Selena Robins's Blog, page 16

Binge reading. Hauntingly beautiful music. Author with multiple personalities. Psychological Thrillers & more.

Please join me in welcoming, Robert Gregory Browne, writer, and creative director of Braun Haus Media, LLC, which released the addictive, psychological thrillers—the LINGER Series. 
Robert chats with me about LINGER—a series I HIGHLY recommend—clowns, how he incorporates his musical talent into the series and much more.

 

“LINGER is an utterly bone-chilling, compulsive read that will grip you by the throat from the very first page. One of the scariest stories I’ve read in a long, long time. You don’t want to miss this captivating new series!” ~Tess Gerritsen, NYT bestselling author of the “Rizzoli & Isles” series. 

 

Selena:  Congratulations on creating the un-put-down-able LINGER Series. My family almost went hungry, and my work and writing was put on hold as I binged read the series.

What was your inspiration for creating the main characters and villains?

ROBERT: Binge reading is exactly what we’re hoping for.

The main characters came out of a visual that mysteriously blossomed in my mind one day of a young blind boy in a hooded sweatshirt standing in the middle of a living room, staring at the ceiling. I knew he was in a crime scene but I had no idea why he was there or what he was up to. Out of that image I built a scene about a female Major Crimes detective who stumbles across this kid, late at night, and discovers he isn’t alone but is accompanied by a mysterious man who refuses to tell her anything about what they’re doing there, but uses a bit of subterfuge to slip away. At this point the cop knows as much as the reader does and from there it was just a matter of figuring out a workable plot line that fit these characters—and a pretty heinous villain they call the Beast. All indications are that I succeeded, but that’s for the reader to judge.

 

 

Selena: As a reader of the series, my verdict is that you more than succeeded.

The series deals with “empaths” and other supernatural elements, that felt like they could happen in real life. Have you ever encountered anything unexplainable?

ROBERT: My nearly empty bank account. Sometimes I look at it and wonder, where the heck did all my money go?

Seriously though, I have never in my life encountered anything supernatural, although I know people who say they have. Some people scoff at such things, but there’s so much we don’t know about our existence and the afterlife—if there is one—that I take the attitude that anything is possible.

 

 

 

 

Selena: Since Edward Fallon, the elusive, mysterious and multi-talented author is multi-dimensional and has five different personalities—in five words, describe him.

ROBERT: He has more than five.

Selena: Touche. :)  Speaking of multi-talents, you’re also a gifted musician and created the hauntingly beautiful soundtrack for the LINGER Series, how is writing music different from conceiving a series like LINGER?

ROBERT: Music is my true passion. I’ve been a musician since I was nine years old, and have been composing since I was twelve. Music comes more out of emotion than writing does. Yes, I use emotion in my novels. I like characters who are troubled and go on a roller coaster ride before the story is done, but music comes FROM emotion and finds its way to my fingertips. To write and orchestrate the music for Linger, I put myself into various scenarios in the books and let it pour out. Some of the pieces are better than others, but it’s all fun. My problem is that I’m never completely satisfied and am always tweaking a composition. I’m always thinking things like, “That violin could sound better” or “I should have had a lighter touch on that piano.” So I tend to tweak and re-upload the pieces. It can get obsessive.

 

Selena: I think artists tend to be a lot harder on themselves than their worst critic. The music for the LINGER Series suits the books, and it is an added bonus for the reader to escape into Kate, Chris and Noah’s world and journey with a soundtrack, matching their emotions.

In each book in the series, the characters find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you found yourself in a situation that was hard to get out of and what did you do?

ROBERT: My way of getting out of a situation is usually to have a meltdown, but fortunately I can’t think of anything off hand that’s happened within memory. When I was editing the Linger series there were times I wondered if I was going to make the July 1st deadline and get all five books released, but I just knuckled down and went to work and finally got it done. I’m fortunate that the multi-personality author known as Edward Fallon was very cooperative and easy to work with.

Selena: Readers who love well-written, psychological thrillers, with a supernatural twist, intense scenes, vivid imagery and suspenseful plots with well-developed characters are pleased you met the July 1st deadline, and look forward to many more books in the series.

QUICK FIRE QUESTIONS:

Are y ou afraid of clowns?

Depends on what his or her intentions are. 

Ever been snowed in?

I’ve barely ever been in snow.

If you could have any accent from anywhere in the world, what would you choose?

Probably British of the Downton Abbey variety. I watch a lot of BBC and ITV shows.

Which Wizard of Oz character do you identify with?

The Cowardly Lion.

Would you keep an old car for sentimental reasons?

I’m not sentimental about cars, although my wife and I do tend to keep our cars for ten years or more before we break down and buy a new one.

 

 

 

ABOUT BRAUN HAUS MEDIA, LLC

Braun Haus Media, LLC is the brainchild of critically acclaimed ITW Thriller Award nominated author and AMPAS Nicholl award winning screenwriter, Robert Gregory Browne. Our mission is to produce “fiction for the rest of us.” Nothing pretentious, just tried and true, skillfully written thrillers, mysteries, paranormal and romance novels, that do exactly what they need to do: entertain the hell out of you.

Our books are available primarily for Kindle, Nook, Kobo and iBooks, but we also make print editions available for those who still prefer paper, which can be found online at your favorite print retailer or in many independent bookstores.

Braun Haus has a number of series to choose from, written by Browne himself and several other authors, with many more to come in the near future.

 

 

 

Filed under: Author Interviews, Writing Life Tagged: Binge Reading, Edward Fallon, Linger Series, Psychological Thrillers, Robert Gregory Browne, Supernatural Fiction, Suspense Fiction, Thrillers

Jewel & her billionaire dream man. A romantic-erotic parody.

Summer re-run of this blog post.

I am re-blogging this parody for the new followers (thanks again, for hooking up with me on my blog…well, not hooking up the way these fictional parody characters are hooking up, but you know what I mean).

I appreciate the follow, stalking, commenting, whatever you choose to do on this blog, know that I am grateful.

I hope you enjoy this parody.

Please Note:

The following is a parody and is not intended to mock any genre or piece of literature. I love the romance genre, the authors and most especially the fabulous readers who motivate me to keep on spinning romantic stories—even parodies. The following short-short-story of Jewel Devereaux and her search for the perfect dream man is intended for entertainment purposes only.

JEWEL AND THE BILLIONAIRE DREAM MAN

by Selena Robins (A Romance Parody)

CHAPTER ONE

Save a horse and ride a cowboy (or at least, make sure he can remember how to ride a chick).

 Jewel Deveraux sat in the Tall Dark and Caffeinated Java Hut in excited anticipation, waiting for her date with BBDM (Bachelor-Billionaire-Dream-Man) to arrive.

BBDM was the man she had connected with after signing on with the Double-U-Double-U–Dream-Man-Dot-Com Dating Site.

Even though the dreamy billionaire’s profile stated he couldn’t have his picture uploaded on the internet, it hadn’t rung any alarm bells with Jewel. She figured it was because billionaires had to be extra careful since there were a lot of delusional, gold digging women out there.

Jewel stared at the entrance and then the door opened.

She held back a squeal as a tall, gorgeous man, built like a lean-muscular-I-bet-he-could-drill-a-gal-all-night physique, wearing a leather cowboy hat sauntered toward her.

Oh, my! Look at that hot swagger. I want to ride him. Now. Saddle me up, and chap my hide, cowboy.

She stood, met him halfway and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Jewel.”

Cowboy took his hat off and shook her hand. “Okay,” he said in a deep, sexy voice. “You’re telling me your name, because?”

“You know,” she said, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. “I’m from Double-U-Double-U–Dream-Man-Dot-Com Dating Site. We’re a match.”

“If you say so,” he said. “All’s I know for sure is that I’m a cowboy. For now.”

So he’s a bit dim. It doesn’t matter, being articulate isn’t a deal breaker. “But you’re also a billionaire, right?”

He shrugged his impossibly wide shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Now, that’s a deal breaker. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have amnesia.” He raked his manly, tanned fingers through his full head of thick, dark hair. “I’m thinking that I’m probably a misunderstood Sheik. Got in an accident and woke up on a ranch somehow and there you go, I’m a cowboy. My rich family could be looking for me. I heard that’s how these heaving bosom stories are written sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’ve read that twist.” Jewel sighed. “But then again you could be the clerk at the Seven-Eleven making minimum wage?”

“That’s possible.” He blinked a few times as if clearing his vision. “But I do keep seeing flashbacks of me wearing a blue vest and greeting people in a big building.”

“Like a Walmart greeter?” she said louder than she’d intended.

He snapped his finger. “Hey, maybe I’m Mr. Walmart? That would make me a rich dude and at twenty-eight years old, that’s some feat, huh?” He opened his wallet and looked inside. “Somehow I doubt that’s the case though.” He put his wallet back in his tight jeans. “Any-hoo, I can’t remember how all this is supposed to go down, but if you want, you could go ahead and ask me out.”

“Okay,” Jewel said. “Get out.” She waved him away, turned and sat back at her table.

What a waste of a drool-worthy walking testosterone.

However, her goal and motivation was to hook up with a dream man that at least knew who he was and more importantly, knew for a fact that he was rich. Besides, the “any-hoo” turned her off.

What kind of alpha-hottie talked like that?

CHAPTER TWO
The Panty Melting Tycoon

Ten minutes later another tall man walked in. Even taller than Cowboy. Better looking too.

Olive skin, black hair and eyes the color of emeralds, sparkling under the sun.

He smiled at her, showing a row of super-straight, white teeth. It was clear Mr. Panty Melter was loaded, he wore a black, James Bond tux and she noticed the glint of his diamond studded Rolex watch.

She smiled at him.

She had to talk herself down and convince herself not to jump on him and wrap her legs around his waist as he approached her table.

Jewel was about to get up and introduce herself when Mr. Panty Melter walked right by her table.

What the hell?

She got up, followed him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me. Are you here to meet the woman of your dreams?”

He turned and nodded. “Yes, I believe she’ll be here any minute now.”

Thank you, Goddess of Orgasms! “Wait no more, I’m here. Just to be sure though, you are a billionaire, right?”

“I’m a Geek tycoon.”

“You mean a Greek Tycoon?”

“No, Geek. I invented the @ symbol for keyboards. Made billions.”

Cha ching!

“Excuse me,” he said. “There’s the woman of  my dreams.”

Panty Melter pointed to a young woman—young as in twenty years old, twenty-three tops. The chick had long mousey brown hair, she could do with a waxing on her thick brows, she wore no make-up and donned a plain beige dress.

“Geneva,” he said, then turned to Jewel. “She’s the governess for my three motherless children, who I will ignore for most of the book, and then let her know I’ve fallen desperately in love with her.” He walked away to the waiting arms of the young—no doubt virginal—governess.

Jewel returned to her table and checked her phone in case her BBDM had texted to say he was running late, but there were no new messages.

She sighed loudly, and wailed, “Where is my dream man? Dammit! I’ve waited four books to get my own story.”

She hoped she was dramatic enough to do justice to this cliffhanger.

CHAPTER THREE
Jewel Meets her Billionaire

“Excuse me, Ms. Deveraux,” the barista said, pointing toward the back of the coffee shop. “There’s a man in the back who asked me to escort you to the private room.”

“Private room?” Jewel asked.

“Yes. He paid thousands of dollars to have a private room built in the back of this coffee shop to meet you. Follow me.”

“Squeeee,” Jewel said, jumping up from the chair. BBDM had a private room built in a coffee shop just to meet with her? Diamonds, tiara’s, lunch in Paris and Milan, here I come. “It’s him. Finally. My very own hot billionare.”

The barista furrowed her over-plucked eyebrows. It didn’t matter, the barista was just a minor character, never to be seen again.

While following the barista to the back, Jewel unbuttoned a few more buttons from her see-through blouse, so that her double-d’s jiggled as she wiggled.

She held her breath as butterflies danced in her lower belly, and steadied her nerves as she envisioned the romantic encounter with her hot billionaire dream man.

Her hero.

The barista opened the door to the newly built room, and Jewel was more than ready to be ravaged and accept five or more orgasms—-depending on how many she would have room for upon instant attraction and first meet.

The barista nudged Jewel inside. “Have fun,” she said, then left and closed the door.

CHAPTER FOUR
WT.F? No, really, W.T.F?

“Whaaaaaaat?” Jewel screeched as she stared at the short, pasty white, balding guy who wore ankle high, baby blue polyester pants and a white T-shirt that fit tight around his keg. Any minute now, she expected the Pillsbury Dough Boy to come out and say, “Meet my dad.”

“Well, hello, there,” he said with a smile that showed off two straight, but brilliantly white teeth. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” He tapped his watch—a Micky Fuckin’ Mouse watch. “This thing is slow a times.” He spread his chubby short arms out wide. “Come to pappa, babe. I’m your dream man.”

Jewel backed away. “I think you’re in the wrong story, dude.”

“No. Pretty sure this is the right story.”

Jewel put her hands on her hips. “Wrong. I’m waiting for Blaine McSwoon. Tall, handsome—with hair—billionaire. That’s the name on the Double-U-Double-U-Dream-Man-Dot-Com Dating Site, and I highly doubt you’re from that site.”

“I’m from that site, honey-pot. That’s where we connected.”

What fresh hell is this?

“Not possible.” Jewel stamped her foot and pouted. Yes it was kind of childish, but that was one of her character traits. “You must have me mixed up with the plain-but-nice-and-sweet secondary character that makes a short appearance, and walks off the pages, holding hands with you, living on love and boxed wine.” She raised her voice. “I want Blaine fuckin’ McSwoon! Where is my McSwoon hero!?”

He ran his stubby-chubby fingers over the one hair in the middle of his head. “I’m Blake. Blaine’s long lost identical twin brother. After we reunited—and let me tell you, the conflicts and emotional roller coaster in that story were off the charts ridiculous—anyway, we decided to shake things up and switch places to add suspense and mystery to this story. So here I am, babe.”

The way he said babe made her thighs twitch

No. No. Stop the twitching. This is not how it’s supposed to be.

She took a step back, struggling for breath. “I. Will. Not. Be turned on or worse, fall in love with someone like you!” She stamped her foot harder this time. “You can’t be my hero! You’re shorter than me, and I’m only five foot four! And for fuckssakes, you have ketchup stains on your T-shirt!”

“Aren’t you the judgmental one, bitch.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“Yeah. You’re also a pain in my ass.”

Oh, my, he sounds all bad-ass and alpha-like.

Tingles zoomed from between her thighs directly to the center of her fun zone. No, she could not get first-meet-do-me-tingles from this pure excuse of a hot dreamy hero.

“Well, fuck you, Blakey McShorty Pants.”

“Listen here, Ms. Potty Mouth.” He took a step closer to her. “How come romance heroines get to be less than perfect? Short, wide hips, generous bootie and a hint of a double chin. Sure it’s cute and guys don’t mind the curves.  Us dudes can overlook all that because we’re supposed to immediately be attracted to your spunk and big, beautiful green eyes that look like jewels—no pun intended on your name—but you chicks expect the hero to be all muscle-bound, abs that require six hours a day in the gym to maintain and a face that’s hot as sin. Tell me why are we supposed to be so damn perfect?”

She shrugged. “How the hell am I supposed to know? The goal given to me is to bewitch a richer than the Sultan hot guy who will then sweep me off my feet, make me quit my mundane job, because he’ll support me forever and ever, buy me a fancy car, fly me on a private jet, and give my orgasms an orgasm every single night.”

He crossed his arms, well, he tried; they didn’t quite make it across his chest. “And I bet you’re one of those chicks who goes down a dark basement, holding a candle, wearing nothing but a nightie, knowing there’s a bad guy hiding in wait, and refuses to have a guy protect her and doesn’t think about calling the cops—”

“Hey, that happened once.” She held up a finger—mind you, it was the middle finger. “Do it once and people label you as the too stupid to live heroine. Fickle bunch those readers are, I tell you.”

“They’re fickle?” he said. “Talk about the curvy pot calling the kettle—”

“Okay, Okay, I get it. But you have to give me something to make this whole dream man gig a hot fantasy for me,” she said. “You are rich, right?”

“I built this damn room just for this one date, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I was impressed by that.” She rubbed her forehead. How the hell can I settle for Lumpy, the lost Dwarf? “Can you at least wear better clothes?”

“If I were one of those cover models, you wouldn’t give a shit about my clothes.” He then adjusted himself—why do men have to do that, it’s not like we go around fixing our hoo-has. “Besides,” he said, pride smeared across his chapped, thin lips. “I have a magic dick. Trust me, you’ll see your life pass before your very eyes when Mr. Big breaks you in. Don’t worry, I’ll make your induction into O-land as painless as I can.”

Oh, shit, the little dude names his dick Mr. Big?

Someone, PLEASE, take over and re-write my story. Stat.

Wait, breaks me in? Induction? “What do you mean, break me in?”

He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Got this from your profile. Says here, you’re a virgin.”

She flushed. She blushed. She bit her lip. Then she blushed again. “Uhm…not quite.”

“So, you’re a slut?”

“Well, kind of,” she said, her face heating up.

“Well, damn. I was looking forward to that virgin cliché. Don’t matter. It’s not a deal breaker,” he said. “Now, you want to know more about my magic or what?”

Magic dick? Billions? Hmmm.

Maybe…oh, what the hell am I thinking? I want a dream man, dammit, not a rich Danny Devito look-alike.

She looked down and stared at his shoes. Those at least were Italian leather and expensive looking–of course the white socks ruined the look.

But he does look like he has big feet.

“Okay,” she said, having no choice, the scene was written this way and she had to go with the prose. “Since I’m stuck with you in this damn story, or at least a few more paragraphs, we might as well make the most of this hook-up. I’d prefer to go back to my place for the first time.”

“Why your place?”

“I have a PP room,” she said.

“You’re a fuckin’ adult, babe. You call a toilet the peepee room?” he said, his blue eye widened, while his brown eye looked sideways.

Seriously? I’m expected to really go through the story with this imbecile? “Not the bathroom, stupid. PP–as in Pink Pleasure room.”

“You calling me stupid?” he said. “It’s supposed to be a red room of pain, not no fuckin’ pink room. Read up, bitch.”

Damn, those tingles ricocheted from between her legs to her now hardened nipples with his alpha-holeness and banter, and especially when he called her bitch.

CHAPTER FIVE
The Blonde Bitch with the Conflict Enters the Story

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood a tall, beautiful woman with long blonde hair, small waist and perky boobs, and dressed as if she’d just come off of a New York runway during fashion week.

Jewel instinctively knew her name was Muffy.

The woman held a chubby baby boy.

The baby had no hair and wore blue polyester pants and when he smiled, he showed two, straight, but brilliantly white teeth.

Blondie squinted and pointed at Blake. “You pig! You’re cheating on me?”

“Am not,” he said. “Muffy, what the fuck?”

Grand slam. I knew her name was Muffy. And here the readers were probably thinking how clueless I was.

“Here,” Muffy said, holding up baby boy, “Meet your secret baby.”

“Secret baby?” Blake said, this time his brown eye widened.

“Yes,” Muffy spewed out of her perfectly lip glossed, heart shaped lips. “I pushed your son’s big head out of my tiny pleasure valley. By the way, you owe me a pushing gift. Something in five carats will do.”

“Damn,” he said. “Must have been when I had amnesia and I thought I was a cowboy.”

“No shit?” Jewel said. “I should buy a lottery ticket. What are the odds I meet two men who got amnesia and thought they were cowboys?”

Blake rolled his blue eye. “You really are too stupid to live. It happens all the time in romancelandia. Duh.”

Magic dick or not, do I really want to have a happy ever after with a guy who says “romancelandia” and “duh?”

“Hey,” Muffy said, pointing to Jewel, in her high pitched, sweet voice, that only a secondary romance character could pull off. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Jewel shrugged. “I don’t recall ever meeting you.” Jewel was pretty sure she hadn’t muff dived this chick.

“Yes, yes,” Muffy yelped as she plunked Secret Baby into Blake’s arms. It was uncanny, Secret Baby had ketchup stains on his white bib. “I remember you now. You bedazzled my cooter and you burned it!”

With Secret Baby wiggling in his arms, Blake nodded. “Oh,” he said with a knowing smile. “So that mark on your velvety lips wasn’t an impression of my family jewels—”

“Hey, watch how you use my name, little man,” Jewel said.

Blake rolled his blue eye, the other eye remained still. “Whatever.”

Jewel turned back to Muffy. “Sorry, I was an apprentice at the time. Do you want me to fix it?”

Blake’s brown eye sparkled and he licked his lips. “Can I watch?”

Suddenly, they all stopped talking, even Secret Baby stopped wiggling around, and they all looked at each other in wonderment as a tall, muscled, chiseled jaw with just a hint of a five-o’clock shadow, golden-haired, perfectly coiffed, hunka-hunka-of-burning-desire walked through the door.

“Hold it,” Muffy said, giving a time out gesture with her hand then turned to the blond Adonis. “Sven, I keep telling you, you’re in my book. You’re supposed to wait before showing up to confront Blake. You’re supposed to be getting filled with angst, wondering if you made a mistake letting me go, and then come and get me and tell me you’re going to support me and Secret Baby and then we can live happily ever after. That is, after I show everyone that Blake is not good enough for me, that he’s evil, but not too evil, since he’s getting his own story and his own happy-ever-after-chick, flakey as she is.”

“Hey, I’m not flakey,” Jewel shouted. “Well, I am, but you gotta give me props for redeeming myself, I did offer to fix your scarred cooter after all. My character arc is coming up and my good qualities will come out.” I hope so anyway.

“What-the-hell-ever,” Muffy said, then turned to Sven.

“I’m sorry, Muffy-boo.” Sven’s shoulders sagged as he bent his head. “Damn, I keep getting it wrong.”

Muffy patted him on the head. “It’s okay. You just showed up early again. And don’t stoop like that; you’re a hero for crying out loud. Strong and alpha-kick-ass and all that. You don’t bow your head, and look defeated. Now just leave and go do your internal turmoil and shit in private, and think about all your angst, but don’t say it out loud. You’re bad ass, remember?”

Sven scratched his blonde head, which of course was empty, seeing as he was all muscle, big dick and no brains, just your standard secondary character. “Sorry, again, Muffy-boo. But before I go, I have to do this first, because…well I don’t know, just seems like the right time.” He picked Muffy up and twirled her around.

“Careful,” Muffy yelled. “My wet charm is still hurting from the bedazzling that she…” pointing to a Jewel…”screwed up.”

“So I burned one vag,” yelled Jewel, now at the end of her rope and also a bit turned on, for no other reason than looking at the rod, poking out of Sven’s pants. “I was on the low end of the Brazilian waxing and bedazzling the choochie’s curve. Give me a freakin’ break.”

Secret Baby started calling for his mamma. “Mamma. Ya.. ya…mamma.”

Hmmm, sounds like Secret Baby has a Swedish accent.

Blake snapped his finger. “Ah ha. Just as I thought. This is not my secret baby. I may have bumped uglies with you, Muffy, but that baby’s accent proves he’s not my kid.”

Muffy’s eyes filled with tears. “I was…was…just trying to add to the conflict. I’m supposed to look to be portrayed as the good chick, and the wronged woman and gain all the sympathy. This is just not working out the way it’s supposed to.” She pointed to Jewel. “I want her to be the villain. I want to be the heroine.”

“Wait just a fuckin’ minute here,” Jewel said. “This story is about me. M.E. me!”

“Babe,” Blake said to Jewel. “I know you said you were a slut, but, do you have to fuckin’ swear so much?”

“I said I was kind of a slut. Actually, I’m in transition.”

“You’re going to be a dude?” he asked.

“No, idiot. I’m reinstating my hyman. Everyone in Hollywood is doing it.” Jewel blew a strand of hair away from her face and waved around the room. “There are way too many secondary characters in here.” She pointed to Muffy, who was still in Sven’s arms. “You. Take Secret Baby and leave and take Sven with you.” Although truth be told, Jewel wouldn’t have minded a spank and wank with the hunka-hunka-of-burning-Swede.

Blake looked impressed. “Wow, you’re some kick-ass, slut transitioning into a virgin chick. You’re hot.”

“Yes. I. Am.” She went to the door and opened it. “Too many characters will confuse me and not advance this damn story to where it’s supposed to go.”

“You do have a point,” Muffy said, and took Secret Baby from Blake and left with Sven.

“Now,” Jewel said to Blake. “Where were we?”

“I got billions.”

“You’re looking mighty handsome now.”

“That’s what I love, a high maintenance, superficial bitch.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Let’s go, woman, we have a happy ever after to bang out.”

“My hero.”

And they lived happily— screwing each other over, big time—ever after.

 

 

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: Erotic parody, erotic romance parody, humor, romance parody

Who else wants to be a superhero’s sidekick for a day?

Please join me in welcoming Tim Tresslar as he shares his superhero sidekick preference, his invention of a prize for a cereal box, and his transition from being an investigative journalist to writing excellent action suspense/thrillers.

I’ve read Tim’s work and I highly recommend his novels. They are well-written, suspenseful stories filled with vivid action scenes, well-developed characters, witty dialog, peppered with intelligent humor, and splashes of romance.

For a limited time (July 2 – 9) you can pick up BLOOD FEUD, his entry in the FIGHT CARD series for ONLY 99 CENTS.

“From the first line to the last line in BLOOD FEUD the reader is grabbed by the collar and yanked into the story, and isn’t let go until the last page. The pacing lends itself to a book that will have you turning the pages in anticipation to find out how the conflict and the story will unfold.” ~Selena

 

 

Chatting with Tim Tresslar

Tim, Welcome to the blog and thank you for taking time away from your heroes who are out there saving the world, fighting crime, chasing monsters to chat with me.

Selena: If you could be a superhero’s sidekick for 24 hours, who would you be? Why? What would you want to do?

TIM: I’d want to be Batman’s sidekick.

But I wouldn’t want to be Robin. God, no. How many times has Robin died? Three? Four? How does Bruce Wayne keep getting custody of all those kids, anyway? Somebody needs to investigate the Gotham City courts. Plus, have you seen all Internet memes where Batman’s slapping him? I’d rather put out a forest fire with a Dixie cup full of water than be Robin.

I’m sorry, what was the question?

Selena: Now you have me looking at Batman in a whole new light. You’re right. Someone needs to investigate to see if those memes are accurate. Superhero world problems. :) Create a bumper sticker that best describes your writing life.

TIM: “Tough Guy – On Paper.” Or “Tough Guy – On Ink Pixels.”

Selena: Start production on those because I have a feeling authors everywhere will want one on their cars. Here’s a chance for another entrepreneurial venture—create a toy to put inside a cereal box. What would you create?

TIM: A razor-sharp ninja star?

Selena: Great idea for the good guys, but you know there’s always a villain ready to pounce on something like this, probably not good for cereal companies.

TIM: No? OK, let me think…How about the Tim Tresslar inaction figure? He comes with a coffee cup, a chair and an iPad, so he can compulsively monitor his Amazon rankings.

Selena: Kellogg’s are you listening? :) How has your experience as a world-famous journalist helped you in shaping your characters and stories?

TIM: A couple of things. I spent untold hours listening to people from all walks of life. I transcribed recorded interviews, focusing on the words. I think that has helped me write dialog.

Also, I’ve been a police reporter and a business reporter. And aspects of those two worlds end up in my books. I don’t mean writing thinly veiled versions of real-world stories. I have no interest in that. But it’s more about details. Things you might see or hear in a police station or a posh executive suite, for instance.

Selena: Your experience as a reporter sounds fascinating. What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done in the name of research?

TIM: As my wife will attest, I am the most boring person alive. If I do something outrageous it’s usually:

a.) unplanned; and

b.) humiliating.

Selena: It’s those embarrassing moments that we are always interested in as readers, and as writers, they can help as well. If you were invited to be a guest on a reality TV show which one would you be on and why? (If you say the Kardashians I may have to go all David Garrett on you).

TIM: Ack! I hate reality TV. If they had one where I could run a comic book shop for a month, though, I’d be all over it.

Selena: That’s a relief, our friendship is intact. :) My husband would be more than willing to support you in your comic book shop venture. Besides superhero fiction, what books have influenced you as a writer?

TIM: Robert B. Parker’s early Spenser books. Andrew Vachss’ books.

I love the Spenser and Burk characters. David Garrett, the lead character in Blood Feud, has touches of both, particularly Spenser.

Garrett’s a tarnished knight — compulsively sarcastic, yet protective. He’s good hearted, but also comfortable with violence. He has no filter. His ideas of right and wrong don’t always align with the law. And he’ll target a predator in a heartbeat.

But I digress. Other books? The late Don Pendleton and his Executioner series was hugely influential. I don’t write like Don, but I like his attitude about what makes an action hero. Based on what I’ve heard, he also was a kind man, willing to encourage and advise other writers.

Fletch by Gregory MacDonald. I love his dialogue-heavy style and his dry humor.

Thousands and thousands of comic books. I think that’s why I love dialog so much.

Selena: I’ve also read Andrew Vachss’ books and enjoyed them. Dialog is my favorite to read and write as well, as I feel it connects the reader to the characters, and witty dialog the way you write is always a pleasure to read when escaping into fiction. What is on the horizon for readers to enjoy in your next projects?

TIM: Glad you asked! I’ve been working with a small group of thriller writers on a series, LINGER. It went on sale July 1.

Thriller Writer Robert Gregory Browne created the concept, wrote the first book and edited the other four. Rob Browne has other cool authors in the pipeline for upcoming LINGER episodes. I’m biased, of course, but I definitely think it’s a great series.

My book, LINGER 3: Reckoning for the Damned, was a departure for me because the action (as in gun battles and fistfights) took a backseat. There’s a lot going on, but it’s a crime thriller with paranormal elements, not an action-adventure book. It gave me a chance to work alongside Rob Browne, who’s extremely talented. But I also got to meet and work with other great writers – Rob Cornell, Will Graham and J.D. Rhodes.

Selena: As you know, I’ve read all five books in the series and thoroughly enjoyed them—they are psychological thrillers at their best. Your entry  raised the emotional stakes for the characters, and the scenes, conflicts, and climax hit all the right notes.

 

TIM: Also, I’m working on another book for Rob Browne and his company, Braun Haus Publishing, but I can’t discuss it just yet. And Garrett’s going to team up with Jet, Russell Blake’s action-spy character, for a short Kindle World novel, slated (hopefully) for a fall release.

And after that? At this point, another Garrett novel, one that will pick up after Blood Feud. I have a general idea of the story. He’s going to get his world rocked and it won’t be pretty.

 

About Tim:
Tim was previously one of the authors behind Don Pendleton’s bestselling Mack Bolan action thrillers from Gold Eagle Books, including entries for the EXECUTIONER, STONY MAN, and MACK BOLAN lines.
His thrillers include JUSTICE RUN, BLOOD VENDETTA and REVOLUTION DEVICE, among several others. He is also the author of BLOOD FEUD, his entry in the Jack Tunney FIGHT CARD series from Fight Card Books.
A former newspaper man, Tim lives in Dayton, Ohio. He has studied intelligence, intelligence analysis, terrorism and lots of other weird stuff.

To connect with Tim (and you’ll want to, because he’s a lot of fun on social media) follow his links:

FACEBOOK

TWITTER: @TimTresslar1

 

 

Filed under: Author Interviews Tagged: Books on Sale, Don Pendleton, Fight Club, Gold Eagle Books, Psychological Thrillers, Robert Gregory Browne, Suspense Fiction, Tim Tresslar

Secrets to a great relationship — Lots of f*****g

I bet you think you know what the F***** is all about, don’t you?

I bet your mind headed south (a place mine goes most days) thinking that’s what the secret to a great relationship is—lots and lots of f*****g.

Well, you’ll just have to read on to find out what this f*****g is all about  

.

Please note: The following secrets which I believe lead to a happy relationship are my opinion only, and are not based on any scientific research, because I’m not scientifically inclined.

 

My Top 25
(In no particular order)

1. Flirt with each other and never stop dating. Replicate the things that got you together in the first place. For example: sitting on the couch and neck up a storm, holding hands at the movies…you know like you did when you first started dating.

2. A bad memory.

3. Fight fair. Duke it out in a reasonable way, and if you can add some humor during the sparring, all the better. Bursting out laughing during a disagreement leads to joint laughter which leads to some good old fashioned make-up lovin’. Mainly, let each other know what you’re pissed off about, get over it, and move on.

4. It is said that couples should not go to bed mad at each other. I say, go ahead and go to bed mad. However, you both have to get naked, sit on the bed, facing each other and hold hands. Nobody is going to go to sleep mad. Guaranteed.

5. Those important three little words: “Let’s go out.“

6. Like each other. Yes, love is important, but so is liking the person you spend most of your time with. This is the thing that got you together in the first place. When you were friends, and enjoyed being together. It will be the strong friendship that will get you through the times when you annoy the begeebers out of each other.

7. Separate closets.

8. Separate bathrooms.

9. Pick your battles. Guys: put the seat down. Gals: If he puts toilet paper roll over the top, or under—it doesn’t matter. The fact that he replaces it is cause for celebration.

10. And now for the “F” word. FUNNING of course. Have fun and lots of it. Tons of ways to bring back the euphoria of all that fun you had when you were dating—splashing each other in puddles, walking in the rain, texting each other naughty messages (just don’t punch in the wrong number, it’s one of those awkward moments, not that happened to me or anything :) ), crank up the music and dance around the house together, have a pillow fight. Whatever you choose to do, have fun doing it.

11. Read a romance book together.

12. Cook together.

13. Patience. Not only with each other, but with yourself.

14. If one of you is a morning person and the other isn’t, then do not have breakfast together.

15. Togetherness is great, I’m a huge advocate, but I also think it’s conducive to one’s sanity to have separate interests, and passions that are just yours. You can then bring something new to the discussion to chat about.

16. Be polite to each other. Thank you. You’re welcome. Please. All those words our mamma’s taught us when we learned how to talk.

17. Always have a supply of sticky notes on hand, and leave each other some notes—in the car, briefcase, pillow, laptop case….use your imagination. Leave, thinking of you notes. Just wanted to say hi. Be naughty. Be nice. Be funny. Anything goes.

18. Sometimes silence really is golden. You don’t have to express every thought to each other.

19. Be each other’s star in your fantasies.

20. Hire someone to paint the house. Unless one of you really enjoys doing it, and wants to do it.

21. Don’t put pressure on each other for a perfect birthday gift, Christmas gift, Valentine’s gift….give each other something special when you want to do it, and not because you feel you have to do it.

22. Talk about what you admire about each other. This is especially helpful if one of you is ticked off at the other. Mentally checking off the things you really like and love. Repeating that helps eliminate the ticked-offness.

23. Compliment each other. You do it for others, then do it for each other, because you need to treat each other even more kindly than you treat others.

24. Take care of YOU first. Think about it. When on an airplane, you’re advised to put on your oxygen mask first in case of emergency, so you are able to take care of your loved ones. Same with life. Take care of YOU first. It will make it a lot easier to take care of the ones you love.

25. Engage in fun, nonsensical pillow talk.

Embrace all the choices life has to offer. Love is a choice. Happiness for yourself and for each other is a choice. Maintaining a sense of humor is a choice. Choosing to overlook the imperfections, and knowing that your choice to be the best you can be for yourself, will automatically spill into your relationship, and will help make life a whole lot easier.

 

There’s no such thing as a perfect person, or relationship, so scrap that whole notion, because it doesn’t exist.

Love. Live. Laugh.
Every love story is beautiful. Make yours, your absolute favorite.

 

 

Filed under: Selena's Musings, Uncategorized Tagged: Happy Marriage, Laugh, Love, Relationships, Sense of humor

An Erotic Prank.

Besides writing, I also offer critiquing and editing services.

I received an email from a new writer, asking if I’d be willing to critique and edit her novella.

To protect this author’s identity, I’ll refer to the author as Felicia Gallant. Anyone who used to tune into Another World will recognize that name–she was my favorite character. Wouldn’t we all love to write in silk PJ’s, a feather boa, and Mr. Rock Hard Abs holding a flower, and a lampshade? :)

 

 

Okay, back to aspiring author Felicia who contacted me.

In her request for editing services, Felicia attached her project.

An erotica novella.

 

 

I emailed Felicia back to let her know that I don’t write erotica nor have I read much of it, and asked if she still wanted to go ahead and hire me?

She wrote back, saying that wasn’t a problem as she still wanted me to give her suggestions on how to strengthen her story, and to point out any technical issues.

I accepted, because I could still critique any genre based on a story’s goal, motivation, conflict, characterization, plot, and mechanics.

In her communication with me, Felicia always addressed me as Mistress Robins, and her emails read like someone who spoke in broken English.

Felicia then emailed to let me know she wanted to send me payment via snail mail. In cash.

I highly recommended she not send cash through the mail, and directed her to Pay-Pal.

She said she didn’t trust sending funds through the Internet.

I then suggested she send a check.

She said she didn’t have a checking account, and could only pay me in cash.

Although I found this odd, I reiterated that sending cash through the mail wasn’t safe, but she insisted, so I gave her my P.O. Box number.

As I started to read her novella, I realized the content was beyond what I had expected.

This was a hard-core erotica tale, more suited for male readers than females, in my opinion.

I have a close friend (for the sake of my friend’s anonymity, I’ll call her Natasha) who reads a lot of erotica stories written by male authors for men.

I emailed Felicia and asked for her permission to allow me to forward her novella to a close friend of mine to get a second opinion.

I waited a week for a response from Felicia, but she never responded. I took her silence to mean it wasn’t okay for me to get a second opinion, so I didn’t share her work, and kept on with my editing and critiquing.

I finished the edit and sent it back to Felicia with my suggestions. I explained it was a challenge for me to fully grasp the plot, and the characters behavior in the story. I also highly recommended she get a second opinion on my suggestions, and sent her a few links that I thought could help her with publishing her novella, and encouraged her to keep writing, and wished her well with her publishing journey.

A week later, I received a package in the mail at home. It was a CD collection wrapped as a gift with a card attached that said, “Thank you for the wonderful critique and encouragement. Here’s a gift to express my gratitude.” Signed Natasha (my friend).

I was confused. Why was my friend thanking me?

I hadn’t critiqued anything for Natasha in a long time.

So I called Natasha to tell her I received her gift and to ask her why she was thanking me in the first place.

Natasha couldn’t stop laughing and then imitated a broken English accent: “Thank you, Mistress Robins.“

After a few seconds, it all clicked together.

The author, Felicia, was really my friend Natasha in disguise.

 

 

My friend explained it was the reason she purposely wrote in broken English, and why she couldn’t use Pay-Pal or send a check because then I’d know it was her.

She wanted me to critique this novella, without me knowing it came from her, and because the novella was a lot more hard-core than she knew I read, she shied away from giving me a heads up about the project.

I think I put a rib out-of-place that day, laughing so much with her on the phone. She did say it was an awesome critique even though she knew it was a challenge for me to understand some of the actions, dialog, and plot points.

Natasha said she cracked up when she read the email to Felicia about asking a “good friend for a second opinion,” because she knew if she would have said yes, I’d be calling her to discuss the project, and she knew she couldn’t keep a straight face or stop herself from laughing.

I still laugh when I think about that day.

I’ve had a lot of pranks pulled on me by friends and family, it’s not hard, as I tend to be gullible (sometimes), but I must say, this was epic.

 

 

 

Filed under: Selena's Musings Tagged: critique, editing, Erotica, friendship, on writing, pranks

Manhattan in Miniature

As part of the editorial team for The Big Thrill magazine, and member of Thriller Writers International, I had the honor of interviewing, Camille Minichino for the magazine’s June edition.

Camille has written more than 20 mystery novels, and she also writes as: Margaret Grace and Jean Flowers.

A retired physicist, she’s married to her webmaster, loves writing, but misses her He-Ne laser.

As Margaret Grace, she writes the Miniature Mysteries, featuring miniaturist GERALDINE PORTER and her 11-year-old granddaughter, Maddie. The 8th in the series, MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE.

 

 

 

Gerry Porter who provides magical experiences for his granddaughter Maddie when a SuperKrafts manager takes them to New York City for a huge crafts fair.

Gerry and his granddaughter get to work on both making miniatures and solving crimes, the detecting duo’s favorite pastimes. All this, plus Rockefeller Center and Radio City, too.

But a crafty murderer wants to make sure they don’t make it safely home again to California.

 

 

 

Chatting with Margaret Grace:

What draws you to the mystery genre?

The darkness. Even the coziest mystery has an element of the darker side of life. I write light, but I read dark. I can’t stay in the light too long.

Your book cover has a snow globe on it, which attracted me right away as I collect snow globes. Tell us the significance of the snow globe with relation to the plot and/or characters.

I love snow globes, also. Maddie, Gerry Porter’s 11-year-old granddaughter, is obsessed with souvenirs of New York City. She’s given this special one by an NYPD detective.

That would be such a special gift for a child who loves the whimsical elements of a snow globe and especially one, portraying a magical city like New York.  What do you think readers will enjoy about the protagonist Gerry Porter?

Gerry is a miniaturist, specializing not in museum-quality pieces, but in “found objects”— turning toothpaste tube caps into lampshades, for example. Every book in the series has tips at the end for making minis.

I’m sure the reader will feel more connected to the characters and story line because of the time you took to provide tips for making mini’s. For those who are not familiar with the world of craft fairs, what is a SuperKraft manager?

SuperKrafts is a fictional chain crafts store; Gerry’s friend Bebe manages the one in her town, and is thus invited to a big NYC show.

What did you most enjoy when creating Maddie, Gerry Porter’s granddaughter?

I gave her the childhood I never had — what fun is that?

That sounds like a lot of fun, living through a child’s eyes and experiences, providing an enriching experience for all readers so they too can escape into a childhood different from their own.

What is the most interesting tidbit you can share, regarding research for your books?

Recently, a male reader alerted me to the fact that I never have men miniaturists in the books. I’m fixing that in Book 9 (fall 2016), MATRIMONY IN MINIATURE, in which a guy joins Gerry’s crafts group.

What is the hardest part when writing a mystery? Planting red herrings? Ensuring the reader doesn’t guess who the villain is?

Yes, all of that. To make things easier, I belong to several critique groups and have many beta readers — I count on them to keep me honest. In a cozy especially, convincing the reader that, yes, the lady who hems your skirts or runs the cupcake shop, will always rush to solve a murder.

That’s what I think make cozy mysteries so unique and fun to read. Placing ordinary people in extraordinary situations and watching them pull from their unique strengths and capabilities, and sleuthing to solve a crime.

What do you hope readers will come away with after reading MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE?

A greater appreciation of New York, my favorite city, a good time with people who are smart and interesting, and the satisfaction of justice served.

New York is one of my favorite places to visit as well, and it sounds like your offering in MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE will sweep readers into a world filled with an imaginative plot, interesting characters and twists and turns for a mystery, I’m sure readers will enjoy trying to solve.  

Thank you for taking time for sharing your thoughts on writing MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE and sharing a few snippets from your novel.

Meet Gerry & Maddie from MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE in the following snippets:

I needed a new refrigerator; there was no doubt about that. But I didn’t expect to have so many choices. I stood in the appliance section of the store. Should I buy the tall white two-door or a similar style in black with an ice maker?

I was also attracted to a French window arrangement in a wood-like shade, and the bottom-drawer-freezer stainless steel model next to it.

I had already ruled out the old-fashioned one-door in avocado green . . . In the end, I decided to buy them all, including a boxy yellow throwback with its motor on top that had fallen behind the others.

You could never have enough appliances to fill all your dollhouses or miniature room boxes.

***

Our cab came to a jerky halt in front of The Lex and we tumbled out.

“What’s the weather going to be like tomorrow?” Maddie asked the doorman who helped us over the curb. “Are we ever going to get snow?”

“Maybe tonight,” he said.

“You always say that,” Maddie said.

I thought I saw a red blush creep up the doorman’s face.

Or it might have been the cold.

***

I still felt a little jet-lagged and tired enough to grab a few minutes of sleep. If a cab could be a phone booth, why not a bed?

We were traveling slowly enough in midtown rush hour traffic. I scrunched down a bit, got comfortable, head back, legs stretched out as far as possible, volume turned to zero on the video display in front of me, then . . .Crunch!

Praise for MANHATTAN IN MINIATURE

“Grace weaves the two plot lines seamlessly and gives the reader a loving tour of New York City highlights along the way. You don’t have to love miniatures or Manhattan to enjoy this book — just love a good mystery.” Amazon Reviewer.

“Gerry is a person I would be happy to spend time with touring New York City which she knows so well. A great series, with tips for miniaturizing.” Goodreads Reviewer.

 

Filed under: Author Interviews Tagged: Camille Minichino, Cozy Mysteries, Jean Flowers, Manhattan in Miniature, Margaret Grace, Miniature Furniture, Mystery, Snow Globes, tips for miniaturizing

Boy, was my face green (and not with envy)

PLEASE NOTE: Re-posting this post for the new followers and those who have not read this post before and also the fact that I am buried under edits and revisions.

I hope you enjoy it. :)

Beauty products can be costly and filled with harsh chemicals with ingredients you can’t even pronounce let alone truly comprehend if they are even good for our skin. In some of these expensive products, some of the ingredients can be found in your own home.

I’m going to share some products you can make in your own kitchen, but first wanted to share an experience I had which left my face green with embarrassment.

It was the middle of winter, with temperatures that would send a polar bear shopping for a fur coat. Everyone was complaining about the weather. Except for me. I craved ice and frigid temperatures.

A week earlier, I had endured an injection which I needed for a small procedure…(I know, what you’re thinking “endured?” it’s just a freakin’ needle, trust me, when it comes to needles, I’m all about the drama)…anyway, the side effect which should be called a main effect was hot flashes that made me feel as if I had an internal furnace stuck at 150 degrees. I was also instructed not to have any caffeine. No problem, I don’t drink coffee, and in my mind that’s the biggest caffeine culprit. Oh yes, I know, chocolate supposedly has caffeine, but in my opinion there couldn’t be that much caffeine in a tiny piece, right?

One weekend, my husband’s relatives were visiting from England. I’ve never met these relatives, and they arrived rather late and I was out shopping, so I didn’t have a chance to greet them. When I got home, my husband said they were jet-lagged and wanted a hot shower and sleep. They went to bed early.

It was 6:00 a.m. the next morning, my favorite time of the morning when the house is quiet and I have some “me” time to meditate, organize my day, check emails, and give myself a facial, which is what I decided to do that particular morning.

I mixed up my homemade avacado facial mask (this recipe–for the mask, not the disaster–is listed at the end of the blog, plus other recipes for smooth, healthy skin).

I smeared the mask all over my face and neck and sat in my den and noticed a huge Cadbury bar on my desk (I’m talking family size—if the family had ten members). There was a note on it, saying it was a gift from my husband’s relatives. I unwrapped a small corner of the bar, intending to just have a small bite.

After relishing the sweetness of this wonderful, unexpected gift, I felt a hot tingle.

It started on the tip of my nose traveled around my jaw, and within a few seconds my whole face felt like it was on fire—the needle’s main effect had kicked in.

I was in the midst of a severe hot flash—so freakin’ hot, I’m sure I could have sizzled bacon on the top of my head.

I ran to the the back patio door, opened it and stuck my head outside, breathing in the freezing cold air.

Well, I had forgotten to turn the house alarm off.

WOO WOO WOO WOO WOO – damn thing was loud enough to wake Rip Van Winkle up and have him jump out of a story book.

My neighbor had been walking her dog.

Who goes out that early to walk their dog in the winter, anyway? She ran over and rang our doorbell.

Who would ring a doorbell to a house with a burglar alarm blaring?

I couldn’t rush to the alarm’s keypad fast enough to shut the alarm.

Our dog barked as if he were competing against the alarm as to what could make the loudest noise.

Everyone—including the in-laws I haven’t met as of yet—dashed downstairs, talking over each other to find out what was happening.

The neighbor was now banging on our door and wouldn’t stop until my husband answered it and let her in.

And me, standing in the midst of all this, with the now melting green mask dripping down my face, holding a gargantuan bar of chocolate with a few missing pieces.

The phone rang. It was the alarm company.

To this day, I don’t know why I decided to answer the phone instead of closing my eyes and pretending I was sleep walking, but I answered the phone.

Lady from the alarm company wanted to know my password to verify I was the homeowner.

I couldn’t remember the password.

I told her I was Mrs. Robins and I had accidentally tripped the alarm.

Alarm company lady, “I’m sending the police.”

“I told you,” I said. “I forgot the password, no need to call anybody.”

Everyone stood around me, staring at my green face, my massive chocolate bar and giving me strange looks.

“I’m telling you, I’m one of the homeowners. I’m fine. Thank you for calling.”

The alarm company lady wouldn’t let it got. “Please provide me with the password or I will call the police.”

“You want a password,” I said (actually I screamed, in the key of C). “I’ll give you a password. I had a hot flash, because of some stupid needle. I needed fresh air, I snuck chocolate. Send the cops, I don’t care anymore. I’m busted anyway. Do you know what it’s like to have a side effect that makes you want to perform a burlesque act in the middle of winter outside? Well, do you?”

My husband gently took the phone out of my hand, gave the alarm company the password, told the neighbor everything’s fine and got rid of her. He told our guests to go back upstairs, we’ll talk later.

He opened a few windows, gave me a hug and told me to go take a shower and not worry about anything.

His relatives were wonderful and we all enjoyed a good laugh and decided it wasn’t something we needed to discuss any further. Well, until I just now shared it with all of you.

P.S. I did call the alarm company to apologize for my shouting and I have since memorized the password. I also will never give myself a mask, nor will I wear my husband’s T-shirt and neon pink fluffy slippers when we have house guests.

Now, let’s save money and use it for important things like books and shoes and not overpriced facial products.

Cleanser, Toner, Scrubs, Masks & Lotions you can make at home.

Yogurt Cleanser which will also exfoliate:

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. plain Greek Yogurt (or you can also use Plain Yogurt)

Mix together, apply all over your face and leave it on for about 3 minutes, then gently massage it into your skin. Rinse off first with warm water, and then splash cold water.

Pat dry.

Toner:

Rose water.

You can buy this at any health food store.

Dab a cotton ball with a small amount and dot it around your face after you cleanse.

Oatmeal & Mint Scrub:

1 cup oatmeal

½ cup dried mint leaves

Put them in a blender until they are all ground up. Put this in a jar as you will only use this once per week, or once every two weeks.

Take a palm full of this mixture, add a bit of water and gently scrub your face in smooth circular motions with the pads of your fingers.

Rinse well, first with warm water, then cold water. Pat dry.

The INFAMOUS A vocado Mask:

2 TBSP. mashed avocado

½ tsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Note: (If you have oily skin, skip the olive oil and ADD HONEY instead, just add enough honey to make it tacky so it will stay on your face)

Mix well and put in fridge for about 15 minutes, to get the mixture to chill.

Massage onto your skin and leave on for 10 – 15 minutes, while you lay back and relax. Just don’t get caught with green all over your face, see above incident. J

Remove with wet, warm soft cloth.

Rinse face with warm water, then splash cold water. Pat dry.

Peaches and Cream Mask:  

1 ripe peach

1 TBSP organic honey

1 tsp oatmeal

Peel and cook the peach until it’s soft enough that you can mash it.

Add the honey and the oatmeal, so that it makes a paste. If you need to add a bit more oatmeal, you can.

Apply to your face, sit back and relax for 10 minutes.

Rinse well. Then splash warm water, then lots of cool water. Pat dry.

Cucumber Anti-Wrinkle Cream

½ seedless cumber (leave skin on)

1 egg white

2 TBSP Mayonnaise

½ cup olive oil

Put this all in a blender.

Apply some all over your face in the morning and evening. You don’t need to leave it on for long, just a few minutes. Then wipe off, gently with cotton balls. Rinse with warm then cold.

Vitamin E

Buy a bottle of Vitamin E capsules, snip off the capsule, squeeze the vitamin E out and dab around your eyes, forehead, anywhere that you need that extra boost of Vitamin. A lot cheaper than buying those serums that have Vitamin E, because they do the same thing.

Green Tea

Brew a large pot of green tea (buy a good quality Green Tea from a Health Food Store). After stewing the tea in hot water, cool it down and put it in a glass jar and keep it in your fridge. Dab it on your skin with a cotton ball, makes for a great moisturizer. You can rinse your face with this tea or spritz your face during the day.

Green tea, as with all the ingredients listed above are natural soothing, anti-aging and healthy ingredients both for your insides and outside.

Happy glowing everyone.

Please drop me a line and let me know if you tried these and also if you have any homemade tips, please share with us all.

Filed under: Selena's Musings, Selena's Recipes Tagged: avocado, cleansers, embarrassing moments, facial masks, green tea, homemade beauty products, humor, moisturizer, oatmeal, olive oil, toners

Will Graham Unplugged

Please join me in welcoming Will Graham to my blog. Will writes suspense/thrillers, creating fictional worlds that feel real with well-developed characters, witty dialog, peppered with intelligent humor, with a lot of vivid action, and splashes of romance.

Besides authoring great escapism for readers, Will is involved with PROTECT (a pro-child, anti-crime organization) by donating a portion of the proceeds of his books to this organization.

 

Details with links to purchase his books and help PROTECT listed below.

 

Selena: If it were possible to sit in a time machine and go back to your 18-year-old self, what piece of advice would you give yourself?

WILL: The single biggest piece of advice I would give my 18-year-old self is “Slow Down…. Adulthood is NOT all it is cracked up to be.” I think a lot of us feel that way; we didn’t really appreciate what our youth had to offer because we were in such a hurry to become Adults.

Selena:  Yes, I can related. My parents always used to say to us, “never wish away time, it’s the one thing you can never do-over and get back.” I try to remember that.

You just won a yacht. What would you name it? Why?

WILL: I would name it THE FINALLY! which is pretty self-explanatory

Selena:  Do you have a tattoo? If so, what is the graphic? If not, if you were to get a tattoo, what would the graphic be?

WILL: No, I don’t, and probably never will. I have seen some absolutely beautiful tattoos work done on others, but it just is not for me.

Selena:  I feel the same way, not for me, and there’s that little thing called a needle…unnecessary pain is not my thing.

Besides your loved ones, who would you want to be stuck with on a deserted island?

WILL: Anyone who knows me know this automatic answer: Jane Seymour. Again, I don’t believe a lot of explanation is needed. I first saw her in LIVE AND LET DIE when I was 17-years-old and that — as they say — was the end of that! I would also dearly love to have a formal dinner with our Founding Fathers and ask if things worked out the way they planned.

Selena: Would be interesting to hear what the Founding Fathers have to say about pop culture.

On the other hand, who would you rather NOT be stuck with on that island?

WILL: I’m going to behave myself on this one, but there indeed a list. A short one, to be sure, but a List nonetheless.

Selena: Oh, no need to behave yourself on this blog, but probably a good idea not to list those. I think we all have a list of those people…boy who used to punch me in the arm in Grade 7 is on my list, but I won’t mention his name.

What was the moment that inspired you to add suspense/thriller author to your resume?

 WILL: I have wanted to be a writer since I was seven-years-old and taught myself to type on my mother’s college typewriter; one of those huge “Royal” manual monsters. As far as genre goes, Suspense/Thriller is what I have always loved to read and most advice for writers begins with “Write what you love,”, so…..

Selena: What is the most interesting tidbit you can share, regarding research for your books?  

WILL: For the SPIDER’S stories featuring Nicholas White, it’s professional experience of my own.

Other works are adaptations of screenplays that did not work out, or just some nice short stories that really cannot find a home anymore. As an example, the short “One Minute After Midnight” was written for a Cold War anthology, but didn’t make the final cut.

Not so long ago, it would have been filed away and forgotten. That is the beauty of today’s publishing industry: what once would have been relegated to the filing cabinet can now be made available for everyone to read and enjoy!

Thank you, Will, I personally look forward to reading more of your work.

About Will Graham:

“Will Graham” is the pseudonym of a professional investigator specializing in computer forensics and electronic evidence exclusively.

His musical tastes pretty much stopped with The Rat Pack, and he still reads Leslie Charteris, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Dame Agatha Christie, and Ellery Queen.

Keep current with events please check out Will’s Website. 

 

To Buy Links to help PROTECT
TANGO
DANCE “Director’s Cut” 
SPIDER’S KISS

 

 

 

 

 

Filed under: Author Interviews Tagged: Author Interview, Protect, Suspense Fiction, Thriller Fiction, Will Graham

Popping the Book Signing Cherry

PLEASE NOTE: Re-posting this blog for the new followers and those who have not read this post before and also the fact that I am buried under edits and revisions.

I hope you enjoy it. :)

The Year I Popped my Book Signing Cherry

This was it—the print run of my first novel was hot off the press and it was time for some old-fashioned promotion. I headed for a vacation and a book signing in the state that gave us Mickey Mouse, the Golden Girls and hopefully the breaking story on the ten o’clock news of a Canadian author needing assistance for crowd control for the hundreds of romance readers, clamoring to get their own autographed copy of my book.

The latter did actually happen—in my dreams.

During the flight I had envisioned line-ups of avid and excited readers, chants and a harried book store manager in a panic, because we’d run out of books—all 1,000 of them. I had rehearsed my smile, my version of the royal wave and witty answers to the myriad of questions the readers were dying to ask.

Turns out the book store was a literary boutique located near a university and filled with sleek, stylish furniture, complete with a wine bar.

And NO romance section.

After a few anxiety induced minutes, I managed to crush the urge to run away and instead decided to make the most of the situation. I put on my game-face and mentally prepared to pave the way to lure literazzi type readers, Deepak Chopra and Anthony Robbins fans into the romance genre.

I know what you’re thinking—that I was in total denial to the realities of this competitive business. Denial gets a really bad rap by self-help gurus, but personally, I’ve found it helpful at times.

This was definitely one of those times.

I sat at a table near the wine bar and managed to sell four books to one customer—said customer happened to be an acquaintance of mine, but she did buy three extra copies.

Jacked up on a few ounces of confidence (and red wine) I submerged myself into the power of positive thinking and eyed my next challenge—a couple of women perusing the classic literature section, while sipping sinfully expensive bottled water.

I smiled.

They smiled back.

They approached my table. Both of them had a glimmer of excitement, sparkling in their eyes.

Ah ha. I knew it. I know that look. They had all the makings and glow of die-hard romance readers.

That look of high anticipation, salivating for something romantic to read. The feeling they had discovered a new romance author and couldn’t wait to talk to her, and flip through her book, perhaps read the first chapter and then buy a book for themselves and (fantasy still in full force) a few copies for friends and family.

Oh, yes, all the markings of readers, hankering for something to sink their teeth in…

Chocolate.

They had been ogling the gigantic bowl of Godiva sitting on my table.

I pushed the bowl toward them and told them to knock themselves out.

Since then I have armed myself with a more realistic approach to book signings. (I still have that crowd control fantasy going on from time to time, but hey, a gal has to dream, right?)

Fortunately, being better prepared and having learned through that first signing, I’ve had tremendous success in book stores—having done my research and homework, I made sure the stores had a romance section and I still do bring goodies to hand out.

During my later book signing adventures, I’ve met many men who’ve purchased an autographed book, claiming it was for their wives, moms, sisters, aunts—a lot of women out there named Tom, Dick and Harry.

I’ve met the dynamic duo. (not Batman and Robin) Buffy and Muffy who announced with pride that they could write a romance novel in a weekend…giggle giggle, as they sipped their double latte concoctions, flipping through tabloid magazines. I gave them my best smile and wished them luck with their writing and even volunteered to edit it after their weekend of just churning one out, because as we all know it’s just that easy. Of course I also told them, they probably wouldn’t need an editor, I mean writing a book in a weekend must be an amazing talent, and I’m thinking it would be ready for publication. Or so they made it seem when they giggled-talked about it.

One of my favorite encounters was a Masters graduate, (I know this, because that was the first thing out of her mouth after she asked me where the ladies room was located) who perused the cover of my book and said that she would wait until the movie came out, as reading wasn’t  really “her thing.”

At one signing, I overhead a conversation between two women who were browsing the store for a birthday gift. Multi-tattooed woman suggested to her equally tattooed friend: “Why don’t you get your old man a book?”

Response: “Nah, he’s already got a book.”

I also attended Word on The Street one year, an outside event in Toronto, where hundreds of authors line up and sign books. My table was next to another author who complained from the time we arrived 7:00 a.m. until the time we closed shop 6:00 p.m. For every negative comment, I came back with three positive ones and made light of things so she’d hopefully relax and have fun.

No smile. More complaining, grumbling and negativity spewing.

Another author on the other side had brought her dog. She had written a book on dogs, so bringing her beautiful Golden Retriever was a clever prop, in my opinion. The dog was well behaved, but at times, he got restless and would wonder to our area.

I would pet him.

Cranky author next to me said: “Don’t encourage that flea bag mutt, send him back over there.”

I ignored.

Dog lay down near our booth.

Cranky author said, and I quote: “If I had a pair of steel toed boots, I’d kick that bitch back to its owner.”

I smiled at her and said, “If I had a pair of steel toed boots, the puppy wouldn’t be the bitch I’d love to kick back to where she came from.”

Went right over her head of course. It takes all kinds to make this world a diverse and interesting place, so they say. (During yoga I often wonder who “they” are that say these things, but I digress…)

All in all, ninety percent of the people I’ve met at book signings are courteous, pleasant, fun to talk to and have a passion for not only reading, but for the romance genre. The above mentioned characters stand out, because they are the exception.

My favorite encounter at a book signing was when I asked a woman walking by my table, “Do you like romantic comedy?”

Flushed and weighed down with a briefcase and diaper bag she said, “I don’t have time to laugh!”

While chewing the inside of my cheek like a chipmunk on steroids to keep from laughing at her serious expression, I thought to myself, that this stressed out woman could be immortalized in a poster with the caption:

“I am woman. I am invincible. I am pooped!”

 

What do you think? Could you relate? I know there are days when I certainly could be the poster child for that caption.

 

Filed under: Selena's Musings Tagged: Book Signing, humor, Life

Keep your eyes open when you kiss a boy.

In Italian culture, the month of May is dedicated to mom’s everywhere. Let’s go with that. Why one day? Let’s make May the Mother Month.

 

Remembering two beautiful women I was privileged to call Mother.
My Mom and Mom-in-Law

In the short time that my mom held my hand, her teachings have always stayed with me, even when it was tough to smile in the face of some of life’s challenges, something she taught me—a sense of humor is the best gift you give to yourself and others.

Main thing my mom taught me was to treat others even better than I expect to be treated.

She taught me by example to be kind, sensitive, charitable, classy, embrace the arts, and to always have tomato sauce in the freezer and plenty of pasta on hand in case unexpected visitors show up at dinner time.

You know the saying, “You’ve now turned into your mother.” I take that as a compliment and hope that I can be half the woman, mother, nanna, aunt, sister, girlfriend my mom was.

 

My mom also advised me not to close my eyes when kissing a boy. I remember her saying that realistically she hoped it would be when I was 18 or so, as opposed to my dad hoping it would happen when I was thirty.

When the time came for that first kiss, I took this piece of advice—literally, as in: Did. Not. Close. My. Eyes.

When I told her about it, she did what every mom would have done in this situation—stifle a laugh and then explain exactly what she meant.

Her advice was metaphorical for—-don’t shut everything out, and stay in control to not let things get out of hand.

I’m sure you all know what she really meant. I was sheltered and naive…that’s my excuse story.

 

My mom-in-law had a great sense of humor and was also able to laugh at herself for her missteps. One memory my husband and I both have which still makes us laugh when we think about it, is when we were fortunate enough to travel with his parents to Bahama’s.

We were on our way to an excursion to swim with the dolphins. On the boat, in the middle of the ocean, we spotted four dolphins, jumping out of the water and diving back in, all in sync. It was quite beautiful to watch.

My mom-in-law turned to us and other passengers and asked, “I wonder how they trained the dolphins to do that? I mean, look, they are putting on a show for us and there’s no trainer around.” 

There are so many wonderful memories stored in my mind, and in my personal journal of both mom’s. I hope to someday get them all sorted out into a book to share with family.

 

To all the women who have touched a child’s life;
have a wonderful MOTHER MONTH and wishing you many blessings all year round.

 

Filed under: Uncategorized