Cate Masters's Blog, page 66

Dead to Rights is an NOR Top Pick!

Wow, what a great way to cap off the blog tour! Night Owl Reviews rated Dead to Rights a Top Pick!

Here's part of what the reviewer said:

Tess Munro is in way, way over her pretty head. After waking up in an institution in a different body, with no memory as to who she is or what has happened, and no identification, and an unexplainable urge to attend a mysterious appointment, Tess knows she must figure out what on Earth is going on. But that is much easier said than done.

Dead to Rights is a fantastically fun novel that is instantly engaging. The story covers all kinds of things, from love to self worth to things better left to angels and demons. Readers everywhere will thoroughly enjoy this novel as much as I did.

The full review is here. Thanks so much, Hitherandthee! I truly appreciate any reviewer taking the time to read my stories, but it's especially gratifying when the reviewer loves the story as much as I loved writing it.

I’d love for you to check out the blurb, excerpt, view the book video, Casting Call here 

And you can buy it from Decadent Publishing here.  :) [image error]

Last stop on the tour!

Today I'm at Reader Girls, sharing a bit more about Dead to Rights, my dark paranormal. It's the last stop on the blog tour! And wow, the last day of May. How did that happen?

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Final stops on the blog tour

May is winding down, and so is the blog tour for Dead to Rights, my dark paranormal novel. I'm so grateful to Decadent Publishing for arranging this tour! They're a really great publisher, always enthusiastic and supportive to their authors.

Today I'm at the wonderful Jessica E. Subject's Mark of the Stars blog for an interview. Hope you'll pop over and say hi. [image error]

Only 10 years in the making

I finally did it. I released Orion Rising on Amazon. I won't say this is necessarily the book of my heart, but I love it so much. I wrote it ten years (or more) ago, and literally spent years researching - the mythology of constellations, astronomy, the Sixties through the 90s (yes, I lived through those decades but didn't always pay attention!)

I'd subbed this to a few literary agents years ago, too, and had some interest but no real takers. I finally decided to take advantage of the ability to self-publish, and put it out there myself.

I'm so grateful to my wonderful niece, Meg Eubank, for allowing me to use that amazing photo for the cover. Love ya, Meg!

This 94k novel is a bit different in that it's told through three points of view of three siblings as they struggle with the death of their youngest brother.

So, while I don't expect it to take the literary world by storm, I do hope readers will love it as much as I do.

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Orion Rising - literary family saga

Orion Rising
Available on Amazon
Literary novel

To the Byrne children, constellations were more than stick figures in the night sky. At their father’s telling, their myths became tales of adventure and romance for Percy, Allie, Mary and Aurie, whose names seem to imbue celestial royalty upon them. When the Orion River floods in 1965, the Byrne children are drawn to it like sailors to a siren’s call. After Aurie disappears in the river, their names seem more like a curse. Though self-imposed, the curse follows them through three decades before each learns the key to breaking it – love, and forgiveness. But sometimes the hardest person to forgive is yourself.



Reviews
(coming soon)

ExcerptI lifted my head and flipped my long dark hair over my shoulder. “So we’re going to the movies?”
“No, I said that so your parents wouldn’t get nosy.”
“But what if they ask? I’m not going to lie.”
“You’re such a goody goody,” Mark teased.
“I am not. I don’t like to lie because it always turns into a big mess, and gets ten times bigger than the original lie. It’s not being a goody goody, it’s—”
“Mary, Mary. Just tell them,” he said, pulling me beside him as he sat in the crook of my favorite tree where he had been sitting when I first truly met him, “tell them I am madly in love with you.” He nuzzled his face into my hair. “And I wanted to be alone with you tonight.”
The sun slipped downward, and I sighed an exaggerated sigh. “Madly in love with me, huh?”
“It’s true,” he said softly.
“Then play me something on your guitar.”
Mark frowned, but I nudged him. “Come on, play me something. Sweep me off my feet.”
“Is that what it will take? Okay then.” As he lifted his guitar away from the tree where he’d leaned it and began to tune the strings, my heart welled with a fullness I hadn’t remembered for a long time. His fingers slid down the metal strings, playing a beautiful tune I couldn’t quite place.
“Hey, you’ve been practicing. You sound really good.”
“Nahh. I need lessons. Can’t afford it though.”
He continued to play, and I leaned back into the tree’s large roots.
“God, I love it here.” The last rays of the sun peeked above the horizon, echoing in the river’s rippled surface. “I think I’d live here if I could.”
He leaned his elbows on his guitar. “Yup, sure is nice here. Look at that sky. Glowing all pink and grey, like the underside of a seashell, luminescent mother of pearl, arching over the river.” He leaned beside me. The colors of the sunset swirled in his sunglasses, and the wide grin on his face made me smile.
“I wish I had a camera,” I said. “I’d love a picture of you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you were some Peter Max poster, a kaleidoscope of colors and smiles.” I laughed and kissed him lightly.
“And hearts,” he added, and put his hand inside his shirt over his heart. “Look – see what you’ve done to it? Now it’s going wild.” His hand beneath the tee shirt thumped quickly, and I laughed.
“I’m serious! It won’t stop!” He rolled over onto the grass, feigning illness.
I fell on top of him and tickled. “Good. Don’t try to stop it.”
We wrestled, giggling, until Mark rolled me underneath him. His eyes sparkled in the half light of dusk, and I wanted to kiss him and never stop.
“Mary,” he whispered.
“What?”
He smoothed the hair from my forehead, and I ran a finger across his eyebrow.
“Let’s stay here all night.”
“All night?”
“Yeah, just you and me. I could run home for my sleeping bag…”
“No,” I whispered. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”
“But I have to be with you.”
“You are with me.”
“I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me.” He sounded so desperate I couldn’t respond. We stared at each other for a moment, and I knew he waited for a different answer.
“Mark…”
“Mary, don’t say no. Every night I go home and I lie in my bed but I can’t sleep because I ache so much from missing you.”
“Oh Mark…”
“Please please don’t say no,” he said in a hush, leaning his forehead on mine.
I stroked his hair, thinking how beautiful he looked, how I wished I could live in this moment forever. I kissed him tenderly, but he responded with urgency, and I struggled to keep his hands from wandering even more than usual. He kissed my neck, my ear, whispering all the while, urging me, begging me. My thoughts ran together in a jumble – I wanted to tell him no, stop, I wasn’t ready for any of this. I thought of how embarrassing it would be if someone were to walk by and discover us. I thought of my mother and father, how happy they seemed tonight; I pictured them waltzing in the living room. I heard my father telling tales, a flood of all the romances of the gods and goddesses which peopled his incredible tales of the constellations. Mark’s beautiful green eyes and dark hair could have easily transformed him into a young god or prince, a son of Venus, as Cupid was. Cupid, the God of Love, who fell hopelessly in love with Psyche, the beautiful but foolish maiden. The love between Cupid and Psyche was the most powerful of all because it was the union of heart and soul – and I felt so close, so connected to Mark. Our love was real.
He pulled away to look me in the eye. “Mary, you know I love you. I love you so much. Please let me.” His hand moved inside my t-shirt, unhooking my bra. I felt as if I were standing high above, as on a diving board, when his fingers lightly washed over my breasts, his breath staccato as his fingers traced my ribcage and made their way downward.
“I really do love you, Mary. I swear it by the River Styx. Please let me please let me please let me…” His whispers came at me in a steady stream, his breath like a zephyr.  I felt as though I were falling from that height slowly, dizzyingly, landing, finally, in the warm rush of the waters.
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Register today for Supernatural Saturday

Don't miss out on this fun event! On June 16, the Mechanicsburg Mystery Book Shop will host Supernatural Saturday at the Holly Inn in Mt. Holly Springs. Don't miss your chance to attend these sessions:
11:00 a.m. - Ghosts of Gettysburg                    Mark Nesbitt
1:00 p.m. - Werewolves, Zombies, Apparitions and The Gates of Hell                   George Appelt, Jennifer Harlow, Larry Kerr, Cate Masters
                   Moderated by Dennis Royer
2:00 p.m. - Mysterious Pennsylvania - Patty Wilson
3:00 p.m. - The Connection Between Shadow People, ETs and Djinn                  Rosemary Ellen Guilley 
4:00 p.m. - Book signings
It costs only $20 per person to attend this one-day conference, which includes a buffet lunch. An incredible bargain!
For more information, contact Mechanicsburg Mystery Bookshop at: 717/795-7470or email mysterybooks@comcast.net
or stop in at:
6 Clouser Road
Mechanicsburg, PA 17055 
Download the form and register today! [image error]

SSS: Jeb's in a pickle

Hey Sixers! Hope you're having a fantastic Memorial Day weekend for those in the States, and for all others, a fantastic weekend. :)

Here's another peek at my Western historical, A Midwest Summer Night's Dream. In this scene, Jeb has agreed to hire on as Winona's guide to California - if she can find a suitable horse. Now he's wishing he hadn't.


Curses flew through Jeb’s head all day, but he cut them off before they reached his tongue. Stubborn woman, she’d cornered him like a fox in a hen house. Her chances were slim, but not impossible.
The mere thought of riding beside her, wind rifling through her hair…oh, what a pickle. He sure could use the cash, but the strain of avoiding her might do him in. He’d have to ride upwind so as not to catch her lilac scent, or the constant hard-on hitting the saddle might kill him.
Aw, that pic reminds me of the horse we used to own. I miss him. And that cowboy's pretty easy on the eyes, too! Too bad we didn't have guys like him hanging around our barn, ha!

Don't forget to check out the amazing array of authors at Six Sentence Sunday. Have a great week!

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Ripped from the headlines

Some events and news stories intrigue me so much, I incorporate them into stories. Find out how on the next tour stop at You Gotta Read.


And on Saturday, I'm part of the Writers' Roundtable at Mariposa Cruz's blog.


And this weekend's the Horror Blurb Fest at TBR! Don't miss it!

A launch to remember

Last night's book launch for A Community of Writers short story anthology was an incredible success. The Fredriksen library has the most wonderful supporters! So many people came out to hear the readings, attend the signing and most importantly, buy the anthology that will help keep this program running - for free. When I attended it years ago, that was such a fantastic benefit. Instructor Ann Elia Stewart is fun and engaging, not to mention an experienced and incredible writer herself. So to see that many attendees at the book launch was really heartwarming.

Even more heartwarming was the guest of honor - Mr. Craumer himself. Below is a photo of him talking about how he wanted to honor his wife, and decided to fund the writer workshops. His wife Natalie read a book a day for most of her life. Amazing!


Below are a few pics of the authors who gave readings last night. First up is Rayne Debski.


Here's Duffy Batzer, who read an excerpt from her humorous piece. "Oops, Said God."


Margaret DeAngelis, below, read part of her story, "Take Care"


Ann gave Mr. Craumer a copy of the anthology autographed by all the attending authors.



The party then moved downstairs, where Ann kicked it off with a champagne toast.



After that - pandemonium. I wanted to snap some more pics of the other authors, but so many people wanted their books signed, it was literally nonstop.

It was so great to see Ann again, and a few of the writers I attended the workshop with. If it hadn't been for Ann's workshop, I wouldn't have connected with my crit partners. We've kept our little group going ever since, and they have been my safety net as well as crit group. I love 'em!

If you're interested in getting a copy, I'd suggest buying directly from Sunbury Press to ensure that the money goes back to the Cleve Fredricksen library. I notice some resellers already have some new and "used" copies for sale on Amazon (doesn't that just kill you? It does me!), but please don't buy from them. Support this wonderful writing program and get yours right from Sunbury Press.

Thanks!

Launch party tonight!

Come to the Cleve J. Fredricksen Library at 100 North 19th Street in Camp Hill tonight for the launch of A Community of Writers: A Collection of Short Stories.

The party starts at 7:00 p.m. Many of the contributing authors will be on hand (including me), plus readings and a champagne toast! A party not to be missed. :)

All proceeds from sales of this collection will benefit the Cleve J. Fredericksen Library in Camp Hill, Pa., which sponsored the Natalie J. Craumer Writers Workshops I attended with a really great group of authors. The library offered the workshops at no charge, thanks to the support of husband of the late Natalie J. Craumer, who instituted the workshops to honor his wife's memory.


I'm happy to give back to the workshop by contributing two stories. I hope the anthology hits the bestseller lists to keep this great program going!