Ginger Simpson's Blog, page 48

Lost In His Eyes - Reviewed by Cold Coffee Press

 Let Logan Carruthers Be Your Next Hero!, October 25, 2015By Cold Coffee PressVerified Purchase(What's this?)This review is from: Lost In His Eyes (Kindle Edition)Homesteading in the Oklahoma Panhandle in 1894 is getting harder every day, “Hot winds drove a herd of tumbleweeds across endless acres of sod, broken and dried by the late July sun. The devastating drought in Oklahoma continued, leaving everything parched or dying.”

A small cast of well-developed characters bring the story to life as Miss Harlee Wagner accidentally falls into the family well while gathering a bucket of water. Days later and near death, was this stunning man a figment of her imagination, or was he, her long awaited hero?

Fast-pace action, adventure, mystery and romance keeps the reader turning the pages seeking answers to this most unusual mystery.

I quote a passage from the book to show Ginger Simpson’s writing style and the questions Harlee has on her mind. “Harlee took in the scenery again, but her mind wandered. Homesteads much like the one Pa had staked claim to, sat back from the trail, gardens withered, heat waves spiraling upward, and an occasional dust devil swirling in the distance. How did those twisting demons develop when the ground had turned stone-like from the absence of moisture? Could humidity cause enough dampness? Although the area hadn’t had rain for some time, some days were filled with ‘heat you could wear’, as Logan said. Today was one of those days. Harlee’s top clung to her like a second skin; perspiration beaded her forehead and dampened her hair. How she wished she had her old straw hat, but that had disappeared along with her family.”

Cold Coffee Press endorses Lost In His Eyes by Ginger Simpson as a warm, realistic, 1800 period romance published by Books We Love. Thirty plus books have given Ginger Simpson the notoriety that she has earned as a romance author.

I invite you to read (just to name a few); Lost In His Eyes, Ages of Love, Arizona Sky, Betrayed, Dancing Fawn, Destiny's Bride, Discovery, Ellie's Legacy, First Degree Innocence, Hattie's Heroes, Sarah's Heart and Passion, Shortcomings, Time Tantrums and Yellow Moon.

We were given this book in a Kindle/PDF format. This review was completed on October 25, 2015. For more information please visit Cold Coffee Press.
You can find a copy at http://store.payloadz.com/details/2383628-ebooks-romance-lost-in-his-eyes.html  YOU'REIN LUCK....THERE'S A BUY ONE GET ONE FREE SALE GOING ON RIGHT NOW!

Movie Quote Trivia ~ Halloween Edition ~ by Jamie Hill

Time for another game of Movie Quote Trivia. This one is in honor of Halloween! I'll give you three quotes, ones I consider easy, medium, and Movie Buff! And this month I've included a bonus scary movie quote. Can you name the movie and better yet, the character who said the lines? Try not to cheat!
1) Easy ~ “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

2) Medium ~ “I am your number one fan. There is nothing to worry about. You are going to be just fine. I am your number one fan.” 

3) Movie Buff ~ “Have you checked the children?”

Bonus scary movie quote:

“There’s a monster outside my room, can I have a glass of water?” 

Come back Thursday for the answers. Have a great week! 

Sunday Snippets from Sarah's Soul *WIP* with Ginger #sundaysnips

Today I'm sharing a snippet from Sarah's Soul...my current work in progress.  Please know this is from an unedited version and is the first draft.  Things can change, and often do.
Sample:
The phone was ringing when Sarah unlocked the door.  The police had removed the tracking device right after George died so Sarah had had the telephone mounted to the wall.  She left the door open and rushed to pick up the receiver, hoping for good news.  “Hello.”
“You feeling safe, Sarah?”  A deep voice turned her blood cold.
“Who is this?” Her hands shook, but she made frantic motions toward the phone  to grab Marie’s attention.
“Someone who plans to finish the job poor ol’ George started.” His words send a shiver up her spine.
“Why?  Do you know me?”  Sarah’s fright drove her determination to discover who wanted her dead.  She put her hand over the mouthpiece.
“Marie,” she whispered. “Phone Daniel on your cell and tell him the calls are starting again.”
“Who am I? Oh, we're somewhat acquanted.  Enough for me to know Marie is still there and most likely calling the police, but they aren’t going to find me by trying to discover where this call originated.  I’m not that stupid.  I won’t call again because you alreadyvknow I’m going to make sure to take Sarah’s Soul.  See you soon.”
Sarah hung up and sagged into a dining room chair. “Not again.  Please Lord, not again.”  She covered her eyes to mask her tears.
Marie bent and hugged her. “Don’t cry Sarah.  Daniel is coming right over.  He’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Sarah jerked up her head. “There is no bottom.” She sniffed.  “The man on the phone said he won’t call again because I already know I’m going to die.  There’s nothing Daniel can do. Whoever is making these calls wants to torture me too.  Why else would he  warn me instead of just snuffing me out?”
*****Now....please hop on over to the other gals who post on Sundays, and check out their offerings:


http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
http://romancingscifi.blogspot.com (Vijaya Schartz)
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
If you get a page that has an old post...just realize that life sometimes happens, and then check back next week.  I've missed a few myself and probably will again.  The holidays are almost upon us.  Thanks for checking in and we hope you keep coming back.  Sadly, we've lost Jamie Hill, but I'm seeking a replacement.  If anyone is interested in driving traffic to your own blog, please email me.

Welcome Shirley Martin to Dishin' It Out!

Blurb for “Magic Mountain”Gold!  Legend tells of a fortune in gold, hidden in a cave at Misty Mountain, in a land faraway. Princess Olwen must find the treasure . The neighboring warlike country of Volanar has held her brother hostage for years and demands a fortune to free him.  Olwen’s country of Airenn Tir is too poor to pay the ransom.  Her father doesn’t believe the legend of hidden gold and refuses to send anyone to search for the treasure.So she’ll find the gold herself, Olwen determines.  Disguised as a man and traveling alone, she leaves in the dead of night and travels to a distant land to find the treasure.  Painful surprises await her, for she has no idea she’ll encounter a land of magic . . . and danger.In Volanar, the king sends his son, Prince Garth, on a mission to find the gold.  The king must have more money to wage war against Airenn Tir.  He knows something the king of Airenn Tir doesn’t know, something his soldiers discovered while occupying part of that land.  Greenstone lies beneath the earth, a precious gem believed to protect people against fatal illnesses.By accident, Olwen and Garth meet at an inn, neither knowing they have the same goal.  Agreeing to travel together, they each make up a story to mask the true reasons for their trip.  When they both realize they seek the same treasure, trouble follows, and plenty of it.When Garth discovers that Olwen is a woman, he fights his blossoming attraction for her.  He must not fall in love with her, for they are enemies, each seeking the treasure for their countries.  Too soon, Olwen discovers that Garth is a prince, from the very country that is holding her brother hostage.  She wants nothing more to do with him and travels on alone. The evil sorceress, Gitta, vows to seize all the gold for herself and kill anyone who stands in her way. Who reaches the treasure first becomes a matter of life or death5 star review***********Magic Mountain - Adventure, Intrigue and Romance!By Nancy Bell on October 11, 20153 of 3 people found this review helpful
Magic Mountain by Shirley Martin

A great read!

A runaway princess seeking to discover gold to ransom her kidnapped brother finds herself in all kinds of hot water. Disguised as a young man, Olwen sets out to find a stash of mythical gold. Along the way she befriends a fellow traveler, who unbeknownst to her is seeking the same treasure. Many trials and tribulations have to be endured before the story roars to its satisfying end. A wonderful adventure full of intrigue and romance. If you enjoyed Magic Mountain take a moment to look up Ms. Martin’s other books. *********
 Chapter Seven “Now, madam, please tell me your real name.”  Dawn was breaking over the meadow, sunlight glimmering on the lake, its waters sparkling like diamonds.  Bird song trilled from the trees, a sound that had awakened her.  She stood before Garth, ready to continue her journey.  
 Olwen’s face heated. “Wh-what do you mean?”  Just how much had he seen last night?  She’d thought he was asleep when she went swimming.  

 “I mean this.”  Garth reached over and grabbed her cap off, and spiked hair jutted out from her head.  “So I’ll ask you again, what is your real name?”
 Her heart sank, her stomach churning.  Smoothing her fingers over her tousled locks, she turned away for a moment, then faced him again. “Olwen,” she murmured.  What would he do now?   Leave her to travel the rest of the journey alone?  But that had been her original plan, so why should she care? 
 He nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.  So tell me the reason for your journey.  And I must say it’s surprising indeed to see such a well-bred lady as you traveling by herself.”
 “Which is why I posed as a man.”
 “And not doing a very convincing job of it.”
 Despite his apparent displeasure with her, she saw how his gaze roamed over her, his eyes alight with interest; dare she call it passion?  She looked up at his blond hair, tousled in the breeze, his straight nose and firm mouth.  He stood tall and well-built, as if no man could ever get the best of him. What would it be like to be enclosed in his arms, his lips on hers?  A rush of warmth captured her body.
 But it was not to be.  He fixed a stern look on her. “And your reason for traveling to Misty Mountain?”
 ‘None of your business.  If you recall,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm, “I started on this sojourn alone.  It was you who asked to accompany me.”   She shook her head. “I’m not beholden to you. And I’m perfectly capable of continuing this trip by myself.” 
 He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.  He gestured toward the horses. “We’re wasting our time.  Let’s go.”  He turned away from her, but not before she saw the look of chagrin on his face.  She should have been happy that she’d gotten the best of him in this discussion. Then why did a feeling of discomfort settle over her?
You can find your very own copy on Shirley's Books We Love Page.

Welcome Peggy L. Henderson to Dishin' It Out - Orphan Trains

My recent book release,  In His Arms  (Book 3 in the Blemished Brides Series) deals with a young woman who is not only facing a physical handicap, but she was also a rider of the orphan train.  

There is so much history to be found with the Orphan Train movement, which gave me the creative freedom to come up with my own circumstances for my characters. The number of orphans or children of poor and destitute families continued to climb from early colonial days well into the nineteenth century. Private charities were established to care for these children, and the New York Orphan Asylum Society was one of the first private children’s charity, formed in 1806. It required that children be placed as soon as they received basic education. By 1854, the first annual report by the Children’s Aid Society reported that there were at least 10,000 vagrant children in New York. Publicly funded programs failed to adequately deal with these orphans, which gave rise to over 100 private charities between 1850 and 1860. Many of these charities placed these children into indentured servitude for boys by the age of 12 and girls by the age of 14. Due to the lack of jobs in the eastern states, charities began sending the children to rural areas in the west where child labor was needed. This soon became known as the Orphan Train Movement, a phrase first used in 1854. These children could be placed anywhere, with no geographical restrictions. The participating charities would ask the families who received the children to sign an agreement that the child would be accepted into the family, but there was generally very little enforcement or oversight. Committees were formed in towns where the orphan trains would stop, and advertisements would be placed in local newspapers announcing the children. Prospective families could specify what child they were looking for ahead of time.  The children were usually placed into two groups - those who were selected for adoption and those who were not. Selected children went home with their families. The others got back on the train and rode to the next stop. Siblings were often separated from each other and, in many cases, never saw each other again.  The orphan train movement ended in 1929, partly due to labor no longer being needed in the west, and railroad expansion in the US was finished and most railroads no longer subsidized the charities for moving the children.
Excerpt from  In His Arms :

“You didn’t tell me what happened to your leg.”Grace glanced down, his words taking her off guard. She shook her head slightly. “It’s an old injury,” she stammered. “A wagon wheel ran over my leg when I was younger. It was never set properly.”The corners of Levi’s eyes twitched as they narrowed. He looked unsure, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to say any more than was necessary. When he finally spoke, it was a low grumble. “I rode the orphan train, too.” Grace’s eyes widened, and she stared up at him. The cold air around her vanished. Their eyes connected and held, as if some invisible string suddenly wound itself around them, and neither could look away. She shared a connection with this man through the orphan train? “How’d you and your sister end up in Montana Territory?”He asked his question before she could open her mouth to find out how he’d ended up in a remote cabin in the mountains. Grace swallowed back the constricting feeling in her throat. How much should she tell him? Not that it mattered. She and Rose were two of so many who had faced a similar plight. “I only have vague memories of my life on the streets of New York,” she began. “My family was too poor to properly care for me and Rose. To bring home food, I was sent to beg in the streets.” She sniffed, and wiped the back of her hand under her cold nose, and laughed scornfully. “When a vegetable vendor accidentally ran over my leg with his cart, my father had thought it a lucky turn of events. He said that folks would take pity on me, and give me more money.”“He never took you to get your leg set by a doctor?” A spark of anger blazed in Levi’s eyes. Grace laughed again. “He would rather spend any money we received on liquor than getting me seen by a doctor.” She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, letting the mist swirl around her face. “My mother died in childbirth, along with my baby brother when I was about ten. Soon after, Pa left one morning and never came back. I took care of Rose on my own, until an Alms House picked us up. Years later, we were put on a train and sent out west.” She shrugged to hide her pain, and gazed off into the distance as old memories resurfaced. How would her life have turned out if she’d stayed in New York? Her hope for a future there had been just as bleak as it had been on the journey west. No one wanted a cripple. No one, until Harlan Randall took a look at her during one of the adoption stops. Why her sister kept getting passed over time and again remained a mystery, but then again, many of the orphans rode the train for years, with no hope of finding a family willing to take them in. 

Peggy L HendersonWestern Historical and Time Travel Romance“Where Adventure Awaits and Love is Timeless”
Author of:Yellowstone Romance SeriesTeton Romance TrilogySecond Chances Time Travel Romance SeriesBlemished Brides Western Historical Romance Series                Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iTunes | Blog |Facebook |Facebook Group | Pinterest | Twitter |mailing list

Picture Me Happy

This is me doing my happy dance (if only I looked like that.)  Roseanne Dowell is going to take Jamie Hill's place as my blogging partner.  Hooray.  Look for posts from Roseanne starting in November.

Picture me Sad

Jamie has just contacted me and explained she has to bow out of being my blog partner here.  You can continue to enjoy her posts until the end of the month, but that's it.  Jamie, besides working outside the home, managing a family, and being an author, also works for Jude at Books We Love.  I'm not surprised she's in total overload.  :)

I'd like to publicly thank here for all her interesting shares, and for bringing new friends to the site.  I'm hoping to persuade Roseanne Dowell to continue the journey with me, or else I may have to give up the ghost.

I love all of you who keep following Dishin' It Out, and I hope I'll be able to continue to post interesting fodder for you to read.

Thanks, Jamie.  I hate to see the month end, but I totally understand.

Think Before You Post by Jamie Hill

I'm a Wizard of Oz collector, so naturally when I saw a photo of Dorothy and the Scarecrow on Facebook yesterday I had to stop and take a look. Turns out it was a meme that someone created, and someone else shared, basically saying Democrats don't have brains. 
I didn't know what to think about it and at first I didn't comment because I like the person who shared the post. Then I made a simple comment about how I think it's going to be a long election season. Nothing more. 
Later I realized that my FB friends were now liking the meme because I had commented on it. I immediately deleted my comment because I don't want my friends thinking I agree with the sentiment. I don't. 
I have never been a political person. Most people don't know I'm a registered Democrat, nor do they know--or will they ever know--who I may have voted for in the past, or who I will vote for in the future. Voting is a right, a privilege, and I agree it's the duty of people who vote to be as informed as possible before casting a ballot. I don't vote strictly along party lines because that would be crazy. Not all Democrats are good, not all Republicans are bad. But a meme like the one I saw posted yesterday would make someone think that all Democrats are brainless, and I beg to differ. I've been a Democrat for thirty-five years at my best guess, and it feels like I still possess my brain.
I understand that some people are passionate about subjects like politics. I'm just trying to figure out how a meme like the one I saw helps anyone or anything. I have the "Think" poster above in both my home and work place offices because it's pretty keen advice. Regarding the meme- Is it true? (No) Is it helpful? (No) Is it inspiring? (No) Is it necessary? (No) Is it kind? (Hell No)
Granted, most of what's posted on Facebook isn't necessary, but it has other purposes. If it can make someone smile, then it has a purpose. Perhaps that meme made some people smile. It made me sad. I try not to post things that I know will make other people sad. I have some FB friends that have posted, "If you're going to show me photos of abused people and/or animals, understand that you will be unfriended. I don't need or want to see that crap in my news feed." I've always just scrolled past it myself, even though I don't want to see it either. 
This election season promises to be a trying one. Americans are going to have to listen, study the facts, vote their heart and then pray that the right person will be elected. I understand that I can expect plenty more political posts on FB. I just hope they serve a purpose other than trying to knock any particular group of people down. That really does make me sad. 
 

Sunday Snippets with Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

This week I'm sharing a few teasing lines from Dancing Fawn.  I hope I entice you to want to read more:


Within the ring of stones, colorful flames rivaled each other for height as the wood sizzled and cracked apart. Green Eyes leaned on her husband’s shoulder and enjoyed the rare serenity. Her son, seven-year-old Little Cloud, was spending the night with his grandmother. One full moon had passed since Broken Feather’s burial ceremony, and the child’s continued presence in his grandmother’s lodge eased her loneliness.
For the past two weeks, Lone Eagle had met daily with the elder tribesmen, and tonight he seemed lost in thought. 
Green Eyes tickled his ribs. “Where are you? Your body sits with me, but your mind wanders. We should be making better use of our time alone.”
“I’m sorry, but I have much to think about.” He sounded unusually somber. “Now that I am Chief, my first concern is the well-being of our people.”
Our people. His words touched her heart. Relations with the whites were strained, and messengers from other tribes continually brought news of raids, kidnappings, and killings. Outsiders made her nervous, and she only felt secure with Lone Eagle’s people—her people.

The anguished look on her husband’s face bothered her. This wasn’t the time to think only of herself. “What worries you most, my husband?”  She grasped his hand.
“I fear we will be drawn into war. At the Elder’s Council, there was talk of the white man’s continued encroachment on our land. They violate our treaties, and we can no longer move about safely. Slaying buffalo has become their sport, and our brothers are being killed for no reason. If our tribe had not separated from the rest of the Oglala, we would already be living on a white man’s reservation. There is no way we will surrender our freedom. If surviving means war with the whites, we will fight.”
Her throat constricted. “Where will that leave me?”  She forced the words. “Will our people turn against me because of my skin color?”
***********
You can find Dancing Fawn via my Books We Love Page.  You simply click on the cover and you're taken to a purchase page.  I've done the work for you...click here.
Now....please hop on over to the other gals who post on Sundays, and check out their offerings:
http://authorjamiehill.blogspot.com/  (Jamie Hill)
http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)
http://romancingscifi.blogspot.com (Vijaya Schartz)
http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)
http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)
If you get a page that has an old post...just realize that life sometimes happens, and then check back next week.  I've missed a few myself...summer time is camping time and we don't always have Internet access.  Thanks for checking in and we hope you keep coming back.

Social Time Suck!!! #facebook #social media

This past week, my youngest son deactivated his Facebook page.  Seeing his intention posted on a group he moderated brought mixed emotions.  How would I be part of his life now?  I used FB to follow his actions, laugh at his posts, and agree with a lot of his political rants.  Now, I wouldn't have that opportunity.  Some jerk had the nerve to post in Brett's comments, that maybe he didn't want Mom hanging around.  Really?  It's not like I was a piece of gum on his shoe.

After a chat with my sister, Glynda, and listening to her point out my options, I decided I could do the same.  I use my pages to promote myself but I'm always worried that no one sees them.  Sure, people "like" my posts, but I don't see any significant inrease in my book sales, so am I truly spending my time wisely? Is making money more important than connections with friends?

When I think of the number of authors who do the same thing I do...every day, regularly:  Log on, share posts on Google, Pinterest, FB and Twitter.  Sharing on Twitter takes much more time for me because I belong to Triberr, which requires that I login and approve up to 75 tweets to share for others in a reciprocial agreement...you know, you share mine and I'll share yours?

I also decided that while I love my FB friends, following family is often painful and depressing.  While part of me is happy to learn of their plans, I wonder why I wasn't invited, or, even more, when I comment on a post they've made, I'm often shocked at the tone and intent they read into my words that were never meant to be there.  So...what are my options?

I can deactivate my FB page, get rid of my author's page, and create ONE new page under a different name and recruit only friends that appreciate me.  OR....I can leave things as they are and suck it up.
Friends I connect with on FB - A mini-reunion.
After giving my dilemma much thought, I've decided that few people would know me under another name, and why should I put them through one more step to be my friend? Because of slanderous comments on my older son's FB page and his lack of coming to my defense, I no longer follow his posts.  I love him to the moon and back, but I guess I'm not nearly as thick-skinned as I'd like to think, so  if I don't say anything, I can't open myself up to hurt. I've decided my best option is to  stop commenting on other people's posts, unless of course I have something worthwhile to add, and spend my time doing other things.  I have a layer of dust that could stand my attention.  *lol*

Being an author is much harder than it used to be.  Now, those who reviewed my work back in the day have decided to write their own books, and the competition is overwhelming.  Plus, promoting and marketing itsn't cheap, and when your royalty check barely covers a happy meal, the investment comes right out of your own pocket.  Writing isn't for sissies...or poor people.  *smile*

 The landscape of the industry has changed...especially with Amazon spearheading the sales market and so many people assuming self-publishing is the route to take.  It may well be for the seasoned authors, but those who haven't learned the fundamentals through the editing process are creating a bad image for the rest of us.  Then, add it the "trolls" who prowl Amazon, Goodreads and other public review sites, for books they can dissect or destroy, and you wonder why you still want to be involved.  I can answer that...even after listing all the problems.  I love to write.  Even more...I'm addicted to FB.