Callie Hutton's Blog, page 10
December 23, 2012
Monday Magic welcomes Sarah Hoss!!
Thanks for having me here today Callie! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!
It’s Christmas Eve. Hard to believe it is here already. Time has flown by and another year has come and gone.
I am here to talk to you today about holiday traditions. I imagine we all have them. I have many in my family. One tradition we have with the children is that when they go to sleep, we go and get out thumb dirty with soot from the fireplace and then put a thumb print on the children’s faces. Usually the cheek or forehead. See, Santa can’t put the presents out until he knows the children are a sleep so he goes and checks to make sure. When they wake up, the first thing they do is run to the bathroom to see if Santa had left his mark!
(If you don’t have a fireplace, you can use the exhaust from a muffler. I did that once and used the black soot from a burning candle jar.)
My kids are older now. 16,14, and 11, and though we don’t use this tradition anymore, my children remember it and when they talk about it, it brings a smile to their faces. They have said it is one they will definitely pass down to their children.
My new book, HEAVEN SENT, is centered around Christmas time and has a family tradition within its pages. I want to leave you with an excerpt from my book and I hope that you all have a very Merry Christmas and I wish nothing but good tidings in the New Year!
When forgiveness heals the soul, love heals the heart.
Flight nurse Tenlee Hawkins is used to making quick decisions, but one decision she made the Christmas day her mother died haunts her. Wrestling with the past, she spirals into depression—until the day she finds a man unconscious in her woods and saves his life.
When Sam awakens in the hospital with a concussion and no memory, Tenlee rescues him again. She takes him into her home and her life. But as Sam recovers and remembers who he is, he’s torn. A guardian angel isn’t supposed to fall in love.
As the promise of true love grows, Tenlee realizes that Sam has helped her much more than she ever helped him. But Sam is filled with guilt knowing he must soon leave. Will it take a Christmas miracle to find the life with Tenlee he’s always wanted?
~EXCERPT
Red and blue lights pulsed a beat all on their own, and even though the road was slick, people ran to and fro in a frantic pace to save a woman’s life.
A car sat mangled on the side of the road. The roof, having been cut, rested on the ground beside it. A few feet beyond, a woman lay motionless. She wasn’t breathing as the EMT’s worked desperately to save her life. Sam closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. But it was no use. If he was here for an assignment then the lady on the ground was not going to live. He said another prayer, hoping that there would be no pain and she would slip easily into his world.
The woman with the red hair sat on the ground near the deceased woman and cried, rocking back and forth.
“That is her mother.”
Malachi’s deep voice broke into his thoughts and Sam turned to acknowledge him.
“No, keep watching,” Malachi said.
The scene on the screen changed. Months passed, for now the trees were green and glorious in their summer splendor. A manicured lawn hugged a log cabin, nestled in the woods. Flowers sprung from pots here and there along the ground and deck. The place looked cozy. Scenes continued to change as did the weather. Snow decorated the landscape once again.
Searching the scene for all of the details he could gather, Sam spotted her, just past the cabin, in the woods. She sat quietly on a swing hanging from a tree branch. The sadness etched in her features gripped Sam and tore at his emotions. He ached to go to her, to comfort her.
Sarah Hoss grew up believing she could try anything and if she set her mind to it, she would succeed. Sixteen years of dance lessons, Cheerleading, and school plays proved to her that her parent’s words rang true. Writing was no exception. Reading the Outlander series made her fall in love with time travels and the historical places books could take her. Always a child with a vivid imagination, she realized as an adult, she could put her imagination to good use and began writing. Marrying her very own hero, they live in Indiana in the town where she grew up. They have three beautiful children and one hyper dog. When Sarah isn’t writing, she enjoys gardening, camping, and watching her kids’ play sports.
~What is next for you?
I have a novel coming out in January titled, DREAMS OF THE HIGHLANDER. My Highlander books have three brothers and they all get their own book. So I am working on book two for that and I have another novella I am working on. Dreams of the Highlander will be out with Soul Mate Publishing.
~Where can we find you?
You can find me almost anywhere.
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sarah-Hoss/237219983049037
Twitter- @SarahHoss1
Website- www.sarahhoss.com
Blog- www.heart-of-romance.blogspot.com
You can also find me at LinkedIN and Pinterest.
I’d like to thank Sarah for spending time with us today, even though it’s such a busy time of the year. Sarah is offering a copy of her book, Heaven Sent, to one lucky commenter.
December 20, 2012
Please welcome Javier A Robayo
As a sophomore in college, Samantha Reddick meets Tony Amaya, a brokenhearted young man, whose written words she keeps as a memento of a weekend long affair. The words, written on the back of a paper placemat, become her only solid ground during a tumultuous decade that nearly destroys her, leaving her searching for answers at the bottom of the bottle. Haunted by guilt and the constant menace from a man she once loved, Samantha searches for Tony and inserts herself into his life through an online friend request to his wife, Gwen. Mutual curiosity opens the door to an unexpected friendship that becomes the catalyst of an inner battle between the better woman Samantha longs to be, and the Samantha who despises her own gaze.
December 18, 2012
Welcome to B. J. Scott on Release Day!!!
I’m very excited to welcome my friend, B. J. Scott, on the day she released her second book, Highland Quest, a sequel to her hugely successful Highland Legacy. She’s going to tell us some very interesting things about the origins behind holiday traditions:
Primarily an author of Historical Romance, when I do a blog, I normally answer the standard interview questions about what started my interest in writing, discuss something related to the craft of writing or directly related to my books—some historical fact or tradition that people might not be aware of. With the holiday season quickly approaching, I asked Callie if I could stray from the norm a bit. Instead of the typical post, we decided to share some interesting tidbits about the origins behind some of our holiday traditions. In keeping with a historical theme, I will touch on some customs that started in or before medieval times and carry through today.
At this festive time of year, we decorate with colourful lights, wreaths, garlands of pine, ivy, holly, mistletoe, and of course a tree. These symbols of the season have been around since as long as any of us can remember, but have you ever wonder why we use these things to adorn our homes?
Holly, Ivy, laurel, rosemary and other plans such as pine and Mistletoe were originally used in pre-Christian times to help celebrate the Winter Solstice Festival, to ward off evil and to celebrate the rebirth of spring. Keep in mind, at that time mid March was considered the beginning of the new year. During the dark, cold winters, the wind howling was believed to be the voices of lamenting spirits. The greenery was brought into the home as a means of protection, in addition to ability to freshen the stale air.
The Druids believed good spirits lived in the bushes of holly and wore sprigs in their hair when they took part in the rituals of cutting and gathering mistletoe. Believed to be male or female, the plant brought into the home first was said to determine who would rule the house in the upcoming year, the wife or the husband. However it was bad luck to bring either into the home before Christmas eve.
Early Christians believed holly sprang from the feet of Christ as he roamed the earth, that the spiked leaves represented the thorny crown he wore during crucifixion, and the red berries symbolized the blood he shed for mankind. To avoid being persecuted during Roman pagan festivals, Christians decorated their homes with mistletoe and holly. Knowing the Romans would not fight in the presence of either plant.
Mistletoe is another sacred plant according to the Norse, Celtic Druid and other pagan cultures. It is also believed sacred by North American Indians. Druid priests and their followers wore sprigs of holly in their hair when they entered the wood in search of mistletoe. Cut with a golden sickle, the mistletoe branches were caught before they could hit the ground, then distributed among the people, hung over doors as protection, was placed in a baby cradle to guard the infant from fairies and fed to the first cow that gave birth in the new year to protect the herd.
In Scandinavia it was linked to the Norse goddess Frigga. When he son was killed by an arrow of mistletoe she wept tears of white berries that brought him back to life. Frigga blessed the plant and kissed all who passed under it, thus spawning the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe.
As the tradition continued, sprigs of mistletoe were hung from the rafters and it was said a maiden standing beneath it could not refuse a kiss. To do so would mean she’d never marry. The man she kissed would either become her husband or a dear friend for life.
Other significant holiday plants are Laurel, if worn as a wreath on the head it symbolized victory of God over the Devil. Ivy, a plant the clings to walls and trees reminds us that we need to cling to God and religion for support. Rosemary, connected to the Virgin Mary because it was said to be her favorite plant, was said to protect people from evil, and to promote friendship and good will.
Hanging a circle of evergreen in the form of a wreath during the winter months goes back to Roman times when they were hung on the doors after a victory. Roman women wore wreaths in their hair, as part of wedding ceremonies. The word wreath, ‘writhen or writhe’ in Old English meant to twist. Evergreen, a symbol of eternal life was thought to have special powers and used to decorate. Twisted into a wreath and adorned with holly and other sacred plants they offered protection and hope for the spring.
Evergreen trees were used to celebrate winter festivals both pagan and Christian for thousands of years. No one is sure when they were first used as a Christmas tree, but it likely began in Northern Europe at least 1000 years ago. Scandinavian and German cultures were the first to use them and the tradition spread throughout Europe and later the new world. Queen Victoria, made the indoor tree popular during her reign, given her husband’s German ancestry.
So the next time you hang a garland or decorate your tree, remember where the traditions first started.
Here is a traditional Scottish desert for you to try
Cranachan Recipe
Serves 6
60g of coarse oatmeal
300g of fresh or frozen raspberries
600ml double cream
3 tablespoons of runny honey
3 tablespoons of malt whisky
Toast the oatmeal until it is golden brown, whip the double cream until it is thick, stir in the whisky honey and oatmeal and fold in the raspberries gently. Spoon into individual glasses.
Serve.
Yum. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Here’s a little bit about B. J.:
With a passion for historical romance, history in general, and anything Celtic, B.J. always has an exciting work in progress. Each story offers a blend of romance, adventure, suspense, and, where appropriate, a dab of comic relief. Carefully researched historical facts are woven into each manuscript, providing a backdrop from which steamy romance, gripping plots, and vivid characters—dashing alpha heroes and resourceful, beguiling heroines you can’t help but admire—spring to life. A PAN member of RWA, World Romance Writers, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, and Savvy Authors, B.J. also writes contemporary, paranormal, time travel, and romantic suspense.
C.S. Lewis first captivated B. J.’s imagination in the fourth grade, and her desire to write sprang from there. Following a career in nursing and child and youth work, B.J. married her knight-in-shining-armor, and he whisked her away to his castle by the sea. In reality, they share their century-old home in a small Canadian town on the shore of Lake Erie with four dogs and a cat. When she is not working at her childcare job, on her small business, or writing, you will find her reading, doing a variety of hand crafts, camping, or antique hunting.
And now her new book:
HIGHLAND QUEST Book 2 of the Highlander Series.
Blurb:
No longer content in the shadows of his older brothers, Bryce Fraser rejoins the fight for Scottish independence, but arrives too late to inform his fellow patriots of a surprise ambush. Seriously wounded and left for dead, Bryce awakens to find Fallon MacCrery tending his wounds, a twist of fate that rekindles passion and desire he’d vowed to forget.
Gifted with second sight and having lost everyone she ever held dear, Fallon believes her ability and her love are curses that if pursued will mean Bryce’s demise. But when she learns the English army plans to destroy the Bruce and his followers, she risks all to warn them, even her heart.
Can their unspoken love stand the test in a time of uncertainty and war, or will the plans of their enemy, a traitorous laird from a rival clan keep them apart forever?
Excerpt
Loch Ryan Scotland, 1307
“Wa . . . water,” Bryce mumbled, but there was no one there to listen.
His throat was parched and he ran his tongue over dry, cracked lips, but his action offered no relief. An entire loch lay only a few feet away, but he couldn’t muster the strength to drag himself to the bank and quench his thirst.
“Cold . . . so cold.”
Despite the sun beating down on him, he’d swear he was encased in ice. His life’s blood seeped from his wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. He tried to raise his head, but the excruciating pain radiating across his chest stole his breath away.
Was this what it felt like to die? If so, he prayed the Almighty would be merciful and take him now.
Bryce moaned, a shift in his position bringing on another nauseating wave of agony. He sucked in a short, sharp, gulp of air and stretched his arm out as far as he could, his fingers grappling in the dirt.
If only I could reach my sword.
Beads of perspiration dampened his brow. As the strength slowly drained from his body, drawing a simple breath became more difficult. The end grew near. No time to make amends for sins of the past, and he had committed his share.
Regrets? He had those, too. “Fallon.” He whispered her name then heaved a ragged sigh. He could see her beautiful face, her soft, porcelain-like skin with just a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Raven tresses hanging loose in a riot of curls down her back. Her petite, slender body had just the right curves to drive a man wild with desire. Mysterious sapphire eyes that held him captive and a heart-shaped mouth he’d never tire of kissing. If he had one wish before he died, it would be to hold her in his arms one more time, to find himself nestled between her thighs, making love until neither of them could take anymore.
But he’d missed his chance when she left Fraser Castle after his brother’s wedding, returning with her clan to their home in the borderlands. Determined not to allow Fallon, or any woman, to breach the protective wall he’d built around his heart, he’d let her go.
A restless spirit, he longed for adventure. While he admired his two older brothers, he was tired of living in their shadows. Alasdair had turned down the position of Laird when their father and older brother were killed at Berwick on Tweed. Connor, the next in line, had accepted the responsibility and did the Clan proud. He was happily married and Bryce was certain his wee son, Andrew, would be raised to follow in his father’s footsteps.
Bryce held no land or title. Until he had made a name for himself and earned these things, he had nothing to offer a wife. But marriage and family were not part of his immediate plans. He loved women, all women. Be they large, small, short, tall, fair, or plain, it made no difference as long as they were willing to warm his bed, and expected no long-term commitment in return.
A rogue many would say, but he made no secret of his intentions. So far, this way of life had served him well, and should he die in battle, he’d leave no one behind to mourn his loss.
When he was a lad of sixteen, he’d made the mistake of falling for the daughter of the village smithy. Totally enamored with each other, they’d vowed their eternal love and he believed they’d marry some day.
He swallowed hard at the ball of emotion rising in his throat, and clenched his teeth against the sudden ache gripping his heart. He’d heard when a man is about to die, his life experiences flash before his eyes. But some memories were far too painful to revisit.
He balled his fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to think about the past and didn’t want a woman in his life. While Fallon was the only lass who had tempted him to stray from his chosen path, she was better off without him. Or so he’d told himself when he returned from a morning ride to learn she’d left Fraser Castle without saying goodbye.
Clinging to the memory of their brief time together, Bryce closed his eyes and waited for death to take him. But distant voices and the sound of approaching footfall alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone.
“Over here,” a man shouted. “I think this one is still breathing.”
“Aye, he’s alive, but for how long? The lad has lost a lot of blood,” another man commented and clucked his tongue.
Hovering on the edge of consciousness, Bryce heard the conversation going on between two men, maybe more. He tried to open his eyes, but the lids proved too heavy.
Judging by the familiar burr, these men were Scottish, but so were the traitorous bastards who had attacked them.
For a sennight, he’d ridden day and night. However in the end, he was too late to warn the Bruce’s brothers and their small group of Irish and Scottish islanders of the impending threat. Rushing headlong into an ambush and outnumbered four to one, their fate was sealed.
This wasn’t the first time the MacDougall Clan sided with the English. Staunch supporters of John Comyn’s bid for the Scottish crown, they’d turned their swords and their loyalty against their countrymen when Comyn was murdered at Grey Fryer’s Abbey and Robert the Bruce was accused of the deed.
After the massacre at Methven—the last major battle fought between the English and the Bruce before he went into hiding—the buggers lay in wait, attacking the Scottish survivors as they tried to make their way to the Argyle Mountains to regroup. The battle of Dail Righ would forever be a stain on the MacDougall clan’s name, and a battle Bryce would long remember.
Nor would he forget their leader. Today he’d had the long-awaited chance to make good on his oath to see the blackguard pay for his treasonous acts, but he’d failed. Instead, he’d found himself on the receiving end of Dungal’s sword.
“I canna believe Scots would kill Scots. These poor fellows dinna have a prayer of making it to shore unharmed,” the first man said.
“Aye, the ship was run aground and there must be at least fifty dead men on the bank of the loch. There appears to be a mix of Irish and Scots, but nary an English soldier or a MacDougall plaid among them.” The man speaking nudged Bryce’s shoulder with the toe of his boot. “This appears to be the only one alive.”
A dizzying wave of excruciating pain shot through Bryce’s chest as he was rolled onto to his side.
“What do you plan to do with this fellow, Donald?” the second man asked. “We canna just leave him here to bleed to death.”
“We’ll take him with us. My niece has some knowledge of healing. She cared for my wife when she had the pox . . . rest her soul.” Donald paused for a moment before he continued. “After Mairi died, the lass decided to stay on for a while. Mayhap there is something she can do for him. Best we make haste. I dinna want to be here if the bastards return.”
“I’ll be surprised if he survives the journey. But we can always bury him along the way if need be,” the second man responded.
Strong hands slid beneath Bryce’s shoulders, raising him to a sitting position, then someone grabbed his legs. A few garbled words of protest were all he could manage before darkness closed around him.
Web site www.authorbjscott.com
Blog : http://authorbjscott.wordpress.com/
Buy Links : www.soulmatepublishing.com www.amazon.com www.kobo.com www.barnesandnoble.com
Book trailer for Highland Quest http://youtu.be/P-T5WWSFBGI
Highland Legacy On sale from Dec11th to Dec 25th for $2.99
Highland Legacy, book one in the Highlander series. An Amazon best seller in historical romance and finalist in the Oklahoma RWA International Digital Awards 2012. Is available in print and e-book
Trailer
Buy link http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Legacy-ebook/dp/B0065KX8P8
December 17, 2012
Meet Bev Irwin!!
Let’s welcome Bev Irwin who also writes under Kendra James. She has an impressive list of books that’s kept her busy writing. Before we get to that, let’s here a little bit about her:
If you could be a character in one of your books, who would it be, and why?
Oh, I would love to be my ghost, Amanda in GHOSTLY JUSTICE. She is such a pain in the neck. My main character, fifteen year-old Daria is just learning that she is psychic and not happy about it, especially when Amanda starts harassing her at home, at school, even when she is sleeping.
Now that Amanda has finally found someone she can make contact with, she is going to make sure Daria helps her no matter how unwilling she is. Amanda wants what she wants and won’t stop until she gets it. Wouldn’t it be fun to be a ghost and haunt people? Who would you haunt if you could? Would you be a nice or a nasty ghost?
If you hadn’t decided to become a writer, what other occupation can you see yourself in?
I’ve been a registered nurse for many years, but had life been different, I would love to have spent my whole life working with horses. I have been a horse lover since I could walk. I read every Walter Farley (The Black Stallion) book that he wrote and I saw every horse movie that was made. My time owing horses came later in life but the love of these magnificent creatures has never waned.
Do you prefer redeemable villains, or like them nasty through and through?
I seem to have my villains be nasty throughout the book but they have always have a background reason, or a trauma, or mental illness that has brought them to the mental state where they are now and the actions that they commit. I do like the end of the story to have justification for the wrong the villains have done.
Is finding the right title easy or hard?
The titles seem to just come to me and so far none of the titles of my books has been changed.
They are in order of publication: WHEN HEARTS COLLIDE, GHOSTLY JUSTICE, MISSING CLAYTON, IN HIS FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS, and coming in January, WITHOUT CONSENT.
One author, before I was published, asked if he could use my title, WITHOUT CONSENT. I felt like he was saying, well you’re not going to get published and need it. Well it is being used and I have plenty more in the WIP file.
Now for a few fun things. Mountain home or beach house?
Definitely the beach house. I am a scorpio and I have an affinity to water. It is soothing to my soul and fuels my creative juices. When the money comes rolling in, that is what I plan to buy, a place on the water. I would love to be able to wake up and see water before I even get out of bed. I would have a place with tons of windows overlooking the water. A place where I could canoe or kayak every day.
Cat or dog?
I have two cats. Zeus hid in the trunk of my car when I moved from the country. The other, Jackson, was given to me by my daughter when she moved out to Fort MacMurray, Alberta.
But really I am a dog person. My two collie crosses passed away this last year but I now have a very energetic, awesome mix breed puppy. Her mother is a Bernese Mountain dog crossed with a Rottweiler and the dad is a border collie crossed with a black lab and voila, I have dog that looks like a golden retriever, go figure.
But the weird thing is that when I wrote IN HIS FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS, a YA novel about a fourteen year old boy having to search in Northern Ontario for his father, I had the boy find a large blonde dog in a trap. He rescues the dog and they become friends, even sharing the food they both catch.
I picked Shayla out of a litter of ten never thinking she would grow to resemble the dog in my book. When Hallmark (dreaming here) makes a movie out of IN HIS FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS, I want Shayla, to be the dog in the book.
Beach vacation or sightseeing?
I want to live by the water but I would rather have a vacation sightseeing. There are so many wonderful places to see in this world and I would love to see them all. Once I win the lottery I am going to retire and travel and write.
Award-winning author, Bev Irwin, lives in London, Ontario, with two cats. One that hid in her car when she moved from the farm and one dropped off by her daughter when she moved to Northern Alberta. Her three children have flown the coup, but her granddaughter, Jasmine, is a frequent visitor.
As a registered nurse, she likes to add a touch of medical to her romance and mystery novels. She writes YA, children’s, and poetry. She prefers spending time in her garden, writing, and reading to being in the kitchen.
Her debut novel, WHEN HEARTS COLLIDE, a contemporary romance, came out in December of 2011 
with Soul Mate Publishing under the pen name of Kendra James. Her YA paranormal, GHOSTLY JUSTICE, was released in print and ebook by Black Opal Books on April 14th, 2012. MISSING CLAYTON, a suspense novel, was released July 28th. A youth adventure, IN HIS FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS, was released Oct 27th. A medical/police thriller, WITHOUT CONSENT, with a blurb from Lee Child as a ‘fine medical thriller’, will be released with Black Opal Books on January 26, 2013.
I want to thank Bev for taking the time to be with us here today. You can check out her books on her author page at Amazon here: Bev Irwin
December 3, 2012
Monday Magic Presents Rowena May O’Sullivan
HI Rowena, and welcome to Monday Magic. It’s great to have you here.
Thank you for hosting me on Monday Magic. I’m excited to be here with you and really appreciate the opportunity of being featured.
Are you so passionate about reading that you’ll read just about anywhere?
As a child, I often dreamed of becoming a writer, mostly wanting to be one of the characters in the Famous Five series by Enid Blyton and then writing my own adventures. I found it quite disappointing that life really wasn’t like that at all. But reading became a passion and I worked my way through all the books in the young adult section of the library, before venturing across to adult books. One day while walking home from school I was reading Joan of Arc and actually fell down a manhole men were working on. I remember my foot knocking something and me thinking, I’ll walk around it. Yes that’s right. I walked round a drum put there expressly to stop people falling in. Talk about embarrassing. Fortunately, the men who were working at the site were having an afternoon tea break otherwise I might have ended up as a fairy atop of one of their helmets. I imagine it wouldn’t have been all that comfortable! And it really wasn’t the type of fairy tale I had imagined for myself. It was all so embarrassing (I had bruised knees for months) it cured me of walking and reading at the same time. Since leaving school, I ventured to Europe, lived and worked in London for a couple of years before returning home to New Zealand to bring up my son. I’ve worked in a number of different jobs, most of them in offices. Although for a couple of years I was a postal worker as well. My body may have been at work but my head was mostly in the clouds. It still is. Eventually those daydreams turned into stories of my own. At first it was a couple of short story competitions, for which I received perfume, both times as prizes. Such success fueled my desire to write something longer and preferring publication to perfume I set about writing my first book. Five books later, I’m finally published with The Silver Rose, a paranormal romance, and hopefully, the first in a trilogy about three sisters, all powerful witches. It’s such an amazing feeling to achieve a long-held dream. I’m currently working on The Jade Dragon, book 2 in the series.
I still read where I can. Now I have a Kindle I can take to work to read (during breaks that is). I’ll curl up on the couch to read, in the bath, in bed, while in a traffic jam, at the beach.
What I look like –
A bit about The Silver Rose…
Four hundred years ago, Immortal Warlock Aden Dragunis defied his elders and married a mortal without magical potential. On his first wedding anniversary he crafted his Beloved a magical silver rose which bloomed only for her. When she and his mortal children died one by one, he buried his heart with them and vowed never to love again.
Sent by the Supreme Coven, Marylebone, to ensure the mortal witch Rosa Greenwood meets her fate as the Bells of Marylebone have decreed, Aden’s vow begins to unravel when he discovers Rosa in possession of the silver rose.
Rosa risks being consumed by her own power. She must bind her magic with her destined mate within one calendar month, or surrender her magic forever. If she fails to do either, Marylebone’s Dragons will hunt her down, burn her magic from her, and she will die.
Convincing Aden he is her destined mate is proving to be more difficult than she ever imagined. With time running out the only option left is to sacrifice her magic but she knows she will be a mere shell without a soul if she does.
Then she learns Aden, the one who could ultimately save her, is also the one sent to kill her should she fail.
Buy link: Amazon
Now for a few fun things:
Mountain home or beach house?
Beach house. NZ is surrounded by beaches and there’s nothing lovelier than a sunny day, a cold drink or icecream, while lying on a blanket at the beach with a good book and friends to natter with. There are several beautiful beaches only ten-fifteen minutes drive from where I live so I’m spoilt for choice.
Gloomy day or sunshine to get your muse going?
Sunshine, clear blue skies do it for me every time. NZ is knowing as Aotearoa which translates to “The Long White Cloud” and it definitely lives up to it’s name, so a sunny day is always welcome.
Coffee or tea?
Both! Tea first thing in the morning when I arise. A decaf coffee when I get to work!
Cat or dog?
I have to say cat! I’ve been cat sitting for four years now, as my best friends daughter and son-in-law went travelling to Europe and their still there! I love Bali to pieces and she sleeps on my bed every night.
Beach vacation or sightseeing?
Oh gosh! Both! Sightseeing when travelling. But for real relaxation the beach.
Jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers, or pencil skirt, silk blouse, and killer heels?
Jeans t-shirt with killer heels!
Carrie Underwood or Lady Gaga?
I don’t think I’m either. I’m a little bit Zooey Deschenal I’m thinking, only older! I’d sure like to be able to sing like Carrie Underwood though.
If you would like to learn more about me or subscribe to my newsletter (which will only be sent out when something very, very important happens), my website is www.rowenamayosullivan.com
I want to thank Rowena for visiting with us today, and sharing information about herself and her book which I think sounds fascinating. I know she’d appreciate some comments, and is offering a $5 gift card from Amazon for one lucky commenter. Rowena lives in NZ, so her response to our comments may be a bit behind the rest of us, but I promise she will be here with us!
December 1, 2012
The Christmas Frenzy
We’re probably all caught up in it right now. The Christmas frenzy. Magazines are full of glossy pictures of the perfectly decorated room, or the perfectly set table, the perfect family all gathered around.
While I’m sure most of our memories of this time of the year are good ones, if you’re old enough, there are bound to be some that bring sadness. A person missing at the perfectly set table. Past family gatherings that were more stressful than happy. Years where money was a problem and the additional burden of Christmas pushed us over the edge
.
I choose to remember the good times. Church services that were particularly moving, a Christmas where I got my much desired toy from Santa, the Christmas brunch my family does every year, but I’ve missed in the five years I’ve lived out of state. Lots of laughter, good food and fun.
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With victims of Sandy still suffering, this time of the year has to be especially bleak. If you haven’t done so yet, take a few dollars out of your Christmas fund, and send them to the Red Cross to help those who are in the middle of probably the worst time of their life. http://www.redcross.org/
Then hug those close to you, and rejoice in having your loved ones near.
How are you handling the Christmas frenzy? Almost finished shopping? Haven’t started? (me) Good memories, bad ones? Wish it was all over, or relishing every minute?
November 23, 2012
Flappers, Flasks and Foul Play!! By: Ellen Mansoor Collier
Blurb:“Boardwalk Empire” meets “The Great Gatsby” in this soft-boiled historical mystery, inspired by actual events. Rival gangs fight over booze and bars during Prohibition in 1920s Galveston: the “Sin City of the Southwest.” Jazz Cross, a 21-year-old society reporter, feels caught between two clashing cultures: the seedy speakeasy underworld and the snooty social circles she covers in the Galveston Gazette.
During a night out with her best friend, Jazz witnesses a bar fight at the Oasis–a speakeasy secretly owned by her black-sheep half-brother, Sammy Cook. But when a big-shot banker with a hidden past collapses there and later dies, she suspects foul play. Was it an accident or a mob hit?
Soon handsome young Prohibition Agent James Burton raids the Oasis, threatening to shut it down if Sammy doesn’t talk. Suspicious, he pursues Jazz but, despite her mixed feelings, she refuses to rat on Sammy. As turf wars escalate between two real-life Galveston gangs, Sammy is accused of murder. Jazz must risk her life and career to find the killer, exposing the dark side of Galveston’s glittering society.
Amazon
Barnes & NOble
Smashwords
Excerpt:Why in the world was Agent Burton here? Everyone stopped working to watch him make his grand entrance. People don’t usually parade around in a newsroom: They sort of shuffle or stumble or stomp—unless a story’s really hot, then they’ll run. I felt like running away too, but I stayed glued to my chair, pretending to work, my heart racing. What did he want from me?
Burton seemed to enjoy the attention as he headed my way. He was hard to ignore: Standing before me, all six feet-plus of golden skin and hair, he towered over my desk. Looking up, I noticed the curious eyes watching us in the too-quiet newsroom. The reporters stopped typing, fingers poised over keys, hoping for a scoop. My boss stared with unabashed interest.
“To what do I owe this disturbance?” I adjusted my cloche, acting nonchalant.
He grinned at me, then looked around the suddenly still office. “I need to ask you a few questions. Can we go somewhere private?”
“What do you want?” I put on a brave face so the newsboys wouldn’t see me sweat.
Burton scanned the hushed room. “You really want to discuss it here, out in public?”
He had a point. Did I want the whole staff listening in on my private conversation? He probably wanted to discuss Sammy, who was no one else’s business.
“Let’s go outside,” I agreed. Head down, I followed him past a leering Hank, feeling like a naughty kid going to the principal’s office.
Nathan entered the newsroom, a camera slung over his shoulder, stopping to stare at Burton. “Jazz, is everything jake?”
“Everything’s berries.” I smiled to pacify him but, I admit, I had the jitters.
“I remember him. Your boyfriend?” Burton seemed amused.
“He’s the staff photographer.” I ignored his crack. “And a good friend.”
Outside, I felt safe among the throng of people and automobiles passing by in a rush. The hustle and bustle of the streets and sidewalks seemed almost comforting. I looked around for Golliwog, our resident stray cat, but she must have been making her daily rounds for scraps.
“How was lunch?” In broad daylight, Burton didn’t seem quite as menacing or intimidating. Besides, a group of hard-boiled reporters peered out the newsroom, spying on us.
“Fine.” I covered my growling stomach. “What brings you here?”
“Sorry to barge in that way.” He smiled, tugging on his hat. “But I had to get your attention. You wouldn’t give me the time of day the other night.”
“Can you blame me? A raid isn’t exactly the best way to meet new people.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, jingling some change. “Perhaps we can talk over dinner, instead of standing out here on the sidewalk?”
“Dinner?” Was he serious? “Just like that?” I snapped my fingers. “You waltz in as if you owned the place—like you did at the Oasis—and expect me to dine out with you, a total stranger, because of your badge? You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister.”
“I wouldn’t be a Prohibition agent if I didn’t.” He looked smug. “How about tonight?”
“Tonight? I usually work late.” I admit, I was curious. What did he really want?
“Every night?” He raised his brows. “Don’t they let you off for good behavior?”
“For starters, I don’t even know you and what I do know, I don’t like at all.” I squinted in the sun. “And I don’t appreciate the way you bullied us at the Oasis. I thought people were innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.” I wasn’t usually so bold and blunt with strangers, especially lawmen. Maybe it was his youth, or maybe I’d finally found my moxie.
“You must mean Sammy. Fair enough.” He held up his hands. “If it makes you feel any better, my gun wasn’t loaded that night.”
“Small comfort now, after you scared everyone half to death.” So it was all an act?
Burton looked down at his boots, as if reconsidering his options. “I hoped you could get to know me over dinner, but how about a quick bite now? I haven’t eaten.”
“Why not?” I nodded, not wanting to let on that I was famished.
Burton stopped at a sandwich vendor on the corner, and tried to pay for my lunch and Nehi, but I pulled out a quarter before he did. It wasn’t a date!
“Where can we talk, in private?” He motioned towards the newsroom. “Away from prying eyes and ears.”
Anxious, I led him towards a city park and we sat on opposite ends of a bench, my clutch bag like a barricade, keeping my distance.
“So what’s the emergency? Why did you come by today, out of the blue? I hope I’m not under arrest!” I half-joked
Author Website
Goodreads
Media PageEllen Mansoor Collier is a Houston-based freelance magazine writer whose articles and essays have been published in several national magazines including: FAMILY CIRCLE, MODERN BRIDE, GLAMOUR, BIOGRAPHY, COSMOPOLITAN, COUNTRY ACCENTS, PLAYGIRL, etc. Several of her short stories (both mystery and romance) have appeared in WOMAN’S WORLD.
A flapper at heart, she’s the owner of DECODAME, specializing in Deco to retro vintage items (www.art-decodame.com). Formerly she’s worked as a magazine editor/writer, and in advertising sales and public relations. She graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in Magazine Journalism. During college, she once worked as a cocktail waitress, a short-lived experience since she was clueless about cocktails. Flappers, Flasks and Foul Play is her first novel, inspired by real people and places. Currently, she’s working on the sequel.
“When you grow up in Houston, Galveston becomes like a second home. I had no idea this sleepy beach town had such a wild and colorful past until I began doing research, and became fascinated by the legends and stories of the 1920s. I love the glamour and excitment of The Jazz Age, but Prohibition was also such a dark and dangerous time in American history. Jazz isn’t a debutante or socialite, she’s a reporter caught in between the two halves of Galveston society, struggling to do the right thing despite all the temptations and decadence of the era.”
Flappers, Flasks and Foul Play!! By: Ellen Collier
Blurb:
“Boardwalk Empire” meets “The Great Gatsby” in this soft-boiled historical mystery, inspired by actual events. Rival gangs fight over booze and bars during Prohibition in 1920s Galveston: the “Sin City of the Southwest.” Jazz Cross, a 21-year-old society reporter, feels caught between two clashing cultures: the seedy speakeasy underworld and the snooty social circles she covers in the Galveston Gazette.
During a night out with her best friend, Jazz witnesses a bar fight at the Oasis–a speakeasy secretly owned by her black-sheep half-brother, Sammy Cook. But when a big-shot banker with a hidden past collapses there and later dies, she suspects foul play. Was it an accident or a mob hit?
Soon handsome young Prohibition Agent James Burton raids the Oasis, threatening to shut it down if Sammy doesn’t talk. Suspicious, he pursues Jazz but, despite her mixed feelings, she refuses to rat on Sammy. As turf wars escalate between two real-life Galveston gangs, Sammy is accused of murder. Jazz must risk her life and career to find the killer, exposing the dark side of Galveston’s glittering society.
Amazon
Barnes & NOble
Smashwords
Excerpt:
Why in the world was Agent Burton here? Everyone stopped working to watch him make his grand entrance. People don’t usually parade around in a newsroom: They sort of shuffle or stumble or stomp—unless a story’s really hot, then they’ll run. I felt like running away too, but I stayed glued to my chair, pretending to work, my heart racing. What did he want from me?
Burton seemed to enjoy the attention as he headed my way. He was hard to ignore: Standing before me, all six feet-plus of golden skin and hair, he towered over my desk. Looking up, I noticed the curious eyes watching us in the too-quiet newsroom. The reporters stopped typing, fingers poised over keys, hoping for a scoop. My boss stared with unabashed interest.
“To what do I owe this disturbance?” I adjusted my cloche, acting nonchalant.
He grinned at me, then looked around the suddenly still office. “I need to ask you a few questions. Can we go somewhere private?”
“What do you want?” I put on a brave face so the newsboys wouldn’t see me sweat.
Burton scanned the hushed room. “You really want to discuss it here, out in public?”
He had a point. Did I want the whole staff listening in on my private conversation? He probably wanted to discuss Sammy, who was no one else’s business.
“Let’s go outside,” I agreed. Head down, I followed him past a leering Hank, feeling like a naughty kid going to the principal’s office.
Nathan entered the newsroom, a camera slung over his shoulder, stopping to stare at Burton. “Jazz, is everything jake?”
“Everything’s berries.” I smiled to pacify him but, I admit, I had the jitters.
“I remember him. Your boyfriend?” Burton seemed amused.
“He’s the staff photographer.” I ignored his crack. “And a good friend.”
Outside, I felt safe among the throng of people and automobiles passing by in a rush. The hustle and bustle of the streets and sidewalks seemed almost comforting. I looked around for Golliwog, our resident stray cat, but she must have been making her daily rounds for scraps.
“How was lunch?” In broad daylight, Burton didn’t seem quite as menacing or intimidating. Besides, a group of hard-boiled reporters peered out the newsroom, spying on us.
“Fine.” I covered my growling stomach. “What brings you here?”
“Sorry to barge in that way.” He smiled, tugging on his hat. “But I had to get your attention. You wouldn’t give me the time of day the other night.”
“Can you blame me? A raid isn’t exactly the best way to meet new people.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, jingling some change. “Perhaps we can talk over dinner, instead of standing out here on the sidewalk?”
“Dinner?” Was he serious? “Just like that?” I snapped my fingers. “You waltz in as if you owned the place—like you did at the Oasis—and expect me to dine out with you, a total stranger, because of your badge? You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister.”
“I wouldn’t be a Prohibition agent if I didn’t.” He looked smug. “How about tonight?”
“Tonight? I usually work late.” I admit, I was curious. What did he really want?
“Every night?” He raised his brows. “Don’t they let you off for good behavior?”
“For starters, I don’t even know you and what I do know, I don’t like at all.” I squinted in the sun. “And I don’t appreciate the way you bullied us at the Oasis. I thought people were innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.” I wasn’t usually so bold and blunt with strangers, especially lawmen. Maybe it was his youth, or maybe I’d finally found my moxie.
“You must mean Sammy. Fair enough.” He held up his hands. “If it makes you feel any better, my gun wasn’t loaded that night.”
“Small comfort now, after you scared everyone half to death.” So it was all an act?
Burton looked down at his boots, as if reconsidering his options. “I hoped you could get to know me over dinner, but how about a quick bite now? I haven’t eaten.”
“Why not?” I nodded, not wanting to let on that I was famished.
Burton stopped at a sandwich vendor on the corner, and tried to pay for my lunch and Nehi, but I pulled out a quarter before he did. It wasn’t a date!
“Where can we talk, in private?” He motioned towards the newsroom. “Away from prying eyes and ears.”
Anxious, I led him towards a city park and we sat on opposite ends of a bench, my clutch bag like a barricade, keeping my distance.
“So what’s the emergency? Why did you come by today, out of the blue? I hope I’m not under arrest!” I half-joked
Author Website
Goodreads
Media Page
Ellen Mansoor Collier is a Houston-based freelance magazine writer whose articles and essays have been published in several national magazines including: FAMILY CIRCLE, MODERN BRIDE, GLAMOUR, BIOGRAPHY, COSMOPOLITAN, COUNTRY ACCENTS, PLAYGIRL, etc. Several of her short stories (both mystery and romance) have appeared in WOMAN’S WORLD.
A flapper at heart, she’s the owner of DECODAME, specializing in Deco to retro vintage items (www.art-decodame.com). Formerly she’s worked as a magazine editor/writer, and in advertising sales and public relations. She graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in Magazine Journalism. During college, she once worked as a cocktail waitress, a short-lived experience since she was clueless about cocktails. Flappers, Flasks and Foul Play is her first novel, inspired by real people and places. Currently, she’s working on the sequel.
“When you grow up in Houston, Galveston becomes like a second home. I had no idea this sleepy beach town had such a wild and colorful past until I began doing research, and became fascinated by the legends and stories of the 1920s. I love the glamour and excitment of The Jazz Age, but Prohibition was also such a dark and dangerous time in American history. Jazz isn’t a debutante or socialite, she’s a reporter caught in between the two halves of Galveston society, struggling to do the right thing despite all the temptations and decadence of the era.”
November 22, 2012
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!
As we bow our heads over our meal today, surrounded by family and friends, let’s remember all those who are missing loved ones. Either they are fighting overseas, or have gone to their eternal reward, or simply chose to spend their time elsewhere.
For as wonderful as most of us find this day to be, there are those who can’t wait for the entire season to end because they’re hurting so much. Victims of the hurricane, the unemployed, and those battling illness need our thoughts and prayers.
For better or worse, our country just passed through an important election. Let’s also give thanks today to live in a country where an election doesn’t end in bloodshed. And let’s all pray for our president who has to shoulder the burden of leading this great country of us.
Happy thanksgiving. And welcome to the Christmas frenzy!!
On a lighter note, once you’ve digested your scrumptious meal, grab a copy of Miss Merry’s Christmas or A Wife by Christmas, and chortle your way through the rest of the day. Amazon – Callie Hutton Author page
November 19, 2012
Monday Magic Presents M J Schiller
I’m pleased to introduce M J Schiller and her book Taken by Storm. It’s an exciting read, a wonderful love story. But before we share more information on that, let’s hear from M J and put her on the hot seat.
Callie: Welcome, M J. It’s so nice to have another Crimson Romance author on my website the same day my Crimson Romance releases. Now, if you could be a character in one of your books, who would it be, and why?
I’d have to say Beth, from my next book, which will be coming out in January. In Trapped Under Ice, Beth Donovan is sort of me, or an idealized me. (She’s skinnier, prettier, wittier, and more thoughtful!) Beth is a lunch lady/romance writer, like myself, only she ends up with the rock star. So, basically, it’s my wildest fantasy come true.
Callie: So nice to play around with our fantasies isn’t it? Now, if you hadn’t decided to become a writer, what other occupation can you see yourself in?
I think I would enjoy being a book cover artist. I would have a lot to learn about graphic design, and would need a lot of experience before I became good at it, but I find it interesting. If I could learn the ins and outs, I think I might be good at it.
Callie: Maybe one day you’ll be designing your own book covers. Who knows? Do you prefer redeemable villains, or like them nasty through and through?
A little of both, if that’s possible? My villains are pretty dark characters, but I’d at least like my readers to see why they are that way. Their backgrounds and motivations don’t excuse their behaviors, by any means, but they do explain them.
Callie: Everyone seems to have a different way to do things, so how do you pick the names of your characters?
I actually have a list I compiled, with girls from work, of sexy male names and female names we like. Last names are harder, for me. I want it to be somewhat distinctive, but not “out there,” and, of course, it has to fit with the first name I’ve chosen. For my new release, “Taken by Storm,” I had to do things a little differently. Since the book is set in a fictional place a lot like Persia, I couldn’t draw my names from my standard list. I looked up Persian names and then scanned for names that sounded right for my character, and whose meaning fit them. For example, Bashea, the heroine, means “lips of the Gods,” and this actually comes into play in the story.
Callie: I imagine an exotic place like that would require different types of names. Is finding the right title easy or hard?
Most of the time it’s pretty easy for me. I even have one book inspired by the title! “Taken by Storm” was a little harder. The editors at Crimson Romance didn’t like my original title, and I agreed with their arguments. We tossed about a lot of names, most of which ended up sounding corny, but when I came up with “Taken by Storm,” I knew it was the one. It fits the book on so many levels.
Callie: I agree, I think it’s a wonderful name. Speaking of Crimson, what did you do immediately after receiving your first ‘call?’
Having had a book contract turn sour in the past, (the company closed before it even opened) I tempered my enthusiasm. Now that the book is being released, I’m thrilled! It was also neat that within a few weeks, two of my good friends were offered contracts on books they’d been writing, too.
Now a little bit about who you are:
Jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers, or pencil skirt, silk blouse, and killer heels?
I’d like to think I’m a pencil skirt, silk blouse, and killer heels kind of girl trapped within a jean, t-shirt, and tennies kind of body.
Thanks for having me, Callie! This was fun!
M.J. Schiller
Blurb for Taken by Storm:
Born from the fire of a palace coup, the relationship between the king of Avistad’s son Prince Tahj and the captive girl Bashea burns with a passion that neither of them quite understands. The pair is drawn closer together as they face enemy soldiers, a screaming panther, even the scathing winds of a desert storm.
After what she has been through, Bashea is afraid to trust and her fiery nature is both what appeals to Tahj and what drives him crazy. It takes a long separation to bring them back to each other, but when Tahj does return, it is once again during a battle with his greatest enemy, Lord Boltar. But now Lord Boltar, who has been forced beyond reason by Tahj’s success in retaking the throne, is an even more dangerous threat than before. Reunited, will Tahj and Bashea be strong enough to defeat their twisted and powerful enemy?
Find Taken by Storm at Amazon, BN.com, and through most e-Book retailers.
Visit me at www.mjschiller.com, M.J. on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest.
Also post Crimson: www.crimsonromance.com
