Samantha March's Blog, page 7
August 26, 2014
Keep Calm and Brag On
I’ve never been the best at talking myself up. As a shy little girl, I sort of faded into the background everywhere. I didn’t like to speak up, I didn’t like to draw attention to myself. As I got older, I got a little bit better. Competing in beauty pageants really helped open me up to that, because I learned to speak to and befriend complete strangers, I learned to walk with confidence on a stage, and I learned how answer interview questions with a strong voice and eye contact. But I’m still a shy girl. I’m still quiet, especially in large groups. A lot of times I use humor to cover that up – who hasn’t heard that one before?
At this point in my life, I am self-employed. I am an author. I’m doing what I love. While I would love to shout that from the rooftop every day, I still don’t want to call that attention to myself. With the way social media is today, it’s easy to do. A simple post, a Facebook status, heck, a selfie. But I don’t want to look like “that girl” who does nothing but brag about herself. Where’s the line?
Before I quit my job, when people would ask what I did for a living I said I worked at a hospital. End of story. I was afraid I was going to come off looking like I was bragging or I thought I was better than someone else if I started listing all my other activities. If my husband was around, he would be the one saying, “But she also writes books and runs a publishing company” and open up that discussion. When I get asked what I do for a living now, I’m proud to say that I’m self-employed and what I do. But more than that, I’ve realized that I need to do that. I need to tell people what I do and stop hiding in that shell. Why? Because I need to earn my paycheck, and I do that by writing books, selling books, and marketing books for myself and other authors. I need people to know what I do, I need to talk myself up, I need to sell myself. Before, I had the steady paycheck of my day job to fall back on. Now that I’ve been given this amazing opportunity to do what I love full-time, I need to constantly keep that motivation up and that fire within me. I need to tell my hygienist while she’s cleaning my teeth that I have books for sale on Amazon (she bought them – yay!). I need to tell my new financial manager that I’m author (he bought them – yay!). I need to utilize social media to my benefit so I can keep doing what I’m doing and still allow us to pay the mortgage and feed our dog. It’s been an interesting self-journey to watch me continue to grow throughout the years, to gain more confidence in myself and be able to proudly talk about my accomplishments without feeling like I’m shining a Beyonce-sized spotlight on me. I give a lot of that credit to my amazing friends and family, who support me and help talk me up as well. And of course, to the virtual world that I’m a part of. I couldn’t ask for anything more from all my friends out there. So while I know I’ll continue to struggle to talk myself up and put myself out there, I also know that I can do it. It might make me uncomfortable and sometimes I might rein it in when I think I’m being too braggy (whoops, authors using non-words!) but maybe there will be a day where it comes more naturally to me. Regardless of whether that day comes or not, I know that I’ll still be doing what I love – surrounding myself with books and the other amazing people who write them.
August 22, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Interview and Excerpt: Open My Eyes by Jennifer Collin
**Interview**
When did you know writing was for you?
I wrote my very first short story when I was seven or eight years old. My second grade teacher wrote “Great Work” next to it. To be honest, I was taken aback. Sure I’d tried hard, but I always got an A for effort in everything I did. This was the first time that effort actually produced something impressive. I had found something I was good at.
Why was Open My Eyes a book you wanted to write?
Open My Eyes was less a book I wanted to write and more one that insisted I write it. The characters of Emily and Ben came to life in my first book, Set Me Free, Book One of the Evans Trilogy. As I was writing Set Me Free, Emily found herself in trouble and in a hole so deep, she needed a book of her own to get her out. She needed time and space to heal and there was an emotional journey she had to go on before she could open her eyes and see Ben for who he really is.
I hadn’t intended to write a trilogy when I started Set Me Free, but the characters took over, and here we are.
What is the hardest part of the writing process for you?
With two small kids, it’s definitely finding the time to do it. I always feel so despondent when I read advice to authors that they should write at the time of day they are most productive. My best time of day is from 7 to 9 in the morning, the time of day that is all about getting the kids to school and getting to work. I wrote Open My Eyes in the midnight hours, caffeinated up and ignoring the protests of my body clock.
What are your favorite genres to read?
I’m such a sucker for romantic comedies. I love imperfect characters who can laugh at themselves and their friends, and I love happily ever afters. When I was younger, I overdosed on misery – reading harrowing tales of tortured characters who’d experience horrible, horrible things. I loved nothing more than a book that made me sob so much I could barely read the final pages. But I am done with that now. If there are tears these days, it’s because I am laughing so hard.
What do you want readers to take away from your story?
I think a bit of my past preference for sadness crept into Open My Eyes. At the beginning of the novel, Emily finds herself on the cusp of a divorce, homeless, jobless and pregnant to her sister’s best friend. She’s hit rock bottom. But thankfully the only way is up, and she finds friends who, over time, help her out of the funk she’s in. As much as Open My Eyes is Emily and Ben’s love story, it’s also a story about friendship and standing by your friends when they are making foolish choices. Emily drives her friends nuts, but they stand by her nonetheless and I guess I hope my readers see that.
Of course, I also want them to take away the desire to read the third book in the Evans Trilogy, which I am working on now 
How important do you think social media is for authors these days?
So important. There are so many brilliant authors out there these days, it’s very hard to find ones that you click with as a reader. Social media provides word-of-mouth recommendations on a global scale. It’s also such a fun way to interact with readers and other writers, to share a joke or send a cyber hug when it’s needed.
What would be your advice to aspiring writers?
Never give up. Because everything can be banked as a lesson learned, even when it hurts. Never be discouraged. Bank it and push on. Even if someone says something that doesn’t resonate with you, doesn’t make sense, over time you will come to understand why they said it. Just never let it stop you in your tracks.
Also, the world of writing is changing so dramatically, the opportunities seem endless at the moment. Don’t watch and wait, get involved and enjoy yourself. The chances you’ll become the next JK Rowling or EL James may be pretty slim, but you’ve got to be in it to win it.
**Excerpt**
Annie rubbed Emily’s arm. ‘I’m not surprised he’s still mad at you, though, are you?’
‘I guess not. I just didn’t expect him to be mean.’
Emily didn’t know the version of Ben she’d just met. The irate, kind of nasty Ben. She didn’t want to tell that Ben about the baby. She wanted to tell the old Ben, the easy-going, happy-go-lucky Ben. It was the intensity in his eyes that unnerved her the most. That was new. Everything else was the same. His black T-shirt and jeans. His shoulder-length hair pulled back in his usual style, tied low against his neck. The coolness of it didn’t suit the mean version of Ben. Mean Ben ought to have a mohawk, and not just a faux mohawk – Emily was thinking spikes superglued in place, with the rest of his head shaved to skin.
‘Was he mean though, or was he just different?’ asked Annie. ‘You’ve been friends for a long time, Em. After what happened, I expect it would be hard for him to treat you the same, to be like he’s always been with you.’
Emily rolled her shoulders, attempting to loosen the knots, wishing she could do the same for the one in her stomach. ‘I guess.’
‘Come on,’ said Annie, tugging on Emily’s arm. ‘Let’s sit down for a bit before you go inside.’
They made themselves comfortable on the faded red concrete steps. Emily dropped her head into her hands and Annie put an arm around her shoulders.
‘What am I going to do, Annie?’
‘It’ll be okay, Em. You’ll find the right time, the right way to tell him.’
‘It’s not just him, though,’ Emily said. ‘It’s this baby. What am I going to do with this baby? What the hell do I know about babies? Nothing, that’s what. I can’t take care of a baby!’
‘Of course you can,’ said Annie. ‘You have nine months of gestation to get ready for becoming a mum. There are books and classes and all that, aren’t there?’
‘Oh, I can read.’ Emily rubbed furiously at her temples. ‘Of course I can read. But Annie, I can barely take care of myself. How am I supposed to take care of someone else? And not just anyone else. A small helpless, vulnerable baby, so dependent on me their life is in my hands.’ She held them out. ‘My stupid, hopeless hands. And God, what about loving someone so much you’d throw your life down for them? What do I know about that kind of love? What do I know about any kind of love? I don’t think I’m capable of love. I didn’t even love my stupid ex-husband!’
Emily’s heart was racing and she couldn’t draw breath deep enough to slow it down.
‘Shh,’ said Annie. ‘That’s just silly, Em. Love is not instant, you know. It grows. And your love for your baby will grow in you while he or she does. You don’t need to worry about how you’ll do it, you just will.’
Emily’s heart began to slow, matching the rhythm of Annie’s hand moving up and down on her arm. She dropped her head onto her friend’s shoulder, closed her eyes and started a mental list of all the things she could hear, a trick Annie had taught her. Traffic in the distance, a plane heading for the airport to the north, birds in the tree down the street, banging from the building behind her.
Author Bio:
Jennifer Collin writes quirky, and sometimes gritty, love stories about ordinary people dealing with what life throws at them. She lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband, two noisy children and a cantankerous cat. She used to party, but now her idea of a good time is an uninterrupted sleep. These days, her characters do her partying for her, and she doesn’t necessarily let them sleep.
Connect with Jennifer!
Website – http://www.jennifercollin.com/
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/JenniferCollinAuthorPage?ref=hl
Twitter – https://twitter.com/CollinJennifer
Pinterest - http://www.pinterest.com/jycolli/
Goodreads -https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7105090.Jennifer_Collin
Buy the Book!
Amazon US link - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JJNWIV8
Amazon UK link - http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00JJNWIV8?*Version*=1&*entries*=0
August 18, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Novel Spotlight: The Achilles Heel by Karyn Rae
**Excerpt**
ANNIE
D on’t put your hat on. Please don’t put your hat on.
Crossing my fingers like a grade school child wishing for a snowstorm in August, I watched him take his time as he gathered what looked to be papers, but I wasn’t quite sure. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly while grabbing his hat from the dashboard. For some reason, I had the notion if he didn’t put on the hat to complete his uniform, this visit would be somewhat less official. He noticed me standing in the sliver of the window framing my front door. He paused, shut his car door, and straightened his trousers a tad- when one goes from sitting to standing and is between pant sizes. Finally, he put on that goddamn hat.
As he walked towards the door, gravel from the driveway crunched under his heavy black boots. Streaks of sweat ran down his sunlit glistened face. His heavily starched shirt sported a soaking wet “V” on the chest connecting to the wetness under both arms. With record high temperatures in Kansas City reaching 106 during the first week of June, I was secretly glad he was hot, and it almost made me happy to think he might be suffering a bit. Our eyes made contact when he reached the red-brick porch steps, and I knew. He could have turned around, got back in his police car and never said a word to me; his eyes told me the whole story. Maybe his eyes didn’t tell me the entire story, but they certainly implied the most important part- the ending. As he stood on the opposing side of the window, the glare from his name badge which read GRADY shone in my right eye, causing me to wince.
“Ma’am,” he asked through the double paned glass. “Are you all right?”
I just stood there, staring blankly. Why is he here to ask me if I’m okay? Is this guy a fucking idiot? What cop comes to someone’s front door, scares the hell out of them, and opens with a question like, “Ma’am, are you all right?” I was doing just fine before he pulled into my driveway.
“Ma’am,” he started again, as he tapped on the window trying to get my attention and break the paralyzing trance holding me motionless. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!”
At that moment, I tasted the blood. As I mentally calculated his every move from the car to the door, knowing he wasn’t here to give me stellar news (cops don’t randomly show up at your house for no reason) I hadn’t noticed I was biting down on my lip. It must have been hard, because the blood was now running down the side of my chin.
I tried to answer, but only felt air pass between my lips; my voice lost in translation. I nodded my head up and down in a “Yes” motion.
Officer Grady asked, “Are you Annie Whitman, the wife of a Mr. Jack Whitman?”
Again with the up and down, “Yes,” motion.
“Could you please open the door?” he asked. “I’d like to come in and speak with you for a moment.”
I reluctantly but automatically obeyed, and the creak of the screen door was synonymous with a horror movie. Apparently, I was the main character.
“Ma’am, your husband was in an accident on the highway this morning. There were no survivors. We believe he was killed upon impact and have launched an investigation into the crash, but unfortunately, we don’t know many details yet. I’m so very sorry to bring you this devastating news. Is there someone you can call to come be with you right now?”
“No, no, you’re wrong,” I croaked, with a broken and raspy voice like someone infested with the forty-eight hour flu. “My husband is at work, and this is a mistake.” I tried again, but only fragments of sound spit into the air. I wasn’t forming recognizable words. “I’ll just call him, and we can clear this up. You’ll see it’s just terrible mistake,” I stammered, as I pulled my cell phone off the deep-chested entry table and tried to will my hands to stop shaking enough to dial the number.
“Oh, no, Jack, no,” I whispered through gritted teeth when the call went straight to his voicemail.
I dialed again. “Shit. No. Please, no,” my voiced squeaked as I paced back and forth. With my right hand barely sturdy enough to hold the phone to my ear and my left hand tucked tightly under the opposing armpit, I filled my fingers full of skin, pinching down as hard as possible in an attempt to divert the pain of feeling my heart rip apart.
Officer Grady extended his arms and shifted his feet each time I shuffled near him, initiating words of comfort, but quickly realizing his efforts were powerless when dealing with someone who’s rapidly sinking in the quicksand of denial.
Finally, he stepped into my path, and with a tight grip on both slumping shoulders, softly turned me around to face him.
The fact that I had bitten entirely through a small portion of my bottom lip seemed to startle him, and while the stream of blood continued to remain constant, he gently took control of my breakdown. “Mrs. Whitman,” he whispered. “Who should I call? You need someone with you right now. Please, is there someone I can call for you?”
This time a small and childlike “Yes,” escaped through my bloody lips. I felt like it shouldn’t take so much effort to say one little word, a word we use a hundred times a day, but it was hard and completely exhausting. It was as if the sound from this three letter word had held my lips apart just long enough for my soul to escape.
He pulled out a bandana, applying pressure to my mouth, and in exchange, I handed him my cell phone with the contact name Jamie lit up in blue letters on the screen. Someone would need to tell my brother-in-law that his older brother Jack was dead.
As Officer Grady took the phone from my hand, a tiny, purple orb slowly drifted past my line of vision and across his chest. Confused, my eyes followed the speck, only to see it suddenly multiply a thousand times, and then each orb began to swell. The purple color faded to the outside of the circle and a bead of light replaced the center like the dimmer switch on an LED bulb. Trying to blink the beacons away only seemed to make them brighter, and within moments the fluorescent illumination blinded me. The weight of my body became too burdensome for my legs, even my hair felt heavy. As if I were riding on a roller coaster and cresting the highest peak, I closed my eyes to the brightness just as I felt myself plummeting to the ground.
My name is Andrea Whitman and those were the last moments of this life as I knew them.
About the Book
Annie Whitman’s ordinary Midwest life is shattered with the sudden death of her husband Jack. Thirty-five and failing at life as a widow, she turns to the comforts of vodka in an attempt to camouflage the cold sheets of an empty bed. The necessary inebriation helps her to cope with Jack’s death, but proves to be a deterrent in recovering any sense of normalcy. After spending several months at the bottom of a bottle, Annie stumbles upon a lockbox in the crawl space of her basement. Opening this box also opens her eyes to the likelihood that Jack Whitman might not have been the honest and doting man she married.
Annie embarks on a mission to the Virgin Islands to uncover the truth about her husband’s past and seek safety from her brother-in-law, who seems to be the captain of his own sinking ship. While settling into paradise, she meets the wickedly handsome, but surprisingly reserved Kessler Carlisle, who is struggling with his retirement from country music superstardom. With Kessler’s help, Annie discovers the heart’s uncanny ability to heal, and the possibility that dead men don’t always keep their secrets-even if they’re buried in the Caribbean waters of St. Croix.
The Achilles Heel delves into the formidable fact that everyone harbors darkness, and some will go to the depths of the ocean to keep their secrets hidden.
**Everyone who leaves a comment on the tour page will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases a copy of The Achilles Heel by September 1 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus.com will receive 10 bonus entries!**
Author Bio:
Karyn Rae is an emerging Romantic-Suspense author. Her debut novel, The Achilles Heel was released in May 2014. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, and the Columbia Chapter of the Missouri Writers Guild. Karyn resides in Missouri with her husband, son, daughter, and chocolate lab- Augusta Mae.
The first part of Karyn’s life was spent in the South, and the last fifteen years have played out in the Midwest, but she’s still holding on to a shred of her Southern roots. She is a wife, mother, daughter, and sister who has made it her mission in life to carve out a career for herself, while keeping the husband and the children happy.
Buy the Book!
August 12, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Interview and Excerpt: Bloodpledge by Tima Maria Lacoba
**Interview**
1. Can you describe Bloodpledge in a tweet (140 characters or less)?
Ending the curse is only the beginning, especially when your enemies will do anything to prevent it.
2. Why was Bloodpledge a book you wanted to write?
Being the second part of a series, the story of Alec and Laura is not yet over. They have serious challenges ahead of them, not only from the Brethren who seek to control the Ingenii, but from each other. Readers have to read the book to find out!
3. What are you currently reading?
Gena Showalter’s, Angels of the Dark series. I love anything written by her—she has such finesse when describing her characters. If I can write half as well as Gena, I’ll be thrilled.
4. Do you experience writers block? Any tips on overcoming it?
Go rip out the weeds in the garden. Anything physical that gets the oxygen pumping through my brain, helps. Writers block is soon gone.
5. Where do you complete most of your writing? Any certain time of the day that you prefer?
Mornings usually work best for me. I head to my desk in the sunniest room in my house after breakfast, and start typing, or plotting on sheets of A3 paper I keep nearby. I have pics of my favourite actors (who resemble my characters) pinned to a noticeboard above my desk, and they keep me motivated.
6. Are you currently working on another novel?
Yes, I’m working on book 3 in the series—Blood Vault. Hint: the story moves out of Australia.
**Excerpt**
War. The very word frightened me. Alec could be killed. What was the use of having some magic elixir to make me immortal if the only person I wanted to spend eternity with could be taken from me? I didn’t want to consider the possibility: still, I could think of no way to avoid it. If anything were to go wrong and I lost him, I’d empty Antonia’s vial down the sink.
I took a deep breath and came to a decision. Every minute we spent together would be even more precious. Fingering the vial which hung from my neck, I said, ‘I’d like to go to Alec.’
‘He’s not here right now—went to fetch the blood-vault key from his flat and keep it with him,’ my father replied.
Things were serious if Alec felt the key wasn’t safe in his apartment. Did he really believe the Rebels capable of breaking the sanctity of the Princep’s domain? A shiver went through me. Going back to my room was out of the question as all tiredness had left me, and I’d probably end up pacing the carpet bare.
‘I’ll wait for him downstairs, in the front room.’
‘Why not wait in his room?’ Luc suggested. ‘Come, I’ll take you.’ He grasped my hand. We went down the corridor, past the family rooms, across the landing to the next wing of the house and to the first door on the left. Alec had brought me here the first time we made love. ‘Since he moved out, he uses it only occasionally.’
‘When did he move out?’
‘Only recently. Let me see …’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Oh yes, nineteen sixty.’
‘That’s recent?’
He chuckled. ‘For our kind it is.’ Before I could ask anything further, he kissed me lightly on the forehead, turned and left.
As I went to open the door, I glanced at my ring. The eyes of the serpent changed from red to black. At the same time Alec’s face flashed into my mind. I released the door handle as if electrocuted, ran down the hallway and called for Luc.
Author Bio:
Hi, I’m Tima Maria, and I write vampire books, but not just any vamp books – mine are Roman soldiers cursed by a Pictish witch in the 3rd century.
So, how did I start this series? In a previous life (before I started writing) I was a practicing archaeologist and historian, specializing in Roman Britain. Later, I took up high school teaching, as It gave me the opportunity to take my students on overseas excursions to visit the amazing archaeological sites they’d only seen in books.
Then one day, I surrendered to the itch of writing. After many years reading and correcting my students’ creative writing tasks and essays, I decided it was time to write my own. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Bloodgifted is the result.
In 2011, it was shortlisted in the Atlas Award – sponsored by a boutique Brisbane publisher – and eventually came fourth.
In 2012, it was listed among the top ten in the Choclit, Search for an Aussie Star Competition.
In 2013, I was offered a publishing contract, but declined in favour of going indie. I liked the idea of being in charge of my own creation.
Bloodgifted is just the start of a three part series I’ve entitled, The Dantonville Legacy. Later, I intend writing individual books on the other characters in the series, for they all have their own story.
Currently, I live on the Central Coast, an hour’s drive north of Sydney, surrounded by wooded hills, possums and seed-dropping rosellas. Between bouts of writing, I teach English and History, enjoy long walks while dodging the nesting magpies and plot the next series of books I’d like to write.
Connect with Tima!
Twitter – @TimaMariaLacoba
Facebook – http://www.facebook/TimaMariaLacoba
Goodreads – http://www.goodreads/TimaMariaLacoba
My website – http://timamarialacoba.blogspot.com
Buy the Book!
Amazon (AU) - http://bit.ly/1iHU3i3
Amazon (UK) - http://amzn.to/U5gqZD
Amazon (US) - http://amzn.to/1nQRD5X
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1iHUN6K
Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/1kA8n1H
Apple iTunes/iBooks - http://bit.ly/SpEXHs
Kobo - http://bit.ly/1qrhWCt
Booklinker http://myBook.to/Bloodpledge
a Rafflecopter giveaway
August 11, 2014
Breaking the Rules Turns Two
Happy Birthday to Breaking the Rules by Cat Lavoie! Cat is celebrating the birthday of her debut novel with a fun giveaway! Be sure to enter below. Congrats Cat and Breaking the Rules!
About the BookWhen twenty-seven year old Roxy Rule’s best friend and roommate accepts a glamorous new job overseas, she expects their relationship to continue as it’s always been—carefree and easy—until they share a heart-stopping kiss moments before his departure. Overcome with mixed emotions, she fights the urge to over analyze the situation and resumes back to her normal life in New York City, working for an intolerable boss at a dead end job, creeping further and further away from her own dreams of becoming a professional chef.
While things become more complicated between her and Ollie, Roxy is sure that nothing can come between two lifelong best friends—not even mild jealousy over a thriving career or a silly little kiss that meant nothing. In fact, it was such a meaningless and forgettable kiss that she convinces herself that it’s not even worth mentioning to her fiancé, although it is all she can think about.
Roxy’s already topsy-turvy life only gets more complicated when her sisters Steffi and Izzie suddenly become her roommates. Steffi is six months into a pregnancy she refuses to discuss and Izzie is in the throes of a premature midlife crisis. Roxy tries to take control of her career, her love life and her sisters – but can she really handle it all? And can the Rule family keep it together – or break under the pressure?
About CatCat Lavoie lives in Montreal, Canada with her tempestuous cat, Abbie. Her debut novel, Breaking the Rules, was published in August 2012 by Marching Ink. If Cat isn’t reading or writing, she’s most likely watching too much TV or daydreaming about her next trip to London. To find out more about Cat and her books, please visit www.CatLavoie.com
August 9, 2014
Writing Update on Book Four!
I haven’t given an update on my writing lately, and I think I need the boost to pep myself up. I completed the first draft of my fourth book about a month ago, and have not touched it since. This is my way though – I finish a draft and then let go for a while. The next thing I’ll do in this process is read the book from start to finish as a reader, not a writer, an editor, or proofreader. Just a reader. I want to see how I feel about the book, and I need to be apart from it for a while so I can thoroughly do so. I’m really curious to see what I think about the book and if it even makes any sense to me. This book took me the longest to write. I started in January and finished in July. I took some mega breaks in between writing as well, to enjoy my honeymoon and to start a new job. So I’m worried that my writing and my voice won’t flow as well as I want it to. But after that first read I’ll go back and re-read and take notes. Is there plot points started that I didn’t follow up on? Since I’m a panster and not a plotter, this happens often. Does my timeline match up? Again – same problem with the pantster/plotter issue.
It’s a little daunting going into self-editing, but I’m excited all the same, because this means my book is just that much closer to publication. I already have the cover design in mind and seriously – I cannot wait to share this. I knew what the cover was going to be before I had even written a word of the story, and in my mind it looks beautiful. I’m hoping for a release by the end of the year, but with Marching Ink having one other title for sure coming out this year, I’ll just have to see what our schedule looks like when that book has a firm release date. Hopefully more – such a clip from the book – is soon to come!
August 8, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Excerpt: Deadly Assets by Wendy Tyson
**Excerpt**
Clouds pressed in, painting the sky with a heavy coat of gray that matched Allison’s mood. It was nearly six o’clock on Thursday evening. Allison was unpacking her small overnight bag and placing her few belongings on padded hangers in the guest walk-in closet. She had nothing formal for dinner, so her pink suit would have to do. She hung up black pants and a cream blouse for tomorrow and carefully tucked her platform sling backs under a foot stool. After a quick call to Jason, her ex-husband and current boyfriend, asking him to take care of her dog Brutus, she sat on the lounge chair in her suite and looked around.
True to Francesca’s word, the guest quarters were generous. Two rooms–a bedroom and a study–flanked a full bath. The bedroom was furnished with heavy antiques. A four poster canopied bed, with down mattress, comforter and richly upholstered shams, stood against one wall. On the opposite wall sat an ornate, carved dresser topped by a thick slab of champagne-colored marble. A lounge chaise completed the bedroom. All of the suite’s linens, bedding and fabrics wore a designer touch, with coordinating patterns of cream, butterscotch and brown. The overall effect lent a comfortable charm to the decidedly masculine rooms.
But the bathroom was Allison’s favorite. Nearly as large as the bedroom, it had two sinks, a bidet and a roman-style sunken bath that hinted at the wealth the Beninis must have once had. Allison eyed the bath longingly. No time for that now.
Leaning back in the lounge, Allison tapped her colleague Vaughn’s phone number. Vaughn answered on the third ring. “Guess where I am?” Allison asked.
“Hawaii?”
“Funny. At the Benini estate.”
“Still?”
“Still. I’ll be here until tomorrow.” She gave Vaughn a quick rundown of her meeting with Francesca. “She’s in a hurry to get started.”
“You’re staying at her house? Isn’t that a little…weird?”
Allison laughed. “Under normal circumstances, yes. The Beninis have the room, though, and I could use the crash course in Benini culture if I’m going to work magic in such a short time. I need you to do some things.”
“Name ‘em.”
“We need to come back up and get her next Friday. Do you think you can clear my schedule for next Saturday? Maybe a portion of Sunday, too? After that, find a few hours a day for the next two weeks. And start to line up the gang. Errol for hair, Natalie for make-up, Kenneth for voice and diction. Call Neiman Marcus…try Annette for personal shopping.”
“So you want the works?”
“No nutrition, at least not for now. But include Dr. Keith for a psych consultation. Francesca may balk, but truthfully, she’ll need all the calm she can get. Dr. Keith’s good at helping people deal with anxiety.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks.” Allison thought through her intake checklist. “What am I missing?”
“It’s not what, it’s who. You received another urgent call today. From a woman named Denise Carr.”
“Don’t recognize the name.”
“She manages musicians. She’d like you to meet with her client, Tammy Edwards, next week. She asked for today or tomorrow, but I explained that you were in Ithaca.”
“Why the urgency?”
“Tammy Edwards–she’s known as Swallow, how do you like that for a nickname?–will be on the next season of America’s Next Pop Star. Heard of it?”
“Of course. It’s one of those reality shows. People sing in the hopes of becoming famous.”
“Yep. According to Denise, Tammy was discovered by a music executive while singing a solo in her church’s choir during a wedding he attended. He signed her on the spot and had her audition for this show. She made it.”
“So why the image consulting now? Isn’t it a little after the fact?”
“It’s all a little odd because Tammy already has a music contract. But the show doesn’t prohibit it, and her manager thinks the show will be good exposure. Denise–that’s the manager– says the kid has no stage presence. That she was basically raised by wolves.”
Allison rose. She walked to the window, parted the heavy drapes and looked outside. The sky had darkened to a surly charcoal and although dusk was more than an hour away, it looked like night had fallen prematurely.
“Where’s she from?”
“Scranton.”
“What’s wrong with Scranton?”
“Nothing.”
Allison let the drapes fall. “I’ve known you for a long time, Vaughn. I can hear the hesitation in your voice. What’s up?”
“Ignore me,” he said. “Denise Carr just rubbed me the wrong way. It’s nothing.”
Allison doubted it was nothing, but she knew Vaughn wouldn’t tell her until he was ready. “So when did you get Tammy in?”
“Monday.”
“So soon?”
A weary sigh from Vaughn. “’Fraid so. You’ll get back tomorrow, you’re giving a speech at that business luncheon on Saturday and beginning on Monday, you start long sessions with Tammy Edwards.”
“Well, at least I have next Sunday night free.”
“Actually-”
“Uh-oh.”
“I had to reschedule your Recently Divorced group. I made it for Sunday night.”
“Were the ladies okay with that?”
“I offered to refund their money, but they requested that timeslot instead.”
Allison laughed. “Who likes to relax?”
“Relaxation is overrated. Besides, you’re up there in the beautiful Finger Lakes. Have some wine. Enjoy the view.”
Lightening flashed outside. Seconds later, Allison heard the distant rumble of thunder. The lights in the suite flashed on and off.
“Sightseeing’s not in the cards.” Allison glanced at her watch. “Dinner in fifteen, then a session with Francesca afterwards.” She closed the drapes as the lights flickered again. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m on my way back?”
“Please. And don’t let the ghosts get you. I read something about the old Benini estate being haunted. Someone died in that house.”
“Lovely,” Allison said. She slipped her shoes on and looked around the room. Shadows danced in the falling gloom. “Ghosts I can handle. It’s Francesca’s vultures I’m concerned about.”
**Everyone who leaves a comment on the tour page will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases a copy of Deadly Assets by August 18 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus.com will receive 10 bonus entries!**
Author Bio:
Wendy Tyson is a corporate lawyer and former therapist whose background has inspired her mysteries and thrillers. She’s the author of three crime novels. Her latest, DEADLY ASSETS, the second Allison Campbell mystery, was released on July 22. The first Campbell novel, KILLER IMAGE, was named by Examiner.com as one of the ten best mysteries for book clubs in 2014. She’s also written THE SEDUCTION OF MIRIAM CROSS. Wendy lives near Philadelphia with her husband, three sons and two muses, dogs Molly and Driggs.
Find Wendy at:
www.WATyson.com and on twitter (www.twitter.com/wendytyson) and Facebook (www.facebook.com/wendytysonauthor).
Buy the Book!
B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deadly-assets-wendy-tyson/1119898799?ean=2940149797820
Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/deadly-assets-2
Killer Image:
B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/killer-image-wendy-tyson/1116870719?ean=2940148639862
August 7, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Interview and Excerpt: A Horse Named Joe by Lisa Loomis
**Interview**
When did you know writing was for you?
I started writing a diary when I was very young. It wasn’t only about me, but people around me, things I liked, things I observed. I realize now that I liked characters from the beginning. Going through school I always took creative writing classes. I remember some teachers that motivated me and others that didn’t. For years I thought about writing a book, but it’s a hard thought to put your head around, it seems insurmountable. A very good friend of mine died at 47, he was a talented musician; I always admired his ability to just be able to play. He was my motivation for writing my first novel “Boy In A Band”. It took me years of starting and stopping, telling myself I couldn’t write a book—when I finished it I went wow I did it. That was only the beginning through. Now the characters come into my head and they start to form and build and I know I have to get them out. I just finished my eighth book, which will probably be out in August and it’s funny some days when I sit down at my keyboard I still tell myself “you can’t write a book”.
Why was A Horse Named Joe a book you wanted to write?
I was a casualty of the financial meltdown of 2008. I used to own a mortgage branch and like Roni Dugan overnight my life as I knew it went away. Like her it was financial devastation, and like her I had to find the good in the mess. I took two trips to Green Turtle Cay, both girl trips, of which I’d never done a girl trip before. I fell in love with the place; the simple life can be very attractive and most of the people there live a simple life. While I was there the characters started to build and yes some of the book characters are based on folks I met. Some of the funny events the girls in the book encounter were based on things that happened—sometimes real life is pretty damn funny. And I loved, loved, loved Joe, he’s real and he does freely roam the island and he represented a lot of things to Roni and to me.
What is the hardest part of the writing process for you?
Not having enough time, and being too critical of my writing. I don’t really get writer’s block, it just seems I can’t get the stories out as fast as I’d like.
What are your favorite genres to read?
I like so many different genres, I don’t really have a favorite. I like a GOOD book, one that makes me feel emotion and think about it. I love characters that stay with me long after the book is finished, so I try to create characters like that.
What do you want readers to take away from your story?
I want readers to take away the joy of life. We all (pick me) get to hung up in the day to day rat race and too much of the time we forget to enjoy simple.
How important do you think social media is for authors these days?
Very. The book world has changed with self-publishing and I think social media is an avenue to get the word out there.
What would be your advice to aspiring writers?
I’ve heard so many authors say this and although it sounds corny “keep writing”. “Boy In A Band” was edited I can’t even count the times and every time it only got better in my eyes. Every book I’ve written since I think my writing improves. I write because I love the story. I don’t think “will this sell” I think “I want to tell this story”. I think aspiring writers have to feel passionate about what they write.
**Excerpt**
Roni woke early as usual. The tiny lizard that had come in and out of her room for the last month was on the ceiling in the corner. Hey, little guy, you coming to send me off? she said to herself. The lizard did a couple of pushups almost as if he were answering her, making Roni smile. She had emailed Mack late last night, reminding him of her flight information. They had quit trying to Skype some time ago due to bad timing and not reaching one another; email had become the communication of choice. She’d typed long ones about what was going on. His were mostly very short, typical Mack. She was looking forward to seeing him and nervous at the same time.
The air conditioning unit kicked on as she threw the sheet back. Jenny was still asleep; her blonde hair spread across the pillow. Roni pulled the tie from her hair and fixed her ponytail before she walked out to the kitchen to make coffee. As she filled the pot from the kitchen faucet, she thought about the frogs. She realized their sound had become a part of her world. She hardly heard them anymore. Wondering how long it would take her to readjust to the sounds of a New York night, she filled the coffeemaker and scooped in the coffee.
Author Bio:
Lisa Loomis writes because she loves to. Her stories are about the human condition: love, life, and everything in between (including sex, drugs, alcohol, and things just crazy enough to be true). Her stories are not predictable, conventional, or lacking in the messiness of life. She tries to extract the real emotion in any given situation in her characters, with a touch of humor.
Lisa Loomis was born in Oakland California and raised in San Jose until she was a sophomore in high school. Her father then took a job in the San Diego area where he moved the family to Escondido, California (or hickville as she called it). She finished high school at San Pasqual High then went to junior college at Palomar JC, ultimately graduating from San Diego State University with a BS in Finance.
Finding more BS than finance with the financial meltdown in 2008 she went back to her passion of writing. Her currently published novels can be seen on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.
She now lives and writes in Park City, Utah.
Visit her at www.LisaLoomisBooks.com or on Facebook Lisa Loomis Books and Twitter @lisaoharaloomis
BUY LINKS:
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00E40H9N8
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1gIb8rA
August 6, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Interview and Excerpt: Not Quite Dead by Lyla Payne
**Interview**
When did you know writing was for you?
Looking back, I should have known a lot earlier! I’ve always been a voracious reader, and started writing my own stories young, but it never occurred to me as an actual career choice until college, when I got into writing screenplays for my film degree. It just felt natural, and the first time I’d ever tried something that I didn’t want to stop.
Why was Not Quite Dead a book you wanted to write?
It contains all of my favorite things in life – ghosts, pirates, the South, history, and family. The grandfather character is modeled on my own grandpa, and it gave me so much pleasure to turn him into a character that so many people connected with and loved.
I love your cover! Can you tell us who created it and how much input you had?
Sure! And thank you, I love it, too. It all started because I got so, SO tired of using stock photos and seeing my couple or cover on a hundred different books. That’s not only frustrating, but it’s horrible when it comes to branding the book! Long story short (too late, I know), I asked my graphic designer whose daughter is a budding photographer if she would consider shooting an original cover. We talked about the concept, and she took several options, then her mother designed the cover. I did have a good amount of input (which is one of the absolute best thing about self-publishing), too.
What is the hardest part of the writing process for you?
The hardest part for me is starting a big revision. The book is all in one piece, a solid, flowing narrative, and I’m sitting there with a 20 page edit letter detailing a million ways to rip it apart and put it back together. It’s intimidating! One I get started, it’s fine, but opening the document and making the first change is the hardest.
What are your favorite genres to read?
My go-to genre is YA contemporary, but I also love a good crime fiction or epidemic story on occasion. I’ll read pretty much anything but those are my favorites.
What do you want readers to take away from your story?
That nothing in your life can replace family, or friends that have been like family. Those relationships are the ones that will be there when everything else falls apart, and most often they’re the people with the ability to remind us what we still have. 
How important do you think social media is for authors these days?
Super important. Readers are increasingly interested in connecting with the author, or learning about the author’s life in addition to simply enjoying a book. And to be honest, we’re artists and artists live for feedback – we love it, too!
What would be your advice to aspiring writers?
Stick with something, beginning to end. Finish what you start. If you’re goal is to write as a career, treat it seriously from the beginning so other people in your life will do the same thing.
**Excerpt**
I ignore the hand, getting to my feet and brushing dirt off my dress before confronting its owner.
A man with an overly strong jaw and wavy, sun-kissed brown hair watches me with humor sparkling in his hazel eyes. Too bad he picked the wrong girl in the wrong year, because nothing about getting knocked on my ass strikes me as humorous.
Undaunted by the cocked eyebrow I shoot his direction, he keeps a hand out, now poised for a shake. “Beauregard Drayton.”
“That’s a mouthful,” I mumble, searching the ground for my purse. It’s lying in a puddle, which stirs up more irritation, as does the fact that he hasn’t moved. He’s tall, at least six foot three, and even under the blue pinstriped suit and red tie, there’s no secret why he felt like bricks. His face is hard, too—all rough angles and sharp cheekbones.
His eyes are soft, though, and the enticing mixture of green, blue, and gold still reflects amusement. “Well, what do you think?”
“About you?” I shrug, even though I didn’t mean to study him quite so openly. “Typical.”
“Interesting.”
“Actually, typical is the opposite of interesting.” I shoulder past him and continue toward my destination, annoyance tightening my chest when the sound of expensive shoes clicks on the sidewalk behind me.
Beauregard Drayton catches up, then slows his pace to match mine. It would have behooved me to drive to the Wreck, apparently. Or skip it all together, no matter how the thought of their fish tacos makes me drool.
“You can call me Beau, everyone does,” he comments, as though we’ve been carrying on a conversation.
“Thanks.”
“What should I call you?”
It’s clear my rudeness isn’t going to make him go away, and the part of me that was raised below the Mason-Dixon Line blushes in shame at my behavior. Grams would tan my hide if she could see me now. The thought of her stern, loving expression makes me relent, along with the fact that my eventful morning has worn me out. I don’t have the energy to outmaneuver him.
“Graciela Harper.”
“Lovely to meet you. Where are you going?”
The fact that he doesn’t comment on my different name moves him up in my estimation. Still, his nosiness makes me sigh. Loudly. “To get some lunch.”
“Are you meeting someone?”
“Yes. His name is Vlad and he lives to drink the blood of persistent, well-dressed men, so I suggest you run along.”
“Really? Dracula’s making a midday appearance in Heron Creek? Did you call the paper? Danny’s is going to be mad if he misses out on the interview opportunity.”
**Everyone who leaves a comment on the tour page will be entered to win a $20 Amazon gift card! Anyone who purchases a copy of Not Quite Dead by August 18 and sends their receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus.com will receive 10 bonus entries!**
Author Bio:
Lyla Payne has been publishing New Adult romance novels for a little over a year, starting with Broken at Love and continuing with the rest of the Whitman University series. She loves telling stories, discovering the little reasons people fall in love, and uncovering hidden truths in the world around us – past and present. In her spare time she cuddles her two dogs, pretends to enjoy exercising so that she can eat as much Chipotle as she wants, and harbors a deep and abiding hope that Zac Efron likes older women. She loves reading, of course, along with movies, traveling, and Irish whiskey. Lyla’s hard at work, ALWAYS, and hopes to bring you more Whitman University antics and at least one more Lowcountry ghost tale before the end of the year.
Lyla Payne is represented by Kathleen Rushall at Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.
If you want to know more, please visit her at http://lylapayne.com
If you’re a fan of Young Adult fiction–science fiction or otherwise–please check out her work that’s published under the name Trisha Leigh. http://trishaleigh.com
Links:
Buy Links for Not Quite Dead:
iBooks
August 5, 2014
CLP Blog Tours Interview and Excerpt: Reach For Your Light by Ces Creatively
**Interview**
When did you know writing was for you?
I’ve always loved writing stories. As a child I would make my own books and write stories about my toys or about places I wanted to go. My career as a graphic designer and then my 3 kids came along and my hunger for writing was lost in life but never gone. When my son died in 2006 I found writing again was a great therapy for me and I have dedicated The Light Direction book series to my little boy in heaven. It’s a passionate adult only read, a love story bursting with drama and turmoil as the characters find their journeys shadowed by darkness, however the thing I love most about Reach is the message of there always being light in dark times. Jamie Jaxx is Emma’s light.
Why was Reach For Your Light a book you wanted to write?
I have lived with the story and characters for The Light Direction series for so long now I’m not even sure when the concept started any more. A lot of it has been based on real life experience, characters and scenarios on some level and much of the supernatural content is working towards delivering a positive message of finding happiness in dark times and destiny bringing passion to life.
What is the hardest part of the writing process for you?
Finding the right place to cut the manuscript into part 1 / 2 and 3 was challenging. Reach does end with lots of questions still in the air as well as taking the characters to a certain point in their journeys. Book two certainly steps up the pace and it’s already pretty fast. This is 100% a series and not a stand alone novel.
What are your favorite genres to read?
I usually read romance of an adult nature and like characters with a bit of an edge. I loved Promises Promises and Broken Promises by Janice Baker.
What do you want readers to take away from your story?
I want them to enjoy it for a start. The characters all grow and change so much as they face the challenges before them. They are real and some are not very likeable at times. Others you’ll fall in love with no matter what. So long as the story and characters make the reader ‘feel’ then that is all I ask. At the end of the series I hope readers will take away the positive messages that dwell at the heart of the story and break through the twisting turning plot.
How important do you think social media is for authors these days?
Vital. Engaging with your audience and your advocates is so important as well as social media providing an excellent marketing platform to Reach out.
What would be your advice to aspiring writers?
Put your heart and soul into your writing then fine tune it with edits and more edits. When it is ready to to be shared with the world, remember not everyone likes the same genres and thats fine. Chic Lit often gets snubbed by those who don’t enjoy that kid of story and I’ve had some negative comments about my series only being light paranormal however tagged as a paranormal romance nonetheless. You can’t please everyone and when you reach out to your specific audience and readers connect with your words then all the time and effort you put into your book will be worth it. Believe you can do it – work hard – and see it flourish.
**Excerpt**
Leaving London
His parted lips are pressed hard against my neck in a long stabbing kiss, hot tongue flicking forcefully against my vulnerable skin. I can’t move. An overwhelming force burns through my veins and renders me tethered to this enigmatic man. Intense shards of golden light pierce my tightly closed eyes. Encapsulated by an energy so strong, so bright, so warm, so sensual, so right, it tingles and pulses from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes. I want him to touch me, to bring that powerful kiss to my ready willing mouth.
Pressure builds against my chest. He pushes into me, it hurts, suffocating, intense, the energy has changed, possessed by foreboding darkness. Amber light replaced by violent flames of crimson. I struggle, trying to get free, desperate to open my eyes but it’s no use I am trapped. Strong hands are gripping my neck and sending shockwaves of pain through my body as he lifts me clear from the ground.
“Arghhh.” With a strangled cry I startle myself awake, snapping free from another rendition of a vision that keeps tormenting my tired mind.
Squinting, I look around the station. Disoriented as I glance to my watch and realise exhaustion must have finally forced me to sleep. It has been almost 4 hours since I slunk to the floor and my eyes still sting from relentless crying. It’s dark outside now and the bright lights hanging from the vast steel beams above are worsening the throbbing pain in my head. Tears force their way down my cheeks again. Silent sobs of anguish, humiliation and disappointment with myself for being so stupid are disguised as heartache at the loss of a relationship that was apparently never more than a facade. My dry throat is constricting as I cough and almost choke. At least no one pays any attention to my spluttering this time. It was embarrassing enough when the cleaner felt the overwhelming urge to keep asking me what was wrong earlier, constantly invading my privacy with those deep brown pity eyes when I first slumped down to the ground. Urgh. I just want to get home without drawing any more attention to my sorry self.
“Idiot.” I mumble. I’m such an idiot. Sitting here in the middle of a busy London train station balling my eyes out like the world is ending. Letting him get to me like this. It’s Stupid. I’m Stupid. I’m such a Stupid Idiot.
That sick feeling rises in my throat again at the memory of how I threw myself at him on our last night together. The bastard must have been laughing at me the whole time. Breathing heavily through my nose I clutch my case closer to my chest. I’m completely wedged in the gap between the old closed news stall and the back of the touristy union jack tack gift store. I’ve found a dark corner, a void to escape to while the world passes me by.
Author Bio:
Ces Creatively is an inspiring mum of three from Poole who loves to spend time at Poole Harbour, Sandbanks Dorset. Juggling being a mum with running graphic design business www.biz-brand-buzz.co.uk, popular website with a book blog www.supportivebusinessmums.co.uk and hand made gifts business www.prettyinspiring.co.uk she miraculously also finds time to write www.the-light-direction.co.uk novel series which she has dedicated to her son in heaven. A tireless champion of small businesses and other authors, Ces has won several awards for supportive innovation and dedicates time every week to promoting others online. In a unique twist, her debut paranormal romance novel The Light Direction – Reach For Your Light features real small businesses and talented creatives.
Author Links
http://the-light-direction.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/TheLightDirection
https://twitter.com/light_direction
https://twitter.com/Ces_Creatively
BUY LINKS
UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Reach-For-Your-Light-Direction-ebook/dp/B00K6J23HI/
USA: http://www.amazon.com/Reach-For-Your-Light-Direction-ebook/dp/B00K6J23HI/
Merchandise Gifts: http://the-light-direction.co.uk/the-light-direction-shop/
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