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 CupidsAngels200Today Wednesday Writers welcomes author Erin Bevin. Erin will be talking about something we writers understand all too well—disembodied voices.

She’s also giving us a peek at her recent sweet contemporary release Cupid’s Angels  and providing an EBook giveaway of Cupid’s Angels to one lucky winner. Giveaway will run today through noon Tuesday, September 22. To be entered in the drawing, leave a comment or like Erin’s post. You can also tweet the following phrase to be entered in the drawing. #SweetRomance Cupid’s Angels #EBookGiveaway @AuthorCCastle Wednesday Writers Blog series

Winners will be announced on Tuesday September 22, after noon EST. Winner will have one week to leave a comment on this post so I can contact you about your prize.


And now, Erin, tell us about those voices!


 I hear voices in my head. Well, not really, but I guess I kind of do. Not crazy voices that tell me to harm people, but funny lines and jokes that have to be written down on paper and told from a character’s point of view.

I also hear these voices at the weirdest times. I could be blow drying my hair, lacing up my sneakers, or washing the dishes. Strange, how doing the most mundane tasks can unlock a part of my brain that is begging to be released. My neighbor, who is a psychiatric nurse, informed me that I have to be in a Zen like state in order for the creative process to flow. She also explained to me why when I’m on the treadmill, in a spin class, or cleaning the house it’s understandable for characters, scenes, and plots to pop into my mind. What I’m doing is monotonous, doesn’t require much thought. The “Zen” state is met. I find it a little upsetting that I seem to be my most “Zen” doing house chores. What kind of boring life do I lead?

I suppose that’s why I live through my characters. I put them through exciting, silly adventures because the most excitement I get in my day is figuring out what stain removers I’m going to mix to get the spitty Fruit Loop dye off my son’s shirt. And, that’s okay. I’ll leave the excitement to the page and enjoy my Zen or monotonous reality. But, honestly, with three kids, it’s never that Zen.

Have a great day, everyone!



Cupid’s Angels


Erin Bevan


Ellie Childs isn’t looking for love. She’s looking for an AC technician for the Forest Wood Senior Center. But, when the repairman happens to be tall, dark, and handsome, he has the goods to make her change her mind. Unfortunately, he’s taken by a blonde Barbie.

 David White moved to Cupid, Arkansas, to be closer to the woman he loves, his grandma, and away from his ex-fiancée. Believing his broken heart would never work again, he’s proven wrong. Ellie’s shimmering auburn curls and compassionate nature sends his heart thumping. His mind soars with thoughts of giving love another shot. But as luck would have it, she’s taken, and the guy she’s seeing is a real jerk.

 When David’s grandmother sees how perfect Ellie would be for her grandson, she gathers the troops. She and her three friends form Cupid’s Angels. Their mission, to bring David and Ellie together. Despite their best efforts, the Angels’ plans backfire, pushing David and Ellie farther apart and into the arms of others. Or, so they think.

 Will the Angels’ good intentions win out, or will their plots and schemes undermine what could have been the love of a lifetime for David and Ellie?



She opened her office door ready to face the damages. Expecting another sweat covered Neanderthal in Bib Overalls, her mouth fell slack at the sight of a handsome man at the end of the hall. She gasped and gripped the folder tighter, blinking to make sure she was seeing clearly. The only attractive men that ever walked into the Center had been over the age of fifty. To see one so young, so striking, made her light-headed.

A tight white undershirt gripped sculpted bicep muscles and broad shoulders. His jeans hung low on his hips and sported holes in the knees. His suntanned skin accented his bronze hair, and an easy smile spread across his face. He carried a toolbox in his left hand and held a bouquet of roses in his right.

Everything about him caused her knees to go weak.

“Hey, Grandma.” He kissed Mary’s cheek and placed the roses into her small hands. “These are for you.”

“Oh, David. You shouldn’t have. They’re lovely. Come over here. I want you to meet someone.”

Before Ellie could get her wits about her, the two walked toward her. She straightened her blouse again and wished she would have taken the time to do something more with her hair, or maybe apply a little lip-gloss. Her ginger curls were a frizzy mess, and her blouse still had the coffee stain right on her breast.

“Ellie, I’d like you to meet my grandson, David. David, this is Ellie. She’s the Center’s Executive Director and a dear friend.”

“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.

“You, too.” She slipped her clammy hand in his. Rough calluses scratched her palm and his touch sent a shiver through her.

“Gran tells me you’re having trouble with your air. You mind showing me where the unit is?”

She saw his lips move, but didn’t understand a word he said.

“What?” She asked dumbly.

“The AC unit. Is it outside?”

“Oh, yeah. The unit.” Ellie wondered if her voice sounded as shaky as her knees were. He flashed her another smile that made her want to grab his hand and go find a utility closet somewhere. His strong build, handsome face, sparkling green eyes, and the fact that he brought his grandma roses had her heart beating like a nineteenth century drummer boy heading into battle. She fanned her face with the folder. Her sweaty palms had caused the thick Manila paper to go limp.


Want to read more? Check out Cupid’s Angels at Amazon.


headshot Erin BevanAbout the Author:

Erin Bevan was born and raised in Southwest Arkansas. She spent her teenage years working for her aunt at the local gas station flipping burgers and making milkshakes dreaming of the day when something better would come her way.

Fast forward ten years later, she found herself stuck inside an apartment in South Korea while her daughter went to preschool and her husband went to work. Alone and unable to speak the local language she turned to books for a friend. After reading a few hundred in such a short time, she decided to try her hand at writing one.

That first one sucked, but by the fifth and sixth book, Erin started to get the hang of this writing thing. Getting the first contract in the mail was a dream come true. Now, with three babies at home, she squeezes in stories one word at a time, one sentence at a time, one day at a time. She’s a full-time mom, a full-time wife, with a little writer sprinkled in whenever she can get the chance.


Connect with Erin at her website  Facebook Twitter: @ErinBevan