A Rachel (and a SET IN STONE) check-in.

Hi, guys!

It’s been a while since I’ve said hello and dropped a note about what I’m up to. Rest easy, I’m elbows deep in SET IN STONE. The question of the year has been, “When? When? When? When are you releasing it?!” The answer is simple. I have no clue. I’m shooting for the beginning of the year (January-February 2015). The fact is that I write long books and I have the inability to produce quality and depth on a deadline. Isn’t that always the way? While I strive to bring you a book that will blow your socks off, I’ll leave you with some awesome. You can read the blurb and add SET IN STONE to your lists on Goodreads now! 

autumn maple leaf on leaves background


Cover reveal for FOREVER HEROES Anthology

Hi everyone. Today is the cover reveal for the FOREVER HEROES Anthology. CRAZY GOOD is included in there. :) TEN bestselling authors bring you TEN full length novels chock full of courage, sacrifice, and love. ALL proceeds will be donated to wounded soldiers, veterans and their families. Because this cause is so near and dear to my heart (and because the entire anthology is only 99c) I hope you guys will consider buying a copy. 

Add it to your Goodreads lists, tell your friends and family, tell the cashier at the supermarket! Spread the word about FOREVER HEROES. 

Set in Stone.

Set in Stone.

My fans are so awesome. You guys really, truly are the best. When I wrote Crazy Good I had no idea the effect it would have. I mean, as an author, you always hope that readers catch the subtle undertones, and those evocative scenes? Well, you guys get them. The countless daily e-mails and messages tell me so. Those same messages also tell me, in quite the deafening roar, “WE WANT MORE!”

Because Crazy Good is so (holy-crap-batman) well received, I get to continue on with this series. Set in Stone will be another standalone, because I’m not going to play the cliffy game with “the guys.” 1. I don’t think they’d appreciate it. 2. It’s my party and I’ll do what I want to.

Set in Stone IS Morganna and S****’s story. I really don’t want to give away anything other than that. I know you want more Stone. I’ve noted this request. :)

I’ll retreat into my bat cave, er, my office and make magic happen. If I can get it to you earlier, I will. And if I suck at life (hey, a kid off for the summer is sort of a hinderance) it might be a smidgeon late.

In the meantime, where are you guys located? I’ll be attending author events and I want to MEET YOU! Seriously, I need to see your faces.
– Rogers, Arkansas July 25-26 for the Indie Mashup http://www.indieauthorevent.com
– Anaheim, CA October 4th for the Authors in the OC http://www.authorsintheoc.com

Until next time: if you fly, I fly,

A deleted scene.

Author’s note: If you haven’t read Crazy Good, stop now! Click the X. Don’t read another sentence! *SPOILERS* If you have read it and you want a little extra Maverick, read on. This is the scene from the hospital (when he wakes up) written from Mav’s point of view.

Enjoy! xx

-Rachel Robinson


Darkness isn’t so much a helpless feeling as it is an anesthetic. Now that the black turns to a murky gray, I feel everything–the numbness leaving my body in sections. It’s slow at first, but the pain is fierce and violent when the ringing in my ears violates my skull. What the fuck happened? Where am I? Can I feel my arms? Check. Legs? Yep, they’re still there. My brain seems to be working because I wouldn’t feel like every fucking bone in my body was broken otherwise.

My eyelids seem to weigh more than a fucking Panzer when I try to lift them. I realize the shrill noise is actually voices. The fuzzy, echoing words confuse me, but I recognize a voice. I also recognize the tremor in that same voice. She’s upset. Soft, cold fingers graze my jaw, but disappear quickly. I crack my eyes open and wince, breathing in and out; forcing myself to regain some degree of fucking competence. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on something.

Hospital. Beeping monitors. Her voice again, “I’m out, Maverick. I’m leaving. Good luck, Mrs. Hart. You need it more than I do,” Windsor says, her footsteps growing faint until a door clicks closed. Panic sets in. I panic because I don’t know what’s happening. I panic because I know it’s something fucking terrible. I panic because I can’t remember what happened. Confusion isn’t a feeling that rests inside Maverick Hart easily.

“Mav! I’m here!” Warm hands wrap around my jaw. “Calm down! You’re okay. You’re fine. I’m here,” a woman says. Finally craning my neck to the side, my eyes lock on her face. The wrong woman. The absolute, wrong, fucking, face.

“No. Windsor. Windsor. Wh-er-e is Win-dsor,” I stutter, unable to use my own voice without searing pain tearing through my body. I don’t even care why Monica is here. She’ll get around to that fucking point soon enough, I’m sure. I want Windsor to come back. I need her.

“She left. I’m here, though,” Monica says as a bevy of white coats and green scrubs blast through the door causing my wife to back away to make room. I watch her as she moves away, a pit of dread filling my stomach. Windsor’s gone…and she’s not coming back. Monica just made sure of that. I ignore the cacophony of hospital equipment cascading upon my body and focus on this one fact–the only thing I know for sure. I latch onto this shot of clarity and hang on tight. It’s all I have.

Why you? I think, out-of-focus eyes locked directly on hers. She doesn’t look disappointed even though I know damn well she knows I don’t want her here. If anything she looks sad. That seals it. The situation is far worse than I feared. A doctor is trying to get my attention, but his voice sounds as if it’s in a well. What’s the last thing I remember? Tiny razor blade cuts down one side of my body feel like mother fucking fire.



The mission.


The doctor forces my face toward him, looking directly into my eyes he asks, “What is the last thing you remember, Mr. Hart?” He speaks slowly, as if I’m a small child–enunciating each word. I don’t need his patronizing questions. I don’t need anything from him. His lips keep moving, but my own words force their way inside instead.

One syllable. Five letters. Heart. The pain in my body concentrates in the center of my chest. More words.

Break. Death.

The most important word flashes through my mind. It’s the word that makes everything else disappear because nothing else matters.


© Rachel Robinson


Today was supposed to be the official release for Crazy Good. Instead, it’s flying high on the bestseller charts and I have no one to thank except for you. My readers. You guys love their unorthodox love story and I thank you for that. It’s always a little scary deviating from the norm. 60%, anyone?  I didn’t write it to torture you, nor did I write it for shock value. It’s real. It’s not my reality (thank heavens), but it’s a reality that is close to home. My home. And my swirling, not-normal, slice of life. 

With HUGE hesitation, apprehension, and a little holy-shit-what-am-I-doing, I shared a piece of my slice with the world. Thank you for welcoming Windsor and Maverick into your lives. Thank you for your awesome reviews. They make me laugh and cry and question whether the reviewers should be the ones writing novels. Thank you for the 4 a.m. up-all-night e-mails. Thank you for the Facebook messages and comments that make me feel like by writing a book I’ve entered YOUR slice of life. 

The frequently asked question this week has been: Morganna. Will she have a book?

The short answer: Yes!

The long answer: Morganna was the very first character I formed before writing Crazy Good. It’s odd that a secondary character came first, I know. She’s the backbone, if you will. I have no idea when her I’ll finish her story, but I will. :) Stay tuned. 



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