An Author's Tale

Blood On The Feather by Melinda Elmore

2011-09-14T00:27:00.000-07:00

Iwanted to share with you today a little about myself and why I write the genreI do. I have lived in Arizona and Tennessee, but Arizona is my home. Ihave discovered wealth is not measured in how much money you have but in howmuch love you share.

Ihave been happily married to my wonderful husband, Tom for 24 years, and we havetwo remarkable children, Shaelee and Erik.

Asa young child, I loved reading and writing. Many nights I would wrap up ina blanket, and daydream while I turned the exciting pages of a book. Thebooks would take me to many places, but mostly to the1800’s where I lived with the American Indian. I loved the idea of goingfrom the normal world in which I lived, then instantly I would be taken to aplace far away.

Tomy surprise, I started writing and creating my very own world. A placewhere I could go and lose myself with just a pen and paper.

Igrew up with the fascination of the American Indian. My love for them grewby leaps and bounds as I read about them from my history book. I wanted toshow, in my writings, of the proud people that the American Indians trulyare. They show honor and respect for all living things. If I cancapture just a small portion of that in my writings then that would be anadded bonus for me.

NativeAmerican mystery and romance is my passion. I hope to reveal in my booksthe uniqueness of the American Indian. I feel truly blessed to tryand reveal how special the American Indians truly are.

Thelove of my family and the love for the American Indian have become focal pointsin my stories. I will do my best for both of them.

Isincerely pray readers enjoy the characters that I bring to life on eachturning page!!!!

I have received Cambridge Who’s Who twice,and I have published numerous articles in newspapers. I am a 911 dispatcher,which I truly love. My family is my life and when I am not writing, working, orsleeping, I spend my time with them.

Well I hope you have learned some thingsabout me and one special commenter will receive an autographed copy of my newbook, Blood on the Feather.

Available 9/15/2011

Buy Here

BLOOD ON THE FEATHER by Melinda Elmore quickly pulls youinto this Native American mystery. Archeologist DeShay Graywater finds muchmore than she is looking for on a dig on Lakota Sioux land. When detective TJHawke and FBI agent Melina Wolfe team up to investigate the murder of a youngSioux woman, much more than the case, and their shared past, present problems.

Adventure, Nativeculture, and mystery combine in Blood On The Feather to make this a romanticthriller that keeps you on the edge of your seat and your heart pounding.

Contact Melinda:

Website

Facebook

Myspace

Blog

E-mail

It's A Balancing Act by Lynn Reynolds

2011-07-01T00:16:00.000-07:00

Hello, everyone, and thanks to Rie forhaving me here today. Rie has asked me to write about balancing real life withonline life. That would be a good topic if only I had figured out how to do it!

Just today I decided that I would spendmore time doing “real writing” (by which I mean books, articles and the like)and less time goofing off online (by which I mean obsessively commenting oneveryone’s status at Facebook). I read about a great new program designed tolock you out of social networking websites for several hours. You set a timerin the program, and until the timer expires, the program won’t let you checkyour email or Facebook or YouTube or (if you get truly desperate) MySpace. Whatgrand visions I had of how much I would accomplish today!

As you probably can guess, the programdidn’t work – or it worked, but not as advertised. Every five minutes withoutfail, it kept requiring me to re-enter an administrator password. The only wayto shut the program timer down once it’s running is to completely shut off thecomputer. But then it froze, something Macs almost never do, and I couldn’teven get it to shut down. Sigh. When I finally shut it down and restarted, thefirst thing I did was – you guessed it – delete that brilliant new program. Iprobably would’ve saved more time if I’d just checked everyone’s status atFacebook like I usually do.

My point here – and I do have one – isthat no one can really help you figure out how to separate online from reallife. I’m not sure the two things are separate anymore. For example, Irarely talk to anyone on the phone these days. Most friends contact me throughFacebook, and business associates contact me via email. For good or ill, wewill all have to learn how to integrate our real life with our online life.

For me, the simplest solution has provento be the best one when it comes to achieving balance. I set myself a modestgoal of 1,000 words a day on weekdays. Once I write that many words, I can bedone. If I’m on a roll, sometimes I’ll write more; if it’s a rough day, Istruggle to get that many on paper – and I make sure not to re-read them, lestI despair and tear them all up. Lately, I’ve had a lot of rough days, but thesethings go in cycles. The important thing is to keep writing, and to do thatfirst – before going off to check everyone’s status or to visit blogs -- evendelightful ones like this one!

I think it’s also important to make timefor physical activity. It doesn’t have to be a strenuous workout. A lot of thetime, a short walk around the neighborhood can really help clear my mind andre-invigorate me.

It’s probably also a good idea to set atime limit for when to get off. I definitely try to get off the computer bysupper time, so that I’m not ignoring my own family in order to dwell in thevirtual world. Speaking of which, I have to go now – the family’s calling me tosupper and movie night.

And speaking of supper, here’s a tastylittle sample from my new novel, LoveCapri Style. Since it’s set on the Mediterranean island of Capri, there’slots of delicious Italian food, plus plenty of romantic scenery. Buon appetito!

---------------------------

AmandaJackson only took the job with Fame magazine to get closer to her estrangedfather, billionaire publisher Peter Tate. Instead of welcoming her, Dad sendsher out of the country, to cover a music festival on the magnificent isle ofCapri. There Amanda finds herself up close and personal with her dad’s leadingcompetitor – dashing British playboy Eric Greyford. Can she get an exclusive onEric’s hectic love life, or will she wind up as just another item on the gossippages of his newspaper?

Amanda turned her attentionto the array of dishes spread out before them.

"What's this one?"She pointed her fork at some little yellow dumpling shapes.

"That, my dear, issaffron gnocchi with shaved truffles."

Amanda gaped at him, then letloose with a full, throaty laugh. "Wow, you pull out all the stops toimpress a woman, don't you?"

"Only some women."He looked away again, at the tablecloth, as if he'd embarrassed himself.

Amanda pretended she hadn'theard him and concentrated her attention on the food. "That soundsdecadent. I've got to have it."

The gnocchi melted in hermouth, leaving a savory tang on her tongue. Amanda gave a little shiver, hereyes flickering shut with sheer delight. The food, the starry sky above – evenif she went home without a story and got fired, at least she'd always have thememory of this night and this dinner. With this man. When she opened her eyes,Eric's gaze burned into her own, his blue the cold, deep color of the oceanthat lay beyond their little haven amongst the fairy lights. He stared at herwith an intensity that made her feel naked and defenseless.

Oh, he would be fierce inbed. Maybe even a little rough, domineering. Sometimes being a control freakcould be a good thing, though. Amanda struggled to swallow past a lump in herthroat.

Eric leaned forward andspoke, his voice low and husky with restrained desire.

"I told you you're awoman of strong appetites. I intend to satisfy all of them."

--------------------------------------------

Author Bio:

Lynn Reynolds is a city girl trapped in GreenAcres. She’s a writer, wife and mom – although not necessarily in that order.Her secret ambition is to be a wench at the Renaissance Faire. RT Book Reviews called her romanticsuspense novel Thirty-Nine Again “… afirst-class mystery . . . and a first-class read.” Visit her at www.lynnreynolds.com.

Buy links:

There are buy links for my books at my ownwebsite, or you can order them from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or The Wild RosePress.

Lynn Reynolds atThe Wild Rose Press

http://tinyurl.com/lynnreynoldswildrose

Lynn Reynolds at Barnes& Noble

http://tinyurl.com/lynnreynoldsbn

Lynn Reynolds atAmazon

http://tinyurl.com/lynnreynoldsamazon

Visit my website at http://www.lynnreynolds.com

I'm on Facebook way too much of the time. Friend me thereat https://www.facebook.com/authorlynnreynolds

I don't blog often, but I am a regular contributor to thePopCultureDivas blog at http://www.thepopculturedivas.com/

My own blog can be found at http://lynnreynolds.blogspot.com/

How Is Success Measured? by Rhonda Lee Carver

2011-06-26T13:33:00.000-07:00

Suffering from years of hopeless romantic notions and sexy, sassy heroines and bad-ass heroes taking up residence in her mind, Rhonda decided to write and bring the stories to life. With baby on hip and laptop on the other--and two years later--Rhonda has published five eBooks with a handful of spicy love stories waiting for the final touches.

When Rhonda isn’t crafting edge-of-your-seat, sizzling-ink novels, you will find her with her children, watching soccer, watching a breathtaking movie, doing (or trying) yoga, and finding new ways to keep her smile bright.

Rhonda thrives on making her readers happy. She believes everyone deserves romance--one page at a time…

This is a conversation I had with an acquaintance a few daysago.

Him: Are you a published writer?

Me: Yes

Him: Do you sell? I mean, are you successful?

Me: I’m not Stephen King or Nora Roberts successful, but Ifeel successful in my own way.

Him: I’ve never heard of your books. How do you measuresuccess? Is it just the number of books you sell or the amount of money youmake?

I found myself feeling angry with this person. I rudely saidgoodbye. That should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t. I found myselfmulling his words around in my head the rest of the day. Maybe that’s a goodquestion, “How do we measure success?”

Success can be measured in many ways. How much money youhave in the bank. How many books you have sold. Do people recognize your name?I guess everyone has their own measuring tool.

I am successful, but maybe not in the way most people viewachievement. What means the most to me in life is those who I love and careabout. Love is a form of success. It means more than the bank account or thenumber of sells I’ve made for the month. The more people we love, the moresuccessful. We can never have too much, or never have too many people we carefor. Love never runs out. It grows and expands. It is forever giving.

Now, if this acquaintance and I would have this conversationagain I would tell him, “I am successful in many ways in life. But if you askme what I’ve accomplished, I can tell you. I am a writer. I have written booksthat are published. A writer doesn’t sit down and with each word typed he/sheching-chings a dollar amount. In fact, I’d say that for most writers moneyisn’t even the object or purpose. It’s a feeling of doing what we love.Creating literary art. It’s a talent of mythical pleasure. Just like thesurgeon who operates, the teacher who teaches, the construction worker whobuilds a bridge, a store manager who manages, a trucker who trucks food to thestores, a cab driver who drives…not everyone gets a pat on the back for theirhard work or talent. Not everyone’s name is in neon lights. It doesn’t have tobe. Our reward is doing what we love to do. And that is how I measure success.”

DELANEY'S SUNRISE

$5.50 $3.85
SAVE: 30% OFF

Author: Rhonda Lee Carver

Genre: Romance

Digital ISBN: 9781616502836

Length: Novel

Digital Publication Date: June 20, 2011

Cover art by Valerie Tibbs

Formats: .epub, .lit, .pdf, .prc (Kindle and Mobi)

Five years ago, Dee Crawford's engagement to Jacob Delaney ended in death. Jacob's secrets followed him to his grave--and chased Dee from Delaney's Farm, and from his brother Abe's forbidden embrace. Yet when her own secrets send her back to Ohio and right into Abe Delaney's arms, old guilt comes to light, old passions reignite, and Jacob's secrets return to haunt them with more than just his memory. Someone in town wants Dee gone, and will do anything to stop her from uncovering the truth about her fiance's death. If Dee is to survive, she must expose Jacob's long-buried secrets...and expose her heart to Abe. Only by admitting their love can they ease the guilt that has plagued them for years. But will love be enough to save Dee when the next death on Delaney's Farm may be her own?

EXCERPT:

Dee didn’t look at him. He couldn’t look at her, either.He’d lived with the weight of shame, embarrassment and pain for years. He’ddone a good job molding those emotions into something more useful, moreproductive: anger. The latter was far better than sorrow. Abe had convincedhimself of her faults long ago. He wouldn’t allow her to unravel him again.

“You’re notwelcome here, Dee.”

She set herbottle on the floor. It fell onto its side. Beer spilled out in a foamy puddle;both ignored it.

Tensionenveloped him. What would she say?

“Let’s getpast that, Abe. The reality is, Jacob wanted me here. I don’t know why he did,but I trusted him.”

He smirked.“You don’t belong here. Did you change your clothes to prove a point toyourself, or just to impress me?”

One thinbrow curved in challenge. “It’d make you happy to think I was trying to impressyou.”

“No.” Hewrinkled his nose. “No, it wouldn’t.” He dropped his feet to the floor with athud.

“Oh, forgiveme.” Her tone teetered on mockery. “You’re into engaged women, right? I’m onlya single girl now.”

Her bitterwords hit home, striking as hard as a blow to the gut. He rose so quickly shestumbled back. He stalked toward her. Agitated, the horses kicked at the doorsof their stalls as if they shared his tension.

Her lipstrembled. “Did I touch a sensitive chord?”

Chord? Hell,she’d unleashed a flood. He caught her wrist in a solid grip. He didn’t want tohurt her, but he dragged her close and bent low to her ear. “You wanna stay?”His voice was dangerously low. “Stay. But don’t cross my path, or I’ll throwyour ass off my farm quicker than you can throw Jacob’s name in my face again. Ownershiprights or no ownership rights, that’s my word. Got it?”

She tiltedher head back and looked up at him. Her face was devoid of emotion, but thedamp mist in her eyes made her a liar. “Got it,” she whispered.

He droppedher wrist and pivoted on his heel, heading for the exit.

Her shakyvoice stopped him. “I know you, Abe, probably better than Jacob did. If Ididn’t already realize you’re a kind man, I’d run as far away from you as Icould. You’re angry and you’re feeling guilty. I know, because I feel the same.I’ve dealt with those same emotions since Jacob died. You may hate me and Idon’t know if I still...if I like you much either, but we share one thing. Weboth lost someone we loved.”

He kept hisback to her, but as the last word left her lips he nearly fled outside. Suckingin fresh air, he shoved his hands into his pockets. Damn it. Damn her.

She’dleave...eventually.

Rhonda's Links:

Other books by Rhonda Lee Carver:

A tumble down the stairs lands Carly back in the arms of her ex-husband.After the loss of a child tears her marriage apart, Carly vows she’ll never speak to her soon-to-be ex-husband Chance again. On the eve of their divorce, however, Carly takes a stroll down memory lane and calls Chance. A passionate one night stand between the two is shattered by cruel light of morning. With reality having set back in, Carly admits to Chance she made a mistake, forcing him to come to grips that there is no hope left for their marriage. Fate has other plans for them. Carly’s fall down some stairs leaves her with amnesia…but that’s only the start of it.Can deception bring a second chance at love or will it forever destroy an already broken marriage?

Zoe has a problem and his name is Lieutenant Jagmeyer.Zoe Carmichael has one true love—work. But a satisfying career doesn’t sate her desire for steamy Lieutenant Jagmeyer, a career military firefighter. He’s as anti-relationship as she is, if not more. She sees in him the perfect opportunity for companionship without commitment. Things, however, don’t always work out as one plans. When Jag becomes Zoe’s protector after a death threat against her life, unbridled passion pulls at them both. Can Zoe resist falling for Jag who wears his hardcore badge for everyone to see? Will Jag risk losing everything he’s worked for? Content warning: explicit sex, graphic language.

Four Romantic Greek Myths by Erin O’Riordan

2011-05-27T00:02:00.000-07:00

In ‘The Smell of Gas,’ dinerwaitress Athena imparts her wisdom through Greek myths. She tells the story of the birth of Aphrodite, the birth of love. Greek mythology is full of powerstruggles, violence and gore, but there’s also an element of romance. Here arefour of the Greek myths most cherished by romantic souls like Athena.

1. Orpheus and Eurydice

She was a beautiful woodnymph. He was a lonely shepherd who amused himself by playing lovely songs onthe lyre, ancient Greece’s version of the acoustic guitar. When he first laideyes on her, Orpheus composed a song just for Eurydice, and it was love atfirst listen. One day as she ran through the woods searching for him, Eurydicewas bitten by a poisonous snake.

Not content to allow his loveto languish in the Underworld, Orpheus went to the land of the dead to bringEurydice back. His audacious campaign was successful, though Lord Hades andLady Persephone (won over by his songs) made him agree not to look back to seeEurydice until they reached the land of the living. Unable to keep his eyes offher, Orpheus turned to see Eurydice again, and she had to return to the worldof the dead.

2. Cupid and Psyche

Psyche was the youngest andmost beautiful of three sisters. Her beauty made the local people neglect theirworship of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. Aphrodite appeared toPsyche’s father and demanded the girl be left on a high mountain, where shewould be sacrificed. A terrified Psyche made her way to the peak alone. Whatshe found was not death, but the soft breath of the wind, which carried her toa sumptuous palace.

There she married Cupid, theson of Aphrodite, though the bride was never allowed to see the groom. Psyche’ssisters convinced her that if her husband didn’t want to be seen, he must be aterrible monster. Taking their advice, Psyche crept up on Cupid as he slept andheld a candle to him. He was the most lovely creature she had ever seen. A dropof hot wax hit his cheek and he woke up, banishing her for breaking the onerule of their union.

Their story does not endtragically, though. A soft-hearted Aphrodite offers Psyche the chance tocomplete a series of grueling tasks. Psyche rises to the challenge and isrewarded with being made a goddess, reuniting with Cupid. C.S. Lewis wrote awonderful version of this myth in ‘Till We Have Faces.’

3. Persephone and Hades

Hades, the god of theUnderworld, judged the dead all night and day and was known for his heart ofstone. That heart melted when he saw Persephone, the young daughter of hissister, the powerful earth-goddess Demeter. Like a gentleman, he went toPersephone’s father, Zeus, and asked for her hand in marriage. Unfortunately,he forgot to inform either Persephone or Demeter of this Zeus-sanctionedarrangement, and Persephone took their “wedding” as an abduction. Yes, thissounds more cruel than romantic. However, in Nigel Spivey’s excellent accountin his ‘Songs on Bronze: The Greek Myths Made Real,’ Hades treated her withrespect. He offered Persephone the gift of a pomegranate, comparing himself tothe fruit: tough on the outside, but secretly full of sweetness.

After the initial shock oftransitioning to the cool, dark Underworld, Persephone fell in love with thegod, who was every bit as handsome as his more amorous brothers Zeus andPoseidon. In later myths like that of Orpheus and Eurydice, the pair is alwaysportrayed ruling side-by-side as equals, Persephone tempering her husband’sharsh judgments and offering humanity hope of reincarnation.

4. Aphrodite and Adonis

Even the goddess of loveherself was not immune from having her head turned by a lovely mortal.Good-looking men are still compared to Adonis to this day. Adonis wasoff-the-charts hot. Although the goddess adored him, the hottie still had to goout and earn his living as a hunter. Sadly, he was gored by one of the boars.In his dying moments, he sought Aphrodite and died in her arms as she bestoweda farewell kiss. Where each of his bloodied footsteps fell, a beautiful redAdonis flower (also known as pheasants’-eye) springs up every year foreternity.

BUY HERE

Blurb - Love pulp fiction? Just try putting down The Smell of Gas. TSOG is full of saints and sinners you'll love to hate. There's Brigid, the high school basketball player and secret heroin addict. Fred, a Catholic lesbian teen, loves Brigid, but doesn't know about her affair with Edward, a married Evangelical preacher. Sex, ethics, religions and mythologies clash as you dig deeper into their connection to the death of a young couple.

PG-rated Excerpt:
    Athena sat across from him again, reaching behind to place the pot on an unoccupied table. “Let’s start at the beginning,” she said. “The Book of Genesis. It says that in the beginning, God created the light first, and then the sky, the land and the seas. Then the trees and plants, and so on and so forth. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Out of nothing.”
    “That’s what the Bible says,” he agreed. “God split the waters of primordial chaos, creating dry land, and then created the things that live on it. You could say that He created them out of nothing, or that He created them out of His word.”
    “However, it doesn’t say God created the Devil,” she said. “The serpent that tempted Adam and Eve, yes. A serpent is only an animal, though. Do you know what the ancient Greeks used to say, before Christianity?”
    “I read a little mythology in grammar school,” he said. “The Iliad and the Odyssey, I think, but it’s been so many years. I wouldn’t remember…”
    “In the beginning, there was only Father Sky, who called himself Ouranos, and Mother Earth, who was called Gaia. Ouranos saw Gaia, loved her, and made himself one with her.” She brought her hands together to emphasize the point. “The sun, the moon, the ocean– these were all the children of Ouranos and Gaia. They had hundreds more, and they were the grandparents of the gods and of human beings. Ouranos didn’t make any of this out of nothing, and neither did God. There had to be a wife.”
    “Do you really believe that?” Edward asked. “That’s paganism, Athena. You can’t honestly call yourself a Christian and believe that God has a wife.”
    She shrugged. “He had a wife, or She had a husband. Gaia couldn’t do it all by herself either. But do you know what I really think, when I lie in bed at night thinking about it? That God and the Devil were married.”

Erin's Links:

Other Books by Erin O'Riordan

Secrets of Character Creation by Mysti Parker

2011-05-11T19:17:00.000-07:00

Thanksso much for having me today. I’ve been asked to describe how I write theperfect character in terms of villain, hero, and heroine. While I’m sure youcould find book after book on character creation, my short answer is simply: Iwrite them how I like to read them. Years spent reading and watching films andTV have naturally given me preferences on what constitutes a good baddie, aheroic hero, and a heart-stopping heroine.

However,in the spirit of all things list-worthy, I’ll list a few things that aremust-haves in my character creation, starting with:

The Villian

1. He/Shemust be multi-faceted. This means not 100% evil. I’m sure even Hitler had agood point or two about him. Maybe he liked bunnies. Whatever the case, showinga soft side to the baddie is essential in making them realistic.

2. Thevillain must have motivation. As a writer, you have to be the psychiatrist. Putthe baddie on the couch and ask him/her why exactly they wanted to blow up theEiffel Tower. Did his papa blow up his mama when he was a boy? Did her mamablow up her doll house when she was a girl? Give ‘em a reason for the meanness.

3. Thevillain must have the upper hand at some point. You can all remember times infamous films and books when all hope seems to be lost. Luke Skywalker is facingoff with Darth Vader, and for a moment, you fear that Darth might just kill himafter all. That’s good villain writing!

The Hero

1. Hehas a genuinely good heart, but he’s not perfect. I love writing flawedcharacters. My heroes have weaknesses. They’ve done things they regret, butwhen worst comes to worst, their hearts are in the right place.

2. He’snot dark and brooding. I’ve liked my share of vampire guys, certainly. But, forme, those guys are hard to acclimate. My heroes like to have fun, and when theyfind a woman who matches their goofy side, all the better!

3. Hedoesn’t always save the heroine. In fact, she just might save him! In “ARanger’s Tale”, one of my favorite lines is, “I think we saved each other.”Which brings us to…

The Heroine

1. She’snot a naïve virgin, for goodness sakes! I’ve read so many 80’s era romancesabout naïve virgins and velvety shafts, that I very rarely write my heroinesthat way. She may have had a lover or two or been married before. At the veryleast, she’s had some experiences in life and she’s not fresh off the farm,ready to transform the dark, brooding, promiscuous male into the perfect herowith her innocence.

2. Shemay be a diva, a damsel, or somewhere in between, but she’s going to learn justhow strong she really can be during the course of the story. My girls maythirst for adventure or long or a quiet life in a small town, but they’re goingto have to work for their goals. They don’t completely depend on the hero tosave them.

3. Speakingof goals, her only goal isn’t to land the hero. Caliphany in A Ranger’s Tale set off to live on her own and leave everyone else behind. She just happened tofall in love along the way. I think it brings us back to the multi-facetedtrait. She’s got to have some aspirations in life other than living happilyever after with her man.

I I hope thishas given you some idea of how this writer forms her characters. This isn’t theonly way, and I’m still learning what makes the people in my stories tick. It’srather fun to get to know them over the course of the story, and I truly missthem when the tale comes to an end. I hope my readers feel the same!

Now grab agood book and a hot cup of coffee and enjoy meeting some newcharacters!

BUY HERE

Blurb: Set in the fantasy world of Tallenmere, the high elf Caliphany Aranea longs to explore the world and escape from her controlling father. Her dreams are fulfilled when she meets ranger and ship captain Galadin Trudeaux. But, when secrets from the past bring tragedy to those she loves, Caliphany must fight to hold on to the life she's always wanted.

Excerpt from Chapter 18:

Galadin

Cali stood and flung her bow over her shoulder.
I waved my hands at her. “Cali, I think you should stay here in the camp.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“The goblins aren’t to be taken lightly. They can swarm on you in an instant.”
“Which is all the more reason I should go along to help.”
There was no arguing with her, not with that stubborn set of her chin and those flashing blue eyes. Damn, she was beautiful when she set her mind to do something.
“All right, then, let’s go, but we have to be careful.”
We climbed the narrow path up the cliff side to the ancient temple. Bastivar was a crumbling, pillared fortress carved into the mountainside in honor of the goddess Innessa. Worshippers had long since vanished, and as long as anyone could remember, the only current inhabitants were goblins.
“Hidari mi compli,” we chanted, and sneaked inside. Our eyes adjusted to the dim light in the entryway.
“I’ll draw some of them out,” I whispered. “Stay concealed, and when you see one coming, shoot it.”
Down one corridor, a group of three goblins came toward me. I aimed and shot one, then ran back when the other two charged. Cali’s first arrow barely missed my head, but she got one. I shot the last one as she readied another arrow.
“Nicely done,” I whispered. “Now, we—”
“Achoo!” Cali couldn’t stop her sneeze in time. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
A great snarling ensued from within the main corridor.
A horde of beady, yellow eyes came toward us.
“Cali, run!”
She fled, and we ran down the cliff side as fast as we could without falling off. We reached the forest floor, and I looked back. Goblins streamed out of the ruins, so many that some fell off the cliff. There had never been this many before. It must have been a long while since anyone had cleared them out. We sped through the underbrush. Thorns scratched our skin and snagged our leathers, but they were gaining on us.
We reached the main path, and I grabbed Cali. “Give me my father’s sword.”
She unsheathed it and handed it to me. “Galadin, there’s too many. We’ll never fight them off.”
“Conceal yourself and run. Now!”
She clutched my sleeve. “I won’t leave you here!”
For the brief moment while the goblins closed in, I met her panic-stricken eyes. I’d never met a woman I would die for, until then. “Go!”
I pushed her on, and she turned to run. Goblins burst through the bush, and I readied my sword. Right and left, I swung, impaling and kicking them off the blade, chopping off spindly gray limbs, a head when I could aim just right. Piles of jerking bodies began to pile at my feet. The onslaught lessened, but before I could catch my breath, another wave of them burst forth.
One of them latched onto my arm, its jagged teeth sinking in through the leather. I cried out. Then, an arrow sank into its ugly body. Cali had come back, her next arrow nocked and ready. I shook the goblin off my arm. Still, they came, yet another wave.
She threw down her bow and ran to my side. “Galadin, get back!”
“What? No, I told you to run!”
“No time.”
She pulled me back, stepped in front of me, and held out her hands. Blue fire burst from her palms, like flaming blasts of lightning, but continuous, and dreadfully hot. I had to back away from the intensity of the heat. The inferno charred the goblins, turning them from gray, to black, to piles of ashes before my eyes. The fire consumed every bush and weed, everything in its path, until the goblins in the rear decided they were outmatched. Shrieking, they turned and hightailed it back up the cliff and into Bastivar.
Cali stared at her smoking hands. I ran to her, relieved to see that she wasn’t burned. But, she was weakened. I embraced her, letting her catch her breath, her head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers along her braid.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I said.
She raised her head and peered into my eyes. “I didn’t either.”
Then, our lips met, and nothing else mattered.

* * * * *

Author Bio:

Mysti Parker is a full-time wife, mom of three, and a writer. Born and raised in Kentucky, writing has always been her first love. After many years of pursuing other things, she began her writing career in earnest in 2009. Look for more romantic tales from her fantasy world of Tallenmere, where magic, passion, murder, and mayhem are a part of everyday life.

Creating Worlds by Judy Nickles

2011-04-29T22:05:00.000-07:00

Hogwarts, IndianaJones’ Temple of Doom, Star Wars, Narnia, and so many other popular worldsexist because their characters inhabit them. Creating worlds is a challengebeyond anything I can imagine. However, my characters live in the past, oftenthe near-past, and rather than creating their world, I must go back and try towalk through it as it existed, despite the fences of time.

Because I writemostly ‘vintage’ stories, one of my passions is researching settings, inparticular the houses of the time period. In a time when old homes are beingsnapped up for renovation, seeing these houses as originally constructed (notas they’ve evolved over years of changing ownership and necessary repairs andmodernization) is always fascinating.

Whenever I travel,I always make it a point to tour any available older home open to the public,especially antebellum houses. I recently visited the McCollum-Chidester Housein Camden, Arkansas, which dates from the 1850s and was used as Unionheadquarters during the nearby battle of Poison Springs.

While researching asetting for a story set between the present and Civil War eras, I happened on Plantation Houses and Mansions of the Old South(J. Frazier Smith, reprinted in 1993 from the original 1941 version, DoverPublications). The discussion of the homes, complete with sketches of groundsand outbuildings, explanatory text, and floor plans, fascinated me andeventually led me to the absolute ‘right’ model for my story.

Sadly, many ofthese grand structures were victimized by looters both during and after theCivil War and later fell into disrepair beyond reclamation. Those that remainare rich sources of ideas for writers. And, perhaps stories lurk even among thesilent columns and disembodied steps of those structures no longer whole.

We tend to take forgranted many of our modern conveniences, but did you know that outhouses werein common usage until at least 1920? Larger, more expensive homes of the 1880shad indoor plumbing, including flush toilets. Some bathrooms even had showersin that decade, and there were smaller bathtubs built for children.

Kitchens, originallydetached buildings due to fire risk during the antebellum period when cookingwas done on an open hearth, moved inside. Wood burning and coal and stovesevolved into gas and electric appliances. During the later 1880s, women left outdoor wash pots for deep sinks thateven came equipped with wringers. “Slop sinks” served for the messier jobs likerinsing floor mops.

Between 1879 and1889, electricity and stamped metal ceilings (still to be seen in many olderbusiness establishments) appeared. Most houses were two-story with therequisite parlor and front ‘lobby’.

From about 1908 t01940, Sears Roebuck sold homebuilding kits delivered to your lot (hopefullywith basement and foundation ready) by train or truck. Montgomery Ward andother companies provided their versions of the product and service. In thefirst decade of the twentieth century, Colonial Revival styles became popular.Enclosed porches, basement furnaces, steam radiators, and sheet rocked wallsmarked newer homes in this time period. Also popular were attic dormers.

Houses known as‘bungalows’ were fashionable in the next decade. The latest in electricappliances, as well as the candlestick telephone, took up residence with thefamilies who occupied these homes. Residents might even add a sleeping porch ora fireproof steel garage for their car.

In the 1920s,people became interested in European style homes. Glass doorknobs, highlyprized by some collectors today, opened inside doors. Built-ins included Murphybeds and ironing boards.

The came the GreatDepression. Forced from their homes, people migrated to shanty towns, living inany shelter available to them. Still, those who could, built stylish homes withstucco exteriors, slate roofs, sunken living rooms, and all the latestconveniences, including air-conditioning. Tile and linoleum flourished, andthose who had cars parked them in detached garages.

In 1940, my parentsbuilt and were married in the living room of their first home. I lived thereuntil the age of four, so I have some memories of the house. Still, it wasexciting to find a picture of the exact house in The Vintage House Book: ClassicAmerican Homes 1880-1980 (Tad Burness, Krause Publications 2003). Thecredit for much of the previously-shared information goes to Mr. Burness andhis well-researched, heavily-illustrated volume which I would recommend towriters of tales from by-gone days. I’d even go so far as to say that it’s a‘must’ on your writing bookshelf.

It’s not enough to‘set’ a story in a previous time. Readers must be able to ‘see’ places throughinterspersed (though not belabored) description. They want to feel a part ofthe time and place, as if they, too, were living in that Dutch Colonial orEnglish cottage. If I soak up the atmosphere of these long-ago homes, either byvisits or vicariously through books, I’m better able to create it for myreaders.

For a list ofresources for information on various aspects of the past (characters, settings,etc.) visit the Resources for Writers page at my website I try to update itas I get new ideas, and I’d love for you to share your own resources to beposted there. Use the ‘contact me’ box on the home page.

BUY HERE

Blurb: Despite over thirty years in a faithless marriage to wealthy investment broker Rand Kingston, Jean is shocked when he asks for a divorce. Encouraged by her former housekeeper-turned-best-friend, she determines to rediscover herself as an independent woman and move on with her life. Nick Cameron, prominent attorney and long-time widower, would like to figure in her plans. The opposition of their adult children surprises them. Then, a series of chilling near misses makes them wonder who really is determined to keep them apart—and why.

Can You Hear Your Characters Speaking? by Joanne Troppello

2011-04-22T00:05:00.000-07:00

When I first started writing, I was terrible at keeping true to one character’s point of view at a time. I was a head hopper. Yes, I can admit that—now I feel so much better.

All kidding aside, my lack of discipline when it came to POV totally ruined my efforts in creating a smooth flowing story. After working with some wonderful editors, I realized my problem. It was not easy to change my bad habits, but once I actually saw what I was doing wrong, it definitely made a difference.

There are so many facets of writing well with regard to POV and as long as you start at the beginning, you’ll keep getting better at it. Don’t allow discouragement to take over. Rome wasn’t built in a day; although as my Italian husband always likes to joke, it sure fell in a day. Back to POV…it takes time to develop good writing habits. I can say this because I’ve been down the road to recovery when it comes to changing bad habits.

I’m currently working on the edits for my fourth book. I still have to remind myself that I need to get into character, just like an actor when acting out a scene. Get into your character’s head and see what she or he is seeing. Hear what she’s hearing. Smell what he smells. Touch what she touches. Feel what he feels. That is the only way that you’re going to get it right.

You need to jump into the scene with your character and almost imagine that you are that character—at least for the moment, until you finish that scene and get into the head of another character. Don’t just tell us what this character is feeling, but show the readers. Telling won’t draw the readers fully into the story. Showing will fully engage them and they’ll love your story.

What is the character thinking? What’s on his or her mind? The readers want to know that. Here’s an example:

She cried out in pain and lurched forward as her foot got caught in the meandering roots of an old oak tree. Landing on the ground, her hand smashed down on a rock and pain seared up her arm. Great, twisted ankle and sprained wrist in the same day—pulling through the pain, she stood up and leaned on the tree for support. She thought about Peter again. The love of her life, he was also the man who broke her heart when he chose the agency over her. Don’t think about him, just keep moving.

What do we learn from this paragraph about the character? Well, she’s obviously running somewhere and trips and gets hurt. We get a glimpse into her thoughts when she shares about her lost love. “Don’t think about him, just keep moving,” is a line that shows narration of the story from the character’s POV. To write effectively, we need to get into the mind of our characters and write from their senses.

BUY HERE

BLURB: Sophie Baird is looking for a way to escape the painful reality of her parents' deaths. Unable to live in their home any longer, she takes a job as a live-in tutor to Anastasia Shipley to remove herself from her painful memories and the feeling that God has abandoned her.

Anastasia has an illness that has prevented her from ever attending school and makes her father, Sebastian, over protective.

When Sophie first meets Sebastian, she cannot deny the intense attraction she feels toward him. When an unexpected romance begins between them, she starts to rebuild her relationship with God, with the help of a certain little girl.

~ * ~

AUTHOR BIO: A romantic suspense and inspirational romance author writingcontemporary romance with a classic feel, Ms. Troppello is also a freelancewriter / marketing consultant, located in Pennsylvania. She has two bookspublished. Shadowed Remembrances is a mystery novel and Mr.Shipley's Governess is an inspirational romance novel, published throughWild Horse Press. She is contracted to work forseveral different companies, to write non-fiction, how-to articles eachweek. She also works as a freelance marketing consultant for a localmedical organization and manages facebook and twitter accounts for differentclients. Ms. Troppello loves to writeand read and spend time with her family.

~ * ~

Also from Joanne Troppello:

BUY HERE

Shadowed Remembrances is a story about a young woman who has walked away from her past and her small town and started her life over in the city. On a visit back home, she is confronted with the hurts of her past, the rekindling of an old flame, and a murder. Torianna Silverman is a crime scene investigator, specializing in fingerprint identification. She is a NYC detective who is on vacation in a small Pennsylvania town. She encounters God in a special way and has to come face to face with her fears and find a way to move forward and solve the crime.

Joanne's Links:

Web Site

Facebook

Twitter

Hi. My name’s Brandi, and I’m a Southerner by Brandi Evans

2011-04-12T00:01:00.000-07:00

When approached to write this guest blog, I was asked towrite about my home town, which made me realize something odd.

I don’t have a home town.

I was born in Ft. Smith, AR, but my parents moved around so much I don’t claim an actualhometown—and that was before my dad joined the military. Yet despite beingconstantly uprooted, I’ve always lived in the South. From the great state ofMisery, er Missouri…my bad, to the costal beauty of South Carolina, and then finallyback home to The Natural State, I’ve always unapologetically been a Southerngal.

Therefore, I present to you (in no particular order)…

10 Reasons Why Livingin the South ROCKS

1. Sweet tea.

2. I don’t haveto explain how far “yonder” is.

3. Grits.

4. I can use theword “fixin’” as a noun, verb or adjective.

5. I’msurrounded by others who understand BBQ is NOT a condiment…it’s a state of mind.

6. Cowboys (orcowgirls if that’s your thing).

7. You can deep-fryanything, even butter.

8. Frontporches.

9. I can prettymuch wear the same clothes all year ‘round.

10. I don't have toexplain or defend my accent!

~Brandi Evans

P.S. In honor of mysexy Ellora’s Cave release, Lust, Lace& Lingerie, anyone who leaves a comment will be entered in a drawing towin thesesteamy sex coupons!

BUY HERE

Blurb:

I love managing the sexy Dallas boutique, Red LightLingerie—talking to people about sex, toys and bedroom wear. One of my favoriteerotic benefits? My boss, Maxwell Penn, is a Matthew McConaughey lookalike—butwith a hot British accent. Okay, he can be domineering and I spend most of mytime on the clock fluctuating between “I want to bed him” and “I want tostrangle him.” But still…yum.

Tonight, however, everything will change.

An old friend of Max’s from Britain, a lingerie designer, hasflown in to show Max a couple possible pieces for our new Risqué line of bedroom wear—but their model canceled. Can you seewhere this is going? Yep. I go from manager to model, and before I can sayG-string, this spur-of-the-moment modeling gig ignites in passion and little’ol me finds herself sandwiched between Max and his dark-n-sexy best friend.

I’d be in heaven ifit wasn’t for the guilt swirling in Max’s blue eyes. But guilt for what?

EXCERPT:

“As youcan see,” Garrett said to Max, “the fishnet offers the viewer a very visualpicture while giving the wearer some sense of coverage.”

Sense ofcoverage? I tried not to roll my eyes. My damn pubic hairs were showing.

“And theblack color,” Garrett continued, “combined with the extra-firm elasticity ofthe fishnet, help minimize bodily imperfections. Not that this one needs anyhelp in that arena, hey, Max?”

“No, notat all. She’s…breathtaking.”

My nippleshardened at his words, and Max’s gaze zoned in on my breasts like heat-seekingmissiles locking onto a target. He adjusted himself.

“And…”Garrett spun me around so my breasts pressed against the hard planes of hischest and swept my long hair over one shoulder, exposing my back to Max. “Asyou can see, the view from the back is exquisite as well. The dipping backlinedraws the eye and plays with the senses.”

As ifaccentuating his words, he teased his fingertips along the small of my back.Shivers followed where he touched me and I bit back a moan. My mind went wildwith images of his big, gentle hands touching other parts of my body.

Christ,this was not happening.

“And thethick crisscrossing ropes,” Garrett said, his breath hot on my neck, “are notjust decorative, my friend. They’re great for anchoring ties too. Now I knowwhat you’re thinking. ‘It’s fishnet. One good tug, and it’s gonna rip.’ But Iassure you that’s not the case. The synthetic fabric has some give, yes, butit’ll take a lot of force to rip. It will give you absolute control over yourwoman. And I know how much you likethat.”

Brandi's Links:

Website

Blog

Twitter

Secrets and Lies: The story of an author mom by Jennifer Wylie

2011-04-10T01:22:00.000-07:00

Iam a stay at home mom for my two darling boys. This year they are both fulltime in school. You'd think I'd have a lot of time to write. Not so much.Though I do try. There seems to always be a million things to do. I'm known tobe a very organized person, yet still things get away from me.

Mymorning starts with a very cranky me in search of coffee. My husband, the boys,and even the dog stay clear until I reach the pot. Our mini Australian shepherdwill wait a few feet away, butt wiggling and waiting to be taken out. Coffee inhand we head to the back yard, we have a five foot fence, it was high enoughfor our last full sized Aussie. This one jumps it. So I must stand there andwait to ensure she doesn't escape. Though we live in the country, our road isbusy and people drive too fast. In the summer I don't mind so much. This timeof year when it's snowing and -20 out, I wish she'd learn to pee faster.

Backinside I fill up my cup and if it's a school day the orders start. Get dressed,eat your breakfast. No, do NOT leave your jammies in the middle of the floor!Brush your teeth, did you go pee? I am weaving through our horribly smallkitchen now. (I really hate it. It's literally 3 feet wide. You can't have morethan one person in without bumping into them). Hub is trying to get hisbreakfast and coffee, I'm trying to get sandwiches made for lunch, do breakfastdishes, ensure all school paperwork and homework is in backpacks. Now thecranky moments of trying to get kids into snowsuits and out the door.

Finallya moment of quiet. Time to check emails, sigh at the amount, tweet goodmorning. Take dog out again, get more coffee. I spend a few hours tweeting,emailing, facebooking, checking various forums and lists and blogs. Not all forfun, as an author you have to maintain that Internet presence. I also have awork from home job, which involves working with other authors, reading, editingetc.

Duringthe day I rotate the laundry, pick up toys, do dishes (no dishwasher!), takeout the dog every hour, make beds, sweep floors. Oh, did I mention I have over50 birds? A hobby that got a bit out of control. We can't forget the hour or sofeeding and watering and checking on all of them. If I'm lucky I get a shortnap.

Thekids get off the bus at 4. Hubby is home before or after, who knows. Where hasthe day gone? Time for checking journals, cleaning out bags, doing homework andstarting dinner. Eat fast. Do dishes, more laundry, more tidying, bathe thekids, get them in jammies and teeth brushed and lunches made and tucked intobed. I feel like collapsing but I've yet to do any writing. Sometimes I manage.Luckily the boys go to bed at 7.

Whereare the secrets and lies? My house is clean. (Snort! Do not look in thecorners, or too closely). Of course I sit around eating bon-bons all day andwatching soaps. (TV? What is that? I don't have time for TV! Okay yes I do eata lot of chocolate though :P) How often to I sit down to edit or write and justget started... and then am called away? Yet I still say, yes I'm editing, yesI'm writing.

Theclassic of course... What did you do today?

Oh,not much.

Onthe other hand, there are those days all I do is edit or write, but I'll whiskaround the house just before everyone gets home and when asked I say I cleanedall day. :D Shh. That's a secret.

Beinga published author is fun and exciting and also a lot of work. With themarketing, edits on upcoming work, and writing new stories my brain sometimesstart to spin.

Mydebut short story Jump came out Dec. 15^th. March 1^st mynext short story, The Forgotten Echo was released. I also contracted for a 6story short series- one due each month, and my novel Sweet Light is coming outin May. I've two other shorts just contracted and another novel submitted, fournovels in progress and a few I need to clean up before submitting.

Imight be insane.

Follow the insanity--

My website: www.jenniferwylie.ca

My blog: http://jlwylie.wordpress.com/

The Forgotten Echo

Short Story- YA, Paranormal

Published by Echelon Press

Top seller and top rated on OmniLit eBookssite.

Blurb:

Sometimes death is only the beginning...

Even after the bad day she's had, Cassy is still surprised to find herselfshot, an innocent bystander in a drive by shooting. Bleeding to death in anempty parking lot, she knows she is going die.

What she doesn't expect, is the arrival of a strange, and unnaturally handsome,man who tells her he can keep her from passing on in return for being hisforever. In desperation, she agrees but afterwards she is beyond dismayed todiscover she has died.

To make matters worse, the stranger has disappeared, leaving her spirit towander through a series of worlds unknown to her. Her existence is one of fearand loneliness, until she meets another like her and discovers she's not aghost at all but something much more.

Blurb:

If you were told to jump off of a bridge would you? Perhaps it would depend on who was doing the asking. Our heroine has spunk and a sense of humor, however suffers from an extreme case of inappropriate clothing. When things take a turn from dangerous to worse what will she do when fantasy becomes reality? Warning: May include hot leather clad men, singing and demons.

Buy Links: Now just .99!

Bio:

Jennifer Wylie was born and raised inOntario, Canada. In a cosmic twist of fate she dislikes the snow and cold. Before settling down to raise a family,she attained a BA from Queens University and worked in retail and sales. Thanks to her mother she acquired a loveof books at an early age and began writing in public school. She constantly hasstories floating around in her head, and finds it amazing most people don’t.Jennifer writes various forms of fantasy, both novels and short stories. Sweetlight is her debut novel to be published in 2011. Jennifer resides in rural Ontario, Canadawith her husband, two boys, Australian shepherd a flock of birds and adisagreeable amount of wildlife.

Author Site

Author Blog

Help The Relief Effort In Japan & Read Some Great Fiction from Elizabeth Black

2011-04-09T11:38:00.000-07:00

All proceeds from sales of Fountain of Youth from erotic romanceauthor, Elizabeth Black will go to aid relief in Japan.

The world was shocked by the destruction caused by theSendai earthquake and tsunami that devastated Japan in March 2011. What can awriter do to help?

Searching for a way to help relief efforts,Ms. Black, along with her publisher, Romance Divine, LLC collaborated toearmark all sales of her short erotic story Fountain of Youth through June 15,2011 to be donated to the Red Cross foundation to assist the Japanese in theirrecovery efforts.

Fountain of Youth is particularlyappropriate since it is a M/M erotic short based on a Japanese folk tale. InMs. Black's Americanized version, as in the Japanese original, a lesson islearned – be careful what you wish for.

What if you could have a do-over – asecond chance at love and romance with the object of your heart's desire? Whatwould you wish for? Careful, sometimes wishes do come true but they might notalways be exactly what you expect. Sydney finds romance, and changes afterdiscovering a secret Fountain Of Youth. Find more about this story on Ms.Black's web site.

All proceeds from this short story sold through June 15^thwill be donated to the Red Cross for the relief efforts in Japan.

Author bio: Elizabeth Black is a writer wholives on the Massachusetts coast with her husband, son and four cats. She penserotic romance, erotica, dark fiction and horror. She also writes articlesabout sex and relationships for numerous publications. You may find her at herweb site, and friend her at Facebook.

Romance Divine LLC is a publisher of print, electronic, andaudio books; fiction and non-fiction in a variety of genres.

Romance Divinebooks can be found on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance e-Books, Kobo,Bookstrand, Google Bookstore, Apple iBookstore and other fine on-lineretailers. They are also available at Romance Divine.

ContactInformation:
Elizabeth Black
trishcwilson@comcast.net

Romance Divine, LLC
Gregory Causey, Publisher
rdivinellc@yahoo.com

The Exciting Life of an Author - Not! by F.M. Meredith

2011-04-08T02:39:00.000-07:00

Author F.M. Meredith

To describe most ofmy days as a writer, I am sitting in front of the computer typing away. If noton my work-in-progress, writing a blog for my own blog or for someone else likeI’m doing right now.

Once the first draftis done, the work has only begun. Usually, I begin by reading the novelchapter-by-chapter to my critique group. It’s what I think of as the firstedit. Usually, though, I’ve gone over the chapter before I’ve taken it to thegroup and think it’s in pretty good shape. I’m usually wrong. The member of thegroup who was an Honors English Teacher always finds grammar errors—and she’sgreat at getting rid of unnecessary words. Another gal is good at pointing outsentences that could be rearranged for better clarity. The youngest of ourgroup always finds ways to update the dialogue. Our one and only man iswonderful for pointing out what the male characters would do or say.

The next day I’llwork on that same chapter. I don’t necessarily make each correction assuggested—but I usually do something because if what I wrote caused someone tomake a comment it probably needs work.

Once the whole bookhas been gone over that way, I’ll start over, looking for ways to make itbetter and checking for inconsistencies. I do have a reader I always send mymanuscripts off to who finds even more things that need to be fixed orclarified.

When it’s where Ithink it’s the best it can be, I send it off to my publisher. Because I writetwo series, so far each time I send in a new offering they’ve been accepted.However, this is not the end of the work. Both publishers have editors who willgo over the manuscript again, sending it back to me with more corrections andquestions. I don’t always agree with what they’ve corrected, but I seldom argueover punctuation because each house has it’s own preferences. Often, despiteall the care I took prior to sending the book out, the editors always find morethings to correct.

Once it’s printed,a galley proof will be send to me. This I always print out because it’s easierto find mistakes on a printed page than on the computer screen. Despite all thework we’ve done to make it perfect, more typos and errors have made theirappearance. I think there are gremlins at work who love messing up amanuscript.

Are we done after Isend in the corrections? Sometimes. But with my last book, Angel Lost, thepublisher, Oak Tree Press, decide to print ARC (Advance Reading Copies) that wecould send out for pre-publishing reviews. You guessed it, The ARCs had moreerrors. Where on earth had they come from? Gremlins at work again.

Yes, we wentthrough the ARC carefully to make corrections in the finished product, but westill used them to send out as review copies. Unfortunately, one of the reviewsites commented about all the errors in the book, not explaining that it was anARC. The main part of the review was great though, so I thanked her kindly forthe review.

Maybe you mightthink that’s all exciting, but it’s a lot of work.

Promotion is a lotof work too whether you’re doing it on line or in person. You don’t have to getdressed up to promote online, but it does take a lot of time away from writing.It’s necessary though, if you want people to know about your book.

You do have todress appropriately when you’re doing in-person events—and my big worry iswhether or not I wore the same outfit the last time I did the particular event.Also if photos are going to be taken, I don’t want to have the same clothes onI did the year before. In-person events consist of talks and presentations atlibraries, bookstores, book clubs, schools, writers conferences and mysteryconventions as well as selling my books at book and craft fairs. Though theseare fun to do, again it takes time away from my writing.

What is exciting iswhen someone comes up to me and tells me how much they liked one of my books.

--F.M. Mereditha.k.a. Marilyn Meredith

My latest book is AngelLost from Oak Tree Press.

Blurb: As plans forher perfect wedding fill her mind, Officer Stacey Wilbur is sent out to trap aflasher, the new hire realizes Rocky Bluff P.D. is not the answer to hisproblems, Abel Navarro’s can’t concentrate on the job because of worry abouthis mother, Officer Gordon Butler has his usual upsets, the sudden appearanceof an angel in the window of a furniture store captures everyone’s imaginationand causes problems for RBPD, and then the worst possible happens—will Staceyand Doug’s wedding take place?

In Judgment Fire a battered wife is murdered and Tempe is given a warning by a shaman. She participates in a starlight ceremony, and repressed memories of her own painful high school days help her find the killer.

A shaman warns Deputy Tempe Crabtree her life is in danger. The death of a battered wife leads Tempe to participate in a Native American starlight ceremony that brings back hidden memories of her painful high school days. She attempts to help the delinquent son of the murdered woman, is threatened by his step-father--the primary murder suspect, deals with a man who may be mentally ill, and renews acquaintances with not such good friends from her younger years. A second fire brings judgment to the guilty party.

Serendipity by Ann Duncan

2011-04-01T00:00:00.000-07:00

Author Ann Duncan

Duringa recent attempt to get organized–I have a boxy little six-by-six office thatcontains all my writing and crafting paraphernalia–I found a long-lost bundleof bright green tulle. You know, the “fabric” that looks and feels like plasticnetting. And now it’s sitting in a cabinet in my tiny office, waiting for thisyear’s cutting of Queen Anne’s Lace. (It’s a great way to dry them. You simplyhang the tulle--spread out like a tent top–then poke the stems thru the holesso they can dangle in mid air while the umbel (flower head) rests comfortablyflat. If the holes are too small, tear them wider with your finger or thepointed end of a pair of scissors. After a few weeks, voila! Dried lacy flowersthat will look great amongst your holiday decorations or tucked into a colorfulbouquet. I know, you might be thinking, Why focus on that at this time ofyear. Spring is here but it still feels like winter. I guess I’m in one ofthose moods to plan ahead. (Let’s hope I stay organized and can find itwhen the time comes. Ha).

QueenAnne’s Lace. How can you look at the perfection of it and not feel the fullnessof faith? The unwavering existence of our Creator? How can you not want tofollow Him? His ways? After all, it’s the path that our founding fathersfollowed . . . and look where it brought them: To the creation of the greatest nation on earth! When I see a field ofQueen Anne’s Lace, I can envision George Washington on his knees, praying forguidance, surrounded by the genteel grace of a patch of these flowing flowers.Ever stop to observe them? Once you’ve clipped and dried some, it’ll become anannual event. And you’ll realize, it’salmost Biblical. As if each perfect petal is valiantly awaiting its fate–to besnipped and clipped, to slowly and quietly dry and stiffen . . . at firstsnow-white, then turning a muted ecru. Originally adding grace and beauty to anortheastern hillside, they’ll continue this legacy in the “afterlife”.

You’llnever convince me that Queen Anne’s Lace (Daucus carota), or any other flowerfor that matter, is just an “accident” of nature.

So,here I am. Clean office. Downright organized office! Even my file folders arewithin easy reach in a rolling cart. And I’m writing about Queen Anne’s Lace inMarch? Could be writers’ block, you say, or procrastination. Afterall, you write historical adventures for kids.

“But,”I respond with glee, “this has spurred a new story! My character (who goes backthru time) is going to meet founding father John Jay in his next adventure.And, he will be traveling along the hills and valleys in the state of New York,in the 1700's, where he’ll come upon this great founding father’s estate. And?He’ll be traveling right thru a field of Queen Anne’s Lace. At least I think hewill. Sudden thought, were they actually here then?

Well,I’ll just pull out my research folder (from that nicely organized rolling filecart) and scribble in a new entry: Research the history of Queen Anne’s Lace.

TaDaa! Serendipity at its best.

~ * ~

Ann Rich Duncanis the author of The SEED, a novel of suspense that placed as a top-tenchoice with New Century Writer Awards. She is also the creator and author ofthe (YA) Johnny Vic historical adventure series that has been endorsed byeducators in Vermont and New York. A former radio talk show host, publicrelations specialist, and weekly newspaper publisher, she currently fills herdays working to fulfill the requests of her new literary agent. To see herbooks or to reach her blog, go to her website.

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Treasure Hunter John Victor comes to the chilling conclusion that the essential right to sustain life could be taken away forever if he doesn't stop Alexander Graham Rossweild's people from using The Terminator. It's a formula that could devastate America's farmlands! Poor John, all he wanted to do was unearth a chest of gold that was hidden by Civil War soldiers.

Read an excerpt.

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Ten Reasons Why Rowing is Like Sex & Sometimes Even Better by Christopher Koehler

2011-03-21T00:05:00.000-07:00

10)Face it, it’s not.

9) You can row with minors without a morals charge.

8) Gives head races a whole a new meaning.

7) You can row with seven other people (eight if you countthe…ahem, cox) and no one will say anythingabout it.

6) The only thing you’ll catch from your oar is crabs.

5) In rowing, the red-faced person screaming your name andcorrecting your technique is a coach.

4) The oar is always hard.

3) Cox box. Need I say more?

2) No worries about where that oar’s been.

1) In both, the catch is aggressive, the drive is powerful,the hands are quick, and the slide is smooth.

Thank you, Christopher for enlightening us! Very funny stuff, but if you don't mind, I have to add one for the sex side...you get to lay down while doing it! Christopher also has a new book out entitled Rocking the Boat from Dreamspinner Press.

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Blurb: NickBedford, closeted coach of California Pacific College’s men’s rowing team, isstruggling with professional ethics. He denies his attraction to MorganEstrada, a rower on the crew, though the heated glances between them drive Nickwild. Then Morgan makes a move... and though Nick panics, Morgan gets what hewants: Nick.

Safelyassured that he’s not preying on a younger man, Nick gives in to his feelingsfor Morgan. They take pleasure in sharing their daily routine, and the sex setsthe sheets afire. Everything seems perfect until an anonymous complaint isfiled against Nick right before the biggest race of the year. It’s exactly whatNick has feared most—and it may be enough to capsize the fledglingrelationship.

About the author:

Christopher Koehlerhas had what his mother refers to as an incestuous relationship with bookssince he learned to read, but it wasn't until his grad school years that herealized writing was how he wanted to spend his life. Long something of ahothouse flower, he's been lucky to be surrounded by people who encouraged thattendency and the writing both, especially his long-suffering husband ofnineteen years and counting.

He loves manygenres of fiction and nonfiction, but he's especially fond of romances, becauseit's in them that human emotions and relations, at least most of the ones fitto be discussed publicly, are laid bare.

While writing is hispassion and his life, when he's not doing that, he's a househusband, at-homedad, and oarsman with a slightly disturbing interest in manners and the otherways people behave badly.

Christopher's Site

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I Write, Therefore I Am by Debra Shiveley Welch

2011-01-24T11:11:00.000-08:00

Debra Shiveley Welch

We’ve all experienced it: an itchthat begs to be scratched. You can tryto ignore it, but it only causes the itch to increase, the desire to scratch toescalate. This is how I have

felt aboutwriting since age nine.

Maybe it is because I fell inlove with words: words like kick and wend, Llewellyn and bang. Delicious sounds, which please the inner earand make one want to find more words – ear candy as it were. So, I began to write, mostly about a littlegirl who found a puppy and was allowed to keep it. My mother never caught on.

As I grew and matured, my writingbranched out to poetry, essays, articles for newsletters and newspapers, andshort stories. I actually had anewspaper column for a while. I loved it;I immersed myself in it, like slipping my body into a warm, fragrant bubblebath.

I married and realized theexquisite joy of motherhood. Myhappiness fed my muse and I began to write books, my first being a children’sstory about adoption, written for my beautiful son.

The success of beingtraditionally published was heady. Mygreat uncle, Judge A.Z. Blair, was a published author, but until A Very Special Child, he held thatsingular distinction within our family. I had to keep on, and so wrote a murder mystery, Jesus Gandhi Oma Mae Adams, with my cousin, and then at mypublisher’s request, a memoir, Son of MySoul – The Adoption of Christopher. At first, I was reluctant. Mychildhood was traumatic and lonely, and I did not want to revisit thosetimes. And yet, there was my son, then15, who I felt needed to know about his mother.

How many times have we thought, I wish I’d asked Grandma about that. I wish I’d asked my mother about herchildhood. Chris would know. I would write it down for him.

***

Excerpt:

I cannot give you a bloodline: afamily tree of ancestors reaching back for hundreds of years. I cannot say,“You look like your grandfather,” or “You got that from me.” What I can giveyou is a spiritual heritage: an existence that lived long before you were born.

I will weave the fabric of my ownstory into yours, for although I did not give birth to you, I gave you a life.This history of mine, and of yours, interweavesinto a cloth so strong, nothing can tear it.

You are my son, my love, my joy,and through my history, you will learn yours, and perhaps…your future. It may be that at times you will look backand judge me as too stern, or too demanding. If so, I hope you will remember these pages, and you will understand.

Therefore, my sweet son, I offeryou these writings and give to you – you.

Mama

***

I was thrilled when my memoir wonfour awards. My heart’s writing to myboy was deemed worthy of awards! Talkabout affirmation! That was when thewriting bug dug its teeth into my soul and bit hard!

As I wrote earlier, I have alwaysloved words. Upon my meeting my futureadoptive sister, I began a love affair with new sounds, new words: the languageof the Lakota Plains Native Americans. The years followed and my sister and I grew to love each other. Adoption, or Hunkapi (Hoon-kah-pee) or theMaking of Relatives Ceremony followed, and I began to learn of her culture,beliefs and ceremonies. I wasmesmerized! What beauty, what poetry,what wisdom existed within my sister and her people – now my people byadoption. I had to write about it! CedarWoman was born.

***

Excerpts:

Slowly, slowly,Grandfather Sun began his ascent. Gliding, floating, he moved above the horizon as blue and lavender andmauve filled the sky.

Birdsong married with fragrant air, asWakan Tanka[1] stretched His fingers across the sky,pushing back the night, heralding the dawning of a new day.

* * *

Lena“bathed” herself with the fragrant fumes. Cupping her hand, and capturing the floating ribbons of smoke, shepassed them over her head, shoulders, torso, and under each foot.

Facing the west, she extended the smokingbowl and intoned: “Grandfather of the West, this is Cedar Woman, I ask that youkeep my feet true and on the Good Red Road.[2]I ask that you guide me on this day, and all days, so that I may continue onthis path. I ask that you help in my daily life. Mitakuye oyasin, we are all related. She next turned to the north and offered the same prayer toGrandfather of the North, Grandfather of the East and then of the South. Lifting the bowl to the heavens, sherepeated her prayer to Father Sky.

Kneeling, the bowl in front of her, herhands on the floor on each side of her body, she sent her prayer to MotherEarth.

Finally, she again raised the stillsmoking bowl to the sky and added a personal plea: “Creator, this is CedarWoman. I ask that you keep my feet true and on the Good Red Road. I ask thatyou guide me on this day and all days so that I may continue on this path. Iask that you help in my daily life. I ask you that I may feed all people andthat my venture here will be successful.” Lena placed the still smoldering bowl on a table and sat, slowlyrelaxing, her mind, body and spirit in harmony.

* * *

“Cate sice hemaca,[3]Sunka Gleska.[4]” Logan hung his head, too ashamed to meet thefaithful dog’s eyes again.

* * *

Standing at 5’11”,with long, blue-black hair, Sonny was a striking figure in a white cottonshirt, turquoise bolo tie and jeans. Polished Western boots and a black cattleman cowboy hat caused many a youngwoman present to catch her breath in awe. His deep, brown eyes sparkled with humor and intelligence as he deftlyheld the crowd with his deep, resonant voice.

“For those of you here who are not NdN[5],I will explain what is happening here today,” Sonny continued, his voicemelodic, his manner regal.

“Since the first memories, it has alwaysbeen such: if a loved one was lost through death, or moved away, it was notuncommon for an individual, or a family, to adopt someone to fill the emptyplace left by the departed family member. Similarly, if a person had no siblings, or family members, the situationcould be remedied through the same means.

“The Making of Relatives Ceremony, orHunkapi, was celebrated last night, and is a rite not entered into lightly andmeant to last for life.

“Today we witness the celebration of theadoption of a daughter, and she is here today to show her thanks to her newfamily.”

***

Writing Cedar Woman was an exhilarating experience and truly caused me tobecome completely addicted to this form of writing: the novel. And so…I continue.

[1]Wah-kah Than-kah – Mysterious Creator

[2]The Good Red Road – To walk in balance. To follow the rules of Creator.

[3]Chahn tday see chay hay mahn chah –sorrowing I am

[4]Shoon kah glay shkah – Spotted Dog

[5]Preferred spelling for Indian

A Master Storyteller

"Debra Shiveley Welch is a master storyteller. I find her writing to be very much on the order of what is considered, in old terms, a true storyteller, one that takes the nucleus and expands it to take on all the senses -- I can see what she sees, hear what she hears, smell and taste what she smells and tastes. Most importantly, though, I feel what she feels." Linda J. Alexander

Twisting That Alpha Male Around Her Little Finger by Tina Donahue

2010-12-29T03:12:00.000-08:00

Don’t you just love aromance where the guy is dead set on what he does or doesn’t want and digs inhis heels when the lady hopes he’ll do something else?

Ah, the conflict.Delicious. Delectable. Damn near sexy at times.

Of course, withoutconflict, the romance wouldn’t have those wonderful sparks between thecharacters. Those moments when a reader is on the edge of her seat, muttering,“Come on, do it, damn you. See things her way.”

That’s the tone I struckin the beginning of Sensual Stranger, mynewest erotic romance released December 15^th. Although Zach’s superattracted to Toni (as she is to him), he’s not about to react to his needs forvarious reasons. The interplay between them is luscious as she gets him to dowhat she wants.

Here’s the blurb and anexcerpt to show you what I mean.

BLURB:

Intohis life she came—wanting…willing…wanton

It’s no ordinary morning when Toni Starr arrives at Zach’sgarage. Flat broke, with a past she won’t share, Toni’s instantly taken by sucha potently virile man. Direct and unashamed, she tells him she’s a motorcycleperformance artist who needs work and knows motors.

Zach knows women, and Toni’s unlike any he’s met. Lushlysensuous, exceedingly assured, she’d easily be his match in business and bed. Aprovocative challenge that stirs him as nothing has since losing his wife. Achance he’s reluctant to take, offering no more than a month’s employment, thenshe’ll have to be on her way.

The hours tick by. Each word and glance intensifies theirdenied yet escalating desire, forcing them to surrender to passion and Toni’sneed for Zach’s dominance. Driven by carnal hunger, conquered by yearning, theyface the unforeseen truth of Toni’s past and a future neither of them expected.

EXCERPT: (In this scene, Zach has just turned down Toni’s requestfor a job, which she needs desperately. Instead, he’s offered to buy herbreakfast).

Toni watchedthe woman leave, then tilted her head to the menu, keeping her attention on it,not him, as Zach finally took his seat.

She allowedhim enough time to get comfortable before asking, “Whatever I want?”

He teased,“Within reason.”

Toni lookedat him from beneath her lashes. “Define reason, Zach.”

He hadn’tthought it possible, but her voice was throatier than he recalled, herguileless expression more provocative than the most blatant come-on. Not forthe first time in her presence, Zach had trouble pulling in a full breath. Whatlittle air he did manage to take bore her unmistakable lavender scent.

She musthave sprayed more of the fragrance on her throat and wrists while she’d been inthe ladies’ room. Mixed with the heat of her skin, the scent brought to mind afield of flowers caressed by the summer sun, mist rising from the fragrantearth, naked flesh stretched out on a blanket, tongues meeting, legs entwined,a cock nestled within a juicy, heated sheath.

Define reason, she’d said.

Zach hadn’ta clue as to what that might be. It sure as hell wasn’t what was happening tohim at this moment. Even though his mind kept saying ‘get a grip’, every cellin his body remained at attention for her. “Where you from?” he blurtedsuddenly, needing to know. “Originally?” he thought to add.

A longmoment passed before she lowered her menu to the table. “Why?” She forced thesudden caution off her face, replacing it with a lazy smile. “You worried Idon’t have a social security number? That I’m not authorized to work in thiscountry?”

Zach nearlysmiled at her tenacity in wanting a job. But only for a month, he remindedhimself—four short weeks so she could get her bike out of prison and zoom awaynever to be seen again. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Her gazeslid to the right of him, her expression hiding whatever she thought. “I’m froma lot of places.”

Zach waitedfor her to add details, even though he figured she would not. He regarded theends of her hair skimming her throat, the hollow between her breasts, her erectnipples pushing against her stretchy cotton tank, the hard buds reacting to theblast of chilled air pouring from the vent above them.

“I wantthat,” she said.

At thelonging in her voice, Zach followed her gaze to a nearby table, seeing a youngman and woman with two preschool children. Their blond good looks and innocentsmiles made them a Norman Rockwell portrait of the perfect family from thefifties.

At Toni’squiet sigh, Zach turned back to her.

Herexpression and voice remained distracted as she said, “I haven’t had whippedcream on waffles in a long time.”

Again, heregarded the couple, noticing the woman’s plate heaped with a mound of thesweet treat.

“I’d alsolike what the guy’s eating,” Toni said. “That omelet looks really good.”

Zach gentledhis voice. “Get whatever you want.”

Toni lookedat him.

His heartmade a weird twist at the yearning he saw in her eyes, followed by her flare ofdesire, so naked and wanting it rendered him helpless to glance away. She worethe look of a woman who’d deny him nothing, who’d willingly explore their needswherever he demanded.

Intensewarmth settled in Zach’s chest and throat. His scalp tingled.

Toni crossedher legs, her foot brushing his calf, remaining there. Zach didn’t move hisleg. Their eyes remained locked. Silence embraced them, feeling somehow right,while the rest of the restaurant hummed with activity and sound. Johnny Cashsang Ring of Fire, theair-conditioner’s fan whooshed out cold air, utensils clacked against plates,people gabbed and laughed.

“So, you twodecided yet?” Em asked, intruding upon them, delivering the pitcher he’d askedfor.

Zach poureda glass of the ice water, pushing it toward Toni. “Ladies first.”

Her cheekspinked up.

“So, what doyou want?” Em asked.

Toni loweredher gaze to the menu, her expression saying she suddenly recalled it. Headlifted to Em, she blurted, “A job. I’ll waitress or wash dishes or clean theplace. Your choice.”

Clearlysurprised, Em looked at Zach.

“Do you ownthis place too?” Toni asked him, dismay in her voice.

Em laughed.“No, hon. I own it with my husband, Hector. He’s the cook.”

“I can helphim,” Toni said.

Zachcountered, “I thought you were a mechanic, at least when you’re not being adaredevil.”

“A what?” Emasked.

“I’m amechanic and a motorcycle performance artist, when I’m employed,” Toniretorted, then turned back to Em. “I’m not saying I can cook, but I can followa recipe. It’s not rocket science, right?”

Em restedher hand on her ample hip. The lines above her nose got seriously nasty withher frown. “To Hector, it is. He’s very proud of what he does.”

“I won’tscrew it up, I swear,” Toni said. “All I want is a chance to earn some money.”She craned her head. “Is that Hector?” She pointed across the room to therectangular window that revealed the guts of the kitchen. Hector, swarthy andsweating, alternately cooked and directed the younger man at his side. “Maybewe can talk.”

“I don’tthink so, hon.” Em didn’t move, which effectively blocked Toni from leaving herseat. “Like Zach said, you’re a mechanic. Better stick with what you know.”

“Even if itmeans I’ll starve? Look, it’s only for a month,” she added quickly, “until Ican make enough to get my bike out of impound.”

“Outtawhere?” Em asked.

“It’s a longstory,” Zach said.

Toni’s headswung to him.

He inhaleddeeply of her lavender scent. Arousal hit him hard and fast, along with a rushof tenderness at the desperation he saw in her eyes. How far had she’d walkedtoday before reaching Indulgence? Who’d given her a ride when she’d hitched?Hadn’t she worried about hooking up with a stranger who could possibly be apsychopath? Hadn’t she cared? Or were such concerns only for young woman whohad families to care about them and money to protect them from harm?

“Please,”Toni said to Em. “I’ll do whatever odd jobs you have around here. I’ll—“

Zach cut in.“A month, no more than that.”

“—workhard—what?” she asked, interrupting herself.

He pushedhis paper napkin and utensils to the right and back to the left. “I’ll give youa month at my place. Standard wage.”

Toni’s eyesrounded in surprise. A smile blossomed across her face.

It’s thefirst time, but certainly not the last, that Toni brings Zach around to herside. J

To celebrate the release of SensualStranger, I’m offering a contest today. One lucky commenter will have herchoice of one of my following books**:

1. Lush Velvet Nights – ebook

2. Adored – ebook

3. Deep, Dark, Delicious – ebook

4. Close to Perfect – mass market paperback

5. Bad Boys with Red Roses – trade paperback

6. Take My Breath Away – trade paperback

** Winner chosen atrandom. Winner in continental US has her choice of one of the six. Winner outside continental UShas her choice of one of the ebooks

Sensual Stranger is available now!!

Buy Link

Email

Website/blog

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Genre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance

Other Books by Tina Donahue:

Author Bio:
Tina Donahue is a multi–published novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work; she has reached finals and /or placed in numerous RWA–sponsored contests. Just recently, three of her erotic novels were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper, worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company, and is currently the Managing Editor for a global business document concern.

Originality by Julian Adorney

2010-12-05T11:07:00.000-08:00

“I stand at the end of no tradition. I stand, perhaps, at the beginning ofone”. These immortal words were utteredby Howard Roark, hero of Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead. Like Howard Roark, Ayn Rand stood at the end of notradition. Her books were whollyoriginal, and have sold over 25 million copies to date.

Aswriters, we are continually given the same advice: if you want to sell, write atwist on something pre-existing. WriterLawrence Block sums up his view of what makes a book sellable in four words:“the same only different”. It must havea twist or a new outlook, but primarily it must be similar to something alreadyin print.

The mainargument for this claim is that editors and publishers don’t know what to dowith genuinely original material. Editors don’t know where it fits in the marketplace. Publishers don’t know how to market a storyunlike anything they’ve ever seen. Thus,if you want a career as a writer, you must write something that is “the sameonly different” from the rest of the market. That at least is the myth.

But theevidence suggests that the opposite is true. Rather than original writers, itis those writers of derivative work who are plagued by a mediocre reputationand lackluster sales. I won’t namenames, but I’ve read several books that have very little new tocontribute. One I read two months agocomes to mind: it was a cheap take-off of Robert Heinlein’s “StarshipTroopers”. It was 300 pages of an oldstory, just retold. The ideas weretired, the characters had been written before. The only thing it had to offer in the way of originality was a newauthor’s name on the byline.

Thosestories do not sell well. I know; I’vemet a few of their creators. Theiradvances are typically under $10,000, and their sell-through is a little over50%. Not great numbers.

Accordingto agent and writer Donald Maass, when there’s a recession, derivative worksare the first things on the chopping block. No-one wants to shell out hard-earned money for a book they’veessentially read before by a different author, particularly when money’s hardto come by. As a result, in recessions,sales dwindle. Editors, responding the law of supply and demand, quit buyingderivative works. And even in beareconomies, unoriginal works don’t sell particularly well.

If youdecide to write “the same only different”, you run another risk as well:constrainment of ideas. Rather thanplumb the wondrous depths of your mind for ideas, you are asked to write onlywhat has been written before. You are toldthat the story you had about vampires in space is unviable, not because it’snot intriguing, but because it’s too original. As someone who got into this business to give my mind free reign, I findthis sort of control at times stifling.

Bycontrast, if you write original work, if you stand “at the end of notradition”, than you can fully utilize the rich realm of ideas that is yourmind. You can write about vampires inspace (or sentient buildings, or what have you), not in spite of those ideas’originality but because of it.

You willalso do better financially. Ayn Rand,as mentioned above, copied no other writers. Indeed, she wrote her stories largely because of the lack of similarfiction. Today, she’s sold 25 millioncopies, and she’s a household name. Philip K Dick essentially invented the genre of drug-focused sciencefiction, and today one of the most prestigious awards in science fiction is thePhilip K Dick Award. Stephen Kingcreated the modern horror story, and today he makes $45million a year.

My pointis this: if you want to have an ordinary career as a midlist novelist, than byall means write derivative fiction. Write “the same only different”. Your career may not blaze, but you will at least be a professionalwriter (possibly). But, if you wantyour career to blaze; if you want to sell millions of copies; if you don’t wantto water down your ideas for a pre-existing market; if you want to see otherwriters imitating you instead of theother way around; than I suggest you try to write something original. Be the next Ayn Rand. Do for your genre what Philip K Dick did forscience fiction.

You maynot succeed. Certainly, for everyStephen King out there, there are hundreds of failures. But even if you failed, you can go down knowingthat you shot for the stars.

Blurb: So what happens when those promises turn out NOT to deliver? Such is the case with the protagonist in Julian Adorney’s “Deals,” a new literary short story available today from Untreed Reads. In “Deals,” James is determined to provide a comfortable life for his family, but when his college degree fails to provide the goods he finds himself making deals he hadn’t ever imagined.

Now available from Untreed Reads

Also check out Julian's story Murder in The Cynic online magazine.

Author Bio: Julian Adorney has been a writer since third grade, when hi teacher made the class write a fantasy story and he was hooked. Since then, most of his life has revolved around writing: Julian has written short stories, taken writing workshops, and is an English major from University of Colorado at Boulder. His other fiction can be read at Untreed Reads Publishing ('Deals') Shadowcast Audio Anthology ('Souls & Snowboarding'), and Cynic Online Mag (‘Murder’). His latest piece, ‘Freedom’, about a young man who breaks free from his Machiavellian lover, will be published in 2011 by Gypsy Shadow Publishing.

When not writing, Julian enjoys hiking and getting together with friends.

R. Ann Siracusa’s Travelblog: Rome, Italy

2010-06-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

My two favorite activities are traveling the world and writing fiction, and my “brand” is combining those loves into novels which transport readers to exotic settings, immerse them in romance, intrigue and foreign cultures, and make them laugh.

I travel because, as an architect, I’m fascinated by ancient cultures and the ways in which they manifest their natures in architecture, building systems, and design. Upon graduation from UC Berkeley with a degree in architecture, I lived and worked in Rome, Italy for a number of years and there married a Sicilian policeman. (That’s another whole story.) After we came to the U.S., we made frequent trips to Italy and Sicily to visit family and friends, and that started the “travel juices” flowing. At the time, I had no clue that my interest would eventually inspire writing novels set in foreign lands. But here I am!

Rome - The Eternal City

Of all the places I’ve been, my favorite city is still Rome. Perhaps because I lived there, know my way around, and have many wonderful memories of falling in love and getting married. The smog can be bad, it’s miserably hot in the summer, the traffic is a disaster…and I love it.

Actually, traveling in Italy (and most of Europe) is not all that different from traveling in the United States. You can always find someone who speaks English, and you can buy most of the same things there as you can in the States. Even many of the television programs are the same, including the Italian version of Dancing with the Stars. But, of course, Rome has a history that goes back nearly three thousands years (although the city itself was founded in 753 B.C.) and incredible architecture and art. (Sorry about the quality of the photos. Most of them come from my private collection over the years, and I’m not that great a photographer.)

Rome as viewed from the Pincio

Vatican City

One of the highlights of Rome is a visit to Vatican City, which is actually a landlocked sovereign city-state whose territory (110 acres) consists of a walled enclave within the city of Rome, the capital city of Italy, with a population of just over 800.

St. Peter’s Basilica, within the Vatican, is the largest church in the world (except perhaps the Basilica of Yamoussoukro). The Vatican museum and the church contain many art works worth seeing, including the Sistine Chapel. Both my daughter and oldest son were baptized in St. Peter’s Basilica.

(St. Peter’s Basilica and Castel Sant’Angelo)

(The Pietá)

(The Sistine Chapel)

(The interior portico vault)

   (The Pope after mass, Nov.2009)

(Interior of St. Peter's dome)

(Exterior of the dome)

The dome of the Basilica, designed by Michelangelo, was only partially completed when he died in 1564. The valuting was completed in 1593 by architect Giacomo Della Porta assisted by engineer Domenico Fontana. The dome is actually a double dome (an inner skin and an outer skin) made of brick, 138 feet in diameter (interior dome) and rising 393 feet above the floor. Tourists used to be allowed to climb from the base of the dome to the cupola on top between the two skins. The space was about twenty inches wide, and you could only go up in one direction and down in the other direction. The last time I went up was in 1982 (I don’t think I could fit between the shells now), and I doubt that is still permitted. When I visited Rome in 2005, it was so crowded we had to stand in line for two hours to see the Sistine chapel, and then we were herded through like sheep. If you intend to go to Rome, go off season if you can. It’s very beautiful at Christmas time (but cold). It actually snowed one of the winters I was there (the first time in fifty years).

Other “Don’t Miss” places to visit

Other “Don’t Miss” sights in Rome include the Fountain of Trevi, the Roman Forum and Colosseum, the catacombs, the Spanish Steps, and the list goes on and on.

The Fountain of Trevi at night

(Trevi)

   (S.Callisto Catacombs)

(Interior of the Roman Colosseum)

(The Spanish Steps)

(Piazza Barberini)

Working in Rome in the sixties and seventies

For several years, I worked for the Societá Generale Immobiliare, a land development company (owned by the Vatican) that planned and developed housing and new towns throughout Italy and other countries. At that time, their planning and architecture office was just up the street from Piazza Barberini―that was where my bus stopped. Then I walked up a fairly steep hill in three inch spiked hi-heels that always stuck in between the cobblestones when crossing the streets. You can’t imagine how many heels I broke that way.
My office was directly across the street from the barracks of the Carabinieri (military police) who served as a special guard for the President. They had a division of mounted Carabinieri who kept their horses in the compound. There was no such thing as air conditioning in the 1960s, so in the summer we kept the windows open. Man, did it stink! I remember one time my boss come into my office when I had tissues wedged up my nose because of the smell. He was not impressed.

In those days, most Italians worked Monday through Friday from 8 am to 1 pm, had a three-hour lunch break, then came back at 4 pm and worked until 7 pm. On Saturdays we worked from 8 am to 1 pm (2 pm for many workers). During the summer, when it was hot, the lunch break was 3 ½ hours, and we worked until 7:30 in the evening. For most Italians, the heaviest meal came at mid-day and afterward, during the hottest part of they day, they took naps before going back to work. They ate a light dinner around 9 pm. That was fairly standard throughout southern Europe.

In my opinion, the long lunch break was a disaster. All businesses, museums, shops, everything except restaurants, were closed during the three hour period so there was nothing to do except go home. That probably worked when cities were small and people lived close to their work, but not in modern cities. The result was four commute trips per day, rather than two, with only enough time to get home on the bus or subway (very few people drove their cars to work if they had a car), fix lunch, clean up the dishes, and catch the bus back to work. (No crock pots or microwave ovens, either. Lots of families didn’t own refrigerators.) Now, work hours are substantially the same as in the States and Italians have the same electronic conveniences as we do.

(Piazza Esedra)

Piazza Esedra, also called Piazza Della Republica, is one of my personal favorites because that’s where I met my husband-to-be on the first day I arrived in Rome. Before air conditioning―which is still not common in most Italian homes―in the afternoons and evenings, Romans would sit and relax around the fountains because the water spray provided a bit of relief from the sweltering heat. The fountain in the center of the piazza, la Fontana delle Naiadi, also call the Fountain of Love, is where I met him. Truth be known, I sat down next to him because I thought he was so good looking. Two months later, I had to look up the word fidanzata in the English-Italian dictionary to find out I was engaged. It’s great to be young and in love!

(My husband and I met at The Fountain of Love in Rome)

Even in the 1980s, all the upper floors of the buildings that form a semi-circle around the piazza were empty and abandoned. There has been a rent control law in Rome since the early 1900s. These buildings (condominiums where apartments/offices are owned by various individuals) are so old that the owners would rather abandon them than go to the expense of upgrading to a more modern standard of liveability and only be able to charge a limited amount for rent.

That’s all for now. Come visit with me again some time. Just let me know where you’d like to go.

TRAVEL TO FOREIGN LANDS FOR ROMANCE AND INTRIGUE with a novel by R. Ann Siracusa http://www.rannsiracusa.com

Book Title: ALL FOR A FIST FULL OF ASHES
(The second book in a humorous romantic suspense series "Harriet Ruby: Tour Director Extraordinaire.")
Author: R. Ann Siracusa
Author Link
Publisher: Sapphire Blue Publishing
Buy Link
Format: E-book
Genre: Humor/Romantic/Suspense
Blurb:

I’m Harriet Ruby: Tour Director Extraordinaire. At least, I thought I was worthy of that title.

My first mistake: Agreeing to conduct a private tour of Italy. Fourteen Italian-Americans from New Jersey? All family, for three weeks, with four teenagers? What was I thinking? Fate responds to my engraved invitation by placing one of the family under surveillance as a suspect in an assassination plot, and who is assigned to the case? None other than my favorite drop-dead-gorgeous spy, Will Talbot.

My second mistake: Allowing Will to coax an invitation from the family matriarch to join the tour.

And that was just the beginning. The matriarch, searching for the unknown location of her mother's grave so she can bury her brother’s cremated ashes (which have been smuggled into Italy wrapped in Cuban cigars), and her quirky family members sweep through Italy leaving chaos, hilarity, and danger in their wake.

Author Bio:

R. ANN SIRACUSA is involved in many activities, but her two favorite are traveling the world and writing fiction. This talented author combines those loves into novels which transport readers to exotic settings, immerse them in romance, intrigue, and foreign cultures, and give them a good laugh.
After receiving a degree in Architecture from UC Berkeley, she traveled to Italy. There she worked in Rome for an Italian architecture and urban planning firm and married the Sicilian policeman she met at the Fountain of Love on her first day there. When she and her husband returned to the United States, they settled down to career and family. But the travel bug never left her. While working for over thirty years in her chosen career, she made time to travel and began to write fiction that incorporated many of her experiences and observations.

Today, she is retired, lives in San Diego, California, and writes full time (which is as many hours as an Italian husband, three grown children, and eight grandchildren will allow on any given day). She has been active in Romance Writers of America since 1985 and recently served two terms as Co-president of the San Diego RWA Chapter and one term as Treasurer.

(I hope that isn't too long. I'm afraid I lack the "pithy" gene. Each of the books in the series takes place in a different country where I've traveled. I writing book 5 right now and its set in South Africa, Zimbabwe, and Botswana where I travel in 2008.)

Kick-starting My Muse by Gracen Miller

2010-06-02T02:29:00.000-07:00

I’ve had it! *plants inconspicuous bombs around my prickly muse* Consider this war, buddy-boy! WAR!!! Think you can keep me from writing? Think again! Even if it is gobble-d-goop, I’m still going to write without you! *mumbles about the fickleness of muses*
With a recent run of bad luck lately, instead of DM (an anagram for the name of my muse) going on a temporary vacation, I do believe he’s retired instead. As I lay siege to DM’s iron-clad fortress known as writer’s block, I thought I’d contemplate a few ways that would cajole him back to his post and help me write. Here are my five favorite bribes…erm...enticements to encourage him to return to his job:

5 – Chocolate! Chocolate cures all in large quantities, right? LOL Well, it should! *pouts over the injustice of life* Unfortunately, I’ve gone on the B12 shots to help me drop a few pounds (honestly, quite a bit more than a “few pounds”) since diet and exercise haven’t worked, but only kept me stalled at the same weight for a year so that my cardiologist could fuss at my yearly checkup. And now that I’ve eliminated 13 pounds in 4 weeks, I have no desire to splurge in my favorite pastime—eating chocolate. Strangely, I haven’t even craved the stuff. Hmm…ponders the disturbing thought that the real me has been transplanted by aliens with a cloned me. ;-) Or maybe, the B12 shots hardwire your brain for healthy food! *blink, blink*

4 – A weekend (or a week, whichever is needed…most likely a week is on the agenda) alone, without drama, family chatter, housework, taxiing sons between sporting practices, and juggling paralegal work! Just a weekend (or week) to rest, relax and reboot my brain so that it can process all the stuff the muse normally throws at it. Being a realist, I realize that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I leave for vacation with my family soon, so I’m stressing pretty big. Yikes! Too much to get done before the vacation trip!! And then when the vacation starts, there won’t be any alone time forthcoming until school starts up in August. *whimpers at the feeling of muse doom*

3 – Taking a defibrillator to DM’s cold, cruel, fickle heart! *shudders* Yeah, not a good option for the obvious reason that DM is in my head!

2 – Meditating! Actually, this is probably the best idea yet. My meditation is informal, but it does help spark DM into action. When I meditate, I pick the storyline I want to focus on, crawl beneath the covers of my bed and let the world drop away as the focal point transitions into a stream of information and ideas. Sometimes I’ll hover in limbo between waking and sleep, BUT it always works! And, best of all, it doesn’t require chocolate, a weekend of aloneness or painful electrical shocks!

1 – Telling DM I will write whatever he wants without any interference or complaints on my end! LOL That should perk him up fast since we war often over the direction of a storyline. A dangerous promise though. :-/ But one, I’m almost willing to make if DM will return to me and permanently remove ‘grumpy me’ from existence!

So, tell me what’s your cure all for a muse hiatus? Or are you one of the lucky ones that doesn’t suffer from writer’s block?
Thanks for letting me join you today, Rie! Now, everyone go kick-start your muse into writing!

Title: Elfin Blood
Author: Gracen Miller
Author Website
Buy Link
Publisher: Noble Romance Publishing
Genre: Paranormal/Erotic/Romance

Blurb: Scorned by her own kind for her half-breed elf status, Julija lives a lonely existence among her Ivory Elf kin. She is the only one the elves can trust when a magical book on elf lore is stolen. Relegated to steal the Book from the vampire thief, Landau Jamieson, she's surprised to discover he has the ability to walk in daylight. Refusing to be deterred by developing setbacks, she’s committed to executing the heist for an Ivory King who grows more desperate to possess the Book. Nothing about the vampire is as it appears and Julija begins to doubt her mission. Worse, she begins to worry she won't have the strength to guard her heart from her sworn enemy.

Landau is fascinated by the elf stalking him and baffled by the erotic hunger she elicits in him. After all, he’s been impotent for ten thousand years. Soon he discovers the lovely sprite is a pawn in a dangerous game—orchestrated by none other than a reviled enemy from his past. She blind-sides him with her beauty and her magical powers, the least of which is the spell she casts on his heart, as the sinister plot unfolds. What started out as folly to catch a thief, blossoms into a love that casts aside bloodlines and erases all boundaries.

A Doggie's Tale by Berengaria Brown

2010-05-18T05:14:00.000-07:00

Do you like your hero or heroine to have a pet ortwo? Does it make them more real to you if they cuddle a kitty after yelling attheir true love? Or cry into their horse’s mane? Or maybe she owns a reallyclever pet bird that frightens away a would-be bad guy? Do you like the thoughtof your hunky hero going for a run with his dog?

I can think of one mystery author who alwaysincludes a cat or two in her books and the cats’ characters are every bit asvivid as that of the humans. And sometimes far more interesting to me, as areader too.

I know of another author who adores animals and itshows in every line she writes about her shapeshifter wolves.

Then there are books I’ve read with a petintroduced in chapter one and never mentioned again in the book. I’m alwaysleft wondering, “What happened to the pet when the lovers hooked up? Is the petgoing to get an HEA or not?”

There are a group of well-known authors who havewritten entire series of books where the hero or heroine is basically just afoil for the animal character that solves the mystery/ saves the world. That isanother entire genre of book

According to the God of all Knowledge, WikiAnswers,63% of American households have a pet, the vast majority of them either a dogand/or a cat. Hamsters, fish, mice, guinea pigs, birds, snakes, bunnies,iguanas and ferrets are all in the top ten pets depending on who you believe.

So this is where I came in. If so many people ownpets do they want to read about them in their books? Because they have a pet dothey feel better if the hero/heroine has a pet?

Or do they see pets as something a kid needs togrow up with, rather like a bike and a football? Or just another householdchore to perform? Do the laundry, cook the supper, walk the dog?

Many animals offer their human endless love, trustand companionship. They don’t fuss about unwashed blankets or unironedclothing. They adore being petted and at least pretend to listen when you talk tothem. But does this uncomplaining attitude then make the hero or heroine lookbad when they are upset at how their lover is treating them?

So what do you think? Should book characters bepet-owners? Or is this likely to make them be less appealing to their lover?After all, it is hardly romantic for the heroine to say, “I can’t go outwithout you tonight. I have to clean out the bird cage.”

I think, for authors, it comes down to the oldsaying “write what you know”. If you adore animals it will show in how youwrite them and the reader will love to read about Spot and Fluffy. If youconsider the horse as just something that needs to be brushed from bite tokick, it’s better to avoid putting that in your novel. And readers respond tothis. They love to read about genuine animal characters and their relationshipwith the hero and heroine. But the heroine’s pet that only appears in chapterone as a quick-fix solution to move the plot along—the reader sees rightthrough that and feels cheated.

Title: Intensity

Author: Berengaria Brown

Author Site

Publisher: Siren Bookstrand

Buy Link

Trailer Link

http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

Blurb: [Menage Amour: Erotic Paranormal Menage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, public exhibition, sex toys]

Amos, Wesley and Keziah have been bed partners for a while. Amos and Wesley want Keziah to move in with them and become a permanent partner but she has refused, wanting to be independent. Then she stands up for her friend and loses her job.

Amos and Wesley convince her to move in with them and plan to screw her insensible to make her want to stay. But chaos erupts at the company board meeting as Amos’s incompetent father tries to use the ménage as a weapon to take control of the company from Amos, so Keziah decides the only solution is for her to leave. And the ghost has his own agenda…

Organization for the Beginning Writer by Fran Shaff

2010-04-14T02:39:00.000-07:00

Many times when I’m elbow deep in writing a first draft I forget simple things about my characters like the cut of his hair or the color of her eyes. Sometimes I even forget a main character's name! Shame on me. Maybe if I worked on only one book at a time…but I don’t.

Writing a book is a complicated process. Whether she is writing a story, book, or screenplay, here is some advice a beginning author may find helpful.
When fleshing out character traits, it’s a good idea to put the names of all characters and their physical characteristics on individual note cards. If the author forgets the eye color of the troll in chapter two when he reappears in chapter five, all he needs to do to remember is refer to his note card.

The same goes for settings. If a writer uses a note card for each room, vehicle, garden, etc. he describes, he’ll easily be able to recall the color of the sofa his hero was sitting on in chapter one when he returns to sit on it in chapter ten.

Using a storyboard or writing a brief description of each scene and/or chapter in a notebook or on note cards helps the author remember how certain techniques were used or in what order events transpired. If a writer forgets whether or not he’d foreshadowed a chapter fifteen event in chapter four, he can refer to his notes or the storyboard to be sure he’d written his story as he’d intended. It saves time while he’s in the throes of creation.

If proper preparation and note taking make a writer’s job easier when she’s writing one book, imagine how helpful note cards, storyboards, etc are when she decides to write a sequel or a series.

One more tip about writer organization: keep those note cards and that storyboard handy. They only help if a writer has ready access to them.
-----------------------------------
Fran Shaff is the author of more than a dozen contemporary and historical romances and young people’s books. Get a free download of her acclaimed historical romanceChange of Heart at: www.smashwords.com/books/view/8911 Visit her web page at: http://sites.google.com/site/fshaff She has two contemporary romances released May, 2010, Kelly and the Candidate and Stolen Son.

Stolen Son

By Fran Shaff

Contemporary Romance

Romance Reader at Heart Top Pick Award Winner

Paperback Edition, Create Space

ISBN: 9781438267821

E-book, Smashwords.com

Available at Amazon.com, bn.com, smashwords.com, kobo.com and other Internet locations

For excerpts, reviews, buy links and more about Stolen Son, go to: http://sites.google.com/site/franshaffsstolenson

BLURB: For five years Ella Mason has mourned the kidnapping of her infant son. When Rafe Wallace enters her life, her dreary days begin to fill with sunshine. Hope, dreams, fantasy, love--emotions she’d never expected to find again become a part of her soul, thanks to Rafe’s tenderness and affection. But does he have an ulterior motive for establishing their relationship? And what does he have to do with her “Stolen Son?”

Writing: Destiny or Desire? by Arlene Knowell

2010-04-07T00:54:00.000-07:00

It is odd, the way life works out. It is as if things within a child’s life directly impact, if not define, the pathway of their future. As a little girl I always had thoughts in my head, stories if you will, and those thoughts became my friends. Having been an only child I spent a lot of time talking to the imaginary people I’d created within my mind. Those conversations however, weren’t with invisible people in my life as I carried on a normal day.

In fact, my imagination carried me to a far away land, and usually into the presence of famous people. As a teenager my best friend and I attended separate schools and often wrote lengthy letters (stories) to share with each other about the football jocks or the guys in the local rock band. When I became an adult however, I realized that the stories were still there, but with greater detail. It was the death, of someone very special that helped me realize that those stories which had helped me escape loneliness as a child could do the same as an adult. With a pen in hand I drifted away to a land that my hero was still very much alive, and death could never take him away. As time progressed the need to “let go” of the pain and move forward had me migrating toward the creation of other heroes much like the one I’d lost. It was the beginning of the creation of the Alpha-males from my books. The men bigger than life, stronger than nails but with a soft spot that only one woman ever finds.

Obviously we are all made by the same pattern, yet are so very different in comparison. Through the years I’ve learned that it is impossible to please every reader out there. Inevitably, someone will read my books that simply do not like them. I sincerely thank those individuals for taking the time to read my work, but I cannot allow those opinions to alter my path in writing. I’ve identified my target groups, and those are the people I hope to please. Those people who see the world with many of the same views as I. Those people who are willing to explore the wild side of life, vicariously through my books. An editor once gave me some very valuable advice, “Never defend the reason you wrote what you wrote. If it is already in print you couldn’t change it, even if you wanted to.” If you don’t like strong willed women and Alpha-males then my writing style isn’t for you. I pride myself in my strength, and being totally honest I don’t know how to create a weak female character. Perhaps I don’t want to know.

Will there ever be a time when erotic romance readers don’t want Alpha-males? Well I’m no psychic, but I certainly hope not. I for one can’t imagine life without those characters. Be it a fireman, a karate instructor, or a lumberjack, the world needs Alpha-males.
As women continue to evolve, and become inherently stronger, we may become our own heroes. We may even become the heroes of men. Regardless of what the future holds however, I’m thankful for the release that creating Alpha-males has given me. Through my stories I’ve learned to let go of the past, and to share the love that was so full and vibrant in my own life.

Title: Far From Innocent
Author Website
Buy Link
Genre: Erotica, Contemporary, Menage, M/F, M/M/F

Blurb: If Green Beret, Dex McKelvy, hadn’t ended their relationship, Rachel Kenyon would have never left town. She would have stayed with him, enjoying the hot lustful sex. But with a broken heart she made her way to start a new life and job in Hopkinsville, KY.

She never expected to meet Blake Linden, or to wake up with him in her bed. Blake was more than just a lover, he was a sexual god. He was protective, and it was no surprise that he’d sent the private detective hired by Dex packing back to Denver. It was a surprise however, that he and Dex knew each other. In fact, they shared a woman a decade ago. But once they shared Rachel, it was far too late to realize that they weren’t willing to share after all.

Your Character In Short Fiction by Karen M. Gross

2010-03-31T00:49:00.000-07:00

In short fiction it is vitally important that you convey a strong character as quickly as you can. Your reader needs to be able to identify emotionally with your character within the first couple of paragraphs. To do this you need to know as much as possible about your character.

So where do you begin?

In the first stages of story development, your plot will often fill in some details of your character. To play the starring role your character is going to need special skills or knowledge. Does your heroine need to run up 50 flights of stairs or fly a spaceship? Jotting notes about how these skills were acquired can give you the seeds of your character. You might even get a name for your hero or heroine.

Physical description can be peppered through a story to build an image. The Internet is the world’s greatest tool and the world’s greatest time waster. When I need to see a character, I can spend hours searching galleries to find just the look I want for my character. Magazines, sketches drawn on scraps of paper and other visual aids can help you keep your character’s appearance fresh in your mind.

There is nothing worse than a character who goes through several different eye colors without the aid of contact lenses or a girl who’s hair bobs around her shoulders on one page and curls down her back on another. A picture goes a long way towards keeping these details straight.

Beyond job skills and looks, your character needs to have a personal history. This is what brings fictional characters to life. Snippets of back-story can be used to provide motivation. Motivation is what makes your character move forward through the action of your plot. You can also consider any racial or cultural issues. A fifteen year old girl in the 15^th century is going to have a very different on than a girl from America in 1960.
Example: You build up a lot more tension having an off-duty police officer walk in on a fast-food joint robbery than if your character was a librarian armed only with a book…although that has possibilities.

Your character also needs a name. If you didn’t get one you liked earlier, try again now that you know a bit more about your character. Does he/she have a defining character trait that is important to the story? Is there something that defines your character? Example: Is your character strong willed? Brea, Bryan, Dickon, Godrick or Melissa. Is beauty what defines him/her? Ami, Hatsumi, Sherman or Tiara. For last names a census report or a telephone book can be extremely helpful.

Now you are dealing with a person, one with feelings and desires that your reader can connect with. Now when your character walks into a fast-food joint in the middle of the robbery your character’s reactions draw your reader in and through their actions and perceptions bring your story to life. They care about the out come and will follow along breathlessly as our heroine saves the day.

The final ingredient in creating a short fiction character is choosing how you are going to tell your character’s story?  Are we going to see into the minds of several characters? Third person point of view allows the author to describe multiple characters by using he and she. Example: He stood on the porch, the wind blowing drops of rain to sting his bare arms and upturned face. Being outside just made him feel better. Of course, not a lot made him feel worse than one of her rants.

Do you want to tell the story looking through the character’s eyes? This is harder, but can be very rewarding, putting your readers right into your character’s shoes. Example: I had seconds to take in the scene, the cashier with his hands up, the two men dressed in all black even to the stocking masks that covered their faces. The situation could go south, fast, if I didn’t act. Anger flooded me.  Didn’t these scumbags know I was off duty? Hell, I had just finished a double-shift.  “Everything is okay.” I said, raising my hands to show that they were empty.

Do you want to write it from the reader’s point of view? This is the style that was used a lot in twist-a-plot stories. Example: You open the door and the scent of dry dust and the stink of rotten wood carries to you on an outward rush of air. The house seems to have been vacant for a long time. To the left of the door is the light switch. You reach out and flip the small lever.

With a strong character you can convince your reader to suspend their disbelief, to shut out the rest of the, and come on an adventure with you. Romance, Horror, Sci-fi or Fantasy, your reader will feel what your character does and experience your tale vicariously.

Title: The Killer Wore High Heels
Author: Karen M. Gross
Author Group
Publisher: XOXO Publishing
Buy Link

BLURB: She's a vampire with a penchant for high heels and feeding on bad guys, with a band of hunters close on her trail. When she decides to turn the tables on the hunters who stalk her, the results are...fiendishly appropriate.

Under The Sun by Frances Pauli

2010-03-23T22:16:00.000-07:00

IS THERE anything new out there, really? As an author, and especially one who writes Speculative Fiction, the goal is always to stretch toward uniqueness, to invent something completely new and original.

   Maybe that’s stating the obvious, but a lot of the time, the goal is a lot harder to reach than you might imagine.

   Sometimes you hit it out of the park, a thought so purely and distinctly “yours” tickles you into action. Success. You’ve hit on something “new.” Finally. Until you go to the movies a few months later and see something so similar it makes you want to weep openly. You thought of it first, right? Didn’t you?

   Sigh. Tell me this has happened to other authors…please? I’m not ashamed to admit it. It happens to me all the time. I invent new technologies only to find shades of them in the latest Consumer Electronics. I create creatures so bizarre they have to be unique, and then see a cousin in the newest Scyfy series. (Don’t get me started on the Sci-Fi thing.) Am I unimaginably predictable? So average that my brainwaves only fluctuate in the “obvious” range? Or are we all tuned into the same, giant, universal wavelength?

     Heck if I know. What I do know is that creating something completely unique is a challenge. Even the pros struggle with it. I’ve read that there are only a finite number of story themes possible, and that all tales ever written are merely a version of one or the other of them. While the thought gives me shivers, I imagine it’s close to the mark.

   So should the Speculative author give up? Well, where’s the fun in that? There’s more to a tale than one element, and how a story is told can be equally important as anything else. Maybe it’s enough to have a unique perspective—something we are all inherently gifted with. Even if the most original thing an author can manage is their voice, I think that’s a pretty good start.
   As for that new technology…I intend to keep trying. Somewhere out there is a device or gadget, or ship’s drive that belongs to me alone.
   I’ll let you know when I find it.

Roarke by Frances Pauli
Published by Devine Destinies
Short Science Fiction Romance

Blurb:
      They have to be lying when they tell her she was dead. With no memory of her past, and no idea who she actually is, Nora has little options. Alone, and at the mercy of the Mercenary Defense Conglomerate, she searches for clues into her past, and the truth about her supposed demise.
      If she is a prisoner, robbed of memory and held against her will, then she must trust no one. If she has, in fact, returned from the dead, then who could possibly help her? Armed with only her wits and her inexplicably sharpened senses, she is forced to play along, to search for the holes in their story, and to piece together the flashes of memory that serve only to taunt her.

   But the visions seem to confirm the impossible. The man who is supposed to be her fiancé seems bent on confusing her, and the one person she is desperate to be near may very well be responsible for her death. If the silent Roarke is her enemy, why do her visions draw her closer to him? And why, when nothing else seems remotely familiar, does Nora find herself remembering, or wanting to remember only him?
Author Bio:
    Though she always held aspirations to be a writer, Frances originally chose to pursue a career in visual arts. Her stories, however, had other plans for her. By the time she entered her thirties, they were no longer content existing solely in her head. Compelled to free them, she set aside her easel and began to write in earnest
    She currently resides smack in the center of Washington State with her husband and two children. When not writing she dabbles in insane things like puppetry, belly dance and playing the ukulele. She collects rocks, and is a firm believer in good wine, fine chocolate and dangerous men.
     Her short fiction has appeared in Alternative Coordinates magazine.
More information on Frances and her writing can be found on her website.
She also offers free reads online.

Touch A Soul by Brianna Martini

2010-03-16T13:14:00.000-07:00

XoXo Publishing presents Touch a Soul(TM) – Literature Fundraising for Charity
By: Brianna Martini

How many people have wanted to donate money to a fundraising campaign they have seen on television or when at the mall? How many of us cannot help ourselves when we see someone in need?

I am sure that there are many more like me who feel that way.

While many of us readers still enjoy a good paperback novel, there are a growing number of people who are into reading books on their computer. Our website http://www.xoxopublishing.com, offers both paperbacks, e-books and Books on CD for sale, with stories ranging from Romance to Erotica to the Paranormal. We offer something for everyone.

“Our company mission is to let the reader explore a private place for reading pleasure, where they will be transported to a world of infinite possibilities.”

What makes XOXO Publishing so great? It’s not just because we are a publishing company who sells books; it is because we love helping others.

XOXO Publishing has created a division specifically for helping others. “Touch a Soul” (TM) is a non-profit part of the company, in which we feature fundraising paperbacks and e-books, where proceeds go to a charity of our choice or the author’s. We feel it is important to help others when we can and as much as we can.

Last spring, our company put out an Anthology called “Hate the Sin: Love the Sinner,” which was very successful. It combined a variety of short stories and poems. This book was featured at the Toronto Small Press Book Fair. Proceeds from the sales of this book went to the Heart & Stroke Foundation.
The success of “Hate the Sin: Love the Sinner” has prompted Touch a Soul(TM) to produce even more this year, allowing XOXO Publishing to help even more organizations. Who wouldn’t want to donate?

As of right now, there are six fundraising projects in the works, in which 75% to 100% of the sales will be going to charity. Authors from around the globe have become interested in producing stories, in the hopes of raising money for a variety of charities, and will donate a percentage of their own sales.
Books such as Must I Remember by Dr. Tim B. Watson is donating all of his royalties to an African charitable organization, while author Brianna Martini is donating 100% to the Convoy for Cure (Truckers with Cancer) off her upcoming release I’m Big, I’m Sexy and I’m Me. Author Victoria C. Blake is donating a percentage of her royalties to a local woman’s shelter, while author Amelie Court is allocating a percentage of Nobel her latest novella to the Canadian Diabetic Association.

XoXo Publishing's next project is to raise funds for all of the earthquakes Haiti, Chile, Turkey Orphanages via Unicef Canada, and a third project underway is for the Cancer Society Ovarian and Prostate Cancer. We have a list posted on our website at http://www.xoxopublishing.com.
It is not out of duty or obligation that we have created Touch a Soul(TM), but out of love for others, and our wanting to help. It is our way of giving back. We want make a difference in people’s lives, no matter how big or small.

Look for more to come from Touch a Soul(TM) and XOXO Publishing(TM).

An Author's Tale

Blood On The Feather by Melinda Elmore

It's A Balancing Act by Lynn Reynolds

How Is Success Measured? by Rhonda Lee Carver

DELANEY'S SUNRISE

$5.50 $3.85SAVE: 30% OFF

Four Romantic Greek Myths by Erin O’Riordan

Secrets of Character Creation by Mysti Parker

Creating Worlds by Judy Nickles

Can You Hear Your Characters Speaking? by Joanne Troppello

Hi. My name’s Brandi, and I’m a Southerner by Brandi Evans

Secrets and Lies: The story of an author mom by Jennifer Wylie

Help The Relief Effort In Japan & Read Some Great Fiction from Elizabeth Black

The Exciting Life of an Author - Not! by F.M. Meredith

Serendipity by Ann Duncan

Ten Reasons Why Rowing is Like Sex & Sometimes Even Better by Christopher Koehler

I Write, Therefore I Am by Debra Shiveley Welch

Twisting That Alpha Male Around Her Little Finger by Tina Donahue

Originality by Julian Adorney

R. Ann Siracusa’s Travelblog: Rome, Italy

Kick-starting My Muse by Gracen Miller

A Doggie's Tale by Berengaria Brown

Organization for the Beginning Writer by Fran Shaff

Writing: Destiny or Desire? by Arlene Knowell

Your Character In Short Fiction by Karen M. Gross

Under The Sun by Frances Pauli

Touch A Soul by Brianna Martini

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