Suzanne G. Rogers's Blog, page 68
November 25, 2011
The Genie Rule – Interactive Friday!
Recap:
(Episode One) Peter found an oil lamp at a flea market. After Peter paid the merchant for the lamp, the gap-toothed fellow literally disappeared. Peter met up with his friend Larry, who offered to trade him his lame cork-and-wire banyan tree sculpture for the lamp. Peter refused.
(Episode Two) The two men headed over to Peter's studio apartment, where the cat Ambrosia was sleeping. Peter peeked inside the lamp, but was disappointed to find it empty. Larry told him it was the genie rule to rub the lamp. Peter objected but Larry got his hands on the lamp and rubbed it anyway. Ambrosia freaked as a real live gorgeous genie emerged from the lamp.
And now, Episode Three of The Genie Rule…
Ambrosia streaked under the sagging sleeper sofa as the smoke solidified into a gorgeous woman. Glistening tears slipped down her lovely cheeks as she read a worn copy of Old Yeller. With a sobbing hiccup, the genie closed the paperback and tossed it into the air. As the book vanished, so did the tearstains that marred her beautiful face.
"That gets me every time," she sighed.
She peered at Peter and Larry. Peter's eyes had bugged out and Larry's jaw was on the floor.
"Hello, boys. I have a massage at noon so let's get started. Three wishes, none of which involve wishing for more wishes or taking liberties with the genie. What'll it be?"
Her remarks were greeted by stunned silence, but the genie merely glanced around the room.
"This is a dump, if you don't mind me saying so. You should wish for a better crib."
Peter finally managed to make his mouth work. "What's your name?"
The genie grinned. "You wish to know my name?"
Larry jostled Peter with his elbows. "It's a trick. If you say yes, you'll lose one of your wishes."
"Hmm. You're not as stupid as you look, Larry," the genie said.
Larry's chest puffed up. "Okay…I want a '67 Chevy Camaro in red."
The genie snapped her fingers. "Done. The keys are in the ignition."
Galvanized by a sudden commotion outside, Larry and Peter bolted over to the window. A vintage car was parked in the parking lot, with a gas nozzle trailing from the tank. In the passenger side front seat sat a bleached blonde bimbo, screaming her head off.
"We don't want a stolen car! Put it back right now," Peter demanded, quivering with outrage.
"Fine." The genie snapped her fingers again and the car disappeared. "One more wish left."
"Nuh-uh," Larry protested. "We got two more wishes!"
"You wished for the car and then you wished it away," the genie said, ticking the wishes off on her fingers one by one. "That's two wishes gone. Cough up the third."
While the genie examined her manicure, Larry and Peter began to bicker with one another.
"It's my lamp, Larry," Peter insisted finally. "This game is way too dangerous. Don't you understand? Anything we wish will lead to trouble."
Peter took a deep breath and stared into the genie's eyes.
"I wish to know your name," he said.
The genie blanched. "Oh doggy doo doo. Now you've gone and done it."
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Come back next Friday for the results!
Woman in A Fiery Flame: © Natalia7 | Dreamstime.com
Magic Lamp: © Frenta | Dreamstime.com
November 22, 2011
Under The Kilt
"If it's not Scottish, it's crap!" – Mike Myers, Saturday Night Live
Really? As a California child of the sixties, the only exposure I ever had to a Scotsman was Scotty, the chief engineer in the television series Star Trek. I loved his accent, of course, and I always enjoyed his comebacks:
"Diplomats! The best diplomat I know is a fully activated phaser bank." – Scotty, Star Trek/"A Taste of Armageddon"
From Scotty, I learned that Scotsmen have a fondness for Scotch, and they use words like 'wee' and 'aye' a lot. Later on, the Highlander movies and series came along, and I discovered Scottish Immortals run around with long swords, cutting other Immortals' heads off because "There Can Be Only One."
I've never been to Scotland to confirm whether or not every Scotsman has a flask of Scotch hidden under his kilt. But with an ancestral name of 'Scott' in my immediate background, I've always been curious as to why the Scottish people have excited so many colorful stereotypes.
So I've brought in an expert.
Author Cathie Dunn (Highland Arms) is a real, authentic resident of Edinburgh, Scotland. She writes historical fiction and romantic adventure, and is a true expert in All Things Scottish. She's graciously consented (Aye!) to answer a few questions about Scotsmen.
Q: Cathie, is there any truth to the stereotypes about Scotsmen? Are they really a wild bunch of red-shirted, kilt-wearing, Scotch-drinking, sword-wielding, overly-emotional men?
Oh, I wish! 
In reality, you see Scotsmen wearing kilts only on special occasions, be it at weddings, ceilidhs, family dinners and Scottish rugby or football matches.
Fortunately, in Edinburgh – Scotland's capital city – you often spot a kilted man as there are always occasions where musicians gather or special events take place. Usually, those men wear the formal 'Prince Charlie' outfit – a kilt in clan tartan, a short black jacket (open at the front), black vest, tie or bow tie, white shirt, cream (or sometimes black) socks and those uncomfortable brogues which my husband (half Scots, half English) hates.
Finish it off with a stylish buckle on your belt, a good quality sporran, a skean dhu peeking out from a sock (a dirk, only allowed for ceremonial purposes!) and a fetching kilt pin.
During sporting matches, you see many men – young and older – wearing comfortable kilts with t-shirts and sturdy hiking boots. Not an emotional lot, but fiercely protective of their heritage.
Now, personally, I like both! The formal look is very dashing, while the informal gathering of young kilted men is always eye-catching.
As for drink, yes, Scots like their whisky (without an 'e'!), however, they're also partial to 
ales and there are many local breweries producing delicious ales. Funnily enough, our own first experience with a local Edinburgh beer was in a bar in Vancouver, Canada (twinned with Edinburgh)! How could we have missed it after 5 years in the Scottish capital? Only select pubs stock it!
Swords? Nah! Haven't seen any other than in museums. Some stunning claymores, broadswords and short swords are exhibited in the National Museum of Scotland. I'd love a claymore to hang over our fireplace but we'd need a special permission as weapons are not permitted in Scotland. One day…
Q: Tell us a few things about Scotsmen that might surprise us.
Well, now that we've debunked the myth that all Scotsmen run around in kilts (sob!), there aren't many big differences to other British men on a normal day.
Scots like their pint or two in the pub and take the family out on Sundays for a pub meal or wander. They are passionate about golf, rugby and football. With golf courses pretty much on every corner – many located in stunning settings – Scots love spending time on the green.
A very friendly, if sometimes brash, bunch.
Q: Who is your favorite fictional Scottish character?
Well, apart from Rory from Highland Arms (I'm biased!) I love Jamie from Diana Gabaldon's Outlander. He's such a strong character; tall, handsome and proud! I like that in a man…
(Aye, I like it too! – S.G. Rogers chimes in.)
Q: Finally, please give us a few common phrases you hear everyday in Scotland. (I'd love to be able to impress my friends.)
Edinburgh locals speak more clearly to non-locals, partly due to the large number of residents (including students) from other areas of Britain and abroad, like me. However, you can always eavesdrop… and discover quite a few gems. I used to live in Aberdeen in the north-east where dialects are different, much stronger, and I know Edinburgh locals who don't understand Aberdonians. I do. Now!
Scottish Phrases you might hear in places…
Lang may yer lum reek! (Live long and happily!)
Pit yer hon there! (Shake my hand!)
Awa wi ye! (You are kidding me!)
More fancy phrases: http://www.scotland-welcomes-you.com/scottish_sayings.html
Thank you, Cathie, for being my guest today. It's been a real eye-opener!
- S.G. Rogers
Book Blurb:
Betrayed by her brother's lies, Catriona MacKenzie is banished from her Edinburgh home to her godmother's remote manor in the Highlands. While her father ponders her fate, Catriona's insatiable curiosity leads her straight into trouble–and into the arms of a notorious Highlander.
Five years after an ill-fated Jacobite rebellion, Rory Cameron works as a smuggler to raise money for the cause–until Catriona uncovers a plot against him and exposes his activities. Now Rory is faced with a decision that could save their lives or destroy them both.
Excerpt:
Intrigued, any thought of detection forgotten, Catriona let her gaze drift over him, taking in his worn kilt and plaid. The light-brown linen shirt gaped open at the neck, revealing a soft sprinkling of hair on bronzed skin; his sleeves rolled up over strong, muscled arms. His bearings put him above the other men in status but his body proved him to be a man of the out-of-doors. To her surprise, his chin was not covered with an unkempt beard—like his companions' shaggy faces—but only bore a hint of stubble. Here was a man who shaved regularly.
Catriona's mind whirled as she let her gaze wander further across his ruggedly handsome features. His open face with strong cheekbones and wide-set eyes spoke of power, a forceful character. Dark blond hair, glowing in the light of the tallow candles, was tied back at the nape of his neck. Most certainly he was not a drover. But why was he sharing their whisky? He piqued her curiosity and, in the absence of any other form of entertainment in this bare inn, she found herself fascinated.
When he glanced up from his cup, their eyes met. They held for a moment that stretched like eternity. His, a vibrant green that sparkled across the smoky room, mocked her apparent interest. Caught in the act, she blushed and quickly busied herself adjusting the folds of her dress before extending her hands to the fire, thereby turning her back to the room. How obvious her scrutiny had been! Her cheeks flamed, and not just from the heat of the fire.
Highland Arms is available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and The Wild Rose Press.
Cathie on the web:
Website: www.cathiedunn.com
Blog: http://cathiedunn.blogspot.com
Twitter: @cathiedunn
***
Dancing Man: © Darkbird77 | Dreamstime.com
Drunken Scotsman: © Photowitch | Dreamstime.com
November 20, 2011
The Frugal eReader Sunday Feature – The Last Great Wizard of Yden!
The Last Great Wizard of Yden is being featured today on The Frugal eReader! Woot! Non-fat, sugar-free, 100% American-made, green entertainment for less than the price of a latte. ($2.99).
November 18, 2011
The Genie Rule – It's Fantasy Friday!
Recap: Last week, our Hero (we'll call him Peter going forward) found a funny oil lamp at a flea market. After Peter paid the merchant for the lamp, the gap-toothed merchant literally disappeared. Peter met up with his friend Larry, who offered to trade him his totally lame cork-and-wire banyan tree sculpture for the lamp.
What did Peter do? The votes are in: He took the oil lamp home, hoping it contained a wish-granting genie that wouldn't knock his two front teeth out.
And now, back to our story…
Peter and Larry entered the modest studio apartment with their flea-market treasures in hand. Dead asleep, Ambrosia was stretched out in the square of sunlight streaming through the sliding glass window. Her little cat paws moved as she chased dream birds across an imaginary field.
"That's cute," Larry said, pointing at the feline. "Got beer?" He dumped his banyan tree on the coffee table, startling the cat awake.
"It's ten o'clock in the morning, dude," Peter said.
Larry shrugged. "I'll mix it with orange juice."
"Help yourself," Peter replied.
While Larry fixed himself a breakfast beverage, Peter examined the oil lamp. He opened the lid and peered inside. A smile tugged at his lips. "It's empty. You know, I half expected to find a genie inside."
Larry took a sip of his orange beer and belched. "You have to rub it. That's the genie rule."
Peter laughed. "I'm not going to rub the lamp, Larry. That's stupid."
"Give it here. I'll rub it."
"No!"
As the two men tussled over the lamp, Larry spilled his drink on the off-white carpet. "Oops."
Peter shot Larry a dark look. He put the lamp on the counter and reached for a paper towel to mop up the stain. With a mischievous giggle, Larry whipped out his shirttail and used it to rub the lamp. For no apparent reason, a gust of wind swept through the room. Ambrosia arched her back and hissed.
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Come back next Friday to see the results of the tally and find out what happens next in the story!
- S.G. Rogers
Magic Lamp illustration: © Frenta | Dreamstime.com
November 16, 2011
What the Heck is Steampunk Anyway? Author Heather Hiestand Explains
What is Steampunk?
Thanks for allowing me to visit today, Suzanne, and share one of my favorite topics.
Steampunk is an exciting buzzword in the arts right now, but what is it? From my point of view, it is a form of alternative history literature or art (including fashion) which involves gadgets, often based on Victorian steam technology. That's the steam part. The other part, the "punk," is some level of rebellious attitude. While my steampunk has been based in Victorian London, which has fascinated me since I started reading romance novels in the 1990s, writers have taken it all over the universe and all through time. It's the gadgets and attitude that really make steampunk.
Steampunk fiction is often set from about 1850 to 1920, but I've seen it set in the future, in Ancient Rome, and just about anywhere else. Common gadgets are airships, ray guns, computers and automatons (robots) and since I grew up reading my father's science fiction novels, this part holds definite appeal for me. Fashion is very important in most steampunk tales. Usually, historical Victorian clothing is the departure point, from whatever country the story is set in, like corsets, frock coats, hats and boots. Social mores will probably be stylized in some fashion. Once again, the formality of Victorian times is usually the starting point.
What are these stories about? The author might concern themselves with the plight of the poor and social inequalities, or the lives of rebels against the government or the bad guys. There might be a quest of some kind, or a tale of survival. Possibilities are endless. Characters might come from the upper crust of society, the working class or poor, or even the underworld. It's not unusual to find paranormal creatures as well. Vampires found a new home in steampunk, but I've also seen werewolves, wizards and Native American magic. The type of society is important too, over all. It might be open, regressive, or even dangerous.
As you can see, the playing field is vast. Steampunk isn't just about brass goggles and you'll find a wide variety of exciting fiction when you dip into this genre.
~ Heather Hiestand
http://www.heatherhiestand.com
http://blog.heatherhiestand.com
Heather Hiestand's latest release is steampunk romance novella Captain Andrew's Flying Christmas.
Blurb:
Housemaid Linet Fenna would rather be an air pirate than a servant. When she finds the ladder to an airship dangling outside her garret window on Christmas Eve, 1892, she ascends to the skies above London on her late father's flagship dirigible, the Christmas. The new captain is someone she never expected to see again, a dangerous, sexy foe. Is the Fenna family nemesis offering Linet her heart's desire or a dastardly trap?
Captain Andrew's motivations are as foggy as the coal-soaked sky. Prime Minister Gladstone's Blockaders, a horde of automen and a teenage girl named Hatchet want Linet to fail in her quest to discover what happened to her missing family, but she is determined to have a happy Christmas.
Captain Andrew's Flying Christmas is a 16,000-word steampunk romance novella.
Captain Andrew's Flying Christmas links:
Available at: Amazon, Smashwords, BN.com and All Romance ebooks:
***
Visit Heather's blog from November 14 – November 21st (midnight), for a chance to WIN a copy of CAFC, PLUS comments on her blog will also count as entries to the Save A Turkey, Gobble a Book Blog Tour contest!
Thanks Heather for being my guest at Child of Yden!
- S.G. Rogers
Question mark machine illustration: © Drizzd | Dreamstime.com
November 14, 2011
Interactive Fantasy Story "The Two-Edged Sword"
Come save the squirrel--or not.
http://childofyden.wordpress.com/save...
UK Author Tricia Jones Talks Bull
Thank you, Suzanne, for having me as a guest on your blog.
The idea for my latest contemporary romance simmered around in my head for a couple of years before I actually decided to write Dee and Alex's story. Fascinated by a snippet in the UK press about a housing development that would centre around an ancient stone and the controversy it generated, I let the idea for my own take on such a concept stew until I had exactly the right characters to make it work.
While Dee is a modern woman, with her own business and her feet planted firmly on the ground, she is driven by love for the grandmother who raised her and a respect for the traditions of the village she grew up in. So when Alex McKinley arrives and threatens to destroy an old fairy gate which is central to the village's rituals and beliefs, Dee steps in to fight him all the way.
His rigid and uncompromising attitude soon earns Alex the nickname "Bull" but only he knows the demons he must fight to adequately provide for his young daughter. As a single parent, he plans to give his child the best money can buy and that means throwing his weight behind the prestigious, and lucrative, new development in what he considers an antiquated English village.
While I love Dee's fiery passion, and her equally "bullish" attitude toward protecting the intangible things she holds dear to her heart, I also feel for Alex, who thinks the only way to protect his child is through more practical means. These two people and their differing desires certainly make an explosive mix and, of course, neither considers the influencing power of the old fairy gate.
Here's the blurb and an excerpt from Bull at the Gate. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Alexander "Bull" McKinley's reputation as a hard-nosed businessman is tested when an old Fairy Gate and local superstition stand in the way of a lucrative development contract. Alex has his hands full trying to convince the villagers to play ball, without the unexpected—and definitely unwanted—attraction to the feisty redhead leading the revolt.
Dee Ashman detests those who put profit before people, and she's damned if an arrogant, insensitive and, okay, wildly attractive capitalist is going to destroy the symbolic heart of the village and break her beloved grandmother's heart.
But they cannot deny the desire that burns between them nor the unleashed passion neither can resist.
Extract from Bull at the Gate:
He walked a few steps forward and peered up at the ironwork arch. "The only thing I got when I touched the bloody thing, was an electric shock."
Dee moved to join him. "That's because it knows you mean it harm."
"It? The thing's got a life of its own?"
"'Course. It's got a few hundred years worth of energy gathered in its structure. Think of all the people who've touched it hoping for their wishes to come true."
He turned and looked down at her. "What about you? Have you ever made a wish here?"
"A couple actually."
"And?"
"And, what?"
"Did they come true?"
No, they hadn't. Neither one. Her mother had never come back for her, and she'd never discovered the identity of her father.
Alex stood, awaiting her answer.
"I think I made the mistake of telling someone what my wishes were. Apparently, if you tell, they don't come true."
"Convenient. Maybe you should try again. How about tapping it twice and wishing I'll disappear."
"It's tempting." So were his eyes with the moonlight shining in them, and the curve of his lips as they slid into a smile. "But if I gave it another shot, you'd know what I was wishing for, which means it wouldn't happen."
His expression turned serious. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Dee. I just want to build a few houses."
"Hardly a few. Plus there's the commercial buildings, bet they're going to turn a nice tidy profit."
"Can't deny it. Making profit is why I'm in business." Reaching out, he touched her arm and slid his fingers from elbow to wrist. "Doesn't mean we can't reach some amicable conclusion in all this. No reason we can't all win."
"How will that happen exactly?" Hmm. Maybe he could stop running his hand down her arm like that. "You won't re-route the pipes and the villagers won't agree to having the Gate removed."
"Re-sited."
"Whatever. Err, do you think you could stop doing that? We're having this important conversation. It's distracting."
He moved in, taking both her arms and easing her closer. "See there? Something we agree on. I've been distracted ever since you yelled at me in the village hall."
Bull at the Gate available from The Wild Rose Press: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=175_133&products_id=4648
****
Thanks, Tricia, for being my guest. I love the idea of a Fairy Gate!
- S.G. Rogers
November 10, 2011
What Is Your Wish? It's Fantasy Friday!
Your friend Larry asks you to drive him to a Saturday morning flea market. Ordinarily, you hate things 
like that; you usually do all your shopping over the Internet. But Larry gave you a lift last week when your car was in the shop, so it's an opportunity to return the favor. While he's in the corner looking at colored glass bottle trees, something in a box underneath a table catches your eye. You lift out a quirky little vessel to examine it more closely. The metal object in your hands resembles a tarnished gravy boat, and you can't imagine why you picked it up.
"How much for this thing?" you ask the merchant.
He smiles, revealing a wide gap where his two front teeth used to be. "It's an oil lamp," he replies. "That'll be three drachmas."
"I'm fresh out of drachmas," you say. "I'll give you five bucks."
"Done."
You pay the man and tuck the lamp under your arm, oddly pleased. On the way out of the flea market, you glance over your shoulder. The merchant and his table have disappeared. A shock runs through you, and you wish you'd settled for decaf that morning.
You meet Larry as he lugs a banyan tree sculpture made of wine corks toward the car. He gives your lamp a dubious look. "That's a piece of junk," he says.
You stifle a smile. "Likewise."
He pauses. "Wanna trade?"
"Not on your life," you say.
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- S.G. Rogers
Genie photo: © Mike Heywood | Dreamstime.com
Got Sons?
Go anywhere. Be anything. Read.
If you have sons, and you'd like to encourage them to pick up a book, check out Boys Read–an organization of parents, educators, librarians, mentors, authors, and booksellers, dedicated to transforming boys into lifelong readers. I'm truly thrilled that they've featured my book "The Last Great Wizard of Yden."
- S.G. Rogers
November 9, 2011
Building A Platform Before Releasing Your Book
Come visit me as I guest on Catherine Bybee's blog, Romance By Catherine, on what I learned (the hard way) bringing my first novel to the market. Pass It On — A Word To The Wise.
What do you mean the book won't just sell itself? DOH!
- S.G. Rogers
