner of the press. She found him still in uniform, leaning against his locker, eyes closed. Perfect. All the other reporters were still upstairs at the post-game press conference. Emma was about to snag an exclusive interview.
"Mr. Newton."
Dal lifted his lids and grimaced when he saw her. "Go plant flowers or something." He moaned, bending to unlace a shoe.
Distracted by the strip of skin showing at the small of his back, Emma managed,@@

story2ar = @@"Don't tell me you're a sexist pig who thinks women can't report on sports."
"No, I'm a sexist pig who thinks women shouldn't be in the men's room."
Fair enough, but, "I'm not here for thrills, Mr. Newton. I'm here for an interview."
He cocked his eyebrow. "What makes you think you'll get one?"
"You're tired and I won't go away until you give it to me."
Dal managed to pull off a shoe and toss it into his locker. "Not if you're going to ask me which model I'm dating."
Emma snorted. "I'm a sports writer, not a gossip columnist."
"Okay, sweetheart, what was the last play we ran?"@@

story2bl = @@Dal crossed his arms, giving up on removing the other shoe. Emma knelt to tug it off, her whole body going on alert when she got that close. She threw the shoe over his shoulder and stood again.
"A screen. Theiler threw it behind you and Raynaldo missed a tackle. Your fancy footwork made you slip, and the hit you took in the end zone shook my teeth loose. But it won you the game."
Dal didn't look impressed. Emma didn't want him to be. Any ten-year-old could have spouted the same information. But if it would get her the interview, she'd take it. "Did I pass?"
"Yeah. I'll talk to you."
Emma did an internal fist pump and victory dance.@@

story2br = @@"What's your name?"
"Emma Burke. Cleveland Sun. Phew!" Dal had removed, with great effort, his jersey and pads. The compression tee underneath outlined his wide shoulders and broad chest. But Emma, covering her nose, almost wished she was watching him on TV. Almost. "I'll wait outside!"
* * *
Dal, now smelling clean and musky, talked easily as he ate a double cheeseburger and extra-large fries. After a half hour of questions, Emma had to ask why he was being so cooperative.
"What do you mean?" Dal asked through a mouthful of fried heaven. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"@@

story2cl = @@"Yeah, what I wanted, but not what I expected." She considered filching a few fries from his plate. Dal apparently noticed, because he swept one through ketchup and offered it to her. She opened her mouth and bit before she thought, and the spark in his eyes made her forget what the heck she was doing here.
"I've read your column," he said. "I know you're good." He shrugged, and Emma scowled.
"Then why the hell did you give me such a hard time?"
"It was fun." He grinned flirtatiously, erasing her irritation but unnerving her. She wasn't here to be a conquest, and was falling too easily into date-like patterns.@@

story2cr = @@She focused on her remaining questions, proving not only that she knew what she was talking about, but also that her interest was purely professional.
Except that it wasn't. Always impatient, she had waited an eternity -- fifteen minutes -- in the players' parking lot.  When Dal had finally come through the door, his essence had hit her like a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker.  His height, his strength, his jeans and knit shirt -- none of it compared to the sexy twinkle in his blue eyes. As they sat in the tiny booth now, knees brushing, feet bumping, she fought the urge to flirt back.
When they finished eating, he suggested a walk in the park. Emma would have declined, but she had one more question -- a question no one else had ever gotten an answer to.@@

story2dl = @@"Are the rumors true? Are you retiring this year?" She faced him to read his expression. His body language told her more. He squashed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, his eyes boring into her, assessing her motives. His voice was solemn when he answered. "Ask me in four weeks."
"How will I reach you in four weeks?"
Dal grinned, the flirt banishing the hint of despair she thought she'd seen in his eyes. "Something tells me you won't be very far away."
And she wasn't.@@


# STORY 3

story3_title = THE PRICE OF COFFEE
story3_author = by Misty Simon

story3al = @@Karen heard the newspaper drop outside her front door. The delivery boy was right on time -- the crack of dawn. Since she couldn't sleep, she figured she might as well entertain herself with the latest headlines of gloom and doom.
Belting her robe around her middle, she unlocked the three deadbolts and released the chain. Call her security conscious, but until she could afford a better neighborhood, she wasn't taking any chances.
As soon as she opened the door, she realized her mistake. She'd assumed no one else was out and about at this time of the morning. She'd assumed wrong.@@

story3ar = @@The guy next door, the one she'd eyed for weeks, was getting his paper, too.
If only the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Here she was in her ratty robe, her hair a rat's nest, and without makeup. Not exactly the impression she'd wanted to make the first time she met the guy face-to-face.
And he looked like a fantasy come true. Low-slung pajama bottoms hung loosely from a trim waist. His brown hair was sleep rumpled and fell sexily over his blue, blue eyes.
"Hi," he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Guess I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep."
"Um..." Great, Karen thought, nothing like one syllable grunts to let him know how intelligent she was.@@

story3bl = @@"I'm Brent." He stuck out his hand.
She wanted to introduce herself but was terrified she'd get too close and he'd get a whiff of morning breath. "Karen," she said -- mumbled, actually.
His hand still hung between them, and she felt like an idiot. Was it too late to shake? Would she look even dumber if she grabbed his hand at the instant he dropped it? Why was life so hard?
She must have stared at his very masculine hand too long because he said, "I won't bite, you know, unless you want me to."
Karen laughed. "I'm sure you don't." Their palms connected. "It's nice to meet you."
"You, too. I kept hoping I'd run into you sometime, but you always seem to be on the go."@@

story3br = @@"I haven't seen you out a lot." Why, oh, why did she say that? Now, he'd think she was some kind of stalker chick.
"I work at home, but I like to run to get some exercise in."
"Oh." Thinking of him running made her give him the once-over and take note of his glorious abs. When her eyes met his, again, she blushed and cleared her throat.
"I think that ogle deserves some payback."
"You do?" she squeaked, clutching the lapels of her robe together.
"Absolutely. I get to name my price." His eyes twinkled.
Karen hoped Brent's price wasn't something smarmy that would ruin her image of him.@@

story3cl = @@"Do you drink coffee?"
The abrupt subject change caught her off guard. "Um, yes."
"Do you have coffee?"
"Of course."
"There's no 'of course' about it. I ran out last night and have to have caffeine. My price is coffee."
"Did you want me to go get you some grounds?" Her voice sounded disappointed to her, but she couldn't help it.
"I was thinking more along the lines of sharing some coffee, maybe with you."
She looked down at herself, then up into his eyes. "If you're sure."@@

story3cr = @@"Karen, I've been sure since I saw you across the parking lot a week ago."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Oh." The smile crept onto her face slowly and felt right for the first time in a long time. She led Brent into her cheery kitchen, hoping this was the beginning of many more mornings of coffee together in their pjs.@@


# STORY 4

story4_title = FATE
story4_author = by Victoria Smith

story4al = @@Rain pelted the wooden deck, mist touching her face as she watched the storm. The ocean churned with rage, angry waves reaching towards the dark clouds. Faith recognized her emotions in the water. She'd held onto the anger, the bitterness for too long before realizing she still had a life to live. She'd come to this beach to find her smile.
It hadn't been a mistake.
The rain stopped. She stepped onto the deck to watch the sky clear as a vaguely familiar man walked the wet sand, occasionally stopping to inspect debris the storm had forced onto the beach. He couldn't be Patrick. She hadn't seen him in twenty years.@@

story4ar = @@She looked away, memories filling her. She'd been to this same beach with her family the summer before her senior year of college. Patrick had stumbled over her while trying to catch a football. He'd been adorable and apologetic and she'd instantly fallen in love.
He said he felt the same and promised they'd make it through a year of separation -- her in college in Pennsylvania and him finishing his residency in a California hospital. They'd made it to October before he'd called to tell her he was sorry. He'd reconnected with his ex-girlfriend and she was pregnant.
Faith had been crushed. Eventually she'd healed. And met Jack. He'd been her best friend, her strength, and her weakness, solidly filling in the other half of her heart.@@

story4bl = @@They'd had fifteen beautiful years together before he was taken from her by a drunk driver. The love they'd shared was what had given her the strength to move forward. She was finally ready to reach out again.
The man walked by, glancing over. Faith almost called out to him, but decided her trip down memory lane had caused her vision to trick her. She turned to go inside the house when someone called her name. The voice was slightly familiar and her heart stopped. Patrick. That anger from the past never surfaced. Loving Jack had taught her everyone deserved a second chance. Patrick smiled when she faced him. He was even more handsome and her stomach flipped.@@

story4br = @@"Faith Johnson? I can't believe it." He smiled and everything she should have said fled her mind.
"It's Faith Hoover now." She cringed at how cold her voice sounded. The fantasies she'd started having after Jack died had never gone like this.
"Right. I'd love to meet the man who won your heart," he said.
"And I'd love for you to meet him, but unfortunately he passed away four years ago." She sat on the steps, realizing her shorts were now soaked thanks to the earlier rain.
"I'm sorry. Really, I am." Before she could warn him, he sat next to her.
"Your wife's going to wonder why your butt's wet," she said when he grimaced.@@

story4cl = @@"No wife. Not anymore." He grabbed her hand and squeezed, an awkward silence surrounding them. "I'm sorry, Faith. I was so stupid. I got so wrapped up in my career and my goals that I forgot how it felt to be with you. When Stacy told me she was pregnant, I believed her. We hadn't been apart long enough for me to question it. By the time I realized she'd lied, she really was pregnant."
"So you have a child?" Sadness touched her. She and Jack had never been able to conceive.
"No. Stacy miscarried. When our marriage finally ended ten years ago, I'd convinced myself everything was my fault. It took me a long time to realize we just weren't meant for each other and forgive her. And myself." He squeezed her hand again.@@

story4cr = @@They spent the next hour catching up and laughing. Faith relaxed as her heart creaked open again and she realized the sparks that had been between them twenty years ago were still there. Maybe things had worked out as they should, and maybe now was the right time for her and Patrick.
"I've been thinking about you a lot. How weird is it that we're here at the same time?" The corners of Patrick's eyes crinkled with his grin.
"Maybe it's fate." She touched his cheek. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"@@



# STORY 5

story5_title = THE SIX OF HEARTS
story5_author = by Kimber Chin

story5al = @@She was too late.
The auction was over. "Who bought it?" she asked an elderly man sporting an ivory Stetson. "Who bought the six of hearts?" She'd flown half way across the country to bid on it, the auction flyer with that lot circled mysteriously arriving in her mailbox. Her grandmother's relapse forced her to take a later flight, delayed even more by storms, and now she was too late.
"The playing card?" He removed his hat to scratch his head. "I believe it was the dark haired man over there," he pointed, "in the black suit."
She knew without looking who it was, aware of his presence as soon as she entered the room.@@

story5ar = @@Vince Nawlins, handsome, intelligent, and her direct competition. He delighted in outbidding her on any item her clients searched for.
Only this wasn't a business purchase. It was personal. And she wouldn't let him have it. It meant too much to her, to her grandmother. Desiree charged over to where he held court, the other collectors hanging onto his every word. "You... you... you..." she spluttered.
"Yes, it's me, me, me." Vince turned, brown eyes glittering. "On time as usual, Desiree."
A dig. She prided herself on being early for every auction. "You know I wanted that card." It was the last one missing in her grandmother's deck, the ace of spades located last week. "But you had to have it."@@

story5bl = @@"Yes, I did." He put an arm around her and steered her into the empty hallway. There was strength, determination in that casual embrace. "Is everything okay?"
That almost sounded like concern. She studied him. No concern, mild curiosity. "How can everything be okay? You have my card."
A corner of his mouth jerked up in that lopsided grin she found so aggravating... and, if she was honest with herself, endearing. "Ahhh... my Desiree with her one track mind. I'm doing you a favor, sweetheart. What would you do with yourself after you find the last two cards?"
"The last card," she corrected, distracted by the way he held her close. He smelled of dusty attics and leather covered books and man.@@

story5br = @@"You found the ace of spades?" His eyebrows shot up. "I heard only one of those still existed, owned by an eccentric little man living in the back of nowhere."
How did he know that? "He IS eccentric." Talking about how selling the card to her was part of his deal with the devil.
"Yes, he is, a real character." Vince chuckled. He stroked her back, causing her skin to vibrate with excited little tremors. "Sometimes I wonder if you and I will end up that way."
You and I. She shook herself. She had to focus. On obtaining the card. Not Vince's touch. "What do you want for it?"
"That one track mind again." He sighed, felt inside his suit jacket, took out the card. "I want nothing." Vince placed it in her trembling hand, his fingers caressing hers. "Absolutely nothing."@@

story5cl = @@The card was beautiful. The colors on the face rich as though hand painted yesterday. "Nothing?" He was giving it to her? "You must want something." She looked up at him.
His eyes glowed. "There is something I've wanted to do for a long time," his voice deepened. He bent his head to kiss her.@@

story5cr = @@ @@



# STORY 6

story6_title = WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT
story6_author = by Dee Tenorio

story6al = @@Her feet pounded on the track, the solid slap of her shoes fighting to be heard over the rain falling in sheets. Of course, no one else in their right mind would be running in weather like this, but Kaylee couldn't help herself. It was run or drown herself in a barrel of ice cream and the days when she was willing to do that were long gone. Especially not over a guy. Not even THE guy.
Instead, she preferred to get pneumonia running around in a monsoon.
Yeah, that was a good plan. Way better one than blurting to her best friend -- the one who'd been by her side through her miserable overweight teen years, the@@

story6ar = @@self-conscious college years and finally through uncovering the woman she always wanted to be -- that she was in love with him at his own engagement party. While dancing with him, not ten feet from his prospective bride.
The horror on Micah's face had been enough to send her running from the party and she hadn't stopped to do anything but change her clothes and come to the high school track where she didn't have to stop until her body couldn't take anymore. Or she drowned in the rain, whichever came first.
Somewhere around lap eighteen, she figured the expected fever had to be kicking in, because she almost thought she heard Micah bellowing her name. It couldn't be, though. She trudged on,@@

story6bl = @@stopping only when a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders.
"Kay!"
She stared upward, unable to believe her eyes. Micah, angry, his hair plastered to his forehead, his heavy coat as soaked as her own.
"I've been looking for you for an hour! Are you trying to kill yourself out here?"
Huh, maybe THAT was the plan? "What are you doing here? The party..."
Impossibly, his jaw hardened further. "The party's over."
"But Felicia--"
"Understands," he interrupted, staring down at her as if willing her to understand something, too. Maybe she'd been running@@

story6br = @@too long, but whatever it was, she wasn't getting it. "But you still don't, do you?"
She didn't get time to answer. Instead, Micah yanked her against him, his mouth finding hers as if they were made to be together. And oh, they might have been. She opened for him without thought, forgetting all about the rain, her embarrassment, his fiancee -- wait a minute! She shoved him away. "What are you doing, you're engaged!"
"Not anymore. Which you would have known about if you hadn't run out of the party."
His censure brought all the misery of watching him with Felicia bubbling to the surface. "I couldn't stay. You were so...so..."
"Relieved?" he demanded, sounding anything but. "Because I've been waiting@@

story6cl = @@twenty years for you to feel for me what I've always felt for you, but you waited until my engagement party to tell me about? While a hundred and fifty people were watching? Listening?"
"That doesn't sound like relief."
"Well it is!" He growled. "You've got the worst timing of anyone I've ever known!"
"You think I don't know that?" Realizing she was in love with her best friend only when he was about to marry someone else was the worst timing possible. "I didn't mean to say it, okay?"
Shock jerked him. "You didn't mean to say it or you didn't mean it?"
There it was. Her way out. If she wanted to take it. But looking at his beloved face, every line memorized, every scar a@@

story6cr = @@memory, every imperfection part of what made him special. She didn't want out. "I meant it more than anything in my whole life. I love you, Micah."
His eyes closed, a shudder running through him. As if her words shook him to the core. When he opened them again, long seconds later, the heat in them burned through her wet clothes to warm her all the way to her soul. His arms wrapped around her again, but instead of the kiss she expected, he brought his forehead down to hers and sighed. "I've been waiting my whole life to say this."
She knew what he was going to say, could feel it thawing her as she slipped her arms around his neck and held on tight. But to hear it would make everything right, for the first time in her life. Would make it all worth waiting for.@@

story6dl = @@"I love you too, Kaylee Hale. I always have. I always will."
No, she was wrong. She smiled, tugging him closer. Pulling him down for a kiss she knew was the start of the rest of their lives. This made her future worth looking forward to.@@

story6dr = @@ @@

# STORY 7

story7_title = CLARISSA AND HASTINGS
story7_author = by Sherry Thomas

story7al = @@My Dear Sir,
Of course I have thought--much too often--about our eventual meeting.
Our correspondence has given me such sustained pleasure in the past three years.  I feel I know you so well already.  I can almost hear your voice as I read your words; almost see the smile on your face at your wry admission on the impossibility of remaining completely detached amidst so much Jubilee fever.
But I dread this meeting you propose.  I fear that it would be the curtain falling on@@

story7ar = @@this cerebral affair of ours.  That in person we would neither of us be what the other had hoped for or expected.
Please, must we?  Let us not meet in haste and regret ever after.
Fondly yours,
A Lady of Discretion@@


story7bl = @@My Dear Lady,
Allow me to confess at last: We are not strangers, you and I.
Yes, we do know each other in person.  In fact, I quite admired and enjoyed the sight of you in your audacious gold-and-scarlet gown the other night at Lady Humphrey's soirée musicale.
You are and have always been what I have hoped for, but had not quite expected, Clarissa.  (Of course I know your given name, and of course I dare to use it without your leave.)  It is only the truth about me that your fear, is it not?  That in person I would disappoint dreadfully?
Your humble servant,
A Gentleman of Prudence@@

story7br = @@My Dear Sir,
You do shock me.  I have believed, all this time, that you write from some remote turret, surrounded by your tomes and your instruments of learning.  Disturbed, I sat up the whole of last night and re-read all of your letters to me, only to realize at the end that you never said any such thing.  It was only your erudition--and trenchant observations on the foibles of Society--that had led me to conclude, all on my own, that you must reside at distance from it, well above from its silly fray.
I spent most of this day in a daze of confusion and indecision.  But now I see that you deserve nothing less than the entire truth.  So here it is then, the unvarnished truth--and forgive me if my penmanship deteriorates, for my hand does tremble:@@

story7cl = @@I do love you, dear sir, for your brilliant mind, your dazzling wit, and your profoundly sympathetic soul.  But to my own dismay, I have also, for the past eighteen months, been desperately in love with Viscount Hastings.
It shames me, particularly as I hardly know the man except for his looks--his lordship is famously aloof.  But it is an infatuation that will not sensibly fade away.  When he glances my way, as he did the night of Lady Humphrey's soirée musicale, my whole person burns with a desire that cannot be doused or quenched.  (I was so consumed with him that night, I noticed no other man.  And to think that you were there too--I am beyond mortified.)
When I picture you, it is invariably him I see--his eyes, his lips, his occasional smiles@@

story7cr = @@that render me as witless as a school girl.  And it is for that reason that I have declined your request to meet in person time and again.
I should know better but I do not.  Forgive me.
Clarissa Granville
P.S. I know the two of you are not the same person--alas--because I have corresponded with Lord Hastings on a property of mine which he later acquired as dowry for his sister.@@

story7dl = @@Dearest Clarissa,
Now I know at last why you turn your face away whenever our eyes meet.  You have little idea of the torment this has caused me.  How I wish I hadn't had my secretary write those letters about the estate in Lancashire. But as I have never been the most socially adroit man, I was afraid to reveal myself at that time, in case I had guessed correctly and it was truly you who was A Lady of Discretion: I did not know how you would react to find A Gentleman of Prudence shy and ill at ease in person.
Your humble servant,
Hastings
P.S. Famously aloof?!  My goodness.@@

story7dr = @@P.P.S. Look out your window.  I hope you still like purple sweet peas, for I will be holding an enormous armful of them.@@


# BIOS

bio_website_click = Click the button to visit author's website:
bio_website_button = Website

bio_megan = @@MEGAN HART
When she was in third grade, Megan Hart fell in love for the first time. Not with a boy (that would wait until fourth grade), but with a story. Homecoming by Ray Bradbury leaped out at her from the pages of a library book, and she tumbled head over heels. Before the days of photocopiers, the only way for her to keep a copy of this story was to copy it out by hand. Something funny happened, though, as she carefully printed it on lined notebook paper. She made "improvements."
Megan began writing short fantasy, horror and science fiction before graduating to novel-length romances. In 2002 she saw her first book in print, and she hasn't stopped since.
She's published in almost every genre of romantic fiction, including historical, contemporary, romantic suspense, romantic comedy, futuristic, fantasy and perhaps most notably, erotic.@@

bio_sherry = @@SHERRY THOMAS
Sherry Thomas is a Rita-nominated, award-winning author of historical romances.  Her debut book, "Private Arrangements", is a Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2008.  Her sophomore book, "Delicious", is a Library Journal Best Romance of 2008.  Lisa Kleypas calls her "the most powerfully original historical romance author working today."
Her story is all the more interesting given that English is Sherry's second language--she has come a long way from the days when she made her laborious way through Rosemary Roger's "Sweet Savage Love" with an English-Chinese dictionary.  She enjoys creating stories.  And when she is not writing, she thinks about the zen and zaniness of her profession, plays computer games with her sons, and reads as many fabulous books as she can find.
Her latest release, "Not Quite a Husband", is currently in stores.@@

bio_natalie = @@NATALIE DAMSCHRODER
Natalie J. Damschroder started out a single mother whose main goal was independence. After she got that worked out, she became a banker who fell in love with a stripper, then a pregnant woman left with nothing, who ALSO fell in love with a (different) stripper.
Since then, she's been transported to a new dimension that she helped to save -- twice -- seduced her favorite actor, had zero-gravity sex on a moon station... oh, and kicked butt as a former NSA operative. And she did all of that in her jammies.
What in the world could be a better job than writer?@@

bio_misty = @@MISTY SIMON
Misty started writing ridiculous plays for her neighborhood to act out on her front porch when she was really young. Graduated to terrible, mopey poetry in high school. She also co-wrote her high school alma mater. Then put the writing away for a while. Took it back out because she had an idea for a children's book and eventually moved into romance. After she won a writing round robin contest on eharlequin.com she started to take herself a little more seriously.
When she wanted something a little different, she went the cozy mystery route, though she admits the Ivy Morris Mysteries are more of a Misty-hybrid. They blend romance and mystery with a good old dollop of funny.
She has published in a variety of genres and continues to love them all.@@

bio_dee = @@DEE TENORIO
002, otherwise known as Secret Agent Mom, Dee Tenorio lives a double life. By day, she's a mild-mannered stay at home mom, somewhat lovingly rearing her eleven-year-old son -- that fiendish destroyer of all things that can break -- as well as his twin sisters. Together, they challenge her by systematically destroying her dream couch, hiding carpet stains under toys and loosening her brain stem with the ever repetitive viewings of Spongebob Squarepants.
By night, however, 002 is a wild adventurer! She fights valiantly for truth, justice, and the right to look at half-naked men on romance novel covers without prejudice by quietly writing romance novels ranging from comedy to erotica to adventurous drama. She currently publishes with Samhain Publishing, secure only in the knowledge that her secret life is safe from public knowledge...
Dangit! (Dee smacks her forehead) I wasn't supposed to tell, was I? Shoot, no wonder 007 gets all the good cases....@@

bio_kimber = @@KIMBER CHIN
Kimber Chin writes sexy contemporary romances featuring billionaire businessmen heroes, witty heroines, and exotic locals.  She loves playing solitaire online as these stories percolate in her brain.  She believes playing cards with their kings and queens and jokers have the perfect cast of characters for a romance novel.
Kimber Chin is happily married to her own romance hero.  Although he is not a billionaire businessman, her charming salesguy is very supportive of her dreams.  They enjoy traveling all over the world, looking for settings for Kimber's next novel.@@

bio_victoria = @@VICTORIA SMITH
Victoria Smith wrote her first romance at the age of nine and promptly hid the story from her older brothers to avoid being teased. If you're lucky, one day she might reveal the hero of that story. Now, she writes dark paranormal and urban fantasy - always with a happy, or at least satisfying, ending.
An active member of Central Pennsylvania Romance Writers, Victoria lives in Central Pennsylvania with her high school sweetheart, four children, and an oversized mutt who thinks she's a lapdog.@@
