Four couples, four stories:
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Apple ~ Bookshop ~ Indiebound
Credit: Cover art by Jennifer Greeff
💗Darien Francis and Richard Li meet during a bank robbery, but she’s afraid to love again.
Misty River series by Lori DiAnni
With enemies at every turn, how will they survive with their lives and love intact?
My name is Lori DiAnni and I’m the author of the small town Misty River series set in my state of Maine. I have three books out in the series and am currently working on book 4, Falling Inn Love with a tentative publishing date of May 20th.
People often ask me where I get my ideas for my stories and I answer that my series inspiration came from the small town where I grew up in Massachusetts. I lived in Essex, a little village really, of about 2500 people back in 1968. Maybe, just maybe there might be 3000 residents there now.
It sits on the Essex River which leads out to the ocean near Ipswich. The town is peaceful and literally, everyone knows everyone! Essex has one school, an elementary school, three churches, several seafood restaurants and a ton of antique stores. Downtown consists of a small pharmacy, a village bakery, a village market, a post office, a police station, a town hall and I think that’s it. If you blink, you’ll drive through downtown.
When it came time to plan my series, I couldn’t help but think of Essex but I wanted it to take place in Maine. So I melded my hometown with the small towns surrounding Sanford, Maine, where I live and viola’, Misty River was born. If I need quick inspiration, I can get in my car and take a thirty minute drive to Kennebunkport, Cape Porpoise, Arundel, York Harbor, Ogunquit, to name a few, and absorb the sights, smells and people. I live about a half hour from the coast which coincidentally Misty River happens to be that distance too!
So many real places inspired my fictional town. Sweet Cheeks Bakery is a blend of the Village Bakery in Essex and a bakery here in Sanford. I just made it a bit more whimsical. The café, Brewed Awakenings, is an actual small coffee shop in Wells. I loved the name and had to use it. Jamie’s Jukebox Diner is inspired by a diner in Waterboro, Maine. The Riverside Tavern is a blend of a tavern in Ipswich, Mass and a tavern here in town. Wilson’s General Store and Wilson’s Hardware Store are also blends of various hardware stores in town and Zeb’s in North Conway, NH. Yesterday’s Treasures, which will be in Book 5, is a spin-off of several antique stores in Essex, one in particular being Howard’s Flying Dragon Antiques. And lastly, Serenity Inn (Book 4-Falling Inn Love) is based on a bed and breakfast in Bar Harbor Maine that I fell in love with.
If you’re ever in Maine or Massachusetts, check out these places. You may be happy you did.
Find her books online:
Dancing In the Grass--Wishing on the Stars--Dreaming of Sunsets
Instructions
1. For the cupcakes: Preheat the oven to 350°F (177°C). Line a 12-cup cupcake/muffin pan with cupcake liners. Set aside.
2. Melt the butter and chocolate together in the microwave. Microwave in 30 second increments, stirring between each time. You may also melt the butter and chocolate over low heat on the stovetop. Stir until smooth and set aside to slightly cool.
3. In a medium sized bowl, toss the cocoa powder, flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt together until thoroughly combined. Set aside. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs, sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla together until smooth. Add the cooled butter/chocolate and whisk until smooth. Add half of the flour mixture, then half of the buttermilk. Repeat until everything is added. Stir until *just* combined; do not overmix. The batter will be very thick like pudding.
4. Fill the cupcake liners 2/3 of the way full with batter. Bake for 18 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool completely before frosting.
5. For the frosting: Sift together the confectioners’ sugar and cocoa powder to assure there are no lumps. Set aside. With a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy – about 2 minutes. Gradually add the sifted sugar/cocoa powder alternately with the heavy cream and vanilla. Beat on low speed after each addition. Once all added, beat on high speed until creamy and combined for at least 2 minutes. Add a pinch of salt if frosting is too sweet.
6. Frost cooled cupcakes and top with chocolate chips as desired. Cupcakes stay fresh at room temperature in an airtight container for up to 4 days. Store covered in the refrigerator is desired for up to 1 week.
Excerpt from Dancing in the Grass
The Meet cute…
Lucas opened the door and the bell jingled above their heads, announcing their arrival. The sweet scent of sugar and caramel wafted in the air. He had to admit the bakery had a tantalizing smell along with whimsical decor which would make anyone want to buy a dozen or more confections.
"Hey guys!" Chloe called out from behind the pink and white counter. "The usual, Dev?" Devon chuckled. "Everything in here is my usual, Chloe."
She laughed as she bent down to grab a box. She stood and opened the pink cover with a glassine window. “What’ll it be, Lucas?”
“Nothing for me, Chloe,” he answered, as he watched Devon lick his lips while glancing at the assortment of decadent cupcakes on the cake stand and in the display case. While Devon rattled off what he wanted, he ogled a cupcake, heavily frosted in a swirl of chocolate fudge and mini chocolate bars that oozed richness and calories. His mouth watered just looking at the sweet mound of delicious-ness sitting on top of the cake stand. He was tempted. “I see you eyeing my latest creation, Lucas,” Chloe said, winking at him. “As long as Devon doesn’t buy it, it’s yours.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he said to Devon, nudging his cousin’s shoulder. “It’s mine.” “Wouldn’t think of stealing your chocolate. I’d have to hear you whine about it all day. No thanks. It’s yours.”
Chloe closed the box and taped it shut. She then reached for the cupcake he had been eyeing and was about to put it in a bag when he stopped her. “No need, Chloe. I may eat it on the way over to the studio.”
After Chloe handed him the cupcake, she asked, “How’s Dani doing, Lucas? Sophie asks about her all the time.”
“She’s doing great.” He smiled at her. “Tell Sophie we’ll try to have a playdate.” He heard the jingle of the bell, announcing another customer. “Thanks for the cupcake, Chloe, I’ll let you know how good it is.” He turned and smacked into silky softness. “What the—!” Something metallic clattered to the floor.
For a moment, he stared at the squashed cupcake in his hand to the dark chocolate frosting smeared on a light blue silk blouse. He lifted his gaze and inhaled sharply. Bree! Bree was back! Her cinnamon-brown eyes widened. Her mouth formed a quick smile, then it disappeared as quickly as it had come. Her face and neck flushed pink.
"Lucas?" She instinctively wiped the chocolate frosting and only managed to smear it further down the length of her blouse.
Flustered, he reached out to wipe the frosting off her blouse at the same time she attempted to do so. She pushed his hand away and a jolt of awareness tingled his fingers. He stepped back, feeling like a total idiot. “I’m sorry, Bree. I didn't see you.”
"Obviously not." She looked down at the blouse, frowning.
"Bree, I believe you remember Lucas Tanner, from high school?” Merry Thompson quipped. Miss Thompson grinned and didn't appear to be shaken by the fact he had just smashed a cupcake into her niece's blouse.
“I remember Lucas.” Her gaze pierced him. “The bad boy, I recall.”
His heart thudded. Devon coughed from a few feet away. He couldn’t believe Bree was standing in front of him!
Chloe scrambled out from behind the counter. "Bree, I have an extra shirt in the back." “Thanks, Chloe.” Bree moved past him, shaking her head.
"Well, bro, I'll say you have an unusual way of introducing yourself to a lady," Devon said, his grin splitting his face in two. “Did I mention Bree was back in town?”
He glared at his cousin, then looked at the woman who had hired him to renovate the studio. "I'm sorry, Miss Thompson. It wasn't intentional." He bent down to retrieve Bree’s cell phone. Merry Thompson laughed. "Oh, I know that. If Bree hadn't been texting, maybe she would've been able to dodge you and the menacing cupcake."
He grimaced. “She hasn’t changed. Bree’s still a whirlwind wherever she goes." He handed the phone to Bree’s aunt.
"True."
"When did Bree get back in town?" he asked, glancing around for a trash receptacle and a napkin to wipe off his hands.
“Last week.”
A week ago! Hurt stabbed him in the chest. She hadn’t even tried to contact him. He was about to ask Miss Thompson another question when Bree’s voice rang out.
"Aunt Merry hired you?"
He snapped his gaze between Bree, who now wore a white tee shirt with the Sweet Cheeks Bakery logo emblazoned on the front, to her aunt. “Yeah, is that a problem?” “It might be.” Bree’s look could’ve turned him to stone. “Let’s go, Aunt Merry. I’ve had my cupcake.”
He didn’t know what to say, but he certainly knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to rush over to her, crush her against him and kiss her. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her until now, despite the awkward situation.
“Wait for me in the car, then. I still have to get my cupcakes,” Merry Thompson said, as Bree shoved open the door, the overhead bell jingling loud. Merry winked at him as she turned away and headed for the counter where Chloe stood, opening a box.
“Well, that was one helluva hello,” Lucas said. He watched from the window as Bree marched across the street, obviously angry with him. He was about to turn away and head to the door himself when Bree turned around. Their eyes met and to his disbelief, she smiled.
Speed Dating Round with Lori:
What are my writing must haves? I need to have my laptop, of course, a cup of coffee, a pen, notebook and sticky notes or scrap paper.
What are my go to methods for writing? I often refer to Save the Cat Writes A Novel or Gwen Hayes’s Romancing the Beat. I find them very helpful.
Favorite place to visit: I don’t travel often, but I loved visiting Bar Harbor, Maine. Wish we could’ve stayed a little longer. I wanted to really absorb all the sights for my time travel novel. I also loved visiting Salem, Mass where I used to live! Now that I don’t live there, I want to go back and visit all the tourist sites that I never visited before.
What do I do when not writing? I like to scrapbook. I usually attend a couple of crops a year with my daughter. It’s my therapy. Creating pages using paper and photos is so relaxing for me.
What am I known for? My loyalty
Morning Rooster, Night Owl or Midday Lark? I’m a cross between a Midday Lark on weekends and a Night Owl.
What comes first, character or plot? Always the characters. They come to me and then tell me the story they want
How many hours a day/week do I write? I try to write every day, but on average over a span of a week, I’ll say I write a total of 10 hours. Sometimes more depending on my mood.
Social Media Links
Facebook -- Facebook Personal --Webpage--Instagram--Amazon--Bookbub--Goodreads
Arresting Benjamin by Amber Daulton
With enemies at every turn, how will they survive with their lives and love intact?
Amber Daulton is here today sharing about her new release, the steamy book Arresting Benjamin.
Tell us about the book:
A one-night stand, a surprise baby, and a mysterious stalker.
Mechanic Benjamin Starwell can’t stop thinking about Belle Hamlin, the ballsy musician he slept with and skipped out on months earlier. He never meant to get her pregnant, but he’ll do whatever it takes to win back her trust and be a part of his child’s life. His desire for Belle drives him to be a better man, but he’s worn thin with a garage to run and his estranged sister dumping her troubles on him.
Belle’s juggling impending motherhood, her indie rock career, and a stalker who’s determined to see her fail. Even though she’s desperate to get her priorities straight, she pushes aside her past hurt and welcomes Benji back into her bed. She never expects him to slip into her heart.
When the danger escalates, they face the greatest challenge of all—protecting their unborn child.
Here’s an excerpt
An eerie chill crept down her spine as he pulled into the parking lot. Her heart slammed. “What the hell? Benji, stop the truck.”
He parked in a vacant spot near her little green bug. “What is it?”
“My car. Someone trashed my damn car.” She jumped from the cab and hurried across the shadowy lot. Air puffed white from her mouth as she heaved.
A streetlight cast a dim glow across the shattered back windshield, four slashed tires, and broken taillight casings of her car. Someone had even keyed the doors.
Benji grabbed her arm. “Careful.”
Fear clutched her in a stranglehold. “The guy who left the photos did this. I’m sure of it.” She walked from one side of the vehicle to the other, stepping over glass and plastic shards. Nausea swam in her stomach. “What does he want?”
“That’s pretty obvious.” He nodded toward the driver’s side front and rear doors. “He wants you to stop singing, or so he scrawled here.”
Belle snatched her cell from her purse, smashed a button on the screen, and lifted the glowing phone to the passenger side doors. As the light lit up the keyed letters, she shuddered. “The word bitch is on this side. I can’t believe this is happening.”
He stomped around the car and scowled at the nasty word.
She gazed around the lot. No one was there from what she could see, but were they really alone? Was someone lurking behind a vehicle? Perhaps watching them from a window or rooftop with a high-powered assault rifle?
Don’t panic. The cold breeze raked her skin as she dialed for help.
Download Links
Universal link ~ Amazon US ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes ~ Kobo ~ Google Play
Add it to Goodreads
Check it out on BookBub
About the Author
Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through Daulton Publishing, The Wild Rose Press, and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.
Social Media Links
The Student in Classroom 6 by Patricia McAlexander
Welcome, Patricia!
What was your inspiration for The Student in Classroom 6?
She never suspects the killer on campus might be one of her students.
Although a faculty member has been killed on campus and the murderer is still at large, English instructor Katherine Holiday never suspects the criminal might be one of her students. In fact, there’s a man in her adult evening class she wishes she could know better.
Seeing no need for a college degree, Tyler McHenry, a partner in his father’s successful tree service, writes fiction for his own pleasure. No one at the University needs to know his personal reasons for enrolling in a first-year composition course. Still, he finds himself fascinated by the pretty teacher, who believes his writing should be published.
I live on an historic street in Athens, Georgia, lined with old houses and old trees—some very old trees. One night we came out of our house to find the road and sidewalk in front of it completely blocked by gigantic magnolia limbs. Part of the ancient tree across the street had split off and fallen. The city cleaned it up, but a private tree service had to come and take down the dangerous remaining portion of the tree. On our porch we had a front row seat, watching the drama of the tree removal and the skilled men up in the bucket and at its base taking it down. That event inspired this novel about an arborist who was also a continuing education student at our nearby university.
What was the hardest/most unusual/interesting part of the story* to write/research? [*all of those things!]
My main character, Katherine Holiday, is an instructor at the University of Georgia as I myself had been, so that needed little research on my part. But what I did need to research was the occupation of being an arborist for the character of her sexy student, Tyler McHenry. I read articles on and watched videos about removing trees—and even read a multi-paged manual for operating one of those large bucket trucks.
These two photos are of the taking down of the ancient magnolia across the street from us--the event that inspired my novel.
Also available at these retailers: Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks
EXCERPT
“You know, Ms. Holiday,” Tyler said as he walked with her back to her porch, “it was against regulations to bring you up in the bucket. Only accredited personnel are supposed to go up.” He paused. “Just like it’s probably against regulations for University instructors to get too friendly with students in their class.”
“It is,” she said, feeling somehow bold. “But if you can break a rule, I can. Would you like to come in for a beer?”
“That may not be so wise. I am an owner of this tree business and an owner of the bucket truck. I was not worried about breaking that rule tonight. I knew it was safe for you when I brought you up in the bucket. That is not the way it is with you and the University. And you don’t know—” he hesitated.
“Know what?”
He smiled a little, as if joking. “Whether you’d be safe alone in your house with me.”
Two of my hobbies are photography and hiking. This photo was taken at Lake Herrick in Athens, Georgia.
Walk the Walk Series - by Marilyn Barr
Welcome back, Marilyn. Always a pleasure to have you visit. I can’t wait to hear more about your new series Walk the Walk!
Thank you, Jean, for hosting me and my scallywags. I know you love to travel so I want to take you to one of my favorite vacation destinations. My husband and I had our honeymoon in Charleston, SC. While we were married nineteen years ago, Charleston’s history goes back much further than ours. In fact, Charleston’s roots can be traced back to Charles Town Harbor which was a thriving naval hub before the USA was a thought. That’s where I’d like to take you today—to the bustling city of Charles Town Harbor where you could meet Blackbeard, Charles Vane, Anne Bonnie, Jonathan Hornigold, Jack Rackham, Black Sam Bellamy, Mary Riley, or any other pirate who happened to be getting cupshot drunk at the tavern. Living on spirits on the boats couldn’t prepare the saltiest pirate for the ale they serve in the colonies.
We must be precise with our time travel expedition because the Golden Age of Piracy in the New World—as calculated by the rise and fall of the Pirate Republic of Nassau—was only four years long. I plan to take you to 1718 because this is the peak of Edward Teach’s (or Thatch’s, horrible handwriting has created this controversy) eighteen-month career. Why would I pick to introduce you to the crew of a pirate with such a short career? How much damage can one man do on the high seas in eighteen months without motorized boats? Just ask Edward Teach…but he prefers to be called Blackbeard in 1718. The condensed timeline was just one of the many things I found fascinating when I was researching my newest paranormal, historical romance series: Walk the Walk.
When we think of life on Blackbeard’s many boats, we tend to think of the sensationalized version—by Blackbeard’s design. Looking back at historical records of lost cargo, Blackbeard boarded 25% (or less) of the boats he robbed. His crew wasn’t constantly sword fighting, torturing victims, or sinking boats. He chose to fight with psychological warfare just like Black Sam Bellamy, and the other wildly successful pirates. By creating the legend of Blackbeard (with firecrackers in his beard), he was able to scare the superstitious merchants into handing over their valuables. Why waste the cannonballs on a boat that won’t fight back?
Blackbeard’s flagship, The Queen Anne’s Revenge, was a captured slave ship which was transporting slaves through the Bahamas to England. The boat was massive with more cannons than any other model of ship on the water at the time—just like Sam Bellamy’s Whydah. The slaves aboard were offered jobs on the boat and taught to sail, shoot, fence, read, and any other skill a pirate could teach them. They were given a vote in all boat matters (even giving the captain the black spot) and a full-share salary. Women who weren’t prostitutes were also given these privileges. I fell in love with pirates while researching about them because they were pioneers in true democracy and equality. I knew I wanted to write a book series with the real accounts of these men and women instead of the mindless killing machines.
Blackbeard’s career flourished until the bad boy lifestyle caught up with him. It was ultimately sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll (okay, bawdy sea shanties) which did him in. He contracted the Bube (syphilis) from one of the coastal tavern wenches about one-hundred-fifty years before Louis Pasteur discovered Germ Theory. In 1718, the cause was dark spirits, and the cure was quicksilver (mercury). Charles Town Harbor was the medical mecca of the New World and the largest distributor of mercury, so I wasn’t surprised to find Blackbeard made monthly visits to Charles Town Harbor (as logged into the harbor records.) If he was as far north as Carolina (it wasn’t divided into north and south until decades later), then how could he have been plundering the trade route around the Bahamas to pay for the quicksilver?
He couldn’t be in two places at once. Historians argue whether the pain and desperation of his disease changed his views on equality, or pressure from the colonial Governors to stop hurting the slave trade. Whatever the reason, in 1718, Blackbeard was selling his crew members into slavery in exchange for quicksilver treatments. One such transaction went bad and Blackbeard blockaded Charles Town Harbor for three days with his fleet. Commerce stopped. Boats approaching the hub were plundered. Important diplomats were kidnapped. However, there are mixed accounts of what broke the line of ships and freed Charles Town Harbor. With all the excitement, mystery, and controversy I couldn’t resist starting Book 1: Walk the Plank here.
Branko is a typical ratline climber on The Queen Anne’s Revenge when he is informed by Black Sparta (taken from the historical figure Black Caesar who was Blackbeard’s right-hand man) that Branko is next to be traded. Having a superpower of extra high jumps, Branko can escape the boat when it docks in Charles Town Harbor. Without Branko to make the trade the deal goes sour, and Blackbeard’s blockade is set up to retrieve Branko. They suspect he is hiding on one of the boats in the harbor because the Governor is searching for him on the shores. Branko has secured a boat for his escape, but it has one problem…a lady chained in the hull…who believes she is a vampiress…shiver me timbers, can he not catch a break?
I loved creating the dynamic between Branko and Magda the vampiress. Being rescued from a slaver’s vessel himself, Branko can’t leave Magda in chains. He frees her and reasons with her as an equal instead of slitting her throat like the historical accounts of pirates suggest. Too bad she’s an independent woman who is set on sailing the boat. Their friends-to-lovers romance is the result of running from common enemies mixed with the mutual desire for a place to belong. The search for equality leads them to one another’s arms but will it lead them to a safer place than Charles Town Harbor? Find out in Book 1: Walk the Plank, Book 2: Walk the Deck, and released today—Book 3: Walk the Night.
Congratulations to Branko and Magda for making it to book three of their trilogy… well kinda… here’s the back of the book blurb for Walk the Walk Book 3: Walk the Night (available on Amazon and free with Kindle Unlimited subscription).
Magda’s second chance at marriage promises to be a dream come true—if she survives her mysterious nightmare illness. She has been married for a week and is desperate for a much longer happily ever after.
Branko would trade places with Magda in a heartbeat, but the sickness plaguing Nassau prefers European hosts and spares the natives of the Caribbean. While he believes Mother Nature is punishing those who destroy her beautiful islands, he refuses to accept that Magda deserves to be on the list for retaliation.
The civilized world hasn’t a cure for Magda, but Branko will try anything to save her—including reuniting with a ghost from his past. He requests the help of a Hoodoo priestess, but magic always comes with a price… She’s asking for Leaf, the young wildcrafter and ship’s cook, in exchange. Will Captain Branko repeat the betrayal of Blackbeard and sell a deckhand for treatment, or say goodbye to the love of his life?
About the first book in the series: Walk the Plank…
Branko learns he will be sold into slavery when they dock in Charles Town, so he doesn’t hesitate to jump ship onto a neighboring sloop in the harbor. This boat will weigh anchor with him at the helm–once he decides what to do with the lady chained in the cargo hold who claims she’s a vampire.
Magda Dashkovari’s body has been given to science while she’s still living in it. Her prayers are answered when a pirate boards her boat, but she should have asked for her rescuer to be less bloodthirsty than she is…
Scientists hunt her in town, plantation owners hunt him from the north and south, Blackbeard blocks Charles Town Harbor to the east, and a war rages between settlers and natives to the west. These unlikely allies will have to link together to
Find Walk the Plank online:
Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ BookBub
An Excerpt from Walk the Plank:
“Who is Blackbeard?” My heart skips a beat at her naivete. Her accent is foreign, so I forgive the slight. Unfortunately, she takes the opening to worm her way further into my mind. “We got off to a poor start. I am Magda Dashkovari, and I am a vampire.”
My disbelief bubbles like a good ale as we reach the deck. Gut-busting, belly-aching, side-stitching laughter brings tears to my eyes. From a madman captain who masquerades as a demon to a madwoman boat owner who masquerades as a vampire—I can pick ’em, can’t I? She wraps her wrist with furious revolutions while I wipe my tears.
“I don’t care what you are,” I tell her, “as long as you are leaving.”
“I could drain you.”
“I could throw you overboard.”
“I’m staying.”
“—in Charles Town Harbor, and this boat is leaving.”
“I will sink this boat before I let you return it to my husband! Whatever he has promised in reward is a lie. Once you are in his harbor, one of his minions will drain you—”
“Oh, he’s a vampire, too. Is there a whole colony waiting for me somewhere? Listen, sea hag, I don’t know your husband, and the last thing in my future is to return his boat.”
Get those boots a-walkin' and check out the series!
〰️
Get those boots a-walkin' and check out the series! 〰️
Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. She has a diverse background containing experiences as a child prodigy turned medical school reject, published microbiologist, special education/inclusion science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant, certified spiritual & energy healer, and advocate for the autistic community. This puts her in the position to bring tales containing heroes who are regular people with different ability levels and body types, in a light where they are powerful, lovable, and appreciated.
When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula. She is a sucker (haha) for cheesy horror movies, Italian food, punk music, black cats, bad puns, and all things witchy.
~ Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ Amazon author profile ~ Goodreads ~ BookBub
Bridges by Linda Griffin
“…a tender and nuanced story of love blossoming in the most unexpected of places.” – Kirkus Reviews
〰️
“…a tender and nuanced story of love blossoming in the most unexpected of places.” – Kirkus Reviews 〰️
Buy Links: Wild Rose Press ~ Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Apple~ Indiebound
In 1963, Neil Vincent, a middle-aged World War II veteran and “Christian atheist” is working as a chauffeur at Westfield Court. He spends most of his spare time reading. Mary Claire DeWinter is a young, blind, Catholic college student and reluctant heiress. To secure her inheritance, she has to marry within a year, and her aunt is pressuring her to marry a rich man who teased and bullied her when she was a child. Neil and Mary Claire shouldn’t even be friends, but the gulf between them is bridged by a shared love of books. Can they cross the bridge to more?
Now for an excerpt:
Finally, only two passengers were left on the platform—a small, homely man and the blind woman. Blind girl, really. She couldn’t be more than twenty. She had a jointed white cane, and her large sunglasses didn’t cover the edges of the scars on her face. She would not have been beautiful even without the scars—too thin, for starters, of average height but with small bones. On the other hand, her face might once have been pretty, and her hair was clean and shining, raven black, and well brushed. She was too pale, and the scars around her eyes were red and ugly. She looked a little lost.
Feeling foolish, he lowered the slate. “Miss DeWinter?” he asked as he approached her.
“Yes,” she said, turning toward his voice with a smile.
More about Linda...
〰️
More about Linda... 〰️
Oxford comma, yes or no?
Yes, of course! How else could we tell whether a list ending “ham, cheese, peanut butter(,) and jelly sandwiches” referred to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or peanut butter sandwiches and jelly sandwiches?
Find Linda online: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ Amazon Author Page
What is your writing vice or must-haves?
I prefer music or TV to silence, and I can’t write with anyone behind me—beside me is fine.
In an alternate reality, what would be your dream job?
I’d love to design costumes for figure skaters.
You have a time travel machine: past or future? Where/when?
I’d like to travel to Tudor England, but only if I could take my smallpox vaccination with me.
You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why?
Synchronicity blue. Blue is my favorite color, and synchronicity is my favorite word. It would be a little lighter than cerulean.
You find a $100 bill in your purse/bag, what would you spend it on?
Lunch with friends.
You’re on a desert island, besides essentials, what do you bring?
I would say books, but I consider them essentials! I would bring Reid Lucas, the hero of my 2021 release, because he can cook, and he would be good company.
FIND LINDA ONLINE:
Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ Amazon Author Page
Precious Treasure by Terry Segan
Welcome, Terry!
Do you find inspiration in your own life for your writing?
All the time. Many of my settings are from places I’ve lived or visited. Precious Treasure takes place on Long Island, which is where I grew up. The towns are fictitious, but the setting resembles many suburban areas of Long Island. My time travel mystery, Photographs in Time, is set in Southern California. I lived in the area during my twenties. The characters I create are sometimes inspired by people I know or strangers I’ve met.
What was the most interesting part of the story to write/research?
The key in a journal…
Janie Holcomb prays for closure once the courts declare her missing husband dead. Instead, she's sent spiraling down a dangerous path.
When her lawyer delivers a package held in trust, she finds a cryptic warning along with a Civil War journal promising buried treasure. While seeking a connection between her spouse and the decades-old diary, Janie attracts the spirit of a Confederate soldier pleading for help.
Enlisting her brother's assistance to chase down clues, they discover that not everyone they know should be trusted. Janie overlooks potential threats when the promise of new love stirs her emotions. Will her digging uncover the answers she craves or doom her to a similar fate?
In Precious Treasure, the most interesting part to write was the Civil War journal of the young Confederate soldier. It took quite a bit of research to understand the life of the soldiers in that time period. Besides tracking down facts about their clothing, food, and military habits, I also looked up actual letters to get a feel for their written words. It surprised me with how formal many of the letters sounded.
Any new projects on the horizon?
Next up is Spirit in Tow, another paranormal mystery, and the first in my new Marni Legend series. Marni must help a lost soul move on while trying to jumpstart her love life and extricate the ghost of her recently departed mother from her kitchen.
Here’s a sneak peek from Precious Treasure:
Janie dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom. Turning on the tap to fill the sink, she bent over and splashed cold water on her face. The refreshing drops rolled down her forehead, cheeks and chin, pulling her out of her funk. Sightless, Janie reached for the hand towel hanging nearby and dried her face as she stood upright. Opening her eyes, she leaned in to examine the damage of the late night on her complexion. Her reflection looked back, as well as that of a young man standing behind her. Janie’s heart leapt to her throat as she whipped around and found no one there. Looking back in the mirror, she saw only herself.
This is too much, she thought. First nightmares and now hallucinations. Janie shook her head. With the assault of information thrown at her in the last twenty-four hours, her imagination cartwheeled out of control.
Knowing the visions were a result of the wine, newspaper articles and journal, didn’t calm the raised hackles on the back of her neck. The foreboding in Brian’s letter snaked its way up her spine threatening to encircle her throat and squeeze tight. His writing had a tone of uncertainty and fear—uncharacteristic of the man she had married.
Speed Round!
Ice cream (favorite flavor)? Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
Coffee or tea or wine? Coffee – for the safety of others
What does your desk look like? Messy
In an alternate reality, what would be your dream job (besides author)? Tour Guide
Where is your favorite place you've visited (or wish to visit)? Australia—on the list
What do you like to do when not writing? Travel
Beach, lake, or mountains? BEACH (sorry to shout)
What are you known for? Sarcasm--and sometimes my meatloaf.
What comes first, character or plot (or other)? Character
You’re on a desert island, besides essentials, what do you bring? My husband
Casino Queen by Cara Bertoia
by Cara Bertoia
When I was younger, I always wondered what was wrong with me. Even though I had a good job, friends and a beautiful place to live I couldn’t settle down. I would pack up and move on a whim. I changed careers every few years. Then, I found this word, that described me perfectly, torschlusskpanik. The German word for the feeling that opportunities are slipping away. I didn’t just travel to places, I lived there. My wanderlust started in college. I spent a semester at the University of the Americas in Mexico. From then on I was hooked on traveling.
As a child watching Ocean’s Eleven, casinos seemed so grown up and glamorous. They were open 24 hours, which made them so alive. To get my first job I drove across country from North Carolina to Nevada. The first casino I saw was the Cal Neva casino on the beautiful shores of Lake Tahoe. Dealing there allowed me to look out at a panoramic view of the lake. I lived in America’s all year playground for three years. I was young, single and worked nights, so I could go to the lake or ski during the day. I was never lonely working in the casino. I always made good money and got to travel the world
I later worked for Princess Cruises traveling the world as a croupier. I met my Scottish husband on the Star Princess, and when we left ships, we moved to Palm Springs. He jumped ship to be with me, and we married two weeks later.
My new husband and I moved to Palm Springs the same week a Native American casino opened downtown. Thousands of people from all over the world were flocking to the desert to work at the casinos opening up in the Coachella Valley. Tribes all over California were claiming their sovereignty. The casino we went to work at snuck in slot machines, defying the federal government. Until Proposition 5 passed, legalizing tribal gaming, we were scared of being shut down. But the best part was that we got to live in Palm Springs, with majestic mountains hovering in the background.
I think life in Southern California was so exciting it tempered my wanderlust. Palm Spring was two hours to the mountains, two hours from the coast, from Los Angeles and San Diego. Palm Springs was beautiful, a town in the desert filled with flowers. Not every casino is in a beautiful place, but you can find one in a beautiful place if you want to.
I found the perfect backdrop for my novel in the High Desert of Southern California. A refuge for artists, ex-Marines and desert rats. The sky was always blue, and the rocks at Joshua Tree National Park looked like giant Jenga pieces precariously balanced, ready to fall. I loved hiking in the park, an isolated place near the largest Marine base in the world. The Night Hawk casino near that base became the setting, for my novel.
Caroline Popov, alone, heartbroken, and deeply in debt ends up in glamorous Palm Springs, California. Native American casinos have just opened, thousands of people from all over the world came to work there, money flowed like water, and real estate became the new status symbol. And then came The Great Recession, and suddenly the partying stopped.
Alone, desperate and deeply in debt, she lands a job at the Palm Oasis Casino. She is mentored by the charismatic tribal chairman, John Tovar. Embraced by casino culture, Caroline works her way up to casino manager of the Night Hawk, in the High Desert town of Joshua Tree. There, she is responsible for managing multicultural team members, satisfying the demands of challenging guests, growing revenue while rooting out corruption. As she moves up through the ranks of management, her bond with John deepens.
In the process of uncovering the underbelly of corruption her list of enemies grows. Sometimes you have to gamble like your life depends on it. With her life on the line can she pull out a win?
Buy links, go to: Amazon ~ B&N ~ Google Books
The characters in my book were familiar to me from my two decades working in the casino industry. Fortunately, my boss was the most charismatic tribal chairman in America. People always asked me, “What’s a nice girl like you doing working in a place like this?” Now I can honestly say, “Research.” The characters in my head just kept letting me know how they wanted their story told. All the pieces of the story came together in an organic way to capture that special time and place. It was important to me that my protagonist would be a strong woman running the casino. Because I worked with so many smart, strong, independent women.
The casino industry has been good to me, but I always witnessed an underbelly just perfect for a thriller. Millions of dollars passed through the casino every week, casino fleas operated their personal side businesses on the gaming floor, and you never knew who might walk through the door itching for a fight. My hope is that after reading Casino Queen you will never walk into a casino the same way.
Speed Round
The perfect writing day – Typing at the computer with a podcast on, but I am so absorbed with the story I don’t hear it.
You have a time travel machine: past or future – Definitely the future. I know what the past was like.
Morning rooster, night owl, or midday lark – Night owl an animal sacred to Native Americans. I wrote about that in Casino Queen.
If you could meet one famous person, living or dead, who would it be? Lionel Shriver my favorite author. But she kind of scares me.
Favorite Place to visit – Parma Italy, huge hams hanging from hooks and fresh parmesan cheese.
Beach, lake or mountains? Beach, I live in a high rise on the ocean in Florida. I gaze wistfully wondering what is on the other side of that ocean, as I write.
How about an excerpt?
“Why did I transfer you up from Palm Springs to be my Casino Queen?” The charismatic Tribal Chairman John Tovar asked.
“Casino Queen, really? Apparently, you are the only person in America who isn’t watching the show about the seven kingdoms on cable. The queens always get killed in the most horrific ways. They are hanged, beheaded, poisoned, burned alive in an explosion, or have their throat slit,” an exasperated Caroline Popov answered.
“I promise that won’t happen to you.” He gestured for her to take a seat at an empty ‘Mystic Mermaid’ slot machine, then sat across from her. They swiveled their
chairs to face each other. John tried to act serious, but a smile kept pulling at the corner of his eyes. “According to the Mazurie decision, Native American tribes are considered sovereign nations. Therefore as leader of the tribe, I am King of the Shotowa.”
He continued. “Believe me, when I met the Queen of England I was introduced as the leader of the Shotowa nation. Let me be clear, as soon as you drove into this parking lot you entered the nation.” He gestured toward the uniformed officers standing at the door. “We have our own army.”
She decided to play along with the flow of his logic. “You mean security guards.”
“Precisely, trained courtesy of the United States Marine Corps. The tribe issues its own currency, gaming chips made of ceramic clay, stamped with our logo. At the cashiers’ cage, our central bank, those chips can be exchanged for U.S. dollars. Anyone can find food in our three restaurants or the team member dining room for employees. An underground well supplies us with water. We provide hotel rooms for shelter. Any guest who comes to stay with us will find their basic human needs covered by the Shotowa Tribe. Never forget we are a sovereign nation. I am the King, and I anoint you Queen of the Night Hawk.”
About Cara…
Cara Bertoia grew up in a strait-laced Southern family, but she was always fascinated with casinos. In her twenties on a summer hiatus from teaching in North Carolina, she drove to California and became a dealer at Caesars in Lake Tahoe. She discovered that after teaching high school, handling an unruly gambler was a piece of cake. Her mother highly disapproved of her working in a casino, "a place so bad it has 'sin' in the middle."
Eventually, she succumbed to pressure from the family and returned east to take a hi-tech job in Boston. She also began working on her MFA in writing at Emerson. Her goal was to write the first realistic novel about casino life from the perspective of an experienced table games dealer. She is always amazed that normal and sometimes quite intelligent players become absolutely clueless in the casino. They repeat superstitious nonsense and no amount of logic can change their position, maybe her novel will.
While in Boston she was offered the opportunity to join Princess Cruises as a croupier. Jumping at the chance, she spent the next five years circling the globe. Sometimes life exceeds your dreams. She was awed by the wonders of Venice, the fjords of Norway, and the Northern Lights in St. Petersburg.
Cara returned from ships with a very special souvenir, her Scottish husband Ray. They went to work at the Spa Casino in Palm Springs, and now live in Hollywood, Florida, where she writes about her casino years while wistfully gazing out at the ocean.
I love to connect with my readers. Please send me a picture with Casino Queen. I will post those pictures to my social media.
Cara’s Socials:
TikTok: tiktok.com/@carabertoia
Cara Bertoia’s Blog
Cara Bertoia – Author
Goodreads
BookBub
The Big Thrill is a monthly publication of the International Thriller Writers Association. They say they have 200,000 hits a month. I don't know why they picked me for an author interview, but I am very happy because all the big names appear there. Check it out. Here is the link. My interview will appear April 1st.
The Big Thrill Online Magazine
This is a link to Little Miss Book Lovers 87 review of Casino Queen. The blog is hosted by Vikkie Wakeham a member of the Squadpod, a group of book influencers.
Little Miss Book Lover 187
Unlock my Heart by Jennifer Wilck
Thank you, Jean, for hosting me on your blog today.
I’m a visual person, and when I write my books, I see the characters and settings in my head. I also hear the characters’ voices, which can be a little disconcerting. But back to visuals. When I wrote this book, several years ago, I had very specific images of what Ted, the hero, and Abby, the heroine, looked like.
Ted was tall with light brown hair, piercing eyes, and a wiry body, more like a baseball player than a football player. He dressed casually, often wearing the typical tech outfit of khakis and a polo. And of course, his hearing aids. Abby was short with long, straight, dark hair and gray eyes. She dressed to fit in with her co-workers, so jeans, basically. She favored the color pink. While I saw them both in my head, I never expected to find photos of them anywhere because they weren’t based on anyone in real life.
But some readers like to see what is going on in the author’s head, even if they also like to use their own imagination when picturing characters. So on days when I was procrastinating writing, I’d go on the Internet and look for photos that I thought embodied my characters. I found them and created a Pinterest board for them.
The setting was easy. The story takes place outside of San Francisco, so I could access plenty of city photos and make up the town on my own. The other part of the story takes place in New York City, a place I’m very familiar with. I was able to use my own photos to describe the kissing in the New York Public Library scene, as well as the scene of them skating at Rockefeller Center.
It was fun using photos I’ve taken in the past—it brought back memories of visiting there with friends and family. And when I knew I needed a specific location, I could either go back in person, or once again, check the Internet.
So I’m curious. When you read, do you picture the characters and places in your head? What about when you write? And do you like seeing the visuals from the author, or do you prefer to make them up yourself?
Can love break through their firewalls?
Abby Marlow, computer security expert, lands a job at the best IT security firm in the country. Her sole focus is financial independence so she never has to rely on others again, especially a man. But why does her boss make her wires short circuit?
Ted Endicott, CEO and founder of the IT security firm, is hard of hearing. Although an expert in his field, he’s still uncomfortable admitting his difficulty hearing to his clients or employees. So why is he willing to accept Abby’s help?
As Ted and Abby work together, barriers fall away, and soon the lines blur between colleagues and lovers. But a security glitch in a client's system indicates one of his employees is the hacker, and all signs point to Abby. Can they get past the suspicion and find a future together?
Find Unlock My Heart, now, available online!
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo
Here’s an excerpt…
“You always run alone?”
She pointed to a nearby jogger. “I’m not alone.”
“But you’re not with anyone.”
Standing this close to him, she wished for things she shouldn’t. “No, I’m not.”
“How far are you going?”
“The end of the trail and back.” Or however long it
took to get him out of her mind.
He put his helmet on. “Come on, I’ll keep you company.”
“It’s not necessary.” Clearing her mind would be impossible with him next to her.
“It’s safer this way.” He looked down the trail.
His desire to protect her sent warmth curling up and down her spine. It had been a long time since anyone was concerned about her. All of a sudden, the idea of company appealed to her. Touching his arm— and trying not to squeeze his bicep like you would if you tested the ripeness of a peach—she waited for him to turn. “You’re welcome to join me if you want. If you can keep up.” She winked and raced away, his bark of laughter a brief punch in the silence behind her.
She no longer kept an easy pace, easing into the morning. This time, she sprinted hard. The slight whir of his bike wheels warned her as he reached her a few moments later.
“You’re pretty fast, but I’d suggest you slow down.”
She turned toward him. “Out of pity for you?”
His lips twitched, and his nostrils flared, but he kept his humor reined tight. Instead, he cycled next to her, his head turned slightly toward her. “The only pity I ask for is please don’t make me carry you home when you’re too tired to continue.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” She made sure he could read her lips.
He grinned, and the last of her tension disappeared. He accepted her teasing.
“Oh, you’ll pay,” he said.
He rode ahead, and she thought for sure he would leave her in the dust. But he turned around, a gleam in his eye, and returned to her side. When they reached a part of the trail farther on, he pulled ahead a little and skidded in a puddle, splashing her legs.
She gasped and looked at her mud-spattered shins and ignored the twinkle in his eye. “You play dirty—literally.”
Ted stopped while she paused to clean her legs off. Given the opportunity—two could play this game—she took her mud-streaked hands and wiped them on his chest. She drew in a breath and realized her mistake. Sure, she’d repaid him for splattering her with mud, but a sudden awareness of his body overrode her satisfaction. His muscles were hard, and she wondered what the rest of him felt like. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her gaze shifted to his lips. What would it be like to kiss them?
She jerked and pulled her hand away. No. She jumped at the strangled sound from the mouth she’d considered kissing and raised her glance to his eyes. His surprise mirrored her own.
Mistake, mistake, mistake! An internal voice blared a warning. She’d intended for it to be like when she and Max, her best friend from childhood, challenged each other as kids. In fact, when he teased her, Ted reminded her of Max—something about the glint in his eye and the “need to win” coupled with concern. But she hadn’t counted on the sexual component.
She closed her eyes. She was not like her mother. She wasn’t.
“Abby?”
She stilled. Maybe he couldn’t see her. Right, and maybe unicorns are real.
“Yes?”
“Open your eyes.” She opened them.
“Let’s get breakfast.”
Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Pretty soon, her head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Even as an adult, she thinks about the characters and stories at night before she falls asleep or walking the dog. Eventually, she started writing them down. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.
In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and does not believe in sharing her chocolate.
She writes contemporary romance, many of which feature Jewish characters in non-religious settings (#ownvoices). She’s published with The Wild Rose Press and all her books are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
Connect with Jennifer online:
Website ~ Facebook ~ Newsletter ~ Twitter ~ Instagram ~ BookBub
Heartquake by Terry Newman
A muse called Moose…
I wish I could tell you Heartquake came to me in a flash of brilliant inspiration, brought down from the heavens by my muse.
My writing doesn’t work that way. My muse, whose name is Moose (get it? Moose the Muse) doesn’t work that way, either. Let’s be honest, Moose barely works.
Moose prefers to tease me. He’ll dangle a character’s name in front of me. It just floats in the tense air between us. Moose dares me to do something with. Quite frankly, it’s a challenge he knows very well I can’t refuse.
From that character, a story slowly emerges. It’s murky, at first, and muddled. And that’s just the way Moose likes it. That’s exactly how Charlee Lightheart, the heroine of Heartquake, developed. Just a name, at first, who had a story that needed telling.
And since I can’t plot, Charlee and I made the journey throughout the novel together. Sometimes, she would surprise me with a revelation about her backstory. Or her thoughts on her romantic interest, Riley Brockton (who, in turn, kept his own secrets from me).
My apartment may be small, but I do love the early morning view. It’s a sign that the day is filled with potential. I share these with friends and on social media. People are probably tired of having to look at my sunrises, but I never tire of photographing them.
You might think I’m being a bit harsh on Moose. And perhaps I am. To his credit, he doesn’t just drop me off in the middle of creative nowhere. He continues to tinker in the background of the story.
One character leads to another. Take Jared Sparrow. His role in Charlee’s story was simply to provide a springboard for a major event. But thanks to Moose, Jared grew a personality all of his own and now I’m working on his story.
But wait—there’s more. To show you how deviously clever Moose is, Jared’s story, which I’m currently writing, has prompted another book with characters crying for attention. A character appeared in a scene in Jared’s book that I didn’t even know was there. Well played, Moose. Well played.
Inspiration? No, mine isn’t the classic lightning bolt of an idea fully formed that I frantically scribble down word for word. My inspiration is more like the slow drip of a faucet, where one imaginative drop blends into the next. And if I’m lucky enough to have stopped up the basin, they blend together in a basinful of ideas that I can meaningfully mold into a story.
Heartquake is just that. Inspired by the well-timed creative droplets of Moose, Charlee finds herself in a love story with Riley that defies her expectations against a backdrop of a small Ohio town that confronts the fracking industry, political corruption, and corporate greed. Charlee faces circumstances that tug at her conscience. The appalling conditions her neighbors face because of the fracking outrage her. But she’s fought one battle against a giant corporation, does she really have the energy to slay another Goliath? And if she does, what will become of her relationship with Riley?
Coffee shop owner, Charlee Lightheart, views corporations with contempt. She believes her father died at the hands of the pharmaceutical industry. When she's approached to run for city council on an anti-fracking platform, she's reluctant. She's not sure this movement is her cause.
Billionaire Riley Brockton has given up on love. Then he walks into Charlee's shop. All he wanted was coffee and muffins. From that first electrifying touch, he knows he needs more. He withholds one piece of vital information: he's a lionshifter.
A rogue reporter sets out to reveal the one secret that can destroy the anti-fracking movement and the couple's relationship. Can their love survive the truth and public exposure?
Excerpt
His hands seemed more like paws. Not destructive mauling paws of a feral beast, but the large loving ones of an animal dedicated to protecting those he loved. She feared if he kept his hand on hers too long, she would start to think about love at first sight again. Yet she didn’t move it.
When he did remove his hand from hers, she felt an immediate and crushing disconnect. She fell back to earth and experienced the gripping weight and limitation of the force of gravity. Did an astronaut experience this remorse and loss of freedom when he re-entered the earth’s atmosphere and found himself bound by gravity?
“I apologize,” he said, as he shook his head slightly. “I think I’ve overstepped my bounds. That’s not at all what I intended to happen. That was uncharacteristic of me.”
“Don’t be,” she said. She couldn’t take her gaze from his eyes.
“Pardon me?”
“Don’t be sorry.”
Speed dating with Terry:
Oxford comma, yes or no? Of course, the Oxford comma.
Coffee or tea or wine? Coffee, hands down. Black usually, but I do love a good caramel latte.
You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why? Annoying Sunbeam Yellow. After my first cup of coffee in the morning, I just don’t know when to shut up.
What are you known for? My friends think of me when they see a bad pun and send it to me. And I appreciate it.
Morning rooster, night owl, or midday lark? Definitely a morning person. I get my best writing done then.
What comes first, character or plot (or other)? Actually, a name pops into my mind, and I create a character based on that. Then the plot forms.
In the Sheriff’s Sights Book 2 of Rangers Romance Series by Susan Payne
Welcome back, Susan. What are we talking about today?
This is the second series I have written with a purpose. The first one I wrote without realizing it. The same characters kept showing up and (shoulder shrug) what else could I do?
Maybe, I best begin with the fact I am a ‘pantser’ which means I don’t use a long drawn-out format or outline. I begin where my characters dictate and pretty much act like a stenographer from there on. They usually have their own names already picked out even after I explain I just wrote a book about another Becky or whatever – they don’t care. It’s a done deal.
Also is the selected spouse-to-be. For both of them. Thank goodness they have always agreed on that even if one or the other have complicated things by already being engaged to someone else. That’s part of why they come to me. To help them out of where they are at and into where they wish to be.
Sheriff Josie Heinz knew Texas Ranger Ben Crocker would be trouble – just not the kind he turned out to be. He matched her in strength, intelligence and passion. Not a bad combination if she had wanted to trade in her badge for a wedding ring. Find it on Amazon.
I used to be afraid to mention the voices in my head, but after reading about other authors having mental arguments with their characters, which sometimes slip out into the ‘real’ world, I don’t feel so badly about. One daughter thinks I channel long dead couples, another just thinks I come up with interesting stories about people in ‘olden’ times. Either way, I am given little choice in the subjects or what they want in the end – a happy ever after life with their chosen love.
So as a pantser, I often am as surprised at the outcome as my readers. I mean we all know that romance is about finding ‘the happy ever after” and finding the man/woman of their dreams. They know they aren’t perfect. They know there are things that get in the way, but by the end, everyone is happy and in love and looking forward to a long life together.
That brings me back to the origin of this blog. My first series, The Sweetwater Series, was due to the characters reappearing like TV show cameos. Sometimes they had complicated messy lives and other times they were unforgettable characters that had to find their place. The second series, Midwest Mail Order Brides, centers on women from the Midwest states going west where their whole life changes in a matter of days. The Rangers Romance Series begin with a female sheriff wanting a life which includes a mate. While I was writing that, other lawmen came forward asking their stories be added so I now have a fourth Lawman Loves Series.
I feel blessed to have this bevy of possible couples line up to wait their turns for me to put their stories down on paper. I enjoy the story as it unfolds and I hope I do their words justice. My pleasure is to please my readers and tell the character’s stories as best I can. I hope not to disappoint.
~
Check out another series by Susan -
Midwest Mail Order Brides
Find Susan Payne online…
Finding Home Again by Darlene Fredette
Welcome, Darlene.
Tell us about what you write. I’ve written a few full fiction length novels, but most of my books are novellas.
What was your inspiration for Finding Home Again? I’ve always wanted to write a romance story with a suspenseful twist. Finding Home Again was my first attempt, and I think I nailed it. I will be adding more suspense in future stories.
Any new projects on the horizon? I am returning to Redford Falls, but with a different spin. A new sub-series – The Marleys of Redford Falls will focus on the five Marley brothers.
How about we dip into the new release…Here’s more info!
A missing dog, a potential poisoning, and a suspicious death. Will Jordan and Logan find their happy-ever-after before another mysterious accident occurs?
Caretaker of a historical home, Jordan McKenzie, promised to keep a secret, but doing so gets harder by the minute, especially when an innocent kiss misses its intended target. Entangled in a web of mysterious mishaps, she discovers a surprising family connection. Is putting her trust in her boss' handsome nephew a risk worth taking?
Chef, Logan Crane, returns to Redford Falls hoping to claim an inheritance to open a restaurant, but he side-lines his plan after meeting Jordan. When past secrets intermingle with a present attraction, will Logan open his heart to the possibility of a future in Redford Falls…and with Jordan?
Excerpt
“That kiss was meant for your cheek. You moved.” Jordan pulled on her helmet then waved a hand for Miska to jump into his seat. She tossed Logan his helmet. “You weren’t supposed to kiss me.”
“A beautiful woman plants one on me and I’m not to respond?” He stepped beside her and ran a finger down her cheek. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell your boyfriend our outing was strictly platonic anymore. Because I kissed his girl, and I liked it.”
Blushing, Jordan nudged her shoulder against his before getting into her ATV and driving away.
Logan shouldn’t have kissed her—and he shouldn’t have flirted. But dang it, he truly enjoyed both—and given the opportunity, he would do both again.
SPEED DATING TIME!
Ice cream (favorite flavor)? Pina Colada.
Coffee or tea or wine? French Vanilla Hot Chocolate.
What does your desk look like? Organized (I can’t write near a mess).
In an alternate reality, what would be your dream job (besides author)? A volcanologist.
Where is your favorite place you wish to visit? Australia and Ireland.
You have a time travel machine: past of future? Where/when? Past - to spend another day with my father.
What do you like to do when not writing? Paint.
Beach, lake, or mountains? Lake.
If you could meet one famous person, living or dead, who would it be? Carol Burnett.
How many hours a day do you write? If I get two uninterrupted hours in a day, that’s a good writing day!
Follow Darlene online: Website ~ Blog ~ Amazon Author Page
Romance Billionaires: yes or no? by Alana Lorens
Welcome back, Alana! Always a pleasure to have you visit my little corner of the web.
Alana Lorens (aka Barbara Mountjoy) has been a published writer for over 45 years, including seven years as a reporter and editor at the South Dade News Leader in Homestead, Florida. She writes non-fiction, romance, adventure, and suspsense novels. She is the author of the Pittsburgh Lady Lawyers series, which draws on her years as a family law attorney in the state of Pennsylvania. One of the causes close to her heart came from those years as well–the fight against domestic violence. She volunteered for many years at women’s shelters and provided free legal services to women and children in need. Alana resides in North Carolina, and she loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, and five crotchety cats.
So do tell us (because curious minds want to know), why does it seem that so many romance stories are written about billionaire heroes?
I mean, sure, we’d all like to marry a billionaire, I suppose. (I did have a friend who married an honest-to-god millionaire once; it still didn’t give her a happy ending.) Money is nice if you want to have all the things, but the old saying is true: it can’t buy you love.
While it’s true that I can’t write about those men, because I know nothing about how they are—And one should write what you know—I really prefer to write stories about real kinds of people. Lawyers. Cops. Veterans. Autistic kids. Singers. Bloggers. Environmentalists. Even guys in drug store management. These are people we can relate to on common ground. I suppose their limited budgets and need to show up at work every day may not be as exciting as discovering a hidden pleasure room or jetting off to Italy on a whim…but I’m happy to find love for them on any level.
What do you think? Do you like reading about real people or do you want to experience only the fantasy?
(note from Jean: I am all with you, Alana! I prefer a regular ol’ Joe hero).
Up-and-coming mommy-blogger and single mom Marisol Herrera Slade returns to her old hometown in western Pennsylvania for her 20th high school reunion in 2005, reluctant and yet compelled to see her high school sweetheart, Russell Asher, who dumped her for the homecoming queen.
Russell's marriage to the golden girl, however, ended in a nasty divorce, and he has been systematically excluded from his sons' lives. In his Internet wanderings, he's found feminist blogger named Jerrika Jones, who glorifies single motherhood, essentially putting a stamp of approval on what's happened to him. His group of single dad advocates have vowed to take this woman down.
What Russell doesn't know, when he thinks to rekindle what he had with Marisol, is that Marisol and Jerrika are one and the same. When his group discovers the truth, will their drive for revenge derail any chance the couple have to reunite? Or will they find they have more in common than they ever expected?
Find A Rose by Any Other Name online:
Amazon ~ Kobo ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Walmart
Speed-dating round:
Oxford comma, yes or no? Nope.
What does your desk look like?
It’s my official work place for everything from writing to grocery lists to mending socks to a place for one (or more) of nine cats to nap. So it’s…indescribable…most of the time.
In an alternate reality, what would be your dream job (besides author)?
Actually, I’ve been fortunate to have it in this reality—while I was a practicing family law attorney, I had a Department of Justice-funded program that provided civil law remedies to low-income survivors of domestic violence. Through this program we were able to help a number of men and women escape hellish situations. It was very, very satisfying.
Beach, lake, or mountains?
We’re in Asheville now, in the heart of the Blue Ridge. It’s beautiful, and having mountains on all sides is fabulous. I used to live in Missoula, Montana—now THOSE are mountains. On the other hand, I also lived in south Florida for a dozen or so years, just a handful of miles from the Florida Keys. So I’ve kind of had it all!
If you could meet one famous person, living or dead, who would it be?
Robin Williams. I would make him a cuppa, and give him a hug and tell him we understand, and he would be okay.
Now a bit more about the A Rose by Any Other Name:
An Excerpt ~
She started for the Sweet Spot coffee shop across the street, but hesitated when a silver Lexus squealed a U-turn in the center of Main, screeching to a stop and blocking her little rental there in its parking place. The door flew open, practically ejecting a tall, well-built man in jeans and a blue cotton shirt. His full attention focused on the vehicle in front of Marisol’s.
She couldn’t move as she belatedly recognized his large dark eyes and something in the piqued set of his jaw.
Russell Asher.
His hair wasn’t as solidly black as she’d remembered from the summer she left town. The jeans, no longer slim cut, though he wasn’t overweight. But it was him.
Nausea tumbled like panicked butterflies in her stomach. One hand slipped to her middle, almost trying to reassure her insides not to make her throw up right here. She never expected a sudden confrontation. She hadn’t prepared. But as she watched him, she saw she didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t interested in her in the least.
He marched over to the SUV and parked himself against its shiny fender. After several tries, she forced her feet to move, at least far enough to retreat inside the gazebo. She sat on the interior edge of the fence, half hidden behind a painted support beam, the shade from the maples overhead helping to conceal her. She couldn’t help it. She could have walked away, just left her vehicle and come back for it later, but the situation was a car wreck waiting to happen. She could tell by the tension in his shoulders and his hands, clenched into fists. No way she would miss whatever occurred next.
Soon after, Tiffany and the boys, one of whom looked about Mark’s age, one a little younger, returned from the shop. Tiffany, thin to the point of anorexia, stopped several yards from her car when she saw Russell there. The boys hung back behind their mother, affecting bored poses of crossed arms and blank skyward stares. “What do you want, Rusty?” Her voice carried clearly to the gazebo.
“To say hello to Jon and Barret. Since you haven’t let them come see me for the last three months.” He didn’t move off the car. “Hey, boys, come give your old dad a hug, hmm?”
The boys mumbled something Marisol couldn’t hear. If anything, they retreated toward the store, and finally the younger of the two, who looked maybe fifteen, bolted, heading back inside.
“That’s fabulous, Tiffy, just fabulous. What a great mother you are. So much for what our order says, right? That we’re supposed to encourage the children to love and honor the other parent?”
“What have you done worth honoring? Hmm?”
Find Alana Lorens online:
The Case of the Missing Botticelli by Marilyn Baron
Welcome, Marilyn!
What was your inspiration for the story and setting of this book?
I was inspired to write this cozy mystery series because it contains three of my favorite themes: Art history or stolen art, World War II and Italy. I set this book in Florence, Venice and Lake Como, Italy, all locations I’ve visited multiple times. I fell in love with Italy when I lived in Florence for six months, studying Italian and art history in college. On my last trip to Europe, before COVID, I visited all my old haunts in Florence and traveled to Rome, Lake Como, the Amalfi Coast and Capri. I’m currently working on Book 3 of the series.
Here I am relaxing on Lake Como and standing in front of The Birth of Venus:
Excerpt:
Hadley wrote down the phone number and her jaw went slack when she heard and inscribed the rest of the message. “Tell him it’s about a missing Botticelli. It’s urgent.”
A shot of adrenelin coursed through Hadley’s veins. Sandro Botticelli. Her favorite artist in the whole world. Creator of the Italian masterpiece, Nascita di Venere, The Birth of Venus, the ancient Goddess of Love, dated circa 1484. She wasn’t aware a Botticelli painting was missing.
“Is there any additional information you can give me? The name of the painting? The provenance? Capito. I understand the need for utmost secrecy. We can set up a meeting and I’ll make sure Signore Domingo will be there.”
She jotted down some more notes. “Piazzale Michelangelo? At sunset?”
Hadley tilted her head and chewed on her bottom lip. That was a strange destination for a business meeting. Although it offered the most scenic view of the city, perched atop a hillside overlooking Florence, meeting at a park after dark was reminiscent of a murder scene in a film noir. Where the heroine, Hadley, would later be found, dead, her virtue compromised and her throat slit.
Was the female caller from a museum? A high-end gallery? An auction house? Was she an art or antiquities dealer or a wealthy private individual or was she representing a government agency? And, if so, which government? Enemy or ally? She would soon find out.
A Massimo Domingo Mystery – Book 1
In this cozy mystery, American art history major Hadley Evans joins an art detective agency in Florence, Italy, working for Massimo Domingo, once a major player, now the ‘Inspector Clouseau’ of the art world. Determined to save the flailing agency and prove her worth, Hadley and her sexy Carabinieri boyfriend, Luca Ferrari, take on a mysterious client behind her boss’s back. Hot on the trail of a missing masterpiece, they discover a hidden cache of stolen Nazi art in a Venetian villa and encounter an enemy with a link to an evil past.
BUY LINKS: AMAZON ~ BARNES & NOBLE ~ APPLE
Words of advice for fellow writers:
Finish the book.
What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
Stracciatella Gelato. You can read my short story, Stracciatella Gelato: Melting Time, about a woman of a certain age who is transported back to her college days in Florence, Italy, as a result of a reverse Roma curse. Will she choose to come back? Amazon.com: Stracciatella Gelato: Melting Time (One Scoop or Two) eBook : Baron, Marilyn: Kindle Store
Marilyn Baron writes in a variety of genres from women’s fiction to historical romantic thrillers and romantic suspense to paranormal/fantasy. She’s received writing awards in Single Title, Suspense Romance, Novel with Strong Romantic Elements and Paranormal/Fantasy Romance. She was also The Finalist in the 2017 Georgia Author of the Year Awards (GAYA) in the Romance Category for her novel, Stumble Stones, and The Finalist for the 2018 GAYA Awards in the Romance category for her novel, The Alibi. Her latest novel, The Case of the Missing Botticelli: A Massimo Domingo Mystery, released January 24, 2022, is her 28th work of fiction. A public relations consultant in Atlanta, Marilyn is past chair of Roswell Reads and serves on the Atlanta Authors Series Committee. To find out more about what Marilyn writes, visit her website at: www.marilynbaron.com/
Marilyn Baron Social Media Links:
Website ~ Twitter ~ Author Facebook Page ~ Amazon Author Page ~ BookBub ~ Goodreads ~ Instagram ~ Pinterest: (1230) Pinterest
Gone Before by Terry Korth Fischer
Author Links: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Amazon Author Page ~ Goodreads Author Page ~ BookBub Author ~ Newsletter
Terry Korth Fischer writes short stories, memoirs, and mysteries. Her memoir, Omaha to Ogallala, was published in 2019. Followed in 2021, by her debut mystery, Gone Astray, introducing Detective Rory Naysmith, a seasoned city cop relocated to small-town Winterset, Nebraska. The Rory Naysmith Mysteries continue with Gone Before, coming in January 2022. Transplanted from the Midwest, Terry lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and two guard cats. When not writing, she loves reading, frolicking with the kittens, and basking in sunshine. Yet, her heart often wanders to the country's heartland, where she spent a memorable—ordinary but charmed—childhood. Learn more about Terry at her author website: https://terrykorthfischer.com
Buy Link: Amazon; Barnes & Noble
Tell us about Gone Before:
Find Gone Before: Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble
A murderer who doesn’t leave a clue. Small-town detective, Rory Naysmith, thought he’d seen it all, but a young woman’s brutal murder is especially hard to stomach. Doubly so, when he recognizes the murder’s MO is identical to that of Tobias Snearl, the killer he put behind bars a decade before. His frustration grows after a series of senseless accidents plague those dearest to him, and a second woman dies. Searching for answers, Rory races against time, plunging deep into the murder investigations, drawing ever closer to becoming a casualty of the dark, angry deeds himself, until he finds no one is who they pretend to be—and none are beyond evil’s reach.
How about an excerpt…
The detective studied the cloudless sky and tried not to think about his foot. It didn’t work. “Just use the crowbar to break one of these frickin’ stones loose.”
The jack handle didn’t do the trick. Opening the trenching tool and using the pick end, Thacker swung it against the largest stone. It bounced off the surface. Rory suppressed a scream as pain shot from his knee down his encased leg.
“Easy!”
“Sorry, boss.”
“Try removing one of the outer stones. Loosen them, and maybe we’ll be able to budge these. I’ll hold the light, and you make room for these damn jaws to unclasp. Try finding the cornerstone.” A fine layer of perspiration covered Rory’s face. He felt defeated and a little nauseous. He leaned back on his elbows and looked at the sky. “Thacker,” he said, “this is damn unlucky.”
The rookie moved down the mound to the edge of the pile. Using the crowbar and a lot of muscle, he attacked. Finally, he was able to roll one stone out of position. Then another. He was still three feet from Rory’s crevice, working his way toward the more enormous boulders and Rory’s ultimate freedom, when the rock he was prying loose rolled out of place. He hesitated. “There is something funny here, boss.”
“I could use a good laugh.”
“Not ha-ha funny, peculiar funny.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“There’s someone else in this rock pile.”
Let’s speed date, shall we?
Ice cream (favorite flavor)? Vanilla, plain and simple
Coffee or tea or wine? Stout, French roast coffee
What does your desk look like? Large with a view outside and a shelf for keepsakes.
What do you like to do when not writing? Reading or visiting with friends
Morning rooster, night owl, or midday lark? Morning, I love the early dawn hours
What comes first, character or plot (or other)? Characters
How many hours a day (or week) do you write? Usually 2-4 hours a day, many more ruminating.
You’re on a desert island, besides essentials, what do you bring? An e-reader loaded with books.
Body Conscious by Ana Diamond
Welcome, Ana!
Tell us about your book.
Mortician, Lily Reynolds is used to seeing bodies, but not the type murdered in her own funeral home. As Detective James Rivers zeroes in on her as the town’s number one suspect she must rise above the accusations and rumors to solve the case herself while keeping her attraction to the troubled detective at bay.
FIND the book online.
James has a past. The last time he let someone into his life she wound up dead. Vowing never to let that happen again he has sworn off dating for good. Until he meets Lily. In his gut he knows she’s not the murderer but pressure to solve the case puts him on the wrong trail while he struggles to keep Lily off the case.
Can she solve the case on her own or will their scandalous romance get in the way of proving her innocence?
Excerpt:
“That’s Detective James Rivers,” Abrams said. “He came all the way up from New York City to our little town in the scenic Hudson Valley. He’ll be the lead investigator on this case since I know you ladies will be frequent callers.”
“Let’s be clear, I’ve never called you,” Lily said. “It’s always been Shanna.”
Abrams gave her a coy smile. He seemed flattered by the idea.
“Nice to meet you, Detective Rivers,” Lily said, finally turning toward the man who approached them.
Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but not this—the angelic face with large sky-blue eyes, pronounced cheekbones and silken black hair. The only part of him that matched her ideas of what detectives looked like were his tattooed arms. She should know; her dad had been a cop.
May he rest in peace.
But James’s tattoos weren’t subtle. Snakes slid up his arms, past his rolled-up shirtsleeves, coiling around his thick forearms and biceps. One corner of his mouth lifted as he caught her staring.
Speed Round:
Ice cream (favorite flavor)? Cookies and Cream
Coffee or tea or wine? Coffee
What does your desk look like? It’s pretty empty. I have a glass of water, my phone and sometimes a cat.
What is your writing vice or must-haves? Headphones, for all the distractions.
Where is your favorite place you’ve visited (or wish to visit)? I went to Bora Bora on my honeymoon.
What do you like to do when not writing? Gym or shopping.
Beach, lake, or mountains? Beach
You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why? Glittery silver because who doesn’t like a little sparkle?
What are you known for? Dark humor.
Morning rooster, night owl, or midday lark? Morning rooster
What comes first, character or plot (or other)? Character
How many hours a day (or week) do you write? As many as my brain will let me.
You’re on a desert island, besides essentials, what do you bring? A way to get off the island.
Midwest Mail Order Brides by Susan Payne
Welcome back, Susan. What are we talking about today?
This year caught me off-guard. First because I thought most of the pandemic problems would be behind us and, also, I thought we would all be given a new beginning. We seem to have paid our dues and deserve to return to ‘normal’. Evidently, I was overly optimistic and may need to cut back on my zeal.
It takes more than ‘want’ to make a marriage work. Much more in the Montana desert with only the chickens, renegade Sioux braves, and an uncommunicative husband to interact with. How was Daisy to face years in this barren cabin?
I have signed with a new publisher. I still intend to continue with The Wild Rose Press. I have a new release with Wild Rose, a Regency titled The Perfect Arrangement, out in April, 2022. But that seemed like so far away and for me time is of the essence. Not that I know of anything that will take me out in a moment’s notice although that seems to be happening to my friends all around me. Let’s just say I am of a certain age where I don’t bother getting reservations to anywhere more than a week-out. With that in mind, I was eager to find another outlet for my work – trying to cover a certain check-mark on my bucket list.
I won’t need to write new stories for these unless a new one comes to me. I mean, when I decided to try to get my books published three years ago, I already had over 85 written. I have 25 more than that now which I refer to as my WIPs or ‘works in progress’. These range from a quickly jotted down idea of something I want to research more or a title and quick outline of the story. Even though I am a panster – the story forms so quickly sometimes – I have enough of an idea to go from the first line to the ending. In fact, I have begun with the ending more times than I like to admit. I mean the last kiss before the sun sets in the west sort of ending.
When Magnolia Blossom Publishing approached me through my website, I was pleasantly flattered. I mean we authors usually need to beat the doors down to get noticed by publishers and there is plenty of great talent out there to get lost in. I welcomed the ability to publish more work and I signed with them for certain stories. I have a Midwest Mail Order Brides Series with five books on the racks and will have another two series soon: Rangers Meet their Match and the other about Lawmen’s Loves.
I am blessed to have two such wonderful publishers handling my work. Neither need to wait since I live my writing. I never get writer’s block – always the opposite. I often need to tell the ‘people in my head’ to slow down a little so I can get everything they’re saying down on paper. Since these novels are already written, I go through and freshen them, tighten the word usage, throw out the words I over-use such as: that, look, and, was. I reread them to make sure the flow feels right and send them in. Is that cheating? I don’t think so. I am still writing new stories all the time. Some short and some novel length. My characters are happy to keep me informed of their lives.
I don’t wish to jab at fate. I am grateful for what I have been given while others are fighting for their lives back. I have lost loved ones and have faced frustrations. I have held-on to my escape into my character’s lives and pray for the world to right itself once again. I can only wish for the normal we all miss and hope we have enough patience to wait for it to return. Love to all…
Midwest Mail Order Brides Series by Susan Payne
Montana Lineman - Book 1
The Bride Wagon – Book 2
A Bride for His Brother – Book 3
A Mail Order Bride – Book 4
Leap of Faith – Book 5
Find Susan online:
The Wanting by Christina Strigas
Welcome to my author’s corner. What are you currently working on?
Presently, I’m working on a few projects. I’m writing a series with a cast of characters in the erotic romance genre. I’m also working on a collaborative poetry book with two poet friends. I have a manuscript that I’ve been working on for years on and off. I always have something in the making. The mind never stops.
Will you have a new book coming out soon?
In the Spring of 2022, Free Line Press will be publishing my new collection of poems, for all the lonely hearts being pulled out of the ground.
It is a poetry book that is more experimental than my other four poetry books. This will be the fifth one that I wrote a few summers ago after reading Bukowski’s poetry books. I wanted to experience more in-the-moment poems about everyday subject matters.
I’m excited to publish it with a small publishing company from France...explain company and philosophy. I have self-published all my poetry books, so this is the first one that will be published with a company.
The last poetry book that I published, Love & Metaxa, was accepted three times by various publishing companies, but due to the pandemic and some personal issues the companies were having at the time, I had to do it on my own. Along with the editorial assistance of Alexandra Meehan, it has received excellent reviews.
I’m excited about this poetry book because it is a different style and yet you can see that my voice is consistent.
When did you start writing?
Christina’s journals.
Writing has always been my go-to. It all started with journal writing in high school, which turned into writing poems. During one particular English exam, the teacher asked us to read a poem and analyze it. I must have finished in record time and felt so mindful writing down my interpretation. After class, everyone was saying, “What was that poem about, man?” I listened to everyone complain, and that's when I realized that I was different; that's when I realized I understood this poetic language better than my friends and classmates. Suddenly, my friends were making requests for poems, and I wrote poems every day during class. Can you write a poem about my boyfriend? I just broke up with my boyfriend? Can you write me a poem I can give him? Friends and acquaintances would give me scenarios, and I would recreate their love into a heartbreaking poem. If I would look back at those poems now, I may have a few somewhere in an old shoebox in the garage, and I would probably gag at how infantile and cliché they were, but at the same time, they were the poems that started this love affair with words so I can’t be too tough on myself. What kind of weird gift was this? Did I think to myself? This knack for writing poems for strangers. I wrote so many poems and then typed them out. During typing class, I recopied most of Jim Morrison’s poems for the fun of it. I suppose he was the first poet I adored. Listening to those albums, his poetry readings, and reading his lyrics changed my life. They made me see the world differently. It was a portal into the sky that a select few could grasp. Once I started college and discovered the vast aisles a library contained, I spent hours recopying poems onto lined paper. I sat on the floor under the Poetry section and knew the books off by heart. I recopied Wordsworth, T.S. Eliot, Shakespeare, Shelley, Virginia Woolf, on and on…
Then one day, nineteen-year-old me walked into a second-hand book store across from my university. I picked up The Selected Poems of Anne Sexton for a couple of bucks and fell in love with her writing style. Her poetry awakened something in me. Her poetry book is always close by me at any moment.
I started a blog in my thirties and started to share my poems online, which also helped me get out of my shell and share my work and ideas.
Who is your biggest influence today?
Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, and T.S. Eliot are poets that keep influencing me. Margaret Atwood is a goddess of writing. She keeps astounding me with her novels and poetry books. Atwood is the G.O.A.T. She can weave stories like a magician. She can write poems that clench your guts. Hers is the type of writing that keeps me grounded and makes me strive to achieve better daily.
Where did you grow up and how did that influence your writing/art?
I was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. My parents were hard-working Greek immigrants who came to Canada, struggled with the two languages and built a life here. I grew up in the city and moved to the suburbs when I was in elementary school. Living in the suburbs kept me focused on school and reading, but I have always been a free spirit and wild at heart. The city was full of life; we stayed up late; played hide-and-seek in the Montreal alleys with cousins and neighbors, and created fond memories that make me nostalgic. Moving to the suburbs opened up a whole new world for me; friends from other cultures and the abundance of sky and land to ride my bike and play outdoors without fear. I loved reading outdoors under the trees in my backyard for hours. I learned to enjoy the moments and breathe. It was a twenty-minute drive to Montreal; this made life always exciting. I studied English Literature at Concordia University, worked as a barmaid in Old Montreal, and taught adults part-time until I finished my degree. I learned so much about humanity by being a bartender at my boyfriend's pub and living the nightlife. We had live bands nightly at the pub, talked to all kinds of people from all walks of life, stayed up late until the sun came up, and lived every minute. My environment, my city, my culture have always played a role in my writing. My novel's locations are in Montreal. My poetry book, especially my latest, Love & Metaxa, includes poems about the city, life, family, love, death, being Greek, being raised in a Greek household and relationships with loved ones. Also, what it means to be a mother, daughter, wife, lover, and granddaughter coming from an immigrant family.
Do soulmates exist?
The Wanting is an intimate account of Serena and Teddy’s sexual awakening. They undeniably have a magnetic pull and connection that leads them to each other. It is an erotic tale of relationships and their internal struggles as told through dialogue with themselves.
One night, Serena and Teddy are out at a bar and they both meet and fall for another person. Serena meets Ben, an attractive eBook writer and Teddy meets Melina, a sexually charged school teacher. The story that unfurls, is a roller coaster ride of two erotic journeys. Questions arise...Are two people meant to be together? What is serendipity? Do soulmates exist?
The Wanting is a book about the confusion between sex and love. It is a modern romance into the mysterious world of sex and the power it holds over our minds.
Find The Wanting online: Amazon & Barnes and Noble & Booktopia
Have any travels away from home influenced your stories?
My family trips to Greece evoke memories that sometimes turn into poetry. In my novels, I like to research cities. In my novel Crush, I wanted it to be in St-Tropez. I had never travelled there, but I have researched it intensely. Half of the novel's location was in Montreal the other half was in St-Tropez. The familiarity of my city makes it easy for me to write. Travelling to different countries opens up my creativity and the artist in me.
When did you know you wanted to be an artist/poet?
I have been writing since high school, but when I was thirty-nine years old, I published my first novel. It's a long story how that happened, but essentially, I met a spiritual counsellor who did a tarot reading for me and told me that she saw me signing and writing books. Up until then, it all felt as if I would keep my writing in my drawers, but after that pivotal moment, I felt as if I had more stories inside me. I partnered with her to start chronicling her stories and wrote three books about her life through a first-person narrative. I wrote those three books over a couple of years, but writing them made me realize that I can be a writer and publish my work.
Another pivotal moment was in 2015 when my niece took my phone and opened up an Instagram account to share my poetry. At the time, I did not realize that her action would lead me to make connections and publish four poetry books.
How do you relax while not writing?
If only I knew how to relax; drinking coffee in the morning during the summer when I am off of work and catching up on all my writing projects is my way of relaxing. Oh, wait, did you say relax? I like to meditate, take long walks with my dog, read books, listen to music, and enjoy moments with family and friends. The only time I can truly relax is when I am on a beach, preferably in Greece, and reading books with no concept of time. I love spending time with my family and reconnecting. My recent hobby is painting. I am painting acrylic on canvas using various techniques/ My writing room has become a painting studio in one corner.
Who has helped you most with writing?
Alexandra Meehan has helped me the most with my writing. She is an excellent editor. Alexandra Meehan edited my poetry book, Love & Metaxa, but beyond her editing expertise, she and I are poetic soul mates. We can discuss and analyze poems and poetry for hours. She reads my poems and can dissect them or tell me how to improve them. Some of my poems are so long, once I get into my stream of consciousness, and Alexandra can chop up poems and tell me that I have two poems written instead of one. When Alexandra Meehan began editing my poems a few years ago, I finally realized how much I needed to improve my writing and become a better poet. She has made me see that poetry is all about showing and not telling. I owe her a debt of gratitude for her editing skills and her friendship.
About Christina…
Christina Strigas is an author and poet, raised by Greek immigrants, and has written four poetry books. Her popular poetry book, LOVE & VODKA, has been featured by CBC Books in, “Your Ultimate Canadian Poetry List: 68 Poetry Collections Recommended by you.”Her fourth poetry book, LOVE & METAXA, has just been released to rave reviews from Pank Magazine.
Strigas’s poems have appeared in Montreal Writes, Feminine Collective; Neon Mariposa Magazine; Pink Plastic House Journal; BlazeVOX; Thimble Lit Magazine; Twist in Time Literary Magazine; The Temz Review, and Coffin Bell Journal, to name a few. Her poem, “Dead Wife” was nominated for best of the net 2020.
She has also self-published a self-help/poetry book based on her popular quotes that went viral on Twitter. She writes romantic love poetry in a stream of consciousness narrative prose. Her influences are Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Mary Oliver, the Romantics, and Pablo Neruda.
Christina Strigas will be releasing The Wanting, an erotic romance novel with The Wild Rose Press, on Sept. 27, 2021. She will also be rereleasing Crush, a paranormal romance novel on October 13, 2021, with The Wild Rose Press.
Let it Snowball by Margot Johnson
Welcome, Margot!
Oh yummy…a Christmas cookie series book! Do tell us more about what you write. (PS, readers…there is a delicious cookie recipe below!)
I write feel-good stories about women who chase their dreams and bump into romance along the way. They live in small communities near my home in the Canadian prairies, and they count on an eclectic mix of family and friends to make their lives interesting and fun.
My new release is available as an eBook on Amazon and major online bookstores. I hope you agree it’s a fun way to celebrate the Christmas season!
In my story, the heroine, Merilee, shares her famous cookie recipe for chocolate snowballs. Maybe you’ll want to add it to your Christmas baking list.
Christmas tours brim with lights, cookies, and…unexpected romance?
Divorced, empty nester Merilee is on a roll. Filled with scrumptious cookies and old-fashioned fun, her Christmas bus tours aim to add festive spirit to her hometown and new meaning to her lackluster life. Too bad her reserved driver slams the brakes on fun.
Widowed farmer Ross needs a little joy to combat his December blues. Behind the wheel, he wears a Santa suit but can't muster a convincing ho-ho-ho. Too many memories block his road to happiness…until irrepressible Merilee sparks a snowstorm of unexpected feelings.
In two weeks of holiday tours, Ross might drive Merilee crazy…or will romance snowball inside their lonely hearts?
How about an excerpt?
After a short drive, the busload arrived at their first stop. “You’re in for a treat.” Merilee leapt up, leaned over, and gave directions on where to park. Absorbing Ross’s delicious scent, clean like snow infused with a trace of peppermint, she jerked back and steadied her breath. Sudden, shocking warmth flooded her insides. Now where was she? She paused to gather her wayward thoughts.
“These rules apply for each stop so we can all enjoy the goodies inside and still keep the tour on schedule. You are free to choose from several platters of cookies. If you would like to sample other kinds or take some home, you can purchase as many as you’d like. We’ll stay for thirty minutes, and then I’ll jingle.” She demonstrated with a string of bells. “Last one back on the bus has to tell a joke or lead a song. If you agree, shout snowball.”
“Snowball.” In a chorus of voices, the group hollered back the right answer.
She lowered the mic. “What about you, Santa?”
He shifted the gear into Park. “Nobody’s going anywhere without me.” He straightened his hat and quirked a fluffy eyebrow.
She smiled, folded her arms, and tapped a foot. Her boots were pretty eye-catching covered in green and red toppers with bells on the toes. Maybe she could cajole him into some good-natured joking. “Santa, you know what happens to kids who don’t behave. You don’t want to end up on the Naughty List, do you?”
“Snowball.” He kept a straight face.
Check out Margot’s other books…
Love Takes Flight ~ Love Leads the Way
Merilee’s Famous Chocolate Snowballs
More from Margot…
My writing tip: Don’t wait for the perfect idea or ideal moment. Just sit at your keyboard and write!
Inspiration for this story: I live in a place where winter storms and frigid weather are common. I also love Christmas.
Last year during lockdown, my husband and I couldn’t visit friends and family in person, so we delivered Christmas light necklaces to their doors and then connected online. We also bundled up for a walk on a minus forty degree day. I can imagine my characters Merilee and Ross sharing similar adventures.
One wish: I love hearing feedback from readers. I wish everyone who reads Let it Snowball would post a review.
Sending best wishes to you, your family, and friends for a very happy holiday season!
Connect with Margot online
Scarlet at Crystal River by Randy Overbeck
A NEW GHOST STORY
by Randy Overbeck
Crafting a new ghost story is no simple feat for me.
When I envisioned the Haunted Shores Mysteries, I set out to create something different. I wasn’t interested in imitating the terrifying, blood-curdling ghost tales of authors like Stephen King and Dean Koontz. At the same time, I didn’t want to go the route of the whimsical, all-too- helpful ghost, the kind popular with a number of cozy authors. Instead, I wanted to create ghost stories more closely rooted to reality.
Thanks to the work of scores of ghost hunting groups across the country, we now have considerable evidence of ghostly encounters—digital photos, audio and video recordings, recordings of thermal imaging and temperature fluctuations, EMF recordings as well as a few authentic artifacts—and these are forming a more complete picture of how the spirit world interacts with the living. For my series, I wanted to craft my fictional ghosts based largely on this documented evidence…with a bit of literary license, of course. I am writing fiction here.
At the same time, I realized my fictional ghosts had to carry a certain amount of “who-hoo” to entice the reader and keep the paranormal fan engaged. Too large a dose of reality might start the reader yawning and straying too far afield from these details might stretch the credibility of my tales. I realized I’m treading a thin line here and the composition of my ghosts is critical to making the narratives of my series work.
For the first entry, BLOOD ON THE CHESAPEAKE (2019), the ghost of a large black teen intimidates my hero, teacher and coach, Darrell Henshaw, when he comes face to face with the specter in his office. The youth, a victim of a racially-motivated killing decades earlier, stalks Darrell to get him to uncover the truth about the young man’s murder. Both Darrell and reader must have been suitably scared as BLOOD became a #1 Amazon Best-Seller last month.
In the second book, CRIMSON AT CAPE MAY (2020), Darrell encounters the ghost of a bride killed on her wedding night, the bloody evidence of her gruesome murder spilling down the front of her white wedding dress. Her appearance is enough to freak Darrell, with more than sufficient “woo-hoo” and a heavy dose of the reality of the murder as well. Readers have agreed as they push CRIMSON into the Bestseller category this fall.
For the third installment, SCARLET AT CRYSTAL RIVER (2021) I wanted to pursue a slightly different path. First of all, the story carries a greater romantic theme. Darrell and his new wife, Erin are on their honeymoon, traveling to the sunny Gulf coast of Florida. Second, SCARLET is a Christmas ghost story/mystery. So I had to balance the traditional elements of my series—cold case murder mystery, eerie ghost tale in a beautiful resort location—along with touches of a Christmas story. The ghosts for this tale had to fit this ambiance.
As I was pondering this as part of my plot planning, I happen to be reviewing some family pictures during the dark days of the pandemic. I came across a photo of my grandkids laughing and playing on a playground, years earlier. The inspiration for the story sprung from that picture. What if Darrell, a man dedicated to helping children, encountered the ghosts of two murdered children during the Christmas holidays? Talk about needy kids. The pieces for the narrative fell into place. This new ghost story would feature the ghosts of two immigrant children, two kids desperate for Darrell’s help…and like that, the narrative picture of the ghosts of SCARLET coalesced. Kind of like real ghosts.
Now, I’m waiting to see if my readers like my newest representatives from the spirit world. Fingers crossed. Early responses are good.
“Scarlet at Crystal River is an eerie paranormal mystery I couldn't stop reading. Randy Overbeck is a masterful writer of the paranormal, drawing the reader in before instilling shivers down the spine. 5+ stars." ★★★★★—N. N. Light's Book Heaven
Darrell and Erin thought they were heading to Florida for a carefree honeymoon, but the ghosts of two immigrants children haunt them, pleading for help.
All Darrell Henshaw wanted was to enjoy his honeymoon with his beautiful wife, Erin, in the charming town of Crystal River on the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida. Only a pair of ghosts decide to intrude on their celebration. And not just any ghosts, the spirits of two young Latino children. Unwilling at first to derail the honeymoon for yet another ghost hunt, Darrell finally concedes when a painting of the kids comes alive, weeping and pleading for his help.
When he and Erin track down the artist, they discover the children’s family were migrant workers the next county over. But when they travel there, their questions about the kids gets their car shot up and Erin hospitalized. Torn between fear and rage, Darrell must decide how far he will go to get justice for two young children he never even knew.
Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, author and speaker. As an educator, he served children for four decades in a range of roles captured in his novels, from teacher and coach to principal and superintendent. His thriller, Leave No Child Behind (2012) and his recent mysteries, the Amazon No. 1 Best Seller, Blood on the Chesapeake, Crimson at Cape May and Scarlet at Crystal River have earned five star reviews and garnered national awards including “Thriller of the Year--ReadersFavorite.com, “Gold Award”—Literary Titan, “Mystery of the Year”—ReadersView.com and “Crowned Heart of Excellence”—InD’Tale Magazine. As a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Dr. Overbeck is an active member of the literary community, contributing to a writers’ critique group, serving as a mentor to emerging writers and participating in writing conferences such as Sleuthfest, Killer Nashville and the Midwest Writers Workshop. When he’s not writing or researching his next exciting novel or sharing his presentation, “Things Still Go Bump in the Night,” he’s spending time with his incredible family of wife, three children (and their spouses) and seven wonderful grandchildren.
Social Media Handles
YouTube ~ TikTok (@authorrandyo)