Margery Scott's Blog, page 18
August 1, 2012
Writer Wednesday – D’Ann Lindun
I’m thrilled to have D’Ann Lindun visiting my blog today to talk about her romantic suspense novel, Wild Horses.
Welcome, D’Ann. Tell us a little about yourself.
Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, I never thought about writing one until many years later when I took a how-to class at my local college. I was hooked! I began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to me because there’s just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. My particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because I draw inspiration from the area where I live, Western Colorado, with my husband of twenty-nine years and our daughter. Composites of our small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, eight ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in my stories!
Visit my website
Follow me on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/DLindunAuthor
Where did the inspiration come from to write this book?
When I was a kid, I read a book about a woman named Annie Bronn Johnston, later nicknamed Wild Horse Annie. Wild Horse Annie’s was the inspiring story of one woman who made a massive change in the life of the American mustang. Always a horse lover, Annie became involved in the cause of the horses when she was driving behind a truck bound for a slaughterhouse, and saw blood dripping from the truck.
Sickened, she took the mustang’s cause to schools, ranchers, politicians…anyone who would listen. In September of 1959, a law named in her honor was passed banning capturing wild horses from federal land. This law became the Wild Horse Annie act.
Annie Bronn Johnston continued her campaign until President Richard Nixon signed the Wild and Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act of 1971. This act prohibited capture, injury, or disturbance of wild horses and burros and for their transfer to suitable areas when populations became too large.
Unfortunately, this law has not been followed, but that would be a dissertation, not a blog post.
I never forgot Wild Horse Annie, and her bravery was part of what inspired my book, Wild Horses. Like Annie Bronn Johnston before him, Martin Castillo is determined to save the American mustang running wild on the Apache-Sitgreave national forest from round-ups and slaughter.
Blurb: Her family ranch outside of Payson, Arizona, is the last place Castaña Castillo thought she’d ever see again. But when her mustang activist brother goes missing, Castaña returns home to lead the search. Years of bad blood between local law enforcement and the Castillo men lead Castaña to believe the local cops won’t put out much effort to locate her brother. Especially since they think he murdered two federal wildlife agents.
Disgraced FBI agent Jake Breton needs to bring in Martin Castillo to redeem himself and resurrect his career. Falling in love with someone related to the suspect is the last thing he can afford to do. The last time he followed his heart, and not his head, it nearly cost him his life.
Danger, adventure, and death push Jake and Castaña together. Will they learn to trust each other and leave their pasts behind?
Excerpt:
What harm was there in confiding in him? He would leave in the morning. Maybe he’d even be useful as someone to bounce ideas off. God knew she didn’t have an exact plan. There were thousands of acres to search. Maybe Jake had bumped into him out there, or at least had an idea where to look. “No one seems to know where Martin went, or why. He doesn’t get along with the sheriff in town and I doubt they’d lift a finger to look for him.”
“Why’s that?” He sounded interested, but not judgmental.
“Because my father and brother didn’t always follow the rules,” she admitted in a rush of honesty. What was she saying? Her father had never followed any rules. Ramone Castillo had lived life the way he saw fit, with no thought to society’s restrictions or conventions. If he wanted to ignore his wife, he did. If he wanted to pretend his daughter didn’t exist, he did. He hadn’t given a rat’s ass about being arrested time and again for interfering with the government. His stints in jail hadn’t changed him one bit. If anything, they only made him more determined to do what he wanted.
“What did they do that the sheriff didn’t like?” Jake asked.
“My dad thought he was above the law,” she told him. “He was arrested countless times for sabotaging the BLM agents who oversee the wild horse herds. And Martin was just as determined as Pop to save the horses.”
“Save them from what?”
A wave of old bitterness flooded her as she remembered the way her father and brother shut her and Mama out of their lives. “They worship wild horses more than anything. Both my father and brother have made it their life’s work to save the mustangs from slaughter. Government interference enrages—enraged—them. In their opinion, the wild horses should be free. Some of their methods have been . . . extreme.”
“But isn’t it true that if the government doesn’t step in and remove some of the horses won’t they overpopulate the area and starve to death?” He used the same argument she herself had on more than one occasion with Pop and Martin. But an outsider preaching about mustangs annoyed her all the same.
You an find Wild Horses: at
Manic Readers
Thanks so much for spending time with me today, D’Ann.
July 30, 2012
My new cover
I have a cover!! What do you think? The book will be available on Amazon later this week.
July 29, 2012
Six-sentence Sunday 29/7/12
Welcome to Six-sentence Sunday. This week’s sentences come from The Next Victim, my latest romantic suspense novel.
As she described the footprints she’d seen in the woods, he saw her draw inward. It had really spooked her. He should be glad she’d been afraid. Maybe if she got scared enough she’d stop nosing into something she shouldn’t. At the same time, the vulnerability he saw in her eyes almost undid him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and promise her she’d never have to be frightened again.
Thanks for dropping by. I love to hear your comments, so don’t be shy. And don’t forget to check out the other authors here. Hope to see you next week.
Margery
July 25, 2012
Writer Wednesday – Mary Marvella
Little girl who outgrew paper dolls, coloring books, and fairytales.(NOT) 
Remember coloring books and paper dolls? As a kid I adored both. I loved using my imagination to change the pictures and add to them. I traced them on plain paper so I could color them over and over again. I did the same thing with paper dolls, designing more clothes for them.
I have always told stories. I created stories for the coloring book characters and dolls. My favorites were fairytales, Cinderella, Snow White, and others with that Happily Ever After. The other girls liked the stories I made up for “What happened next.”
When my daughter was young, I used the same techniques to make the fairytales last. We added chapters to the old stories.
Today I still tell stories, but I use a different approach. I find my own “what if?” to get a story growing from a kernel of an idea. Margo’s Choice began with a first line contest. I needed a grabber, soooooo.
“Maybe I should become a lesbian for a week. “ I don’t know who sent that thought, but it made me wonder who would think that and why. Are you wondering?
Blurb:
Margo’s Choice is a Southern Women’s Fiction story.
Margo Lake isn’t looking forward to seeing her ex husband Jay again. After 16 years of separation the marine still knows how to push her buttons. She has never stopped loving him, at least in some ways, though she really doesn’t like him.
When she learns he isn’t coming for a visit but is retiring, she fears what he can do to her heart if she lets him inside for even a second. Even more, she fears for the heart of her youngest daughter, the child who adores him, the child he doesn’t believe is his.
Beginning:
“Maybe I should become a lesbian for a week,” I blurted.
Carol choked on what was left of her watered-down frozen strawberry daiquiri.
I intended to pat her back, but she had become a blur – three too many daiquiris for me. Even the beige walls of my den seemed to move.
“Where the hell did that come from?” Carol stared at me as if I’d grown two heads.
I gulped the rest of my drink and said, “Don’t know what else to do.
“Spill,” Carol banged her glass on the coffee table. “Right now, Margo.”
I hiccupped. “Jay Lake.”
Carol stared at me.
Excerpt:
Well, Hell. I’d planned to wait in the car. Some days Dee saw me as an okay mom. Others she didn’t want to be seen with me. I popped the trunk and prepared to lug the spare and the jack out. My cell rang in my pocket. What now? I half rose, banging my head on the trunk lid. Stars filled my vision while pain made me feel faint, a tad nauseous.
“Need any help?” A deep voice resonated near me, the masculine drawl familiar as my own. God, I really hit my head hard. That voice can’t belong to Jay. Most of the men in this part of Georgia had the same charming drawl, so much more pleasing than some I heard every day. Other drawls didn’t send shivers up my spin the way Jay’s did.
I opened my eyes and saw long, muscular, denim-clad legs near the back fender. Heat spread over my face as my attention followed the legs to thick thighs, then the worn placket over the zipper. What a package, so far. I should straighten and look the man in his eye, but my stiff back had been bent too long.
A deep, masculine chuckle made me blush as I placed my hand on my back and tried to escape the position that made studying his lower body too easy. By the time I managed to straighten, the man’s chuckle stopped.
“Sonovabitch!” His expletive wasn’t loud, but he hadn’t whispered it.
Margo’s Choice is available now for Kindle at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008M0U8CU
Where can you find Mary?
Http://www.MaryMarvella.com
Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Marvella-Author/121044561311561
Would you forgive a man who denied your child was his?
Comment for a chance to win a free copy of The Gift, the story of a 40 year old woman who lost her virginity on her birthday.
Thanks so much for visiting my blog today, Mary.
July 20, 2012
Foto Friday – Heroes
Isn’t this the cutest frame? It was a gift to hold this photo of my two favorite firefighters – hubby and son on the one occasion they were allowed to work together. Appropriate, isn’t it?
July 18, 2012
Writer Wednesday – Lucy Francis
Welcome to a new feature on my blog – Writer Wednesday. Each week, a guest author will be either answering some questions about themselves or talking about whatever is on their mind at the time.
My first guest is contemporary romance author, Lucy Francis. I asked her a few questions about her life, her writing process and her books.
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be, and why?
I actually live right where I want to: Utah. I love the great outdoors, and there is such tremendous variety of terrain in this gorgeous place, everything from alpine mountains and lakes to red rock country to stark deserts. You can go from the city to the middle of the wilderness in 90 minutes or less. The people are friendly, and the tap water is the best tasting of any I’ve had in the U.S.
Do you have other talents? Or is there a talent you don’t have that you wish you did?
I am Ms. Fix-it and the owner of the toolbelt in the family. I’ve fixed everything from electrical outlets to the sprinkling system. I’d love to be able to knit, but for some reason I’ve never been able to process that from brain to fingers.
What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?The first draft. Getting through the first draft is exhausting, especially when working with a deep, emotional storyline. I have much more fun once the editing and rewrites begin.
What are you working on now?
I have two WIPs. One is the third book in my contemporary series. The other is the first book of a paranormal series that leans to the science fiction side, with an alien twist to some PNR tropes. I had to research string theory and genetics, among other things, which was a blast.
Where do you write? Can you describe your writing space for us?
I have a home office, with a corner for my hubby’s computer desk. The huge window by my desk lets in lots of sunshine, the lovely breezes that filter through my forest, and the sounds of the birds singing and fussing with each other at the feeder a few feet away. But my desk…oh, that’s a very scary place. My file-by-pile system is seriously out of control at the moment.
Complete this sentence: When I want to kick back and relax, I ___________
Go fly fishing, get a massage, or hang out with my daughter and watch Doctor Who.
Finding Refuge
Blurb:
Travis Holt’s life is steadily pulling him under, and he’s fighting it. He’s trying to save his addict brother from self-destruction, and dealing with the constant reminder of his personal failures, including the one that shattered his family. When a woman with a mythical name and a soul-warming smile throws him a lifeline, can he dare let himself take hold? Or will he just end up failing her, too?
Andromeda Miller has escaped Phoenix and come to Utah for a new start to her messy life. When she meets a man whose heart is genuine and whose touch makes her crave him, will she let him into the new life she’s creating? Or will his personal demons hit too close to home and doom her to the same kind of consuming pain that destroyed her father?
Excerpt:
Travis went up the wide, lavishly milled, curving stairs, meaning to give the house a look from the top floor down. His intentions flew out the nearest window when he walked into the master suite and found himself staring up at the most perfectly curved rear-end he’d ever seen poured into faded denim. Sweetly rounded below a narrow waist, it was the sort of ass that women were forever trying to work off even though men begged for more.
He refocused, shaking off the buzz of appreciation zipping straight to his groin, and forced himself to take in the whole picture. The woman stood too far up for safety on a six-foot ladder, facing the opposite wall. She twisted a light bulb into the pewter fixture on the coved ten-foot ceiling. His gaze wandered up to dark brown, wavy hair. Pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, the waves cascaded down the length of her red t-shirt, swaying at the top of her hips. He’d expected to find Rachel Garrett, his electrician. This tiny, curvy thing was definitely not Rachel.
“Who are you?” he asked.
She didn’t respond. He stepped forward. “Are you here with Rachel?” He reached out and tapped the heel of her red tennis shoe. “Hello?”
She jumped at his touch, turning toward him as she took a hasty step down.
Her foot missed the ladder rung.
Travis reacted instantly, catching her as she fell, stepping back so she didn’t hit the ladder.
A surge of fire blew through his system on the heels of the adrenaline rush, the heat pulsing through his chest as he held her, as his mind identified where he ended and she began. One arm held her around her waist, the other wrapped across her legs below her hips. For a moment, she stayed where she’d landed, half over his right shoulder, then she straightened. That position brought her breasts to eye-level. Her t-shirt, caught between them, molded against her, making it damn near impossible for Travis to swallow.
Heart pounding, Travis forced his gaze upward, meeting her dark brown eyes. The confusion in them threw ice water on his hormones. Small hands pressed against his shoulders and he loosened his hold on her, trying to ignore his physical interest as she slid down his frame to the floor.
She backed away a step, her gaze on her feet, her cheeks dusted pink, and pulled earbuds from her ears. The music blared through them. Ah. She hadn’t heard him.
“Hey, sorry I startled you,” he said. The rest of his words died in his throat when her gaze lifted and she smiled. A sweet, welcoming smile that lit up her entire self. It slid down inside him, stunning him and leaving a trail of light. No one he’d ever known had a smile like that.
“It’s okay. Thanks for catching me before I hurt myself.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder at the ladder. “Guess I should have taken the ‘do not stand on this step’ warning seriously, huh?” Her voice was low, with a slight whiskey-rasp.
It was a punch to the gut after anticipating that she’d sound like a little girl to match her small size. She couldn’t be more than, what, five-two? A grin spread across his face, he couldn’t help it. “Pretty sure the warning is there for a reason. Are you here with Rachel?”
“Yeah, I’m visiting her, and attempting to help, though I clearly have no clue what I’m doing.” She shrugged. Her smile faded and the part of Travis that had revived inside because of her smile died again, too. It stung. How could he fix that?
“You were doing great, I messed you up.” He held out a hand. “I’m Travis Holt.”
Her handshake was surprisingly firm. “Andri Miller.”
“Andri? Interesting name.”
“Short for Andromeda. I know, I know, my mother is Greek, so I come by it honestly,” she added hastily as his smile widened.
“No, it’s a beautiful name.” The sweet blush colored her cheeks again and his stomach flip-flopped.
**************************************************
Lucy has generously offered an electronic copy of Finding Refuge as well as a copy of the first book in her Heart’s Redemption series, Mending Fences, to one lucky commenter.
Thanks so much, Lucy, for helping me kick off Writer Wednesday.
Finding Refuge is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo
Visit Lucy at: http://www.lucyfrancis.net
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lucyfrancisauthor
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/lucyfrancis/
Update: The winner of Finding Refuge and Mending Fences is Christine Warner. Congratulations, Christine.
July 16, 2012
I need Holmes on Homes
Caution: construction zone.
A few months ago, we tore down a closet and a wall to create an open concept living space in our house at the lake. 
The demolition left a gaping hole in the ceiling as well as a teensy wall we couldn’t take down because of the bulkheads running the length of the room across the windows. We planned to have a contractor refinish the ceiling in the winter, but since he advised us to wait until the summer because of the dust, it was the perfect opportunity to do a little more. I mean, why not? Wasn’t that the contractor’s way of telling me to go ahead and make more changes?
So now, since it’s time to get the ceiling fixed, I might as well get rid of the ugly bulkheads as well as a section of ceiling that used to have kitchen cabinets hanging from it when the house was first built back in the 70′s. There was a name for that style kitchen but I don’t remember it.
This weekend, the demolition began.
A half hour into it, I could barely breathe, even with a dust mask and windows and fans running. So I did what any smart woman would do – I left and hid out in my office with the door closed:)
All that’s left now is the bulkhead across the plate glass window (you can see where the tiny wall is that has to be removed)
and the kitchen.
Mike Holmes and his crew could have torn it down, rebuilt it, painted and redecorated by now. Anybody got his phone number? Maybe if I call and beg, he’ll take pity on me and come fix the rest of my house.
August 8, 2011
Winterlude
What's a guy to do when his career depends on keeping the boss's virginal daughter untouched during a weekend ski vacation, especially when she's determined to lose her innocence - to him?
Available on Amazon and Smashwords.
