Pamela S. Thibodeaux's Blog, page 49
August 11, 2018
#SaturdaySpotlight is on Tony Paul de Vissage and Absinthe Eternal
Good Morning!
Last year I introduced you to Tony-Paul de Vissage and his book Essence of Absinthe . Today Tony returns with a sneak peek into book 3 of his trilogy, Absinthe Eternal so please welcome him back!
David Varine, star of Ghost Search International, a highly-rated supernaturally-themed reality show, is on assignment. At the request of the New Orléans Historical Society, he’s come to the Big Easy to prove the stately old mansion called Nouvel Espoir is haunted.
It’s said the spirit of Absinthe, accursed son of the original owner, haunts the mansion, with his lover, but David’s a skeptic. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, curses, and any of that ‘supernatural hogwash.’ He’s only in the ghost-hunting business for the money.
Once inside Nouvel Espoir, however, David’s skepticism rapidly disappears. There are too many odd things happening, things he can’t ignore. When his cameraman arrives, the two will be forced to face whatever walks the mansion by night.
Absinthe wants something from them…but what…?
EXCERPT:
As I arrived at the top of the stairs, however, I saw that the door to what I’d already begun to think of as my bedroom was ajar.
Hadn’t Kathy pulled it shut as she followed the others out? I remembered…every room they went into, she entered first but was always the last to leave, shutting any doors behind her.
“Maybe it didn’t close properly.” I spoke aloud, one of my defenses against latent creepiness. Some people whistled in the dark; I talked to myself. Loudly.
Crossing to the door, I stopped, then looked back.
“Something’s different. What…?” It took me a moment to realize I’d walked through the cold spot on the landing, only now, it wasn’t cold. Hurrying back, I stood where I’d experienced that frosty breath and icy shiver. I exhaled, blowing out loudly.
Nothing. Not even a wisp of vapor.
An episodic cold spot. Never seen that before. I didn’t like that.
Abruptly, I got that someone’s-watching-me feeling, that little prickle of the skin. I spun, pushed the door wider and hurried inside…and skidded to a halt, staring at the figure sitting in the chair.
The Absinthe mannequin reclined in the hearthside chair, exactly as it had before.
“Well, now.” To my own ears, my voice sounded forced, too loud. “How did you get back in here?”
I was certain Kathy had been with the group as we went downstairs. Did she linger behind, going back into Étienne’s bedroom and retrieving the figure, replacing it in the chair before she joined the others?
Possibly. I couldn’t say definitely she was with them every minute. All I remembered was watching her guide everyone to the front door.
Maybe she had orders that the mannequins had to stay in their assigned room, and she’d removed it only to placate that one uneasy tourist, and then had to put it back.
“Unh-uh.” I held up a finger, waggling it back and forth as if the mannequin were about to offer some excuse for its return. “None of that.”
It remained silent, of course, staring at me out of those remarkable green eyes.
I asked myself what I would’ve done if there had been a sound just then, even the creak of a beam…
What the hell’s the matter with me? I never get spooked like this. Anger rose at that. I’m David Varine, GSI’s chief investigator, and scary stories don’t frighten me. Besides, I don’t believe in this stuff.
Stooping, I wrapped an arm around the figure’s waist and lifted it as Kathy had. It was remarkably light. Carrying it across the hall, I opened the door to the other bedroom, and with the barest hesitation, stamped inside.
I dropped the figure unceremoniously into the chair, Damned if it doesn’t resemble the portrait. The face was framed by black, shoulder-length hair. It had the thickness and texture of real hair. I wondered if it was. Had some human’s flowing locks been purchased for this artificial being?
Thinking back to what Kathy had said about Absinthe, I realized if he’d actually looked like this. If so…oh, the boy must’ve been a beauty…the killer handsome kind.
I rummaged mentally for my college French. “Bon nuit.” With a jerky bow—and why did I do that?—I hurried to the door and went out, slamming it behind me.
I was stepping across the threshold into my own room when I heard the faint creak. I glanced back.
The door to Étienne’s room slowly and gracefully swung open.
My...oh my!.....if you're into Sci-Fi, fantasy, horror and thrillers this sounds like your kind of read! Absinthe Eternal can be purchased in paperback exclusively from Class Act Books! Also available on Kindle.
A writer of French Huguenot extraction, one of Tony-Paul de Vissage's first movie memories is of being six years old, viewing the old Universal horror flick, Dracula's Daughter on television, and being scared sleepless—and he’s now paying back his very permissive parents by writing about the Undead.
TP currently has 22 novels published with Class Act Books. His novel The Night Man Cometh was voted one of the Top Ten horror novels of 2011 by the Preditors & editors Readers Poll for that year, and in 2013, the first entry in his Second Species series, Shadow Lord, was awarded the same honor. The Last Vampire Standing placed second as Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by the Paranormal Romance Guild.
Learn More about Tony-Paul at: Facebook Pinterest
Amazon Author’s Page and Twitter: @tpvissage
Hope you enjoyed today's spotlight and that you'll join us weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God Bless. PamT
Last year I introduced you to Tony-Paul de Vissage and his book Essence of Absinthe . Today Tony returns with a sneak peek into book 3 of his trilogy, Absinthe Eternal so please welcome him back!
David Varine, star of Ghost Search International, a highly-rated supernaturally-themed reality show, is on assignment. At the request of the New Orléans Historical Society, he’s come to the Big Easy to prove the stately old mansion called Nouvel Espoir is haunted.It’s said the spirit of Absinthe, accursed son of the original owner, haunts the mansion, with his lover, but David’s a skeptic. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, curses, and any of that ‘supernatural hogwash.’ He’s only in the ghost-hunting business for the money.
Once inside Nouvel Espoir, however, David’s skepticism rapidly disappears. There are too many odd things happening, things he can’t ignore. When his cameraman arrives, the two will be forced to face whatever walks the mansion by night.
Absinthe wants something from them…but what…?
EXCERPT:
As I arrived at the top of the stairs, however, I saw that the door to what I’d already begun to think of as my bedroom was ajar.
Hadn’t Kathy pulled it shut as she followed the others out? I remembered…every room they went into, she entered first but was always the last to leave, shutting any doors behind her.
“Maybe it didn’t close properly.” I spoke aloud, one of my defenses against latent creepiness. Some people whistled in the dark; I talked to myself. Loudly.
Crossing to the door, I stopped, then looked back.
“Something’s different. What…?” It took me a moment to realize I’d walked through the cold spot on the landing, only now, it wasn’t cold. Hurrying back, I stood where I’d experienced that frosty breath and icy shiver. I exhaled, blowing out loudly.
Nothing. Not even a wisp of vapor.
An episodic cold spot. Never seen that before. I didn’t like that.
Abruptly, I got that someone’s-watching-me feeling, that little prickle of the skin. I spun, pushed the door wider and hurried inside…and skidded to a halt, staring at the figure sitting in the chair.
The Absinthe mannequin reclined in the hearthside chair, exactly as it had before.
“Well, now.” To my own ears, my voice sounded forced, too loud. “How did you get back in here?”
I was certain Kathy had been with the group as we went downstairs. Did she linger behind, going back into Étienne’s bedroom and retrieving the figure, replacing it in the chair before she joined the others?
Possibly. I couldn’t say definitely she was with them every minute. All I remembered was watching her guide everyone to the front door.
Maybe she had orders that the mannequins had to stay in their assigned room, and she’d removed it only to placate that one uneasy tourist, and then had to put it back.
“Unh-uh.” I held up a finger, waggling it back and forth as if the mannequin were about to offer some excuse for its return. “None of that.”
It remained silent, of course, staring at me out of those remarkable green eyes.
I asked myself what I would’ve done if there had been a sound just then, even the creak of a beam…
What the hell’s the matter with me? I never get spooked like this. Anger rose at that. I’m David Varine, GSI’s chief investigator, and scary stories don’t frighten me. Besides, I don’t believe in this stuff.
Stooping, I wrapped an arm around the figure’s waist and lifted it as Kathy had. It was remarkably light. Carrying it across the hall, I opened the door to the other bedroom, and with the barest hesitation, stamped inside.
I dropped the figure unceremoniously into the chair, Damned if it doesn’t resemble the portrait. The face was framed by black, shoulder-length hair. It had the thickness and texture of real hair. I wondered if it was. Had some human’s flowing locks been purchased for this artificial being?
Thinking back to what Kathy had said about Absinthe, I realized if he’d actually looked like this. If so…oh, the boy must’ve been a beauty…the killer handsome kind.
I rummaged mentally for my college French. “Bon nuit.” With a jerky bow—and why did I do that?—I hurried to the door and went out, slamming it behind me.
I was stepping across the threshold into my own room when I heard the faint creak. I glanced back.
The door to Étienne’s room slowly and gracefully swung open.
My...oh my!.....if you're into Sci-Fi, fantasy, horror and thrillers this sounds like your kind of read! Absinthe Eternal can be purchased in paperback exclusively from Class Act Books! Also available on Kindle.
A writer of French Huguenot extraction, one of Tony-Paul de Vissage's first movie memories is of being six years old, viewing the old Universal horror flick, Dracula's Daughter on television, and being scared sleepless—and he’s now paying back his very permissive parents by writing about the Undead. TP currently has 22 novels published with Class Act Books. His novel The Night Man Cometh was voted one of the Top Ten horror novels of 2011 by the Preditors & editors Readers Poll for that year, and in 2013, the first entry in his Second Species series, Shadow Lord, was awarded the same honor. The Last Vampire Standing placed second as Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by the Paranormal Romance Guild.
Learn More about Tony-Paul at: Facebook Pinterest
Amazon Author’s Page and Twitter: @tpvissage
Hope you enjoyed today's spotlight and that you'll join us weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God Bless. PamT
August 9, 2018
#ThursdayThoughts with David Arp (AKA Boo Riley)
Good Morning!
Well, you're in for another treat as I, once again bring you a new-to-me author to share some thoughts with us.....
When I see a family—parents and children—in passing, I watch the children. Are they clinging to each other? Are they walking apart from Mom and Dad? Do they make eye contact with strangers or, more importantly, with their parents? I didn’t used to look at kids in this manner, not until I began writing “Me and Jake”, and looked back some events in my life.
Siblings fight because they are comfortable in their relationship and they know that the love is unconditional. They’ll never leave each other. Call your brother names. Tell your mom you hate her. They’ll forgive you. The love of/from family is the closest to God’s unconditional love as you can experience in this lifetime.
On the other side of that coin: “Never treat a friend like family. They don’t have to put up with you.”
It’s not always true, but siblings who cling to each other and never fight are uncomfortable in a relationship with someone, somewhere. Whether divorce, parents fighting, abuse, or any number of questionable circumstances that causes them to guard and cherish the only relationship they know they can count on for comfort and stability.
It’s been said that a man’s home is his castle and so it is. To some it might be a prison too.
David Arp (AKA Boo Riley) was born in Arizona, raised in Texas, and lives in Colorado. He’s 60, but has only spent half of the past 40 years at home. The other half he traveled and worked the oilfields of the world, from the deserts of the Middle East to the vast oceans offshore. When he’s not busy on a drilling rig, he spends his time writing, floating a river in his raft fly fishing, horseback, or hunting. Find out more about David by visiting his Website and connecting with him on Facebook. David's book, Me and Jake is available now at Pelican Book Group and Amazon in Ebook and Print!
Thank you so much David for sharing with us. We wish you the best of luck and God's blessings with your new book.
Hope you enjoyed today's post as much as I did and that you'll stop by regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God Bless.
PamT
Well, you're in for another treat as I, once again bring you a new-to-me author to share some thoughts with us.....
When I see a family—parents and children—in passing, I watch the children. Are they clinging to each other? Are they walking apart from Mom and Dad? Do they make eye contact with strangers or, more importantly, with their parents? I didn’t used to look at kids in this manner, not until I began writing “Me and Jake”, and looked back some events in my life.
Siblings fight because they are comfortable in their relationship and they know that the love is unconditional. They’ll never leave each other. Call your brother names. Tell your mom you hate her. They’ll forgive you. The love of/from family is the closest to God’s unconditional love as you can experience in this lifetime.
On the other side of that coin: “Never treat a friend like family. They don’t have to put up with you.”
It’s not always true, but siblings who cling to each other and never fight are uncomfortable in a relationship with someone, somewhere. Whether divorce, parents fighting, abuse, or any number of questionable circumstances that causes them to guard and cherish the only relationship they know they can count on for comfort and stability.
It’s been said that a man’s home is his castle and so it is. To some it might be a prison too.David Arp (AKA Boo Riley) was born in Arizona, raised in Texas, and lives in Colorado. He’s 60, but has only spent half of the past 40 years at home. The other half he traveled and worked the oilfields of the world, from the deserts of the Middle East to the vast oceans offshore. When he’s not busy on a drilling rig, he spends his time writing, floating a river in his raft fly fishing, horseback, or hunting. Find out more about David by visiting his Website and connecting with him on Facebook. David's book, Me and Jake is available now at Pelican Book Group and Amazon in Ebook and Print!
Thank you so much David for sharing with us. We wish you the best of luck and God's blessings with your new book.
Hope you enjoyed today's post as much as I did and that you'll stop by regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God Bless.
PamT
August 7, 2018
#TuesdayTreasures Guest Post by Matt Mikalatos
Good Morning!
It is with great pleasure I bring to you another new-to-me Tyndale author as Matt Mikalatos shares something he treasures with us. So please give him a great, big WELCOME!
This may seem a strange sort of treasure, but there it is: my hammock. My wife bought me that hammock when I graduated from seminary. (You may notice evidence of other treasures in the balloons behind it . . . our youngest daughter just had a birthday!)
Every summer day I have a tradition. I spend at least a half-hour in my hammock. It could be reading a book, or hanging out with my wife, or talking to the kids. On special occasions there might be a nap. On the worst days there could be wasps involved and a great deal of swatting and nervous shouts.
The core of the treasure, though, is this: my family wholeheartedly supports this tradition. They come to spend time with me on the hammock, but they don't come to ask for work to get done, or for me to fix problems. The hammock is a place for our family where any one of us can get away for a momentary break from whatever pressing business happens to be going on elsewhere in the household.
One of the things I love about this tradition and this hammock is that it returns me to the world refreshed and more appreciative of the other things going on in our lives. My family loves it too. For Father’s Day last year, they bought me another hammock that’s easier to take with us places, and a third hammock small enough to throw in a backpack for trips to the park or for when we’re traveling.
I hope you have a space like this, where you can get away (even without leaving) and enjoy a few moments of rest and relief. Most often, I use this space for my summer reading . . . nothing from work, just escapist books that I most enjoy, with no guilt or acknowledgment of pressing deadlines.
If you’re looking for a book for your treasured hammock time, I hope you’ll consider The Crescent Stone , a fantasy novel I wrote that is specifically designed to be the sort of entertaining summer read I most enjoy when I’m hanging (yes, I had to use this pun at least once) in the back yard.
Matt Mikalatos writes books (surprise!). In the past, Matt worked as a high school teacher and a comic book clerk, but currently focuses on nonprofit work devoted to helping people love one another despite their differences. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife, three daughters, two unicorns, a gryphon, a dragon, and three brine shrimp. Find out more by visiting his Website.
His latest book, The Crescent Stone can be purchased at Amazon and Tyndale.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless.
PamT
It is with great pleasure I bring to you another new-to-me Tyndale author as Matt Mikalatos shares something he treasures with us. So please give him a great, big WELCOME!
This may seem a strange sort of treasure, but there it is: my hammock. My wife bought me that hammock when I graduated from seminary. (You may notice evidence of other treasures in the balloons behind it . . . our youngest daughter just had a birthday!)Every summer day I have a tradition. I spend at least a half-hour in my hammock. It could be reading a book, or hanging out with my wife, or talking to the kids. On special occasions there might be a nap. On the worst days there could be wasps involved and a great deal of swatting and nervous shouts.
The core of the treasure, though, is this: my family wholeheartedly supports this tradition. They come to spend time with me on the hammock, but they don't come to ask for work to get done, or for me to fix problems. The hammock is a place for our family where any one of us can get away for a momentary break from whatever pressing business happens to be going on elsewhere in the household.
One of the things I love about this tradition and this hammock is that it returns me to the world refreshed and more appreciative of the other things going on in our lives. My family loves it too. For Father’s Day last year, they bought me another hammock that’s easier to take with us places, and a third hammock small enough to throw in a backpack for trips to the park or for when we’re traveling.
I hope you have a space like this, where you can get away (even without leaving) and enjoy a few moments of rest and relief. Most often, I use this space for my summer reading . . . nothing from work, just escapist books that I most enjoy, with no guilt or acknowledgment of pressing deadlines.
If you’re looking for a book for your treasured hammock time, I hope you’ll consider The Crescent Stone , a fantasy novel I wrote that is specifically designed to be the sort of entertaining summer read I most enjoy when I’m hanging (yes, I had to use this pun at least once) in the back yard.
Matt Mikalatos writes books (surprise!). In the past, Matt worked as a high school teacher and a comic book clerk, but currently focuses on nonprofit work devoted to helping people love one another despite their differences. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife, three daughters, two unicorns, a gryphon, a dragon, and three brine shrimp. Find out more by visiting his Website.His latest book, The Crescent Stone can be purchased at Amazon and Tyndale.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless.
PamT
August 4, 2018
#SaturdaySpotlight is on Suzanne D Williams & She Loves Me In The Spring
Hello and Welcome!
Today it is my pleasure to introduce to you another new-to-me author!
Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE.
To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalog of stories, visit www.feelgoodromance.com or link with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthoror on Twitter at twitter.com/SDWAuthor.
Brielle Hensley had her future all planned out. She’d designed the perfect wedding, picked the most beautiful dress. From the reception to the start of her married life, she knew what came next. Standing at the altar, however, her groom nowhere in sight, all those plans crumbled around her. She should have known better. The last thing her fiancé would ever do was embrace commitment.
Bradford Barrow wanted to kill his younger brother for running out on his bride. He’s not really that surprised, though. Being a husband, taking on the responsibility of having a wife, was far more something he’d do himself. He’d always been the dutiful son, the faithful employer. His entire life is about doing what’s expected of him and checking off the tasks on his ever-present lists.
Yet, sent to make a formal apology the next day, he and Brielle make a rash decision – to go on her honeymoon together. She needs to shake off his brother’s betrayal, and he needs to do something impulsive for once. Except, what begins innocently enough soon takes on a life of its own, and it could be that the acceptance they’ve both been looking for comes from the most spontaneous thing of all – love.
Excerpt:
The fact she was supposed to be on her honeymoon hit her with a jolt, and the remaining portion of the word became a long cry. Her legs gave one once more, and once more, Bradford caught her, but this time she gazed upward with the strangest urge to kiss him. His head dipped the tiniest bit as if the same urge gripped him too, then both of them yanked back, her stumbling into the lamp, which shivered at the contact, the lampshade tilting oddly sideways.“You … should go,” he said.Brielle focused. “Go where?”“On the honeymoon. Be spontaneous like you said.”Go on the honeymoon. Well, she could. The room had been reserved, although she’d missed her flight, but surely, there was another aimed right for the islands. But spend six days alone? Doing what? If she knew herself, she’d watch TV and cry a lot. Raid the in-room fridge.“I’m never spontaneous either,” he continued. “Good ol’ Bradford, stodgy bachelor chasing Mommy’s skirts until he turns forty.”“Come with me.”She started that she’d said it, and he started that he’d heard it, apparently.“You want me to come on your honeymoon?”“Well … yeah. You said you weren’t spontaneous, and I know I’m not. So let’s try together. I’m sure the room has a couch or something one of us could use, and we’ll do all the things me and Walton had planned. It’ll be more fun with somebody. Keep me from crying and …” Once more, her face threatened to dissolve into tears.“No, no, don’t cry.” Bradford rushed toward her. Grasping her shoulder with one hand, he blotted her tears, unsuccessfully, with his fingers. “Walton’s an ape. I’m so angry at him for this. He has the most beautiful woman willing to put up with his antics and …” He silenced suddenly. “I would never run out on you. You are beautiful. I … I really like the red hair.”Brielle smiled, in spite of her mood.“And, I guess, moments ago we almost …” He hushed again.“Yeah, we did.”Stating it made them both laugh, though it sounded jittery. The sound faded into awkward silence.“Are you serious about me going with you?” he asked, breaking it.Thinking on it, she nodded. It was crazy, but in a cool way. She could either seize the day, as they said, and make this weekend the best she’d ever had, or she could sit here and mourn something that, being honest with herself, shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Walton was handsome and funny and a half-dozen other adjectives, but they’d had nothing in common. She’d known that all along but denied it. She was the girl with the list, and he was the guy, scribbling on the page. She needed, not a scribbler like him, but a pencil, someone who liked the list, but checked those boxes.“Your mom …” she began.“Loves you,” he finished. “She’ll think I’m nuts and try to talk me out of it, so I won’t tell her yet … I’ll go.”Brielle leapt in place. “Y-you will?” She blinked. He nodded. “You pack a bag, and I’ll run home and grab a few things. I’ll come back for you in, say half an hour?”“O-okay.”Tickets. She needed to see about plane tickets. She could do that while he ran home. And pack her things, which were mostly packed already … except for the portion she’d pulled out when she got home yesterday. The sexy negligee she’d cut into tiny pieces. But she wouldn’t need a negligee for six days with Walton’s brother.A lump formed in her throat.Bradford felt his pocket for his keys and, releasing her, dashed for the door. “Half an hour. I’ll be back. I promise. Bradford Barrow nevermisses an appointment.” Smiling at her from the opening, he turned his back and pulled it shut behind him. She’d bet that was true. Still … Had she just agreed to spend six days in a honeymoon suite with Walton’s older brother? Was that spontaneous or stupid?
She Loves Me In The Spring : The Non-Honeymoon (Barrow Bros. Brides Book 1) can be purchased at Amazon!
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
Today it is my pleasure to introduce to you another new-to-me author!
Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE.
To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalog of stories, visit www.feelgoodromance.com or link with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthoror on Twitter at twitter.com/SDWAuthor.
Brielle Hensley had her future all planned out. She’d designed the perfect wedding, picked the most beautiful dress. From the reception to the start of her married life, she knew what came next. Standing at the altar, however, her groom nowhere in sight, all those plans crumbled around her. She should have known better. The last thing her fiancé would ever do was embrace commitment.Bradford Barrow wanted to kill his younger brother for running out on his bride. He’s not really that surprised, though. Being a husband, taking on the responsibility of having a wife, was far more something he’d do himself. He’d always been the dutiful son, the faithful employer. His entire life is about doing what’s expected of him and checking off the tasks on his ever-present lists.
Yet, sent to make a formal apology the next day, he and Brielle make a rash decision – to go on her honeymoon together. She needs to shake off his brother’s betrayal, and he needs to do something impulsive for once. Except, what begins innocently enough soon takes on a life of its own, and it could be that the acceptance they’ve both been looking for comes from the most spontaneous thing of all – love.
Excerpt:
The fact she was supposed to be on her honeymoon hit her with a jolt, and the remaining portion of the word became a long cry. Her legs gave one once more, and once more, Bradford caught her, but this time she gazed upward with the strangest urge to kiss him. His head dipped the tiniest bit as if the same urge gripped him too, then both of them yanked back, her stumbling into the lamp, which shivered at the contact, the lampshade tilting oddly sideways.“You … should go,” he said.Brielle focused. “Go where?”“On the honeymoon. Be spontaneous like you said.”Go on the honeymoon. Well, she could. The room had been reserved, although she’d missed her flight, but surely, there was another aimed right for the islands. But spend six days alone? Doing what? If she knew herself, she’d watch TV and cry a lot. Raid the in-room fridge.“I’m never spontaneous either,” he continued. “Good ol’ Bradford, stodgy bachelor chasing Mommy’s skirts until he turns forty.”“Come with me.”She started that she’d said it, and he started that he’d heard it, apparently.“You want me to come on your honeymoon?”“Well … yeah. You said you weren’t spontaneous, and I know I’m not. So let’s try together. I’m sure the room has a couch or something one of us could use, and we’ll do all the things me and Walton had planned. It’ll be more fun with somebody. Keep me from crying and …” Once more, her face threatened to dissolve into tears.“No, no, don’t cry.” Bradford rushed toward her. Grasping her shoulder with one hand, he blotted her tears, unsuccessfully, with his fingers. “Walton’s an ape. I’m so angry at him for this. He has the most beautiful woman willing to put up with his antics and …” He silenced suddenly. “I would never run out on you. You are beautiful. I … I really like the red hair.”Brielle smiled, in spite of her mood.“And, I guess, moments ago we almost …” He hushed again.“Yeah, we did.”Stating it made them both laugh, though it sounded jittery. The sound faded into awkward silence.“Are you serious about me going with you?” he asked, breaking it.Thinking on it, she nodded. It was crazy, but in a cool way. She could either seize the day, as they said, and make this weekend the best she’d ever had, or she could sit here and mourn something that, being honest with herself, shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Walton was handsome and funny and a half-dozen other adjectives, but they’d had nothing in common. She’d known that all along but denied it. She was the girl with the list, and he was the guy, scribbling on the page. She needed, not a scribbler like him, but a pencil, someone who liked the list, but checked those boxes.“Your mom …” she began.“Loves you,” he finished. “She’ll think I’m nuts and try to talk me out of it, so I won’t tell her yet … I’ll go.”Brielle leapt in place. “Y-you will?” She blinked. He nodded. “You pack a bag, and I’ll run home and grab a few things. I’ll come back for you in, say half an hour?”“O-okay.”Tickets. She needed to see about plane tickets. She could do that while he ran home. And pack her things, which were mostly packed already … except for the portion she’d pulled out when she got home yesterday. The sexy negligee she’d cut into tiny pieces. But she wouldn’t need a negligee for six days with Walton’s brother.A lump formed in her throat.Bradford felt his pocket for his keys and, releasing her, dashed for the door. “Half an hour. I’ll be back. I promise. Bradford Barrow nevermisses an appointment.” Smiling at her from the opening, he turned his back and pulled it shut behind him. She’d bet that was true. Still … Had she just agreed to spend six days in a honeymoon suite with Walton’s older brother? Was that spontaneous or stupid?
She Loves Me In The Spring : The Non-Honeymoon (Barrow Bros. Brides Book 1) can be purchased at Amazon!
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
August 2, 2018
#ThursdayThoughts with Jacqueline Seewald!
Good Morning Friends!
It is ALWAYS a pleasure to welcome a dear friend to our blog and today's guest is no exception. Jacqueline Seewald has shared treasures with us and been in our spotlight but today she's here to share some thoughts so please give her a huge WELCOME!
As I grow older, I can’t help noticing the rapid changes in our society. Technology has changed our lives in both good and bad ways. I still refuse to use a smart phone although most of the people I know can’t understand this. As of now, I keep a flip phone just in case of emergencies and still use a landline. You can’t find a telephone booth anymore and so you really must have your own phone when you travel about.
Last Thanksgiving, one son and daughter-in-law invited the family and some friends over for dinner. I couldn’t help noticing that one of our daughter-in-law’s friends sat down after the meal on a couch with her husband and two sons. They did not speak or look at each other or anyone else. They simply took out their phones and proceeded to text or surf the net. I found this troubling.
I set my latest young adult novel, WITCH WISH from Black Opal Books, in 1985, a time when teens were communicating verbally with others not using electronic devices. The story is set in motion with a bit of magic but it actually examines the human psyche. Although the protagonist is a teenager, the novel is a good read for adults, like my two previous young adult novels published by Clean Reads/Astrea Press, THE DEVIL AND DANNA WEBSTER and STACY’S SONG.
Here is an excerpt from the beginning of WITCH WISH:
Central New Jersey, 1985My sister Ailene pulled the car to the side of the road, reached over and opened the door on the passenger side.“Get out right now!” Ailene spoke through gritted teeth.“No way!”“Yes, way. You’re an obnoxious brat. I don’t have to put up with you, and I won’t for another minute.”Maybe I had gone a tad overboard in the rude department today, but she’d deserved it. I had to stand and wait while she giggled and gossiped with her airhead friends by the lockers for what seemed like forever. I stood there being ignored and feeling like a leper. Then finally when she finally turned to me all she said was: “Come on. Hurry up.” Like she’d done me this great honor giving me a ride home.Now she was all indignation. Well, I wasn’t going to stand for it. “I’m not getting out of the car,” I said.Unfortunately Ailene’s taller and weighs more than I do. She shoved me out, hurled my backpack after me and drove off, burning rubber. She didn’t even look back. So there I stood at the side of a rural road with no idea exactly where I was. Ailene had veered off the main highway when traffic stopped. There’d been an accident on the highway. No way of getting through any time soon. That pissed her off too. She’s not the most adaptable individual. It was a warm afternoon. I didn’t mind walking, but the road was totally unfamiliar. I’d have to travel back in the direction of the highway. From there, I could find my way. Maybe my sister had done me a favor. Anything was better than being around her. She found me annoying but I felt the same way about her. As I walked, I fantasized.Cheerleader shot dead at football game--mystery as to who pulled trigger. As a student of journalism I considered this possible headline. Were I to murder my sister, I wouldn't want to be caught.Don’t judge me in haste. If you had a sister like Ailene, you'd probably hate her too. I’d like to say Ailene was nasty, selfish and spoiled, but it wouldn't be true. I have my share of faults. Lying isn't one of them. The truth? Ailene was polite, intelligent, beautiful, and even charming—when it suited her.So why did I hate her? Maybe because she was everything I wished I could be but didn’t think I ever would be. Someone like Ailene, who was so much better than most people, you envied, idolized or hated her. It wasn’t easy living in the same home with perfection day after day. A house came into my line of vision. It was an old Colonial with white clapboard shingles and black shutters that had paint peeling. There was an old woman sitting in a chair with all kinds of items set out on folding tables in cardboard boxes. I guess she was having a garage sale. I figured I’d stop and ask for directions back to the highway. She was kind of creepy looking dressed all in black. But she was the only person around. So I walked over to her. She stood up, smiling through crooked yellowed teeth.“I’m kind of lost,” I said.She nodded. “I can see that.” She had dark, penetrating eyes. She studied me in an eerie way that made my blood freeze.“Can you direct me back to Route 516?”“Certainly. But first why don’t you look at these things I have for sale. They are unique.”“Sure,” I said, figuring to humor the old gal. I began looking around. She had a lot of weird stuff, old crap that I had no interest in. But I figured if I offered to buy something I maybe could get the directions quicker. So I glanced at the stuff on one of the tables. A polished wooden box caught my eye.“I see you like my music box. Actually, I have a bit of a collection.” She picked up the box and wound it up. “It plays Fur Elise by Beethoven.” I listened and liked what I heard. “How much does it cost?”“Whatever you can afford.”I was surprised. I checked the pocket of my jeans. I had some allowance money with me but there wasn’t much. “I’ve only got four dollars.”“Just the right amount,” she assured me. “There is just one thing about the box itself.” She hesitated. “You see, how should I put this, the box has a certain unusual quality. If I bestow ownership upon you, the music box will grant you a wish.”I blinked and stared at her open-mouthed. Clearly the old lady was a few slices short of a loaf.“Sure,” I said, trying to appear agreeable and humor her. “Great.”“You don’t believe me, do you?” She gave me a knowing smile. Then she laughed, except I swear it sounded more like a cackle. The wind lifted her long, steel gray hair giving her an otherworldly look. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. But I think I should warn you. Once you open the box and make a wish out loud, you won’t be able to take it back. You get only one wish, you understand. So think carefully about it. Make certain you wish for something you truly want.”You can read more about the novel here:
https://black-opal-books.myshopify.com/products/witch-wish
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DRB3VVH
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/witch-wish/id1401568260?mt=11
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witch-wish-jacqueline-seewald/1128937209?ean=2940162153894 Comments welcome!
Multiple award-winning author, Jacqueline Seewald, has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and an educational media specialist. Nineteen of her books of fiction have been published to critical praise including books for adults, teens and children. Her short stories, poems, essays, reviews and articles have appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies such as: THE WRITER, L.A. TIMES, READER’S DIGEST, PEDESTAL, SHERLOCK HOLMES MYSTERY MAGAZINE, OVER MY DEAD BODY!, GUMSHOE REVIEW, LIBRARY JOURNAL, PUBLISHERS WEEKLY and THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR. Her writer’s blog can be found at: http://jacquelineseewald.blogspot.com
Thanks so much Jacqueline for visiting with us today!
I pray you've enjoyed Jacquie's post as much as I have friends and that you'll check back weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God Bless.
PamT
It is ALWAYS a pleasure to welcome a dear friend to our blog and today's guest is no exception. Jacqueline Seewald has shared treasures with us and been in our spotlight but today she's here to share some thoughts so please give her a huge WELCOME!
As I grow older, I can’t help noticing the rapid changes in our society. Technology has changed our lives in both good and bad ways. I still refuse to use a smart phone although most of the people I know can’t understand this. As of now, I keep a flip phone just in case of emergencies and still use a landline. You can’t find a telephone booth anymore and so you really must have your own phone when you travel about.
Last Thanksgiving, one son and daughter-in-law invited the family and some friends over for dinner. I couldn’t help noticing that one of our daughter-in-law’s friends sat down after the meal on a couch with her husband and two sons. They did not speak or look at each other or anyone else. They simply took out their phones and proceeded to text or surf the net. I found this troubling.
I set my latest young adult novel, WITCH WISH from Black Opal Books, in 1985, a time when teens were communicating verbally with others not using electronic devices. The story is set in motion with a bit of magic but it actually examines the human psyche. Although the protagonist is a teenager, the novel is a good read for adults, like my two previous young adult novels published by Clean Reads/Astrea Press, THE DEVIL AND DANNA WEBSTER and STACY’S SONG.
Here is an excerpt from the beginning of WITCH WISH:
Central New Jersey, 1985My sister Ailene pulled the car to the side of the road, reached over and opened the door on the passenger side.“Get out right now!” Ailene spoke through gritted teeth.“No way!”“Yes, way. You’re an obnoxious brat. I don’t have to put up with you, and I won’t for another minute.”Maybe I had gone a tad overboard in the rude department today, but she’d deserved it. I had to stand and wait while she giggled and gossiped with her airhead friends by the lockers for what seemed like forever. I stood there being ignored and feeling like a leper. Then finally when she finally turned to me all she said was: “Come on. Hurry up.” Like she’d done me this great honor giving me a ride home.Now she was all indignation. Well, I wasn’t going to stand for it. “I’m not getting out of the car,” I said.Unfortunately Ailene’s taller and weighs more than I do. She shoved me out, hurled my backpack after me and drove off, burning rubber. She didn’t even look back. So there I stood at the side of a rural road with no idea exactly where I was. Ailene had veered off the main highway when traffic stopped. There’d been an accident on the highway. No way of getting through any time soon. That pissed her off too. She’s not the most adaptable individual. It was a warm afternoon. I didn’t mind walking, but the road was totally unfamiliar. I’d have to travel back in the direction of the highway. From there, I could find my way. Maybe my sister had done me a favor. Anything was better than being around her. She found me annoying but I felt the same way about her. As I walked, I fantasized.Cheerleader shot dead at football game--mystery as to who pulled trigger. As a student of journalism I considered this possible headline. Were I to murder my sister, I wouldn't want to be caught.Don’t judge me in haste. If you had a sister like Ailene, you'd probably hate her too. I’d like to say Ailene was nasty, selfish and spoiled, but it wouldn't be true. I have my share of faults. Lying isn't one of them. The truth? Ailene was polite, intelligent, beautiful, and even charming—when it suited her.So why did I hate her? Maybe because she was everything I wished I could be but didn’t think I ever would be. Someone like Ailene, who was so much better than most people, you envied, idolized or hated her. It wasn’t easy living in the same home with perfection day after day. A house came into my line of vision. It was an old Colonial with white clapboard shingles and black shutters that had paint peeling. There was an old woman sitting in a chair with all kinds of items set out on folding tables in cardboard boxes. I guess she was having a garage sale. I figured I’d stop and ask for directions back to the highway. She was kind of creepy looking dressed all in black. But she was the only person around. So I walked over to her. She stood up, smiling through crooked yellowed teeth.“I’m kind of lost,” I said.She nodded. “I can see that.” She had dark, penetrating eyes. She studied me in an eerie way that made my blood freeze.“Can you direct me back to Route 516?”“Certainly. But first why don’t you look at these things I have for sale. They are unique.”“Sure,” I said, figuring to humor the old gal. I began looking around. She had a lot of weird stuff, old crap that I had no interest in. But I figured if I offered to buy something I maybe could get the directions quicker. So I glanced at the stuff on one of the tables. A polished wooden box caught my eye.“I see you like my music box. Actually, I have a bit of a collection.” She picked up the box and wound it up. “It plays Fur Elise by Beethoven.” I listened and liked what I heard. “How much does it cost?”“Whatever you can afford.”I was surprised. I checked the pocket of my jeans. I had some allowance money with me but there wasn’t much. “I’ve only got four dollars.”“Just the right amount,” she assured me. “There is just one thing about the box itself.” She hesitated. “You see, how should I put this, the box has a certain unusual quality. If I bestow ownership upon you, the music box will grant you a wish.”I blinked and stared at her open-mouthed. Clearly the old lady was a few slices short of a loaf.“Sure,” I said, trying to appear agreeable and humor her. “Great.”“You don’t believe me, do you?” She gave me a knowing smile. Then she laughed, except I swear it sounded more like a cackle. The wind lifted her long, steel gray hair giving her an otherworldly look. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. But I think I should warn you. Once you open the box and make a wish out loud, you won’t be able to take it back. You get only one wish, you understand. So think carefully about it. Make certain you wish for something you truly want.”You can read more about the novel here:
https://black-opal-books.myshopify.com/products/witch-wish
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DRB3VVH
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/witch-wish/id1401568260?mt=11
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witch-wish-jacqueline-seewald/1128937209?ean=2940162153894 Comments welcome!
Multiple award-winning author, Jacqueline Seewald, has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and an educational media specialist. Nineteen of her books of fiction have been published to critical praise including books for adults, teens and children. Her short stories, poems, essays, reviews and articles have appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies such as: THE WRITER, L.A. TIMES, READER’S DIGEST, PEDESTAL, SHERLOCK HOLMES MYSTERY MAGAZINE, OVER MY DEAD BODY!, GUMSHOE REVIEW, LIBRARY JOURNAL, PUBLISHERS WEEKLY and THE CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR. Her writer’s blog can be found at: http://jacquelineseewald.blogspot.com
Thanks so much Jacqueline for visiting with us today!
I pray you've enjoyed Jacquie's post as much as I have friends and that you'll check back weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God Bless.
PamT
July 31, 2018
#TuesdayTreasures with Kelly Goshorn!
Good Morning and Welcome to the Final Tuesday Treasures post of July 2018!
If you'e followed me long enough you know I absolutely LOVE to introduce to you new authors - especially those who are fellow Pelican Book Group or Bayou Writers Group authors!
Today is no exception.
Please welcome Kelly Goshorn as she shares something she treasures with us....
I’m thrilled to be on Pam’s blog today talking about something I treasure. Honestly, I thought writing this blog post would be fairly easy. I mean who doesn’t have something they treasure?
I treasure my family, friends, my pets and my health, who doesn’t? But it all seemed so cliché.
I have many knick knacks and adornments around my home that I dearly love, as well. So I decided to choose one of the many heirlooms I’ve inherited from my grandparents that I cherish. But how would I choose just one? And when it came to writing a blog post about one of them, it all seemed superficial. I
mean how much can one say about a pitcher and basin after all?
Then it hit me. What I really treasured about these items wasn’t the object itself, rather what they represented—roots.
According to the dictionary, roots are “the part of a plant that attaches it to the ground or to a support, typically underground, conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant via numerous branches and fibers.” Just as well-established roots anchor the plant to the ground, supplying sustenance and helping it to withstand drought and storms, these items that adorn my home, bring me joy not because of their monetary value but because they keep me connected to my family, my heritage.
That old pitcher and basin came from the Criste farm near Loretto, Pennsylvania, deep in the
Allegheny mountains. Although I’ve never been there, I remember my parents and grandparents talking about my grandfather’s homestead and the generations that lived there before him.
It’s chipped and cracked and the bowl was dropped once and split into three pieces. My husband super glued it back together for me. It holds artificial flowers most of the year, but when my hydrangeas bloom, it’s the perfect size for the large top-heavy flowers. As I arrange the blooms, I wonder how many generations used this set to freshen up after a long day of farm work. Did any of them dip their razor in the basin, trimming up their whiskers before calling on their girl? Would it please them to know that their great, great, great (you get the picture) grand-daughter put it in a place of prominence in her home for visitors to see?
Then there’s that crazy colorful afghan, my grandmother Criste crocheted. Nearly every one of my 26 first cousins have one just as bright. I can still remember, her stockinged feet propped up on the ottoman, diligently crocheting them as gifts for new babies, graduations and weddings, always with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.
The pink candy dish was also hers. Since money was tight you were more likely to find it on the shelf with matchbooks inside for pappy’s pipe than filled with chocolates, but you could drop in around suppertime any night and grandma would always feed you. One saying of hers I’ll never forget, “there’s always room for one more.”
These treasures and others like them, remind me of who I am and where I came from. The stories told around the supper table. The songs I’m sure no other family knows but ours that were sung loud and proud at family reunions. The laughter, love, and acceptance that graced the dinner table. These treasures remind me of the values our family stands for—hard work, honesty, faith and family.
Roots that are sure to anchor me through whatever droughts and storms come my way.
Your turn: What treasures do you possess that remind you of your family’s roots?
Wow...what wonderful things to treasure, Kelly! Thank you so much for sharing with us.
Kelly Goshorn weaves her affinity for history and her passion for God into uplifting stories of love, faith and family set in nineteenth century America. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. Kelly has been enjoying her own happily-ever-after with her husband and best friend, Mike, for 28 years. Together they have raised three children, four cats, two dogs, a turtle, a guinea pig, a gecko, and countless hamsters. Thankfully, not all at the same time. When she is not writing, Kelly enjoys spending time with her young adult children, scrapbooking with friends, board gaming with her husband, and spoiling her Welsh corgi, Levi.
You can connect with Kelly on: Her Website Facebook Twitter Pinterest Instagram and Goodreads
Kelly's debut novel, A Love Restored is available on Amazon US, Amazon UK and Barnes & Noble .... but here's a sneak peek....
She was nothing like the woman he’d envisioned for his bride, but he was everything she’d ever dreamed of—until a promise from his past threatened their future.
With pert opinions and a less-than-perfect figure, Ruth Ann Sutton doesn’t measure up to society’s vision of a perfect lady. When she accepts a position teaching in a Freedman’s School, it threatens the only marriage offer Ruth Ann is likely to receive. She’s forced to choose between life as a lonely spinster or reinventing herself to secure a respectable proposal.
Determined to rise above his meager beginnings, Benjamin Coulter’s reputation as a fast learner and hard worker earn him the opportunity to apprentice with a surveyor for the railroad—a position that will garner the respect of other men. After a chance encounter with Ruth Ann Sutton, Benjamin is smitten with her pretty face, quick wit, and feisty personality.
When others ridicule his choice, will Benjamin listen to his heart or put ambition first?
Sounds like a great book so check it out!
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
If you'e followed me long enough you know I absolutely LOVE to introduce to you new authors - especially those who are fellow Pelican Book Group or Bayou Writers Group authors!
Today is no exception.
Please welcome Kelly Goshorn as she shares something she treasures with us....
I’m thrilled to be on Pam’s blog today talking about something I treasure. Honestly, I thought writing this blog post would be fairly easy. I mean who doesn’t have something they treasure?I treasure my family, friends, my pets and my health, who doesn’t? But it all seemed so cliché.
I have many knick knacks and adornments around my home that I dearly love, as well. So I decided to choose one of the many heirlooms I’ve inherited from my grandparents that I cherish. But how would I choose just one? And when it came to writing a blog post about one of them, it all seemed superficial. I
mean how much can one say about a pitcher and basin after all?Then it hit me. What I really treasured about these items wasn’t the object itself, rather what they represented—roots.
According to the dictionary, roots are “the part of a plant that attaches it to the ground or to a support, typically underground, conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant via numerous branches and fibers.” Just as well-established roots anchor the plant to the ground, supplying sustenance and helping it to withstand drought and storms, these items that adorn my home, bring me joy not because of their monetary value but because they keep me connected to my family, my heritage.
That old pitcher and basin came from the Criste farm near Loretto, Pennsylvania, deep in the
Allegheny mountains. Although I’ve never been there, I remember my parents and grandparents talking about my grandfather’s homestead and the generations that lived there before him.It’s chipped and cracked and the bowl was dropped once and split into three pieces. My husband super glued it back together for me. It holds artificial flowers most of the year, but when my hydrangeas bloom, it’s the perfect size for the large top-heavy flowers. As I arrange the blooms, I wonder how many generations used this set to freshen up after a long day of farm work. Did any of them dip their razor in the basin, trimming up their whiskers before calling on their girl? Would it please them to know that their great, great, great (you get the picture) grand-daughter put it in a place of prominence in her home for visitors to see?
Then there’s that crazy colorful afghan, my grandmother Criste crocheted. Nearly every one of my 26 first cousins have one just as bright. I can still remember, her stockinged feet propped up on the ottoman, diligently crocheting them as gifts for new babies, graduations and weddings, always with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.
The pink candy dish was also hers. Since money was tight you were more likely to find it on the shelf with matchbooks inside for pappy’s pipe than filled with chocolates, but you could drop in around suppertime any night and grandma would always feed you. One saying of hers I’ll never forget, “there’s always room for one more.”
These treasures and others like them, remind me of who I am and where I came from. The stories told around the supper table. The songs I’m sure no other family knows but ours that were sung loud and proud at family reunions. The laughter, love, and acceptance that graced the dinner table. These treasures remind me of the values our family stands for—hard work, honesty, faith and family.
Roots that are sure to anchor me through whatever droughts and storms come my way.
Your turn: What treasures do you possess that remind you of your family’s roots?
Wow...what wonderful things to treasure, Kelly! Thank you so much for sharing with us.
Kelly Goshorn weaves her affinity for history and her passion for God into uplifting stories of love, faith and family set in nineteenth century America. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. Kelly has been enjoying her own happily-ever-after with her husband and best friend, Mike, for 28 years. Together they have raised three children, four cats, two dogs, a turtle, a guinea pig, a gecko, and countless hamsters. Thankfully, not all at the same time. When she is not writing, Kelly enjoys spending time with her young adult children, scrapbooking with friends, board gaming with her husband, and spoiling her Welsh corgi, Levi.You can connect with Kelly on: Her Website Facebook Twitter Pinterest Instagram and Goodreads
Kelly's debut novel, A Love Restored is available on Amazon US, Amazon UK and Barnes & Noble .... but here's a sneak peek....
She was nothing like the woman he’d envisioned for his bride, but he was everything she’d ever dreamed of—until a promise from his past threatened their future.
With pert opinions and a less-than-perfect figure, Ruth Ann Sutton doesn’t measure up to society’s vision of a perfect lady. When she accepts a position teaching in a Freedman’s School, it threatens the only marriage offer Ruth Ann is likely to receive. She’s forced to choose between life as a lonely spinster or reinventing herself to secure a respectable proposal.
Determined to rise above his meager beginnings, Benjamin Coulter’s reputation as a fast learner and hard worker earn him the opportunity to apprentice with a surveyor for the railroad—a position that will garner the respect of other men. After a chance encounter with Ruth Ann Sutton, Benjamin is smitten with her pretty face, quick wit, and feisty personality.
When others ridicule his choice, will Benjamin listen to his heart or put ambition first?
Sounds like a great book so check it out!
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
July 28, 2018
#SaturdaySpotlight is on Sherry Derr-Wille & Mistaken Identity
Good Morning!
Welcome to another episode of Saturday Spotlight where you get a sneak peek into an author and his/her book!
Brought to you today from Class Act Books is author, Sherry Derr-Wille with her book, Mistaken Identity .....
A secluded cottage on a lake in Wisconsin sounds like the perfect spot to get away from everything—or is it?
Katelyn Devereaux needs a vacation. More than a vacation, she needs to put Denver behind her as well as the man who wants her as his wife and the birth family who is insisting on finding her.
Seth Miller knows the reason that he mistook Katelyn for Genean is his knowledge that his best friend’s wife was adopted by strangers at birth. Of course he can’t change the facts that Genean and Katelyn are sisters, especially after he learns that the company she wants to visit in Wisconsin is owned by Genean’s brother, Randy, and her husband, Brad.
Excerpt:
Sunlight shimmered across the lake and it glistened as though it had been scattered with diamonds. As she stood there in awe, taking in the beauty from the cottage, the dock invited her into the picture of beauty. Taking her sketch pad and pencil with her, Katelyn Devereaux walked across the lawn and sandy beach until she reached the pier. Settling into the deck chair, she gazed out across the water.
It was such a beautiful morning. She was so glad she’d taken the advice of her friends and accompanied Suzie Branch to this secluded Wisconsin lake. She certainly needed a vacation and could think of no place more relaxing than this quaint cottage hidden away in a different world.
In the distance a loon called to its mate, waited for a few moments for a reply and called again. This was the kind of peaceful exchange she had not taken the time to listen for in months. She knew nature was all around her back home, but there never seemed to be time to sit and listen for it. In Denver she was nothing more than a machine pumping out sketches for her clients, and on occasion, playing the gracious hostess for Martin.
No, I don’t want to think of the daily grind of running the Devereaux Agency, nor Martin Collier’s marriage proposal. I need this time to figure out just who Katelyn Devereaux really is.
Katelyn turned away from the peaceful scene before her. Why can’t my life be this peaceful?
You know why, Katie. The sound of her father’s voice within her head caused a tear to escape from the corner of her eyes. She’d lost both of her parents at Thanksgiving and never really gotten over their deaths. The only thing that kept her from going completely over the edge was work, work and more work.
I don’t think I can do this, Daddy. I don’t love Martin. I haven’t even given him an answer concerning his proposal. Maybe I’m not cut out for the wife thing. Even if I did marry Martin, I wouldn’t be a wife, not in the conventional way. With him gone so much, life as his wife would be no different than life by myself.
Katelyn’s thoughts came as a shock. Never before had she admitted her true feeling for Martin. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to be a little girl again without all the problems of being a responsible adult. Back home in Denver, her life had become too complicated to allow her to rest. For the past eight months she’d been running the Devereaux Advertising Agency, and then there was Martin Collier’s marriage proposal. The fact she had just learned of the fact she was adopted, only added to the crazy quilt her life had become over the past few months. Perhaps if her parents had told her the truth the shock wouldn’t have been so profound but they hadn’t. She’d learned of her adoption only days after their funeral.
Sounds intriguing don'tcha think?! Mistaken Identity has a heat rating of 1 meaning "sweet" and can be purchased at Class Act Books, Amazon, B&N and Smashwords.
Now let's meet Sherry....
Sherry lives in a mid-sized Southern Wisconsin with her husband of 46 years, Bob, whom she deems a saint for putting up with a crazy writer.
With three children, seven grandchildren, more book signings than she can sometimes handle, she puts out four to five books a year and loves writing in her hot pink office.
Find more information about Sherry at: her Blog: www.derr-wille.blogspot.com
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight!
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
Welcome to another episode of Saturday Spotlight where you get a sneak peek into an author and his/her book!
Brought to you today from Class Act Books is author, Sherry Derr-Wille with her book, Mistaken Identity .....
A secluded cottage on a lake in Wisconsin sounds like the perfect spot to get away from everything—or is it?
Katelyn Devereaux needs a vacation. More than a vacation, she needs to put Denver behind her as well as the man who wants her as his wife and the birth family who is insisting on finding her.
Seth Miller knows the reason that he mistook Katelyn for Genean is his knowledge that his best friend’s wife was adopted by strangers at birth. Of course he can’t change the facts that Genean and Katelyn are sisters, especially after he learns that the company she wants to visit in Wisconsin is owned by Genean’s brother, Randy, and her husband, Brad.
Excerpt:
Sunlight shimmered across the lake and it glistened as though it had been scattered with diamonds. As she stood there in awe, taking in the beauty from the cottage, the dock invited her into the picture of beauty. Taking her sketch pad and pencil with her, Katelyn Devereaux walked across the lawn and sandy beach until she reached the pier. Settling into the deck chair, she gazed out across the water.
It was such a beautiful morning. She was so glad she’d taken the advice of her friends and accompanied Suzie Branch to this secluded Wisconsin lake. She certainly needed a vacation and could think of no place more relaxing than this quaint cottage hidden away in a different world.
In the distance a loon called to its mate, waited for a few moments for a reply and called again. This was the kind of peaceful exchange she had not taken the time to listen for in months. She knew nature was all around her back home, but there never seemed to be time to sit and listen for it. In Denver she was nothing more than a machine pumping out sketches for her clients, and on occasion, playing the gracious hostess for Martin.
No, I don’t want to think of the daily grind of running the Devereaux Agency, nor Martin Collier’s marriage proposal. I need this time to figure out just who Katelyn Devereaux really is.
Katelyn turned away from the peaceful scene before her. Why can’t my life be this peaceful?
You know why, Katie. The sound of her father’s voice within her head caused a tear to escape from the corner of her eyes. She’d lost both of her parents at Thanksgiving and never really gotten over their deaths. The only thing that kept her from going completely over the edge was work, work and more work.
I don’t think I can do this, Daddy. I don’t love Martin. I haven’t even given him an answer concerning his proposal. Maybe I’m not cut out for the wife thing. Even if I did marry Martin, I wouldn’t be a wife, not in the conventional way. With him gone so much, life as his wife would be no different than life by myself.
Katelyn’s thoughts came as a shock. Never before had she admitted her true feeling for Martin. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to be a little girl again without all the problems of being a responsible adult. Back home in Denver, her life had become too complicated to allow her to rest. For the past eight months she’d been running the Devereaux Advertising Agency, and then there was Martin Collier’s marriage proposal. The fact she had just learned of the fact she was adopted, only added to the crazy quilt her life had become over the past few months. Perhaps if her parents had told her the truth the shock wouldn’t have been so profound but they hadn’t. She’d learned of her adoption only days after their funeral.
Sounds intriguing don'tcha think?! Mistaken Identity has a heat rating of 1 meaning "sweet" and can be purchased at Class Act Books, Amazon, B&N and Smashwords.
Now let's meet Sherry....
Sherry lives in a mid-sized Southern Wisconsin with her husband of 46 years, Bob, whom she deems a saint for putting up with a crazy writer. With three children, seven grandchildren, more book signings than she can sometimes handle, she puts out four to five books a year and loves writing in her hot pink office.
Find more information about Sherry at: her Blog: www.derr-wille.blogspot.com
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight!
Until next time take care and God bless. PamT
July 26, 2018
#ThursdayThoughts with Willis Abshire
Good Morning!
Well it's still morning where we're at - barely.
Several years ago I introduced you to Bayou Writers Group member, Willis Abshire when he shared with us his debut novel, The Curse, the Diary and the Cross: Book One: The Curse Begins . Today Willis returns to share some thoughts with us.
Take it away Willis.....
I thoroughly enjoy writing fiction though it appears my adventures delve a great deal into pain and suffering. My trilogy dealt with the choices we make in life and how far reaching those choices can take one. In the two novels I am doing research on dealing with the Holocaust and the Vietnam war I am again confronted with hurt and grief. Being a realist, I find it difficult at times to pursue something positive or uplifting but that is the beauty of this gift given to us. We’ve heard the old expression, “when life deals you lemons, make lemonade.” But sometimes the one holding the lemons can’t see beyond the bitter so we as writers can be the ones to help make the lemonade. Life is a myriad of highs, mundane and downright lows. Birth, living and death. But there is so much of God’s beauty to see in life, the sun making its faithful debut every morning, the lazy moon making its almost transparent unveiling then getting stronger as the sun’s rays fail. The mother dog laying restfully and lovingly as her children suckle—she gave them life and continues to care for them. The daddy teaching his son to play ball or the mother showing her daughter how to bake a pie for her daddy or siblings. We must look for them. So, in the midst of it all this it is my prayer that all writers can be gifted with the ability to add the sugar to make the lemonade sweet.
God bless.
W R Abshire
Willis R. Abshire is a retired Residential and Commercial Painting Contractor from a small rural community in south central Louisiana. A former Pastor he enjoys his writings and spending time with his wife Vickie along with their seven children, fourteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren with one on the way expected in November 2018. Willis's trilogy, The Curse, the Diary and the Cross can be found at Amazon.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll stop by regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless.
PamT
Well it's still morning where we're at - barely.
Several years ago I introduced you to Bayou Writers Group member, Willis Abshire when he shared with us his debut novel, The Curse, the Diary and the Cross: Book One: The Curse Begins . Today Willis returns to share some thoughts with us.
Take it away Willis.....
I thoroughly enjoy writing fiction though it appears my adventures delve a great deal into pain and suffering. My trilogy dealt with the choices we make in life and how far reaching those choices can take one. In the two novels I am doing research on dealing with the Holocaust and the Vietnam war I am again confronted with hurt and grief. Being a realist, I find it difficult at times to pursue something positive or uplifting but that is the beauty of this gift given to us. We’ve heard the old expression, “when life deals you lemons, make lemonade.” But sometimes the one holding the lemons can’t see beyond the bitter so we as writers can be the ones to help make the lemonade. Life is a myriad of highs, mundane and downright lows. Birth, living and death. But there is so much of God’s beauty to see in life, the sun making its faithful debut every morning, the lazy moon making its almost transparent unveiling then getting stronger as the sun’s rays fail. The mother dog laying restfully and lovingly as her children suckle—she gave them life and continues to care for them. The daddy teaching his son to play ball or the mother showing her daughter how to bake a pie for her daddy or siblings. We must look for them. So, in the midst of it all this it is my prayer that all writers can be gifted with the ability to add the sugar to make the lemonade sweet.God bless.
W R Abshire
Willis R. Abshire is a retired Residential and Commercial Painting Contractor from a small rural community in south central Louisiana. A former Pastor he enjoys his writings and spending time with his wife Vickie along with their seven children, fourteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren with one on the way expected in November 2018. Willis's trilogy, The Curse, the Diary and the Cross can be found at Amazon.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll stop by regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless.
PamT
July 24, 2018
#TuesdayTreasures with Carolyn Rae
Good Morning!
Last month I introduced you to Ms. Carolyn Rae when she shared some thoughts with us. Today she shares something she treasures....
Tempus Fugit Latin for time flies – How to make the best use of your valuable time.
Those words were originally written by the poet Virgil who lamented that time flees and it cannot be replaced.
What we generally regret is that time we want to spend doing something we enjoy can be taken up by other less enjoyable things or we have not been able to complete the important things we want to get done.
However, there are ways to improve your use of time by careful management. First, you must set priorities. Mine was to send out a cookbook proposal to an agent I met at a conference who requested it. While I have managed to condense the important elements of the book into the ten-page limit she specified, I admit, I have strayed to check out a few e-mails. However, while my phone has rung twice, I let the answering machine take messages and free me from sales calls.
For good time management as a writer, it is important to schedule work on your projects at a time when you are most alert and creative, and there are less likely to be distractions. If this time for you is morning, you should schedule only the most important duties before tackling your important work. Unless your mother-in-law is coming to visit, you don’t need to clean the kitchen or straighten your house before starting your important project.
If your best time for your creative endeavors is at night, you’ll want to take care of the necessary things beforehand to free up time to work on your project.
Let’s talk about necessary things. Can you shorten the time you spend on them? Do you really need to clean the house that often? Are there some jobs you could do only once in a while? Does that closet or cupboard really need to be rearranged? Can you enlist children to do some things with perhaps a bump in their allowances? Maybe you can persuade your husband to do some chores. After all, he shares the house with you. If you can afford it, maybe you can pay for housecleaning or yard-work and free time to do what you enjoy.
Whichever time is best for your creativity, if you are writing a novel, you need to schedule time to work on it daily. That keeps your mind working on the story, so you will think of things to add when you sit down to write. When I had a full-time job, I scheduled an hour each morning to write, and managed to finish a novel each year. Now that I am published, I spend more time writing so that readers can buy more than one novel of mine each year.
Time IS something we treasure, Carolyn as well as our creative projects and these ideas are sure to be treasured by all who read them! Thanks for sharing.
Carolyn Rae is speaking on How to Write More and Faster on the Fun in the Sun Caribbean Cruise Conference on February 28, 2019, sponsored by the Florida Romance Writers.
Carolyn Rae’s latest book Romancing the Doctor, is a spicy romantic suspense where CDC Doctor Daniel Whistler and his girlfriend, Heather McKinley, hunt an elusive virus spreader to keep people from getting sick and perhaps sterile. They follow the population control fanatic from Atlanta, to New Orleans, to Dallas, and finally find him on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Find our more by visiting Carolyn's website and Facebook page.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God bless.
PamT
Last month I introduced you to Ms. Carolyn Rae when she shared some thoughts with us. Today she shares something she treasures....
Tempus Fugit Latin for time flies – How to make the best use of your valuable time.
Those words were originally written by the poet Virgil who lamented that time flees and it cannot be replaced.
What we generally regret is that time we want to spend doing something we enjoy can be taken up by other less enjoyable things or we have not been able to complete the important things we want to get done.
However, there are ways to improve your use of time by careful management. First, you must set priorities. Mine was to send out a cookbook proposal to an agent I met at a conference who requested it. While I have managed to condense the important elements of the book into the ten-page limit she specified, I admit, I have strayed to check out a few e-mails. However, while my phone has rung twice, I let the answering machine take messages and free me from sales calls.
For good time management as a writer, it is important to schedule work on your projects at a time when you are most alert and creative, and there are less likely to be distractions. If this time for you is morning, you should schedule only the most important duties before tackling your important work. Unless your mother-in-law is coming to visit, you don’t need to clean the kitchen or straighten your house before starting your important project.
If your best time for your creative endeavors is at night, you’ll want to take care of the necessary things beforehand to free up time to work on your project.
Let’s talk about necessary things. Can you shorten the time you spend on them? Do you really need to clean the house that often? Are there some jobs you could do only once in a while? Does that closet or cupboard really need to be rearranged? Can you enlist children to do some things with perhaps a bump in their allowances? Maybe you can persuade your husband to do some chores. After all, he shares the house with you. If you can afford it, maybe you can pay for housecleaning or yard-work and free time to do what you enjoy.
Whichever time is best for your creativity, if you are writing a novel, you need to schedule time to work on it daily. That keeps your mind working on the story, so you will think of things to add when you sit down to write. When I had a full-time job, I scheduled an hour each morning to write, and managed to finish a novel each year. Now that I am published, I spend more time writing so that readers can buy more than one novel of mine each year.
Time IS something we treasure, Carolyn as well as our creative projects and these ideas are sure to be treasured by all who read them! Thanks for sharing.
Carolyn Rae is speaking on How to Write More and Faster on the Fun in the Sun Caribbean Cruise Conference on February 28, 2019, sponsored by the Florida Romance Writers.Carolyn Rae’s latest book Romancing the Doctor, is a spicy romantic suspense where CDC Doctor Daniel Whistler and his girlfriend, Heather McKinley, hunt an elusive virus spreader to keep people from getting sick and perhaps sterile. They follow the population control fanatic from Atlanta, to New Orleans, to Dallas, and finally find him on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Find our more by visiting Carolyn's website and Facebook page.
Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time, take care and God bless.
PamT
July 21, 2018
#SaturdaySpotlight is on Tracy Krauss & Three Strand Cord!
Good Morning Friends,
Over the last couple of month's today's guest has shared treasures and thoughts with us. Today we get a peek into Tracy's latest book, Three Strand Cord so please welcome her back.....
Tempest. Stella. Cherise. Fate brought them together, but can their friendship survive the tangled web of danger and deception that threatens their very lives? When Cherise convinces Tempest to pretend to be her so that she can sneak out of the country to be with her dashing Italian boyfriend, she is inadvertently implicated in an international drug ring. An unexpected complication forces Tempest to prolong the charade and she finds herself attracted to the very man who might be out to cause her harm. Meanwhile, Stella’s high ideals are met with suspicion and disdain at her father’s Texas ranch, until she uncovers a dangerous secret that could put all their lives in jeopardy. At the same time, her own errant emotions take over as she falls in love with two brothers at the same time. Things heat up when Cherise is kidnapped and the three friends must turn to one another – and God - to get out of harm’s way. Three Strand Cord is a story of intrigue and romance told from three different points of view, all coming together to prove that when it comes to true friendship, ‘a three strand cord is not easily broken’.
Excerpt:
A three strand cord is not easily broken (Ecclesiastes 4: 12)
Stately red brick, manicured lawns, and well kept flower beds – the perfect backdrop for Parkview Private Girls' Academy. Nature itself crowned all with a cobalt sky and warmth from the golden sun. All was exactly as it should be for an institution that prided itself on turning out well bred young ladies of means.
"Quick! This way!" A dark haired girl of about twelve gestured to her companions, her voice barely above a whisper. All three girls ducked around the sculpted hedge and squatted, peeping through the foliage.
The blonde one giggled. "This is sooo exciting!"
"What if we get in trouble?" The third girl pushed her glasses up on her nose with her forefinger. Her chestnut hair bobbed as she shook her head. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
"Sh!" The dark haired ringleader held a finger to her lips. "Here comes Casey Brinks."
The three waited, holding a collective breath as their arch nemesis, another twelve-year-old girl, neared the appointed spot under a tree. Suddenly, an explosion of water soaked her as a water balloon hit her dead on. "Ah!" The girl stood frozen while she tried to catch her breath.
"Come on," hissed the leader - and the one with the accurate aim. The threesome crept from the shadows as stealthily as twelve-year-old girls wearing uniforms were able, and made a break for it, letting their excited giggles burst from their lungs unfettered.
"I see you, Stella Crayton!" The enraged mini-diva called after them, hands on hips. "You and your little cronies! The headmistress is going to hear about this!"
Tracy Krauss is a multi-published novelist, playwright, and artist with several award winning and best selling novels, stage plays, devotionals and children’s books in print. Her work strikes a chord with those looking for thought provoking faith based fiction laced with romance, suspense and humor – no sugar added. She holds a B.Ed from the U of S and has lived in many remote and interesting places in Canada’s far north. She and her husband currently reside in beautiful BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. http://tracykrauss.com
“Fiction on the edge – without crossing the line”
Three Strand Cord is available at Amazon.
Thanks for sharing our spotlight, Tracy! Good luck and God's blessings with your new book.
Hope you enjoyed the post, Friends and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God Bless.
PamT
Over the last couple of month's today's guest has shared treasures and thoughts with us. Today we get a peek into Tracy's latest book, Three Strand Cord so please welcome her back.....
Tempest. Stella. Cherise. Fate brought them together, but can their friendship survive the tangled web of danger and deception that threatens their very lives? When Cherise convinces Tempest to pretend to be her so that she can sneak out of the country to be with her dashing Italian boyfriend, she is inadvertently implicated in an international drug ring. An unexpected complication forces Tempest to prolong the charade and she finds herself attracted to the very man who might be out to cause her harm. Meanwhile, Stella’s high ideals are met with suspicion and disdain at her father’s Texas ranch, until she uncovers a dangerous secret that could put all their lives in jeopardy. At the same time, her own errant emotions take over as she falls in love with two brothers at the same time. Things heat up when Cherise is kidnapped and the three friends must turn to one another – and God - to get out of harm’s way. Three Strand Cord is a story of intrigue and romance told from three different points of view, all coming together to prove that when it comes to true friendship, ‘a three strand cord is not easily broken’.Excerpt:
A three strand cord is not easily broken (Ecclesiastes 4: 12)
Stately red brick, manicured lawns, and well kept flower beds – the perfect backdrop for Parkview Private Girls' Academy. Nature itself crowned all with a cobalt sky and warmth from the golden sun. All was exactly as it should be for an institution that prided itself on turning out well bred young ladies of means.
"Quick! This way!" A dark haired girl of about twelve gestured to her companions, her voice barely above a whisper. All three girls ducked around the sculpted hedge and squatted, peeping through the foliage.
The blonde one giggled. "This is sooo exciting!"
"What if we get in trouble?" The third girl pushed her glasses up on her nose with her forefinger. Her chestnut hair bobbed as she shook her head. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
"Sh!" The dark haired ringleader held a finger to her lips. "Here comes Casey Brinks."
The three waited, holding a collective breath as their arch nemesis, another twelve-year-old girl, neared the appointed spot under a tree. Suddenly, an explosion of water soaked her as a water balloon hit her dead on. "Ah!" The girl stood frozen while she tried to catch her breath.
"Come on," hissed the leader - and the one with the accurate aim. The threesome crept from the shadows as stealthily as twelve-year-old girls wearing uniforms were able, and made a break for it, letting their excited giggles burst from their lungs unfettered.
"I see you, Stella Crayton!" The enraged mini-diva called after them, hands on hips. "You and your little cronies! The headmistress is going to hear about this!"
Tracy Krauss is a multi-published novelist, playwright, and artist with several award winning and best selling novels, stage plays, devotionals and children’s books in print. Her work strikes a chord with those looking for thought provoking faith based fiction laced with romance, suspense and humor – no sugar added. She holds a B.Ed from the U of S and has lived in many remote and interesting places in Canada’s far north. She and her husband currently reside in beautiful BC where she continues to pursue all of her creative interests. http://tracykrauss.com
“Fiction on the edge – without crossing the line”
Three Strand Cord is available at Amazon.
Thanks for sharing our spotlight, Tracy! Good luck and God's blessings with your new book.
Hope you enjoyed the post, Friends and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God Bless.
PamT
