Jan Romes's Blog, page 20
June 1, 2013
One false move...
Happy to share a small snippet from -
STAY CLOSE, NOVAC! Adrenaline pumped through Jessi with as much velocity as gale force winds and she got an instant headache. While she rubbed her temples she did some erratic pacing from the back door to the front door to the bathroom, waiting for the slightest sound that would indicate she was under siege. The same helpless feeling that plagued her in New York had returned. The only difference was instead of being surrounded by millions of New Yorkers, she was isolated on a lonely stretch of beach where no one would stumble across her until the stench of decomposition attracted attention. A worse thought played across her mind – what if Ian and the fancy pants thug turned her into a shark snack? Oh God! She thought about her parents. While they drove her up a wall with their constant bickering, she still loved them and didn’t want them to suffer the pain of losing their only child.
Well, she wouldn’t go down easy. She wrung her hands and tried to come up with a brilliant plan.
She needed an equalizer.
A quick rummage through the kitchen drawers produced a mountain of plastic spoons. Great. Ian Alexander and his accomplice better watch out. One false move and they’d be pulling plasticware from their ribs. Jessi groaned. If you'd like to read more about Jessi and Ian, you can find their story here: Amazon
May 17, 2013
A Chat With Melodie Ramone!
I'm delighted to have author, Melodie Ramone, on my blog today!
Welcome, Melodie!
Melodie, you have some excellent reviews for your book, After Forever Ends. Can you pick one or two comments from those reviews that made you grin from ear to ear?
Reviews are an odd thing for me. They send me into a tizzy. I really try not to read them. LOL I mean, I do read them. How does an author not crave feedback? But I always go cold inside and kind of don't want to look. Nobody wants to write something that someone else is going to hate. I've been lucky because the vast majority of my reviews have been positive. One of my favorites, though, is where the opening paragraph reads:
"I have once heard of a quotation saying that while ordinary people live only once, a reader lives many lifetimes. I never really grasped the true meaning of this statement before this book. After reading it I feel like I have lived an entire lifetime. I have lived, laughed, loved and cried along with the characters in this book that felt so real that I actually miss them now." -- Pavarthy
And this one by Alice Anne: "This was such an amazing generational love story...not just between husband and wife, but among all family members and those that loved them. I felt like I knew every character personally, and they stayed true to themselves throughout the entire novel."
I love when I know I successfully brought somebody into that wonderful family, and transported them into that magical little world in the Welsh wood. I love that the reader lived another life, even for a little while. It's what writing is all about to me.
I noticed in your Author notes on Amazon that you said, After Forever Ends, was a labor of love. Can you share a little about that?
Absolutely! If you've read After Forever Ends, you'd never guess that it was written during one of the darkest periods of my life. The main character makes a point to focus on the positive, which was something that I desperately needed to do at the time. It started as a challenge to write a love story, but it took on a life all of its own. What began as a simple story of boy meets girl became something deeply personal, and I soon found myself interweaving my own life with elements of fiction and swirling them together with experiences that were both mine and those of people close to me. I had no idea when I began how intense it was going to become or how much of my soul I was going to pour into it, but I did. I reached down deep and pulled up things I thought I'd dealt with, brought people back to life who I'd never had the chance to finish things with. It set me free in more ways than I can count.
You've live in some great places -- Scotland, Wales, the U.S. -- is there one particular place in any of these countries that qualifies as your happy place? (meaning, when you need a respite from writing or just life in general, you close your eyes and go to...?)
Oh, my gosh, yes! Wales. At the same time I say that, a voice from deep inside my heart cries, "Scotland!" But I live in the U.S., so...yeah, I'm displaced. I've always been torn. Having more than one home does that, it sort of splinters you so you always feel like you need to be in more than one place at a time. So, let me put it this way. I love my life where I am, yet Scotland is home to me, but my heart is in Wales, which is why I chose it for the location of After Forever Ends. It's the happiest place I ever was, so it was easy to convey the peace and joy I felt there in my book.
When you're not writing or tending to your family, what do you like to do?
I'm a mega-super nerd. I spend a lot of time reading non-fiction books and journals having to do with things like Physics and Photonics. I don't watch a lot of TV, but when I do it's always something on Science Channel or History or Discovery. Aside from that, I read everything else I can find, too. Fiction, DIY, History, Biographies...I'm not very picky as long as I learn something. I love to learn. I live to learn. When I'm not fueling my brain, I'm usually painting, doing embroidery, whipping up culinary masterpieces in my very unattractive kitchen, roller skating with my kids, or knitting. I'm also learning to make jewelry. Oh, and I'm a homeschool teacher, so I grumble a lot about curriculum and moan about having to grade workbooks. I'm just terribly exciting, let me tell you. Stand too close to me and you'll get windblown!
Are you currently plotting or writing your next book?
I am. Right now, I'm still in the getting to know the characters phase. I thought one thing was going to be the story, so I dove right in and then the main character slammed on the proverbial brakes, waved a finger in my face, and said, 'Uh-uh-uh!' Now I know it's a totally different story than I thought. Sigh. So I don't know the details yet, but that's all good with me. I never start a story with a plot. I start with a character and he/she tells me what happened to them. Then I take their voice and run with it as far as it takes me.
What aspect of writing is the easiest for you? The hardest?
The easiest thing for me is getting into a groove. Once I know the character's voice and I can tune into that, the story just flows. Most of the time, I keep it to a minimum. I didn't do that with After Forever Ends. Silvia, the main character, is a talker, so I let her talk. The story wouldn't have been true if I hadn't. She's telling everything in retrospect to her granddaughter. Ever met a grandma who doesn't tell you all kinds of things you didn't ask to know once she gets rolling? Yeah, me, either! Haha! So there was Silvia, chattering away, and I wrote it all down. I love it when I get into that kind of a groove.
Now, for the hardest part of writing. The hardest part of writing for me is definitely the beginning. Where to start, how to capture a reader's attention, how to make somebody want to keep reading...it's tough for me. Figuring out how much back story to put in and where to put it, worrying about giving too much information too quickly...it makes me insane! Someone told me once that the most terrifying thing in the world is a blank page. I don't know if it's terrifying, but it's sure frustrating! Hee. But once I get to chapter two, the rest is gravy.
If you could pick one author to sit and have a cup of coffee with to discuss books or writing, who would it be?
Dorothy Parker. Could you imagine having a cup of coffee with her? I imagine she would be something like my grandmother was. A woman light years ahead of her time, unintimidated by others, unashamed of who she is, and unafraid of her own abilities and intelligence. Maybe she'd be a bit crusty, but hey...it's a messy world. Once we get out there and our hands get stained, aren't we all?
What is the best advice you could offer an aspiring writer?
Write. No matter what "they" say about how your ideas are unimportant or how you're wasting your time or how nobody will ever read it, write anyway. Write constantly. Write inside your head when you're driving your car. Scribble on napkins at the coffee shop. Listen to your inner voice closely and write, write, write. Write the truth. Write lies. Take revenge on your enemies with a pen. Put it down. Fall in love with the perfect person. Relive an unbelievable moment. Write it. Write it all. And when your hands are sore, write some more. Because you are who you are, you have survived all you have and you have a story to tell. You have a voice. Use it. And don't ever let anybody, especially your own self, silence you. Never give up. Never compromise. Never surrender. Write. Write. Write.
We would love to hear more about, After Forever Ends. Could you share a blurb and an excerpt?
Here's the short blurb:
Simple yet extraordinary, told with wit and candor, Silvia recalls a life of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. As she unravels the tangled web of her days, she reveals the secrets that exist in an ancient wood, how hearts given freely can become the stuff of magic, and how true happiness was never any farther than her own back garden.
** I love the beginning of Chapter Two where Silvia begins to tell the story of her and Oliver. Keep in mind, the book is more of a "life story" than a traditional "love story". But love is there, right from the go, surrounding her and influencing her every breath. And this is how her tale began:
Excerpt, Chapter Two, After Forever Ends:
I don't honestly remember a day before I met Oliver Dickinson. I think my life must have started right then on my arrival to Bennington College, the boarding school my father decided to send me to that year. I had been boarding since I was seven and, to be be honest, I quite preferred it to the summers I spent sitting around our cottage in Edinburgh having to be perfectly quiet while Dad was working. Boarding school was much more fun than home. I always had at least two friends every year to spend time with and no one bothered me for wandering off alone to study. I was most happy about being at Bennington, actually, because there were both boys and girls who attended. At fifteen years old, I was rather interested in boys after having gone to an all girls' school for the last eight years.
Anyway, my first day I was sitting on a stone bench in the second quad reviewing my afternoon schedule. Schools are always the same. You can tell each and every clique from the next by the looks of them. I had always been quiet and spent much of my time observing those around me. At Bennington, the athletes were all clean cut, shirts tucked in, hair respectably short for the lads and pulled back in barrettes for the girls, who stood rather more boyishly than they should have in their skirts. The brainy kids were all in a huddle beside the statue of a woman walking with a book in her hand and were talking excitedly and waving their schedules at each other. The princesses all stood together in a tight circle and distinguished themselves from the rest by their sparkling barrettes, perfect make up, expensive bags, and manicured hands. The princes were the same, sans make up and sparkling barrettes. They all wore the same expression on their faces as if they smelled something horrible. The misfits, which were the crowd I always fell into, were spotted here and there, individuals who weren't really interested in what was happening around them, but were more involved in taking in the warm rays of the sun. I was watching one of them...a girl, blonde, who was holding a bottle of water in one hand while trying to open her purse without spilling her drink inside. I was wondering why she didn't just put down the bottle when...THUNK! Something that felt like a stone hit me on the back of my head.
"Oh! Ow!"
"Oh, great galloping grey goats!" A loud voice came from behind me as a figure rushed around to my front. I had my hands over the back of my head deciding if I were injured or just surprised when I realised a boy had put an arm around me in apology, "I am so sorry! I've hit you with the ball! I smacked it right at you, I did! I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I looked up and I swear time stopped. It was not that he was the most traditionally handsome boy I had ever seen, although I can't say he wasn't attractive. He was simply out-and-out adorable, so bloody cute he immediately made my insides wiggle. He was one of the misfits, I surmised instantly, and a popular one at that. He had a long neck from which hung a loosened black tie and the top two buttons of his white uniform shirt were undone. His dark brown hair was an intentional mess, obviously kept just short enough to meet regulations at the school. I noticed straight away he hand nice skin, a smooth, olive complexion, even though there was a small nick on his chin from having shaved. He had a straight nose, high set cheekbones, and, I glanced at his hand where he was still holding my arm, long fingers and a very gentle touch. I peeked back up at him and he blinked as my eyes met his, looking at me as if he knew me from a time long ago and was shocked to see me again so soon. Neither of us knew what to say.
"No." I answered suddenly, moving my hand from the back of my head. My mouth had gone dry. "No...I mean...no...I just...no, not at all..."
"Sorry?" He was amused, still keeping his eyes locked with mine, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He stood straight and peered down at me with his head cocked as if he wasn't sure what to do. We were lost in an odd moment set apart from time and trying to find our way back to where we had started. "No what?"
"I mean...no. I'm not hurt. Not at all. I'm fine. I'm just...I'm..." He grinned at me crookedly and I felt my face flush as I returned the smile. "I'm just Silvia," I said finally, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm just Silvia Cotton and I'm just fine, thank you."
He took my hand in his and held it for a second without shaking it. He just sort of let the weight of it fall against his palm and kept looking at me with that sideways grin. He could have had the devil inside of him with all the mischief of that little smile, but it was too sweet to belong to anything more than an ornery angel. It was at that moment he spoke that I noticed that he had two dimples, one on the left cheek and one on the chin, and that his lashes were long and black. His eyes were the exact colour of baking chocolate melted in a silver bowl, but they sparkled in the sunlight, "I'm Just Oliver Dickinson," he told me brightly. "It's nice to meet you, Just Silvia Cotton. Sorry about that, you know. I hope I didn't tick you off."
"No." I started giggling like a mental, like the girls you see in films making fools of themselves, but it seemed perfectly OK since he was still smiling. "I'm not ticked off."
"Not hurt and not ticked off. Just Silvia. Just Silvia Cotton, eh?" He sat beside me on the bench. It was a few more seconds before he released my hand. "You're new here. What year are you?"
"Fifth year."
"Ah, me as well. We're bound to have loads of courses together." He glanced at my schedule, which was open on my lap. "Well, maybe not then. You must be clever."
"I get good marks."
"What's that accent?"
"I'm from Scotland."
"Lovely!" He said sincerely. "No other Scots here that I'm aware of, you're the only one! Have you met many people at the school yet?"
"No, I haven't had time. I wasn't here last night. My father dropped me off this morning right after breakfast." I couldn't believe I was actually sitting on a bench having a conversation with him. I was usually very shy, but there was something about him that set me completely at ease. Whether it was the kindness in his eyes or his disarming smile I am still not sure, but whatever it was, I felt I'd known him for a long time and not at all as if we'd just met.
"Oh, well then let me help you meet some." He turned and gave a friendly wave at someone who had just called out a hello to him. "I know everyone at this place for the most part. I've been coming here since I was eleven." He turned back to me. "You'll have to meet my brother, Alexander, first. He's my twin, but don't think we're all that much alike. Only just exactly." He jerked an arm at a group of teenagers across the quad as if to invite them over. I could pick Alexander out from a distance. They could have been the same person. Tall, long limbed and dark haired with a loose tie and his shirt undocked, he gave a short wave of acknowledgement and began to amble toward us. Oliver continued, "The lovely lady beside him is his current flavour of the week, but don't tell her I called her that. She's a nice girl, which is a switch for my brother, lemme tell you! Her name's Sarah Farnsworth. She's rich as the queen and has the brains of a rabbit." The group began to approach, appearing to be a friendly bunch. "And that is Merlyn Pierce, the black kid with the hat on crooked. Nothing bad to say about him, he's a right decent sort. He fancies being an opera singer, but he can't sing. He goes off into the fields and belts out Puccini every so often and clears the sky of birds." He paused to shake his head with a mock frown on his face, then turned his head back to me and grinned. Our eyes locked again for several seconds before he broke away. "The one with the scarf is Lance Crosby." He continued, "He's a fantastic bloke. Alex's and my dorm mate. He actually knitted that scarf himself. Can you believe it? Happy colours, he says! He's quite the quilter from what I gather, too." Oliver looked at me and winked. "Just don't ever mention it to Lance that he's short. In fact, when you greet him, just say, 'Hello! You're looking quite tall today!'"
I found myself giggling again.
"Everyone," Oliver stood and put his hand on my shoulder, "This is Just Silvia Cotton and she's just fine!"
** You can find, After Forever Ends at:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
If you'd like to follow Melodie's writing and books:
Twitter - https://twitter.com/Melodie_Ramone
Website - www.melodieramone.com
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6540025.Melodie_Ramone
Blog - www.revenge-of-the-ginger.blogspot.com
Amazon author page - http://www.amazon.com/Melodie-Ramone/e/B009OXADDS/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Welcome, Melodie!
Melodie, you have some excellent reviews for your book, After Forever Ends. Can you pick one or two comments from those reviews that made you grin from ear to ear?
Reviews are an odd thing for me. They send me into a tizzy. I really try not to read them. LOL I mean, I do read them. How does an author not crave feedback? But I always go cold inside and kind of don't want to look. Nobody wants to write something that someone else is going to hate. I've been lucky because the vast majority of my reviews have been positive. One of my favorites, though, is where the opening paragraph reads:
"I have once heard of a quotation saying that while ordinary people live only once, a reader lives many lifetimes. I never really grasped the true meaning of this statement before this book. After reading it I feel like I have lived an entire lifetime. I have lived, laughed, loved and cried along with the characters in this book that felt so real that I actually miss them now." -- Pavarthy
And this one by Alice Anne: "This was such an amazing generational love story...not just between husband and wife, but among all family members and those that loved them. I felt like I knew every character personally, and they stayed true to themselves throughout the entire novel."
I love when I know I successfully brought somebody into that wonderful family, and transported them into that magical little world in the Welsh wood. I love that the reader lived another life, even for a little while. It's what writing is all about to me.
I noticed in your Author notes on Amazon that you said, After Forever Ends, was a labor of love. Can you share a little about that?
Absolutely! If you've read After Forever Ends, you'd never guess that it was written during one of the darkest periods of my life. The main character makes a point to focus on the positive, which was something that I desperately needed to do at the time. It started as a challenge to write a love story, but it took on a life all of its own. What began as a simple story of boy meets girl became something deeply personal, and I soon found myself interweaving my own life with elements of fiction and swirling them together with experiences that were both mine and those of people close to me. I had no idea when I began how intense it was going to become or how much of my soul I was going to pour into it, but I did. I reached down deep and pulled up things I thought I'd dealt with, brought people back to life who I'd never had the chance to finish things with. It set me free in more ways than I can count.
You've live in some great places -- Scotland, Wales, the U.S. -- is there one particular place in any of these countries that qualifies as your happy place? (meaning, when you need a respite from writing or just life in general, you close your eyes and go to...?)
Oh, my gosh, yes! Wales. At the same time I say that, a voice from deep inside my heart cries, "Scotland!" But I live in the U.S., so...yeah, I'm displaced. I've always been torn. Having more than one home does that, it sort of splinters you so you always feel like you need to be in more than one place at a time. So, let me put it this way. I love my life where I am, yet Scotland is home to me, but my heart is in Wales, which is why I chose it for the location of After Forever Ends. It's the happiest place I ever was, so it was easy to convey the peace and joy I felt there in my book.
When you're not writing or tending to your family, what do you like to do?
I'm a mega-super nerd. I spend a lot of time reading non-fiction books and journals having to do with things like Physics and Photonics. I don't watch a lot of TV, but when I do it's always something on Science Channel or History or Discovery. Aside from that, I read everything else I can find, too. Fiction, DIY, History, Biographies...I'm not very picky as long as I learn something. I love to learn. I live to learn. When I'm not fueling my brain, I'm usually painting, doing embroidery, whipping up culinary masterpieces in my very unattractive kitchen, roller skating with my kids, or knitting. I'm also learning to make jewelry. Oh, and I'm a homeschool teacher, so I grumble a lot about curriculum and moan about having to grade workbooks. I'm just terribly exciting, let me tell you. Stand too close to me and you'll get windblown!
Are you currently plotting or writing your next book?
I am. Right now, I'm still in the getting to know the characters phase. I thought one thing was going to be the story, so I dove right in and then the main character slammed on the proverbial brakes, waved a finger in my face, and said, 'Uh-uh-uh!' Now I know it's a totally different story than I thought. Sigh. So I don't know the details yet, but that's all good with me. I never start a story with a plot. I start with a character and he/she tells me what happened to them. Then I take their voice and run with it as far as it takes me.
What aspect of writing is the easiest for you? The hardest?
The easiest thing for me is getting into a groove. Once I know the character's voice and I can tune into that, the story just flows. Most of the time, I keep it to a minimum. I didn't do that with After Forever Ends. Silvia, the main character, is a talker, so I let her talk. The story wouldn't have been true if I hadn't. She's telling everything in retrospect to her granddaughter. Ever met a grandma who doesn't tell you all kinds of things you didn't ask to know once she gets rolling? Yeah, me, either! Haha! So there was Silvia, chattering away, and I wrote it all down. I love it when I get into that kind of a groove.
Now, for the hardest part of writing. The hardest part of writing for me is definitely the beginning. Where to start, how to capture a reader's attention, how to make somebody want to keep reading...it's tough for me. Figuring out how much back story to put in and where to put it, worrying about giving too much information too quickly...it makes me insane! Someone told me once that the most terrifying thing in the world is a blank page. I don't know if it's terrifying, but it's sure frustrating! Hee. But once I get to chapter two, the rest is gravy.
If you could pick one author to sit and have a cup of coffee with to discuss books or writing, who would it be?
Dorothy Parker. Could you imagine having a cup of coffee with her? I imagine she would be something like my grandmother was. A woman light years ahead of her time, unintimidated by others, unashamed of who she is, and unafraid of her own abilities and intelligence. Maybe she'd be a bit crusty, but hey...it's a messy world. Once we get out there and our hands get stained, aren't we all?
What is the best advice you could offer an aspiring writer?
Write. No matter what "they" say about how your ideas are unimportant or how you're wasting your time or how nobody will ever read it, write anyway. Write constantly. Write inside your head when you're driving your car. Scribble on napkins at the coffee shop. Listen to your inner voice closely and write, write, write. Write the truth. Write lies. Take revenge on your enemies with a pen. Put it down. Fall in love with the perfect person. Relive an unbelievable moment. Write it. Write it all. And when your hands are sore, write some more. Because you are who you are, you have survived all you have and you have a story to tell. You have a voice. Use it. And don't ever let anybody, especially your own self, silence you. Never give up. Never compromise. Never surrender. Write. Write. Write.
We would love to hear more about, After Forever Ends. Could you share a blurb and an excerpt?
Here's the short blurb:
Simple yet extraordinary, told with wit and candor, Silvia recalls a life of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. As she unravels the tangled web of her days, she reveals the secrets that exist in an ancient wood, how hearts given freely can become the stuff of magic, and how true happiness was never any farther than her own back garden.
** I love the beginning of Chapter Two where Silvia begins to tell the story of her and Oliver. Keep in mind, the book is more of a "life story" than a traditional "love story". But love is there, right from the go, surrounding her and influencing her every breath. And this is how her tale began:
Excerpt, Chapter Two, After Forever Ends:
I don't honestly remember a day before I met Oliver Dickinson. I think my life must have started right then on my arrival to Bennington College, the boarding school my father decided to send me to that year. I had been boarding since I was seven and, to be be honest, I quite preferred it to the summers I spent sitting around our cottage in Edinburgh having to be perfectly quiet while Dad was working. Boarding school was much more fun than home. I always had at least two friends every year to spend time with and no one bothered me for wandering off alone to study. I was most happy about being at Bennington, actually, because there were both boys and girls who attended. At fifteen years old, I was rather interested in boys after having gone to an all girls' school for the last eight years.
Anyway, my first day I was sitting on a stone bench in the second quad reviewing my afternoon schedule. Schools are always the same. You can tell each and every clique from the next by the looks of them. I had always been quiet and spent much of my time observing those around me. At Bennington, the athletes were all clean cut, shirts tucked in, hair respectably short for the lads and pulled back in barrettes for the girls, who stood rather more boyishly than they should have in their skirts. The brainy kids were all in a huddle beside the statue of a woman walking with a book in her hand and were talking excitedly and waving their schedules at each other. The princesses all stood together in a tight circle and distinguished themselves from the rest by their sparkling barrettes, perfect make up, expensive bags, and manicured hands. The princes were the same, sans make up and sparkling barrettes. They all wore the same expression on their faces as if they smelled something horrible. The misfits, which were the crowd I always fell into, were spotted here and there, individuals who weren't really interested in what was happening around them, but were more involved in taking in the warm rays of the sun. I was watching one of them...a girl, blonde, who was holding a bottle of water in one hand while trying to open her purse without spilling her drink inside. I was wondering why she didn't just put down the bottle when...THUNK! Something that felt like a stone hit me on the back of my head.
"Oh! Ow!"
"Oh, great galloping grey goats!" A loud voice came from behind me as a figure rushed around to my front. I had my hands over the back of my head deciding if I were injured or just surprised when I realised a boy had put an arm around me in apology, "I am so sorry! I've hit you with the ball! I smacked it right at you, I did! I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I looked up and I swear time stopped. It was not that he was the most traditionally handsome boy I had ever seen, although I can't say he wasn't attractive. He was simply out-and-out adorable, so bloody cute he immediately made my insides wiggle. He was one of the misfits, I surmised instantly, and a popular one at that. He had a long neck from which hung a loosened black tie and the top two buttons of his white uniform shirt were undone. His dark brown hair was an intentional mess, obviously kept just short enough to meet regulations at the school. I noticed straight away he hand nice skin, a smooth, olive complexion, even though there was a small nick on his chin from having shaved. He had a straight nose, high set cheekbones, and, I glanced at his hand where he was still holding my arm, long fingers and a very gentle touch. I peeked back up at him and he blinked as my eyes met his, looking at me as if he knew me from a time long ago and was shocked to see me again so soon. Neither of us knew what to say.
"No." I answered suddenly, moving my hand from the back of my head. My mouth had gone dry. "No...I mean...no...I just...no, not at all..."
"Sorry?" He was amused, still keeping his eyes locked with mine, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He stood straight and peered down at me with his head cocked as if he wasn't sure what to do. We were lost in an odd moment set apart from time and trying to find our way back to where we had started. "No what?"
"I mean...no. I'm not hurt. Not at all. I'm fine. I'm just...I'm..." He grinned at me crookedly and I felt my face flush as I returned the smile. "I'm just Silvia," I said finally, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm just Silvia Cotton and I'm just fine, thank you."
He took my hand in his and held it for a second without shaking it. He just sort of let the weight of it fall against his palm and kept looking at me with that sideways grin. He could have had the devil inside of him with all the mischief of that little smile, but it was too sweet to belong to anything more than an ornery angel. It was at that moment he spoke that I noticed that he had two dimples, one on the left cheek and one on the chin, and that his lashes were long and black. His eyes were the exact colour of baking chocolate melted in a silver bowl, but they sparkled in the sunlight, "I'm Just Oliver Dickinson," he told me brightly. "It's nice to meet you, Just Silvia Cotton. Sorry about that, you know. I hope I didn't tick you off."
"No." I started giggling like a mental, like the girls you see in films making fools of themselves, but it seemed perfectly OK since he was still smiling. "I'm not ticked off."
"Not hurt and not ticked off. Just Silvia. Just Silvia Cotton, eh?" He sat beside me on the bench. It was a few more seconds before he released my hand. "You're new here. What year are you?"
"Fifth year."
"Ah, me as well. We're bound to have loads of courses together." He glanced at my schedule, which was open on my lap. "Well, maybe not then. You must be clever."
"I get good marks."
"What's that accent?"
"I'm from Scotland."
"Lovely!" He said sincerely. "No other Scots here that I'm aware of, you're the only one! Have you met many people at the school yet?"
"No, I haven't had time. I wasn't here last night. My father dropped me off this morning right after breakfast." I couldn't believe I was actually sitting on a bench having a conversation with him. I was usually very shy, but there was something about him that set me completely at ease. Whether it was the kindness in his eyes or his disarming smile I am still not sure, but whatever it was, I felt I'd known him for a long time and not at all as if we'd just met.
"Oh, well then let me help you meet some." He turned and gave a friendly wave at someone who had just called out a hello to him. "I know everyone at this place for the most part. I've been coming here since I was eleven." He turned back to me. "You'll have to meet my brother, Alexander, first. He's my twin, but don't think we're all that much alike. Only just exactly." He jerked an arm at a group of teenagers across the quad as if to invite them over. I could pick Alexander out from a distance. They could have been the same person. Tall, long limbed and dark haired with a loose tie and his shirt undocked, he gave a short wave of acknowledgement and began to amble toward us. Oliver continued, "The lovely lady beside him is his current flavour of the week, but don't tell her I called her that. She's a nice girl, which is a switch for my brother, lemme tell you! Her name's Sarah Farnsworth. She's rich as the queen and has the brains of a rabbit." The group began to approach, appearing to be a friendly bunch. "And that is Merlyn Pierce, the black kid with the hat on crooked. Nothing bad to say about him, he's a right decent sort. He fancies being an opera singer, but he can't sing. He goes off into the fields and belts out Puccini every so often and clears the sky of birds." He paused to shake his head with a mock frown on his face, then turned his head back to me and grinned. Our eyes locked again for several seconds before he broke away. "The one with the scarf is Lance Crosby." He continued, "He's a fantastic bloke. Alex's and my dorm mate. He actually knitted that scarf himself. Can you believe it? Happy colours, he says! He's quite the quilter from what I gather, too." Oliver looked at me and winked. "Just don't ever mention it to Lance that he's short. In fact, when you greet him, just say, 'Hello! You're looking quite tall today!'"
I found myself giggling again.
"Everyone," Oliver stood and put his hand on my shoulder, "This is Just Silvia Cotton and she's just fine!"
** You can find, After Forever Ends at:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
If you'd like to follow Melodie's writing and books:
Twitter - https://twitter.com/Melodie_Ramone
Website - www.melodieramone.com
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6540025.Melodie_Ramone
Blog - www.revenge-of-the-ginger.blogspot.com
Amazon author page - http://www.amazon.com/Melodie-Ramone/e/B009OXADDS/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
'Of course you're capable, knucklehead...'
New excerpt for ONE SMALL FIB...
Enjoy! (This is Allie Blue's first encounter with billionaire, Kiptyn Thomas) The dark-haired, thirty-something billionaire appeared oblivious to anything except moving through the narrow aisleway with his carry-on. "Please. Let me help you." Allie reached for his bag. His head snapped up and gray-blue eyes hooked onto hers. "I'm quite capable." Of course you're capable, knucklehead, but I have orders to pamper you. Allie dug her teeth into her bottom lip. Kiptyn Thomas settled into his seat without buckling his seatbelt, and Allie wondered if fastening it for him was part of the pamper-package. She shook the thought away. No way. She was not reaching across a broad-shouldered man to secure his seatbelt. "Would you like something to drink, Mr. Thomas?" He hawked her name tag, and in a voice deep with gravel and authority, he said, "You're new." Allie instinctively slinked back a half-step. A momentary ember of interest fired in his eyes, and Allie continued to smile while gritting her teeth. "Having to tell a different person every week what I want or what I need is getting old." His dark, bushy brows dipped together so tight they formed the letter V. "I like things to stay the same. I fly to San Francisco on Monday and return to New York on Wednesday. I want the same plane, the same seat, and the same flight attendant. Is that too much to ask?" A little obsessive-compulsive there, bucko. Allie had listened to the other attendants complain about this gem. Funny how they failed to mention he was also neurotic. "I totally understand," she chirped like his imposing attitude didn't bother her in the slightest. "What would you like to drink?" "Scotch. And stop saying totally. I hate that word." "Yes, sir." Ack. The reality that she had to mollycoddle this privileged philanderer for six long hours made her want to strap on a parachute and jump out over Newark. Or really get in his craw by saying totally every chance she got. Before she hurried to do his bidding, she shot him a congenial smile that said, "Relax, enjoy, I'll be right back." But she made sure her eyes said something different: "Get a life" and she looked directly at him so he could hear what they were saying. On her way to the service area, she questioned the sanity of that look. Why couldn't she ward off the urge to bite back? She pulled in a breath because she knew the answer -- because she was missing the putting-up-with-crap gene, that's why.
Available from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Enjoy! (This is Allie Blue's first encounter with billionaire, Kiptyn Thomas) The dark-haired, thirty-something billionaire appeared oblivious to anything except moving through the narrow aisleway with his carry-on. "Please. Let me help you." Allie reached for his bag. His head snapped up and gray-blue eyes hooked onto hers. "I'm quite capable." Of course you're capable, knucklehead, but I have orders to pamper you. Allie dug her teeth into her bottom lip. Kiptyn Thomas settled into his seat without buckling his seatbelt, and Allie wondered if fastening it for him was part of the pamper-package. She shook the thought away. No way. She was not reaching across a broad-shouldered man to secure his seatbelt. "Would you like something to drink, Mr. Thomas?" He hawked her name tag, and in a voice deep with gravel and authority, he said, "You're new." Allie instinctively slinked back a half-step. A momentary ember of interest fired in his eyes, and Allie continued to smile while gritting her teeth. "Having to tell a different person every week what I want or what I need is getting old." His dark, bushy brows dipped together so tight they formed the letter V. "I like things to stay the same. I fly to San Francisco on Monday and return to New York on Wednesday. I want the same plane, the same seat, and the same flight attendant. Is that too much to ask?" A little obsessive-compulsive there, bucko. Allie had listened to the other attendants complain about this gem. Funny how they failed to mention he was also neurotic. "I totally understand," she chirped like his imposing attitude didn't bother her in the slightest. "What would you like to drink?" "Scotch. And stop saying totally. I hate that word." "Yes, sir." Ack. The reality that she had to mollycoddle this privileged philanderer for six long hours made her want to strap on a parachute and jump out over Newark. Or really get in his craw by saying totally every chance she got. Before she hurried to do his bidding, she shot him a congenial smile that said, "Relax, enjoy, I'll be right back." But she made sure her eyes said something different: "Get a life" and she looked directly at him so he could hear what they were saying. On her way to the service area, she questioned the sanity of that look. Why couldn't she ward off the urge to bite back? She pulled in a breath because she knew the answer -- because she was missing the putting-up-with-crap gene, that's why.
Available from:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
May 8, 2013
'Well-built, shoe-loving, she-devil...'
A LITTLE SNIPPET OF LIGHTHEARTED, ROMANTIC SUSPENSE...
(from:) STAY CLOSE, NOVAC!
Ian dabbed his lip with alcohol. He hadn’t counted on starting his day by falling off a ladder. Fortunately, the wound was nothing more than a bloody scratch. One good thing came of the mishap – Jessi Nordstrom. Wow! She was an eyeful. A disturbing eyeful. Not in the usual way. Instead of soft curves, she was muscular. Small chested. Thin but defined arms. Strong thighs and calves. A tight little butt.
He chuckled at the bead of anger she’d laid on him with violet eyes. Truthfully, he’d never seen eyes quite like them. Maybe they were colored contact lenses. Regardless, she was ready to slice and dice him with them until she discovered his injury. The second she homed in on his lip, she softened. And he liked it. More than liked it.
“Dammit, man, you’re not here to get chummy with the first woman to cross your path.” In fact, he wasn’t there to get chummy with any female. Women were the devil. Instantly a vision of his ex-wife popped into his mind and the f-bomb slid from his lips the way it always did when he thought about her. The well-built, shoe-loving, she-devil who dumped him a year ago for their millionaire neighbor turned his life upside down. Ian groaned. Thinking about Rachel made his chest hurt – probably some long-distance pricking from her damned pitchfork.
His gaze drifted to the bungalow next door. Jessi Nordstrom admitted a love for shoes and clothes too. Ian curled his lip and imagined the brown-haired, violet-eyed beauty with horns. She most likely had a pitchfork she was dying to use too.
Available on Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Stay-Close-Novac-ebook/dp/B0080MKMTE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368038843&sr=8-1&keywords=stay+close%2C+novac%21
(from:) STAY CLOSE, NOVAC!
Ian dabbed his lip with alcohol. He hadn’t counted on starting his day by falling off a ladder. Fortunately, the wound was nothing more than a bloody scratch. One good thing came of the mishap – Jessi Nordstrom. Wow! She was an eyeful. A disturbing eyeful. Not in the usual way. Instead of soft curves, she was muscular. Small chested. Thin but defined arms. Strong thighs and calves. A tight little butt.
He chuckled at the bead of anger she’d laid on him with violet eyes. Truthfully, he’d never seen eyes quite like them. Maybe they were colored contact lenses. Regardless, she was ready to slice and dice him with them until she discovered his injury. The second she homed in on his lip, she softened. And he liked it. More than liked it.
“Dammit, man, you’re not here to get chummy with the first woman to cross your path.” In fact, he wasn’t there to get chummy with any female. Women were the devil. Instantly a vision of his ex-wife popped into his mind and the f-bomb slid from his lips the way it always did when he thought about her. The well-built, shoe-loving, she-devil who dumped him a year ago for their millionaire neighbor turned his life upside down. Ian groaned. Thinking about Rachel made his chest hurt – probably some long-distance pricking from her damned pitchfork.
His gaze drifted to the bungalow next door. Jessi Nordstrom admitted a love for shoes and clothes too. Ian curled his lip and imagined the brown-haired, violet-eyed beauty with horns. She most likely had a pitchfork she was dying to use too.
Available on Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Stay-Close-Novac-ebook/dp/B0080MKMTE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368038843&sr=8-1&keywords=stay+close%2C+novac%21
May 3, 2013
Death Benefits! Catchy title, amazing author! Interview with Sharon Saracino!
Today I welcome author, Sharon Saracino, to my blog! I've read her book, Death Benefits, and loved it so much that I just had to have her on my blog! She's agreed to an interview!
So pour yourself a cup of coffee (or beverage of choice) and enjoy getting to know Sharon!
When writing, Sharon, do you require quiet or do you listen to music?
I know that a lot of writers develop playlists that help to inspire them or put them in the mood for the piece they are working on. While there are songs that might hit the mood for me, I can't listen to music while I'm actually writing...I have a tendency to sing along and chair dance...it's not pretty. Just saying!
What genre(s) do you write?
I'm currently wrangling a contemporary romance, (which you do so well!) but as a rule, most of my writing incorporates some paranormal or supernatural element. I really like being able to bring an alternate reality or weave some myth or legend into the story.
What is your typical day like?
Hmmm...typical day...up at 4:30 a.m., check email, read the paper, check in on Facebook and Twitter, then head out to work by 5:45 a.m. Spend eight hours saving the world, or trying to clear my desk (they're the same thing, right?) then blow out of there by 2:30 p.m. if all goes well. Home to park my butt in front of the computer, check email, check in on Facebook and Twitter, indulge in a little shameless self-promotion, occasionally provide sustenance for the family, then either read or write for a couple of hours.
When you're not writing, what do you like to do?
I love photography and genealogy. I like to cook. Mostly I love to read. There are so many wonderful authors out there whose work I love and admire; there really aren't enough hours in the day. I honestly believe that you can't be a writer unless you are also a reader. There is so much to be learned from great writers who really know how to develop characters, build a clever plot, and put together awesome, awesome stories. To read is to grow.
What advice can you offer aspiring writers?
I'm not sure I've been in the game long enough to give advice, but I guess the most important thing I've learned is to actually write. That may seem obvious, but you can't re-write, revise, or submit anything if you never get it down. I wasted years telling myself that 'someday' I was going to actually finish a book and seek publication. One day I realized that I wasn't getting any younger and 'someday' was going to be here and gone if I didn't stop dreaming and start writing. I also can't say enough about joining writer's groups. I've found other writers to be the most supportive and encouraging group of people out there. Take classes, hone your craft. Whether you've written one book or one hundred, there is always something to learn.
What is your writing routine like?
Oh! You're serious, aren't you? Honestly, I don't really have one, I just fit in writing time wherever I can. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
Are you a plotter or pantser?
Total pantser! I wish I could be more of a plotter. Having an actual direction in mind at the start would probably eliminate many of those pesky and painful periods of banging my head against the wall. But for some reason, it just doesn't work for me. I may try to work out a more organized system for myself at some point, but at the moment I just go with the flow.
You are planning a fun book signing. Can you share the details?
I will tentatively be signing at O'Donnell Winery in Berwick, PA sometime in June. I'll be posting details on my website and my Facebook author page when they become available. There may also be chocolate involved. Books, wine, and chocolate...how can you go wrong?
Can you share tidbits from your new release? Perhaps the blurb and an excerpt?
My debut, DEATH BENEFITS, released from Whiskey Creek Press on May 1, 2013. It can be found on their website, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.
Blurb:
Max Logan's insecurities have consumed her to the point that she has allowed them to skew her perceptions of people and circumstances. She has grown progressively more bitter, sarcastic, and solitary since her divorce and feels as though she has spent a lifetime getting the short end of the stick through no fault of her own; still she trudges on. Things can always get better, right? Of course, it's hard to cultivate optimism when she finds herself dead; the victim of D.I.E. (Death in Error) caused by an overeager Grim Reaper in Training. She brokers a deal to be sent back to Earth as a temporary substitute for the Superintendent of Spiritual Impediment. Can a girl who can't recognize her own problems rectify the issues of the living impaired? Or will she discover that concentrating on their issues gives her a new perspective on her own?
An excerpt:
Sir Chicken Caesar still hadn't moved, nor did he so much as twitch when I tossed my damp tee shirt over him after I peeled it off my sticky body on my way into the bathroom. He has his priorities; sleep being one, food another. I probably fell somewhere near the bottom of the list, only slightly above hairballs.
I stripped down to my thirty-five year old birthday suit, avoiding the full length mirror on the closet door, and yanked open the top dresser to peruse the underwear selection and simply savor the delicious coolness of AC on damp, bare skin. Steak on the patio did not seem to demand Victoria's Secret, then again, nothing in my life these days did, and serviceable cotton Granny panties would be far more practical in the heat. I grabbed a pair from the top of the pile and added shorts and a fresh tank from one of the laundry baskets near the bathroom door. One for clean clothes, one for dirty. Guess which one had the bigger pile? The only household chore I love more than laundry is standing on a chair in the living room and letting the ceiling fan whack me in the head repeatedly.
Thanks so much for having me today, Jan! It's always fun to visit with a wonderful friend who also happens to be a talented author and a funny, funny girl!
Thanks so much for the sweet comments, Sharon, and for sharing a snippet of your amazing talent with us!
** If you would like to continue reading, DEATH BENEFITS, you can find it by clicking any of these three links:
Whiskey Creek Press - http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1108&zenid=cf59bb72c2bba2c2f7f3e6a1f03a3d71
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Death-Benefits-ebook/dp/B00CLRRHUG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367606571&sr=8-1&keywords=death+benefits+by+sharon+saracino
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/death-benefits-sharon-saracino/1115232793?ean=2940016583129
** Here's how you can follow Sharon --
Website: http://SharonSaracino.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Sharon-Saracino-Author/309710765720741
Twitter: @SharonSaracino
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7073851.Sharon_Saracino
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Sharon-Saracino/e/B00CLXDNYO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
So pour yourself a cup of coffee (or beverage of choice) and enjoy getting to know Sharon!
When writing, Sharon, do you require quiet or do you listen to music?
I know that a lot of writers develop playlists that help to inspire them or put them in the mood for the piece they are working on. While there are songs that might hit the mood for me, I can't listen to music while I'm actually writing...I have a tendency to sing along and chair dance...it's not pretty. Just saying!
What genre(s) do you write?
I'm currently wrangling a contemporary romance, (which you do so well!) but as a rule, most of my writing incorporates some paranormal or supernatural element. I really like being able to bring an alternate reality or weave some myth or legend into the story.
What is your typical day like?
Hmmm...typical day...up at 4:30 a.m., check email, read the paper, check in on Facebook and Twitter, then head out to work by 5:45 a.m. Spend eight hours saving the world, or trying to clear my desk (they're the same thing, right?) then blow out of there by 2:30 p.m. if all goes well. Home to park my butt in front of the computer, check email, check in on Facebook and Twitter, indulge in a little shameless self-promotion, occasionally provide sustenance for the family, then either read or write for a couple of hours.
When you're not writing, what do you like to do?
I love photography and genealogy. I like to cook. Mostly I love to read. There are so many wonderful authors out there whose work I love and admire; there really aren't enough hours in the day. I honestly believe that you can't be a writer unless you are also a reader. There is so much to be learned from great writers who really know how to develop characters, build a clever plot, and put together awesome, awesome stories. To read is to grow.
What advice can you offer aspiring writers?
I'm not sure I've been in the game long enough to give advice, but I guess the most important thing I've learned is to actually write. That may seem obvious, but you can't re-write, revise, or submit anything if you never get it down. I wasted years telling myself that 'someday' I was going to actually finish a book and seek publication. One day I realized that I wasn't getting any younger and 'someday' was going to be here and gone if I didn't stop dreaming and start writing. I also can't say enough about joining writer's groups. I've found other writers to be the most supportive and encouraging group of people out there. Take classes, hone your craft. Whether you've written one book or one hundred, there is always something to learn.
What is your writing routine like?
Oh! You're serious, aren't you? Honestly, I don't really have one, I just fit in writing time wherever I can. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
Are you a plotter or pantser?
Total pantser! I wish I could be more of a plotter. Having an actual direction in mind at the start would probably eliminate many of those pesky and painful periods of banging my head against the wall. But for some reason, it just doesn't work for me. I may try to work out a more organized system for myself at some point, but at the moment I just go with the flow.
You are planning a fun book signing. Can you share the details?
I will tentatively be signing at O'Donnell Winery in Berwick, PA sometime in June. I'll be posting details on my website and my Facebook author page when they become available. There may also be chocolate involved. Books, wine, and chocolate...how can you go wrong?
Can you share tidbits from your new release? Perhaps the blurb and an excerpt?
My debut, DEATH BENEFITS, released from Whiskey Creek Press on May 1, 2013. It can be found on their website, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.
Blurb:
Max Logan's insecurities have consumed her to the point that she has allowed them to skew her perceptions of people and circumstances. She has grown progressively more bitter, sarcastic, and solitary since her divorce and feels as though she has spent a lifetime getting the short end of the stick through no fault of her own; still she trudges on. Things can always get better, right? Of course, it's hard to cultivate optimism when she finds herself dead; the victim of D.I.E. (Death in Error) caused by an overeager Grim Reaper in Training. She brokers a deal to be sent back to Earth as a temporary substitute for the Superintendent of Spiritual Impediment. Can a girl who can't recognize her own problems rectify the issues of the living impaired? Or will she discover that concentrating on their issues gives her a new perspective on her own?
An excerpt:
Sir Chicken Caesar still hadn't moved, nor did he so much as twitch when I tossed my damp tee shirt over him after I peeled it off my sticky body on my way into the bathroom. He has his priorities; sleep being one, food another. I probably fell somewhere near the bottom of the list, only slightly above hairballs.
I stripped down to my thirty-five year old birthday suit, avoiding the full length mirror on the closet door, and yanked open the top dresser to peruse the underwear selection and simply savor the delicious coolness of AC on damp, bare skin. Steak on the patio did not seem to demand Victoria's Secret, then again, nothing in my life these days did, and serviceable cotton Granny panties would be far more practical in the heat. I grabbed a pair from the top of the pile and added shorts and a fresh tank from one of the laundry baskets near the bathroom door. One for clean clothes, one for dirty. Guess which one had the bigger pile? The only household chore I love more than laundry is standing on a chair in the living room and letting the ceiling fan whack me in the head repeatedly.
Thanks so much for having me today, Jan! It's always fun to visit with a wonderful friend who also happens to be a talented author and a funny, funny girl!
Thanks so much for the sweet comments, Sharon, and for sharing a snippet of your amazing talent with us!
** If you would like to continue reading, DEATH BENEFITS, you can find it by clicking any of these three links:
Whiskey Creek Press - http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1108&zenid=cf59bb72c2bba2c2f7f3e6a1f03a3d71
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Death-Benefits-ebook/dp/B00CLRRHUG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367606571&sr=8-1&keywords=death+benefits+by+sharon+saracino
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/death-benefits-sharon-saracino/1115232793?ean=2940016583129
** Here's how you can follow Sharon --
Website: http://SharonSaracino.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Sharon-Saracino-Author/309710765720741
Twitter: @SharonSaracino
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7073851.Sharon_Saracino
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Sharon-Saracino/e/B00CLXDNYO/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
April 23, 2013
Bridge Over the Atlantic - by Lisa Hobman
From the land of Sean Connery, bagpipes and kilts, hails contemporary romance author, Lisa Hobman! Lisa is a sweet, high-energy, exciting personality that I'm honored to have on my blog. Today, she's sharing the joy of her debut novel, Bridge Over the Atlantic.
Here's a little bit about Lisa --
Lisa is a happily married Mum of one with two crazy dogs. She especially enjoys being creative; has worked as a singer and now runs her own little craft business where she makes hanging signs and decorations for the home. Lisa and her family recently relocated from Yorkshire, England to their beloved Scotland; a place of happy holidays and memories for them.
Writing has always been something Lisa has enjoyed, although in the past it has centered on poetry and song lyrics. The story in her debut novel has been building in her mind for a long while but until the relocation, she never had the time to put it down in black and white; working full time as a High School Science Learning Mentor and studying swallowed up any spare time she had. Making the move north of the border has given Lisa the opportunity to spread her wings and fulfill her dream. Writing is now a deep passion and she has enjoyed every minute of working towards being published. Novel number two is just about to go through edits so watch this space!
Now on to Lisa's debut novel, Bridge Over the Atlantic!
Blurb:
Mallory Westerman is a full-figured, successful, young business woman living in Yorkshire, England. Though very career minded, she is extremely self conscious about her ample curves and so her love life tends to pay the price. Concentrating solely on her business, she has almost given up on finding someone to love. That is until she literally trips into the arms of a stranger who becomes her Knight in shining armour. The immediate sexual and romantic spark that blossoms into love and the events that follow, irrevocably change Mallory's life-path and self-image forever, but only go to prove that the road to true love is never smooth and that things don't always turn out how you expect...
Excerpt:
January 2011 "You can NOT be serious?" Mallory Westerman recoiled. It wasn't a habit of hers, to inadvertently quote 1980's sports stars. But even she was surprised when she heard John McEnroe's words fall from her lips. Thankfully, her fiance, while obviously bemused at her reaction and frustrated by her lack of enthusiasm, didn't really notice the similarities between her and the wiry haired tennis supremo. He was much too busy stroking the print-out in front of him, on the table, as if ironing out the creases would make his suggestion a more viable proposition. "Honey, imagine the life we could have there right now," he pleaded. "The open spaces, the fresh air-..." "The midge bites, the lack of internet connection, no other civilisation for miles." She rudely interrupted. She immediately felt guilty when Sam's eyes took on the appearance of a scolded puppy dog. She slid her arms around his neck caressing the sides of his beautiful face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just don't see me...either of us, really, taking to a permanent life out in the middle of goodness knows where at this point in our lives, surrounded by sheep and wearing wellies and Tweeds!" "Now you are being terribly stereotypical and insulting to all things countryside, Mallory," Sam chastised in his Canadian drawl. "And besides, I think you'd look very fetching in wellies...just wellies that is, nothing else." He grabbed her playfully and squeezed her. His green eyes flashed with a mischievousness Mallory had come to adore. She giggled and gazed up at him, lovingly recalling the first time she had found herself utterly mesmerised by him. ~~~~~~ December 2009 Mallory had lived in Yorkshire all the twenty-eight years of her life. Since dropping out of her PR course at Uni, through sheer laziness, she had endured a run of soulless jobs. Nothing ever really pushed her buttons. That was until an inheritance from her dear Aunt Sylvia had given her the opportunity to do the one thing she truly wanted to do. Her little gift emporium, Le Petit Cadeau. It had been the brain child of her Aunt many years before, when Mallory had taken to making her own Christmas gifts one year when, as was the case on more than one dreadful occasion, unemployment occurred on the brink of the festive season. She had sobbed and sobbed when the solicitor informed her that her Aunt had left her the large sum of money under strict conditions that she was to, 'get off her backside and do something fulfilling for once!' She remembered almost laughing aloud at the point when the solicitor had uttered the quote directly as her Aunt had written it. Even in death, feisty Sylvia knew how to draw a chuckle from her beloved niece. It was a fairly quiet early December Wednesday in Leeds, well perhaps quiet was not the right way to put it. The city centre was the usual bustling metropolis, but the Victoria Quarter was, ostensibly, being given a somewhat brief reprieve from the usual barrage of festive shoppers. Mallory huffed as she watched a swooning couple canoodling whilst browsing in the window of the lingerie boutique. "Sod this for a game of soldiers. I think I need a break," she informed one of the cute, jointed, Steiff teddy bears sitting, looking pensive on the shelf next to where she perched. "I reckon there is a tall, caramel macchiato with my name on it somewhere!" Grabbing her oversized bag she chalked Back in 20 mins on her very own, handmade door sign. Once she had dropped the latch she headed out into the sea of suited business people and Christmas shoppers. She smirked at the vast number of pre-school children who were sporting cheap red Santa hats lovingly procured for them, she guessed, by harassed parents as bribery for good behaviour. The paved precinct area was buzzing. Mallory loved Leeds City Centre with its designer boutiques and quirky shops. At this time of year, however, there was something transcendent about the atmosphere. Maybe it was the twinkling lights strung from building to building or the way that each and every shop was decked in sparkling silvers and gregarious gold. The myriad Christmas songs, being played in numerous outlets all out of synch with one another, were an assault on the senses. The stalls all laid out, down the centre of the precinct, were vying for the attention of passers-by with their brightly coloured gifts and trinkets. A delicious aroma of roast chestnuts wafted through the chilled air and into Mallory's nostrils making her tummy grumble. She rounded the corner heading for her favourite coffee shop when suddenly she involuntarily lurched forward. Her stiletto heel had become lodged in between two paving slabs, sending her and her belongings, hurtling into the arms of a passing stranger. "Whoaaaa there!" The startled man grabbed for Mallory, in a bid to stop her inevitable collision with the pavement. "We haven't been formally introduced and yet here you are throwing yourself at me!" He laughed. His accent was noticeably of the North American variety. ** If you would like to read more of Mallory and Sam's story, you can find it here: 5 Prince Books -- www.5princebooks.com/buy.htmAmazon UK -- http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1939217431Amazon.com -- http://amzn.com/B00C6IXU38Smashwords -- http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/302321Barnes and Noble -- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bridge-over-the-atlantic-lisa-j-hobma/1114985177?ean=2940016632056 To follow Lisa and her writing career, you can find her at: Website - www.lisajhobman.co.ukBlog - http://glipho.com/livingscottishdTwitter - https://twitter.com/LivingScottishDFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/#!/LisaJHobmanAuthor Amazon author page - http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-J.-Hobman/e/B00C27D7KY/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
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Here's a little bit about Lisa --Lisa is a happily married Mum of one with two crazy dogs. She especially enjoys being creative; has worked as a singer and now runs her own little craft business where she makes hanging signs and decorations for the home. Lisa and her family recently relocated from Yorkshire, England to their beloved Scotland; a place of happy holidays and memories for them.
Writing has always been something Lisa has enjoyed, although in the past it has centered on poetry and song lyrics. The story in her debut novel has been building in her mind for a long while but until the relocation, she never had the time to put it down in black and white; working full time as a High School Science Learning Mentor and studying swallowed up any spare time she had. Making the move north of the border has given Lisa the opportunity to spread her wings and fulfill her dream. Writing is now a deep passion and she has enjoyed every minute of working towards being published. Novel number two is just about to go through edits so watch this space!
Now on to Lisa's debut novel, Bridge Over the Atlantic!
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Blurb:
Mallory Westerman is a full-figured, successful, young business woman living in Yorkshire, England. Though very career minded, she is extremely self conscious about her ample curves and so her love life tends to pay the price. Concentrating solely on her business, she has almost given up on finding someone to love. That is until she literally trips into the arms of a stranger who becomes her Knight in shining armour. The immediate sexual and romantic spark that blossoms into love and the events that follow, irrevocably change Mallory's life-path and self-image forever, but only go to prove that the road to true love is never smooth and that things don't always turn out how you expect...
Excerpt:
January 2011 "You can NOT be serious?" Mallory Westerman recoiled. It wasn't a habit of hers, to inadvertently quote 1980's sports stars. But even she was surprised when she heard John McEnroe's words fall from her lips. Thankfully, her fiance, while obviously bemused at her reaction and frustrated by her lack of enthusiasm, didn't really notice the similarities between her and the wiry haired tennis supremo. He was much too busy stroking the print-out in front of him, on the table, as if ironing out the creases would make his suggestion a more viable proposition. "Honey, imagine the life we could have there right now," he pleaded. "The open spaces, the fresh air-..." "The midge bites, the lack of internet connection, no other civilisation for miles." She rudely interrupted. She immediately felt guilty when Sam's eyes took on the appearance of a scolded puppy dog. She slid her arms around his neck caressing the sides of his beautiful face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just don't see me...either of us, really, taking to a permanent life out in the middle of goodness knows where at this point in our lives, surrounded by sheep and wearing wellies and Tweeds!" "Now you are being terribly stereotypical and insulting to all things countryside, Mallory," Sam chastised in his Canadian drawl. "And besides, I think you'd look very fetching in wellies...just wellies that is, nothing else." He grabbed her playfully and squeezed her. His green eyes flashed with a mischievousness Mallory had come to adore. She giggled and gazed up at him, lovingly recalling the first time she had found herself utterly mesmerised by him. ~~~~~~ December 2009 Mallory had lived in Yorkshire all the twenty-eight years of her life. Since dropping out of her PR course at Uni, through sheer laziness, she had endured a run of soulless jobs. Nothing ever really pushed her buttons. That was until an inheritance from her dear Aunt Sylvia had given her the opportunity to do the one thing she truly wanted to do. Her little gift emporium, Le Petit Cadeau. It had been the brain child of her Aunt many years before, when Mallory had taken to making her own Christmas gifts one year when, as was the case on more than one dreadful occasion, unemployment occurred on the brink of the festive season. She had sobbed and sobbed when the solicitor informed her that her Aunt had left her the large sum of money under strict conditions that she was to, 'get off her backside and do something fulfilling for once!' She remembered almost laughing aloud at the point when the solicitor had uttered the quote directly as her Aunt had written it. Even in death, feisty Sylvia knew how to draw a chuckle from her beloved niece. It was a fairly quiet early December Wednesday in Leeds, well perhaps quiet was not the right way to put it. The city centre was the usual bustling metropolis, but the Victoria Quarter was, ostensibly, being given a somewhat brief reprieve from the usual barrage of festive shoppers. Mallory huffed as she watched a swooning couple canoodling whilst browsing in the window of the lingerie boutique. "Sod this for a game of soldiers. I think I need a break," she informed one of the cute, jointed, Steiff teddy bears sitting, looking pensive on the shelf next to where she perched. "I reckon there is a tall, caramel macchiato with my name on it somewhere!" Grabbing her oversized bag she chalked Back in 20 mins on her very own, handmade door sign. Once she had dropped the latch she headed out into the sea of suited business people and Christmas shoppers. She smirked at the vast number of pre-school children who were sporting cheap red Santa hats lovingly procured for them, she guessed, by harassed parents as bribery for good behaviour. The paved precinct area was buzzing. Mallory loved Leeds City Centre with its designer boutiques and quirky shops. At this time of year, however, there was something transcendent about the atmosphere. Maybe it was the twinkling lights strung from building to building or the way that each and every shop was decked in sparkling silvers and gregarious gold. The myriad Christmas songs, being played in numerous outlets all out of synch with one another, were an assault on the senses. The stalls all laid out, down the centre of the precinct, were vying for the attention of passers-by with their brightly coloured gifts and trinkets. A delicious aroma of roast chestnuts wafted through the chilled air and into Mallory's nostrils making her tummy grumble. She rounded the corner heading for her favourite coffee shop when suddenly she involuntarily lurched forward. Her stiletto heel had become lodged in between two paving slabs, sending her and her belongings, hurtling into the arms of a passing stranger. "Whoaaaa there!" The startled man grabbed for Mallory, in a bid to stop her inevitable collision with the pavement. "We haven't been formally introduced and yet here you are throwing yourself at me!" He laughed. His accent was noticeably of the North American variety. ** If you would like to read more of Mallory and Sam's story, you can find it here: 5 Prince Books -- www.5princebooks.com/buy.htmAmazon UK -- http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1939217431Amazon.com -- http://amzn.com/B00C6IXU38Smashwords -- http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/302321Barnes and Noble -- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bridge-over-the-atlantic-lisa-j-hobma/1114985177?ean=2940016632056 To follow Lisa and her writing career, you can find her at: Website - www.lisajhobman.co.ukBlog - http://glipho.com/livingscottishdTwitter - https://twitter.com/LivingScottishDFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/#!/LisaJHobmanAuthor Amazon author page - http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-J.-Hobman/e/B00C27D7KY/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
April 22, 2013
At that moment...
At that moment, realization dawned. Alex was the fire she’d been longing for – the one who stoked desire to unimaginable heights – the one who made feeling uninhibited as natural as the air she breathed.
From: Stella in Stilettos
April 13, 2013
Sometimes you have to break the rules; sometimes you have to break them wearing stilettos!
We all have unique ways of coping when life tosses us a grenade! We either catch the live munition, hurl it away and move on, or...we run for cover until the danger has passed.
In STELLA IN STILETTOS , Stella Matson chooses the latter. She runs for cover for almost a year.
This is a story about learning to trust again and lowering your fences so love can find a way in. It's also about the things you do for friendship, that you normally wouldn't even consider. (And of course, it's about doing it all in stilettos!)
Blurb:
Stella Matson has had it with handsome guys who schmooze their way into a woman's heart and walk out the door when they get a better offer. As far as she's concerned, she needs to focus on the one thing that won't leave her teary-eyed on a Friday night -- her job with the lingerie company. That plan goes horribly awry when drop-dead gorgeous, Alex Clay, is temporarily assigned to her department. He both frustrates and excites her, turns her into a klutz, and she's afraid her heart is once again in real danger.
Alex Clay is trying to find his place in the business world. His boss seems to be grooming him for big things by giving him a taste of everything from the mailroom to the boardroom. When he does a short stint in the advertising department and meets hardheaded but intriguing, Stella Matson, she challenges his convictions and stirs an unwanted desire. He doesn't know whether to kiss her until they're both breathless, or find a new job.
Will Stella and Alex act on the attraction sizzling between them? Or will they extinguish it with doubt, mistrust, and a belief that they should not get involved with someone they work with?
Excerpt:
(In this scene, Stella and Alex bump into each other outside the office. Stella and her best friend, Trish, are enjoying a drink at their favorite bar when Stella's ex shows up and once again she wants to run for cover. Alex and his friend, Steve, enter the bar and a rescue of sorts takes place.)
"Weasel-alert," Trish said, looking past Stella to the front of the bar.
Stella sipped from her glass of wine. "What?"
Trish's animated expression sobered. "Don't look behind you."
Saying don't look was the same as saying look. Curiosity always won. Stella was on her way to turning around.
Trish stopped her with a stern look. "Seriously. Don't. It's Jace."
Almost a year and the mention of his name still induced a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Stella instinctively lowered her head as though it would throw an imaginary veil over her. "Tell me he walked back out. Lie to me. Anything."
"Wish I could."
Stella groaned quietly, but the volume-control on her pulse cranked up. She was sure the whole place could hear it thumping in her chest. The breath caught in her lungs. "He didn't see us, did he?"
Trish shook her head. "I don't think so, but it's a matter of time because he's scanning the place." She described him with some pretty strong cuss words.
Stella couldn't sit still. "Why did he pick this place?"
"Uh-oh," Trish whispered. "Breathe. He's not here for you." She wrinkled her nose. "But who knows, maybe he is."
Stella squinted. "That's calming."
"Sorry. Trying to loosen you up before he descends on us."
"Jace spotted Trish and worked his way through the crowd. "Trish O'Brien."
Trish's exaggerated sneer said "Hello, scumbag" but her mouth said, "Well, if it isn't Jace Fairchild."
Stella wanted to slither under the table so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with Jace. It was a tiny booth, so the only thing fitting under the table was her feet. She felt the infidel's eyes bore into her. She didn't want to acknowledge him. Not now. Not ever. Doing so would give him the power to rip the duct tape off that was holding her heart together.
"Stella. How the heck are you?"
His voice rumbled the contents of Stella's stomach. She couldn't say his name. "I'm just peachy. Couldn't be better." She drowned the lie with a significant swig from her wine glass.
"It's been forever. Where've you been? Hiding out?"
Jackass. Of course she'd been hiding out. It was the natural thing to do when someone makes a complete fool out of you.
She wanted to karate-chop him in the neck, or at least pour hot wax on his eyebrows and then rip them off. His brainless question deserved a brainless answer. "Armadillos have four babies at a time and they're all the same sex."
Trish sputtered in her margarita.
Jace looked dumbfounded. "What?"
Trish nudged her under the table. "Oh my gosh, Stella, look who's here." She nodded toward the door.
Good ploy, Trish! Keep the diversions coming, no matter how bizarre.
"Your honey just walked in."
My honey? Okay. Not sure they could pull that one off. Stella checked her watch to strengthen the story, plus she pretended to be irked. "It's about time." She looked to where Alex Clay and Steve Benson stood brushing snow off their jackets.
Stella's eyes flew to Trish's, where she recognized an appeal to play along.
How could she? This was Alex. She couldn't play along when it involved him. Besides, she was already on emotional-overload from Jace. If she missed a cue and did something foolish, she might have a need to go back into...hiding. Grr.
She glanced at Jace who was sizing up the two men.
Trish flew out of the booth and practically ran to Alex and Steve.
Stella tried to gauge their expressions when Trish approached. What would Trish say? Ack! She wanted to guzzle her glass of wine.
"How long have you two been dating?" Jace asked.
There was a hint of jealousy in his voice that was wickedly satisfying.
She would love to spout that they'd been together for almost a year so Jace wouldn't think she wasted time grieving their breakup, but she was afraid to squander a lie that could possibly take a chomp out of her butt later. "A few months."
Alex took a step away from Trish and linked gazes with Stella.
Dang. Now what? Impetuously she blew him a kiss and then mentally thrashed herself for doing something so ridiculous.
Jace yanked her attention back to him. "Can't wait to meet the guy."
Stella swallowed hard. Soon she'd be exposed as a fraud...to both men.
Trish came back arm-in-arm with Alex and Steve. "They got held up in traffic." She and Steve slid into the booth. Alex didn't hesitate sliding in beside her.
The heat of embarrassment colored Stella's face when their gazes connected. There was something indescribable in his eyes. Anger, perhaps? Was he ticked about participating in a sham? Or were she and Trish kinking a trolling expedition?
Stella didn't have time to figure it out because Alex pulled her over to him and brushed his lips across hers.
"Sorry we're late, hon. I thought I'd be clever and take a shortcut. All I managed to do thought was land us smack dab into backed-up traffic. Must've been an accident or something around Third and Broad Streets."
Stella was blown away. She smiled with complete affection; to her surprise, it wasn't an act. "No worries. We haven't been here long."
A curl fell across her cheek and Alex tucked it behind her ear. He was about to say something, but Jace coughed to nab their attention.
"So you're the new man in Stella's life." He held his hand out to shake Alex's. "I'm Jace."
Alex didn't rush to divulge his name or acknowledge the gesture. "Yes," he finally said. "Stella's my woman."
Stella widened her eyes. Trish crossed hers.
Jace nodded to Stella. "You've got a treasure there."
A treasure? Stella eyed her ex suspiciously and waited for the slam she knew would come.
Alex clasped her hand under the table and kneaded the top of it with his thumb. He looked at Stella instead of Jace. "I certainly do."
This was all for show, but his words warmed and calmed Stella.
Jace wasn't about to let her stay calm. He patted Alex on the shoulder. "I messed up when I let her go." He raised both brows. "I didn't realize what I had. She was a little inhibited, and like a fool, I went looking for someone who was open to anything. If you know what I mean."
Stella was instantly mortified and wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow her. She ventured a shocked look at Trish, who was also stunned by the brainless statement. Everyone knew inhibited meant uptight in bed.
Salty tears burned the back of her eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry. She had to repeat that over and over to hold off the tears.
"Inhibited? Are you sure you're talking about my Stella?" Alex laughed maniacally.
Trish followed his lead. So did Steve. They hooted like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.
Stella still wanted to cry, but from joy. Alex, Steve and Trish had her back. They were shoring her up and it was the most wonderful thing.
Alex stopped laughing long enough to gather her in his arms. "This woman's a freak."
Stella couldn't believe how she went from being inhibited to a freak, but she couldn't be happier. She dropped her eyes to her lap to get her emotions under control. Don't look up. Don't look up. If she caught Trish's eye, the game was over.
Alex lifted her chin to make her look at him. At the same time, he brought her hand to his lips. "We try something new every day." He turned her hand over to expose her palm. After a mischievous lift of his brow, he trailed his tongue across it.
Tingles of excitement riveted to every clothed and unclothed part of her body, and an inescapable sound of pleasure worked its way out. Stella felt lightheaded.
The ruse worked. Jace was intimidated. He talked so fast his words ran together. "It was good seeing you, Stella. I have to go."
He was long gone before Stella came down to earth.
Trish put her hand up to give Stella a high-five. "That moan was priceless."
That moan was real. Stella closed her eyes for a second to stabilize. Running into her ex had been a test. She failed parts of it, others she passed with flying colors -- like knowing for certain she was completely over him. "Thanks, guys." She put her hand over her heart. "I don't know how to repay you."
"We have a debt settlement all worked out." Trish said excitedly. She turned to Steve. "By the way, I'm Trish."
Steve perked with amusement. "Steve Benson."
Stella looked from Trish to Steve to Alex, and offered a grin. "What are the terms of the agreement?"
Trish winked at Alex. "Could you fellas give us a minute?" She waited until they were at the bar before she leaned across the table. "Here's the gist of it. We're hanging out with these stud muffins for awhile."
It sounded too simple, and easily payable. "That's it?"
"Yep. You aren't exactly cozy with Alex, but I had to make a decision. Put up with Jace or put up with Alex."
"You did good, Trish. Thank you."
"And damn, Stella. Steve Benson is a hunk." Trish made a sizzling sound.
Stella turned to see where the guys were. "Be careful, Trish. He's nice, but he's also a big flirt. A real womanizer."
"You're preaching to the choir, honey. We'd be perfect for each other." Trish almost fell out of the booth while surveying Steve. "Six feet of pure hotness. Did I mention blond men are the bomb?"
"Every day since kindergarten." Stella put her hand on Trish's. "Seriously, be careful."
Trish sparkled with challenge. "Taming him will be fun."
Stella giggled at Trish's lack of fear and turned to take a good look at Alex. He was the bomb too.
Her pulse climbed a few dreamy notches and her saliva glands kicked into high-gear. She'd been too consumed by Jace's presence to realize Alex had a casual-look going on. He'd transformed himself from an upward-bound professional to a scrumptious bad-boy with tattered jeans and a slightly worn leather jacket. This less-than-perfect look made him look completely perfect, and Stella decided Trish wasn't the only one who needed to be careful.
(The folder that contains the rough outline, scraps of paper with juicy tidbits and ideas, sticky notes and everything that eventually became, Stella in Stilettos!)
Thank you so much for stopping by my blog to read about Stella. I hope you have enjoyed this scene from my book. If you'd like to catch the rest of the story it is available at:
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Stella-in-Stilettos-ebook/dp/B00C90GOTK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365866384&sr=8-1&keywords=stella+in+stilettos
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stella-in-stilettos-jan-romes/1115062749?ean=2940016546445
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/304017
In STELLA IN STILETTOS , Stella Matson chooses the latter. She runs for cover for almost a year.
This is a story about learning to trust again and lowering your fences so love can find a way in. It's also about the things you do for friendship, that you normally wouldn't even consider. (And of course, it's about doing it all in stilettos!)
Blurb:
Stella Matson has had it with handsome guys who schmooze their way into a woman's heart and walk out the door when they get a better offer. As far as she's concerned, she needs to focus on the one thing that won't leave her teary-eyed on a Friday night -- her job with the lingerie company. That plan goes horribly awry when drop-dead gorgeous, Alex Clay, is temporarily assigned to her department. He both frustrates and excites her, turns her into a klutz, and she's afraid her heart is once again in real danger.
Alex Clay is trying to find his place in the business world. His boss seems to be grooming him for big things by giving him a taste of everything from the mailroom to the boardroom. When he does a short stint in the advertising department and meets hardheaded but intriguing, Stella Matson, she challenges his convictions and stirs an unwanted desire. He doesn't know whether to kiss her until they're both breathless, or find a new job.
Will Stella and Alex act on the attraction sizzling between them? Or will they extinguish it with doubt, mistrust, and a belief that they should not get involved with someone they work with?
Excerpt:
(In this scene, Stella and Alex bump into each other outside the office. Stella and her best friend, Trish, are enjoying a drink at their favorite bar when Stella's ex shows up and once again she wants to run for cover. Alex and his friend, Steve, enter the bar and a rescue of sorts takes place.)
"Weasel-alert," Trish said, looking past Stella to the front of the bar.
Stella sipped from her glass of wine. "What?"
Trish's animated expression sobered. "Don't look behind you."
Saying don't look was the same as saying look. Curiosity always won. Stella was on her way to turning around.
Trish stopped her with a stern look. "Seriously. Don't. It's Jace."
Almost a year and the mention of his name still induced a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Stella instinctively lowered her head as though it would throw an imaginary veil over her. "Tell me he walked back out. Lie to me. Anything."
"Wish I could."
Stella groaned quietly, but the volume-control on her pulse cranked up. She was sure the whole place could hear it thumping in her chest. The breath caught in her lungs. "He didn't see us, did he?"
Trish shook her head. "I don't think so, but it's a matter of time because he's scanning the place." She described him with some pretty strong cuss words.
Stella couldn't sit still. "Why did he pick this place?"
"Uh-oh," Trish whispered. "Breathe. He's not here for you." She wrinkled her nose. "But who knows, maybe he is."
Stella squinted. "That's calming."
"Sorry. Trying to loosen you up before he descends on us."
"Jace spotted Trish and worked his way through the crowd. "Trish O'Brien."
Trish's exaggerated sneer said "Hello, scumbag" but her mouth said, "Well, if it isn't Jace Fairchild."
Stella wanted to slither under the table so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with Jace. It was a tiny booth, so the only thing fitting under the table was her feet. She felt the infidel's eyes bore into her. She didn't want to acknowledge him. Not now. Not ever. Doing so would give him the power to rip the duct tape off that was holding her heart together.
"Stella. How the heck are you?"
His voice rumbled the contents of Stella's stomach. She couldn't say his name. "I'm just peachy. Couldn't be better." She drowned the lie with a significant swig from her wine glass.
"It's been forever. Where've you been? Hiding out?"
Jackass. Of course she'd been hiding out. It was the natural thing to do when someone makes a complete fool out of you.
She wanted to karate-chop him in the neck, or at least pour hot wax on his eyebrows and then rip them off. His brainless question deserved a brainless answer. "Armadillos have four babies at a time and they're all the same sex."
Trish sputtered in her margarita.
Jace looked dumbfounded. "What?"
Trish nudged her under the table. "Oh my gosh, Stella, look who's here." She nodded toward the door.
Good ploy, Trish! Keep the diversions coming, no matter how bizarre.
"Your honey just walked in."
My honey? Okay. Not sure they could pull that one off. Stella checked her watch to strengthen the story, plus she pretended to be irked. "It's about time." She looked to where Alex Clay and Steve Benson stood brushing snow off their jackets.
Stella's eyes flew to Trish's, where she recognized an appeal to play along.
How could she? This was Alex. She couldn't play along when it involved him. Besides, she was already on emotional-overload from Jace. If she missed a cue and did something foolish, she might have a need to go back into...hiding. Grr.
She glanced at Jace who was sizing up the two men.
Trish flew out of the booth and practically ran to Alex and Steve.
Stella tried to gauge their expressions when Trish approached. What would Trish say? Ack! She wanted to guzzle her glass of wine.
"How long have you two been dating?" Jace asked.
There was a hint of jealousy in his voice that was wickedly satisfying.
She would love to spout that they'd been together for almost a year so Jace wouldn't think she wasted time grieving their breakup, but she was afraid to squander a lie that could possibly take a chomp out of her butt later. "A few months."
Alex took a step away from Trish and linked gazes with Stella.
Dang. Now what? Impetuously she blew him a kiss and then mentally thrashed herself for doing something so ridiculous.
Jace yanked her attention back to him. "Can't wait to meet the guy."
Stella swallowed hard. Soon she'd be exposed as a fraud...to both men.
Trish came back arm-in-arm with Alex and Steve. "They got held up in traffic." She and Steve slid into the booth. Alex didn't hesitate sliding in beside her.
The heat of embarrassment colored Stella's face when their gazes connected. There was something indescribable in his eyes. Anger, perhaps? Was he ticked about participating in a sham? Or were she and Trish kinking a trolling expedition?
Stella didn't have time to figure it out because Alex pulled her over to him and brushed his lips across hers.
"Sorry we're late, hon. I thought I'd be clever and take a shortcut. All I managed to do thought was land us smack dab into backed-up traffic. Must've been an accident or something around Third and Broad Streets."
Stella was blown away. She smiled with complete affection; to her surprise, it wasn't an act. "No worries. We haven't been here long."
A curl fell across her cheek and Alex tucked it behind her ear. He was about to say something, but Jace coughed to nab their attention.
"So you're the new man in Stella's life." He held his hand out to shake Alex's. "I'm Jace."
Alex didn't rush to divulge his name or acknowledge the gesture. "Yes," he finally said. "Stella's my woman."
Stella widened her eyes. Trish crossed hers.
Jace nodded to Stella. "You've got a treasure there."
A treasure? Stella eyed her ex suspiciously and waited for the slam she knew would come.
Alex clasped her hand under the table and kneaded the top of it with his thumb. He looked at Stella instead of Jace. "I certainly do."
This was all for show, but his words warmed and calmed Stella.
Jace wasn't about to let her stay calm. He patted Alex on the shoulder. "I messed up when I let her go." He raised both brows. "I didn't realize what I had. She was a little inhibited, and like a fool, I went looking for someone who was open to anything. If you know what I mean."
Stella was instantly mortified and wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow her. She ventured a shocked look at Trish, who was also stunned by the brainless statement. Everyone knew inhibited meant uptight in bed.
Salty tears burned the back of her eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry. She had to repeat that over and over to hold off the tears.
"Inhibited? Are you sure you're talking about my Stella?" Alex laughed maniacally.
Trish followed his lead. So did Steve. They hooted like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.
Stella still wanted to cry, but from joy. Alex, Steve and Trish had her back. They were shoring her up and it was the most wonderful thing.
Alex stopped laughing long enough to gather her in his arms. "This woman's a freak."
Stella couldn't believe how she went from being inhibited to a freak, but she couldn't be happier. She dropped her eyes to her lap to get her emotions under control. Don't look up. Don't look up. If she caught Trish's eye, the game was over.
Alex lifted her chin to make her look at him. At the same time, he brought her hand to his lips. "We try something new every day." He turned her hand over to expose her palm. After a mischievous lift of his brow, he trailed his tongue across it.
Tingles of excitement riveted to every clothed and unclothed part of her body, and an inescapable sound of pleasure worked its way out. Stella felt lightheaded.
The ruse worked. Jace was intimidated. He talked so fast his words ran together. "It was good seeing you, Stella. I have to go."
He was long gone before Stella came down to earth.
Trish put her hand up to give Stella a high-five. "That moan was priceless."
That moan was real. Stella closed her eyes for a second to stabilize. Running into her ex had been a test. She failed parts of it, others she passed with flying colors -- like knowing for certain she was completely over him. "Thanks, guys." She put her hand over her heart. "I don't know how to repay you."
"We have a debt settlement all worked out." Trish said excitedly. She turned to Steve. "By the way, I'm Trish."
Steve perked with amusement. "Steve Benson."
Stella looked from Trish to Steve to Alex, and offered a grin. "What are the terms of the agreement?"
Trish winked at Alex. "Could you fellas give us a minute?" She waited until they were at the bar before she leaned across the table. "Here's the gist of it. We're hanging out with these stud muffins for awhile."
It sounded too simple, and easily payable. "That's it?"
"Yep. You aren't exactly cozy with Alex, but I had to make a decision. Put up with Jace or put up with Alex."
"You did good, Trish. Thank you."
"And damn, Stella. Steve Benson is a hunk." Trish made a sizzling sound.
Stella turned to see where the guys were. "Be careful, Trish. He's nice, but he's also a big flirt. A real womanizer."
"You're preaching to the choir, honey. We'd be perfect for each other." Trish almost fell out of the booth while surveying Steve. "Six feet of pure hotness. Did I mention blond men are the bomb?"
"Every day since kindergarten." Stella put her hand on Trish's. "Seriously, be careful."
Trish sparkled with challenge. "Taming him will be fun."
Stella giggled at Trish's lack of fear and turned to take a good look at Alex. He was the bomb too.
Her pulse climbed a few dreamy notches and her saliva glands kicked into high-gear. She'd been too consumed by Jace's presence to realize Alex had a casual-look going on. He'd transformed himself from an upward-bound professional to a scrumptious bad-boy with tattered jeans and a slightly worn leather jacket. This less-than-perfect look made him look completely perfect, and Stella decided Trish wasn't the only one who needed to be careful.
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(The folder that contains the rough outline, scraps of paper with juicy tidbits and ideas, sticky notes and everything that eventually became, Stella in Stilettos!)Thank you so much for stopping by my blog to read about Stella. I hope you have enjoyed this scene from my book. If you'd like to catch the rest of the story it is available at:
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Stella-in-Stilettos-ebook/dp/B00C90GOTK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365866384&sr=8-1&keywords=stella+in+stilettos
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/stella-in-stilettos-jan-romes/1115062749?ean=2940016546445
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/304017
April 12, 2013
Amber Easton - new release, Reckless Endangerment
Today, Amber Easton is visiting my blog to celebrate the release of her new novel --
RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT!
I've asked her to tell us a little bit about her awesome book!
In my new release, Reckless Endangerment, I'm taking a bit of a risk. I'm taking on the issues of PTSD in war veterans and human trafficking in the United States. Gee, sounds romantic, right? Actually, it is. An epic love story between Hope Shane, the fearless reporter, and Colonel Michael Cedars, a wounded war hero, is the main storyline.
That's the trick with writing romantic suspense. There not only needs to be a balance between mystery and a great love story, the storylines need to mesh.
Sometimes as writers, no matter our genre, we need to push the envelope by incorporating real world issues into our fictional work. Post-traumatic stress disorder is an authentic issue that soldiers deal with when returning home from war. Human trafficking is also a serious issue, often underreported in this country (and the world).
Using fiction to spotlight issues isn't a new concept at all, just turn on television or go to the movies for daily examples. Most writers do it, in one way or another. When writing this way, though, especially in the romance genre, it's important to keep our characters' motivation the top priority. It's still entertainment, after all, not CNN or the Discovery Channel. But, because it is entertainment, it's also important not to sensationalize or demean the subject matter. Imagine walking a tightrope without a net...one misstep in either direction would mean disaster.
Romance is the perfect genre to highlight emotional drama and interplay between human beings. I've heard the scoffs, "oh, you write romance", usually followed by a dismissive shake of the head or an eye roll. But what some people don't understand is that love is truly the cornerstone of life. Relationships define us as human beings. Love is the goal of all of us -- well, I met one guy who thinks money is the goal but I'll check in on him in 20 years.
Combining the struggle of Hope Shane and Colonel Michael Cedars to hold their marriage together in the face of great adversity -- PTSD, partial paralysis and a human trafficking ring -- is the perfect storm, but the love relationship overrides all. Just like real life, right?
Blurb:
Heroes come in many forms -- soldiers who fall and rise, ordinary people doing extraordinary things, women who battle for their marriage, reporters who fight for truth and justice, and men who put it all on the line for the women they love.
Sometimes heroes fall.
Colonel Michael Cedars is a decorated war hero returning home from Afghanistan. Wounded, unsure if he'll walk again, he's not sure how he fits in civilian life, and he definitely questions if he wants to remain married to the feisty redhead, Hope Shane.
Hope's never been one to play it safe. She met the Colonel while working as a war correspondent, fell in love with the man in uniform, watched him get blown up, and isn't willing to give up on him now.
Back in Denver, Colorado, she's working as an investigative reporter who becomes entangled in a human trafficking story. As the danger of her story intensifies, Hope and Michael are tested more than they ever imagined. Will Michael be able to see beyond what he's lost to embrace what remains? Is he still the man she married or has he become a liability that could get her killed? Is he still the hero she claims him to be? Will her reckless pursuit of justice endanger the life they've pieced together?
An excerpt:
"Maybe I need to stop trying to hold on. Maybe you're right." Sighing, her shoulders slumped. "We were this close," she held her fingers an inch apart, "to having a life together when everything blew up in our faces. Literally. What else do I have to lose, right? I already lost my dignity when I begged those damn bureaucrats to let me see you in Germany. And when I say begged, I mean I begged, pleaded, bartered, whatever I could possibly say or do to get in and they told me that you," she pointed at him, "said no, you told them I lied about being married to you. McGee backed you up. I looked like a fool and a liar."
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Now you're doing it again, denying me. You'd rather sit in this place alone than admit to the world that I'm your wife. It's true." She nodded, gaze gluing him in place. "I gave up my everything for you, soldier boy. My life. My pride. My dignity. I gave it all up for you."
"Why?" he choked out the question. "I did everything to get you to let me go. I don't want you to give up anything for me; can't you see that? You were born to be in the spotlight, dodging bullets, charming your way into and out of trouble. I'm an anchor to you now; you know it but refuse to admit it. I want you to forget me. Why won't you let me go?"
She closed her eyes, face tilted toward the ceiling. "Because maybe I went crazy over there. Maybe we weren't this close," again with the fingers, "to having a life together. Maybe we were already there. Maybe it wasn't conventional, but it was real, it was us. Maybe I misunderstood sex for more. Maybe I thought that our wedding meant as much to you as it did to me. Maybe I'm the biggest fool to walk planet earth."
"But now I'm broken so..."
"Yeah, that's right." Nodding, she looked away and brushed the back of her hand over her eyes. "And I'm too shallow to be the person you need, right? Too superficial? I know the truth. I know that you should be capable of limited mobility, that you are not trapped in that chair, that you have sensations in your right leg and have even managed to stand for a brief period of time here and there. Didn't you think I'd do some research on your injuries? I may have kept my distance, but I have a knack for getting people to talk to me, remember? Yes, you're in a wheelchair, but your situation isn't hopeless. You're the one who gave up, but for the life of me I don't know why. It's not like you. You're a goddamn colonel in the Marine Corps. You don't surrender, so what's going on with you?"
Her words stung. He had heard them for months now and he didn't know the answer. He couldn't explain anything to anyone, not even himself.
"You need to be in New York or in the middle of the action. You're the It Girl, isn't that what they call you? Headed for a network anchor job one day, right? Your own show? Watch out Manhattan, here comes Shane. You'll have them eating out of your hand within months."
"Maybe you don't know me as well as I thought," she said with a bitter twist of her mouth. "I've been waiting...don't you see? I could care less about a network job and you know it." She finished stuffing the contents into her bag before standing. "I love you. I thought you loved me, too. Until you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't, that you never did, I'll keep coming back."
He grabbed the picture frames from the sofa cushion where she'd tossed them and looked at the broken glass. Guilt and confusion ate away at his brain.
"Do you have any idea what it's like for me not to know what to do? I'm a decorated officer. I made decisions minute by minute that affected the lives of my unit, yet I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to do about this," he smacked the arms of his chair, "I don't know what to do about you and I definitely don't know what to do about Dalton. I'm fucked up. I hate not knowing what to do. You're right...it's not like me. Don't you think I know that?"
With a muttered curse, she sat on the edge of the sofa and blinked at the ceiling. He noticed her hands trembling as they gripped the strap of her bag. The room seemed abnormally quiet without her storming around and threatening him. He didn't like her docile and reflective...it threw him off.
"I'm sure it's hell. You were always in command. For months now, you've had one surgery after another, been under constant care with zero privacy, me pestering you with my endless notes and your family hauling you across the country without anyone asking what you want. No one is respecting the officer in the room."
He squinted at her. "Exactly. People talk about me rather than to me."
"Yet expect you to snap out of your funk and get on with your life."
"But I don't know what that means." Her understanding shook his resolve, weakened his resistance.
"And you haven't tried because you've been mourning your old life and don't know what the new life is yet."
"Everyone thinks I'm a rotten, self-pitying bastard."
"Because that's what you want us to think so we leave you alone." She shoved both hands through her hair and sighed. "You're exhausting."
"I know." He smiled for the first time in months. "I exhaust myself, too. I'm really sick of my crap."
"Well, that's something." She grinned, eyes dark with defeat. "I haven't respected the officer in the room, have I?" She skimmed her thumb across the scar on his forehead. "I love you, if that means anything to you at all."
"It means something to me." He snagged her hand, but she yanked it away and stood.
"My business card is on the table near the sofa if you need me, want to talk or whatever. My cell phone number's on the back." She hesitated at the door before looking over her shoulder. "I want my husband back."
** Today is Reckless Endangerment's release day! You can buy a copy now at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/305522#longdescr. Print copies will be available through Amazon. As of next week, the book will be available at all major ebook outlets. But why wait? Go to Smashwords now.
Author bio:
Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction author. For twenty years she's worked in the fields of journalism and marketing.
Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female characters who have their flaws and challenges but ultimately persevere. She currently has three romantic suspense novels out in the world: Reckless Endangerment, Riptide, and Kiss Me Slowly, with three more slated for publication in 2013.
Find out more about Easton at http://www.amberleaeaston.com or follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmberLeaEaston.
April 9, 2013
You will love author, Katie Mettner!
Meet Katie Mettner, amazing friend and author of the Sugar Series! Katie is an author that I've had the privilege of getting to know. I thought it would be great to interview her so you could get to know her as well. 1.) Tell us a little bit about yourself, Katie. Thanks for having me on the blog today, Jan! My name is Katie Mettner and I live in a small town in northern Wisconsin with my husband and three children. I grew up in Eau Claire, Wisconsin and lived there for the first 21 years of my life. I fell in love with Superior/Duluth when I met my husband and he took me there to meet his parents on our first Christmas together. We went to the Radisson and ate in the restaurant that turns you around the hotel and gives you a view of the Duluth Harbor. It was breathtaking and I was hooked. I have saved that experience for last and the Radisson is where Sugar's Night will take place! As I said, I'm mom to the three E's and wife to Dwayne. He teaches the fifth grade and my kids are in 7th, 4th and 3rd grades in his district. My day job is a medical transcriptionist and at night you will find me in Sugar's world with Sugar, Van, Jesse and Julie. Obviously, one of my favorite things to do (and I don't get to do enough) is ballroom dancing, so Sugar often gets to do the dancing I'd like to be doing. As a left below-knee amputee for the last two years, I have had to align my desires with reality, but with a new prosthesis on the horizon I'm looking forward to trying it out again.
2.) Have you always been a writer? I started writing early on in elementary school. Whether it was a little poem, a short story or journaling it was something I really enjoyed doing and took great pleasure from. I have loved to read since I was old enough to hold a book and I'm sure that has played a huge role in how much I enjoy writing. It's about getting lost in the story, either as I read it or write it, and that feeling of having to know how it ends before I can go on with real life. 3.) Tell us about your current series or WIP. My current series is called, The Sugar Series, and it is a Christian romantic suspense series. There are three books: Sugar's Dance, Sugar's Song and current WIP, Sugar's Night. Tula "Sugar" Dubois is a ballroom dance instructor in the twin ports of Superior, Wisconsin and Duluth, Minnesota. She has lost a lot in her young life and as her Dance opens we waltz with her as she tries to overcome the guilt and fear and overpowering nightmares that fill her as she approaches the anniversary of the death of her parents and dance partner 10 years ago. She is thrown into a rather scary situation by her adoptive brother, Jesse, and has to rely on her new bodyguard, Donovan Walsh, to keep her safe. Sugar seems to have everything to the average person looking in on her life, but Donovan very quickly realizes that she has a lot of secrets and her world is falling apart.
Sugar's Dance
(This is one of my favorite scenes because it shows Sugar's true love of ballroom and just how much she uses it for solace in her life as she is struggling with nightmares of the accident.) ~ I was in the ballroom and Rascal Flatts came on with, I'm Movin' On, and my feet began to waltz, right there with no one else. It was me and the music. Each step was measured, each step was soft and each step was putting me in a world where there was no pain. It put me back in that little top floor dance studio in Duluth where I danced my first waltz with my best friend. It put me back in that ballroom in St. Paul where Brent and I had taken home the waltzing trophy. It put me back in the place that made me happy. Each step reminded me that there was always a place to escape when I couldn't take any more of the world around me. There was always that place that I could go to where my heart didn't ache and I didn't have to struggle to keep the tears at bay. I danced with a smile on my face because I saw the brown eyes of my best friend with each turn and I heard him laugh as he led me through turn after turn until I was so dizzy that I could barely stand. I felt his hand was in mine as he began to waltz, but I kept my eyes closed. I could feel the tears on my face and I couldn't stand to see the look of pity in someone else's eyes. I finished the dance and when the music died he pulled me to him whispering. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you waltzing like that and I've never seen anything as heartbreaking as the sad smile on your face." ~
The second book, which I lovingly refer to as "Her Song" opens with a rumba and we get to watch Sugar come into her own. She is finally happy having waltzed through the darkest time of her life and is starting to see the light now. She meets Donovan's sister, Lillie, and sees a lot of herself in this girl who also has secrets to keep. There are a lot of new beginnings in her Song and I recently had a reader e-mail me that she had to stop at a rest stop and fix her makeup because she read it on the drive to the Twin Cities and had no mascara left for their event!
Sugar's Song
(Sugar takes Van's sister, Lillie, to a rather infamous bar in Superior for a burger. This bar is known for its interesting decor amongst other things. This is the beginning of the scene where Sugar finds out just how much Lillie has to hide.) ~ I weaved my way down toward the old docks to a little building that had the best burgers in town. Lillie lifted a brow at me. "There's a big anchor in the yard," she said, stating the obvious. "I know, it's called Anchor Bar, hence the anchor," I said, laughing and we climbed out of the SUV and opened the door. Lillie pulled up short in front of me after she took two or three steps in. "There's a fake leg hanging from the ceiling," she whispered horrified. I patted her on the back. "Oh honey, that's just the beginning," I said, winking. The Anchor Bar is notorious for its innovative decorating, its simplistic menu and its rather colorful service. The bar's owner had a bit of an eclectic decorating theme going, with nautical meets demented puppets meets a fish wearing a lei. There wasn't a spot of wall space not covered and not a spot on the ceiling that didn't have something hanging from it. The tables and chairs were the most mismatched set of garage sale finds on the planet, but surprisingly it all worked. Their reputation for the best burgers and homemade fries at a price that undercut McDonald's made it standing room only pretty much anytime of the day. I pointed her towards the round table in the corner and we climbed up the two steps and sat down. "I've been in a lot of bars," she leaned over and whispered, "but this one takes the cake." I picked up a menu, "You've been in a lot of bars?" I asked, raising a brow. "Sugar, I lived in Texas. Yes, I've been in a lot of bars!" she looked around her and motioned at the wall. "Books?" She questioned. "Yes, ma'am. We are sitting in what is otherwise known as the Anchor Bar library." I said trying to hide my smile. I handed her a menu. "My suggestion would be to know what you want when they come to the table. Don't stutter and don't make eye contact." I said very seriously looking over the menu at her. I heard her snort at me like she thought I was joking. I wasn't, but she'd find out soon enough. "So what's good here?" She asked. "Everything. The fries are homemade and the burgers are wonderful. The olive burger is out of this world." I said and her nose turned up a little. "A burger with cream cheese and olives?" She almost gagged just saying it. "Hey don't knock it til you try it! Your dad said the same thing and now he loves it!" I said stopping short, "I'm sorry, I mean your brother, Van, Donny Don." Ugh. Open mouth insert foot. She was laughing at my stumbling. "It's okay he's all of the above to me. I haven't been very sure what to call him now, so don't worry about it. Usually I just call him Dad." "Seems to me you can call him whatever you want." I said and she looked down at the menu and then back at me. "Very few people know that he isn't actually my dad, so if it's okay with y'all I'd just as soon start calling him dad again." She said. "I smiled. "It's just fine with us. Is it okay if we refer to him as your dad? " I asked. I wanted to be sure that the rest of us were doing everything we could to make sure she understood that we care about her and her feelings. "Yeah, unless I'm mad at him, then his name is Mud." She said and we both broke into a fit of giggles. The waitress came over and stood one foot up on the stair. "What can I get you?" she asked and I jumped right in giving her my order of an olive burger with fries and a Diet Coke. Lillie was still looking at the menu, taking her own sweet time, and I could see the waitress was about to move us to the back of the line. "She'll have a jalapeno burger and fries with a Diet Coke." I said quickly snatching the menu from Lillie's hand and the waitress muttered something about being right back and Lillie gave me an eyebrow. "Not the talkative type, are they?" Lillie asked watching the waitress walk away and I just smiled. ~
In Sugar's Night, my current WIP, Sugar once again finds herself in a bit of a conundrum when it comes to her life, but this time it is professionally instead of personally. She is faced with the realities of her changing personal life and the effect it is having on her professional abilities. Yet at the same time she is finding that what she used to love to do no longer holds that draw for her, instead she finds herself missing her one true love, dancing. With the final rumba, Sugar comes out of the dark and the light of her future shines bright. In this book, the reader also finally finds out who Julie, Sugar's best friend and Jesse's wife, really is. The first two books give us her background and the final one, well, I can't say, but I think the reader will be happy to know that Julie is going to be okay. :)
Sugar's Night
(In this scene, Sugar's friend, John, has a little chat with her about doing what you love or doing something else. It is the start of Sugar's final waltz into the light.) ~ "So why the grim look? Something seems to be bothering you," he said, leaning forward on his knees. "No, no," I said, trying to deny it. "I'm just tired and we have a long way to go before the competition is over in November and we jet off to Ireland. "You look tired," he said, leaning in, "and maybe a little," he hesitated, I don't know. You just don't seem yourself, haven't for a few months. You don't have to worry about the kids they are going to be just fine." I nodded faking a smile. "I have no doubt in my mind they will be fine, John." "But?" he said persistently and I groaned inwardly. "But I can't keep up this pace," I said, surprising myself. He didn't look surprised. "I agree. You're spread pretty thin." "I miss this." I said motioning in front of me at the dance floor. "I miss dancing and having impromptu dance parties." "So what else do you miss? he asked. "I don't get to spend much time at The House, which is really starting to take off and I want to be a part of that, you know? I know things will slack off now that the wedding season is over, but... I don't know." I said snapping my mouth shut. "So you miss doing the two things that you love the most," he said, as a statement rather than a question. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying." I agreed. "And I promised Van after the competition we would try for a baby." His brow went up, "Really?" I jumped in quickly, "I know I have problems, but Dr. Mueller assured me I could still have kids." He raised his other brow. "Sorry. I'm a little stressed out." I said shrugging and grimacing on the inside. Shut up, Sugar, just zip the lips. "I noticed that, Sugar, but I've also seen the way children flock to you and there isn't a doubt in my mind the kind of mother you will be. Can I give you a little piece of advice?" he asked, laying his hand over mine and I nodded. "Do what makes you happi..." "I am happy!" I was quick to reassure him, but he held his hand up. "Let me finish. Do what makes you the happiest. Life is not a dress rehearsal. You don't get do-overs. If you find yourself at the end of the day wishing you had spent it some other way then that's what you need to change. It's never too late to reinvent yourself, or maybe in this case, un-invent yourself." I looked out over the floor and nodded. "You're right." He stood and patted my shoulder. "I know I'm right and I know you'll figure it out. I will bid you adieu for the evening now. Thank you for the lovely party." He whispered in my ear. "Thank you for the words of advice." I whispered back and he smiled, patting my cheek before collecting his wife and saying their goodbyes.~ My next series will be The Northern Light Series. The series will again be based in the Twin Ports, but instead of being told from Sugar's point of view it will be a new character each time. Sugar fans have told me over and over "We want more Sugar!" so with this series we will still get glimpses into Sugar's life and the life of her family, but we will meet some new Duluthians with secrets to keep and love to find. The first book will feature Grant Harris; an Australian born, California trained physical therapist who comes to Duluth. He is integral in helping Sugar see her light in Sugar's Night and is very mysterious. My current working title is, Granted Redemption, and the woman who helps him find his redemption will be someone Sugar fans will certainly remember! 4.) You have a knack for creating believable, lovable characters and the things that are dear to them shine through in your writing. (i.e. in Sugar's Dance, Sugar was a strong advocate for MAMBOS - Miracles Are Made by Organ Sharing - that was so touching!) Do you want to say a few words about that? My second grade teacher always told us "write what you know about". And Sugar's Dance is filled with "what I know about". I wrote the series from Sugar's point of view because I wanted the reader to feel like they are having a conversation with Sugar. I want them to feel like they are sitting across the table having a cup of coffee while she pours her heart out to them or be a fly on the wall as she has a heart to heart with Jesse or Van. Organ donation is incredibly dear to my heart. My husband's brother, Andrew, is a two time kidney recipient after losing his kidneys to a birth defect at age 18. His first donor was his father and he had that kidney for some 20 years. I will honestly tell you I never much cared for my husband's only sibling, I loved him as a family member, but didn't like to spend a lot of time talking to him. I found him to be a bit overbearing and too much of a know-it-all for me. He seemed to know a lot about the world he had barely started living in and he had a bit of an entitled attitude that rankled me. As time went on and he matured from college student to working as an educator, I began to see a change in him. He seemed to mellow out and was able to respect other's opinions without necessarily having to tell them why they were wrong. Well time went on and soon his kidney was failing. We were faced with a hard decision at that point because my husband is his only sibling and his only chance at a second living donor. He was fortunate not to have to go on dialysis the first time and we were hoping to get him a kidney before he had to go on dialysis this time too, as patients usually do better this way. My husband was tested to be a donor, but unfortunately was found to also have stage-1 kidney disease. Unbeknownst to his family, I had also sent in the early testing material and it came back that not only was I a match, but I was a better match than his own brother! Long story short, four years ago I was given the incredible honor of being his second living kidney donor and it was an experience that changed my life. It has given me the perspective that someone always has it worse and I think it has changed how I live my life and how I teach my children about life. This was a message I wanted to pass on in Sugar's Dance and so MAMBOS was born. MAMBOS is the foundation that Sugar pours her energy and love for her dance partner, Brent, into after he is killed in the accident and becomes an organ donor. It's what keeps his memory alive for Sugar and something she really has held onto and believed in since that day 10 years ago. When I wrote that part of the book I needed an acronym that I could use for her foundation and I really struggled trying to think of something that wasn't already used and somehow tied into the book. Strangely enough as I stood in the shower washing my hair it was just there. I'm soaping away and I get "MAMBOS, miracles are made by organ sharing." I'm looking around the shower stall thinking did I just hear that? It was a case of divine intervention for me and I ran with it! I actually started laughing because as a ballroom dancer the one dance I can't do is the mambo! Okay, I can do it, but as a short Canadian I look plain ridiculous! In Sugar's Dance we meet Justin who received one of her dance partner's kidneys and as Sugar watches him and his new baby on what she was expecting to be a very bad night she sort of started to see a change in the gales as they blew. She was still deeply affected by the loss of her loved ones, but comforted by seeing Justin moving on with his life, something he wouldn't have been able to do if it hadn't been for losing Brent. She saw the circle close and understood that some things happen for a reason and we may not know the reason that very second, but eventually it becomes clear and we can take solace in it and move on. 5.) What do you love most about the writing process? The part I love most is being the characters in the story. Getting lost in the story and letting it unfold under my fingers as I type. I don't pre-plan my stories, I let them go where they take me and when I type "The End" I look forward to going back and reading the story to see if it's anything I had originally set out to write. Sugar's Dance was so far from what I had planned to write it's in a different state. Sugar's Song was a little bit closer because it followed the first book, but again, Sugar's Night is NOTHING like what I had in mind when I closed her Song. The writing process for me is simply enjoying the story I am creating and all the rest doesn't matter. I don't get bogged down with outlines and notes and over-thinking this or that. I just let it be what it was meant to be and that's a story told from the heart about a character that fills my heart. 6.) Do you have any words of wisdom for aspiring authors? Most authors would say things like "read, read, read and write, write, write. Take advantage of all the information and people out there that can help sharpen your writing skills". Etc. And while all of that is very true and great advice, the only words of wisdom I have are these -- "Write it from the heart and they will read."
It was truly a joy having Katie on my blog! You can contact Katie at: sugarsdance@gmail.com Website: www.katiemettnerbooks.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/KatieMettner Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Katie-Mettner-Author/228147413916391 LinkedIn: Katie Mettner Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5443295.Katie_Mettner Author pages: http://www.amazon.com/Katie-Mettner/e/B006Z7STX2/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1 (US)
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Katie-Mettner/e/B006Z7STX2/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1365387311&sr=8-2 (UK)
