Jerrie Alexander's Blog, page 6
November 25, 2013
Behind the Curtain with Beverley Bateman
Fellow RWA and Kiss of Death member, Beverley Bateman, joins me today. I think you’ll enjoy getting to know her. For sure, you’ll want to stick around and take a look at her book! For a chance at a free ebook, be sure to leave your comment and email address, along with your guess as to which of her three truths is really a lie.
Welcome, Beverley. First, share a little of your background with us, and then we’ll ask a few questions.
Abuse investigation has been a part of my adult life. My career in public health nursing brought me into daily contact with challenging families and gave me an up-close view into the lives of families from all social levels and occupations; including drug dealers, hookers and abusers.
This look into different and varied aspects of life provided me with a wealth of knowledge to draw on to enhance my writing skills, as I developed situations with realistic characters facing emotional and life-threatening challenges.
I confess that for many years, when I was younger, I spent a lot of time dreaming up locked room plots and conversations between fictional characters. After years of writing down scraps of plots and promising to write the whole story one day, I finally decided it was time I succumbed to my long time desire to write. A challenge with breast cancer gave me the push to purchase my very first computer. Struggling with computer illiteracy, I finally put my fingers to the keyboard and wrote my first novel, creating the characters I’d been talking to for years.
Now for a few questions:
You won the lottery! But there’s a catch. You can only keep half and must give the rest a charity. Which one will you choose? How do you spend your half?
Without knowing the amount of the lottery – I’d give half to the Critter Care http://www.crittercarewildlife.org
It’s a small Canadian charity that cares for wild animals injured or abandoned in the wild. Last year they cared for 12 bear cubs whose mother’s had been killed.
And I’d take the rest of the money and buy a newer RV. Depending how much money I had would depend on how expensive and how many toys it would have.
You’re having a Halloween party. What costume did you choose? Why?
I’d pick a flapper costume. I loved the look of the flapper dress, especially the long cigarette holders. (And I don’t even smoke.) It looked like a fun era. (Omitting the Capone shootings.)
If you could be one of the heroine’s from any of the books you’ve reviewed, who would you be? Why?
I’d be Ophelia Beliveau, from Barbara Monajem’s, ‘Sunrise in a Garden of Love and Evil’. She’s a vampire, but passes for normal in today’s world. It would be fun.
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
Yes, my grandmother’s wedding band.
What was your favorite TV when you were a kid?
Mr. Rogers, I liked the whole idea of being part of the neighborhood.
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
His eyes – they say the eyes are the windows to the soul. I like warm, friendly eyes. Of course, secondly I would pick a great, muscular butt.
What turns you off faster than being wet down by a fire hose?
Obnoxious, opinionated, self-centered people – and drool.
If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be?
Would never happen, I come from solid, Swedish, peasant stock. Not gorgeous Miss America and I don’t have any talents.
What is one of the things you would put on your “bucket” list?
I want to walk the Great Wall of China.
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals?
Sandals
Football or baseball?
Definitely Football.
Color of fingernail polish?
Red
Morning person or nite-owl?
Nite-owl
Now…tell me two truths and one lie about yourself. (For a chance to receive a free ebook, do not forget to guess the lie and leave your answer and email address in the comment section.)
1. I’ve been to the Amazon and stayed in a treehouse with a pool and TV.
2. I’ve run a half marathon.
3. I’ve been scuba diving in Hawaii.
Blurb:
Staying alive wasn’t Maggie McGonagall’s first concern. Her first concern was to convince the man she hadn’t planned on ever seeing again, to accept and protect, a son he didn’t know about. And she had to do it quickly before the hit men found her and her son. They’d already attempted to kill her three times. She was running out of time. Once Matt was safe, hopefully she’d figure out how to keep herself from getting killed.
Cody Hawkins came running when the woman he wanted to forget called him for help. He’d never quit loving her, but could he help her, and walk away?
When he found out the trouble she was in and that someone was trying to kill her, he kidnapped her and her son and took them back to Duster, Montana where he felt he and his family could protect her, better than Witness Protection could. But could he keep her alive and convince her he still loved her?
Purchase links:
Sony – https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/beverley-bateman/hunted/_/R-400000000000001101127
Kobo – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/hunted-29
Social links:
BLOG – http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
Website – www.beverleybateman.com
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/AuthorBeverleyBateman?ref=hl
Twitter @kelownawriter
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/okwriter
November 18, 2013
Behin the Curtain with Kathryn Jane
Good morning all! Today’s guest the the delightful Kathryn Jane. You’ll love peeking behind this curtain. Aside from being a great author, she has a quick wit and warm personality. I asked her for two truths and one lie about herself! See if you can guess the correct answer. Leave you answer and email address in a comment! We’ll have two lucky winners as Kathryn is giving away two ebooks, your choice of either Touch Me or Do Not Tell Me NO. You will love her answers. 
Award winning author, Kathryn Jane is known for rising to a challenge, whether it’s training for a pilot’s license, facing down cancer, training cantankerous horses or writing that first novel.
Her personal tales of adventure include momentarily misplacing a thoroughbred filly inside a 747 at thirty thousand feet, planning the evacuation of over fifty horses in the path of an approaching wildfire, and being volunteered to represent her peers in a public speaking venue.
In the novels she writes, Kathryn keeps her heroines busy surviving life threatening adventures, or soul searching personal journeys, while they are doggedly determined to not fall in love with men they really don’t need. Think modern-day white knights, and reluctant, self-sufficient damsels.
In spite of ridiculous odds, every story has a happy ending, with both halves of a couple coming to terms with love and all its complications.
Kathryn lives in a cozy cottage in the Pacific Northwest with a pair of tuxedo cats, and a faithful dog to keep the man of her dreams company as she writes page turning, steamy tales of love, mystery, and adventure.
You won the lottery! But there’s a catch. You can only keep half and must give the rest a charity. Which one will you choose? How do you spend your half?
Oh H E double hockey sticks, I have to choose just one? I support lots of animal rescues, plus PTSD dogs, cancer groups, and more so I’d have to put the names in a hat and draw a winner.
You’re having a Halloween party. What costume did you choose? Why?
Really? Me having any kind of party? Not likely. Just a second couple fills this cottage to the rafters!
If you could be one of the heroine’s from any of the books you’ve reviewed, who would you be? Why?
I’m going to change the word reviewed to read. I would love to be Eve Dallas because she is totally kick-ass, plus, hello, Roarke? (Yes, I’ve read the entire series more than a few times
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
Lots, including a swizzle stick and a horse’s tooth.
What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
My Friend Flicka. Ouch, that dated me
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
Oh dear, now this is a problem. Is he facing me or do I get the butt view? Nuf said snickering… If he’s looking at me and has his clothes on, it’s his mouth.
What turns you off faster than being wet down by a fire hose?
A man who can ignore an animal in need.
If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be?
Snort. Talent? Really? Um, could I do a reading of Meg Cabot’s 911 story? I love reading that to people.
What is one of the things you would put on your “bucket” list?
A week long writer’s retreat overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals?
Barefoot
Football or baseball?
Horseracing
Color of fingernail polish?
None on the fingers, Turquoise on the toes
Morning person or nite-owl?
Morning
Now…tell me two truths and one lie about yourself.
I misplaced a horse inside a jumbo jet.
I have a twin engine certification.
I dispatched the fire department to a plane crash.
Blurb:
TOUCH ME
Telepathic abilities are a bitch and a blessing.
Shattered by the murder of her father, Grace Taylor has lost her passion for life, and swears she’ll never dance again. But a telepathic connection with a stranger sparks feelings, fears, and memories she can’t escape.
From the first moment Agent Logan hears Grace’s “touch me” in his head, he knows he can’t walk away from her cry for help. But reaching the intriguing woman who’s buried her feelings and abilities beneath an impenetrable armor requires all his gifts, and then some.
Will unveiling the secrets buried in Grace’s mind allow her to live again, find love, and dance? Or will a forgotten promise cost her everything?
THE INTREPID WOMEN SERIES
Stubborn, self-sufficient women… and the men who dare to love them.
Excerpt:
She stopped, eyes wide, searching, took a couple more steps then leaned down to jerk off her shoes. The slit up the side of her skirt gaped open. He tore his attention away from the long smooth leg in time to catch a glimpse of luscious breast pressing against the top of the silky dress. She straightened, reached up to push the sun streaked mass of hair back from her face, and he stepped in front of her, badge in hand.
“Police, ma’am.”
He barely saw the flash of panic in her golden eyes before she spun and ran for her life.
“Shit.” Caught flat-footed, he dug deep to catch up.
“What?” Carter’s voice came through the ear-piece. “What’s going on?”
“Rabbit,” he growled as he stretched to grab her by the shoulder.
“NO!” she screamed, twisting around with every ounce of flight morphing into fight and driving her knee deep into his groin.
“Ugh.” It was a grunt, followed by a groan and other unintelligible guttural sounds, pieces of words. Hot seething pain shot up through him, sucked the breath from his lungs. Her arm swung and he took the full force of shoes—with matching evening bag—across his left ear.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F0OA7WW
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A3M6G62
www.facebook.com/authorkathrynjane
November 12, 2013
Home for the Holiday Hop
Welcome to the Home for the Holiday Hop.
November 13th – November 18th
Grand Prize Shopping Spree: $450+ Gift Card or Paypal Cash
Second Place Grand Prize: (1) E-Book from every participating Author
76 Authors and 11 blog hosts have joined forces to make this Holiday Hop fun for our readers!
Be sure you use the link or click on the graphic! Be sure to visit the other
sites participating, comment and you’ve added one more chance to win! http://www.theromancetroupe.com/p/home-for-holidays-blog-hop.html Good luck. I hope you win a prize!
Aside from the Holiday Hop, sign up for my newsletter today and tomorrow, I’ll award two winners their choice of one my books. You pick which one you want!
Here’s how the DRAWING will work! Please read and adhere to the rules.
Each stop will be assigned a number and random.org will be used to choose the blog for where the grand prize will be drawn from. Then each commenter on this blog will be assigned a number and random.org will be used to draw the winning commenter. Only comments with email addresses included with the comment will be considered valid. The process will be repeated to choose the Book Grab Bag winner.
But first I want to share an old family recipe with you. My husband’s grandmother made this cake for the family right up to age ninety-four. I make it for every holiday and usually get requests for one on birthdays. I have to warn you, this is not a pretty cake. But fix it once, and it will move to the top of your favorite list!
Nannie Alexander’s Cream Cake
Ingredients:
1 boxed yellow cake mix (you can do homemade if you wish)
2 cups of sugar
1 cup (small carton) whipping or heavy cream
2 teaspoons vanilla
Easy enough, right?
Directions:
Cook and set cake aside to cool.
Add sugar and cream to saucepan, set burner to medium and stir constantly. The sugar must fully dissolve or icing will be grainy. The good news is, nobody will care if there’s a grain or two of sugar in the icing. I remove the spoon often and run my finger across the back. It’s easy to tell when the mixture has fully combined. Remove from burner and stir in the vanilla.
Now for the fun part. Poke holes in the bottom layer and spoon half the liquid on the cake, allowing the liquid to soak into the cake. Add the second layer and repeat the process.
This cake is so rich no one will care that it’s not pretty!
Now we pause for a commercial break…remember, today only, ONE person who comments and leaves their email address will receive a copy from my back list. Your choice which one.
The overall contest runs through November 18th. Visit the other participating authors sites and follow the rules. You can find the list here: http://www.theromancetroupe.com/p/home-for-holidays-blog-hop.html
Blurb
Ex-Army Ranger Tyrell Castillo’s first mission for Lost and Found, Inc. goes awry when his contact is kidnapped, and he’s left scrambling for weapons and explosives. He’ll have to blow up a drug cartel’s compound, rescue the woman, and keep her safe while they cross the sweltering hot Colombian jungle.
Driven by the need for revenge, Ana Maria Vega Cisneros doesn’t want to be rescued. She wants revenge. She’ll risk her life to ensure the drug lord who killed her family suffers the same fate.
The cartel leaves a trail of blood on their hunt for Ty and Ana. When Ty receives the order to kill the drug lord with extreme prejudice, he and Ana will face the enemy head on. Can Ty protect the woman who’s hell bent on vengeance? The woman he’s grown to love?
Excerpt
Ana Cisneros stood close to the window. Craning her neck to see outside, she was unaware he’d entered the room. With no time for introduction, he reached around and clamped his hand over her mouth.
As expected, he’d startled her. She fought, slinging her body back and forth like a wet dog. She kicked at him, so he whirled her around and jerked her body snug against his.
“Quit struggling. I’m here to help you,” he whispered, trying to sound reassuring. No doubt, with the flames outside casting an eerie glow, he looked like an alien. A man wearing night-vision goggles, geared up with a pistol on his hip and another in a holster strapped to his thigh, and a rifle over his shoulder would scare most anybody. Not to mention the machete sheathed on his back and the SOG knife in his hand. “Do you understand?”
He took the slight movement of her head as a yes and relaxed the pressure off her lips. His reward? She bit his finger and pummeled his ribs with her free fist.
What the hell? The lamb had attacked the lion. He reapplied the pressure while keeping one eye on the door.
“Stop that,” he commanded, impressed at her bravado.
Even through the lens on the night-vision goggles, he spotted a bruise on her cheek. Heat sizzled up his spine at the bastard who’d hit her.
He’d expected fear or panic to be oozing from her every pore, but didn’t sense either emotion from her. Waves of anger rolled off her.
“Do you understand?” he repeated. She nodded slightly, relaxed her tense muscles, and then tried to kick him in the nuts.
He didn’t have time to reason with her. And from what he’d seen so far, sweet-talking her was out. “I’m going to remove my hand. If you fight me, I’ll tie and gag you. Got it?”
This time he got a full nod. The expression behind her eyes made him doubt her honesty.
“I don’t have time to argue, so you’ll have to trust that I’m the contact you were supposed to meet in Bogota.” Cautiously, he lifted two fingers from her lips and waited to see if she complied.
“I know who you are,” she hissed. “And you’ve ruined everything.”
“Me? I think you’ve cornered the market on screw-ups.” He quickly assessed her condition. Other than the bruise, she appeared to be unharmed. Long dark hair fell around her shoulders. She wore jeans and a T-shirt. All she needed was shoes, preferably a good pair of boots.
Damn, she was a little thing. Beautiful, bruised, and pissed. Protecting her as they crossed the sweltering jungle wasn’t going to be easy. This woman was going to make the next few days a living hell.
Social media links:
http://www.twitter.com/jerriealexander
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jerrie-Alexander /121521571355959?ref=hl
http://www.goodreads.com/jerriealexander
http://pinterest.com/jerriealexander/
November 11, 2013
Behind the Curtain with J. Kathleen Cheney
Please help me welcome fellow North Texas RWA member, J. Kathleen Cheney to the blog. I think you’ll find her charming and you’ll enjoy getting to know her. Be sure to try and figure out which one of her three statements is the truth. If more than one person guesses correctly, I’ll use Random.org to select the winner!
BIO:
J. Kathleen Cheney is a former teacher and has taught mathematics ranging from 7th grade to Calculus, with a brief stint as a Gifted and Talented Specialist. Her short fiction has been published in Jim Baen’s Universe, Writers of the Future, and Fantasy Magazine, among others, and her novella “Iron Shoes” was a 2010 Nebula Award Finalist. Her novel, “The Golden City” will come out from Penguin, November 5, 2013.
Her website can be found at www.jkathleencheney.com
If you could be one of the heroine’s from any of the books you’ve reviewed, who would you be? Why?
One of my all-time favorites is “A Cousinly Connexion” by Sheila Simonson. The heroine, Jane Ash, isn’t spectacularly beautiful and is often flustered by clever banter. But she’s dutiful and takes on far too much responsibility. I can relate to her. And, happily enough, she ends up with the sharp-tongued gentleman in the end…
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
Whether or not he’s graceful. I often don’t recall things like hair or eye color…but I’m likely to be able to recall how they walked.
What turns you off faster than being wet down by a fire hose?
A man who’s very conscious of how good looking he is. My experience teaching high school cemented this. Some young men skated by on their looks, while others–sometimes equally blessed by nature–didn’t. I found the self-admiration of the former a very unattractive trait, whereas I suspect the latter students will grow up to be the sort of men we write books about.
If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be?
Hah! My singing voice isn’t notable enough to win, so I would go with something unusual. I think I’d twirl rifle (I did this in college, and still possess one of my rifles). As long as I didn’t take out any of the overhead lights, I’d be fine.
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
I have one bracelet that’s made from Portuguese coins (2.5 escudo coins) that I wore almost every day while my agent was pitching my Portuguese books. It became a good luck charm. I usually wear a piece of jewelry from Portugal (of which I have a lot) every day.
What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
Mission Impossible. I loved watching how each member of the team did their part to achieve their team’s goal. It’s strange to go back and watch that series now since the advent of cell phones would ruin some of their plots, but most of them still work.
What is one of the things you would put on your “bucket” list?
I don’t have a bucket list, but I should start one! One of the things I would put on it is climbing Guadalupe Peak. I know that doesn’t sound impressive; Guadalupe Peak isn’t very high. But it’s one of those things that I -can- do, and yet I’ve never gotten around to it. And I love the Guadalupe National Wilderness, yet have never made time to go hiking there.
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals?
Tennis Shoes…never know when you have to run.
Football or baseball?
Football, without a doubt.
Color of fingernail polish?
Clear.
Morning person or nite-owl?
Morning.
_____________________________________
Now…tell me two truths and one lie about yourself.
My parents were both physicists.
I started college at fifteen and graduated at nineteen.
My husband and I met in college, but didn’t date until thirteen years later.
Okay everyone. See if you can guess which one of Kathleen’s statements is not true. Stop back by in the morning when we peek behind the curtain and learn the answer and the winner.
Now let’s take a look at Kathleen’s exciting book and read the excerpt. This is one you’re going to want to read!
Snippet:
Humming with the sound of moving water, the pipes on the second floor told Duilio his mother’s new companion had drawn a bath, which served his purposes well. He had questions that needed answering, and catching her in her bath would give him the leverage he needed. She wouldn’t be able to deny who she was.
It might be improper, but it was expedient. He could apologize later.
But he had to smooth his butler’s injured consequence first. “This has nothing to do with you, Cardenas. I merely suspect she would prefer to hold both copies.”
Cardenas wasn’t happy about surrendering one of his precious keys. “And if I should need to get in there, to inspect the maids’ work, sir?”
“It’s only for a short time, Cardenas,” Duilio said soothingly. “I’ll give it two weeks. If she’s comfortable with the arrangement by then, I’ll ask her to return the key to you.”
“As you wish, Mr. Ferreira.” Cardenas frowned as he worked the brass key off his ring.
Duilio couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t the loss of a key that bothered the man, but the implied loss of control. Cardenas didn’t want to give up the ability to check on the other servants in the household, particularly not after the incident with the footman who’d robbed them. Fortunately, the butler wasn’t the sort to abuse his power. Duilio slipped the key inside his coat pocket where it clinked against the master copy he already held. “Thank you, Cardenas.”
The perturbed butler took his leave and headed down the stairs to the first floor.
Duilio chewed on his lower lip. Am I actually going to do this? He took a deep breath and knocked on the bedroom door. When he got no response, he listened carefully and then let himself in.
It was Alessio’s old room–too masculine for a lady’s companion, perhaps, but there hadn’t been time to make changes. It had a private bath, as did none of the other empty rooms; if he was right about her, she would appreciate that.
Duilio strode across the rug and pressed one ear against the door to the bathing room, but didn’t hear any movement within. He unlocked the bathroom door, and once inside, gazed down into the oversized porcelain tub.
Miss Paredes lay under the surface of the water, her eyes closed. The jangling of the keys must have been muffled by the liquid, because she apparently hadn’t heard him enter.
Duilio stared down at her, mesmerized. A flush of heat surged through is body. She was…stunning.
He’d admired her figure before, but unclothed she was as spectacular as he’d imagined. Her breasts with their mauve-tipped nipples were rounded but not overlarge. Her waist didn’t owe its trimness to corsetry, and her hips flared down to nicely curved thighs. His hands practically itched to touch her. He’d never been attracted to small delicate females. Oriana Paredes was the sort of woman he preferred, tall and strong and able to keep up with him in…
Oh, Good Lord! What was he thinking? She was employed in his household. He turned partially away from her, mentally clamping down on his desire.
He was grateful she seemed unaware of his presence, that she hadn’t opened her eyes to catch him gaping at her like a schoolboy in a whorehouse. He must be flushed all the way to his hairline. He peeked at her again out of the corner of one eye, firmly reminding himself he was purportedly a gentleman.
Her hair spread about her head, the reddish tinge transmuted to a burgundy glow. Her skin looked different in the water as well, the paleness of her face become an opal-like iridescence. Below her breasts, her skin changed to a shimmering silver, a perfect imitation of scales running all the way down to her toes, the reason sailors claimed sereia had fish tails.
Her hands moved slowly through the water, no longer obscured by an old woman’s mitts. Translucent webbing showed between her fingers, pearly skin stretching between them up to the last knuckle, so thin he might be able to see through it in the light.
The expression on her face reminded him of paintings of the saints enraptured in the presence of God. She was singing to herself, the notes muted by the water. On each side of her neck, pink-edged gills vibrated with the sound.
But that song could entrap him if she raised her head above the surface. It was said men would throw themselves into the sea on hearing it. And while he wouldn’t mind staring at that silver-gilded body for the rest of the afternoon, the last thing he needed was to be enslaved to her, so he discreetly tapped on the side of the tub with one booted foot.
Still underwater, her dark eyes opened wide.
Miss Paredes sat up in a rush, setting the water sloshing about. She scooted back against the side of the tub and pressed her hands over her neck to hide her gills. That forced her breasts together, unfortunately obscuring his view of them at the same time. “I locked the door,” she said, her shaky voice betraying alarm. “How did you get in here?”
Duilio spotted a towel on the table near the vanity stand and retrieved it. He was not going to blush. “I have the keys, of course.”
Selkies rarely showed any discomfiture over nudity. That French book he’d once read suggested the sereia shared that view, if he recalled correctly. Her choice of covering her gills–rather than anything else–reinforced the notion. Even so, it would be ungentlemanly to stare at her bared body, no matter how lovely. He held out the towel, resolutely reminding himself to keep his eyes on her face.
“What are you doing in here?” She rose from the water, giving him a glimpse of golden stippling along the outside of her thighs. He couldn’t see her dorsal stripe from that angle, supposedly one of a sereia’s best features. She snatched the towel from his hand and wrapped it about her body, keeping her back turned away from him the whole time. Then she fixed him with a hard gaze, raising her brows to prompt an answer to her question.
Duilio leaned back against the vanity stand and crossed one ankle over the other, trying to present a nonchalant façade. “I suspected you were a sereia,” he said in a mild tone. “I needed to be sure.”
“You could have asked,” she said with asperity.
Her teeth barely showed when she spoke. Even though they looked like a human’s teeth, he’d heard they were razor sharp. He had the feeling she was considering biting him, so he kept his distance. “You would have lied.”
She twisted her dripping hair into a knot with one webbed hand. The movement gave him a better view of a yellowish discoloration encircling her forearms and wrists, faded bruises that might have come from being bound. “It is unacceptable to take advantage of someone in your employ, sir,” she said primly.
He felt his cheeks burn again, but tried to ignore it. “I haven’t taken advantage of you,” he said, “nor do I have any intention of doing so. But we need to talk, and we can speak privately here without being interrupted.”
“And I expected that I could bathe privately here, sir,” she snapped. “Without being interrupted.”
November 8, 2013
Friday Special with Nonnie Jules
DAYDREAM’S DAUGHTER, NIGHTMARE’S FRIEND Book Intro!
Blurb: “She was one horrible mess. Always looking over her shoulder, avoiding becoming too friendly with the neighbors, never letting her kids out of her sight for fear of human monsters lurking around corners, waiting to cause them harm. That anxiety stemmed from her own childhood memories. Always fearing that someone would recognize her face, she kept to herself and didn’t go out much. And when she did, no matter the season, she wore some kind of hat or covering on her head, enough to shield her face. HE had done this to her even though he was dead now. Walter never understood why she was such a loner, avoiding people as much as she could, and just being extremely anti-social outside of the house. Houston was originally her home, not his, yet she didn’t even want her own family and friends to know that she had returned. The only person she found herself able to really open up with was him. And although she tried to make him feel otherwise, he knew that there was still a huge wall up that even he would never be able to see over or climb. Marisa had a secret and if it was ever discovered, it could cost her her life and her freedom.”
Review: “I couldn’t put this book down! Every chapter that I read kept me on the edge of my seat, excited about what was to come in the next chapter. I want more…so hope there’s a sequel!
Lifetime Television…watch out for DAYDREAM’S DAUGHTER, NIGHTMARE’S FRIEND. You’re going to want to turn this script into a movie!”- P.J. Soemer,
Book Lover Trailer: http://youtu.be/qbUK3XQ5-dA
BUY LINKS: Nonnie’s Book Store Also on Amazon
November 4, 2013
Behind The Curtain with Karalee Long
Good morning! Karalee Long joins us today. As usual we’ll peek behind the curtain of this author and ask her some fun questions, get to know her a little better, and then you’ll want to see her book cover and read the excerpt!
Be sure and try to guess which of the three items below is the lie. Leave your comment and email address! Tomorrow morning I will use Random.org and post the winner of one copy Karalee’s book!
You won the lottery! But there’s a catch. You can only keep half and must give the rest a charity. Which one will you choose? How do you spend your half?
Only one charity? That’s tough because there are so many worthy causes, but I will go with Red Cloud Indian School on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Oh, I can spend the rest any way I want? I’d set aside some money for travel, pay off our mortgage, start a college fund for our grandson, and use some of it for more charities.
You’re having a Halloween party. What costume did you choose? Why?
A vampire if I could just eat rare steak instead of drinking human blood. I’d love to have vampire speed, vision, and hearing, and, of course, I’d like having the power to do in the bad guys.
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
My first date with my the man who became my husband occurred on my birthday. He was a poor college student working his way through school, but he gave me this little gift wrapped package. It contained a sterling silver chain with a small sterling silver pendant surrounding an alexandrite. My birth stones were alexandrite and amethyst. I was stunned. We were married 14 months later. That was a lot of years ago, and I still have that lovely pendant.
What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
This is going to date me, but it was Captain Video and his Video Rangers. That had to have been the cheapest TV show ever, but I was enthralled with space and space travel.
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
Oh, gosh, our first impressions occur so quickly, it’s hard for me to say the first thing, but whether or not he’s considerate of others and his eyes.
What turns you off faster than being wet down by a fire hose?
Someone who tells everyone what they should do.
If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be?
I always wanted to be an actress singing and dancing. I love plays and movies. I wish I could’ve taken signing and acting lessons. Dancing is out. I don’t have a good sense of rhythm.
What is one of the things you would put on your “bucket” list?
I always wanted to drive to Alaska, ride the mules to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and go deep-sea fishing. I’ve only been able to do one of these.
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals?
Actually running shoes.
Football or baseball?
Please spare me.
Color of fingernail polish?
Clear except Halloween when it will be black.
Morning person or nite-owl?
Morning if I get a good night’s sleep.
Now…tell me two truths and one lie about yourself.
I terrified my husband the first time I baked him a pie.
I don’t bake pies anymore.
I gave a particularly large mountain goat with very pointy horns my cream cheese and bagel.
Okay, folks which one is the lie?
Allie Blair, a divorced marriage counselor accused of murdering her ex-husband, tried to prove her innocence but unwittingly accepts the help of the man who wants to prove her guild.
Greg Weston, a Denver homicide detective, vows to bring his cousin’s accused murderer, Alle Blair, to justice. To win her trust, he signs up for a class she’s teaching, “What Women Want.”
When Allie becomes a target of the actual killer, her sizzling chemistry with Greg ignites passion to hot to ignore. But Greg knows even if they survive, he’ll lost Allie when she learns he’s a cop.
Excerpt:
Prologue
Ian Feldman had confessed his desire to Allie Blair over coffee an hour ago, but nothing had changed. He sucked in his gut and tugged harder on the zipper. He’d put on a couple of pounds, but slowly the fabric came together encasing him, transforming him.
He puffed out his chest, admiring his reflection in the full- length mirror. Satisfied, he glanced at his watch, ten-thirty. At least a half hour before Laura would be home. Maybe it was time to tell her. Would she still love him? Would revealing his secret eliminate the rush he got from doing this and he’d be normal?
A noise downstairs made him flinch. Oh, my god, Laura was home early. He grabbed the zipper tab then stopped. He’d told Allie how this made him feel, and she wasn’t repulsed.
“Courage,” he said to his reflection and went downstairs to tell his sweet wife.
But it wasn’t Laura.
Chapter One
At seven forty-five Friday morning Allie Blair turned her six-dollar purse upside down, dumping the contents on the sun heated asphalt at the back door of Jake’s Grocery.
“Where’s the damn key?”
Crap, she didn’t have it. Looking back the way she’d come across the field separating her uncle’s house from his store, she pulled the cell phone he’d loaned her from her jeans pocket. She hoped he’d be the one to answer, but naturally, Hazel answered, clearly perturbed at having to do so. The woman was nothing like Aunt Christine had been, but Allie didn’t blame Uncle Jake for remarrying.
“I forgot the key,” Allie said, hoping she hadn’t lost it. She hadn’t lost anything in a week and thought that was a sign she was getting her life back together, but signs, like husbands, could be deceptive.
“Could I borrow yours? I’ll run back and get it.”
“You’re late enough as it is. I’ll have to bring it to you.”
A loud click in Allie’s ear punctuated Hazel’s attitude. If the store didn’t open at eight, Hazel would rail at Uncle Jake again to kick Allie out of their house. Not that he’d ever do it, but she hated causing him more trouble.
With perspiration trickling between her breasts and head pounding from the Colorado July heat, she put everything back in her purse and almost cut her finger on a piece of glass. Noticing more pieces, she looked up at the light above the back door. Broken. She scraped the glass to the side with her foot and heard Hazel coming down the worn path through the field. The woman had four inches and fifty pounds on Allie’s five foot six inch a hundred and twenty pounds. At least her husband — ex-husband — had relieved her of ten pounds along with nearly everything else. For all the good it had done him.
She rubbed her temples, trying to vanquish the headache along with the bitterness. How many times had she told her therapy clients that bitterness only harms the person who harbors it? Besides, even though her ex had destroyed her financially, she would’ve never wished him dead. But someone had.
Hazel’s arrival dispersed the images of her ex. Unlocking the back door, the woman pushed ahead of her into the stockroom and did a left-handed uppercut to the light switch.
The air conditioning chilled the perspiration on Allie’s skin, making her shiver, and the dust and stale odor made her sneeze. Hazel pointed to some blue goop spilled on the cement floor outside the office.
“That mess wasn’t there when I closed up last night,” she snapped. “Did you come back after that class of yours?”
“No. Maybe some kind of vibration caused a bottle to fall and break.”
Like Hazel slamming the back door as she locked up last night, venting her anger over Uncle Jake taking the class Allie taught on Thursday nights. “What Women Want.” But it was abundantly clear all Hazel wanted was Allie out of their lives.
“Well, clean it up. I’ll take the cash drawers up front and unlock the doors before those snobby old women break in.”
They’re about your age, Allie thought. Well, except for Thelma Hurst. She was seventy-five but young at heart. And none of them were snobs. Hazel was just pissed because they hadn’t invited her to join their Just For The Hell Of It Club after marrying Uncle Jake a year ago.
Allie put her purse in Uncle Jake’s office where memories of Aunt Christine dying of cancer sent her to the restroom that also served as the custodial supply closet. Cleaning was good therapy for blotting out bad memories. Of course, some would never go away.
She discarded the ruptured, plastic container of liquid Tide. It had toppled off a pallet of detergent waiting to be shelved, and someone had tracked through it. On her hands and knees, she scrubbed the sticky blue goop smelling like clothes being laundered.
The cement floor was old and pocked. Not only was the affected area now lighter than the rest of the floor, the accumulated dirt and dried goop in the gouges left a polka dot pattern. And she smelled like Tide.
Finishing, she washed her hands, aimed an exhaled breath upward to lift her bangs off her throbbing, sweaty forehead, and glanced at her watch. Twelve minutes after eight.
Hazel would’ve let the early bird sales shoppers in by now along with the other cashier. That allowed Allie a few minutes. She liked to check the produce area before Thelma Hurst met her seventy-nine-year-old admirer, Earl Evans, for their fruit and vegetable tete-a-tete. Bruised bananas, shriveled peppers, and spongy tomatoes didn’t make for a romantic tryst locale. Leaving the stockroom, she nearly ran into Elise Sawyer, Thelma’s daughter.“Oh, sorry.”
“Have you seen my mother?” Elise asked.
Allie felt like K-Mart bumping into Nordstrom. Elise always dressed well, but a gray silk suit and matching pumps to shop for groceries?
“Uh, no, but she might be in the dairy section. Excuse me.”
Allie hurried in the opposite direction, knowing Thelma would be headed for the produce and Earl. True romance was hard to come by at any age, and if a little misdirection could help, she was all for it. As far as she knew, Elise didn’t know her mother and Earl were sweet on each other, and apparently, the couple was content to keep it that way.
Heading for the produce, she saw Greg Weston reaching for a box of Wheaties in aisle six, his muscled arms and chest threatening to burst his blue T-shirt. She hurried past. It was bad enough he was taking her class, his handsome face smiling at her even though she’d turned down his offer of dinner. He had to shop here.
After aisle twelve, she wended her way through the islands of produce and snatched a moldy peach and two bruised plums from the table on her left. Checking the grapes as she rounded another table, she slipped and nearly fell. Congratulating herself on not dropping the peach and plums, she looked down to see what she’d stepped on.
A tomato. Another one sat on the floor a few feet away, its dried leaked contents promising more cleaning opportunities. Skipping the oranges, she hurried around the corner. Smashed tomatoes all over the floor.
And among them sat Ian Feldman, president of High View’s Chamber of Commerce, his head and shoulders leaning against the tomato table. His eyes were closed, and they’d never see anything again.
She screamed and dropped the peach and plums.
She heard people coming, but everything moved in slow motion. Except her. She couldn’t move at all.
“My God, that’s Ian.”
Allie recognized Earl’s voice.
“Good heavens, he’s dead.”
That was Thelma’s voice.
“He’s wearing my red dress!”
Oh, no, that was Laura Feldman. She shouldn’t have to see her husband like this. Allie started to move to block Laura’s view, but that didn’t work out too well.
“I’ve got you,” a deep voice said behind her.
She found herself in the arms of the man she’d been trying to avoid. Greg Weston’s dark eyes jerked her back to reality.
“Let go of me.”
“You were about to faint.”
“I don’t faint.” She’d never fainted in her life. Not even when her husband – her dead ex-husband – had demanded a divorce.
Greg didn’t let go of her. Just as she started to protest, Hazel pushed through the small crowd.
“Allison, what did you do? Aaaghhh.”
“Go to the front of the store, all of you,” Greg ordered. “Call 9-1-1 and wait for the police there. And don’t let anyone else in.”
Allie twisted free of Greg, lost her balance, and found herself back in his arms.
“My poor Ian,” Laura gasped. “Ohhh …”
Greg let go of her to catch Laura. Standing unsupported, Allie looked at Ian again. And saw the bullet hole in the red, satin evening gown where a woman’s left breast should be.
All she could think was, oh, God, not again.
This was the second dead man she’d discovered in the last three weeks.
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October 30, 2013
Writer’s Wednesday with Andrea Downing
Welcome to my blog. Forgive my being late. We’re finally getting some needed rain, but it plays havoc with my internet. Please welcome Andi Downing! Let’s jump right in and get to know her better.
Andrea Downing likes to say that when she decided to do a Masters Degree, she made the mistake of turning left out of New York instead of right to the west, and ended up in the UK. She eventually married there, raising a beautiful daughter and staying for longer than she cares to admit. Teaching, editing a poetry magazine, writing travel articles, and a short stint in Nigeria filled those years until in 2008 she returned to NYC. She now divides her time between the city and the shore and often trades the canyons of New York for the wide open spaces of Wyoming. Loveland, her first book, was a finalist for Best American Historical at the 2013 RONE Awards. Lawless Love, a short story, came out Sept. 4th as part of The Wild Rose Press ‘Lawmen and Outlaws’ series. Three more books are in various stages of progress!
Thanks so much for having me here, Jerrie. I’ve been looking forward to it.
Q. Do you do any special research for your novels?
A. Absolutely. I feel strongly that in order to write about a place, one must visit it, get a feel for the landscape, the people who inhabit it and the general atmosphere. This is as true for contemporary as for historical works. People’s speech patterns, for instance, are different throughout the country, never mind the expressions they use. So I always visit the area I’m writing about—unless, of course, it’s dangerous or otherwise not advisable. For historical novels I also do a lot of book research; reading memoirs is an excellent way to get back a hundred years or so.
Q. What made you pick your particular genre?
A I don’t think I picked it, I think it picked me! I write the stories that come into my head without regard for what genre they are. All, so far, have taken place, at least partially, out west. I do have an idea, however, for a civil war saga, so we’ll have to see if that includes any setting west of the Mississippi.
Q. What are you working on right now? Can you tell us about it?
A. Uhhhh….not really. It is so much in an infancy stage I’m not sure how I’m going to deal with it because it may—or may not!—contain flashbacks, and it may—or may not!—have two different points of view and tenses. I’ll see…
Q. Do you ever hit the wall or find you’ve written yourself into a corner? How do you turn that around?
A. It’s never happened to me, quite honestly, Jerrie, because I always know the beginning and the end of a story before I start. I think once you have the goal in mind, the road eventually becomes clear. At least that’s what I find.
Okay…enough with the business questions! How about some fun stuff. You know, just between the two of us.
Oh, yea!
Q. The opportunity to go on a surprise vacation arises. You have 90 minutes to pack and get to the airport. Where will you go and what will you pack?
A. I’m off to Australia and, if I’m really lucky, New Zealand because I’ve never been. I’m packing jeans, jeans, and more jeans and maybe one smart outfit for Sydney, but basically I’m headed to the Outback and stations (ranches) to try out their stock saddles and ride all day. Might head to the Great Barrier Reef so a bathing suit or two might be advisable. And of course can’t forget the camera…
Q. Are you more likely to be spotlighted on the TV show Hoarders or Fashion Police?
A. LOL Golly, neither I hope! I just cleared out my closet of 4 bags of stuff so I’m not a hoarder. As for the Fashion Police, I wear a lot of black so I’m fairly safe. I think!
Q. If they make a movie about your life, who do you want to play your part?
A. Well, for a long time I had my eye on Christy Turlington, even though she’s not an actor. If it has to be an actor I’ll settle for Katherine Heigl—comedy with intelligence, that’s me! At least that’s how I see her.
Q. Tell us one thing about you that might surprise us…it can be a secret…we won’t tell.
A. I’ve had regression therapy. Don’t ask…
Here’s a few quickies. What’s your favorite:
Sound? My daughter’s laughter…quickly followed by the whinny of a horse.
Romantic song? ‘Rainin’ You’ by Brad Paisley.
Day? Any day I’m out riding with my daughter (she currently lives abroad).
Smell? A stable!
I love your answers!! Thank you for joinng me today!
Thanks so much for having me here today, Jerrie. I’ll just mount up now and ride off into the sunset. Adios!
Blurb:
Lacey Everhart has carved out a tough existence in the wilds of 1880s Wyoming, working hard to build a secure life for herself and her younger brother, Luke. She will stop at nothing to protect what’s hers and keep them safe. Even if it means keeping a secret that could destroy their lives.
Marshal Dylan J. Kane is a man who considers everything as black and white, right or wrong. He’s never seen life any other way until he sets eyes on Lacey. Suddenly the straight and narrow that he’s followed has a few twists and turns. Loving Lacey offers the home life for which he hankers…but can he really love a woman who seems to be plain lawless?
Excerpt:
Lacey thought of fluttering her eyelashes, but it was such a silly thing to do. How could women act like that? She just looked up at the marshal and waited, the possibilities turning over in her mind, flitting through her head but never settling.
“You wanna tell me what really happened now so we can try to sort this matter? All I can do is promise I’ll do everything in my power to sort it for you, but I cain’t help you less’n you tell the truth. You tell me lies and make me look a dang fool, there’s nothin’ I can do. You understand that?”
Along with the tiniest nod, she clasped her hands together. She looked up at Dylan Kane and saw kindness in that face, a face she could so easily have loved had things been different. She could sense the heat radiating from his body and knew if she touched his chest, a strength would exist where his heart beat. If she ran her hand down his arms, she would find that same strength in his muscle. How she wanted those arms around her! All her life, it seemed, she had looked after herself, cared for her brother, struggled to make a home for the two of them. What would it have been like if Morgan had not…
“Lacey?” Dylan’s soft voice brought her back from her reveries. “You ready to tell the truth?” With one gentle finger, he lifted her chin so their gazes met for a moment before they each stepped back from the brink of something neither could control. “Lacey?” he repeated.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
LINKS AND CONTACTS
WEBSITE AND BLOG: http://andreadowning.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writerAndreaDowning
Twitter: @andidowning https://twitter.com/AndiDowning
Email: andidowning@gmail.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6446229.Andrea_Downing
Linkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?...
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Andrea-Downing/e/B008MQ0NXS/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
LOVELAND:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Loveland-ebook/dp/B008VEXSB0
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/loveland-andrea-downing/1112486451?ean=2940014874021
The Wild Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=991&zenid=8056610c65a9d0f13b6883882eb494a6
LAWLESS LOVE: (full release Sept. 4)
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lawless-Love-Lawmen-Outlaws-ebook/dp/B00D0TB0DO
The Wild Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=991&zenid=8056610c65a9d0f13b6883882eb494a6
October 28, 2013
Behind the Curtain with Karna Small Bodman
Welcome back to Behind the Curtain with Karna! Did you guess #3? Congratulations Barb Han! Karna will be in touch with you soon! Random.org was used to select the winners name out of the correct answers submitted.
Let’s look back at each statement. You’ll enjoy reading the rest of the story:
1. A dinner date with Andy Williams? TRUE. When he was driving – we were in a white Rolls Royce no less — in the LA area, he took a wrong turn and a police car made us pull over….the policeman was simply trying to “escort” us out of a bad area….but before he knew that, when Andy saw the red light flashing us over, he simply grinned and said, “If that cop pulls us over, I’ll just sing him ‘Moon River’.”
2. Scheduled to be in the car with Jim Brady the day of the assassination attempt? TRUE. If I had gone with Jim, when he walked out of the Hilton with Pres. Reagan, I would have been standing right next to him when John Hinkley fired those 6 shots. Instead, I stayed back at the White House at the last minute to handle a bunch of press calls, and ended up spending the day in the Situation Room. I have no idea why I was “spared” that day.
3. In a movie with Paul Newman? THE LIE. I actually did have bit parts in movies with Clint Eastwood, Steve McQueen, George C. Scott and Woody Allen, but I was never in a movie with Paul Newman - although I did interview him once when I was a reporter in SF. He had THE most amazing light blue eyes!.
The contest has ended, but please read on and learn more about this exciting author and CASTLE BRAVO!
I’m excited to introduce you to fellow Kiss of Death Chapter member, Karna Small Bodman, Author of 4 thrillers, the newest: Castle Bravo. New York Times Bestselling Author Steve Berry had this to say about Castle Bravo: “A labyrinth of intrigue, where danger and drama abide. It’s fresh and relevant and makes you clamor for more.”
Let’s get behind the curtain with Karna and ask some fun questions.
Describe yourself in 3 words: Optimistic, organized, political (Well, I do write political thrillers)
What is the most interesting thing you have in your purse? That would be my calendar where I try to keep track of board meetings, events and especially book tours. I’ve had over 300 speeches/interviews on various tours. It’s a bit crazy!
What is the one thing you’ve always wanted to do? Qualify to sing in a barbershop quartet in the International Competition. (I never made it above the Regional stage).
Who are some of your favorite authors? For romance: Lisa Kleypas; For historical: Philippa Gregory; For thrillers: Nelson DeMille and Vince Flynn (we shall miss him!)
What fashion trend do you just not get? Skinny jeans. I can’t imagine they’d be comfortable.
Which would you choose?
Coffee or Tea? Definitely coffee (I make my own “Cappuccino” using a battery operated frother with skim milk. It costs about $12 vs. a gigantic Cappuccino machine that’s close to a thousand, I think).
Summer or Winter: Summer always! We live in three parts of the country: Summer in Rancho Santa Fe, CA, Winter in Naples, FL, Spring and Fall in Washington, DC (have to get back there for an “Action Fix” and to do research for my thrillers. The weather is nice then as well).
Dog or cat? Love them both, although with all our travels now, I’m sorry to say I don’t have either one at the moment.
Tell us two truths and one lie about yourself:
I once had a dinner date with Andy Williams.
I was scheduled to be in the car with Press Secretary Jim Brady the day of the assassination attempt on President Reagan.
I was in a movie with Paul Newman
Everyone! Try and guess the lie. Be sure you leave your answer and email in the comment. Stop by tomorrow to see if you were correct! One correct poster will win a Kindle copy of Karna’s short story The Agent!
White House Director of Homeland Security, Samantha Reid, receives intelligence about a possible new threat to the country’s national security. While she and her staff are inundated with potential issues on a daily basis, this new one is staggering. What if a hostile country or group gets hold of a small nuclear device, and instead of aiming it at one of our cities, they intend to detonate it high in the atmosphere? The result would be the creation of an Electro-Magnetic Pulse or “EMP” sending shock waves that would “fry” all electronics on the ground in its line of sight. There would be no electricity grid, no internet, no communications, transportation, refrigeration, ATM’s. It would set us back to the year 1910. Could it happen here?
Note: If you visit her website: www.karnabodman.com there is a link where you can read the first five chapters of this story. And there are links to all her novels and a short story on the website as well.
The author served in The White House for six years. Her last post was Senior Director of the National Security Council, so she weaves many of her experiences and settings into this new political thriller. Visit her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/karna.bodman
October 21, 2013
Behind the Curtain with MJ Flournoy
Today’s guest MJ Flournoy is a fellow member of RWA and Kiss Of Death chapter. I’ve asked her a few non-writing related questions to give you some insight or a peek behind the curtain!
You won the lottery! But there’s a catch. You can only keep half and must give the rest a charity. Which one will you choose? How do you spend your half?
I’d give to the Lupus Research Foundation because my mother died from Lupus when I was 20 years old. She was only forty-seven at her death, much too young to die. Then I’d use the remainder for my family to plan and provide a real family vacation.
If you could be one of the heroine’s from any of the books you’ve reviewed, who would you be? Why?
This one is easy, Shanna from Kathleen Woodiwiss’s Shanna because I’m still in love with her hero! This was the novel that made me want to write.
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
The sentimental item in my jewelry box is my mother’s wedding rings. I don’t wear them, but they are there and remind me of her when I see them.
What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
My favorite TV show was Bonanza. I was in love with Little Joe and had an autographed picture of Michael Landon that was my most prized possession as a pre-teen.
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
The first thing I notice about a man is his eyes. I love a man with beautiful, soulful eyes. Couldn’t you just lose yourself in the blue depths of Paul Newman’s eyes?
What turns you off faster than being wet down by a fire hose?
Bad dental hygiene. I can’t get past that, major turn off. I don’t care how handsome or beautiful a person is, there is no getting past this issue.
What is one of the things you would put on your “bucket” list?
The number one thing on my bucket list is to visit England. I have visited several countries, but I have never been to England.
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals? Tennis shoes
Football or baseball? Do I have to choose? Go Braves! Yea Falcons
Color of fingernail polish? Mauve
Morning person or nite-owl? Definitely a nite-owl
Now…tell me two truths and one lie about yourself.
I love chocolate
I’m a teacher
I drive a sports car
Okay! Everyone…which of the three do you think is a lie? Be sure to guess, comment, and leave your email address for a chance to win a PDF of A Matter of Trust!
Blurb: A Matter of Trust by MJ Flournoy
Her paranormal abilities had always caused her grief. But can they save the life of a kidnapped child and the man she loves?
Jolie Wyngate is a middle school teacher with an extraordinary gift—or is it a curse? Throughout her life, she’s been never been sure. Now, when she is implicated in the kidnapping of a child, the ultimate value of her powers will be put to the test.
Mac Carlson, former Navy SEAL and security expert, is tasked with rescuing the kidnapped girl, Rachael Anne. From the moment he meets Jolie, his suspicious and protective nature sets its sights on her as a prime suspect. Can Jolie clear her name and gain this man’s hard-won trust?
More importantly, can she save the girl before time runs out? She won’t be able to do it without her psychic abilities—but Mac has a hard enough time trusting Jolie as it is, let alone trusting her powers to lead them to Rachael Anne.
As Mac and Jolie realize they have no choice but to work as a team—and as they slowly warm to each other in the process—they realize they have a new problem: the kidnapper has set his sights on Jolie. Now Jolie will need all of her abilities, and all of Mac’s strength and skill, to stay out of the kidnapper’s hands and bring Rachael Anne back home.
Excerpt: A Matter of Trust by MJ Flournoy
“Hell.” Mac Carlson hit speed dial for a second time, one white knuckled hand gripped the
steering wheel. Crap like this didn’t happen on his watch. Carlson Group, though new in
Atlanta, ranked number one in the security business.
He punched speed dial for the third time and swerved to miss a car that pulled out in front of
him. He swore at the driver and flipped him off. The idiot would have killed a less skilled
driver. Why didn’t they answer the damned phone?
The Knights’ alarm had activated and then fallen silent. Why? Mac had dropped Allen
Knight off earlier at a meeting downtown. Only Knight’s wife and daughter stayed home, along
with the family’s personal security, of course.
Could be a false alarm. Yeah, right. Like the newly installed multi-faceted security system
all malfunctioned at once, no chance. Besides, Mac trusted his instincts and alarm bells were
jangling through every cell of his being. His gut said this was real, and it wasn’t going to be
pretty.
”Answer the phone.”
Where the hell was security? If Allen had allowed him to handpick the on-premise security
team this wouldn’t be happening. Mac pounded his fist on the steering wheel. At his suggestion,
Allen Knight had switched to Longfield Technology for electronic security, but he’d held back
when Mac pushed to replace the security team, too.
The mini control module mounted on the dash remained blank. Longfield damned well better
have a good explanation for this snafu. Mac had recommended Longfield over Connard because
of Longfield’s superior technology and special skills.
Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, he used the other to whack the module. It
remained blank, dead like a tagged Iraqi sniper. He tried a fourth number on speed dial.
Nothing. The security team should have been changed. After this they would be, he’d see to
that.
The coal-black SUV sped down Peachtree Street, suppressed power throbbing beneath the
hood. Mac turned onto West Paces Ferry Road. He opened her up, speeding past the Governor’s
mansion, and continued west toward the Knight estate. High wrought-iron gates marked the
entry.
Gates that should have been closed stood open, allowing anyone entry.
Crap, this was bad, real bad.
He parked the SUV near the barn that housed Knight’s exotic car collection, pulled his Glock
from the side pocket of the door and slid from the seat. Mac knelt beside the vehicle. His
special forces training decreeing caution, he inched along the wall.
Crouching low, he crept toward the house. Body flattened against the barn wall he rounded
the corner, Glock held ready.
He found the first body on the lawn outside the house. The second lay sprawled in the garage,
just outside the kitchen door. The security team. Both had a single gunshot to the back of the
head. His fifth speed dial was to 911.
“Damn,” Mac cursed. No time to wait for back up, he had to find Mrs. Knight and Rachael
Anne, now.
Body tense and weapon drawn, he entered through the open mudroom door.
Professional security guards wouldn’t have been taken out so easily. He’d warned Knight that
as a high-profile executive, he and his family were prime targets.
Mac hugged the garage wall and advanced. Inside more chaos reigned – showroom perfect
kitchen trashed, dishes smashed across the floor, living room furniture overturned and shoved
askew.
Worse, the petite body of Lora Knight sprawled on the polished marble floor in front of the
wide sweeping stairs that led to the upstairs bedrooms.
He switched the Glock to his left hand and knelt, touching his fingers to her throat. Some of
the tension left him when he felt a steady pulse.
Caution and dread brought a steely determination to Mac’s steps. Slowly he climbed the stairs
headed toward the child’s room.
MJ Flournoy
AKA
Melba Moon, B.A., M.Ed.
Nothing Wrong with Country, anthology Carousel Deja Vu, Gilded Dragonfly Books
October 14, 2013
Behind The Curtain with EmKay Connor
Today I kick off the new format. Instead of work related questions, I’m asking questions that will help you get to know your favorite author or perhaps find a new one!
Welcome, EmKay Connor!
About the Author
EmKay Connor is a member of Romance Writers of America and several specialty chapters, including RWA-San Diego, First Coast Romance Writers, Yellow Rose Romance Writers, Outreach International RWA and RWA Kiss of Death. A firm believer in paying it forward (and backward and sideways), she has served as president, vice president, secretary, newsletter editor, workshop presenter and committee chair at both the local and national level. She also contributes her time and experience by volunteering to judge numerous writing contests each year.
Her manuscripts have finaled in numerous contests, including Spring Into Romance, The Unpublished Beacon and RWA’s prestigious Golden Heart. Her freelance writing has been published in print and online media, as well as being featured in several issues of the Romance Writers Report.
You won the lottery! But there’s a catch. You can only keep half and must give the rest a charity. Which one will you choose? How do you spend your half?
I’m not big on donating to formal charities. I even skimp in tithing at my own church in order to dole out money directly when I come across people who need it (like single moms, seniors on a fixed income, etc.). If I won the lottery, I would start my own foundation to help foster kids who are essentially left by the side of the road as soon as they turn 18.
I’d have no problem spending the rest! After buying modest but comfortable homes on the coast in Maine and Southern California, I would travel with my partner and children. First stop – Greece!
You’re having a Halloween party. What costume did you choose? Why?
My costume would be something vampy and trampy—exactly the sort of exotic costume I dreamed about as a teenager and never got to wear. My mom was one of those creative homemakers who sewed, hot glued or stapled me and my siblings into wacky costumes, which were usually covered by our winter coats (Halloween in Michigan). The worst was when my two younger brothers and I went trick-or-treating as a train. I was the engine and needed both hands to hang on to my “costume.” The three of us were ready to head home before our bag—carried by our mom—was even half full!
Is there something in your jewelry box of sentimental value?
I have several pieces of jewelry with sentimental value. The two pieces I wear every single day are a $20 sterling silver band with diamond chips that my partner gave me after dating for six months and a sterling silver-and-diamond “mother’s ring” my oldest son gave me for Christmas the year he flew me and his three brothers out to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with him. I have a pair of earrings that look like bows tied out of ribbon that my mother gave me when I first moved out on my own. Whenever I need a bit of encouragement, I wear the earrings to feel that maternal connection. My most treasured piece of jewelry is a big, bold blue topaz ring that belonged to my fabulously outrageous grandmother—she got her first tattoo when she was 65! I only wear her ring on truly special occasions.
What was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?
I was probably only 4 or 5 when I became a Trekkie. I adored Mr. Spock, so much so that my parents bought me “The Touch of Leonard Nimoy,” a musical compilation on 8 track tape. I remember having a meltdown one evening as my parents were dressing to go out (picture my mom in a short, short dress and yellow go-go boots and my dad in a leisure suit) after the TV station announced Star Trek was going off the air for the summer.
What is the first thing you notice about a man?
The first thing I involuntarily notice about a man is whether or not he’s wearing a wedding ring. The first thing I voluntarily check out is whether or not you can bounce a quarter off his arse. (Now everyone will know why I carry a roll of quarters in my purse!)
Okay! A couple of quickies:
Tennis shoes or sandals?
Sandals
Football or baseball?
Bowling
Color of fingernail polish?
French manicure for fingernails; bright red for toes.
Morning person or nite-owl?
Morning. I’m usually asleep by 10 p.m.
Now…tell us two truths and one lie about yourself.
I posed nude for an artist who used me as inspiration for a Viking queen.
I interviewed Pat Sajak and Vanna White for a community newspaper.
I went sky-diving to celebrate my 40th birthday.
Everyone! Try and guess the lie.
“Willing to Learn” (Boroughs Publishing Group, March 2012)
BLURB:
Meredith McKenna is neither graceful nor a beauty, but that’s never stood in her way. She knows who she is and, more importantly, what she deserves. Not one to wish on a star or hang her hopes on a fairy tale like true love, her practical nature won her the hand of a prince. That’s how she ended up here: Trésorier du Coeur. An island paradise.
But becoming a princess is no simple matter. Regardless of the mysticisms mouthed by the island’s proprietress, the jungle waterfalls and long, pristine beaches, the resort is first and foremost a school for seduction, an ancient tradition of her fiancé’s family, and she must select a man to be her “tutor.” Anders Collier is the most insubordinate and infuriating of the lot. But behind those cool gray eyes lurks a white-hot secret, and behind closed doors lies everything their hearts and bodies have yet to learn.
Excerpt:
Anders never knew there were so many different ways to be frustrated. And at the moment, he was experiencing most of them while seated in the kitchen of Meredith’s bungalow.
“You’re not even trying,” Meredith griped.
Blinded by a satin sleep mask similar to the one Meredith had worn just an hour earlier, Anders couldn’t see her displeasure but the sound of it came through loud and clear. “I don’t have a knack for sensory stimulation like you do. Can we be done now?”
“No, we can’t be done now.” She mimicked him like a spoiled nine year old who wasn’t getting her way.
Good. There was plenty of frustration to go around so she might as well deal with her share.
“Madame Duval said we were to begin practicing some of the material covered in the workshops. If you don’t like sensual touch we can certainly move on to bondage and domination. And before you get any ideas, let me warn you I’m something of a control freak.” Her flat tone carried the same unyielding steadfastness as a fence post set in concrete. “Come on. This is supposed to be fun.”
Anders pictured her jaw set and clenched, hands on broad, beautiful hips, brown eyes narrowed behind silver eyeglass frames. There was a hint of dare me in her voice, as well as a sibilant plea for his cooperation.
Which brought him back to the tangled web of frustration in which he was ensnared. Instead of tracking down information Sam and the Bureau could use to find Chai and the girls, he was playing touchy-feely games with a woman engaged to another man. And instead of disliking her more and more every day, Meredith was growing on him. She was by turns annoying and entertaining, courageous and reluctant, playful and serious, open and guarded. After spending hours together, he found himself attuned to her moods, fascinated by her quirky traits and attracted to her on both a mental and physical level. He was getting harder and harder, which was making it harder and harder to keep his distance.
“Hell’s bells, Meredith. Enough already.” Fabulous. He needed a bar of soap to wash out his mouth for all the foul words he’d been thinking, if not uttering, since making Miss McKenna’s acquaintance five days ago. Ripping off the blindfold, he shot out of the chair and, blinded by the glare of sunlight, banged heads with her.
“Ow! That hurt.” Her indignant shout blasted directly into his right ear.
“No kidding,” he yelled back.
“Stand still, you dolt, or we’re going to knock craniums again.”
“Dolt?” Anders blinked. “Did you call me a dolt? Who even uses a word like that?” As his vision cleared, Meredith’s face appeared. Her unhappy pout was overshadowed by a bright red lump swelling before his eyes in the center of her forehead. He probably had one just like it if the tender sensation between his brows was any indication. The absurdity of the conversation and the head banging struck without warning, and Anders burst out in a braying guffaw.
“What’s so funny?” Meredith demanded. “Just because I like a little variety in my vocabulary is no reason for you to laugh at me.”
Drawing in a breath to halt his hysteria, Anders saw she appeared just as he’d imagined: hands on hips, jaw clenched, eyes nothing more than narrow slits. That he had so accurately predicted her response triggered yet another bout of howling amusement.
In a matter of seconds, Anders watched her eyes widen, go shiny and narrow again. By the time he realized she had misconstrued his merriment as him laughing at her, not with her, she’d reached for something on the nearby table, upending a bowl of gooey, melted milk chocolate on his head.
“Goll-damn-frick-shit!” he bellowed, wiping the mess out of his eyes.
“Now that’s funny,” she said, forcing a humorless chuckle. She lifted her chin and swallowed hard, eyes raised toward the ceiling in an attempt to hold back the tears. “In case you didn’t get that last one, it was chocolate.”
“Oh, I got it,” Anders muttered, at a loss how to react. He should be furious. A temperamental Beverly Hills heiress had just doused an FBI special agent with chocolate sauce because he’d accidently hurt her feelings.
“I think we’ve had enough practice for one afternoon,” she said coolly. “Please show yourself out.”
As she turned away, Anders hooked a hand under her arm and pulled her back. “No way. Not when we’re finally getting the hang of this.” Startled, Meredith froze…just long enough for him to scoop up a handful of strawberries and crush them into her hair.
In a flash, the gleam of tears flared into fiery astonishment. Something shifted in Anders’s chest, launching twin rockets of reaction—one sexual heat, the other protective satisfaction. His cock hardened while his heart softened. In that moment, he wanted Meredith in so many ways. He wanted her fast and hard, soft and slow. He wanted her happy and smiling, confident and trusting. He wanted her over the back of the sofa, across the hood of his ’72 Chevy Challenger back in D.C., locked in a hungry sixty-nine position. The force of the lust and need flooding his body almost slammed him back into the chair.
“You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That.” She stared at him while thin rivulets of juice ran down her face.
“Your turn.” He held out a can of artificial whipped cream and grinned through the coating of chocolate.
Social Media & Buy Links:
Website: www.sexysassyromance.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/EmKayConnor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/emkayconnor
http://www.amazon.com/Willing-Learn-T...
