Armchair Travel with Judah Raine

I love armchair travel. I enjoy 'real' travel, too, but when I can't afford that, in either time or cash, then a good romance in a different location really works for me. That's why I adore historical romance and science fiction and fantasy romance - stories set in different times and places. That's why I am drawn to the novels of Judah Raine.

Judah is South African. She lives near to Durban. She writes about South Africa - the South Africa she knows. She brings me the rhythms of life of the country, of how people live and speak. She shows me the animals. She allows me to experience the weather there, the scents, the tastes. When I curl up with one of her novels, I feel transported to another continent.

Read one, and discover South Africa for yourself.

I'll finish with an excerpt, blurb and latest review from Judah's latest novel, A Thick Black Line.

EXCERPT:

No one spoke. All attention was riveted on the dance floor, but they were completely oblivious of the audience. Even Caro, who had innocently engineered what she thought was a simple slow dance, was wholly unprepared for the palpable and almost raw energy that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“Hot-damn!” she breathed. It was an instinctive response, a wholly inadequate response of something close to awe.
“And then some!” That from Andrea who was beside her, mouth open in unmitigated disbelief. “What the hell is going on there?”
Steve was smiling, but it was a kind of shaky, uncertain smile, like he wasn’t quite convinced that he wasn’t dreaming.
“I think,” he said softly, “that it’s the irresistible force and the immovable object.” Andrea shot him a questioning look. “Think of it like Ice Queen meets Sun King - freeze meets fire.”
Andrea looked back at Bo and her brother. Steve’s words sounded ridiculous, but they made sense in an entirely crazy kind of way.


Which was exactly the kind of thing that Bo was wrestling with herself. It had been so simple in the beginning. Just a dance. A challenge. A clash of two perfectly matched strong wills. But somewhere along the line the boundaries had shifted, the conventional rules lost in something that was way bigger, way more intense - something totally, frighteningly, fundamental and consuming.
Bo saw nothing - felt nothing - but the deep, talking blue of his eyes and the potent, demanding magnetism that surrounded him. She felt removed from anything normal, stripped of everything safe and familiar and secure. As if, somehow, on some deep and inexplicable level, they were irrevocably joined and had entered into a place where reason and logic and plain common sense simply didn’t exist.
A part of her wanted to pull back, pull away, free and find herself again. She wanted to grab hold of all things safe and real, but something in her - something strange and unfamiliar - fought back, refusing to give, wanting the crazy, the inside-out, the unthinkable.
When the music finally stopped, when reality at last crept in, she was still bent backwards over his arm. His eyes were unreadable, almost navy with an intensity that mirrored her own. Slowly, reluctantly, the silence penetrated.
“I’ve never really understood that dance,” he said, his voice oddly rough and dragging. “Until now, that is.”
Bo used his shirt to pull herself upright. She couldn’t think of a response, focused instead on the bleak off-white of the fabric. She could see his heart beating rapidly under the white of it, an echo of her own. It was oddly mesmerising.
There was a sharp and sudden burst of applause, like a spell was broken and everyone needed something to ease the tension.
Bo slipped out of Nic’s arms, leaving him there as she strolled - on shaking legs that hopefully no-one noticed - over to the bar. The barman gave her what seemed to be a sympathetic grin.
“Here,” he said, pushing a glass of wine at her. “You look like you could do with a little something.”
“You think?” She gulped down a sip or two. The music had started again. Something safe and cheerful, but it seemed loud and brittle. Bo saw the moment of escape. “I’ll send this back in the morning,” she said, lifting her glass.
He nodded. “You’re the boss.” Bo didn’t feel like it. Didn’t feel anything like the normal, in-control boss-lady she was supposed to be. She slipped around the bar and ducked on through the kitchen door feeling more like a delinquent than a respectable businesswoman. Safely outside, she breathed deeply, had another sip of wine, then picked her way carefully round the side of the building. She was home-free.
Or would have been if Nic Sinclaire hadn’t been doing pretty much the same thing that she was. Swallowing an instinctive shriek of fright, Bo struggled with a temptation to accuse him of deliberately waylaying her. But he was clearly as surprised as she was, and for a long moment they simply stared at one another in silence.
“What the hell happened back there?” he asked at last. He still sounded edgy. At least, she thought stupidly, she wasn’t the only one. Not that the realisation really helped her any.
“Happened?” She managed a good rendition of flippant, like she really had no idea what he was on about. The last thing she needed right now was a dissection exercise. The world still hadn’t quite returned to its usual axis, and examining it was going to be difficult.
“So that’s how you’re going to play it.”
“Play what? I really have no idea what you’re getting at.”
“Which,” he responded dryly, “is why you’re skulking around, slinking out the back door so that you don’t have to face anyone.” Put that way it sounded juvenile - which probably matched the delinquent feeling she was having quite well.
“I’m simply going home,” she protested reasonably, immensely glad that the darkness effectively hid the sudden rush of hot colour into her cheeks. She desperately needed to get a grip, and fast.
“Right. And tomorrow it’ll be all business-as-usual, like nothing happened.”
“Nothing did happen.” Bo was working really hard - against huge odds - to end this. Whatever this was. She still wasn’t sure. But there was no place for it in her world, and exorcism was way up on her to-do-immediately list.
“No.” He sounded thoughtful. Still intense and taut and compelled. Strangely, it frightened her. “But we both know - although somehow I get the feeling that you’d rather die than admit it - that it might as well have. Whatever that was - and I have no idea what it was - it was about as enormous and passionate and downright intimate as the real physical thing.”
Bo gasped her outrage, her indignation. Mainly because she was - very outraged and very indignant. But also because she knew, somewhere inside her, that he was right. And because just the thought of it terrified her, left her feeling like somehow she’d crossed every line she’d so carefully - so painfully, so determinedly - drawn for herself. And because she’d been so utterly powerless to stop it. Which terrified her more than anything.


BLURB:

Bo Carmichael has drawn a thick black line around her heart with good reason. She has worked hard to overcome the anguish of betrayal and the devastation this had wreaked in her family's lives, and is now close to realising her dreams. There simply isn't place in this equation for emotional entanglements, and especially not with Nic Sinclair who is the only man in a very long time who has the ability to breach those defences.
From their first encounter, an impossible chemistry rages between them - a crackling heat that seems set on melting the ice surrounding her.
Then a bizarre new twist makes Nic a constant companion and self-appointed protector, the situation does nothing to ease the conflict between them. As she is gradually pulled into a sinister underworld fraught with tension, fear and distrust, the line between her and Nic becomes smudged and unclear as his role in her life slowly changes shape.
When tragedy pushes her into a cold and lonely private world she is aware of the shifting of her barriers but seems unable to stop the process, is no longer even sure that she wants…


THIS IS WHAT CAMELLIA OF LASR SAYS: "Judah Raine tells an exciting story... The imagery, the wonderful character development so full of energy and intrigue along with the remarkable love lived and revealed enhances a compelling plot. The “bad guys” certainly give the “good guys” a run for their money. They are indeed antagonists to be reckoned with before we can see a happy-ever-after. Superb reading!"

My kind of hero...

I suppose, when it really comes down to it, I’m a pretty independent girl. Life has thrown me more than my fair share of curve balls, which has taught me to make my own decisions, stand on my own two (often very weary) feet, change my own light bulbs, fix my own loo and anything else in my bubble than needs TLC… except the car, I still need to master that one. Not that I regret learning all these “useful skills” (mostly by necessity and with any number of ooops moments along the way) but it would be nice, now and then, to have some super-able hunk step up to the plate and do the dratted chore in half the time it usually takes me (mainly because I lack the physical strength, that’s definitely a guy-thing).

Which probably pushes “willing and able to do stuff” rapidly upwards on my list of hero-criteria. A hero so romantically minded that he’s no earthly good definitely doesn’t qualify. Then again, having one who is so earthly minded that’s he’s no romantic good doesn’t quite cut it either. At the end of the day it would depend on the how and why of it… does he do stuff as the “macho” man, or because it keeps him in control? Or as the sensitive type and simply because he’s there, he can, and would like to lend a helping hand?

I’ve seen both types, sadly more of the former than the latter, and have to say (IMHO) that there’s nothing quite as, well, interesting as a gorgeous man helping out because he wants to. And while I’m all for the swashbuckling, riding out of the sunset, larger than life heroes, I tend to write “real” men. Heroes who have both feet on the ground, their hearts in the right place and their heads held high. My heroes tend to “own” the space they’re in, have the courage to let their sensitivity through and a strong code of ethics that makes their foundation.

Not perfect, not by any means. True courage in a hero is being able to say “I’m sorry” because they truly are and not because it’s expedient, or it’s expected of them. And they all have that streak of the romantic, that eternal, all-consuming something that keeps them hanging in no matter what, that has them fighting for what they believe in, that enables them to see beyond the here and now to the deeper things of the heart.

It may take time for them to “find” that. Heroes have to have a “growth journey” too. But they have a core of resilience that has them going the distance, and when they love… oh yes, they do it with heart, mind and soul. And a gorgeous hunky physical presence that’s willing and able to do what needs doing because they can, and because they want to.

Thanks for having me along! If you’d like to get to know my heroes a little better, you’ll find them here:

Still Running – a hero who has the courage and determination to fight for love…
The Look – a hero sensitive enough to be able to speak into her soul with a single look…
A Thick Black Line – willing, able, and there because he wants to be…

Have fun!
Jude
http://www.judahraine.com
Real Romance for Incurable Romantics

Poetry - the essence of being...

Hey everyone! With Midsummer Poetry Week coming up on the Pink Blog, it got me thinking about poetry in general. And how, so often, we regard poetry as being something in regular verses with a certain amount of rhyme, repetition, alliteration… True, modern “poetry” has broken free from many of these constraints, and “poetic licence” has taken on a whole new meaning. But all this deals essentially with form and structure. But what about the heart of poetry – the essential “something” that makes it a uniquely expressive literary genre?

While mindful of all the poetic conventions and the accepted definitions, I can’t seem to escape the idea that poetry is really so much more. To me, poetry is the “language of the soul” – a deep and unconstrained voice within us all that we can express in so many ways… through words, music, art…

Take the art of sculpture, for example – lines and images and beauty that tell their own kind of story and appeal to the aesthetic in all of us. Or a photograph that stands out, a masterpiece of light and shade and harmony. And what about a painting that strikes a chord, or a piece of music, or a particular line from a song? What is it about all of these things that “talks” to each of us in different ways, but no less powerfully than through the lines of poetry as we usually define it.

I believe that poetry is the expression of everything fluid and beautiful and deep within us. As a writer, with the obvious love for words, I recognise the “poet” in so many narratives and descriptive phrases, feel the power of the poetic gift through the right rendering of a tale. That gift finds many ways of expressing itself. It is a kind of reaching out of the human spirit beyond the here and now. It is vision and freedom and transformation. It is the ability of every human being to transcend circumstance, overcome fear, achieve greatness. And it is the ability to recognise the simple beauty in a flower, a butterfly, the laugh of a child…

Whether we love to dance, to paint, to sing… that is the spirit of the poet in us finding expression. It is eternal, a well-spring of life and joy and simple contentment. It is looking at life with the “inner eyes” of our spirits – with compassion and with wisdom, not to deny the existence of tragedy or pain or injustice, but rather to see beyond that to a gift as precious as life itself. To the gift of hope, and of faith, and of love. It is a way to live life to the full.

We all have it. It’s just that sometimes we lose sight of it along the way…

Thanks for having me!
Jude

Judah Raine
http://www.judahraine.com

A Thick Black Line - a story within a story...

A big South African wave to everyone at the Pink Blog! Phew, it’s been a while since I was last here, and with the current wave of cyber-darkness my end of the world I wasn’t sure I’d even get here today! But, here I am, and I’m celebrating – not just being able to use the internet, yay!! – but also the release today of my romantic suspense, A Thick Black Line.

Looking back on the writing of it, I’m amazed at how many details from my own experience managed to morph into the storyline… Nope, this is not true confession time, nor am I squeezing an “autobiography” between the pages of a romance novel! But it was an interesting journey. On the Classic Romance Revival blog, I mentioned the “what if” process that is my writer’s “go” button, and while that can largely be applied to the unexpected discovery of the setting all in a day’s work, it seems have been part of A Thick Black Line in a far broader context as well.

While re-reading during edits, I was astonished how a single, particularly awful blip on the radar screen of my life grew from a single tiny seed, took on a whole new personality, gathered in a couple of other characters, and transformed itself into a sinister background against which Bo and Nic discover one another and explore the emotions they confront along their own particular journey. It was a fascinating study into how events and situations can shape and mould us, or confront us and become a catalyst that launches a process of discovery. Most interesting of all, I discovered that, having experienced something similar, I was able to understand Bo and really explore the emotions and reactions precipitated by the plot. It really was a fun ride!

You can find A Thick Black Line at: http://www.bookstrand.com/product-athickblackline-13953-330.html In the meantime, here’s the blurb and a very short excerpt for you:

Blurb:
Bo Carmichael has drawn a thick black line around her heart, and with good reason. She has worked hard to overcome the anguish of betrayal and the devastation it wreaked in her family's lives, and she's now close to realizing her dreams. There simply isn't place in this equation for emotional entanglements, especially not with Nic Sinclaire, the only man who has the ability to breach her defenses.
From their first encounter, an impossible chemistry rages between them – a crackling heat that threatens to melt the ice surrounding her.
A bizarre twist makes Nic a constant companion and self-appointed protector. As Bo's barriers shift and crumble, she can no longer ignore the powerful emotions his proximity evokes…


Excerpt:
“You really have no clue, do you?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and once again shrunk the space between them. “I wish you could see yourself—the energy, the aliveness, like someone has hit a switch and you’re instantly powered-up. It’s fascinating, intriguing, irresistible, contagious. And just plain downright, unbelievably, sexy.”
Now that hit like a curved ball! Bo hadn’t even seen it coming. Why in the world did every conversation they had end up like this?
“Handbrake!” She reinforced her protest with both hands raised in a defensive, this-far-and-no-further gesture. Infuriatingly, wholly unperturbed, he simply laughed the challenge out loud.
“Why don’t you want to see that side of you?” he asked, stepping boldly into forbidden territory and ignoring both the voice in his head and her warning expression. “It’s who you are, passionate, dynamic, all-or-nothing. I’ll bet that you’re never really satisfied, always searching, always on the hunt for that unknown something to fill the hunger that you’re always working so hard to ignore.”
“So now you’re a shrink, too?” Cold, dispassionate. A definite, back-off kind of closed-ness that was command and warning and, oddly, a kind of plea. She gathered her things, slammed her file closed like it was some kind of security gate. “Let me give you some advice. Stick to your day job. This one doesn’t work too well.”
Before he could respond, because she wasn’t going to give him that chance, she had gone. Stiff and unyielding, angry in an ice-cold, controlled, even frightening kind of way that seemed to envelop her as she crossed the room to the door.
“A bit chilly here, huh?” Caro leaned across to take the plates, surprising Nic into wondering how much she’d heard.
“You think?” At least he had the grace to laugh. That earned him a good few points, and she flashed him a hugely sympathetic smile.
“And you’re still standing. Impressive. I know how lethal those icicles can be. But let me guess—something you said upset the Ice Queen.”
“Yep. I guess I overstepped that thick black line.”
“She’ll get over it. Even winter doesn’t last forever. Just a long time, and especially for her.” She had his attention now, took and deep breath and the opportunity she’d manage to wangle. “She wasn’t always like this, you know. There’s quite a story behind it, but it’s not mine to tell.”
“So you’re not going to help me out?”
Caro shook her head. “She’d have my guts for garters. But I can say that she’s about the most courageous and selfless person I know, and the way she is now is the way she needed to be to survive. The problem is that she’s been this person so long that she can’t see that she doesn’t need to be it anymore.”
“You’re not really helping.” It had a sardonic dryness that made her laugh again.
“I guess not. But it’s the best I can do. Except this, maybe…how do you melt an iceberg?”
Nic looked at her. Quizzical, speculative, very thoughtful. “A lot of heat?”
“Bright boy!” Caro slapped him cheerfully on the shoulder and left him to his musing with just enough to get him interested and not enough to get herself into hot water.

Just for fun, because I’m in the mood to celebrate, I’m going to add an ARC of A Thick Black Line to the Classic Romance Revival subscriber’s weekly draw for the last week of June (i.e. the short “two-day” week, 29th and 30th June) making it a double prize – A Thick Black Line and The Look.

To enter, simply go to the CRR blog at http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/. Enter your email in the Subscribe2 block in the sidebar and click send. You’ll receive a short story free read, and automatically go into the draw.

Oh, and don't forget the CRR Blog Carnival while you're there - dozens of prizes, and a lot of blog fun. You need to check it out!

See you all again soon. I’m off to celebrate!
Jude

Africa - Poetry in Motion...

Hey everyone! Judah Raine here, and to celebrate our "Animal Week" here on the Pink Blog I thought I'd open a little window on Africa's unusual "poets"... Theirs is a language all their own, separate from the things of man, beyond the reach of what we call civilization.

They talk of things past, things ancient and beautiful and wise, when the puny footprint of man had yet to come to this vast continent. Beyond the memory of time and human vision, they walked in peace and ruled this place with gentle wisdom. If man would but pause to hear their silent voice, he would learn much of the bonds that hold together, the loyalty that joins forever, and that real strength lies not in size but in the simplicity of quiet confidence and communal care...

They speak wisdom and beauty and power, capture all in a single languid stare that stirs the soul. Royalty measured in quiet repose, might in silent certainty. No need here, for the trappings of glory or for any mantle but that of simply being. Their fire mirrored in the glow of an African sunset, their crown the gold of an African dawn, they rest secure in the certainty of their unchallenged rule. Their music is the song of fluid motion, like a symphony gathered in the heat of the sun.

Light with the laughter of unbridled care, they dance to the song of the plains. Dust rises with the drumbeat of their hooves, and their rhythm pounds out the freedom of the African landscape. They wear their stripes with the pride of an ancient heritage, bold and beautiful and beyond the definition of logic. Their colours have no start and no end, no clear black on white or white on black, as if their freedom were proudly painted into their hides, declaring it for all to see, a living symbol of open places and endless motion that sings the mystery of time.

I could, of course, go on forever... the diversity and the singular beauty of each and every one is a lesson worth learning, a song worth sharing, a poem without beginning or end...

I hope you've enjoyed this peek through my little "African window". Thanks for joining me!
Jude

The Look - hot off the press...

The Look is due for release tomorrow (24th March) and I thought I share a little background, mainly on the setting, because this is my “stamping” ground – rural South Africa, with it’s interesting collection of “one-horse” towns (or is that one-shop?) dotted throughout the rolling farmland, where community is a way of life and values like family and loyalty prevail…

Thornleigh is a fictitious town, but it epitomises any and all of the little remote backwater “outposts” that you can stumble into on a leisurely drive through the KwaZulu-Natal Midlands region – and any other part of South Africa for that matter. “Town” is something of an exaggeration.

Thornleigh consists of a filling station, a general dealer (which also serves as the post office) and, of course, the farmers’ co-op. The general dealer usually stocks everything from pantyhose to safety pins to school shoes (our kids wear uniforms here) and beer. Oh, and brandy, let’s not forget that. Klipdrift, usually, a popular brand among farmers. The farmer’s co-op deals in anything from portable braai’s (barbeques) to irrigation systems and, of course, fertilizer.

What they lack in infrastructure, they more than compensate in a commodity beyond price – community. Everyone in the district is known. Their genealogy, who married who and is related to who and how, where their kids are at school (boarding school, of course), who owned that particular piece of farmland before them (right back to three and four generations) and what it was sold for in Nineteen-“voetsak” (a classic South Africanism which basically means the year dot).

The KZN Midlands is an incredibly beautiful area, stretching inland from the mild coastal areas. The land rises steadily upward from the Valley of a Thousand Hills, beyond the provincial capital, Pietermaritzburg, and on to become the foothills of the mighty Drakensberg mountain range. The scenery is spectacular – lush and green and softly beautiful in summer, and incredibly shaded in hues of rust and gold and brown in the drier winters.

It is part of the vast empire of the Zulu monarch, King Shaka, who forged a nation from the tribes he conquered and who ruled with an iron hand. A master-strategist, he revolutionised the tribal armies and turned his "impies" (battallions), with their massive shields and hand held spears, into a force that effectively challenged the might of the British Empire. The area is also steeped in other history, the canvas against which the Anglo-Zulu wars, and the Anglo-Boer wars took place, and before that the place of hope and new territory for the Boer farmers who trekked east and north, seeking to escape British rule.

It’s primarily farming country, cattle and horses, and crops as well. It’s well known for it’s trout fishing, with dams big and small opening their doors to anglers, and also hosts the Midlands Meander, a sightseeing trip drawing local and national and international visitors. A slow drive through farmland to all the little out of the way places reveals a treasure of tucked-away craft venues, with screen-printing, pottery, sculptures…. Anything you can think of, you’re bound to find it there.

It has also mushroomed with many bed and breakfasts – farmhouses opened to the public, where you can stay as long as you like, rest, take walks and hikes, horse rides, fishing… All of these offer the most amazing getaways, with hosts warm and welcoming and the atmosphere beyond description. Zulwini Lodge, which plays a big part in The Look, is just one of these places (Zulwini is the Zulu word for heaven). The Midlands area is also, with it’s sweeping vistas and water-painted views, a popular place for weddings, and venues usually have to be booked well in advance.

This is the remote backwater my heroine, the sassy, streetwise, Morgan Slater, finds herself in. She comes looking for facts. Instead she finds a truth far deeper, one that challenges all her assumptions and turns her life inside out. The Look is not just a story about love – although Morgan’s encounter with lodge owner Blake Thornton brings a whole new dimension, and conflict to her life. It’s about community, and family, and the layers that go into making us who we are. Layers that Morgan is forced to explore and confront and examine in her journey to things unimaginable.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! You can find it, along with an excerpt at: http://www.bookstrand.com/product-thelook-13952-330.html and I’ve included my blurb and author spotlight here…


Jude

Judah Raine
http://www.judahraine.com

Blurb:
With a secret that makes her pretty much a walking time-bomb with the potential to turn her own life and a whole lot of others inside-out, Morgan Slater's plans definitely don't include the suspicions of the determined and dynamic Blake Thornton.
She heads out to the back of beyond on a simple Quest for the Truth, but her first meeting with Blake draws the battle lines for a persistent confrontation that makes focusing on her real reason for being there extremely difficult. Worse, he has this uncanny instinct and a way of seeing beyond her sassy, street-wise confidence that makes their ongoing conflict more than simply a battle of wills.
But Morgan has also not anticipated a lot of other complications and, as she struggles to keep her secret and protect herself and others in a world of shifting boundaries and increasingly difficult emotional situations, The Look rapidly becomes...

Author Spotlight:
"I thoroughly enjoyed writing this book, because it explores the layers – in people, in situations, and in our assumptions about life and about truth and how they all fit together. Morgan's courage lies in allowing the process of stripping-away to become a process of adding-to, an intriguing journey that I think almost all of us can relate to." ~ Judah

Still Running - "insider tips from the horse's mouth"...

Hi everyone! I'm here to tell you about Judah Raine, sweet-sensual romance writer from Durban, South Africa. It's grand, grand, grand to have another place to blog! (Yes, I lurrrve blogging, how did you guess?) Now where was I... oh, right, Judah Raine. First thing you need to know is all her bookies... um, I mean books, are set in South Africa. Surprise, surprise...

Anyway, to get us off to a great start, I thought I'd share a little inside information on the first book, Still Running, which left the starting gate in December 2008. (Before I get carried away and forget this really important piece of information, here's where you can find it: http://www.bookstrand.com/product-stillrunning-13915-330.html) Need to tell you that, otherwise I'm gonna get the hoof, if you know what I mean.

So, Still Running is set in "racing country" - an area just inland from Durban called Shongweni. The name is derived from the Zulu name “Ntshongweni”, which means "column of smoke", referring to the spray of the waterfall on the Ugede River. The magnificent Shongweni dam lies in a deep depression formed by the Mlazi, Sterkfontein and Ugede rivers.

The scenery of the area is dominated by spectacular sandstone cliffs, steep gorges and valleys, and rolling green hills that lead on into the picturesque Valley of a Thousand Hills. It is a "picture-perfect" setting for a romance novel.

And, of course, there are horses. Gazillions of them. Many of the top racers on Durban's popular horse-racing circuit are born, bred and trained in the Shongweni area. The hero from Still Running, Cade Harper, is a "horse man" - and a lot more besides, as Josie, the heroine, soon discovers!



Now this is where things get interesting... You see, Josie Tate has been running for a long time – from her past, from a tragic secret, and mostly from herself. Then her life is suddenly upended, and she finds herself back in the one place on earth she doesn't want to be. Worse, she is suddenly caught between an unforgiving past and Cade Harper's unrelenting pursuit.

As determined as she is desperate, he seems hell-bent on making sure that her running days are over. It doesn't help that Cade is the most gorgeous man ever. Or that the uncanny attraction between them seems to have a life of its own.

But Josie is determined to keep her distance from Cade. He is equally determined to shatter the walls she is raising up between them. And when her ghosts reappear in the flesh Josie's life finally implodes. The only way out seems to be to keep on running...

More than anything, Still Running is about real people and real "stuff", and how life itself sometimes comes to our rescue and conspires to make us face things. I like Josie – she's tough and gutsy and has integrity. This is her story, and it's about pain and joy, but mostly it's about love, and the power it has to heal and set free...

What the "punters" are saying...

"Romance is in the air from the moment Josie met Cade. The sparks of anger and love fly between these two. The plot is endearing and the characters likable. Still Running by Judah Raine is sure to please the most astute fan of romance." (Five Stars from http://www.reviewyourbook.com/review.cfm?reviewid=1571

"I truly enjoyed reading Josie and Cade’s story. Josie’s angst and Cade’s stubbornness seemed to flow from the book. Even now, I can picture these two having a face-off–and I’m not sure who’d win! “Still Running” is Judah Raine’s tale of a tortured woman and the man who just won’t give up on her. And I think we’d all like to have a man like that." (JJMachshev Book Reviews)

“I love Cade. (Are all South African men that nice and sexy?)… I can understand why poor Josie was so tempted and wanted him so badly… We forget how secrets can mess up lives… I’m definitely going to buy your next book… The children were cute too…" (From Kathy_C, Salt Lake City).

So there you have it...

This is an invitation to step into Judah Raine's romance world, where things are as Write as Raine. Visit her website at http://www.judahraine.com, find out more about her and view her Images of Africa slideshows. Or catch up with her on her blog at http://www.judahraine.com/romancewriteup. For a free read, visit her RomanticSynonymous Blog at http://judahraine.blogspot.com and check out the "neverending story".

Thanks for this time and the opportunity to share a little of my world. I hope to see you all again soon.
Henry the Horse