Friday, April 06, 2012

HOT DIGGITY DOG! A TOP PICK REVIEW!


Great reviews thrill authors, and I am so excited about my Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews for BRAZOS BRIDE. Picture me doing a Snoopy Happy Dance around the house. Ouch, I tripped over a couple of cats and a dog. Okay, instead of me dancing, picture me smiling a lot. Really a lot.

Pour your favorite beverage and let's toast to a fabulous review! I'm lifting my Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper in a happy toast to you readers and to BRAZOS BRIDE and the Men of Stone Mountain trilogy and to the reviewer Barb.

Here’s the review by Barb of Night Owl Reviews:


"I found this book to be very entertaining. I read it in one afternoon because I had to know who was trying to murder Hope, the heroine. Her interaction with Micah and their relationship was the heart of the story. I really got into the story and the characters. The mystery of just who of the many characters were the evil ones kept me reading and turning pages (so to speak) on my Kindle. I was unable to stop reading this book until I finished it. That really says something for the author's plot and cast of characters. I enjoy these types of books, but this one was exceptional. I will be patiently waiting for the stories of Micah's brothers, Zach and Joel. I see the potential for some very good stories following these brothers' lives. Good job in making me want more.
Mar 28, 2012
B007HS10SY
Top Pick 4.5 stars"






Wasn't that great? And she wants more about the Stone brothers. Oh, thank heavens! I have more stories about the Men of Stone Mountain, two more to be exact. Right now, I’m writing Zach’s story and having so much fun with his heroine, Mary Alice Price. But that’s for another time. Today, help me celebrate my Top Pick review for BRAZOS BRIDE.

And this book is only 99 cents from Kindle. What a bargain! The buy link is:
http://www.amazon.com/Brazos-Bride-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B007HS10SY/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1333679517&sr=1-11

The book is set on the Brazos River in 1870, hence the name. The ranch is near present day Possum Kingdom Lake. The Brazos River is shown below.

Brazos River, longest river in Texas

Yep, Possum Kingdom Lake is a real place. Actally the ranch from which I modeled that in the book was huge, and part of it would now be under the lake. There's plenty still topside, though, including the historic homesite. 
Possum Kingdom Lake including the cliff
that is part of the original ranch

I changed the actual ranch's home into a haceinda because the heroine is Hispanic. (Besides, I love Spanish architecture.) But the ranch is a genuine working ranch that I was privileged to visit on a Palo Pinto County historic tour a few years back. So glad I was able to see the beautiful Belding-Gibson private ranch and it inspired me. WhooHoo!  


Thanks for stopping by!
 

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

DEBRA PARMLEY'S DANGEROUS TIES


My guest today is Debra Parmley.

Debra Parmley, Author
Caroline: Readers love to get to know authors. Please tell us about growing up.

Debra: I was born in Columbus, OH and adopted when I was six weeks old. I was raised in Springfield, OH and have one sister. Never a tomboy, I was the shy, quiet girl with her nose always in a book, who never got into trouble. Once my mother was called in for a parent/teacher meeting. I couldn't imagine what I had done wrong and neither could she. It turned out my crime was "reading too much." I sometimes wonder if that teacher is still alive and if she knows I am now writing books!

Caroline: I’ve never heard of a teacher complaining that a student read too much. I hope she knows that you’re an author! Who are your favorite authors and favorite genres?

Debra: Romance is my favorite genre, because a romance will always end with a happy ever after. Historical romance has been my favorite within that genre but fantasy is running a close second. I've also discovered the novels of Alice Hoffman and enjoy the fairy tale elements in her writing. I enjoy fairy tales and folk tales from different countries. There are so many authors I enjoy that the list could get quite long.

Caroline: We know so many authors, we have a long list of favorites, don’t we? When you’re not writing, what’s your favorite way to relax and recharge? Hobbies?

Debra: One of my hobbies is stepping into the role of a medieval lady and playing at reenactment events with the SCA. It is relaxing to be camping in a period tent (once the tent is up) and enjoying the great outdoors. I enjoy primitive archery and have learned to sew my own dresses. Beyond it being a great way to research for the medieval stories I've begun writing, it's simply great fun.

Caroline: Describe yourself in three or four words.

Debra: Imaginative, creative, traveler

Caroline: Would you like to share any guilty pleasures that feed your muse?

Debra: Everything feeds my muse, especially music, art, poetry and dance.

Caroline: How long have you been writing?

Debra: I was making up sing song rhymes as a young girl, so I suppose I've been writing stories in my head almost all my life, but never wrote anything down until high school. I first became serious about my writing while I was in college.

Caroline: Where do you prefer to write? Do you need quiet, music, solitude? PC or laptop?

Debra: My writing space has changed over the years. This desk, that one, this room, that one. I now write on my laptop only and my writing space is wherever I decide it is. I have written at the desk, the kitchen table, the couch, in bed, at the library, the airport, the hotel room, in the car. I have even written on a legal pad while camping in an old fort at a medieval re-enactment. I'm looking forward to taking my first train to Chicago next week for the RT convention and suspect 'on a train' will soon join the list of places where I have written. It's rare for me to listen to music, because music tends to bring out the dancer in me and if there are lyrics there's too much going on for me to write. I need solitude for brand new pages and to be swept away into the story, but in a pinch I can write on a story that's already moving well along if there are people nearby as long as no one speaks to me. And I can wear headphones if I must.

Caroline: I envy you the train ride. I love trains. Are you a plotter or a panzer?

Debra: Panzer all the way. I begin with the heroine and she lets me know where the story is going. Plotting feels too forced to me and the people in my stories don't conform well to them. I have had plotting stop me cold. So I'd rather not.

Caroline: Do you do your research before you begin a new project, or as you go along?

Debra: So many things interest me that it becomes a mixture of both.

Caroline: Tell us about your writing schedule. Do you set goals? Do you write daily?

Debra: Since I have a manuscript to finish revising by the beginning of May, my recent writing days have centered around revisions, reformatting and the internet obligations I have. I am a team coach in the Lucy Monroe Reader Fitness Challenge, which just started April 1st, so for the next twelve weeks I'll check in every day to see how my team is doing and cheer and encourage. I also have to workout at the gym and track my own eating and exercise habits each day. It's making for a full week. On the weekends I step away from revising and write new pages for other books I am working on. And once that manuscript is sent in to my editor I'll be full steam ahead on my newest story. Every day I do something towards my writing career, though what it is may change from day to day.

Caroline: Do you write full time or do you have a day job. If you have a day job, what is it?

Debra: Right now I am writing full time so it has become my day job and I go to it every single day. Even if just for an hour.

Caroline: Tell us something about yourself that might surprise readers.

Debra: Though I have a phobia of deep water and drowning, I've walked the plank off a pirate ship off the island of Grand Cayman. My husband can attest to this, even though he could not get our water camera ready in time to take a picture of it. That event even surprised my family. ;-)

Caroline: Oh, I also have a phobia of water and drowning. I did manage to pass my Red Cross swimming certification, but that was in a nice tame swimming pool. What is something unusual you learned while researching and writing this book?

Debra: I had the chance to learn how to shoot black powder pistols while researching and writing DANGEROUS TIES. The experience of shooting in the fields of Mississippi in the heat of August with the smoke from the guns, the noise, the weight of the pistol in my hand were quite memorable. I went home and immediately rewrote all the gun scenes. No amount of research can give you what experience does.

Caroline: What do you hope your writing brings to readers?

Debra: Both of my western historical romances have been about survivors. With each book, I hope my readers enjoy the read, that it transports them into the story, as all good fiction should do. But I also hope that the reader comes away with the sense that we can overcome the things which happen to us and that it is what comes from within us that defines who we are.

Caroline: What advice would you give to unpublished authors?

Debra: If writing brings you joy, then write and keep on writing. Hold fast to that joy because it will sustain you. If having your work published is your dream then pursue it with all you've got and take chances. Learn to listen. Listen to your story and your characters. Listen to honest critiques which address the page and then rewrite. Avoid negativity in yourselves and in others. Believe in your dreams and never give up.

Caroline: Tell us about your latest release.

Debra: DANGEROUS TIES is a western historical romance. Lillian's fiancé convinces the townsfolk to exchange their gold for his worthless bank notes. When he disappears, every eye turns to Lillian. Even her cousin Carl insists she knows where the gold is. Carl is deeply indebted to Kingston, owner of the saloon and small town criminal. When Nick discovers Lillian, she's strung up over a mineshaft and the rope is breaking.



DANGEROUS TIES Excerpt:

Nevada 1860

Pain erased all sense of time. Lillian didn't know how long she'd hung, her muscles exhausted from the strain, her mind full of warnings she was helpless to do anything about.

Her throat was raw from screaming before Grady had gagged her. Now the cloth gag stuck to her dry tongue. She squinted through tired eyes at the pail of water sitting by the edge of the mineshaft. She could look right down into it, the water taunting her with how good it looked, how it would taste cool and refreshing as it slid over her tongue, down her throat. It would soothe her throat if she could just reach it.

But there was no hope of that.

They'd tied her up and left her to die of thirst. Lillian closed her eyes.

No, don't look at it. Don't think of it. Think of something else.

Pain shot from her broken right toe up her ankle and leg. The scent of burnt flesh still filled her nostrils. He'd seared the brand across the top of her breast. Memory lodged in her body where pain radiated along with heat, echoes of his laughter still ringing in her ears.

A single tear slipped out and ran down her cheek.

It hadn't mattered what he did to her or how relentless they were. She still couldn't tell them where the money was. She couldn't tell because she didn't know. And no amount of torture could change that one fact.

Lillian squeezed her eyes tight and prayed her lie had bought enough time to get away. Though how she'd ever get out of this she didn't know.

She had to get away before he returned, angrier than ever because she'd lied.

Mr. Thomas Shelton, her former fiancé, was probably well to California by now, and rich as the cream Lillian used to pour into her tea every afternoon. He'd done more than abandon her along with the promises he'd made to her. He'd left her to face the anger of everyone in town who he had robbed.

Dear God, but she was thirsty. If she could only have a drop or two of water. Lillian kept her eyes closed so as not to look at the pail again.

Mr. Shelton, the president of Shelton Security Bank and a widower, had finally asked for her hand in marriage after months of waiting. She'd thought she'd close the dressmakers shop. Fact was, she wasn't making much money. It hadn't been going well. The women living in town or in the outlying areas did their own sewing and except for a few bridal gowns and mending the saloon women's clothing, Lillian had made no other sales. Nevada was nothing like New York, where a woman needed a new gown for an event or wanted one simply because it was the latest new fashion.

She'd been foolish to follow her cousin out west, even if he was her only living relative. Carl was nothing like the boy she'd grown up with. Letters could be so deceiving and she hadn't seen him since he was ten.

Yet he'd written to her, urging her to come out west after her parents died. Convinced her it was better to be with family. Promised to help her set up a dressmaker's shop now that she had to make a living. She'd always enjoyed sewing for herself and her ailing mother and the dresses she made always brought compliments.

She'd also been drawn in by the adventure of moving west. So she'd left the town she'd spent her entire life in.

Carl had been nice enough at first, helping her set up shop, introducing the townsfolk to her. But after the first few weeks, he spent all his time playing cards and running up debts in the saloon and the mercantile, then expected her to pay for them.

He seemed to have the idea that because he'd done this favor for her, she was indebted to him for life. It was a debt she could never repay.

Carl thought she owed him and he thought she had the money. Even her own cousin didn't believe her.

The pain in Lillian's shoulders from the pressure of her own weight pulling her down pushed away her thoughts. Her arms being stretched for so long made her jerk and flinch, though she knew it was futile to fight and she barely had any fight left. But she couldn't help pulling against the ropes even though it only made things worse.

Oh, what she'd give for someone to cut her down and a fast horse. She'd learn to ride, as if her life depended on it.


*****


Nick's horse made her way carefully down the mountain, his pack horse following along behind.

He wasn't far from town, and looking forward to a warm bath to wash away the dust of the trip and then a good hot meal. Maybe if he were lucky there'd be a warm and willing woman too. He'd been a long time without a woman.

It was then he saw her. Long golden hair, which caught the rays of the setting sun, lighting those tresses up like a flame. Red-gold hair swinging in a gust of wind.

What the hell?

He blinked twice to clear his head, in case he was seeing some fools gold of a dream.

But when he opened his eyes she was still there, bound by her wrists, suspended over a wide mineshaft; her bare feet tied together at the ankles and her long hair blowing in the wind.

Who had strung her up and why?

He pulled his rifle out and rode closer, his senses on alert. The area appeared to have been abandoned, but he knew you could never trust appearances.

The appaloosa lost her footing briefly and rocks rumbled down the mountain. He tensed, waiting for a sound or for the end of a rifle to appear, but all was silent and still.

He slowly rode closer. The only sounds on the mountain were the wind and the steadier footsteps of his horse.

By the time he reached the woman it was clear there was no one else about.

He swallowed hard, shifted in the saddle as his thoughts shifted.

Damn, she's beautiful. The knots are all wrong. Whoever tied her was no cowboy. If she struggled those knots will only tighten more, hurting her worse.

His fist tightened around the reins.

That's no way to treat a woman.

Her long hair blew in the breeze again. He rode around to the other side. He had yet to see her face.


*****


She heard horses through her dizziness, through a haze of pain. The horses' hooves steadily clopped closer and closer, bringing God only knew what. Her heart began to race.

Dear God, not them again. Please don't let it be them. Not again. I can't take much more. I don't want to die here, today.

The horses stopped and the only other sound was the wind. She could feel eyes upon her.

She didn't want to look, didn't want to open her eyes for fear of what she'd see.

But she forced herself to open them, fought the fear and the dizziness and for one brief moment her gaze met his.

Long enough to see his eyes were like summer lightning, intense and flashing with some dark emotion.

Then her world went black.


*****


Nick frowned when he saw the brand upon her breast.

Her blouse was torn, ripped down the side, exposing pale creamy skin so fair it clearly had never seen the sun. Newly drawn, in the shape of a curving "S" the scorched and bloody "S" was an abomination upon her breast, her skin.

The violence of such brutal torture hit him in the gut, taking him by surprise for he was not a soft man and he had seen much.

Who the hell had done this to her and why?

His gaze traveled up to the perfect oval of her face, eyelashes which rested against pale skin, golden hair trailing down unbound. Her pale cheeks streaked with tears.

They'd gagged her. She made no sound because she couldn't.

He clenched his fists. He wanted to hunt down the son of a bitch who'd done this to her and exact justice. He wanted to cut her down and take away the pain.

Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes to look straight at him, her eyes widening in alarm and pain. Fear flashed in her green eyes for one brief moment before she passed out completely limp.

"No. Damn it."

Rope burns marred her skin and the front of her skirt was ripped. Wind caught her skirt and it blew just enough for him to see the bruising on one leg.

He looked up at the rope, which was fraying above her bound wrists.

It wasn't going to hold. Need to get her down. Now.

"Son of a bitch."

That rope breaks and she'll fall to her death.

He gathered his lasso, looped it around and threw it once to test it.

One chance. It might be all she had.

Caroline: No, don't stop there! I have to know more. Where can readers find your books?

DANGEROUS TIES is available at Desert Breeze Publishing and online wherever ebooks are sold.
http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-299/Dangerous-Ties/Detail.bok

A DESPERATE JOURNEY is available at Samhain Publishing and wherever books are sold
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/debra-parmley-pa-236.html?PHPSESSID=537a71a8cd6312de0d9f38a3bac7ccd9

Signed copies are available at Burkes Books, my local indie in Memphis, TN
http://www.burkesbooks.com/shop/burkes/resort/title/topic1%2Ctopic2%2Ctopic3%2Ctopic4%2Ctopic5%2Ctopic6/Signed%20Books.html

Caroline: Anything else you’d like readers to know? How can readers learn more about you?

Debra: I'll be in Chicago next week at the Romantic Times Booklovers Convention. I love to meet readers so, if you are attending, be sure to come up and say hello and get your bingo card signed! Desert Breeze Publishing is giving away an eBook reader at the convention and the way to win is to get each of the Desert Breeze authors to sign your card. I'm so excited about the convention. It's going to be such fun!

I'm also a team captain in the Lucy Monroe Reader Fitness Challenge which runs from April 1st to June. Every Friday I'll be posting fitness tips on my blog, which lives on the home page of my website.
http://www.debraparmley.com


Readers can also find me on facebook
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Debra-Parmley/19909053561
And Twitter

Thank you for sharing with us today, Debra.


Readers, Debra and I are trading blogs today, so please surf over to read my interview at her site, www.debraparmley.com

Thanks for stopping by!

Monday, April 02, 2012

REVIEW OF MUCH ADO ABOUT MADAMS






MUCH ADO ABOUT MADAMS (Hearts of Owyhee)

By Jacquie Rogers
Melange Publishing

Lucinda Sharpe has spent ten years overcoming her past. Her former guardian, the not-so-Reverend Hundall, called her “the daughter of Satan.” As a recent graduate of Miss Hattie’s School for the Refinement of Young Ladies, Lucinda has escaped the Hundalls and her past to begin her career as a schoolteacher. What a shock when she arrives in Dickshooter, Idaho Territory and meets her pupils. Oh, my! The students aren’t scrubbed and darling children; they’re fairly shabby prostitutes.

Lucinda is forced to remain in the Comfort Palace...um, hotel until the next stage. In the meantime, she meets the owner, Reese McAdams. He is nothing like she expected, and she is amazed she almost likes him. Before she can board the next stagecoach out of what passes for a town, the Comfort Palace women convince Lucinda to remain and teach them to read and write so they can obtain better jobs. Her agreement sets in motion another wonderful story by Jacquie Rogers. Although part of the Hearts of Owyhee series, MUCH ADO ABOUT MADAMS initiates the Soiled Dove mini-series featuring Fannie and the other ladies from the Comfort Palace. I was pleased that the Gardner sisters from MUCH ADO ABOUT MARSHALS made an appearance, although their time was too short. (I hope for a book about banker, Iris Gardner, in the future.) In the meantime, Jacquie Rogers’ eagerly awaited next release will be MUCH ADO ABOUT MAVERICKS.

Set in 1882 Owyhee County, Idaho, MUCH ADO ABOUT MADAMS is a trmenbous bargain at only 99 cents on Amazon Kindle at

http://www.amazon.com/About-Madams-Hearts-Owyhee-ebook/dp/B007HRTQ0O/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1333224438&sr=1-1

I am supposed to say that I received this book from the author for my unbiased review. Believe me, I would have purchased this book had Jackie Rogers not given it to me! She is one of my favorite authors.

                                             ABOUT THE AUTHOR


JACQUIE ROGERS, AUTHOR

Here is Jacquie Rogers' bio from her website www.jacquierogers.com. You will quickly see how funny she is:

My parents were poor but honest sharecroppers …


Okay, perhaps that's stretching the truth a little, but I come from a long line of no-holds-barred storytellers, so I like to exaggerate. Worse yet, I'm a writer, and writers do tend to get carried away. My parents actually owned a dairy farm in Owyhee County, Idaho, near Homedale and I grew up milking cows, breaking ice on the calves' water troughs and checking the bottoms of my shoes before entering the house. While I don't miss the frigid Idaho winters, I do recall those soulful calf eyes with fondness. Nowadays, the only soulful eyes I see are those of my husband when he pokes his head in my office for the tenth time and asks me when I'm going to fix dinner.

Still, those early farm days gave me a solid grounding in Real Life and provided me with endless fodder for my stories. Those days seem so bucolic now. Back then, I was a member of the Homedale Rod & Gun Club, Stateline Grange, and Sage Creek 4-H. I showed livestock, was the county fair queen, and garnered the title of girl's champion in the small bore rifle competition. (Now there's a scary combination!) I rode my horses to hell and back, with special emphasis on riding into the sunset while harmonica music played in the background.

Farm Girl Enters Urban World

But there came a time when this farm girl hankered for more than practicing her county fair queen wave (elbow-elbow-wrist-wrist) and scraping cow pats off her shoes. For one thing, I couldn't get a date--nobody wanted to go out with a tiara-wearing sharpshooter who wore stinky shoes. So I put away my tiara and became a professional photographer, which served me well during my college days.

I also had a stint as deli manager at Kmart, which became something of a rite of passage for me. You meet the strangest people in a Kmart. After the Kmart stint, I figured I could handle anything, even politicians. Due to my deep familiarity with bulls**t (animal excrement? animal leavings? cow doody?), I made the logical move up to political campaign manager. I was a natural at it, which surprised no one, especially my family. I can sling it with the best of them.

And then came my tenure as accounts receivable manager at the Boise State University Bookstore. It was like hiring an alcoholic to work in a liquor store. I had to enroll in a 12-step program when I quit that job. (Hello. My name is Jacquie and I'm a bookaholic.)

Cupid Strikes

And then I fell in love. Mark had never seen my tiara and he didn't know I could plug the fringe off a squirrel tail at fifty yards with a rifle. He did know about my days as a political campaign manager, but like he said, nobody's perfect. We got married and honeymooned in Ketchum, Idaho. We were young and in love and playful. One day, we went down to the swimming pool of our honeymoon hotel. While I futzed around locating a lawn chair and folding my towel and straightening my bathing suit, Mark jumped into the pool. I felt my way to the pool without my glasses a short while later and spotted Mark's bald head at the other end. Submerging myself, I swam up behind him sneaky-like. Since we were the only ones in the pool, I reached down there and gave him a friendly little squeeze, as newly married couples are wont to do. The reaction I got was better than I could ever have expected, and there was only one tiny problem that ruined the whole effect: it wasn't Mark.

That scene will likely end up in one of my books, as soon as I fully recover from the mortification. Which will be in about 100 years.

Parenting, Programming, and Penning (the writing kind, not the cattle kind)

We moved to Seattle and I became a programmer, then started a software company (no, not that software company!). And like most new business owners, I made a few mistakes now and then. I call them my $15,000 stapler mistakes (read undercharged a job). Most business proprietors who've been in business for any length of time eventually buy a $15,000 stapler. Still, it was the good life.

I joined Romance Writers of America and the local RWA chapter. Because I didn't know any better, I allowed myself to be elected president of the Greater Seattle RWA chapter. I was in it up to my eyebrows. After numerous writing conferences, I thought I knew it all, and entered some writing contests.

I found out I didn't know it all.

Back to the drawing board! More conferences, more workshops, more how-to books, more delving into the craft of writing. I must have been doing something right, because people started asking me to do workshops. Now I do writing workshops and teach on-line writing courses.

During all this, I wrote and wrote. I did westerns. And paranormals. And futuristics. And lots and lots of humor. I even, God forbid, started blogging. http://keelysfaerygoodadvice.blogspot.com

I Become a Writer

So, how did I start writing? I got sick. So sick that I lay in bed for two months with pneumonia, unable to do anything but read. Which was a good thing, since we had a bazillion books. In fact, floor to ceiling bookcases filled to overflowing, with stacks of books on the floor in front of the bookcases. I read them all, and then there was nothing left to read.

My daughter, an avid Romance reader, tried to get me to read one of her books. I refused. She was adamant. To get her to stop yammering, I finally broke down and read a Romance. It was awful. My daughter told me you couldn't judge an entire genre by one book, and gave me another book to read. It was Kathleen Eagle's FIRE AND RAIN, and I loved it. In fact, I loved it so much I went on to read 100 more Romances while I recuperated.

Light My Fire

Those books struck a spark in me. I kept getting ideas for stories. Scenarios blipped through the jellied mass in my head. Voices began talking in my ear. Characters leapt full blown into existence and followed me around the house, nagging me to put them into a book. People were making love in my bed, taking bubble baths in my bathtub, drinking wine in front of the fireplace I didn't have. Handsome men walked out of the bathroom with just a towel around their hips. Dainty heroines with secret babies baked chocolate chip cookies in my kitchen and took them to the cute guy next doors. Bronc busters moseyed into the living room chewing on a piece of straw and oozing boyish charm. Rain-drenched heroines appeared on my doorstep like adorable waifs, unable to find their way home because they had amnesia. I couldn't stand it. I wrote a book about a heroine waif who baked cookies for her neighbor who was a bronc buster hiding out from the law after being falsely accused of a heinous crime.

When I wrote The End, you could hear members of my family thudding to the ground from Seattle, Washington to Homedale, Idaho. My mom had always wanted me to be a writer. Naturally, I immediately swore I'd never do anything that smacked of writing. Besides, it was against my religion to finish a job if I wasn't being paid to do it. Yet despite it all, I wrote a book. And then another. And another. And now, like it or not. I am a published writer.

Mom's gone now, yet I can't help but wonder sometimes if she wasn't the one responsible for peopling my house with strangers who kept nagging at me to write their stories. I suspect she is, and I also suspect she's having the last laugh.


See, I told you Jacquie Rogers is funny, didn't I? She can't help herself. You can read her blog at Romancing the West, http://romancingthewest.blogspot.com

Thanks for stopping by!

Friday, March 30, 2012

COLLAGING YOUR FEARS AWAY WITH MAGGIE


By Maggie Toussaint

Maggie Toussaint
“I’m not brave.” There. I’ve said it. Out loud. Sure, I take risks with my books, but me, Maggie Tousssaint, I’m a big ole chicken. But that very fear turned out to be the saving grace for Murder in the Buff.

When I had a hard time breaking into publishing with conventional mysteries, I wondered if my subject material was too tame. How could I think outside of the box? How could I challenge myself as a writer and a person?

As I cast about for ideas, I remembered there was a naturalist colony in the woods of my old stomping grounds. Most of us locals debated for hours on end – what were they doing in there with all the bugs, ticks, snakes, and buzzards? I’ll admit my curiosity level rocketed off the chart.

Uh oh. A puzzle. I love puzzles. The idea of writing about a nudist colony tantalized me. And it scared me half to death. Could I do it? How would I do it? Would I have to do onsite research?

That idea nearly gave me heart arrythmia. But it got me thinking. If everyone was naked, where would they hide the murder weapon? Strangers would stand out, so it would have to be someone known to the victim. Hmm. I liked this idea more and more.

But. I did not want to see naked strangers. So, I did two things that really helped me. I talked to a former classmate of mine who’d been in there, and her eyewitness account was invaluable. And I decided to create a collage to use as a writing focal point.

I collected images of people, of items I thought would be related to the story. This wasn’t hard for clothed people. But it was increasingly difficult for the naked people. I started looking for images of people that looked more free-spirited or mean or conniving. I stumbled onto an article about naked grannies in England that gave me hope for my project. I found several images in magazines of naked people with the sexual parts out of eyesight through careful positioning.

I needed images that were provocative without being lewd. Granted, “racy” is in the eye of the beholder, but I didn’t need to see EVERYTHING. That’s what my imagination is for.

I labeled everyone on the collage, and I propped the final posterboard on the wall behind my computer monitor. Instant centering during my writing phase.

The final project turned out great, but it needed a special publisher to allow it to shine. Muse It Up took a chance on MURDER IN THE BUFF, and I’m so glad they did.

Here’s the blurb for MURDER IN THE BUFF:

Reporter Molly Darter’s world is crashing around her. Her cheating husband and trashy sister wrecked her marriage, and now she has to collect a nudist’s obituary to keep her job. The nudists convince Molly their friend was murdered. Molly scoffs until explicit pictures of the nudist with town leaders and her father surface. Family loyalty kicks in, and she hunts for the killer in earnest to save her dad.

Who killed Barbara Jean? Was it the judge, the preacher, or the banker? Or was the killer someone she knew intimately? Only one thing’s for certain. The killer is watching every move Molly makes.



MURDER IN THE BUFF is available at: Muse It Up Publishing and Amazon.
Maggie Toussaint
www.maggietoussaint.com


Thanks to Maggie for sharing with us today. For those of you who missed my review of her fun mystery, MURDER IN THE BUFF, please go to the post for March 14th at
http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com/2012/03/review-of-murder-in-buff.html

Thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

REVIEW OF DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON



I thought it impossible, but Keta Diablo has surpassed HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN with the sequel, DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON. What a story!


Lauren McCain Gatlin is married to Brand Gatlin, but in love with his brother Creed. She married Brand when she learned she was pregnant with Creed’s child after Creed had left to fight in the Civil War. Through a terrifying ordeal in the first book, Lauren found her twin after being separated at birth. The midwife who delivered the twin girls told the McCain parents that only one twin lived, and kidnapped Sage McCain.

Winapaya may have
resembled Winnebego
Chief Ha-Zah-Zach-Kah
In the meantime, Sage married to Winapaya, from the peaceful Winnebago tribe associated with the more ferocious Sioux. Sage and Winapaya have two children and another on the way.


Lauren, her father, and her son Finn live with her Aunt Estelle and their servants. Sage and Winapaya live not too far away with the man Sage thought of as her Norwegian grandfather, Peter Pa. Lauren’s mother-in-law Polly Gatlin lives nearby also. No, no, don't be confused; when you read the book it all falls into place

The initial problem is that Brand is missing and presumed dead in the Sioux uprising that killed so many of Lauren's family and friends near New Ulm months ago. But Brand’s body has not been found. Lauren and her mother-in-law cannot give up hope that Brand is alive. I dare not reveal more to you for fear of spoiling your pleasure when you read this book. Let me assure you there are many surprises in store for readers.

Set in Minnesota in 1862, this riveting story is filled with beautiful imagery and vivid descriptions. Ms Diablo obviously immersed herself deeply into research for her work, and it rings true to the reader. I loved the characterizations, which ranged from humorous, stiff-necked, and honorable to evil. I also cheered for the mystical wolf. One of the characters is Crooked Back, a Winnebago woman healer who helps Sage. To show she has no fear of death, she chants:

I am part of the earth and stars
And the gusts of far and near
Of lush valleys and snow-crested mountains
Of flora, and fauna, and deer.


Not being a student of the Sioux, I don’t know if that is an authentic chant or not, but it certainly seems so in context of the book. In fact, everything regarding pioneer life, the Sioux, and the era rings authentic.


Although you will enjoy this stand alone book without reading the first book, the flow is so beautiful if you have begun with HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN and follow with DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON.


They are available from Amazon here:


HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN:
http://www.amazon.com/Holding-on-to-Heaven-ebook/dp/B0073TYAKC/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332889207&sr=1-7


DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON:

http://www.amazon.com/Dark-NIght-Moon-ebook/dp/B006ZRZ5FM/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332889165&sr=1-4


If you missed Monday’s post, please scroll down and read about author Keta Diablo.


Please return Friday or this weekend for a visit with another fine author, Maggie Toussaint.

I'm Slinging Words with Joan Reeves at http://slingwords.blogspot.com/ Come by if you can.

Thanks for stopping by!


Monday, March 26, 2012

WELCOME KETA DIABLO!

Why I wrote HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN . . .


Hi everyone, and thank you so much for stopping by Caroline’s wonderful site.

Some readers have asked me why I wrote HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN so I thought I’d speak to that here. I’ve always loved history about the Civil War – the battles, the thousands of lives lost and the boundaries that were often crossed when family members choose sides. It wasn’t uncommon to find cousin fighting against cousin or neighbor against neighbor. The Civil War was a deeply personal war for many, and yet in the end, many didn’t know why they were fighting. I can’t think of anything more horrible than to have our country divided over ideals, beliefs or principles to the point we take up arms against our brethren.

Imagine drawing a line across the United States – the top half of the states fight for one side and the bottom for the other. And suppose you had family down in Texas when you live in Wisconsin? I’m sure you can see what the Civil War was one of our darkest times in history.

HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN is, in essence, about a woman named Lauren McCain who was raised in the deep South and moves to the North just before the war broke out. Her loyalties are divided. She’s fallen in love with a Northerner, carries his child, and yet her father and family hail from North Carolina. Now, toss in the Dakota Sioux uprising in Minnesota at the same time and the entire country is ablaze with fire and terror.

HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN is an emotional story about betrayal, grief, fate and abiding passion. If you like reading about the Civil War, I think you’ll love the story of brothers who love the same woman and yet, love each other too. Oh, yes, and there’s a few twists and turns in the story. There is a happily-for-now ending, but here’s the good news: DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON, the sequel to HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN was released! And I promise there will be a happily-ever-after for all.

May you all have a blessed week and many intriguing reads.


Buy link for HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN: http://amzn.to/v03tFa






Buy link for DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON:


http://www.amazon.com/ketadiablo/e/B002BODURI

About DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON, the sequel to HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN.

Creed Gatlin flees to Arizona intent on eradicating the haunting memories of his brother’s wife. His brother Brand, presumed dead, resurfaces after a long absence and with his re-emergence, the destinies of those he loves is altered forever.

In a land rife with war and danger, Sage must travel to the village of her husband’s People. There, she is reunited with Crooked Back, the ancient healer. One the long trek back to Full Circle, devious plots are underfoot and peril lurks around every corner for Sage, Lauren and Peter Pa.


DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON will take you on an unforgettable journey of war, violence, overwhelming grief, and finally, compassion and love.


~ ~ ~ ~


About Keta Diablo:

Keta Diablo, Author
Keta is a multi-published author of paranormal, historical and occasionally gay fiction (paranormal). In 2009, her erotic romance DECADENT DECEPTIONS was a finalist in the RWA Molly contest. In 2010, Keta's entry Phoenix Rising finaled in the Scarlet Boa contest and in 2011 Keta's acclaimed paranormal shifter, WHERE THE RAIN IS MADE, was nominated by Authors After Dark for a BOOKIE AWARD AND by Deep In The Heart of Romance for BEST ROMANCE OF THE YEAR. Many of her books have won numerous awards: Top Reviewer's Pick, Recommended Read and Best Book of the Month.

If you'd like to know more about Keta and her latest releases, she haunts the Net here:

Keta's Keep Blog, http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com


Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ketadiablo


Facebook Fan page: http://www.facebook.com/KetaDiablo.Author
Keta, thanks for sharing with us today! Readers, on Wednesday, I'll post my review of DARK NIGHT OF THE MOON. Beware! Aftert I read it, I had to also get HOLDING ON TO HEAVEN.

Thanks for stopping by!

Friday, March 23, 2012

WELCOME REGAN BLACK

Regan Black, Author

Before I turn the blog over to Regan Black, please let me congratulate B.J., whose comment receives a copy of HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME. I'll be emailing BJ with her download later today. Now, to Regan Black:


Thanks so much for having me here today, Caroline!

THE MATCHMAKER’S MARK came about for a couple of reasons. First, I needed a break from the darker Shadows of Justice novels. I love my 2096 Chicago and the characters in that series are like family, but it can get a little tiring saving the world from evil plots day in and day out. So I gave both that cast and myself a little breather. And secondly, my pals at the local retired greyhound group were encouraging me to get a greyhound into one of my novels. That happened a bit differently than I expected, but it was tons of fun.

Of course, being me, there had to be a paranormal element too, but it has a fun feel in this series. Here's the quick overview: When you're 'more' than human, finding your soulmate isn't as easy as answering a few questions online. It's best to track down Campbell Consulting, a.k.a. the Matchmaker.

In Charleston, South Carolina half-elf Lily has a birthmark her elders vow is a mystical promise of true love. So far she's yet to encounter Mr. Right in either the elf or human realms.

Dare, a wood elf, has led the Matchmaker's security team for years. In town on a simple errand, when the Matchmaker disappears his future is turned inside out.

And Amy Campbell is a completely human English professor about to discover the true magic of the family business...

My marketing team and I joked that I should use the name Regan Gray on these books, because they were so much different than the other series.


Unitarian Church Yard
Charleston, S.C.
Charleston is a beautiful city with such a diverse and wonderful history, it seemed like a natural setting for a more lighthearted and romantic story. I've been on several tours since we moved to the area and studying the past just seems to set my imagination on fire, even when I'm working on a contemporary storyline like THE MATCHMAKER'S MARK. Planting Lily's fictional flower shop on King Street worked well because that meant they were close to one of my favorite restaurants on the same street. It absolutely thrills me when someone who lives here, or who's been to Charleston, recognizes that restaurant. In real life it's Juanita Greenberg's, so if you get to the area and are in the mood for amazing Mexican food - be sure to stop in.

Plus, Charleston has its share of ghosts and legends. In THE MATCHMAKER'S MARK, Amy - in one of her first acts as the Matchmaker - converses with the Lady who haunts the Unitarian Churchyard. That ghost is considered the most frequently sighted in the city and I guarantee you, whether you see her or not, the Unitarian Churchyard is spooky with a capital "spook" at night. Especially with an excellent guide telling you tales...



In the following excerpt from THE MATCHMAKER’S MARK, Amy, her greyhound, and Dare, the bodyguard for the former Matchmaker, are taking a rest in the Unitarian Churchyard:



"Hold Guinness' leash, please."


She pushed it into his hand and he opened his eyes to a scene straight from one of Camille's stories.


His years in her service meant many of the nights they only had each other for conversation and they'd swapped tales of family and legends. Dare had never seen spirit magic first hand, but he recognized it now. Amy had moved from his side and stood surrounded by pale figures, translucent and lit from within.


Ghosts.


As he watched, her lips and hands moved as if she was conversing with old friends, but no sound reached his ears.


His breath backed up in his chest as the air snapped cold and brittle around him. The tree, with its sturdy, reassuring presence, the relaxed dog at his side, and his dedication to Camille kept him from melting into the bark. Escape wasn't appropriate, but neither was defense. Amy didn't seem to be in any trouble, but he wasn't sure he'd know if she were.


He shifted, became the target of a particularly intimidating ghostly gaze and decided to stay put while his mind puzzled out how to get her out of here.


Amy listened with her heart more than her ears, and ignored the cold air turning her every exhalation into a small cloud. She accepted she was talking with the dead, though this sort of communication wasn't precisely verbal.


But they were communicating.


She couldn't label the act, couldn't point to the time when she'd learned how to do whatever it was she was doing. At the moment she just listened, which seemed to be the primary concern of the ghosts surrounding her.


They knew they were dead, a fact which busted a great many myths Hollywood purported. Three out of the four ghosts didn't even mind the current suspended existence. The last one to join the conversation was most irritable with his family for ignoring his demise.


She wasn't sure what she could possibly do to help him, so she let him rant for a bit before another member of the group cut him off.


"That is enough. I must speak!" The female ghost was elegantly attired and her eyes were direct and a bit disapproving. Her statement earned her no respect.


"It's always about you," the others grumbled unanimously as they drifted their separate ways.


But in Amy's heart, the source of her connection to them, she felt such sudden, deep longing she clutched her chest. She saw it all, the woman alive and so in love, then crushed and devastated when her husband was lost to her.


"He should be here," the woman said. "He should be here with me."


The woman's loneliness was a tangible force winding through the air, raising goose bumps on Amy's skin. Instinctively, she reached out, but something bumped her legs – Guinness – and Dare hooked her with an around her waist.


"No!" Amy struggled, but couldn't twist free. She knew what the ghost needed. She could help if Dare would just let her do it.


With a look of utter contempt, the ghost moved away, skirts swirling behind her as she moved through headstones, iron, and air with equal ease.


Amy slumped, lurching free when Dare's arm went slack.


"Here!" It took her longer as she was flesh and blood, but she navigated the obstacles in the dark, stopping near the obelisk where the elegant ghost had disappeared. She extended her hand once more. "I can show you where he waits."


She heard Dare's footsteps on the path and willed the ghost to act quickly.


Her ears buzzed as ghostly fingertips brushed her own in an ethereal touch totally absent of heat. In that odd connection, she spoke with images more than words, so the two could be united at last. An immense love buoyed her heart as the tiniest bit of relief rippled out of her like a pebble dropped in a pond.


"Godspeed," she whispered into the peaceful stillness in the air.

Dare felt something too. Something closer to rage than peace, but he couldn't put it into words. The warmth and comfort he'd enjoyed in this churchyard had turned to cold ash. She'd endangered herself, endangered an entire balancing force of the non-human realms. For what? A ghost?


"What was that?" he demanded, his brutal voice shattering the quiet around her.


"Helping." Amy sighed and turned, snapping her fingers for the greyhound's attention. Her expression: part satisfaction, part serenity, and all wistful, took the leading edge off his anger.


"You can't help all of them. It's best to stick with the ones still living. She had a place here."


"The wrong place. She and her love, her husband were an odd, but perfect match. She came South with him, to a life as foreign to her as another country. He left, had to leave her for some business.


"They died on the same day. The same day, Dare! I'm not sure how I know, but they were so close, so perfect together. They were two halves of one whole that neither could live – literally – without the other. Here, alone, she was heartbroken. I could fix it."


"They had their chance in life."


"So they don't deserve a blissful eternity in death?" She tsked at him. "His body has never been returned here to the family plot. I know that much from the tour guides. But as the 'Matchmaker'," she used air quotes, "I felt how he pines for her too.”


"I could fix it, Dare," she repeated, winding down. "They were the perfect love match. Isn't that what the Matchmaker's all about?"


Not even close.



You can pick up THE MATCHMAKER'S MARK at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or your favorite ebook retailer. I'm thrilled to say THE MATCHMAKER'S CURSE, book two in the series, is due out at the end of April. In the meantime, you can read more about this series and my other books at www.ReganBlack.com. We have an active community there through my monthly newsletter and on my Facebook fan page. I hope you'll join the fun.

Regan Black is dedicated to guiding paranormal romance readers through action packed stories to the best happily ever after endings so you can savor a fantastic escape from the daily grind. "My mission is to deliver stories from the heart, full of unforgettable, passionate characters who know what they want and are willing to risk it all to reach the goal." A recipient of a 2011 Reviewer's Choice award from the Paranormal Romance Guild, she is also the author of the Shadows of Justice series (JUSTICE INCARNATE, INVASIONS OF JUSTICE, VEIL OF JUSTICE, TRACKING SHADOWS, SHADOWS TO LIGHT) as well as the non-fiction ADOPT A GREYHOUND GUIDE, GOAL SETTING FOR WRITERS, and several short stories. She lives in South Carolina with her family and their domestic petting 'zoo' starring three retired greyhounds, two manipulative cats, and three quirky finches.



Regan, thanks for sharing THE MATCHMAKER'S MARK with us. I've added it to my Kindle and look forward to next month's release of THE MATCHMAKER'S CURSE.

Readers, thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

HOW AUTHORS ADD POWER TO THEIR WRITING


The Lucky Leprechaun Hop is in its final days. Check out the over 200 blogs here: http://iamareadernotawriter.blogspot.com Kathy and her cosponsor Books Complete Me (Author Cindy Thomas' blog) each have a list of the participating blogs. Leave your email in your comment for a chance to win a copy of my sweet contemporary HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME. A follow counts as a second entry but is not necessary. Now to my scheduled post:

                HOW AUTHORS ADD POWER TO THEIR WRITING


Are there authors you read simply for the beautifully expressive way they write? There are numerous authors I turn to for inspiration. One of the reasons for their impact is they use active verbs, unique metaphors, and nouns that paint word pictures. They never tell, never use clichés; instead, they show so well we drink in their pages.

Each writer knows to avoid weak words: felt, just, simply, etc. But avoiding those words is not enough, authors are forced to come up with dynamic ways to express our character’s thoughts and feelings so people will read and reread our books.

For instance, one might write: "The Gothic Revival house had been opulent at one time, but now displayed its age."

Sarah Addison Allen in THE GIRL WHO CHASED THE MOON wrote:

“The house looked nothing like the rest of the houses in the neighborhood.
It had probably been an opulent white at one time, but now it was gray, and its Gothic Revival pointed-arch windows were dusty and opaque. It was outrageously flaunting its age, spitting paint chips and old roofing shingles into the yard.”

One could write: "Dust motes danced in the dwindling sunlight."

Sarah Addison Allen wrote: “No lights were on, but the last sunlight of the day was coughing through the dining room windows, directly to her left.”

Can’t you picture the sunlight streaming in through a window like someone’s mouth coughing little particles of dust motes into the room? Not a pretty picture perhaps, but the allusion is perfect in the book.

Has stress ever left you disoriented or frozen? Here is Lori Wilde’s description of her heroine’s reaction in ALL OF ME:

“’Yes,’ Jillian said, but she could barely hear herself. She was a bright kite who’d broken loose from its tether, flying high into a cloudless blue sky. Up, up, and away, higher and higher, smaller and smaller. Soon she would disappear, a speck in the sky. What was happening to her?”

Another writer whose descriptions I love is Loretta Chase. Here are the descriptions of the hero and heroine from LORD PERFECT, one of my favorite of Ms Chase’s books:

The artist heroine, Bathsheba Wingate, watches the hero in the book’s opening. The setting is a London museum and the hero is Benedict Carsington, Viscount Rathbourne, heir to the Earl of Hargate.

"He leant against the window frame, offering those within the exhibition hall a fine rear view of a long, well-proportioned frame, expensively garbed. He seemed to have his arms folded and his attention upon the window, though the thick glass could show him no more than a blurred image of Picadilly.

It was clear in any case that the exhibition within—of the marvels Giovanni Belzoni had discovered in Egypt—had failed to hold his interest.

The woman surreptitiously studying him decided he would make the perfect model of the bored aristocrat

Supremely assured. Perfectly poised. Immaculately dressed. Tall. Dark.

He turned his head, presenting the expected patrician profile.

It wasn’t what she expected.

She couldn’t breathe."

The author immediately skips a space and opens in the hero’s POV. From the same book, but a few pages later, Loretta uses the hero’s POV to describe the heroine.

"She was the sort of woman who made accidents happen, simply by crossing the street.

She was the sort of woman who ought to be preceded by warning signs.

From a distance, she was breathtaking.

Now she stood within easy reach.

And now . . .

Once, in the course of a youthful prank, Benedict had fallen off a roof, and briefly lost consciousness.

Now, as he fell off something and into eyes like an indigo sea, he lost consciousness. The world went away, his brain went away, and only the vision remained, of pearly skin and ripe plum lips, of the fathomless sea in which he was drowning . . . and then a pink like a sunrise glowing upon finely sculpted cheekbones.

A blush. She was blushing.

His brain staggered back."

I don’t know about you, but I find those descriptions highly satisfying.

In my latest work, BRAZOS BRIDE: Men of Stone Mountain Book One, I struggled with making the three Stone brothers’ dialogue distinctive. They are similar in appearance and share a close bond. Naturally, their speech is similar. But each needed a distinctive speech pattern so the reader could recognize the speaker without dialogue tags. I include action or word tags, but the point is to make the dialogue so specific that a tag is not necessary. Since each is so similar, I don't believe I succeeded, but I love these brothers! Each is a terrific hero. I'm now at work on the second of the Men of Stone Mountain trilogy, HIGH STAKES BRIDE. Writing books that please me is a wonderful job. Aren't I lucky?

I hope you will read BRAZOS BRIDE and will find the dialogue (and the entire book) satisfies you. To assist you (aren’t I kind?) I've priced BRAZOS BRIDE at only 99 cents and here’s the buy link:
http://www.amazon.com/Brazos-Bride-Stone-Mountain-ebook/dp/B007HS10SY/ref=sr_1_14?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1332254739&sr=1-14


Please return on Friday when Regan Black will be my guest. I’ll also announce my winner of HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME for the Lucky Leprechaun Giveaway Hop.

Thanks for stopping by!