Grace A. Johnson's Blog: Of Blades & Thorns, page 51
October 22, 2020
Prisoner at Heart Anniversary Week!
Guys, it's here! It's really here! The ONE YEAR anniversary of Prisoner at Heart is almost here, and I'm kicking it off with a week-long celebration!
Starting TODAY, I am sharing some of my favorite behind-the-scenes of PAH--from my Pinterest board, to the story soundtrack, to even some never-before-read DELETED SCENES!
It all starts right now on my blog, Gabbing with Grace, with sharable quote graphics from Prisoner at Heart! Every day from now until the anniversary day, October 29th, I'll be sharing something new with y'all!
AND on this coming Sunday, October 25th, Prisoner at Heart goes ON SALE on Amazon for $3.99! (Kindle version only, of course. The print version couldn't be marked down but, like, twenty cent, so...)
Tell your friends, your family, and share on social media, because the party is starting, y'all! Join me every day from now until October 29th on my blog as we celebrate one whole year of Prisoner at Heart!
Starting TODAY, I am sharing some of my favorite behind-the-scenes of PAH--from my Pinterest board, to the story soundtrack, to even some never-before-read DELETED SCENES!
It all starts right now on my blog, Gabbing with Grace, with sharable quote graphics from Prisoner at Heart! Every day from now until the anniversary day, October 29th, I'll be sharing something new with y'all!
AND on this coming Sunday, October 25th, Prisoner at Heart goes ON SALE on Amazon for $3.99! (Kindle version only, of course. The print version couldn't be marked down but, like, twenty cent, so...)
Tell your friends, your family, and share on social media, because the party is starting, y'all! Join me every day from now until October 29th on my blog as we celebrate one whole year of Prisoner at Heart!
October 6, 2020
Name of the Week: Shadow Road (Reviews, Interviews, and More)
Wait! What? Shadow Road? But that's not a name, is it?
Of course it isn't! Because today, I'm dispensing of all "name origins" and "character this" and bringing to you a book review and a interview with writer A. E. Pennymaker--the author of Shadow Road.
Before we dive into all of the treats that I have for y'all, let's take a peek at this wonderful indie fantasy and its equally wonderful author, Anna.
Brenorra Warring's father is going crazy. That's the only conclusion Bren can make when a fire destroys everything they own, and his only answer is to take a job in the uncivilized Coalition Colonial Region on the other side of the ocean.
Then disaster strikes again. Her father is lost at sea, and Bren is left with nothing but the clothes on her back, the things in her father's satchel, and the discovery that he has been lying about his reasons for leaving. When more of her father's secrets are revealed, it becomes clear that someone powerful is killing innocent people to keep those secrets hidden - and they are hunting for Bren.
As the only person alive who can figure out what her father knew, Bren winds up forming an alliance with two very different men. The first has been tasked with keeping her safe, and will do anything it takes to bring down the organization stalking her, no matter the cost. The other is a brilliant but icy Naval hero who has been branded a wanted man by the enemy.
With time running out and danger rising on every side, Bren must solve the trail of coded messages her father left for her and find the last piece of the puzzle before it falls into the wrong hands. The only rule of this game: do not get caught.
#1--Doesn't that sound SO intriguing? #2--Isn't that such a cool cover? #3--Doesn't that sound nothing like the sort of book that I, Little Miss Historical Romance For Life, would read?
Yes, yes, and yes.
But needless to say, I LOVED Shadow Road. Sure, it's not a definable anything--fantasy, but neither high nor dark, and somewhere in the middle of all those "punks." And, yes, it's also indie, which is generally avoided by readers simply because traditionally published books are (1) easier to find and (2) better in quality.
Not so for Shadow Road. This book was deposited right into my lap around the end of August, so I took the chance, bought it, and read it over last month. And, boy, am I glad I did! Usually, I'll share my review in my blog post with y'all, but since it's so long and since we've got a lot more to dive into, I'll redirect you to my review on Goodreads.
Now, let's dive in!
I was extremely blessed this weekend to get a chance to interview the lovely Mrs. Pennymaker (please note: that's not really her name, but if it were, it's on Mr. Pennymaker, so...) and I'd like to share with y'all her writing journey, sage advice, and a little bit about her debut novel, Shadow Road.
Want to read the interview and learn more about A. E. Pennymaker? Read it here!
Of course it isn't! Because today, I'm dispensing of all "name origins" and "character this" and bringing to you a book review and a interview with writer A. E. Pennymaker--the author of Shadow Road.
Before we dive into all of the treats that I have for y'all, let's take a peek at this wonderful indie fantasy and its equally wonderful author, Anna.
Brenorra Warring's father is going crazy. That's the only conclusion Bren can make when a fire destroys everything they own, and his only answer is to take a job in the uncivilized Coalition Colonial Region on the other side of the ocean.
Then disaster strikes again. Her father is lost at sea, and Bren is left with nothing but the clothes on her back, the things in her father's satchel, and the discovery that he has been lying about his reasons for leaving. When more of her father's secrets are revealed, it becomes clear that someone powerful is killing innocent people to keep those secrets hidden - and they are hunting for Bren.
As the only person alive who can figure out what her father knew, Bren winds up forming an alliance with two very different men. The first has been tasked with keeping her safe, and will do anything it takes to bring down the organization stalking her, no matter the cost. The other is a brilliant but icy Naval hero who has been branded a wanted man by the enemy.
With time running out and danger rising on every side, Bren must solve the trail of coded messages her father left for her and find the last piece of the puzzle before it falls into the wrong hands. The only rule of this game: do not get caught.
#1--Doesn't that sound SO intriguing? #2--Isn't that such a cool cover? #3--Doesn't that sound nothing like the sort of book that I, Little Miss Historical Romance For Life, would read?
Yes, yes, and yes.
But needless to say, I LOVED Shadow Road. Sure, it's not a definable anything--fantasy, but neither high nor dark, and somewhere in the middle of all those "punks." And, yes, it's also indie, which is generally avoided by readers simply because traditionally published books are (1) easier to find and (2) better in quality.
Not so for Shadow Road. This book was deposited right into my lap around the end of August, so I took the chance, bought it, and read it over last month. And, boy, am I glad I did! Usually, I'll share my review in my blog post with y'all, but since it's so long and since we've got a lot more to dive into, I'll redirect you to my review on Goodreads.
Now, let's dive in!
I was extremely blessed this weekend to get a chance to interview the lovely Mrs. Pennymaker (please note: that's not really her name, but if it were, it's on Mr. Pennymaker, so...) and I'd like to share with y'all her writing journey, sage advice, and a little bit about her debut novel, Shadow Road.
Want to read the interview and learn more about A. E. Pennymaker? Read it here!
September 25, 2020
Coming Soon...
...To theaters--Jocelyn Grover and Markus Keene are to star the feature film Held Captive, which is to be released Summer 2222 and will be produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, based on the novel of the same name by Grace A. Johnson.
Yeah. No. I didn't have you fooled, did I? I mean, there is no "Jocelyn Grover" or "Markus Keene," although I'd be beyond grateful if there were actors who fit the bill for Rina and Xavier. And there will definitely NOT be a theatrical release of a movie based upon my debut novel--at least, not within two years and probably not produced by the infamous Mr. Bruckheimer. A girl can dream, though...
No, no movie, but instead, I'll be updating y'all on what is coming soon...
Want to find out what I've got planned for the rest of this year? I've got a lot of cool things going on. Find out what they are here!
Yeah. No. I didn't have you fooled, did I? I mean, there is no "Jocelyn Grover" or "Markus Keene," although I'd be beyond grateful if there were actors who fit the bill for Rina and Xavier. And there will definitely NOT be a theatrical release of a movie based upon my debut novel--at least, not within two years and probably not produced by the infamous Mr. Bruckheimer. A girl can dream, though...
No, no movie, but instead, I'll be updating y'all on what is coming soon...
Want to find out what I've got planned for the rest of this year? I've got a lot of cool things going on. Find out what they are here!
September 24, 2020
Meet the Character--Keaton Edward James Clarke
So, maybe this is in honor of this week's Name of the Week...or maybe it's in honor of my upcoming release (no date set yet, unfortunately 😥), Bound and Determined, which features Keaton Clarke as its hero and one of the four (yes, there's four) main characters.
Since, of course, Bound and Determined is only halfway finished--and that's not counting editing, cover designing, formatting, publishing, marketing, et cetera, et cetera--I'll skimp on the spoilers. (No, not really. This is a spoiler-ish post, if you count learning the entire backstory of our beloved Keat and his motives and dreams and mushy-gushy personal stuff like that. And there may be an unedited excerpt or two, but I'll give a warning shout before that, 'kay? 'Kay.)
In my last book, Prisoner at Heart, we (and I, to be honest) got a chance to see more of Keaton than we did in Held Captive, and we also got a glimpse into his character and his history later on in the story. As I was crafting Elliot, the hero of PAH and Keaton's best friend, I was also beginning to see the differences between the two and how both of their minds work. So, yeah, I've been wanting to write this post for a long time, but I'm still grasping my character.
I believe the terminology I used back in December, with my last Meet the Character post, was that Elliot is a feeler and Keaton is a thinker. For Elliot, this means that, yeah, he feels anger, and, yeah, since he's so impulsive, he acts on it without a thought. It also means that he feels a lot of compassion, which is evident in this one scene in PAH. (I'll be honest, I never even saw this coming until, suddenly, I was writing an apology and I realized that Elliot had been a wee bit selfish. It was a really fun scene.)
"For so long, Crimson Wilde had been a name no better than a curse. A girl you’d want to avoid, a threat, an enemy. A reminder of the pain inflicted upon Rina and myself. But now...the more I was around her, the more I learned about her, the more I realized that she wasn’t just another Wilde, cold-hearted and cruel. She was a beautiful girl who hurt, who had pain of her own, memories that haunted her.
She was more than just a name. She was a face with eyes deeper than the ocean. She was wrists that had been scarred. She was a mother without her child. She was a heart that had been broken.
***
'I’m so sorry, Crimson.' His voice was painfully sincere, but instead of making me feel better, easing the pain, it only fanned a flame that I’d thought long burned-out.
'I didn’t tell you for pity, Mr. Fulton,' I growled, struggling against his hold. Pity was the last thing I wanted, exactly what I didn’t need. What everyone gave, no matter the problem. Which was why I preferred to keep my problems to myself.
Elliot didn’t release me. In fact, I could’ve sworn he held me tighter. 'I didn’t mean it that way, little Wilde. I meant that I’m sorry for treatin’ you like just that, like you’re nothin’ but a Wilde. I’m sorry for what happened to you, yes. But mostly, I’m sorry for bein’ so fed up with myself an’ my anger that I didn’t notice that other people hurt too.'
Wait. What?
He was apologizing for the way he’d treated me. For being blind to things not there for him to see. Wow. Rina must’ve really gotten to him. Because no one I’d ever met would ever be so...so apologetically sweet. Which didn’t make sense to even me, but I had made my point.
Elliot Fulton wasn’t like Jonas. Like Da, Randal, any other man in my life. He felt. He cared. He understood."
And, yes, I did omit a couple paragraphs up there. I have creative license, y'all, so no judgement. And, yes, wow was actually a word in the 1600s. In fact, it's been a Scottish exclamation for about 500 years--which was why I was so happy to use it in Crimson's POV.
Anyway, the point is that I saw something in Elliot there, something that triggered my looking deeper into Keaton. And this is what I've discovered...
Want to continue reading? Check out the full post here!
Since, of course, Bound and Determined is only halfway finished--and that's not counting editing, cover designing, formatting, publishing, marketing, et cetera, et cetera--I'll skimp on the spoilers. (No, not really. This is a spoiler-ish post, if you count learning the entire backstory of our beloved Keat and his motives and dreams and mushy-gushy personal stuff like that. And there may be an unedited excerpt or two, but I'll give a warning shout before that, 'kay? 'Kay.)
In my last book, Prisoner at Heart, we (and I, to be honest) got a chance to see more of Keaton than we did in Held Captive, and we also got a glimpse into his character and his history later on in the story. As I was crafting Elliot, the hero of PAH and Keaton's best friend, I was also beginning to see the differences between the two and how both of their minds work. So, yeah, I've been wanting to write this post for a long time, but I'm still grasping my character.
I believe the terminology I used back in December, with my last Meet the Character post, was that Elliot is a feeler and Keaton is a thinker. For Elliot, this means that, yeah, he feels anger, and, yeah, since he's so impulsive, he acts on it without a thought. It also means that he feels a lot of compassion, which is evident in this one scene in PAH. (I'll be honest, I never even saw this coming until, suddenly, I was writing an apology and I realized that Elliot had been a wee bit selfish. It was a really fun scene.)
"For so long, Crimson Wilde had been a name no better than a curse. A girl you’d want to avoid, a threat, an enemy. A reminder of the pain inflicted upon Rina and myself. But now...the more I was around her, the more I learned about her, the more I realized that she wasn’t just another Wilde, cold-hearted and cruel. She was a beautiful girl who hurt, who had pain of her own, memories that haunted her.
She was more than just a name. She was a face with eyes deeper than the ocean. She was wrists that had been scarred. She was a mother without her child. She was a heart that had been broken.
***
'I’m so sorry, Crimson.' His voice was painfully sincere, but instead of making me feel better, easing the pain, it only fanned a flame that I’d thought long burned-out.
'I didn’t tell you for pity, Mr. Fulton,' I growled, struggling against his hold. Pity was the last thing I wanted, exactly what I didn’t need. What everyone gave, no matter the problem. Which was why I preferred to keep my problems to myself.
Elliot didn’t release me. In fact, I could’ve sworn he held me tighter. 'I didn’t mean it that way, little Wilde. I meant that I’m sorry for treatin’ you like just that, like you’re nothin’ but a Wilde. I’m sorry for what happened to you, yes. But mostly, I’m sorry for bein’ so fed up with myself an’ my anger that I didn’t notice that other people hurt too.'
Wait. What?
He was apologizing for the way he’d treated me. For being blind to things not there for him to see. Wow. Rina must’ve really gotten to him. Because no one I’d ever met would ever be so...so apologetically sweet. Which didn’t make sense to even me, but I had made my point.
Elliot Fulton wasn’t like Jonas. Like Da, Randal, any other man in my life. He felt. He cared. He understood."
And, yes, I did omit a couple paragraphs up there. I have creative license, y'all, so no judgement. And, yes, wow was actually a word in the 1600s. In fact, it's been a Scottish exclamation for about 500 years--which was why I was so happy to use it in Crimson's POV.
Anyway, the point is that I saw something in Elliot there, something that triggered my looking deeper into Keaton. And this is what I've discovered...
Want to continue reading? Check out the full post here!
September 21, 2020
Bound and Determined Sneak Peek #2!
Well, I am ashamed to admit that whilst every other author in the entire world has been churning out books left and right during quarantine and social distancing and all that mumbo-jumbo, I've been...nothing. It took me a week to write Chapter 10 of Bound and Determined at the end of April, and I've only made it eleven more chapters since then. Yeah. I'm behind. It only took me six months to write 90,000 words while I was also in my first semester of college last year, but as soon as I get a nice, long summer break, I decide to take my precious time writing.
Oh, well. At least I've not been entirely unproductive. I've read a slew of books in the last several months--free eBooks, library books, print books, birthday books, I-should-not-have-bought-that-when-I'm-broke books, old books, new books, bargain-outlet-haul books, etc. Granted, I still haven't finished The Cost of Discipleship, which I began sometime last year. And I've only made it, like, two pages into The Hobbit, which I was supposed to have read earlier in the spring. And I still haven't fully immersed myself into the world of Georgette Heyer like I'd hoped to. But that's okay.
Because I have, thankfully, made it to the 71,000-word mark in Bound and Determined (which is looking eerily like the halfway mark), finished up Chapter 21, and finally--FINALLY--made it to the exciting part. I know, I know. I should have made the exciting part come somewhere in the first four or five chapters, right? Because I know my mom won't be able to muddle through 70,000+ words to get to the "good part."
Point is, I wanted to share with y'all a wee bit of my progress and some of my more spiritual moments, all in (yeah...I knew you couldn't guess it 😉) Xavier's POV. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it yet, but, yes, I am bringing back Xavier's point-of-view as he embarks on an adventure of his own. (An adventure that has annoyed me to no end, being that 'tis long and drawn-out and not quite that adventurous at all...but this is Xavier Bennet we're talking about.)
I think that, so far, my best "come to Jesus" moment was in Chapter 17, which is well on its way to being one of my best moments period, but I don't want to spoil anything just yet. Instead, I'm going to share an excerpt from one of the first few chapters and something I just wrote the other night. Something that I think we can all relate to. (Please note that these excerpts are currently unedited and subject to change.)
Chapter 5:
"Jeremiah 29:11 rose up to me again, alongside the Great Commission and Joshua 1:9. Again, I piped up, feeling like a child speaking out rather than an adult answering a question. 'Go, and do not be afraid; I will be with you even there, for I know the plans I have for you.'
Rina looked at me and smiled—which only served in making me seem more like a child who had said the right thing and was adored by their mother. 'Xavier is right. I sense a storm, but there is also calm.'
There is always calm in Christ. No matter where it is that you go or what it is that you do. He will be glorified. He will watch over you. His will shall be done. In Him, there is peace."
Chapter 21:
"I had listened to the words I’d pieced together solely for my own benefit. The go! The assurance that He would be with me. The prodding of peace. The calm of confidence. The certain verses that suited me. Had it been the Spirit I’d listened to…or my own wishes? my own hopes? my own assumptions? my own perverted flesh?
No matter where it is that you go…
Whether I’d gone with God and His Spirit’s call or not, He was still with me. Wasn’t He? Though it may not seem like it, feel like it—though I may not see His hand in the sudden loss of an innocent young man—He remained by my side. Always.
'When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.'
These words…"
Check out the rest of this post on my blog!
Oh, well. At least I've not been entirely unproductive. I've read a slew of books in the last several months--free eBooks, library books, print books, birthday books, I-should-not-have-bought-that-when-I'm-broke books, old books, new books, bargain-outlet-haul books, etc. Granted, I still haven't finished The Cost of Discipleship, which I began sometime last year. And I've only made it, like, two pages into The Hobbit, which I was supposed to have read earlier in the spring. And I still haven't fully immersed myself into the world of Georgette Heyer like I'd hoped to. But that's okay.
Because I have, thankfully, made it to the 71,000-word mark in Bound and Determined (which is looking eerily like the halfway mark), finished up Chapter 21, and finally--FINALLY--made it to the exciting part. I know, I know. I should have made the exciting part come somewhere in the first four or five chapters, right? Because I know my mom won't be able to muddle through 70,000+ words to get to the "good part."
Point is, I wanted to share with y'all a wee bit of my progress and some of my more spiritual moments, all in (yeah...I knew you couldn't guess it 😉) Xavier's POV. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it yet, but, yes, I am bringing back Xavier's point-of-view as he embarks on an adventure of his own. (An adventure that has annoyed me to no end, being that 'tis long and drawn-out and not quite that adventurous at all...but this is Xavier Bennet we're talking about.)
I think that, so far, my best "come to Jesus" moment was in Chapter 17, which is well on its way to being one of my best moments period, but I don't want to spoil anything just yet. Instead, I'm going to share an excerpt from one of the first few chapters and something I just wrote the other night. Something that I think we can all relate to. (Please note that these excerpts are currently unedited and subject to change.)
Chapter 5:
"Jeremiah 29:11 rose up to me again, alongside the Great Commission and Joshua 1:9. Again, I piped up, feeling like a child speaking out rather than an adult answering a question. 'Go, and do not be afraid; I will be with you even there, for I know the plans I have for you.'
Rina looked at me and smiled—which only served in making me seem more like a child who had said the right thing and was adored by their mother. 'Xavier is right. I sense a storm, but there is also calm.'
There is always calm in Christ. No matter where it is that you go or what it is that you do. He will be glorified. He will watch over you. His will shall be done. In Him, there is peace."
Chapter 21:
"I had listened to the words I’d pieced together solely for my own benefit. The go! The assurance that He would be with me. The prodding of peace. The calm of confidence. The certain verses that suited me. Had it been the Spirit I’d listened to…or my own wishes? my own hopes? my own assumptions? my own perverted flesh?
No matter where it is that you go…
Whether I’d gone with God and His Spirit’s call or not, He was still with me. Wasn’t He? Though it may not seem like it, feel like it—though I may not see His hand in the sudden loss of an innocent young man—He remained by my side. Always.
'When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.'
These words…"
Check out the rest of this post on my blog!
August 5, 2020
BTIS--Chapter 6
In this chapter, I introduced two characters: Detective Forrest Billingham and Cade's sister Keiri-Leigh Cannon. Believe it or not, these characters had previously existed in an idea for a lighthouse mystery as mystery-solving partners. Don't ask me when or why I decided to chunk them into Beyond the Inner Storm, but I'm so glad I did! They ended up becoming the main characters of the sequel, A Dream Fulfilled, which, of course, went bye-bye when I scratched BTIS. However, I've revived Kerri and Forrest both, giving them a Civil War-era murder mystery within a revised edition of my Darren/Cannon/Billingham world.
Although I can't be certain when I'll be able to finish Kerri and Forrest's currently untitled novel, I do hope that you'll enjoy reading a wee bit about their former selves. (Trust me, Forrest is now a much more interesting person, albeit slightly grumpy. So, never fear--he and Kerri both don't stay the same as they appear in these next few chapters. 😉)
Chapter 6
Forrest Billingham laid unconscious upstairs, Arielle was downstairs cooking dinner, and Cade was bored out of his mind.
After pacing the floor in the dining room for what was probably a half-hour, Cade walked up behind Arielle, who was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot. “Boo!” he yelled into her ear, seeing as how Arielle was too immersed in her cooking to sense his presence.
“Ahh!” She jumped and dropped her spoon before turning around and slapping Cade’s cheek.
“Oww. What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his sore jaw, trying and failing to contain a smile.
“For sneaking up on me, you stinker.” She picked up her spoon and turned back to her cooking, shaking her head in disgust over his actions. “Twenty-six and he’s still acting like a child,” he could hear her mutter under her breath as though speaking to the pot.
“I’m bored, Mommy,” he playfully whined to bring truth to her words. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and heaved a sigh, slumping his shoulders.
Arielle poured the steaming concoction that she was cooking into a bowl. “Good, ‘cause I have a job for you.” She thrust the bowl out in front of him, sticking a spoon into it. “Go see if Mr. Billingham is awake. If he is, give him this,” she commanded, nodding her head towards the stairs.
“Yes, Mommy.” Cade took the bowl from her hands and bounded up the stairs to where Mr. Billingham rested in the attic. Slowly, he opened the door and peaked in, unsure if the man was awake.
Thankfully, Mr. Billingham sat up in his bed, wide awake, though he looked a little worse for wear, that was for sure. His dark brown hair was a mess, resembling a bird’s nest in all honesty, and the gray circles under his eyes made his skin seem even lighter. Poor man. But even still, a smile lit up his face. “Praise God,” he declared, waving his arms through the air. “Decent folk. For a second, I was afraid I had been taken in by pirates.” He laughed, then immediately winced at the pain the action caused. He’d probably bruised a few ribs in that tumble he’d taken.
Cade chuckled, crossing the threshold and walking towards his bedside. “Sorry, sir, no pirates here. Just me and my friend,” he replied, glad himself that their visitor seemed to be decent as well.
Forrest nodded, raising an eyebrow, the side of his mouth quirking into an odd line. “I’m guessing your friend’s a lady, eh?”
He grinned. “You guess quite well, Mr. Billingham.”
“Ahh, it’s my job. I’m a detective, though I’m guessing you already knew that, seeing as how you have my card over there.” He pointed to the side table where the soaked piece of paper Arielle had found in his pocket laid.
“Another good guess.” Cade walked up to the man. He laid the bowl on the table and extended his hand. “Cade Darren, the light keeper.”
Forrest firmly grasped his hand despite the pain he was in and shook it. “Detective Forrest Billingham, at your service,” he said. “Light keeper, eh? I figured as much. So, about this lady friend of yours, just a friend?”
“Ha, yes. We’ve only known each other a week,” Cade stated.
“Oh.”
Cade handed him the bowl of soup, and he started eating. “Your lady friend is a good cook,” Forrest commented. “Didn’t get much good food on that ship. Then again, it’s hard to find good food most anywhere.”
“Very true. Speaking of Arielle―that’s her name―I ought to let her know that you’re awake.”
Forrest nodded his head in acknowledgment.
Cade exited the room and made his way down the stairs. He was greeted by Arielle standing right in front of him at the bottom of the steps.
“He’s obviously awake, huh, Cadey?” she said, crossing her arms and attempting a stern glare.
“Yep, and I think he’d like to meet you,” he replied.
“Very well.” She started walking up the stairway but stopped halfway. “Hey, Cade. I need you to go into town and pick up some things. I have a list on the counter. Could you do that for me?” she asked, her voice sweet like honey, tossing the words over her shoulder.
“Anything for you, Ari,” he answered, not realizing just how much he meant those words. Yep, he’d do anything for that girl.
“We’ll see about that.” She hurried up the stairs to check on her patient.
***
Cade stopped and looked up at the sign above him, then looked down at the list in his hands. Good, he had finally found the general store. The list Arielle had given him took him all over the town, and multiple times he had gotten lost. It was a small town but a maze of one even still. She needed food, tools, and more paint, but only a certain kind of paint. Goodness, was she was awfully specific or what?
Cade swung open the door to the store, the cowbell that hung at the top of the door jingling, which was punctuated by a sharp scream as a little kid ran towards him, a doll clutched in his hands.
“Tommy! Give it back!” shouted a girl as she tugged on the kid’s shirt sleeve, jerking him away from where Cade stood.
The boy―probably her elder brother―wrenched away from her grip, then pulled the girl’s red braids. “Never!” he yelled.
The girl slapped him, and he shrieked in pain.
Afraid the children would ended up pulling his hair and tugging on his shirt, Cade slipped by the fighting siblings and made his way towards the back of the shop, past where the young’uns’ mother stood examining some rolls of fabric.
A tall man with graying hair stood behind the counter. “How canna be of service t’ ya?” the man asked with southern accent, resting his elbows on the counter top and leaning forward, an eyebrow lifted in question.
“I’m looking for acrylic paint. Would you happen to have any of that?” Cade inquired, glancing around the shop. Behind the man were shelves stocked with multiple items, paper, tools, flowerpots even.
“Yeah, I gotta couple sets. Gimme a second,” the man answered as he turned and reached under the counter. He pulled out two sets of paint. One had a few basic colors, while the other looked more like the one he had seen Arielle use, with more tints and shades.
Cade pointed to the second set. “That one, sir.”
“Alrighty. So, ya a painter?” the man asked.
Cade laughed. “No. I’m Cade Darren, the light keeper at the old lighthouse not far from here. The paints are for a friend,” he replied, not bothering to go into detail about his friend.
Before the man could answer, the annoying children’s mother―whom Cade recognized to be Mrs. Halstead ―turned from the fabric she was looking at and leaned in between the two men. “You know that old place is haunted, right?” she whispered into Cade's ear.
“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Halstead, I gathered that before I arrived that. But I’ve been there a week and I haven’t seen a ghost yet,” Cade answered, though he’d seen something much more interesting than a spirit.
“Oh, I’ve seen her,” she stated, raising her voice to it’s normal tone.
“Yep, creepy lookin’ thang, that ghost girl,” the store owner added, nodding his head.
“A girl, you say? Well, I will keep my eye out for her.” Not that he needed to.
“Yes, deary, a girl. She has long white hair and a ghost dog that follows her around. Beware of her, she might do harmful things to a poor young men like you,” Mrs. Halstead warned.
“But I thought she was a ghost?” Cade said, being careful not to reveal Arielle's true identity, knowing he’d get in big trouble if he did. Everyone believed her to have died, so she said, and if he mentioned her, it’d cause quite an uproar.
“You never know what a ghost can do.” Mrs. Halstead turned to her children. “Tommy, let go of Millie’s hair. Millie, put the toy back. Jamie, hand me the purple cloth”" she commanded her children.
Tommy dropped his hand from his sister’s hair at his mother’s command, and the girl with red hair, Millie placed a small doll back on the shelf behind her. The eldest child, Jamie handed his mother the cloth she had been looking at earlier.
Cade took the set of paint that laid on the counter, paid the man, and left the shop. After taking a few steps forward, a small flurry of brown and blue ran straight his chest. He caught the person by her forearms and steadied her, trying to extract himself from her, but the girl didn’t budge. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically, this town’s got silly flirts. Over the years he’d had his experience with young ladies that wouldn’t let go of his arm, or, if he happened to bump into them, the girl wouldn’t step back. Instead, they would just flutter those long lashes, just like the woman in his arms did.
“My, my. To what do I owe this handsome young man that caught me from a horrid fall?” the woman asked, her voice breathy and smooth, as though she’d made a habit of speaking those same words. Then she lifted her lashes, drawing her gaze from his chest his face, revealing familiar chocolate eyes.
Cade took a step back, releasing her shoulders. “Good heavens, Kerri-Leigh Darren Cannon. What are you doing flirting with your brother?” Cade teased after realizing the girl in his arms was his little sister. How long had it been? A year, maybe, since he had seen his baby sister. They’d made a habit of writing each other after he’d left home to work as a light-keeper. But seeing each other in person wasn’t an easy feat, not with that husband of hers.
His sister let her hands slide off Cade’s chest and smiled. “My, my, Cade. How was I supposed to know? I haven’t seen you in over two years. You look awfully handsome. Caught you a wife yet?” Kerri said, smoothing her deep sapphire dress, peeking up at him, her eyes probing for answer.
“One question at a time, silly. You shouldn’t flirt, brother or not; you’re married. I missed you, too. You look gorgeous yourself. And, no, I haven’t ‘caught’ a wife,” Cade quickly answered, having plenty of practice with Kerri’s quick talking. He crossed his arms over his chest and pasted on a scolding expression.
“Oh, married, shmarried. You know I didn’t chose to marry Marcus. Beside, he’s terrible. Always drinking and gambling. Now, why haven’t you gotten married yet? You’re the handsomest man in all of Michigan. Women should be flocking to you, Cade. What did you do? Run them off with your boorish talk of lighthouses?” Kerri continued her rambling, talking Cade’s ears off as usual.
Cade grabbed her hand, and they started walking through the town, Kerri endlessly chatting the whole time.
Cade finally got tired of her nonstop prattle and placed his hand over her mouth. “I tell you what. How about we go to the lighthouse? I’ve got a friend that would really enjoy listening to your blather,” he suggested. So, Arielle probably wouldn’t be able to stand his little sister’s chatter any more than he could, but it would help give his ears a rest. Then again, Forrest might enjoy listening to Kerri.
Kerri pulled his hand off her mouth. “That sounds wonderful. Marcus is off on another business trip, so I’m free. Which is exactly how I got to be here. You know, that man won’t let me leave the house for anything, that is, unless I’m with him. About this friend, a girl, right? Oh, is she pretty? Sweet? Where’s she from?” She continued asking questions about Arielle as Cade walked out of the town.
Before long, Cade and his sister made it to the lighthouse.
When Kerri saw the lighthouse, her mouth fell open and she stood motionless for a long moment. “Cade, this is the lighthouse?” she questioned.
“Is there something wrong, Kerri?” he inquired, turning to face her.
“You wrote to me a couple weeks ago that you were running an unfinished lighthouse. Not a gorgeous tower like this. This is even prettier than the last one. Is the light in? No, it probably wouldn’t be. Hmm, judging by the style, must’ve been built around a decade ago.” She pointed to the tall, white lighthouse that stood in front of them. Though she acted as though she despised lighthouses, she was constantly mentioning that fact, Cade knew she was obsessed. Once, she’d spent an entire evening telling him all about how to clean and replace the light. Only Cade knew just how much she liked them, even wanted to run her own one day. Though no one allowed women to do so, and Marcus wouldn’t let her read, much less run a lighthouse.
“Arielle and I have spent the past week fixing it up,” Cade stated.
“Arielle, huh? Your friend?” Kerri started walking up towards the keeper’s cabin. She politely knocked on the blue door and was greeted by Arielle, who was covered in flour and looked like the ghost she was thought to be.
“Hallo, I’m Arielle. And you are?” Arielle said, smiling and wiping the flour off her face.
“I’m Kerri-Leigh Cannon, Cade’s little sister,” Kerri answered as Cade stepped up beside her. At Arielle’s motion towards the house, she walked inside, a gasp leaving her lips.
Cade walked up to Arielle. “I hope you don't mind more company. I ran into her in town and invited her.”
“That’s fine, Cadey. I’ve been wanting to meet your sister,” she replied with her normal sweetness.
They walked into the house to find that Kerri had already plopped down at the dinner table and struck up a conversation with Detective Billingham, who sat at the table enjoying fresh-baked muffins. Not that it took her long to begin talking.
“We’ve got our hands full, huh, Ari?” Cade asked.
“Definitely.”
Although I can't be certain when I'll be able to finish Kerri and Forrest's currently untitled novel, I do hope that you'll enjoy reading a wee bit about their former selves. (Trust me, Forrest is now a much more interesting person, albeit slightly grumpy. So, never fear--he and Kerri both don't stay the same as they appear in these next few chapters. 😉)
Chapter 6
Forrest Billingham laid unconscious upstairs, Arielle was downstairs cooking dinner, and Cade was bored out of his mind.
After pacing the floor in the dining room for what was probably a half-hour, Cade walked up behind Arielle, who was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot. “Boo!” he yelled into her ear, seeing as how Arielle was too immersed in her cooking to sense his presence.
“Ahh!” She jumped and dropped her spoon before turning around and slapping Cade’s cheek.
“Oww. What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his sore jaw, trying and failing to contain a smile.
“For sneaking up on me, you stinker.” She picked up her spoon and turned back to her cooking, shaking her head in disgust over his actions. “Twenty-six and he’s still acting like a child,” he could hear her mutter under her breath as though speaking to the pot.
“I’m bored, Mommy,” he playfully whined to bring truth to her words. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and heaved a sigh, slumping his shoulders.
Arielle poured the steaming concoction that she was cooking into a bowl. “Good, ‘cause I have a job for you.” She thrust the bowl out in front of him, sticking a spoon into it. “Go see if Mr. Billingham is awake. If he is, give him this,” she commanded, nodding her head towards the stairs.
“Yes, Mommy.” Cade took the bowl from her hands and bounded up the stairs to where Mr. Billingham rested in the attic. Slowly, he opened the door and peaked in, unsure if the man was awake.
Thankfully, Mr. Billingham sat up in his bed, wide awake, though he looked a little worse for wear, that was for sure. His dark brown hair was a mess, resembling a bird’s nest in all honesty, and the gray circles under his eyes made his skin seem even lighter. Poor man. But even still, a smile lit up his face. “Praise God,” he declared, waving his arms through the air. “Decent folk. For a second, I was afraid I had been taken in by pirates.” He laughed, then immediately winced at the pain the action caused. He’d probably bruised a few ribs in that tumble he’d taken.
Cade chuckled, crossing the threshold and walking towards his bedside. “Sorry, sir, no pirates here. Just me and my friend,” he replied, glad himself that their visitor seemed to be decent as well.
Forrest nodded, raising an eyebrow, the side of his mouth quirking into an odd line. “I’m guessing your friend’s a lady, eh?”
He grinned. “You guess quite well, Mr. Billingham.”
“Ahh, it’s my job. I’m a detective, though I’m guessing you already knew that, seeing as how you have my card over there.” He pointed to the side table where the soaked piece of paper Arielle had found in his pocket laid.
“Another good guess.” Cade walked up to the man. He laid the bowl on the table and extended his hand. “Cade Darren, the light keeper.”
Forrest firmly grasped his hand despite the pain he was in and shook it. “Detective Forrest Billingham, at your service,” he said. “Light keeper, eh? I figured as much. So, about this lady friend of yours, just a friend?”
“Ha, yes. We’ve only known each other a week,” Cade stated.
“Oh.”
Cade handed him the bowl of soup, and he started eating. “Your lady friend is a good cook,” Forrest commented. “Didn’t get much good food on that ship. Then again, it’s hard to find good food most anywhere.”
“Very true. Speaking of Arielle―that’s her name―I ought to let her know that you’re awake.”
Forrest nodded his head in acknowledgment.
Cade exited the room and made his way down the stairs. He was greeted by Arielle standing right in front of him at the bottom of the steps.
“He’s obviously awake, huh, Cadey?” she said, crossing her arms and attempting a stern glare.
“Yep, and I think he’d like to meet you,” he replied.
“Very well.” She started walking up the stairway but stopped halfway. “Hey, Cade. I need you to go into town and pick up some things. I have a list on the counter. Could you do that for me?” she asked, her voice sweet like honey, tossing the words over her shoulder.
“Anything for you, Ari,” he answered, not realizing just how much he meant those words. Yep, he’d do anything for that girl.
“We’ll see about that.” She hurried up the stairs to check on her patient.
***
Cade stopped and looked up at the sign above him, then looked down at the list in his hands. Good, he had finally found the general store. The list Arielle had given him took him all over the town, and multiple times he had gotten lost. It was a small town but a maze of one even still. She needed food, tools, and more paint, but only a certain kind of paint. Goodness, was she was awfully specific or what?
Cade swung open the door to the store, the cowbell that hung at the top of the door jingling, which was punctuated by a sharp scream as a little kid ran towards him, a doll clutched in his hands.
“Tommy! Give it back!” shouted a girl as she tugged on the kid’s shirt sleeve, jerking him away from where Cade stood.
The boy―probably her elder brother―wrenched away from her grip, then pulled the girl’s red braids. “Never!” he yelled.
The girl slapped him, and he shrieked in pain.
Afraid the children would ended up pulling his hair and tugging on his shirt, Cade slipped by the fighting siblings and made his way towards the back of the shop, past where the young’uns’ mother stood examining some rolls of fabric.
A tall man with graying hair stood behind the counter. “How canna be of service t’ ya?” the man asked with southern accent, resting his elbows on the counter top and leaning forward, an eyebrow lifted in question.
“I’m looking for acrylic paint. Would you happen to have any of that?” Cade inquired, glancing around the shop. Behind the man were shelves stocked with multiple items, paper, tools, flowerpots even.
“Yeah, I gotta couple sets. Gimme a second,” the man answered as he turned and reached under the counter. He pulled out two sets of paint. One had a few basic colors, while the other looked more like the one he had seen Arielle use, with more tints and shades.
Cade pointed to the second set. “That one, sir.”
“Alrighty. So, ya a painter?” the man asked.
Cade laughed. “No. I’m Cade Darren, the light keeper at the old lighthouse not far from here. The paints are for a friend,” he replied, not bothering to go into detail about his friend.
Before the man could answer, the annoying children’s mother―whom Cade recognized to be Mrs. Halstead ―turned from the fabric she was looking at and leaned in between the two men. “You know that old place is haunted, right?” she whispered into Cade's ear.
“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Halstead, I gathered that before I arrived that. But I’ve been there a week and I haven’t seen a ghost yet,” Cade answered, though he’d seen something much more interesting than a spirit.
“Oh, I’ve seen her,” she stated, raising her voice to it’s normal tone.
“Yep, creepy lookin’ thang, that ghost girl,” the store owner added, nodding his head.
“A girl, you say? Well, I will keep my eye out for her.” Not that he needed to.
“Yes, deary, a girl. She has long white hair and a ghost dog that follows her around. Beware of her, she might do harmful things to a poor young men like you,” Mrs. Halstead warned.
“But I thought she was a ghost?” Cade said, being careful not to reveal Arielle's true identity, knowing he’d get in big trouble if he did. Everyone believed her to have died, so she said, and if he mentioned her, it’d cause quite an uproar.
“You never know what a ghost can do.” Mrs. Halstead turned to her children. “Tommy, let go of Millie’s hair. Millie, put the toy back. Jamie, hand me the purple cloth”" she commanded her children.
Tommy dropped his hand from his sister’s hair at his mother’s command, and the girl with red hair, Millie placed a small doll back on the shelf behind her. The eldest child, Jamie handed his mother the cloth she had been looking at earlier.
Cade took the set of paint that laid on the counter, paid the man, and left the shop. After taking a few steps forward, a small flurry of brown and blue ran straight his chest. He caught the person by her forearms and steadied her, trying to extract himself from her, but the girl didn’t budge. Wonderful, he thought sarcastically, this town’s got silly flirts. Over the years he’d had his experience with young ladies that wouldn’t let go of his arm, or, if he happened to bump into them, the girl wouldn’t step back. Instead, they would just flutter those long lashes, just like the woman in his arms did.
“My, my. To what do I owe this handsome young man that caught me from a horrid fall?” the woman asked, her voice breathy and smooth, as though she’d made a habit of speaking those same words. Then she lifted her lashes, drawing her gaze from his chest his face, revealing familiar chocolate eyes.
Cade took a step back, releasing her shoulders. “Good heavens, Kerri-Leigh Darren Cannon. What are you doing flirting with your brother?” Cade teased after realizing the girl in his arms was his little sister. How long had it been? A year, maybe, since he had seen his baby sister. They’d made a habit of writing each other after he’d left home to work as a light-keeper. But seeing each other in person wasn’t an easy feat, not with that husband of hers.
His sister let her hands slide off Cade’s chest and smiled. “My, my, Cade. How was I supposed to know? I haven’t seen you in over two years. You look awfully handsome. Caught you a wife yet?” Kerri said, smoothing her deep sapphire dress, peeking up at him, her eyes probing for answer.
“One question at a time, silly. You shouldn’t flirt, brother or not; you’re married. I missed you, too. You look gorgeous yourself. And, no, I haven’t ‘caught’ a wife,” Cade quickly answered, having plenty of practice with Kerri’s quick talking. He crossed his arms over his chest and pasted on a scolding expression.
“Oh, married, shmarried. You know I didn’t chose to marry Marcus. Beside, he’s terrible. Always drinking and gambling. Now, why haven’t you gotten married yet? You’re the handsomest man in all of Michigan. Women should be flocking to you, Cade. What did you do? Run them off with your boorish talk of lighthouses?” Kerri continued her rambling, talking Cade’s ears off as usual.
Cade grabbed her hand, and they started walking through the town, Kerri endlessly chatting the whole time.
Cade finally got tired of her nonstop prattle and placed his hand over her mouth. “I tell you what. How about we go to the lighthouse? I’ve got a friend that would really enjoy listening to your blather,” he suggested. So, Arielle probably wouldn’t be able to stand his little sister’s chatter any more than he could, but it would help give his ears a rest. Then again, Forrest might enjoy listening to Kerri.
Kerri pulled his hand off her mouth. “That sounds wonderful. Marcus is off on another business trip, so I’m free. Which is exactly how I got to be here. You know, that man won’t let me leave the house for anything, that is, unless I’m with him. About this friend, a girl, right? Oh, is she pretty? Sweet? Where’s she from?” She continued asking questions about Arielle as Cade walked out of the town.
Before long, Cade and his sister made it to the lighthouse.
When Kerri saw the lighthouse, her mouth fell open and she stood motionless for a long moment. “Cade, this is the lighthouse?” she questioned.
“Is there something wrong, Kerri?” he inquired, turning to face her.
“You wrote to me a couple weeks ago that you were running an unfinished lighthouse. Not a gorgeous tower like this. This is even prettier than the last one. Is the light in? No, it probably wouldn’t be. Hmm, judging by the style, must’ve been built around a decade ago.” She pointed to the tall, white lighthouse that stood in front of them. Though she acted as though she despised lighthouses, she was constantly mentioning that fact, Cade knew she was obsessed. Once, she’d spent an entire evening telling him all about how to clean and replace the light. Only Cade knew just how much she liked them, even wanted to run her own one day. Though no one allowed women to do so, and Marcus wouldn’t let her read, much less run a lighthouse.
“Arielle and I have spent the past week fixing it up,” Cade stated.
“Arielle, huh? Your friend?” Kerri started walking up towards the keeper’s cabin. She politely knocked on the blue door and was greeted by Arielle, who was covered in flour and looked like the ghost she was thought to be.
“Hallo, I’m Arielle. And you are?” Arielle said, smiling and wiping the flour off her face.
“I’m Kerri-Leigh Cannon, Cade’s little sister,” Kerri answered as Cade stepped up beside her. At Arielle’s motion towards the house, she walked inside, a gasp leaving her lips.
Cade walked up to Arielle. “I hope you don't mind more company. I ran into her in town and invited her.”
“That’s fine, Cadey. I’ve been wanting to meet your sister,” she replied with her normal sweetness.
They walked into the house to find that Kerri had already plopped down at the dinner table and struck up a conversation with Detective Billingham, who sat at the table enjoying fresh-baked muffins. Not that it took her long to begin talking.
“We’ve got our hands full, huh, Ari?” Cade asked.
“Definitely.”
August 4, 2020
A Portrait of Loyalty
Anyone who follows what I read and what I've posted, then y'all know that I ADORE Roseanna M. White's novels. I can still remember when I first saw her The Reluctant Duchess on the shelf of Books-A-Million and thinking, "Hey, that looks interesting." A couple days later, I'd put a hold on it and the other two books in the series at the library and within a month, I was a Roseanna fan.
Well, her newest series, The Codebreakers, is about to come to an end next month with the release of her latest novel, A Portrait of Loyalty. Today, I'd like to share with y'all how you can get first dibs on this wonderful book.
The release date is set for September 8th, but you not only have a chance to pre-order A Portrait of Loyalty on Amazon (https://amzn.to/3feh2VG), Barnes & Noble (https//bit.ly/2XbYz68), Christian Book (https://bit.ly/2XaCip8), and her online store--signed copy, guys--(https://bit.ly/30cG5Ef), but you can also receive a serial sneak peek in your inbox when you sign up for Roseanna's newsletter here: https://bit.ly/39FY4WM. Even if you've already signed up for her newsletter, you need to sign up specifically for the sneak peeks.
Now, I can assure you that, after sneaking peeks of her previous novels The Number of Love and the beautiful On Wings of Devotion, these sneak peeks are TOTALLY worth it! Plus, if you sign up for her newsletter, you'll get notified about her array of other treats, like podcasts, blog posts, book news, and new items in her online store.
So, if pre-order discounts and sneak peeks haven't convinced you to invest in Roseanna's A Portrait of Loyalty, then I have two more bullets. This beautiful blurb:
He sees patterns in what she deems chaos.
She sees beauty in a world he thought destroyed.
Zivon Marin was one of Russia's top cryptographers until the October Revolution tore apart his world. Forced to flee to England after speaking out against Lenin, Zivon is driven by a growing anger and determined to offer his services to the Brits. But never far from his mind is his brother, whom Zivon fears died in the train crash that separated them.
Lily Blackwell sees the world best through the lens of a camera and possesses unsurpassed skill when it comes to retouching and re-creating photographs. With her father's connections in propaganda, she's recruited to the intelligence division, even though her mother would disapprove if she ever found out.
After Captain Blackwell invites Zivon to dinner one evening, a friendship blooms between him and Lily that soon takes over their hearts. But both have secrets they're unwilling to share, and neither is entirely sure they can trust the other. When Zivon's loyalties are called into question, proving him honest is about more than one couple's future dreams--it becomes a matter of ending the war.
And my review of On Wings of Devotion here: https://novelist056.wixsite.com/grace...
I absolutely loved On Wings of Devotion, in which I met both Lily and Zivon (which proved that I'll love A Portrait of Loyalty) and truly believe that it is one of the best Christian historical fiction releases of the year. Roseanna is an amazing writer who perfectly balances mystery, action, and suspense with humor and wit, heartfelt romance, and a wonderful story of God's love and grace. She has a great eye for detail and emotion, which, coupled with her gorgeous prose, always results in a terrific novel!
Keep an eye out for more updates on A Portrait of Loyalty, including my review sometime at the end of this month!
Well, her newest series, The Codebreakers, is about to come to an end next month with the release of her latest novel, A Portrait of Loyalty. Today, I'd like to share with y'all how you can get first dibs on this wonderful book.
The release date is set for September 8th, but you not only have a chance to pre-order A Portrait of Loyalty on Amazon (https://amzn.to/3feh2VG), Barnes & Noble (https//bit.ly/2XbYz68), Christian Book (https://bit.ly/2XaCip8), and her online store--signed copy, guys--(https://bit.ly/30cG5Ef), but you can also receive a serial sneak peek in your inbox when you sign up for Roseanna's newsletter here: https://bit.ly/39FY4WM. Even if you've already signed up for her newsletter, you need to sign up specifically for the sneak peeks.
Now, I can assure you that, after sneaking peeks of her previous novels The Number of Love and the beautiful On Wings of Devotion, these sneak peeks are TOTALLY worth it! Plus, if you sign up for her newsletter, you'll get notified about her array of other treats, like podcasts, blog posts, book news, and new items in her online store.
So, if pre-order discounts and sneak peeks haven't convinced you to invest in Roseanna's A Portrait of Loyalty, then I have two more bullets. This beautiful blurb:
He sees patterns in what she deems chaos.
She sees beauty in a world he thought destroyed.
Zivon Marin was one of Russia's top cryptographers until the October Revolution tore apart his world. Forced to flee to England after speaking out against Lenin, Zivon is driven by a growing anger and determined to offer his services to the Brits. But never far from his mind is his brother, whom Zivon fears died in the train crash that separated them.
Lily Blackwell sees the world best through the lens of a camera and possesses unsurpassed skill when it comes to retouching and re-creating photographs. With her father's connections in propaganda, she's recruited to the intelligence division, even though her mother would disapprove if she ever found out.
After Captain Blackwell invites Zivon to dinner one evening, a friendship blooms between him and Lily that soon takes over their hearts. But both have secrets they're unwilling to share, and neither is entirely sure they can trust the other. When Zivon's loyalties are called into question, proving him honest is about more than one couple's future dreams--it becomes a matter of ending the war.
And my review of On Wings of Devotion here: https://novelist056.wixsite.com/grace...
I absolutely loved On Wings of Devotion, in which I met both Lily and Zivon (which proved that I'll love A Portrait of Loyalty) and truly believe that it is one of the best Christian historical fiction releases of the year. Roseanna is an amazing writer who perfectly balances mystery, action, and suspense with humor and wit, heartfelt romance, and a wonderful story of God's love and grace. She has a great eye for detail and emotion, which, coupled with her gorgeous prose, always results in a terrific novel!
Keep an eye out for more updates on A Portrait of Loyalty, including my review sometime at the end of this month!
Name of the Week: Rina
So, in all my blog reading (be it authors or otherwise), I've found most bloggers have a signature type of post that comes out on a certain day of the week. Some, with more of an interested in blogging and organized mindset, have every post specifically subjected (would that be the correct usage of subjected?) with a Such-and-Such Saturday at 5 am and a This-and-That Thursday at noon.
Now, I have two tied-to-writing-but-not-too-much-to-be-considered-annoying-like-why-won't-this-lady-shut-up-about-writing-and-stuff obsessions. Words and names. And, yes, I understand that's basically the same thing, but there is a definable difference. Would you name your child table or smart or leaf-blower or decadent? No? Okay, good. You get my point. 😉
I would love to opt for the "word of week" thing, but seeing as how there's already a Mexican Word of the Day and one of my favorite authors, Roseanna M. White, has a "word of the week" every Monday, I figured that it would be best to go with the names. Now, all y'all Nameberry people can keep your stink eyes to yourself. Every Monday night (hopefully...and night could mean 6 pm or 10pm; we'll see), I'll pick a name of one of the characters in a book I've written or story idea I'm working on and highlight its meaning, origins, and why I chose it. So, no, I will not be supplanting Nameberry or any other baby-naming site.
This week's name will be Rina, in honor of the heroine of my debut novel Held Captive and supporting (very supporting) character of the next two novels in the series.
So, her name is actually Catherina (originally spelled Cathrina by a twelve-year-old me), but she goes by Rina pretty much all the time...unless she's with her prim-and-proper mother, of course. Now, since they are two separate names, I'll be highlighting them both, starting with Catherina.
During the days of "Untitled Idea About Two Pirates Searching for Buried Treasure" (yeah...that's the best I could come up with on such short notice), she was just plain Catherina. How I decided on that, I cannot tell you. And not because it's classified. I actually don't know. I remember how I came up with Xavier, but that's a story for another week. 😉 It had a regal sound, classic because of the Catherine/Katherine connotations, yet seemed slightly exotic with the a at the end. Since she was born only, roughly, fifty years after the Renaissance (although the era has no set start and end date, I suppose), the Latinization (and, yes, that is a word) of the name kind of fit.
Catherina, which can be pronounced kath-a-REE-na or--as I prefer--kath-REE-na or ka-THREE-na, is a variant of Katherine (used rarely in English), a Greek name by origin. Katherine's true roots are debatable, with so many different Greek words that are either tied to or look like the name. According to Behind the Name, it could mean "torture," "my consecration of your name," or "each of the two." Not really very inspiring, I'll admit. As time went on and Christianty spread throughout the word, it became more closely related to the Greek καθαρός (katharos), which means "pure," (definitely more inspiring) Because of this the Latin spelling was hen changed from Katerina to Katharina. Hence, Catherina. Katherine/Catherine has been borne by many saints, queens, noblewomen, etc., and is often used in their honor.
When, out of the blue, I decided that Lady Catherina needed a nickname, Rina was the first and only thought in my head. Rina is actually a Hebrew name meaning "to rejoice" or "to sing," which is very inspiring, although not entirely tailored to Rina's personality. 😆 It can be spelled Rena and is almost always pronounced REE-na. That being said, my aunt's name is Rena and we all call her Renee (Rah-nay).
After a while, Rina really began to fit (Catherina still seems a little weird) and I can see now how well Rina embodies her name. She's straightforward, short (not literally; she's over six feet), blunt, but also classy, unique, sleek, and beautiful in multiple ways. Rina may not strike terror into the hearts of men, but both her full name and nickname are positively gorgeous and fit her well.
So, shall Rina and I be rejoicing and singing praises over the purity of her name? I should think so!
Now, I have two tied-to-writing-but-not-too-much-to-be-considered-annoying-like-why-won't-this-lady-shut-up-about-writing-and-stuff obsessions. Words and names. And, yes, I understand that's basically the same thing, but there is a definable difference. Would you name your child table or smart or leaf-blower or decadent? No? Okay, good. You get my point. 😉
I would love to opt for the "word of week" thing, but seeing as how there's already a Mexican Word of the Day and one of my favorite authors, Roseanna M. White, has a "word of the week" every Monday, I figured that it would be best to go with the names. Now, all y'all Nameberry people can keep your stink eyes to yourself. Every Monday night (hopefully...and night could mean 6 pm or 10pm; we'll see), I'll pick a name of one of the characters in a book I've written or story idea I'm working on and highlight its meaning, origins, and why I chose it. So, no, I will not be supplanting Nameberry or any other baby-naming site.
This week's name will be Rina, in honor of the heroine of my debut novel Held Captive and supporting (very supporting) character of the next two novels in the series.
So, her name is actually Catherina (originally spelled Cathrina by a twelve-year-old me), but she goes by Rina pretty much all the time...unless she's with her prim-and-proper mother, of course. Now, since they are two separate names, I'll be highlighting them both, starting with Catherina.
During the days of "Untitled Idea About Two Pirates Searching for Buried Treasure" (yeah...that's the best I could come up with on such short notice), she was just plain Catherina. How I decided on that, I cannot tell you. And not because it's classified. I actually don't know. I remember how I came up with Xavier, but that's a story for another week. 😉 It had a regal sound, classic because of the Catherine/Katherine connotations, yet seemed slightly exotic with the a at the end. Since she was born only, roughly, fifty years after the Renaissance (although the era has no set start and end date, I suppose), the Latinization (and, yes, that is a word) of the name kind of fit.
Catherina, which can be pronounced kath-a-REE-na or--as I prefer--kath-REE-na or ka-THREE-na, is a variant of Katherine (used rarely in English), a Greek name by origin. Katherine's true roots are debatable, with so many different Greek words that are either tied to or look like the name. According to Behind the Name, it could mean "torture," "my consecration of your name," or "each of the two." Not really very inspiring, I'll admit. As time went on and Christianty spread throughout the word, it became more closely related to the Greek καθαρός (katharos), which means "pure," (definitely more inspiring) Because of this the Latin spelling was hen changed from Katerina to Katharina. Hence, Catherina. Katherine/Catherine has been borne by many saints, queens, noblewomen, etc., and is often used in their honor.
When, out of the blue, I decided that Lady Catherina needed a nickname, Rina was the first and only thought in my head. Rina is actually a Hebrew name meaning "to rejoice" or "to sing," which is very inspiring, although not entirely tailored to Rina's personality. 😆 It can be spelled Rena and is almost always pronounced REE-na. That being said, my aunt's name is Rena and we all call her Renee (Rah-nay).
After a while, Rina really began to fit (Catherina still seems a little weird) and I can see now how well Rina embodies her name. She's straightforward, short (not literally; she's over six feet), blunt, but also classy, unique, sleek, and beautiful in multiple ways. Rina may not strike terror into the hearts of men, but both her full name and nickname are positively gorgeous and fit her well.
So, shall Rina and I be rejoicing and singing praises over the purity of her name? I should think so!
August 3, 2020
The Journey of Held Captive--Part 3
For the last two Sundays, I've been sharing with y'all the long, drawn-out comedy of errors and cautionary tale I call the journey of Held Captive, my debut novel which released on Amazon in paperback and eBook format on March 23rd, 2019.
Today, I finally get to sum it all up--and on my new (and very cheap, as in free) website and blog. Today, I want to tell you all about my crash and burn with tradition publishing, how I got that very fuzzy, should-have-been-super-pretty cover, and what has come about after publishing Held Captive.
By now, you know how it all began as "The Lady Pirate" and how it became Held Captive. What you don't know is how it went from 25 chapters and an epilogue sitting on my laptop to an actual, hold-it-in-your-hands book, or how I went from a twelve-year-old who didn't know jack diddly squat about publishing to a thirteen-year-old with a published novel. (Note that I didn't become a thirteen-year-old who knew about publishing. I don't. I learn more every day, y'all.)
While my cousin was editing it through the month of December/January, I spent most of my time trying to submitted a query. So you see, I wasn't a total idiot. I'd watched The Waltons and read a couple books about writing/publishing books. I knew NO ONE on God's green earth was going to accept an unsolicited manuscript. I knew that I couldn't just call up Thomas Nelson or Bethany House or Penguin Press and say, "Yo, Adrian. Wanna publish my book?" I knew that I could not afford an agent--or an editor, for that matter, which is evident by how desperately in need of editing Held Captive still is, after three-to-four rounds of editing. But I also knew that I could try. There were a couple companies that accepted queries--a letter or an email (usually written to an agent, in case you're wondering, or by an agent to a publisher)--basically stating, "Hey, check this book out. Wanna publish it?" I looked up how to write one and this is what I got:
Dear ----,
I am in search of publication for my debut novel, a historical Christian romance novel titled Held Captive.
This story takes place during the Golden Age of Piracy and tells the tale of a female pirate captain whose life changes drastically. Captain Rina Blackstone is the most notorious female pirate to ever plunder the Seven Seas and the fiercest captain to ever sail the Atlantic. But one thing she has never been able to handle well is change. When one merchant ship raid takes a wrong turn and results in her capture, Rina has to escape before all the control she’s worked so hard to obtain falters.
Xavier Bennet was commissioned seven years ago to find the Duke of Rothsford’s long lost daughter. Those seven years have passed without a trace of the woman except for the one letter he believes will lead him to her.
When Xavier’s ship, the Jessica, finally crosses paths with the Rina, it’s all he can do to hope that somehow, someway, he’ll be able to find Lady Catherina and return her to her parents. Except the pirate captain he finds certainly surpasses his expectations and brings the one thing he cannot afford: trouble.
As the pieces to this puzzle slowly come together, Rina finds herself in a situation that requires a choice that she had never thought she would need to make. Will she embrace her unknown future and her new family or will she return to her life of piracy? Even she is unsure of the answer.
This novel runs just over 74,000 words, and possess similar traits to that of Marylu Tyndall’s The Redemption and Roseanna M. White's The Lost Heiress.
I have been writing since I was five years old and have had a short story and essay published in my local newspaper.
Thank you ever so much for your time. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Grace A. Johnson
So, most people who write queries have a long list of credentials and have been published seventy-five times before. The examples I read on Writer's Digest made me want to publish the book. Seriously. Well, obviously I don't have credentials. But...I got a hit. I sent this in to the only company I knew would take a query--WhiteFire. Now, I'd struck up an acquaintance with the owner's wife, Roseanna M. White, who's an amazing writer I adore. So, I was kind of hoping that I'd curried a wee bit of favor and that I could get my book published by an author I love. I was also hoping that, you know, thirteen-year-old girls' second manuscripts could get published in general. Unless their dad owns the company...nope. I had apparently jumped headfirst into a writing career without taking all the necessary recommended steps. You know, write for a paper, freelance, enter contests, start with small short stories, yadda, yadda, yadda. My first project was going to be a trilogy and I wasn't even going to sit down and plot it.
By the seat of my pants? Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.
Well, dear Mrs. White read my email and asked for a proposal. And, yeah, I had one of those too. But you really don't want to see it, because it stinks, which is probably why I never heard from Mrs. White again, but for a confirmation of receiving my email.
Three months went by in which I waited and tried--and failed miserably--to kick-start my writing of the next book, Prisoner at Heart. Well, my uncle's girlfriend (whom he'll be marrying in six days, actually) suggested publishing through Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing.
My mother and I prayed, looked into it, researched the pros and cons of trad vs. indie/self. Finally, we both decided that KDP was the way to go. I could do all of the formatting, cover designing, marketing, publishing, price-setting, rights-owning, etc., by myself. I was the boss, el jefe, the top of the food chain, the queen, whatever you wanna call it. They would print it, e-print it (not a thing, BTW), and sell it on Amazon. I could order physical copies at a discount to sell--which I do, at my grandmother's store in our hometown.
It was absolutely NO work whatsoever to get this done, and I've even encouraged a friend to publish his own work through KDP. Now, he's got several novellas/short stories published and for sell on Amazon.
It took less than two days. I did it over the weekend. My book was out, friends and family and Facebook had been notified, and boom! I was a published author.
Now, about that cover real quick. During our three months of waiting and consideration, I was scrolling through stock photos--which I ask that, if you are under eighteen or not under adult supervision--you please not do--and trying to figure out what in the great googly moogly I was going to do about a cover. KDP has a cover designer with pictures, but I was shooting for more of a 17th century romance vibe--not a modern-day self-help conference vibe--and even the nautical pictures were not cool. Well, as I wrote, I collected pictures. (I've had to purge my pictures folders several times over the last several months just because of how many pics I've collected. It's like an addiction.) Of course, the pictures are copyrighted and only for my own inspiration, but one of them was absolutely perfect for Rina. It was roughly how I imagined her looking, and the dress the model was wearing was actually the inspiration behind a scene in the book.
"Red was her color. I wasn’t certain as to why, seeing as how red had always served to remind me of that one verse in Isaiah. But perhaps that was why, for the scarlet red that adorned her ladyship was a symbol of all her sins and all the blood on her hands. Yet just as the Lord said, her sins could be as white as snow.
If only she would believe that.
Something about the way she moved in her uncle’s grasp, swaying and stepping with a carefree grace that seemed so unlike the stern captain who stood straight as a board with authority upon the deck of her ship, caused the faint glint in her eyes to become a twinkling star in the night sky, lighting up the room and making the slight grin her lips wore transform into a blooming smile.
Her skirt swished around her legs like waves against the hull of a ship as she turned, almost tripping over Lord Dominic’s booted foot, her caramel curls bouncing around her. She really couldn’t dance, I had to admit, but whenever the music picked up a faster tempo and Lord Dominic grabbed her hand, steps didn’t matter."
Anyway...I decided that I'd try to use that photo for my cover, after many tears were shed over countless hours of web surfing. (Many tears continued to be shed during the waiting period for Prisoner at Heart. I've finally realized that the only way one can ensure a beautiful cover is to pay good money for it. *shrugs shoulders noncommittally with a half-frown*)
I Google Image Search-ed it, found that it was a photo for one of Majestic Velvets' (a costume company) dresses, then contacted the boss lady. Suzie Hemphill was actually super nice and totally cool with me using her pic as my cover. I thanked her profusely, inserted the picture into KDP's cover designer, and then this appeared:
It looks much better as a thumbnail. It took a lot of tweak-age to fit it into the box (or, technically, onto the surface of my book), and turned out extremely fuzzy. But no one's said anything but my mom, so it's good.
Once that was done--and I figured out that I was better off NOT having a chapter header than killing myself trying to stick one onto my manuscript--Held Captive was ready to make its debut.
I ordered author copies for my family and ended up ordering several hundred to sell at my nana's store, at family reunions, at church, and to donate to the library (yes, my book is in THREE local libraries!) in town and at the middle/high school.
Two months later, I'd sold a great deal, been featured in our county's two newspapers, and even spoke to the eighth grade (the grade I was in at the time) English classes at the local school I don't attend. (Have I mentioned I'm homeschooled?)
All in all, it took nine months to write, edit, and publish the book. I usually say it took nine months just to write it, but I suppose it didn't take but maybe half that long--which also applies to Prisoner at Heart, but I prefer to round my numbers than do the actual math. 😉
There were a lot of trials--and happy moments--in Held Captive's journey. I've tried to pick the most interesting and summarize my experience, but as I write I realize there was so much that went into those nine months and so many issues that spilled over into writing Prisoner at Heart. Most of all, I've learned that no matter which words seem to fit, what pops first into my mind, or how I think my story should turn out, the best thing to do is to let go and literally let God. There are so many times that I think of a certain thing I wrote or idea I came up with and can't even remember my thought process--or even if I thought it. I truly believe that the Holy Spirit had--has--a much bigger hand in my writing that even my ten typing fingers do. I can only marvel at all God has accomplished through me and pray that everyday the impact grows bigger and bigger.
I'll sign off with an excerpt from Held Captive and leave y'all to look forward to book 3, Bound and Determined!
"I wanted to jerk away, but his hold was too fast. I wanted to plant my fist in his face, but I was drowning in his touch. And I wanted to tell myself not to lean into him, to return his kiss, but the last of my common sense had fled me, and frankly, I didn’t want it back.
Xavier’s arms around me tightened, his mouth moving against mine in such a way that made me wonder if he had intended only to shut me up or if he had been planning to get his hands on me all along. Not that there was anything I was able to do about it, leastwise not when I was unwillingly enjoying kissing this devious scoundrel all too much.
My mind was spinning now, with warnings and objections and him. My heart was pounding, perhaps from fear of what the knave might truly be attempting to do or perhaps from sheer pleasure. And my hands, the utterly rebellious little limbs, were sliding up his chest to his shoulders, gripping onto him for dear life as I went overboard.
I parted my lips, deepening our kiss even as I told myself not to. Dash it all. What did it matter anyway? It was naught but a stupid kiss. I might as well make the most of it, aye?
But then, at that very moment, Xavier pulled away, his hands immediately slipping away from my waist as he stepped back.
Out of furious instinct, my hand shot out and whipped him across the jaw, yet for the opposite reason than usual.
And this time, he rubbed his jaw, his gaze colliding with anything but my own. 'I’m sorry, Lady Catherina. I truly am. And you may have all the air you want.'
I watched, arms folded over my chest, as past me he went, bounding up the remainder of the steps, either completely forgetting everything that had transpired over the last few minutes since he had swung open my bedroom door or sorely regretting it. Coward.
Not that I cared. He was likely doing the better thing, while I stood here missing the delightful taste of his lips. Ugh, but I shouldn’t have succumbed to such weakness as to actually let him kiss me...and like it. Though try as I might, I couldn’t regret doing it. I had just given that 'good' man a reason to keep his distance anyway. Perhaps ‘twas not the worst of ideas after all.
I trudged up the last of the steps, shoving away any and every last thought of Bennet and kissing from my mind."
And, yes, I just HAD to share a kiss scene! 😋
Excerpts from Held Captive: Copyright © 2019 Grace Ann Johnson
All rights reserved.
Today, I finally get to sum it all up--and on my new (and very cheap, as in free) website and blog. Today, I want to tell you all about my crash and burn with tradition publishing, how I got that very fuzzy, should-have-been-super-pretty cover, and what has come about after publishing Held Captive.
By now, you know how it all began as "The Lady Pirate" and how it became Held Captive. What you don't know is how it went from 25 chapters and an epilogue sitting on my laptop to an actual, hold-it-in-your-hands book, or how I went from a twelve-year-old who didn't know jack diddly squat about publishing to a thirteen-year-old with a published novel. (Note that I didn't become a thirteen-year-old who knew about publishing. I don't. I learn more every day, y'all.)
While my cousin was editing it through the month of December/January, I spent most of my time trying to submitted a query. So you see, I wasn't a total idiot. I'd watched The Waltons and read a couple books about writing/publishing books. I knew NO ONE on God's green earth was going to accept an unsolicited manuscript. I knew that I couldn't just call up Thomas Nelson or Bethany House or Penguin Press and say, "Yo, Adrian. Wanna publish my book?" I knew that I could not afford an agent--or an editor, for that matter, which is evident by how desperately in need of editing Held Captive still is, after three-to-four rounds of editing. But I also knew that I could try. There were a couple companies that accepted queries--a letter or an email (usually written to an agent, in case you're wondering, or by an agent to a publisher)--basically stating, "Hey, check this book out. Wanna publish it?" I looked up how to write one and this is what I got:
Dear ----,
I am in search of publication for my debut novel, a historical Christian romance novel titled Held Captive.
This story takes place during the Golden Age of Piracy and tells the tale of a female pirate captain whose life changes drastically. Captain Rina Blackstone is the most notorious female pirate to ever plunder the Seven Seas and the fiercest captain to ever sail the Atlantic. But one thing she has never been able to handle well is change. When one merchant ship raid takes a wrong turn and results in her capture, Rina has to escape before all the control she’s worked so hard to obtain falters.
Xavier Bennet was commissioned seven years ago to find the Duke of Rothsford’s long lost daughter. Those seven years have passed without a trace of the woman except for the one letter he believes will lead him to her.
When Xavier’s ship, the Jessica, finally crosses paths with the Rina, it’s all he can do to hope that somehow, someway, he’ll be able to find Lady Catherina and return her to her parents. Except the pirate captain he finds certainly surpasses his expectations and brings the one thing he cannot afford: trouble.
As the pieces to this puzzle slowly come together, Rina finds herself in a situation that requires a choice that she had never thought she would need to make. Will she embrace her unknown future and her new family or will she return to her life of piracy? Even she is unsure of the answer.
This novel runs just over 74,000 words, and possess similar traits to that of Marylu Tyndall’s The Redemption and Roseanna M. White's The Lost Heiress.
I have been writing since I was five years old and have had a short story and essay published in my local newspaper.
Thank you ever so much for your time. I hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Grace A. Johnson
So, most people who write queries have a long list of credentials and have been published seventy-five times before. The examples I read on Writer's Digest made me want to publish the book. Seriously. Well, obviously I don't have credentials. But...I got a hit. I sent this in to the only company I knew would take a query--WhiteFire. Now, I'd struck up an acquaintance with the owner's wife, Roseanna M. White, who's an amazing writer I adore. So, I was kind of hoping that I'd curried a wee bit of favor and that I could get my book published by an author I love. I was also hoping that, you know, thirteen-year-old girls' second manuscripts could get published in general. Unless their dad owns the company...nope. I had apparently jumped headfirst into a writing career without taking all the necessary recommended steps. You know, write for a paper, freelance, enter contests, start with small short stories, yadda, yadda, yadda. My first project was going to be a trilogy and I wasn't even going to sit down and plot it.
By the seat of my pants? Oh, yeah. No doubt about it.
Well, dear Mrs. White read my email and asked for a proposal. And, yeah, I had one of those too. But you really don't want to see it, because it stinks, which is probably why I never heard from Mrs. White again, but for a confirmation of receiving my email.
Three months went by in which I waited and tried--and failed miserably--to kick-start my writing of the next book, Prisoner at Heart. Well, my uncle's girlfriend (whom he'll be marrying in six days, actually) suggested publishing through Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing.
My mother and I prayed, looked into it, researched the pros and cons of trad vs. indie/self. Finally, we both decided that KDP was the way to go. I could do all of the formatting, cover designing, marketing, publishing, price-setting, rights-owning, etc., by myself. I was the boss, el jefe, the top of the food chain, the queen, whatever you wanna call it. They would print it, e-print it (not a thing, BTW), and sell it on Amazon. I could order physical copies at a discount to sell--which I do, at my grandmother's store in our hometown.
It was absolutely NO work whatsoever to get this done, and I've even encouraged a friend to publish his own work through KDP. Now, he's got several novellas/short stories published and for sell on Amazon.
It took less than two days. I did it over the weekend. My book was out, friends and family and Facebook had been notified, and boom! I was a published author.
Now, about that cover real quick. During our three months of waiting and consideration, I was scrolling through stock photos--which I ask that, if you are under eighteen or not under adult supervision--you please not do--and trying to figure out what in the great googly moogly I was going to do about a cover. KDP has a cover designer with pictures, but I was shooting for more of a 17th century romance vibe--not a modern-day self-help conference vibe--and even the nautical pictures were not cool. Well, as I wrote, I collected pictures. (I've had to purge my pictures folders several times over the last several months just because of how many pics I've collected. It's like an addiction.) Of course, the pictures are copyrighted and only for my own inspiration, but one of them was absolutely perfect for Rina. It was roughly how I imagined her looking, and the dress the model was wearing was actually the inspiration behind a scene in the book.
"Red was her color. I wasn’t certain as to why, seeing as how red had always served to remind me of that one verse in Isaiah. But perhaps that was why, for the scarlet red that adorned her ladyship was a symbol of all her sins and all the blood on her hands. Yet just as the Lord said, her sins could be as white as snow.
If only she would believe that.
Something about the way she moved in her uncle’s grasp, swaying and stepping with a carefree grace that seemed so unlike the stern captain who stood straight as a board with authority upon the deck of her ship, caused the faint glint in her eyes to become a twinkling star in the night sky, lighting up the room and making the slight grin her lips wore transform into a blooming smile.
Her skirt swished around her legs like waves against the hull of a ship as she turned, almost tripping over Lord Dominic’s booted foot, her caramel curls bouncing around her. She really couldn’t dance, I had to admit, but whenever the music picked up a faster tempo and Lord Dominic grabbed her hand, steps didn’t matter."
Anyway...I decided that I'd try to use that photo for my cover, after many tears were shed over countless hours of web surfing. (Many tears continued to be shed during the waiting period for Prisoner at Heart. I've finally realized that the only way one can ensure a beautiful cover is to pay good money for it. *shrugs shoulders noncommittally with a half-frown*)
I Google Image Search-ed it, found that it was a photo for one of Majestic Velvets' (a costume company) dresses, then contacted the boss lady. Suzie Hemphill was actually super nice and totally cool with me using her pic as my cover. I thanked her profusely, inserted the picture into KDP's cover designer, and then this appeared:
It looks much better as a thumbnail. It took a lot of tweak-age to fit it into the box (or, technically, onto the surface of my book), and turned out extremely fuzzy. But no one's said anything but my mom, so it's good.
Once that was done--and I figured out that I was better off NOT having a chapter header than killing myself trying to stick one onto my manuscript--Held Captive was ready to make its debut.
I ordered author copies for my family and ended up ordering several hundred to sell at my nana's store, at family reunions, at church, and to donate to the library (yes, my book is in THREE local libraries!) in town and at the middle/high school.
Two months later, I'd sold a great deal, been featured in our county's two newspapers, and even spoke to the eighth grade (the grade I was in at the time) English classes at the local school I don't attend. (Have I mentioned I'm homeschooled?)
All in all, it took nine months to write, edit, and publish the book. I usually say it took nine months just to write it, but I suppose it didn't take but maybe half that long--which also applies to Prisoner at Heart, but I prefer to round my numbers than do the actual math. 😉
There were a lot of trials--and happy moments--in Held Captive's journey. I've tried to pick the most interesting and summarize my experience, but as I write I realize there was so much that went into those nine months and so many issues that spilled over into writing Prisoner at Heart. Most of all, I've learned that no matter which words seem to fit, what pops first into my mind, or how I think my story should turn out, the best thing to do is to let go and literally let God. There are so many times that I think of a certain thing I wrote or idea I came up with and can't even remember my thought process--or even if I thought it. I truly believe that the Holy Spirit had--has--a much bigger hand in my writing that even my ten typing fingers do. I can only marvel at all God has accomplished through me and pray that everyday the impact grows bigger and bigger.
I'll sign off with an excerpt from Held Captive and leave y'all to look forward to book 3, Bound and Determined!
"I wanted to jerk away, but his hold was too fast. I wanted to plant my fist in his face, but I was drowning in his touch. And I wanted to tell myself not to lean into him, to return his kiss, but the last of my common sense had fled me, and frankly, I didn’t want it back.
Xavier’s arms around me tightened, his mouth moving against mine in such a way that made me wonder if he had intended only to shut me up or if he had been planning to get his hands on me all along. Not that there was anything I was able to do about it, leastwise not when I was unwillingly enjoying kissing this devious scoundrel all too much.
My mind was spinning now, with warnings and objections and him. My heart was pounding, perhaps from fear of what the knave might truly be attempting to do or perhaps from sheer pleasure. And my hands, the utterly rebellious little limbs, were sliding up his chest to his shoulders, gripping onto him for dear life as I went overboard.
I parted my lips, deepening our kiss even as I told myself not to. Dash it all. What did it matter anyway? It was naught but a stupid kiss. I might as well make the most of it, aye?
But then, at that very moment, Xavier pulled away, his hands immediately slipping away from my waist as he stepped back.
Out of furious instinct, my hand shot out and whipped him across the jaw, yet for the opposite reason than usual.
And this time, he rubbed his jaw, his gaze colliding with anything but my own. 'I’m sorry, Lady Catherina. I truly am. And you may have all the air you want.'
I watched, arms folded over my chest, as past me he went, bounding up the remainder of the steps, either completely forgetting everything that had transpired over the last few minutes since he had swung open my bedroom door or sorely regretting it. Coward.
Not that I cared. He was likely doing the better thing, while I stood here missing the delightful taste of his lips. Ugh, but I shouldn’t have succumbed to such weakness as to actually let him kiss me...and like it. Though try as I might, I couldn’t regret doing it. I had just given that 'good' man a reason to keep his distance anyway. Perhaps ‘twas not the worst of ideas after all.
I trudged up the last of the steps, shoving away any and every last thought of Bennet and kissing from my mind."
And, yes, I just HAD to share a kiss scene! 😋
Excerpts from Held Captive: Copyright © 2019 Grace Ann Johnson
All rights reserved.
August 1, 2020
Guess What?!
I just got a WEBSITE!!!!!!!
So, in a spur of the moment decision (although I'd been noncommittally considering it for a year or two), I signed up for Wix and designed my very own website!
Of course, I'm a cheapskate, so I picked the free site and, even though it looks AMAZING, the URL is certainly not.
Check me out here!
Tomorrow, my next blog post will be coming from my new blog on my website!!! Yippee!
So, in a spur of the moment decision (although I'd been noncommittally considering it for a year or two), I signed up for Wix and designed my very own website!
Of course, I'm a cheapskate, so I picked the free site and, even though it looks AMAZING, the URL is certainly not.
Check me out here!
Tomorrow, my next blog post will be coming from my new blog on my website!!! Yippee!
