K.C. Sprayberry's Blog, page 163

Enter My World

Everyone knows that most fantasy and science fiction authors create worlds for their books, often they make up an entire book dedicated to names, locations, and important scenes. It’s the only way they can keep everything straight.
Did you know that all authors should build a world for their book, even if it’s a stand alone novel?
That’s right. You should put in writing the world you are creating. Never leave anything like this to chance. It’s an easy way to reference a street name, a location, or the color of a car without breaking your writing time to search for the information.
What kind of information should be contained in this file? Actually, anything you plan to put in your book, or additions you didn’t think of before starting. I’d suggest dividing this helpful file into sections, utilizing the Hyperlink area under the Insert tab on Word to create headings for those sections that make it easy to access. (Instructions to use this hyperlink are in Word’s help files and can be found by pressing the F1 key.)
You can be short of very detailed with these sections. It’s all depending on how important the character is and what kind of information is necessary for the book. If you are writing a series, you should probably do a full description and add in all details that come to mind as you’re writing
Characters:
From the protagonist to the antagonist to all those characters who will support your story in varying roles, you will need a bare bones description—basically what they look like. You should also include what drives them in their current situation, things they care about deeply, their plans for the future, and anything that might seem important (right down to constantly chewing gum or their fingernails).
Scenes:
Where is your story happening? On a planet in the far reaches of the universe? A land that time forgot? A mystical castle? Or just around the corner? You need to set that scene and every detail that makes your story memorable. Details here can trip you up if you forget one. Put street names, what kinds of plants, trees, and flowers there are, specific streets you wants to use, anything that adds to your story. Remember continuity—keep this updated so that you don’t change Market Street to Market Road.
Extras you absolutely have to remember:
What kind of car your character drives. Does it have a special meaning to them? Where they like to hang out. Their dreams of the future. All the information you need to know can be at your fingertips in this section.
There are many other things you can put into this file, and set up a hyperlink for finding it quickly. Be sure to save this file in the same folder as your book, so you don’t have to hunt it down in case you need it fast.
All of this doesn’t have to be done before you start your book. You can do a simple set up and add information as you’re working. Then when you’re working, it’s a matter of comparing information, ensuring all is the same, and you’ll have a better book.

Teaser Tuesday ~ Julian Bell ~ A Diamond in Venice

About the AuthorThomas Bell who writes under the pen name, Julian Bell, is a resident of southwestern Ohio and a recently retired business executive. He sits on the board of two corporations and has several clients with whom he consults. He is the former President and CEO of Skyline Chili and was Executive Vice President of Baker Concrete, the largest concrete construction company in the United States.
Before obtaining and M.B.A. from Miami University of Ohio, Mr. Bell served in the United States Air Force and was based at Aviano Air Base in Northern Italy. A Diamond in Venice is his first novel.


Blurb
In June 1966, 20 year old Johnny Jones joins the Air Force and is shipped to a base in Northern Italy. Little did he know he’d have a torrid love affair, play professional baseball in the Italian League and be offered the opportunity to become an officer and fly fighter jets. ‘A Diamond In Venice’ is the story of a young man from the Midwest who at the end of his sophomore year of college has no clue as to what he wants to do or what he wants to be, so he decides to join the armed forces. When he arrives at Aviano Air Base located in Northern Italy, he meets Maria, a gorgeous Italian girl from a wealthy family who is working on the base to perfect her English. They fall deeply in love and Johnny realizes that he now knows what he wants to do – marry Maria and become an officer. He discovers, however, that there are a few obstacles, including Maria’s father who is opposed to their relationship. Johnny must somehow find a way to win him over.Along the way he is given the opportunity to play professional baseball in the Italian baseball league where he becomes a star playing shortstop for Venice. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he’d be signing autographs before a ball game.


Excerpt:After the game I showered and shaved, while Maria and Gabriella hung out with Gina at a café near the square. Jack and Gina decided to go to Gina’s parents’ house to discuss the wedding, which was only two weeks away, so I took the girls out to eat. The girls looked great in their sundresses, which were short and low cut, Maria’s more than Gabriella’s. We decided to go to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant place near their villa in Sacile. They both said it wasn’t anything special, but the pizza and pasta were good. The girls decided to share a pizza and I ordered my favorite, spaghetti with meat sauce—I figured I could steal a piece of pizza as well. As we enjoyed some red wine, I told the girls I was going to try out for Venice’s Baseball team. I thought Gabriella would explode with excitement. “Is it really true, Johnny? You aren’t making a joke? You’ll play for Venezia?” Maria was smiling at Gabriella and then me. I could tell by the look on her face, though, she was excited too. “I didn’t say I’d be playing. I first have to make the team. They’re sending me and another guy down to try out. He’s a catcher who plays fast pitch for Headquarters. He’s a big guy and seems like a really good player. I’m not sure of how good a hitter he is, because when a player hits against Holt it’s hard to look good.” “When do you try out, Johnny? And can I go?” “Gabriella! You should not be so presumptuous.” She smiled. “Johnny is my boyfriend.” “I know Maria, I’m just so happy for him and I love watching baseball.” “Gabriella your enthusiasm is even starting to get me excited, but when I go down to try out I need to be totally calm and focused. If I make the team, then you and Maria can come and watch me play.” “Johnny, you will make the team. I know you will. You are so good a player. Maria and I will come and watch you play.” After dinner, I drove them home. Maria invited me in. Gabriella went to her room and we went into the music room. “Are your parents home?” “No, they are visiting friends in Pordenone and won’t be home for a couple of hours.” “Maria, I want to talk to your father about us and I want to tell him how I feel about you.” She looked away. “I know you lied to him about us, but if he got to know me, I know he’d like me—I’m a pretty nice guy.” She smiled. “Johnny, I know he would like you, but we must wait. Please.”She played piano for me again. This time she played several songs from Broadway, ‘I Could Have Danced All Night,’ ‘Some Enchanted Evening,’ and, ironically, ‘Maria.’ When she finished, she came over to me, and like last time knelt in front of me and pulled me to her and kissed me with deep emotion. I gently pulled her up on the couch and she laid her head on my shoulder. Suddenly, Gabriella was shaking us. We had fallen asleep. “Maria, Mama and Papa will soon be home.” “Grazie, Gabriella. Johnny, I’m sorry, but you must go.” As I drove back to the base I couldn’t help but wonder why Maria seemed so opposed to me talking with her father. On Wednesday after work, Maria and I drove up to Our Lady of the Mountain. Neither of us had actually been in the church so we decided to go in. Maria was always very solemn in church. She knelt down and prayed and I knelt down beside her. After a few minutes the priest (we learned his name was Father Giuseppe) who confronted us a couple of months earlier came in and entered the confessional. I noticed he glanced our way as he was walking toward the confessional. A few people began lining up to go to confession, including Maria. When she came out I followed her to the front of the church. We each lit a candle.Maria kneeled down and prayed her penance. When she finished, we walked out of the church. It was dark and the lights below in the valley were sparkling. We walked to the railing and took in the view. “What was the ‘special intention’ you asked the Lord for when you lit the candle, Maria.” “It was for us. And you?” “It was that I would soon get to talk with your dad, I mean your father, and that he will like me.”  “Johnny, it is a very fragile thing. If he knows how we really are, he will forbid me to see you.” “Okay, I get it. I guess I can play the game for a while, but Maria, he’s got to know sooner or later.” She looked down. “I will arrange for a meeting, but you must not tell him we are in love.” As she spoke she turned and looked me in the eye.***On Tuesday we had a game against Base Ops. It wasn’t much of a contest. Holt threw a two-hitter, striking out 12 and walking 3. We won 10-0. I was three for five with two doubles, but it was the first game I hadn’t hit a long ball, although one of the doubles hit the fence and missed going out by a foot.After the game Sullivan and I were talking about my upcoming tryout in Venice. Sullivan was a pitcher in high school and he suggested that a little practice wouldn’t hurt me. I agreed, so he and Jack decided to help me get ready. We called Wyman and he came up with a bag of balls and a couple of baseball bats. On Thursday after work we went to the practice field adjacent to the fast pitch field. Mike came along to help shag balls.Sullivan took a few minutes to warm up. I stepped into the batter’s box batting right-handed and I asked Sullivan to throw only fastballs to start. He was probably throwing in the low 80’s. In high school most of the pitchers threw in the high 70’s and low 80’s and occasionally you’d see a guy who would hit the high 80’s. It took me a little while to get my timing down. I finally hit a few long fly balls (one or two may have cleared the fence, had there been one) and some line drives, but I also hit a lot of pop ups and ground balls. After about 15 minutes I turned around and hit left-handed. I popped the first one up. After that, I was dialed in. It was one rope after another with a few that would have been sure homeruns.We stopped at the BX on the way back from the field. I decided to buy a bat because I wasn’t sure if the Venice team would have a bat that would fit my swing. There were only a few bats for sale. Most were little league bats meant for young boys, but there was one 33” Louisville Slugger, Jackie Jenson model. It had a thin handle and was a little light for me. Then I spotted a 34” Adirondack, Stan Musial model. I took a few swings. It was a beauty, so I bought it. I didn’t know it then, but that bat had a few hits in it!On Friday morning I met with Sergeant Wyman. He introduced me to A1C Alex Perez who was the catcher for Headquarters. Alex was 6’2” and about 210 pounds, much of which was muscle. He was from San Juan, Puerto Rico. Wyman said we both had an excellent chance to make Venice’s team. He had seen them play the prior year and he thought we’d have been the best two players on that team. Neither Alex or I knew much about the Italian baseball leagues, so Frank explained that there were two leagues in Italy, the A and the B Leagues. Technically they were professional leagues, but the pay was minimal. The A League players probably got 60,000-120,000 lira per game, or the equivalent of $100-$200. The B League players only got 10,000-20,000 lira per game or the equivalent of $16- $32 per game. Wyman said we should realize that the Air Force was willing to supply a few players to the Leagues as a goodwill gesture and to promote relations with the Italian people. Neither Alex nor I cared about the money. We just enjoyed playing the game and were looking forward to seeing more of Italy.Venice was in the B League along with Padua, Udine, Treviso, Trieste, Vicenza and Verona. The A League was comprised of teams from several larger cities including Rome, Milan, Florence and a few others. Wyman gave us directions on how to get to Venice and where we were to meet.Alex and I hopped in the Mustang with our equipment and took off. During the ride to Venice I learned a little about him. For one thing he was a very personable guy with a good sense of humor. It seemed as though he was laughing half the time. His father owned and operated a little restaurant in San Juan. His two brothers and his sister all worked in the business. We parked in a large lot then boarded a ferry. We must’ve looked strange to the other passengers on the boat because we were loaded down with our bats, gloves and warm up bags. We were dressed in sweatpants and jerseys. We arrived at our stop, St. Mark’s Square. I had been there on a cold December day with Maria. But this was a warm sunny day with the temperature around 75 degrees. There were lots of tourists at the sidewalk cafes enjoying food and drink – and the live music.We followed the directions Wyman gave us and found the address. It turned out to be a restaurant. The owner was also the owner of the ball club. His name was Gelindo Pancera. When we walked in the bar, Gelindo rushed to greet us. He spoke perfect English. He had lived in New York until he was 13. It was like we were long lost family. Most of the players were also there, and Gelindo introduced us to them. It was less than an hour before practice and our tryout, and almost every player was drinking either a Grappa or a Sambuca Bianca! I guessed the training regimen was a little different in Italy. Gelindo offered Alex and me a drink, but we declined. After about 45 minutes we all left Gelindo’s bar and boarded a ferry to the Lido where the ball field was located.The field was a converted soccer field; there weren’t any lights. There were locker rooms but no dugouts, only benches. And the field was bumpy. Gelindo introduced us to the team’s manager. His name was Ricardo Martino, but he went by Rick. “What poseetion do you guysa play?” I answered, “Alex is a catcher and I play center field.” “Ah, si catcher is good, but we no needa the center fielder. Hava a good center fielder already – best in league. Also hava very good left anda right fielders.” I thought I was done before the tryout. “We needa shortstop. Can you do?” I actually started out as a shortstop, both in Little League and Babe Ruth League. In high school I was moved to center because of my speed, but I certainly remembered how to play the position. “Si, I can do. I mean, yes, I can play shortstop. I’ve played quite a few games at shortstop.” “Okay, we now see how you guysa play.”We warmed up by playing toss for about 10 minutes then we took the field, Alex at catcher and me at short. We began with Alex throwing down to second. I took the throw. Wow, he had a gun. We threw it around the infield, then back to me and then home. The ball popped when it hit Alex’s mitt—I think he may have thought, wow, he has a gun!Using a fungo bat, Rick orchestrated infield practice. I fielded every chance hit my way and also handled the double plays, just fine. I even gave our second baseman (his name was Antonio but he went by Tony) some hints on how to turn the double play more efficiently. I think Rick was impressed with my arm because every time I threw across the diamond, he’d say, “Gooda throw.” I later learned that the shortstop from last year’s team had numerous throwing errors. As for Alex, he was the real deal. No question, he could play college ball. What stuck out like a sore thumb were cutoff plays on throws from the outfield—Rick hadn’t instructed the players correctly. On several occasions when outfielders were firing the ball to the infield their throws went to the wrong place given the situation. I noticed Alex had his hands on his hips and just shook his head. But we both were smart enough to hold our tongues. As we completed fielding practice, it was clear the team had some good defensive players. The outfielders were all gifted athletes. The first baseman was first class, and I rated Alex and myself above average. The third baseman and second baseman were fair fielders, but both had good arms. Batting practice was next. Alex and I were to hit last. Each hitter got about twenty swings. The club’s first baseman and center fielder were excellent hitters. The first baseman, Gino, was a power hitter, while the center fielder, Carlo, was a line drive hitter. He hit the ball all over the field. The rest of the players ranged from fair to good. After a little over an hour, Alex and I were called in to hit. Gelindo and Rick moved to a spot near the third base coaching box, presumably to get a better view. Alex, a right-handed batter, hit first. The pitcher had a decent pitching motion, but wasn’t throwing particularly hard—maybe in the mid 70’s. He wasn’t throwing near as hard as Sullivan was the day before. Alex took a couple of pitches then put on a hitting clinic. He was truly a hard hitting catcher. He was strictly a pull hitter, so all of his shots were left of center field. He hit several in the gap, one of which was off the wall. And on his last swing he knocked one well over the left field fence. Now it was my turn. I stepped in right-handed. The pitcher threw five straight balls, none were close to the strike zone. Out of frustration I swung and missed the next pitch, which was high and away. I then proceeded to foul a couple off, hit a couple of grounders and then popped one up. I glanced at Gelindo and Rick who were looking at me and whispering to each other. I thought, if I don’t do something soon, I won’t be coming back. I heard Alex yell, “Come on Johnny. Show’em what you can do.”I switched to the left side. I took the first pitch then lined one to right center that rolled to the fence. The pitcher, thank God, then threw me four pitches in a row that were all up and over the plate. I hit each further than its predecessor. All four cleared the fence in straight away right field with the last two clearing the bleachers and landing in the canal. Each of the last two traveled over 400 feet. Rick called time and yelled, “Johnny, that’s enough. We don’t wanta lose more balls.” After practice Gelindo and Rick called Alex and me over. Rick did the talking. “Alicks anda Shjohnny, weeda be honored to hava you to join our team; will you play for Venezia?” Alex answered for both of us, “Si, Si, Signore Rick, we’ll play for you. Grazie.” I just smiled and nodded.Gelindo explained our first game was in two weeks on May 13th and that we wouldn’t practice again until the week of the game. That week we’d practice on Monday through Thursday from two in the afternoon until five. On Friday we’d practice from three until six and then the team would eat together at Gelindo’s place. The game would be at one o’clock on Saturday. There were six other teams in the league. We would play each twice—once at home and once away. We would play six Saturdays in a row and then have Saturday, June 24thoff. We would then play six more Saturdays in a row until the season was complete on August 5th. After the first game we’d only practice on Fridays from three until six and then on Friday night (home games only) we’d dine at Gelindo’s. Gelindo indicated the practice schedule had been preapproved by Sergeant Wyman and our Squadron Commanders.Alex and I were ecstatic that we made the team! We complimented and congratulated each other half a dozen times during our drive back to Aviano. Gelindo told us that we would be paid 25,000 lira (about $42) each game plus a transportation allowance for petrol. Our hotel bill (we would share a room), the Friday night meal and breakfast on Saturday would be picked up by Gelindo. We never knew what the Italian players were paid, if anything.

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A Diamond in Venice  

Don’t Burn Your Bridges With A Publisher

I’ve learned a lot since becoming the Editor-in-Chief of Summer Solstice Publishing. One of the most important is often made by former self published authors, or those soon to be releasing their first book.
These people are often determined to control every aspect of the pre-publication process, from choosing the cover art to the final author check. They will become unreasonable if told no they can’t do this or that. Never once does it enter their heads that they are in fact making it impossible to offer them a second contract for their work, no matter how good it is.
When an author signs a contract with a publisher, they often overlook phrases that don’t interest them. Most will scan the contract, concentrating on their responsibilities and the royalty rates and payout schedule. They don’t once think of concentrating on what the publisher’s responsibilities are, nor do they concern themselves with what the publisher can do without their permission.
It never dawns on those authors that they might not have the right to say “Do this or I won’t give approval for you to publish my book.”
I never entertained the idea of self publishing. That meant I spent many, many years submitting to publishers, pouring over rejection notices to see where I went wrong, revising my work, and submitting to yet another publisher. When I received my first publisher contract in 2010, to be part of the Passionate Hearts Anthology, I read that contract over several times. I made sure I knew everything in the contract and what I was responsible for, what the publisher was responsible for, and what could happen if I didn’t cooperate with the pre-publication process. I even spoke with an attorney friend, who assured me that I was doing excellent due diligence in ensuring this was a contract I could live with until it expired. Eventually, I signed and returned the contract, and lived up to my end of the bargain.
Recently, I’ve seen a spate of authors who become churlish when it comes to cover art, what their editor is telling them must be fixed (they are assuming their book is perfect and requires no editing at all), or deciding revisions must be done during the final check. These authors will become stiffly formal in their communications or even angry when told they can’t have their way. They will threaten to hire an attorney or that they won’t allow their book to be published unless the publisher goes along with them. A few wheedle and attempt to strike a deal.
What happens to these people? For those who start this type of problem before the cover art is made or any edits have started, they may find themselves offered two simple choices: they can either cooperate or sign a release of rights back to them and the publisher is finished with them. Most of the time, the author understands they are about to make a fatal mistake and cooperates. Other times, they are on the outside looking in, and bitter at how this “uncooperative publisher didn’t recognize the genius of their work or that it was a best seller, more than likely to hit the New York Times list within days of publication.
Your best bet as an author seeking a publisher with your work is to remember this piece of advice.
A publisher is in the business of making money, just as you are. They want the best book possible, from the cover art to the story itself. They have invested a lot of money in you and your book from the moment you signed the contract. Therefore, they don’t want to have to release your rights back to you. They will, though, if you are too much trouble to deal with. And that publisher will soon forget your name, the title of your book, and probably your angry words about their company because they have moved on and are taking other stories as good or better than yours.
You, on the other hand, are probably still seeking a publisher who can put up with your demands, because you believe your book is worth special treatment. Eventually, you will decide that publishers aren’t for you and self publish. Unless you have the deep pockets necessary to do all the things you want from professional cover artists, editors, proofreaders, and copy readers, you will soon discover why having a publisher wasn’t all that bad after all.

Spotlight ~ Maighread MacKay!

Out of Control Characters welcomes Maighread MacKay, a Solstice author from Canada.
About the Author:
Maighread MacKay is an author and visual artist from the Greater Toronto Area in Ontario, Canada.  She is a member of the Writer’s Community of Durham Region (WCDR), and the PRAC (Pine Ridge Arts Council).
Her publishing credits include three books for children:   Bedtime Treasures, The Mysterious Door and the Crystal Grove written under the name of Margaret L. Hefferman. Her novel Stone Cottage is her first foray into adult literature and will be released by Solstice Publishing on September 8, 2015. Her story “Being Santa” was accepted for publication in the 2015 Soup for the Soul: Merry Christmas which will release in October of this year. She has also published articles for a variety of magazines, including most recently, the Durham Region online magazine – More 2 Life 4 Women and the WCDR publication Word Weaver.





Blurb:
Victoria Anne McBride is dead, mourned and buried. Unfortunately, she doesn’t see it that way and refuses to move on. There’s something she needs to tell her husband, Will. Until she does, she will wait for his return to their home, Stone Cottage. For as long as it takes, she will wait...wait...wait.
Rebecca Wainwright is a 21stcentury woman. Determined, her world is perfect and in control. Just the way she likes it. Tragedy strikes and she descends into chaos. Trying to heal, she searches for a sanctuary...a place of her own, away from the burdensome concern of her family and best friend. A place where she can lick her wounds without anyone watching. She stumbles across a lovely stone home located off the beaten path and feels completely at home, as if she’d been there before. Why is she so drawn to this place? How can it help her to heal?
Perhaps, Annie can help.





Reviews:
I found myself so into the story, so into the characters that I cried with them.   I enjoyed the author's weave of time and relationships that are not bound by cognitive constructs but longings of the heart.  This is a good reminder that second chances are often given to reconcile such human foibles that tear apart the self's own world, in ways we can only imagine...and they are imagined in this book.  A good read. – R. Davies
Stone Cottage is the story of a successful privileged young woman who, through a series of tragedies, is forced to face her personal demons.....her journey takes her through the traditional and the non-traditional healing pathways.  Both her explorations and ultimately her discoveries keep the reader riveted.....a tale almost impossible to put down.....MacKay  has woven her magic once again.....kudos. – L. Beauchamp







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Spotlight ~ Heidi Mason!

Out of Control Characters welcomes new author, Heidi Mason. Her premier novel, Investigating the Heart will intrigue fans of Romantic Suspense!
About the Author:
Heidi Renee Mason always knew she would be an author. Heidi is passionate about writing, and writes fiction, as well as poetry. In her spare time, Heidi enjoys music, genealogy, all things Celtic, and chick flicks. A native of the Midwest, Heidi now resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and three daughters. Investigating the Heart is Heidi’s debut novel. 



Blurb:
After the death of her husband in a plane crash, Emma McCoy, a single mom of three, has given up on love. When she meets Liam O’Reilly, an FBI agent who is new in town, the chemistry is immediate. Emma tries to keep her distance, but Liam is determined to win her over. As the two navigate their feelings, Emma’s resolve begins to crumble. What Emma doesn’t know is that Liam is connected to her past in a way that she could never have imagined, and this connection could put their future in jeopardy. In the small town of Beckland, Ohio, danger is the last thing that Emma expects. However, since Liam’s arrival, it seems like peril is waiting around every corner. 




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Cover Reveal ~ The Beach House

Today, Out of  Control Characters welcomes Deborah Melanie, an author of romance with sugar and spice. We’re revealing the cover for her upcoming release: The Beach House, with a touch of the fun that will be in this book…





About the Author:


Deborah Melanie is the wife of a retired, semi-professional footballer. She is a mother, designer, reviewer, and published author.Deborah’s stories are contemporary; often combining her interests in the paranormal, comedy, and food. She loves to write both sweet and erotic romance, hence her tagline: Sugar and Spice Romance.Deborah is a keen photographer who loves to be creative. She has designed many book covers in the past, both for independent authors and for a large publishing house.



Blurb:
What could possibly happen when two work colleagues meet moonlight, champagne and the sound of the surf at a magical beach house? 
London solicitors Raine and Greg are working in California for a month. It could be the perfect opportunity for shy Raine to finally come clean about her attraction towards her colleague. Enigmatic Greg is the perfect English gentleman and a conscientious solicitor. Can a new and sensual environment open up a whole new world for them both? 

 

Winter's Spirit, Vivian's Vampire ,The Good Girl, and Don't Speak; available from Solstice Publishing.




Teaching Darcie and The Beach House coming soon.


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Spotlight on Simone Salmon!

Years of deception and suppressed trauma do not prevent secrets from unraveling when parallel worlds clash, intertwining families and exposing hidden agendas.  An unwanted romance mirrored in an alternate universe has devastating consequences for an unsuspecting young woman and a mysterious stranger. “There is a vast literary intellect behind Camille and The Bears of Beisa: Drafnel, and it belongs to author Simone Salmon. The language is transfixing, bewitching, erupting into that realm between an epic poem of breakneck pace, and the clarity and rigor of an after-action report meant only for a general’s eyes. This story operates in many rich dimensions. It reads like a graphic novel, but without need of illustrations, as the events explode like fireworks in the mind’s eye. What an amazing piece of writing!”Robert Blake Whitehill, Screenwriter, Author
The Ben Blackshaw Series, 
Robert Blake Whitehill 

Here’s what the crtics are saying about Drafnel:"The structure and some of the themes of the book reminded me of the movie The Fountain, which I adored. This idea of the same person persisting in different forms across time and space, mostly through the power of deep emotional connection to other people, really connected the two pieces in my mind.""Salmon’s use of folktales and specific stories to build out the structure of this unfamiliar world, and to link it back to Camille’s story, was a brilliant narrative device.""Drafnel is Dune-like in the grandiose sweep of its worldbuilding. The sci-fi universe Salmon creates, Narvina, with its eight ruling clans and ornate power structures was intriguing. It was also refreshing to read a great space opera like this where the people in charge are people of color, and where the universe is a matriarchy." BR Sanders, Clatter and Clank

Excerpt 1:
Narvina, Nu-century 2055
Aknanka clamps down with all her might. Her teeth tear into Sephia’s wrinkled skin, digging for chunks of flesh. They only grind against bone. A fist smashes into her cheek, jerking her head sideways. Sephia yanks her hand away right before Aknanka chomps down again. Blood gushes everywhere.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Aknanka’s scream rages through the interior, punching a small dent into the door. It slams shut.
Any experimenting she needs to conduct today will be done right here. And without blindfolds. The metal restraints chafe Aknanka’s wrists as she wriggles around for freedom.
“Stop fighting, Dreamer. You make this harder than it has to be.”
“Bet you’ll think before trying that again, oh Wise One!” Aknanka’s aim is accurate. Bloody sputum soils the middle of Sephia’s tunic.
A med-bot enters the room and stitches the bandages over Sephia’s wound. The pale Elder clenches her fists. Her eyes blaze to match the blood staining the floor. The med-bot’s front panel flashes, absorbing the charge from Sephia’s quelled anger. Sparks bounce across the overloaded circuits. The bot spins over to the sealed porthole and then powers down.
“These gene markers will soon confirm our suspicions, Dreamer.” Sephia’s shoulders stiffen, tugging at the hood to expose her protruding frontal lobe. Her white skull magnifies in the dimness. Her lips never move.
Na-mum Camille warned Aknanka that the Elders would spare no sympathy once they discover her true kinsatah. She followed every painstaking instruction: the implants are undetectable, even from their host. 


Author Bio:

Simone Salmon, a Jamaican born New Yorker, is the mother of two sons and a Jack Russell terrier.  Simone is still working on her exit strategy from Corporate America, but in the meantime she writes novels, poetry and expands her multisensory perceptions. She is also a spiritual truth seeker who appreciates psychic phenomena and timelessness.  Music of all kinds, warm weather, lounging on the beach, and experiencing the unknown are just a few of her most favorite things.









Excerpt 2:
Jamaica, 20th Century
The food on display and the brilliant dyes of the hand-loomed textiles hanging at the market made me homesick. The marketplace crowded with vendors selling varied crafts and wares. The frenzied pitch of the hagglers echoed under the tin roofs. Voluptuous women wearing multi-colored wraps balanced huge straw baskets on cornbraided heads, while children darted through stalls with jaws stuffed of toffee candy or juggled melting snow cones with syrup-stained hands. Fruits ripening in the heat sweetened the layer of jerk pork and chicken charring over coals inside huge metal drums.
At first Miss Mattie kept me close, but as the market became more crowded her clenched fingers slackened. I searched the aisles, worried about returning home empty-handed. Failing to find any spices, I started making my way back to Miss Mattie and then noticed a young woman with a basket tucked between her knees. Loose braids stuck out from under her head scarf. Kind hazel eyes invited me forward. Curious, I bent over to check out the samples. The woman pulled me closer and stuffed a piece of cloth into my waistband.
“A gift from the Goling family, Miss. Put it in safe-keeping. This has been my honor.”
Miss Mattie swooped in at my heels in a matter of seconds. She sniffed the air several times and shoved me away from the vendor’s stall. We left thirty minutes later, my impatience to unwrap the cloth’s contents shielded.
Unpacking the supplies, I started dinner. Then, while the meal simmered, I sneaked to my room and pulled out the puffed packet. Wrapped inside were five cinnamon sticks. My smile must have been a mile wide. I decided to add them to my hideaway after Miss Mattie left for church that Sunday.
As my guardian angel instructed, I wrapped a small piece under the ribbon tied around my braid. I noticed Miss Mattie’s immediate reaction. Her harsh tone gentled and she even allowed me to eat with her at the dining table. A welcomed change, my nerves were still on guard, unsure of how long Miss Mattie’s tolerance would last. Against my better judgment, I decided to ask about Caleb and Cassandra.
“Miss Mattie, do you think I can visit with my sister and brother sometime soon?”
Growling, Miss Mattie cocked her head and then swung around to face the door. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Her head snapped back as she sniffed the air.
“Why are you sitting at this table?”
I warned you, Grandmother. Leave the table now!
Miss Mattie’s neck protruded as her limbs extended. Fingers mutated into claws and hind legs ripped through her lower extremities. Wiry tufts of hair sprouted all over her body. Her face contorted and elongated as saliva slimed down enlarged jowls. My hand stifled the scream roaring through my head.
Get up and walk away slowly. Do not turn your back on it. Now!

Jamaica, 20th Century
The food on display and the brilliant dyes of the hand-loomed textiles hanging at the market made me homesick. The marketplace crowded with vendors selling varied crafts and wares. The frenzied pitch of the hagglers echoed under the tin roofs. Voluptuous women wearing multi-colored wraps balanced huge straw baskets on cornbraided heads, while children darted through stalls with jaws stuffed of toffee candy or juggled melting snow cones with syrup-stained hands. Fruits ripening in the heat sweetened the layer of jerk pork and chicken charring over coals inside huge metal drums.
At first Miss Mattie kept me close, but as the market became more crowded her clenched fingers slackened. I searched the aisles, worried about returning home empty-handed. Failing to find any spices, I started making my way back to Miss Mattie and then noticed a young woman with a basket tucked between her knees. Loose braids stuck out from under her head scarf. Kind hazel eyes invited me forward. Curious, I bent over to check out the samples. The woman pulled me closer and stuffed a piece of cloth into my waistband.
“A gift from the Goling family, Miss. Put it in safe-keeping. This has been my honor.”
Miss Mattie swooped in at my heels in a matter of seconds. She sniffed the air several times and shoved me away from the vendor’s stall. We left thirty minutes later, my impatience to unwrap the cloth’s contents shielded.
Unpacking the supplies, I started dinner. Then, while the meal simmered, I sneaked to my room and pulled out the puffed packet. Wrapped inside were five cinnamon sticks. My smile must have been a mile wide. I decided to add them to my hideaway after Miss Mattie left for church that Sunday.
As my guardian angel instructed, I wrapped a small piece under the ribbon tied around my braid. I noticed Miss Mattie’s immediate reaction. Her harsh tone gentled and she even allowed me to eat with her at the dining table. A welcomed change, my nerves were still on guard, unsure of how long Miss Mattie’s tolerance would last. Against my better judgment, I decided to ask about Caleb and Cassandra.
“Miss Mattie, do you think I can visit with my sister and brother sometime soon?”
Growling, Miss Mattie cocked her head and then swung around to face the door. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Her head snapped back as she sniffed the air.
“Why are you sitting at this table?”
I warned you, Grandmother. Leave the table now!
Miss Mattie’s neck protruded as her limbs extended. Fingers mutated into claws and hind legs ripped through her lower extremities. Wiry tufts of hair sprouted all over her body. Her face contorted and elongated as saliva slimed down enlarged jowls. My hand stifled the scream roaring through my head.
Get up and walk away slowly. Do not turn your back on it. Now!

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Press:
Clatter And Clank Fiction by BR Sanders 
Spotlight on Alex McGilvery's World 
Feature on Tevis Shokdra - Dystopian Author 
Review by Merrill Chapman - Rule-Set.com 
Spotlight on Books and Blondes - John E. Guzzardo 
Spotlight on Get In John's Head 
Spotlight on Tales Of A Bookworm - Jaelyn Quisel 
Spotlight on The Dark Geisha - Eden Royce 
Spotlight on Gloria Weber's Blog 
Feature on the Mysterious Inkspot - Rachel Stapleton 
Interview With BR Sanders 
Interview on the Naked Soul Talk Show with Salil Jha (coming in October 2015)
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Camille And The Bears of Beisa - Drafnel




 

Teaser Tuesday ~ Vicki-Ann Bush ~ Room 629

About the Author:
For many years I wrote but never submitted. In 2008, I started sending in to various publishers on the suggestions of my two daughters. The first positive response was from Salt of the Earth Publishing. My earlier work started with children books—Winslow Willow the Woodland Fairy and The Queen of It. I have since settled into writing young adult fiction. My first release was the novelette/novella series, The Dusk Chronicles. It is a supernatural romance set in Las Vegas.Currently, from Solstice Publishing, I have a historical romance novel, The Garden of Two and the paranormal romance novella, The Fulfillment. My latest book, Room 629, is my first Sci-Fi and my third partnership with Solstice. .


Blurb:
            Jesse Marshall and her friends just wanted a weekend getaway. After four years of college, cramming sessions, late night book vigils and the epiphany of finally knowing what you want to do with your life—or not, they needed a few days to let go and relax. Forty-five minutes away from their home town of Las Vegas, Primm Nevada, was close enough for their limited schedule and a few days of celebration.
            But their carefree weekend quickly crumbles after they witness a young woman standing in the the middle of a casino, screaming and bloodied. After security takes her away, the friends begin to unravel a mystery that none of them were prepared for and a horror that would change everything.             


Excerpt:
            Caleb, Micah and Patrick. We had just graduated the University of Nevada in Las Vegas. Everyone but Patrick, that is. He needed to go to summer school to finish his required credits, too much partying and not enough book time had finally caught up with him and he was scrambling to get his degree in Anthropology. Patrick wanted to be a forensic pathologist, a solid profession, but one he hadn’t quite committed to. His dad was breathing down his neck and if he wanted tuition paid for the next four years of med school, then he needed to get serious real fast. I thought it was time for us to take him away. Damn, we all needed to go on a little getaway across the Nevada desert, before we had to become serious about adulthood.  We had to just let loose, pull out all the stops, you know live the cliché  Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Technically it was Primm Nevada, but you get the idea.            I’m Jessie Marshall, average height, average weight and average student. I went to college to major in drama. I thought if I became an actress maybe I could transform this average person into something a little more interesting. But as it turns out, I didn’t really like the whole process. Now don’t get me wrong. I love being on stage, the lights, the sets, the audience. It makes you forget who you are and become anyone you want to be. But there’s the auditions and the rejection and just the whole mess that comes before the actual performance. I didn’t have the stomach for it. So midway through school, I decided to change my major. I’m proud to say, I graduated with a degree in hotel management. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go to cosmetology school, they seem to make okay money and they get to pick their own hours.            Micah is my best friend. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. On the first day of school, she punched Jeffrey Deninger in the arm for teasing me about my lunch box. Granted it was ninja turtles but I thought it was cool and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Micah is beautiful, tall, lean and very smart. She could easily try out for America’s Next top Model and give those girls a run for their money, but her interests are more of the brain than the face. She loves children, so next semester she starts her new job as a science teacher for Ira J. Earl elementary school, where we met. Talk about full circle.               We got to know Caleb and Patrick in our first year at UNLV. Caleb was in Micah’s math class and Patrick had taken drama to broaden his chances of meeting another queen.Yes, Patrick is as gay as they come and loves everything about himself, which is okay, because there’s a lot about him too love. He’s kind and generous with his friends and he’s the least judgmental guy I know. When I wanted to switch mid gear and drop drama for business, he stood by me and never asked why. He just said, “As long as you’re happy.”            At first Micah had an enormous crush on Caleb, who wouldn’t? He’s 6’2 with sandy brown hair and light blue eyes. His body looks as if Michelangelo himself could have carved it and his smile can melt your heart. Unfortunately it wasn’t long before Micah realized she lacked a certain kind of equipment to get his gander up. So we decided to introduce Caleb to Patrick. They’ve been together ever since. I was pretty proud of my successful love connection—too bad I couldn’t have the same luck with my own romantic endeavors.            I’ve been dating Gideon Cooper now for about three years. He’s above average height, slender build with medium brown hair and light brown eyes. He bares a striking resemblance to the actor Patrick Swayze, from his Dirty Dancing era. Minus the captivating dance moves. No, really—Gideon can't dance.            He says he loves me and I’m the only one for him. But his love for himself sometimes over rules his feelings for me, and that’s where my dilemma lies. Now don’t get me wrong. I can be a pain in the ass just like the next person. But I believe that if you love someone and I mean truly love them, there is no one else for you on the planet. You share one soul, split apart until you find each other. Then melting together, whole once again. Your life, becomes each other’s life.
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Profile Pictures

One of the more important things we need when we create social media sites as authors is a profile picture. There are a few things you need to remember about this element, so you don’t make a grievous mistake.
First, decide if you want to pay the money to visit a professional photographer to have your picture done, or have someone you know catch you in an active situation. Both of these options are good, but you have to remember that if cost is a factor, find a person who knows how to take a good picture so that you look your best.
As in any picture used to advertise something, you need to ensure that you look your best. Hair neatly styled, clothes that aren’t ripped and torn, or obviously too large or small. And smile. Always have a big, natural smile—as if you’re enjoying what’s going on and aren’t aware that your picture is being taken. Makeup is good, but in small doses. Now is not the time to experiment with the unusual colors or weird looks. Above all, be yourself.
Once you have the pictures done and in your computer, ensure they fit the limitations posed by some sites. You may have to play with cropping to find the best shot and upload that.
One thing you should never do is have a picture that makes it look like your mugshot was just taken. The started deer in the headlights expression, a cinder block wall behind you, and tension in your muscles are a dead giveaway that you didn’t want this picture taken and makes it appear your image should be listed in the latest edition of Busted.
Another thing to avoid is selfie errors. Not that a selfie isn’t a good profile pic, but avoid the duck lip pose or attempting to take the picture in your bathroom. Neither shot presents a good image of you as the professional author.
One last thing to remember—update your picture every few years. We all change as we get older. You certainly don’t want a picture where everything screams “I just graduated high school” or “that look is so ten years ago.” Those pictures might get comments at your book signing of “I expected someone younger” or “You look nothing like your picture. Are you sure you’re the author?”
The profile picture can give you a lot of publicity. Ensure yours is the best it can be.

Spotlight on Gloria Weber!

Out of Control Characters welcomes Solstice Publishing author, Gloria Weber today. Gloria is new to Solstice, but she already has two books available.


About the Author:
Gloria Weber lives in Ohio with her husband, son, daughter, and many pets. She has been writing for publication since March 2006 with over a dozen titles published. Her favorite color is purple.



Blurb ~ Alicia: Leon has decided it is better to remain silent and accused of Alicia’s murder than admit the truth. The truth, well… that’s so unbelievable it’s crazy.  Not that Detective Dorndorf believes a word that comes out of Leon’s mouth. Dorndorf just wants a confession and figures dragging Leon to the last spot Alicia was seen might just pry it out of him.  Will the detective’s plan work or will the truth come out?


Buy Links:
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Solstice Publishing



Blurb ~ Sunless:
The dark hides things. Threatening things. Dangerous things. Sitting in the windowless box of the detention room, Madison’s worst fears are realized as darkness grips her school.



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