T.L. Gray's Blog, page 58

True Friends

Have you ever wondered if the people in our lives appeared because we chose them or they chose us, or were our connections beyond us both?
I’ve had a rough year so far.  Change is always difficult, but not necessarily bad.  The biggest change has been the people in my life, especially those who have come into it recently.  There are a few who have really impacted me to a great degree.
My girlfriends:  A girl cannot have too many girlfriends, but she certainly can have the wrong ones.  For many years I had people tell me, almost on a daily or weekly basis they loved me, cared for me, and for my best interests.  Yet, I discovered most of it was merely lip service.  When I made a decisive change in my life, though they spoke concern with their lips, I never saw them.  I was ultimately left to myself, and so I dealt with my pain, uncertainty, and fear… alone.  In my season of doubt I never reached out to them, but with all their declared love, they never reached out to me.
Since then, without looking, searching, or expecting friends, I’ve somehow managed to surround myself with some of the most loving, supportive, and beautiful women I’ve ever met in my life.  I never really got along well with women, but now I don’t how I’d ever get along without them.  There’s a certain support only a woman can get from a girlfriend; an understanding that only women who’ve been through similar situations can lend to one another.
I love my girlfriends.  I love hanging out with them, listening to them, laughing with them, crying with them, but most of all… just having the freedom to be me; all of me.  These new friends love me just as I am and don’t expect me to be perfect.  On the contrary …they expect me to mess up, be wrong, to not understand, and yet they still love me.  If they haven’t heard from me in a few days, they’re at my door.  They push me, encourage me, make fun of me, but they don’t judge me or cast unreasonable expectations onto my shoulders. 
Then there are a few special friends, people who’ve come into my life who push me, challenge me, yet fulfill parts of me that have been long neglected and most often forgotten, even my me.  They don’t talk of stirring my soul, they actually do it.  They don’t talk of inspiration, being with them I’ve become inspired.  They don’t talk of having dreams; they stir my dreams within me, as I hope I stir within them.  They give to me, as I give to them.  I love them dearly.
There are a lot of rules in this world, a lot of demands on what are right and wrong, acceptable, unacceptable, moral or immoral … but I’m learning the true meaning of what it is to love one another.  I’ve busted down the walls of my boxes, and in doing so, sometimes feel lost… but gloriously alive.  I’m being reborn into someone I didn’t expect, but I like her.
Did I choose these friends, or have they chosen me?  I don’t know.  What I do know …I love them dearly and can’t imagine life without them.  These are true friends.  Life is scary.  Living is scary. But having a great support system, a few good friends, makes it a little less scary and a lot less lonely.  My greatest hope is that you, reader, have or find the same for your own life.
Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

Having Courage

Facing fears is something I know a little something about.  I’ve been doing this my whole life. We all have in some way. Sometimes it seems this is all I do, because I’m afraid of a lot of things.  But, I refuse to allow my fear to paralyze me. 
In the midst of all these changes, I face a lot of uncertainty.  Everything that used to bring a little security, a little ‘normality’, is gone and I realize nothing is secure and no one, or no family, is normal.  My life …is what I make it. I’m so tired of trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, because I can’t.  I fail every day.  I disappoint someone in some way.  The simple truth is …the only person I need to please - is me. 
I used to believe I had to strive to be the perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect Christian, the perfect boss, the perfect employee, the perfect neighbor, the perfect friend, the perfect writer, etc. I failed .  I’m not perfect in any of these areas.  In fact, I’ve botched them all, miserably. 
I still find myself striving for perfection, and this effort is where most my fears originate.  But, today …today I strive to be happy being me.  I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I don’t know if I’ll complete all my tasks, fulfill all expectations, or find a little security, but I face my fears regardless.  I have no other option, because the only other thing to do is give into those fears, and that I can’t do.
 What about you?  Have you found the courage to face the things that scare you most? I hope so.
Till next time, ~T.L. Gray

Goals - Getting Back on Track

Life gets really hectic sometimes, and in the chaos, knocks us off our goals.  At least it does for those of us who are goals oriented.  That would include me.  I like have a vision in front of me, a destination, a finish line.  It helps keep me on track.  For the past six months, I’ve been somewhat lost, aimlessly wandering and the cost is beginning to climb, mostly when it comes to the things I want to achieve in this life. 
A dear writer friend of mine has reminded me the importance of setting goals, sharpening focus and taking back control of my life.  That’s essentially what it boils down to; having goals gives you control of the circumstances in your life, instead of letting the circumstances control you.  I drifted too long in an endless sea without a rudder.  Now that I’ve got one, it’s time I made my way back to land. 
For those of you have stuck around for these past six months, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  You’re going to see a huge difference in the coming posts and all I can say at this point is that it excites me.  I hope I can inspire you to set your own goals.  Let’s take this journey together. 
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Truth

Truth.
It’s such a simple term, but one of the hardest things to face.  We glaze over the word as if we had mastery over it, yet we don’t really even grasp it.  Many of us deceive ourselves into thinking we walk in its essence, often in a cloak of self-righteousness.
I’ve been learning a lot of lessons about truth this year.  Many of these are hard truths about me.  Sometimes I’m proud of what I discover, other times make me cringe and I drop my head in shame. But, I can’t make an informed decision unless I know and face the truth.
We walk around in this world and profess hopes and dreams as truths, and we judge our fellow humans with the same measure of truth we apply to ourselves.  But what is that measure?  Is it the real truth?  Do we really look at ourselves honestly and question our motives, our actions, and our words?
How often have we mistaken an others' intentions, actions or motives because we judged them with our own set of truths? 
We all judge and condemn each other – that is the truth.  We fight amongst ourselves believing WE hold the real TRUTH and those in opposition are wrong.  All of us.   My heart breaks a little more every day when I witness how we treat each other in this world.  I’m not a bleeding heart, but my heart has been battered, bruised, abused, neglected, hated, judged, rejected, broken and discarded all my life, that is the truth.  Yet, I still cling to a hope. 
Truth.  There really is only one and we only have two choices… seek it out or not.  Knowing the truth doesn’t answer all your problems, but it will at least give us a more accurate picture so we can at least take appropriate actions. 
Today, take a moment… and ask yourself, “What is the truth?”
Till next time, ~T.L. Gray

Writer Spotlight - Featuring Jeff Suwak

Every once in a while I come across a new talent that makes me stop and consider my self, my writing style, and my writing goals.  Many in the business of writing, unfortunately, see fellow writers as competition.  While that is a partial truth, most view competition as an opposing force or something to overcome.  I see it as a motivator, inspiration and a fulcrum lever to help me lift my dreams off the ground.

I'm in a valley at the moment.  Last year, I released three books and went on a whirlwind book tour and then in January fell into exhaustion and a much needed rest.  For the past four months, I've... drifted.  I've allowed myself to become distracted, but not deterred.  I've been busy ...learning new writing styles and dabbling in short stories, erotica and poetry.

During my down time, I've taken a breath and looked around me. I can now enjoy the beauty and wonder of the talented writers in my life.  I've come across many new writers these past four months... and not being "on" (being fully in marketing mode), I've been able to enjoy the fruit of their gifts, and it's amazing.  However, I've also been resting, but it's time to go back to work.

Over the next couple of months, as I immerse myself back into the foray of what is writing/publishing/marketing/etc, I will feature some of these new writers I've become blessed to know... and today, I start with writer Jeff Suwak.

By day, Jeff is a technical writer for the U.S. Geological Survey in Tacoma, WA, but by passion,  he is a very talented, very determined and very dedicated writer. One of his favorite literary influences is Cormac McCarthy.  As a former Army Ranger, Jeff is no stranger to discipline when it comes to his work, and it's very evident in every piece of his writing I've read.

Here are some current and upcoming publications of Mr. Suwak.  Please check them out and leave a comment when you can.  Upcoming writers need all the encouragement and support we can give them in this literary journey. I'm very proud to know Jeff Suwak, and to be able to call him my friend.

The Ride - http://www.efictionmag.com/ehorror/ - a horror short story to be published in eFiction Magazine - eHorror in June 2013.

Night Terrors - http://www.innersins.com/innersins_110.htm - a horror short story published in Inner Sins Magazine - issue #9 - May 2013.

The Big Show - https://sites.google.com/site/thespeculativeedge/home - a science fiction short story published in the Speculative Edge Magazine issue #8 - April 2013

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray
www.tlgray.net

Meeting the Black - Tom Piccirilli Review

Meeting the Black – Tom PiccirilliReview by T.L. Gray - as published in West Georgia Living Magazine - May/June 2013 Edition



Author: Tom PiccirilliPublisher: Crossroad Press & Macabre Ink Digital; Crossroad Press First Digital editionRelease Date: November 16, 2012Pages/Genre: 17/Memoir


Bio: Tom Piccirilli is an American novelist and short story writer. He has sold over 150 stories in the mystery, thriller, horror, erotica, and science fiction fields. Piccirilli is a two-time winner of the International Thriller Writers Award for "Best Paperback Original" (2008, 2010). He is a four-time winner of the Bram Stoker Award. He was also a finalist for the 2009 Edgar Allan Poe Award given by the Mystery Writers of America, a final nominee for the Fantasy Award, and he won the first Bram Stoker Award given in the category of "Best Poetry Collection".



Book Description:Publication Date: November 16, 2012 Meeting the Black

Meeting the Black is a powerful and emotional piece written by Tom Piccirilli describing what he was going through, both mentally and physically, before and after his recent operation. 100% of the sales amounts of this and his other Crossroad Press titles, both eBook and audiobook, will continue to go to Tom to assist with his medical bills associated with his cancer treatment.




Review:
Wow! I'm familiar with musings, having written a few, and this one was honest, raw and beautiful. My eyes are filled, not with tears of sadness, but of hope.There’s a lot to be said for a great opening line.  Some of the greatest works in literature have memorable starts.  “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.  “Call me Ishmael,” Moby Dick by Herman Melville.  Now I have another opening line that captured my attention.  “Noir truth,” Meeting the Black by Tom Piccirilli.  My French may be rusty, but I know my colors very well, and instantly my mind interpreted the opening line of this memoir to say ‘black truth’.  This made me instantly go to a dark place and wonder what could possibly be so black, void, or dark.  Instantly a mood was set and Piccirilli was faithful to deliver.  The second line proved to be as powerful as the first, straight to the point, no holds bar.  “What I know:  I’ve got a tumor in my head that’s halfway between the size of a golf-ball and a tennis-ball, according to the neurosurgeon.” Wow.  I can’t even imagine what this author is going through, but I’m definitely hooked to find out.  From his presence in the literary world, it seems Mr. Piccirilli has so far enjoyed a very successful writing career, having published over twenty-two (22) novels since 1990, two (2) series, four (4) novellas, more than thirty (30) anthologies, two (2) non-fiction works, and four (4) time winner of the Bram Stroker Award, and two (2) time winner of the International Thriller Writer’s Award, literally a writer’s dream come true.  Some in this field would say he was a very lucky man, indeed.  But in life, tragedy doesn’t look at a writing resume or care how much success someone might enjoy.Being a fellow author, his story touches my heart, and many times he echoed some of my own fears in this memoir.  One of the most touching paragraphs states:  “What I know:  Things aren’t right.  I’m not myself.  I’m often in a fog lately.  I can’t see, I can’t think clearly, I haven’t been writing much.  And there it is.  When everything else runs out on me, I can always count on the writing.  It’s always there.  And now, it’s slipping through my fingers, too.  Jesus, not that, take the rest of it, but not that.  What if I can’t write? I’m not me.  I’m not the person I’m supposed to be.”  Many, many times these are the very same words that I mutter in the middle of my fear.  So, I instantly related to Mr. Piccirilli, and he stole my heart.As his story progresses, Mr. Piccirilli talks about the love between him and his brother, the loss of a mother, father and step father to cancer, and we begin to see a picture of man who has in one way or another fought against cancer his whole life.  Now, it is his life he must battle this horrible disease.I can’t imagine the fear and the struggle this author must go through on a daily basis, but one of the best illustrations of his fight for hope is when he was given the advice to speak to his cells, to encourage them to fight, because he had not the strength to do it on his own.  “What I really want to say to my cells:  ‘Look, blame me if you want, okay.  I did you wrong.  I ate bad shit. I smoked cigars for a while.  I’ve never been trim and fit.  Hold the grudge, but don’t give up the good fight now.  We’re, what, halfway through the race? Come on, you can hold on for longer than that, can’t you?  Besides, who are you really hurting, huh? Me? You’re gonna go in the ground with me, f**kers.  Lars is going to yank you out of my brain and throw you on the floor.  Cells, get in line, get back into formation, hup one, two, all that, start doing your jobs again.  Besides, it’s all just energy, there are no coincidences.”After a successful surgery and a trip to the lab, Mr. Piccirilli receives the bad news; Noir truth …his tumor is cancerous.  Anytime anyone is faced with such a stark, bold, and life changing truth, one of the stages of grief, even though still living, is the self blame, self analysis and self reflection.  My heart breaks as this talented author goes through this analysis and shares his vulnerable thoughts with us: “Consciously or unconsciously, for the price of a dark dream, you have brought about your own doom.  I didn’t go after the wrong woman, I didn’t mouth off to a bad cop, I didn’t push a  gun into a the ribs of the mob boss, I didn’t shove the old lady down the stairs in her wheelchair.  I’m a lousy noir character.”Facing a terminal illness changes priorities.  This writer of mostly horror and thrillers transforms into a love guru, telling everyone with every chance he gets how much he loves and appreciates them as he ponders his own mortality.  He comes to another phase in his journey where his thoughts turn deep in his understanding of noir truths.  There are so many quotes that have such a deep meaning that I want to write them all down separately and place throughout my house to remind me of them daily.  Words of noir truth such as: “You can lose the fight, but you have to lose it fairly.  You can’t cheat in the last reel.  You take it on the chin or in the gut or in the back of the head, but you stand tall doing it.  No blinking, no last minute wincing.  You play your string out to the end.”  We all hold onto hope when we face tragedy.  We try to look for the positive amongst the terrible things that come into our lives.  I wept when I read the final passage in this short memoir, where Mr. Piccirilli is told that his cancer is aggressive and terminal, as I’m sure some of you will as well.  So, I leave you with his words, because he says them better than I ever could. “Noir truth: I’ll be fighting it for the rest of my life and it’ll probably do me in one of these days.  I keep picturing a feathery, fluffy, black growth trying to take over the pure, snowy, gleeful thoughts already there.  The pure-driven snow personality is me.  The black rot, what is it? The death wish? My noir heart?“Cells?”“Yo!”“We still rockin’?”“A-OK, babe.”“You keep doing your thing and I’ll keep doing mine.”“Let’s call it a plan of action.”“Right on.”So what’s left?  Skull bones, titanium steel plates, fruiting bodies of toadstools, and a million more stories?  What I know:  I’m scared and will always be scared.  I’m still here among the living.  I fight because when you get down to it, you have no choice.  You suck air, you focus will, you dream, you fight past your demons and shadows and enemy cells.  Thanks to all of you –“Mr. Piccirilli continues to fight his cancer, and my heart and prayers go with him and his family.  Crossroads Press, the publisher of Mr. Piccirilli’s work, has designated all proceeds, funds and sales for any and all titles, including this memoir, directly to the him and his family in an effort to help him in his fight against cancer. I’m not only a huge fan of this author’s work, but I’m now a huge admirer of his heart. This is the hardest review I’ve had to give to date, but it’s also the one I believe in most.  So, if you get a chance, please pick up one of Tom Piccirilli’s titles today, send him a note of encouragement on his Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/tompiccirilli) page, or say a prayer for him and his family.  Latest update:  March 29, 2013: “Hello everyone, this is Michelle. Tom had his MRI on Monday this week and today we had appointments at two different doctor's offices and he had blood test done. His MRI came back clean with no sign of cancer. This is the forth MRI in a row since his surgery and radiation that has come back clean. Tom's oncologist told us that he is now in REMISSION.”. 
Till next time,~T.L. Gray

Book Festival - April 13, 2013

The Friends of the Library, an organization set up and run by volunteers, will host its first book festival on Saturday, April 13, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. at the Neva Lomason Memorial Library, located at 710 Rome St. in Carrollton. Please mark it on your calendar to plan ahead and to come because it will be a day of literary fun and it’s free.

There are 35 authors participating. Some are local and others have participated in the Decatur Book Festival previously. Joshilyn Jackson is our nationally known, featured author and will be here to speak and to sign her books.

The panels will take place in the Edith Foster Room at Neva Lomason. Five authors, categorized by genre, will be on a panel and discuss their book during an hour. Then there will be a short time for questions and answers.

After the authors finish speaking, you can follow them to tables arranged outside the Cultural Arts Room at the library, where you can purchase their books and they will answer your questions, autograph your book and take a picture with you if you are interested. So be sure to charge your camera.

We will have programs for you at the door. Mary Jane Davis, the Friends of the Library president, will greet you and hand you a program as well. Off to the side, we will be having a book bag raffle. You can buy one ticket for $1 or six tickets for $5. Roni Tewksbury, the system director will draw for the bags at 4:30. If you are not present, you will be called to come and pick up your winnings. These bags are made up of the books that the 35 authors have written. Part of their fee to join the festival was to donate two books. One goes to the permanent library collection and the other was to be raffled off. Each bag averages about five books.

There will also be the opportunity to join Friends of the Library. You decide the level of your monetary commitment and by joining at the festival, you are a member from April through August of the following year. This deal has never been offered before, so be sure that you take advantage of the longer membership time.

So come early and get a fantastic parking space and plan to stay all day. We will make lunch available for you to purchase between 11:30 a.m. and 2:30 p.m. and will have Chick-fil-A sandwiches and ice cold drinks. Simply Cupcakes will also be there.That way you won’t have to move your car at all and your great parking spot is safe.

If you are in a book club and are coming, e-mail me at anitawbuice@gmail.com and I’ll have a name tag waiting for you at the front door. We want everyone to come and bring a friend. All 35 authors will be selling their books in the Cultural Arts Room of the Neva Lomason all day long.

The following is a list of authors that will be at the book festival. They are listed in alphabetical order and they are not in the order that they will be speaking.

1. Jonathan Chad Akin — Now Entering Obscurity (contemporary fiction)

2. John Bell — Shoeless Summer (sports)

3. Beverly Bruemmer — To Market, To Market in the Big Red Truck (children’s)

4. Jody Butler — Jekyll Journey (travel)

5. James Dalton Byrd — Bang (poetry)

6. Becky Carlisle — 52 Hats, A Memoir (Christian Memoir)

7. Sandy Weaver Carman — The Original MBA: Succeed in Business Using Mom’s Best Advice (Business motivational)

8. DJCole & RD Davis — Games, Lies and Deceit (urban fiction)

9. Robert C. Covel — String Theory (poetry)

10. Cindy Crane — Roswell Redemption (historical fiction)

11. J.P. Cunningham — The Emerald Amulet; Somerset A Novel (literary)

12. Mary Cunningham — Cynthia’s Attic: The Missing Lockett (the series) tweens

13. Timberline Davis — 13 (memoir)

14. Lynn Garson — Southern Vapors (memoir)

15. Anju Gattani — Duty and Desire (contemporary fiction)

16. T. L. Gray — The Blood of Cain Book 1 and 2; Milledgeville Misfits — (fantasy)

17. Eleanor Hoomes — Driving With My Blinker On — (poetry)

18. Christine Hornback — Caleb’s Cereal (juvenile fiction)

19. Beverly S. James — Soul Sister, The Snared Bird; Soul Sisters Save the World! (young adult/middle grades)

20. Jay Michael Jones — Flight of the Armada — (science fiction Romance)

21. Bobbi Kornblit — Shelter From the Texas Heat — (women’s fiction)

22. Michelle Lane — Lili — (YA fiction)

23. Tracy Milanese — Behavior Charts and Beyond — (parent help)

24. Shelly Murphy — Compost Happens — (memoir, humorous/gardening)

25. Cheryl Pollard — Fording — (historical fiction)

26. Bryan Pollard — Stranger in the White House — (mystery)

27. Wanda J. R. Prowell — Unresolved; School Readiness K-12 (family educational)

28. Marilyn Robinson — Ulysses Byas (memoir)

29. Jeffrey Spieles — In Sherman’s Path; In Sherman’s Path Teacher’s Guide (historical fiction)

30. Morgan Summerfield — Blood and Magnolias — (fiction/romance-southern gothic)

31. Theresa Tidwell- Miranda (Christian fiction)

32. Chuck Wanager — Jackson Flatts — (coming of age)

33. Charlotte Vititoe — The Adventures of a Female Paperboy; Three Stories of Ethan

34. Thomas Young — Coming Out of Winter (southern fiction)

35. Joshilyn Jackson — Gods in Alabama; Backseat Saints; and lots more!


Read more:Times-Georgian - 35 authors to participate in book festival

The Greeting of Equinox

I once fell in love with a tree. I celebrated its beauty, dancing among the brilliant colors of gold, green, yellow and red of its leaves, when the first snowflake fell. I took no note of the gathering gray clouds. Though I shivered, I ignored the cold. Dancing made my heart beat faster, adrenaline rush through my veins, and endorphins brought a sense of euphoria; a semblance of happiness. A snowflake landed on my lashes, melted from my body heat and ran down my cheek; the first of many tears to follow.
The air grew frigid, the skies darkened, and I watched as the leaves fell from my beautiful tree, the object of my desire, the tall glorious symbol of my admiration. Helpless to stop the winter storm, I became lost in despair, numb because the pain overwhelmed me, and frozen in fear as a statue. Before the last of my body crystallized into ice, I watched the last leaf fall, flutter through the air as if carefree, and come to rest on the cold, hard ground. As it touched the earth, my heart stopped beating as I entered winter.
The snow fell and its accumulation slowly buried me with my gaze locked onto my tree, for it no longer bore any fruit. Surrounding it, stood other lifeless, fruitless, leafless trees, and my tree reveled in their company. Its bony limbs served as a constant reminder of the loss of its glorious leaves. Though I knew my tree, it no longer resembled the beauty it once exuded. My mind’s eye remembered, and a small hope remained for my tree to return to me. But as the fierce winter winds blew, my fractured heart became frozen; broken.
Believing the winter would never end, I finally forced my eyelids closed and the vision of my tree disappeared with one last icicled tear. I tuned out all feeling, all sound, all senses, and embraced the darkness; I died inside.~A warm wind blew, bringing a soft musical note with it, disturbing my cold, silent grave. My hearing followed the sound, though distant, muffled, and strange. Desolation sharpened my senses, and a desperate need to hear again filled me. Too afraid to open my eyes and gaze upon my tree, I feared the notes came from it. But it did not, they resounded all around me. Some came from the left, some from the right, many from behind, their notes soft, beautiful and full of hope.
I tried to shut them out, but they kept playing their song, one after another, sometimes blended together and sometimes all at once. I felt the ice that covered me begin to crackle and split, and I heard the constant drip, drip, drip below me, adding tempo to the melody. Then I silently screamed in pain as my heart shuddered and let out the first beat.
I felt the shards of ice fall away from my eyes. As fear rushed through me, I opened my statue lids. There stood my tree, its bare limbs full of new buds, ready to bloom, surrounded by dozens of others ready to dance before its beauty. My heart skipped a beat at the possibility of greatness my tree could be, but only one beat. For no longer could I call it my tree.
Something else grabbed my attention – a song, a familiar sound, a beautiful melody. My eyes unfocused on the tree and with great effort, I turned my gaze away, and shook away my icy shell. Flying all around me fluttered song birds of spring, reveling in the warm sun shining down upon me. Their harmonies and melodies filled my heart, and for the first time, after a long winter, with the greeting of the equinox, I smiled.
My song birds called to me, their music mending me, filling me with new life, and healing the hole of my despair. I glanced back over my shoulder at the tree and released one last tear. As I wiped it from my cheek, I turned away, and once again danced.

Spreading Wings

Life never moves like we want or plan, often taking us down paths we never imagined or often feared. What can we do about it?

Everything is a test of our character. We can learn and adapt, identify and change, or   ignore and circle that same mountain until we do something to alter our journey.

In this phase of my journey, I'm finding the focus isn't so much on the road, but on those who share it with me, who walks beside me, who walks away. My heart has never hurt so much as it has theses past few months, and my very foundation of faith is being shaken. But the butterfly in me is breaking out of my cocoon, and I'm not ashamed of my colorful wings.  Though it hurts to fly away from everything I've ever known, it's who I've always been ...a butterfly.

Review: Sea Scoundrel by Annette Blair

*As published in West Georgia Living Magazine March/April 2013 issue.

"Falling in Love with romance all over again with ..."



Review by T.L. Gray






Author: Annette Blair
Publisher: ABA LLC; 2nd edition Expected Release Date: May 10, 2012Pages/Genre: 267/Romance

Bio: A New York Times best-selling author, Annette Blair left her job as a Development Director and Journalism Advisor at a private New England prep school to become a full time writer. At forty books and counting, she added cozy mysteries and bewitching romantic comedies to her award-winning historical romances. She also stepped into the amazing world of self-publishing.
Awards:
1997 RWA Golden Heart Finalist
1991 A Heart of the Rockies Award
1991 A Dallas Area Romance Authors

Book Description:Publication Date: May 10, 2012 SEA SCOUNDREL, Knave of Hearts, One of Four

--Lady Patience Kendall crossed the sea to marry, but her intended died before she arrived. Penniless and stranded, she found only one way to get home: Bring rich American Misses to England to find them titled husbands. At the ship, she realized their mothers expected each to wed the Marquess of Andover. She'd have to seek an introduction. On the journey, Captain Grant St. Benedict was anything but friendly. Just because her girls caused a few mishaps? Grant had never met a woman more irritating, or more desirable, than the Lady Patience Kendall. But however dangerous his interest, he couldn’t resist teaching the delicious distraction that independence was nothing to passion.

Review:
I’m not much of romance reader, preferring most often the heart-felt coming of age young adult stories, the mystery and magic of historical fiction, or getting lost among the adventure often spread over a series in an epic fantasy.  Not since I was a teenager have I delved into a good, old-fashioned romance.  What is a good, old-fashioned romance?  I’m not sure, but it sounded virtuous to declare it as such.  My idea of romance is Jane Austen’s Price and Prejudice, and for many years believed that the historical beauty simply set the bar too high, and no other romance would be able to compare, so why bother reading them.  I’m glad I reconsidered after all this time to give a romance novel a chance, or at least a little glance.  I’m so glad I did, and have since filled my Kindle full of Annette Blair’s lovely stories.
In the mood for a sea adventure, working on my own epic fantasy based upon the rolling waters of the open sea, I came across a copy of Sea Scoundrel by Annette Blair.  It sat unopened, unconsidered and very much neglected in my eReader for a few weeks, mostly due to my romance bias.  But, one Saturday, with a free afternoon, and a sense to do something out of my comfortable box, I scrolled across the title and opened my mind, and heart, into the world of Lady Patience Kindall and Captain Grant St. Benedict. 
From the moment when the young, vibrant, determined Lady Patience tripped and found herself sprawled out in an un-ladylike fashion on the docks for the entire world to see her in her humiliation, I was baited.  Then, when the hand of a gruff sailor reached out to help her, I saw the writing on the wall.  My heart instantly latched onto the seaman and never let go for one moment throughout the rest of the story.  I fell hard very rapidly, so quickly, in fact, I questioned whether I carried enough objectivity to read and give an unbiased review.  I smile when I say, with all confidence I am, and tout my quick affections to the effective, powerful and excellent writing of the author Annette Blair.  
I spent the afternoon lost among witty banter, embarrassing situations, and lots of moments of passionate outbursts, prejudices, and pride built from steel.  Though not quite as epic as Austen’s ingenuity, it held its own and sailed right into my heart.  The quest:  Lady Patience is to escort a handful of rich young American ladies to the English gentry in an effort to secure them a wealthy and connected family. Of course, no journey ever ends as was intended, and each of our characters, especially the young Lady Patience and the dashing Captain St. Benedict, discover who they truly are, what their personal strengths and weaknesses may be, and then making the choice to be what makes them happy.  I’m all for a Happily Ever After.  In our fast-paced world, a little character development is much needed.  This is a clean read, not filled with sex and violence, and one I found that really pulls on the heartstrings.
However, this tale doesn’t stand alone on its own, but is part of a Knave of Hearts, a band of unruly boys from the Zebulon Fishkill Academy in 1805, who make a bond, to swear an oath, to be there for one another, to call on each other in times of trouble, whatever life hands them.  Knowing about this pact from these young boys, who all grew up and become dashing romantic men, always stayed in the back of my mind as I read this adventure.  And so compelling of a writer was Annette Blair, I found myself instantly downloading and jumping right into the next story, the next part of the Knave of Hearts and haven’t even given a glance backwards. 
So, am I now a hopeless romantic?  Perhaps I’ve always been a romantic, but I’ve found a work of art that has the power to sweep me away for a few hours and allow me to go on an adventure that is not only romantic, but filled with intrigue, humor and witty banter. 
I highly recommend this series, or any book or series from Annette Blair (having now devoured most of her publication list) for any reader who wants to take a light-hearted adventure. 
Till next time,~T.L. Gray
Reviewed By: Reviewer:  T.L. Gray is a local author from Temple, Georgia.  She has five publications including: The Blood of Cain, Keezy’s 10 Awesome Rules for Teenaged Dating, Milledgeville Misfit, The Arcainians and A Kid in the Park as part of the anthology, Triumph Over Tragedy: Anthology to help Hurricane Sandy victims.   Ms. Gray works as a full-time novelist, editor, writing tutor, social media specialist and website manager.  She is an active Member of the Carrollton Creative Writer’s and Atlanta Writer’s Club, contributing writer to Impact Times Magazine and The West Georgia Living Magazine.  T.L. Gray is a 2012 Nominee for GAYA (Georgia Author of the Year Award), a NaNoWriMo 2012 Winner, and panelist in the upcoming Friends of the Library Literary Festival in Carrollton and the 2013 Georgia Literary Festival in Milledgeville.  www.tlgray.net