Terri Herman-Poncé's Blog: Terri Herman-Ponce, page 18

April 22, 2014

release day — IN THIS LIFE (Book 1 of the Past Life Series) — “impossible to put down”

***BUY NOW ON AMAZON***

“riveting” … “tantalizing” … “thoroughly addictive”

“the mystery was masterfully written”

“as hot and shifting as the Egyptian sands”

“a fast-paced intense read”

“a mystically romantic mystery”

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Hidden memories. Buried secrets. Resurrected revenge.

Psychologist Lottie Morgan knows something is wrong when she relives memories of a lover she’s never had. At first she attributes them to fever-induced dreams. But when the fever disappears and the visions don’t, Lottie realizes something else is going on.

Then she meets Galen. Their first encounter is as intense as it is eye-opening, and his revelation that they shared a passionate relationship thousands of years ago in ancient Egypt entices Lottie into wanting to learn more about her past. Her decision, however, comes at a price. Galen may hold the answers but he could destroy the devoted, lifelong relationship Lottie has with her current lover, David.

It also could mean her death—again.

Someone is protecting millennia-old secrets, determined to keep them buried while exacting a revenge on Lottie for a mistake made a very long time ago. A mistake she could be destined to repeat.

Take a trip to mysterious ancient Egypt, where Lottie becomes caught between two lifetimes, two men, and long-buried deceptions. Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha, Anthony and Macavity-winning author, calls this paranormal suspense “Inventive, original and thought-provoking…this mystically romantic mystery will instantly intrigue.”

___________________________________________________

BUY NOW ON AMAZON

___________________________________________________

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: Amazon, ancient Egypt, David Bellotti, In This LIfe, Kindle, Lottie Morgan, paranormal, paranormal books, paranormal suspense, Past Life series, reincarnation, soul mate, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce

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Published on April 22, 2014 05:55

April 13, 2014

sneak peek: IN THIS LIFE (ch 2) “Fast paced, well-written…amazing”

Release day is almost here!

Here’s another sneak peek inside

IN THIS LIFE

The Reading Cafe says this vengeful suspense is

“Fast paced, well-written…amazing”

Chapter 2

(read Chapter 1 here)

The line went dead.

I studied the phone in my hand then looked at David.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Though some part of me, deep down and far out of reach, felt as if maybe I should have known. It wasn’t so much the voice that was familiar but a feeling, like a buried emotional memory trying to claw its way to the surface. “But I think he knew me, David.”

David stilled. “He?”

A vague image of a man with a deep voice eased in, enveloping me in that rich, spiced scent again. It lingered, reminding me of my dream, and I inhaled deeply to savor it, to hold onto it, until it drifted away. Its absence felt wrong, as if I’d lost something extraordinary and intense. Yet I couldn’t explain why.

“Why do you think he knew you?” David asked.

I’d been too wrapped up in the dream to notice David was talking until I realized he had gone silent. With a deep inhalation I refocused and told David about the call.

“I don’t know whether to be worried or to write this off as a prank,” I said when I finished.

David’s gaze swept from me to my phone. Prank calls were typically made from an immature need for attention and threats were usually a manifestation of mental disturbance. But what happened a few minutes ago was neither.

“You sure you didn’t recognize the voice?” he asked.

“Positive,” I said, shrugging off some lingering doubt. “Something about the caller reminded me of my dream last night. That’s all.”

David took the phone and cycled through the call history. “No caller ID.” He pressed redial and seconds later the bedroom cordless rang.

We both looked at each other as I answered, finding David on the other end of the line.

“How is this possible?” I asked into the receiver.

David took the time to think about it. “Someone either has access to your account or knows how to maneuver around the system.” He disconnected the cell phone, took the cordless from my hands and set it back into its charger on the nightstand, and settled down next to me. It felt comforting having him beside me, protective, even if I didn’t always need it.

I needed it now.

“So how does he know about my dream?” I asked.

I shuddered and sank further into the bed.

David squeezed my hand in a way that was meant to comfort and tell me that everything was just fine, and dialed another number on my cell.

“Neil, it’s David. I need a favor from you.” He explained about the call and the redial back to our house. “I want to know who did it and how this happened. See what you can find out and get back to me ASAP.”

David disconnected. “Neil is one of my contacts at the phone company. If anyone can get a lead, he can.”

This came as no surprise. Ex–Marine turned contract soldier for Professional Recruitment and Operations, a global military corporation known as PROs, David had contacts everywhere.

“Should we call the police?” I asked as he returned to the windows.

He shook his head, a response I pretty much expected. I didn’t think the police could do a lot for me either. Give me a troubled teenager, an angry divorcee, or an obsessive–compulsive and I was in my element. But this made me feel vulnerable and exposed. It was as if the dream and the call and the voice unraveled something deep inside.

“David, what happens if Neil doesn’t find anything?”

“One step at a time, Lottie.” David’s voice sounded firm but I heard his doubt, too. Like me, he wanted to write this off as an oddity but neither of us would be able to do that until we found all the answers.

My cell phone rang again. David studied it in his palm, as if he’d forgotten it was there, and checked the display for a caller ID. When he frowned I assumed there was none.

“Want me to do the honors?” he asked.

I shook my head. If I was going to take any kind of control, I had to take the call myself.

The phone rang a third time.

“If it’s the guy who called before,” David said, handing it over, “don’t give him the power. Answer it, but keep him on your turf. Don’t let him manipulate you, Lottie.”

I sat up and nodded, but was having trouble digesting his instructions. Logically they made sense, but what was happening didn’t feel logical. I grabbed the phone, steadied myself, and answered. Paul Cavanaugh, a good friend and colleague from Amrose Counseling Center, was on the other end.

David sat down next to me and whispered. “Who is it?”

I mouthed the answer.

David’s jaw clenched. He and Paul tolerated each other at best, and only because of me.

“There’s a problem with Logan,” Paul said.

“What happened?” I sat up, too quickly, and braced through another surge of dizziness.

David steadied me with a strong hand and sent a stern look.

I ignored it.

“I just got a call from Amrose.” Paul’s lingering pause meant he had bad news. “Logan’s missing. His mother found a suicide note this morning that had been left in his bedroom, but she doesn’t know where he is. She couldn’t find your number and called Amrose directly, and someone patched her through to Stuart Hanley because you’ve been out sick. Then Hanley called me.”

Hanley served as the director at Sunrise Recovery where Logan, my client, was undergoing drug rehab.

Memories of a teenage client’s suicide last year resurfaced, weighing me down with regret and blame. I forgot about my stomach flu and the strange dream and the phone call. All I could see was Deborah’s coffin and her distraught mother at the funeral, dressed in black and unable to stand without help because she’d been so heavily sedated.

“Logan’s mom wants to meet with you this morning at Amrose,” Paul went on. “When I told her you were out sick, she completely lost it. So I called you to see if you could—”

“Of course I’ll meet her. I can be there this morning”

David’s gaze cut to mine and I mentally prepared for battle.

“I planned to stay home another day, Paul, but I won’t do that to Mrs. Reynolds. I can meet her this morning.” A quick glance at the digital clock on David’s nightstand showed it was just shy of eight–thirty.

“You’re not going in,” David said.

I waved my hand to shush him and hoped Paul didn’t hear. “Can you reschedule my other appointments for today, and let her know that I’ll meet her around ten–thirty?”

“Lottie—”

I waved David off again and his shoulders tensed, a warning sign that I might not want to try that again.

“Once she and I are finished,” I went on, “I’ll head back home.” I said the last more to David than to Paul, hoping it was enough to ease the growing tension between us.

“You sure?” Paul asked.

“Definitely.”

“Great. I’ll let Mrs. Reynolds know.”

We disconnected and I pushed off the covers so I could get out of bed. David grabbed my arm, stopping me halfway. He said nothing but he didn’t have to. His thoughts were more than evident on his face.

“I have to do this,” I told him.

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m not going to let this happen again,” I said. “I lost one client already to suicide. I won’t lose another.” And though hours of my own therapy helped me understand that Deborah’s death wasn’t my fault, a part of me still had trouble accepting it.

“Can’t you have someone else handle Mrs. Reynolds for you?”

“It’s not that simple, David,” I said. “And please don’t order me around and expect me to do something just because you said so.”

“I’m not looking to argue about this, Lottie.”

“Neither am I but I’m still going.”

“You’re not well.”

“Neither is Mrs. Reynolds!” My voice sounded harsher and louder than I intended, and it startled the both of us.

David looked away, probably balancing his desire to protect me with the need to let me go. He was one of the best people I knew but he also had an edge. It was what made him successful at his job and respected by his men, and occasionally annoying to me.

“This is the least I can do for Mrs. Reynolds,” I told him. “Logan is her son and my client and I owe them both.”

I stood up, and the minute I got to my feet the room swayed again. David looked at me and sighed out loud, but this time he didn’t try to stop me.

I saw his worry just the same. “I’m very well aware that I’m not one hundred percent yet, David, and I promise to be careful.”

“I’m working very hard here, you know. I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.” And I appreciated it.

David’s bright green eyes met mine and the fleeting anger and impatience I felt with him melted away, replaced with something that warmed my heart and filled my soul. He was trying his hardest. The least I could do was to return the favor. So I searched for a compromise and found one.

“Drive me there,” I said. “Hang around the office while I meet with Mrs. Reynolds and then drive me back home. This way, if I need help, you’ll be there.”

He considered me and shook his head, but acceptance only came when he said, “Fine.”

I sent him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“You can remind me of all the things you disagree with after you bring me back home,” I said, leaning down to give him a kiss.

With fingertips to my chin, he gently angled my head so that I was forced to kiss his cheek instead. “I love you, Lottie,” he said as he pulled away, “but not your germs.”

I made a chicken sound, and David gave me a wide, playful grin.

I slipped out from his hold and, on shaky legs, headed for the bathroom to get ready.

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IN THIS LIFE

Available April 22!

read Chapter 1 here

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Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: ancient Egypt, David Bellotti, In This LIfe, Lottie Morgan, Past Life series, sneak peek, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce, The Reading Cafe

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Published on April 13, 2014 08:37

March 30, 2014

sneak peek: IN THIS LIFE “inventive, original, thought-provoking”

April 22 is the big day.

And here’s a special sneak peek inside

what Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity-winning author

Hank Phillippi Ryan calls

“inventive, original and thought-provoking;

this mystically romantic mystery will instantly intrigue.”

IN THIS LIFE

Chapter 1

When you’ve known someone your entire life, there isn’t a lot they can say or do that can surprise you anymore. So when David entered the bedroom, tea and toast in hand and a determined look on his face, I knew the words that would come out of his mouth before he even said them.

“No, Lottie. You’re not going into work today.” And he watched me with an expression that said he knew what I intended to say, too.

“I’m feeling better.”

“Really?” He sat down on the king–sized bed and placed the food tray in front of me. “Eat this. All of this. Then we’ll talk.”

I smelled hot green tea and fresh toast and, for one brief moment, my stomach reminded me that it was empty before rolling over with nausea again.

He sent me a long look. “I figured as much.”

I shifted in bed and tried again. “I have a meeting with my boss today, David, plus a new client who’s expecting me. I’ve also got four appointments that I can’t walk away from.”

“You have the flu and can get your clients sick.”

Now he stared me down, aiming for intimidation despite the bare feet, blue jeans, and faded T–shirt. And I saw why the men that David commanded feared and respected him. Powerful stature aside, his green eyes had a way of cutting right through you until you felt compelled to obey his every word.

However, I wasn’t one of his men.

I nibbled the toast to prove a point more to me than to David, and my stomach pitched again. David said nothing, probably because he knew better, and I pushed out of bed and headed for the master bathroom. Halfway there, my legs turned rubbery and I knew I’d lost the battle.

Another therapist would have had a field day with my stubbornness.

I leaned against the counter and dropped my head. I felt beaten and fatigued, and uneasiness I’d been experiencing since getting sick prickled at me once again. I couldn’t pinpoint the emotion except to call it restlessness, living in a fog that would eventually lift and reveal something with life–altering clarity that I hadn’t discovered before. It was an irrational sensation and one I attributed to the flu.

“I’m on leave for the next two weeks,” David called out. “Take advantage of that and stay one more day. You know you need the rest and I can take care of you over the weekend until you go back on Monday.”

His taking care of me wasn’t the issue. The love of my life was an ace in the kitchen and a neat freak with an affectionate bedside manner. I simply wanted to get back on my own two feet, and under my own terms and steam. I grabbed a brush from a drawer and worked it through my hair. As I bent over to get the underside, dizziness followed and I held on to the counter until the room settled down. I drew in a breath, straightened and tried one last time with determined optimism. My hands moved up and down, up and down and then once again.

Two hands became three, then four. I felt a gentle tugging at my head and the weight of something heavy settle on top of it. The hands stroked and pampered, moving from my hair to my face and neck. A noise followed, the sound of a lid removed from a bottle, and a rich, spiced scent spread over the room and over me. I inhaled, long and deep, wanting more. Much, much more.

“Does it meet with your pleasure?” someone asked.

I could not answer. The aroma was too intoxicating and reminded me of him. Of us.

The person spoke my name and repeated the question, and still I could not answer. My name was uttered once more.

“Lottie?”

Hands settled on my shoulders and shook.

“Lottie?”

The aroma started fading away.

“Lottie, can you hear me?” The scent evaporated and I shook my head to clear the remnants of its evocative memories. David stood just behind, a firm grip on arms. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.” I saw his worried expression in the mirror and its intensity surprised me. “What’s wrong?”

“Enough of this already.” David steered me from the bathroom back to our bed, tucked me in and made sure I felt comfortable. He stood near me for some time and asked, “What happened in there?”

“A little nausea and another dizzy spell.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to put a name to what I felt. “Maybe I still have a fever, too.”

David touched my forehead, shook his head and sat down beside me. He was studying me now, probing, and trying to see something he didn’t see before.

“You were immobile for almost five minutes,” he said, tucking my hair behind an ear.

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“Five minutes.”

The restlessness I’d been feeling surged through me again, stronger this time, and I didn’t like the way it felt. Something seemed off, and I wasn’t sure if it was with David or with me. Remnants of last night’s sleep started trickling in, and then a connection clicked into place.

“I had a dream last night and I started remembering it in the bathroom.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember more. “I was in a room with a servant who was waiting on me. She was preparing me to meet someone. A boyfriend.” No, that wasn’t quite right. “A lover.”

I felt a tingling uneasiness as I said the word.

“A lover?” David asked.

I opened my eyes, saw David’s grin and recognized the bait for what it was.

I grinned back. “The lover wasn’t you.”

His grin widened and then faded away. “That still doesn’t explain your behavior in the bathroom. You looked like a statue.”

“I’m tired, David,” I said, sliding down under the covers. “ The human mind is capable of doing unusual things when a person is under stress, like when they’re sick, and the gods only know I’ve been feeling a lot of that these past few days. Forget about it. It’s not a worry.”

David paused. “Is that your professional assessment?”

“Yes.”

It looked like David wanted to say more but he got up and walked to the windows that overlooked the backyard instead. I wasn’t sure what was going through his mind but I knew him well enough to know not to pry. It always backfired whenever I did. So I let him have his moment, toyed with the toast, and then passed on it in favor of some tea. My cell phone rang as soon as I put the mug on the nightstand, and I answered it on the second ring.

“Tough night’s sleep, Lottie?” The voice on the other end was male and one I didn’t recognize. “You shouldn’t tell your boyfriend about your other lovers. Especially those you dream about.”

“Who is this?” I asked.

“I’m disappointed you don’t recognize me.” He laughed, the sound crawling over my skin like a snake over sand. “I’m the man you dreamed about last night.”

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Re-release date April 22

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Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: ancient Egypt, David Bellotti, hank phillippi ryan, In This LIfe, Lottie Morgan, Past Life series, sneak peek, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce

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Published on March 30, 2014 06:52

March 23, 2014

Character Interviews! Celebrating the re-release of IN THIS LIFE

The re-release of In This Life, Book 1 of the Past Life Series, is less than a month away. Less than a month!!! So, I thought now was a great time to also re-release a character interview I’d done and share it again.

I love writing the Past Life Series because I absolutely adore these characters. They are with me night and day, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. So, I hope that my love for them (and in some cases lust) shows in my storytelling. Writing them is an experience I can’t describe. They’re like a drug in my system, and one I never want to lose. I hope you enjoy these tidbits as much as I did in interviewing my characters. We all had a blast.

DR. TALETTA (LOTTIE) MORGAN

Born: December 12

5′ 7″, black hair and eyes so dark they’re almost black

Occupation: Psychologist

Favorite color: Yellow

Favorite band: Lifehouse; Plain White Ts; Colbie Caillat

Favorite food: Anything David cooks

Favorite drink: Wine

Unique physical attribute: Small dimple on her chin; heart-shaped birthmark on left shoulder

Drives: White Jeep Wrangler

Pet peeve: “David’s occasional bossiness. If anything will raise my hackles, that’s it.”

In her spare time she likes to: Play volleyball or go to the beach with David and get naked

Most embarrassing moment: “Do I really have to tell you this?” She waits for my nod. “Okay, then, I guess there’s no way around it. My best friend, Lori, and I went to a bachelorette party a while back. There about thirty of us, and around three in the morning we wound up at a mid-town New York nightclub after a long pub crawl. I don’t remember how it happened exactly, but Lori and I ended up dancing on the bar, and everyone was throwing money at us, and we started doing a fake striptease.” A sly smile emerges and she shakes her head, like maybe telling me this was a bad idea. “It didn’t get too far, mostly because we were pretending, but a bunch of guys were whistling and cheering us on because we were just having a good time. And I needed that, because sometimes I see too much in my psychology practice and it felt good to let loose.” She sighs and shakes her head again, and the grin turns into red-cheeked embarrassment. “Anyway, a few days later, I got a text from a friend asking me if I’d looked at YouTube lately. It turned out that someone took a video and posted it online, and it got almost a half million hits.” She straightens and clears her throat. “In case you’re wondering, the video isn’t online anymore. Once David discovered it, he called someone who called someone who threatened somebody else, and the video was pulled.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

DAVID M. BELLOTTI

I found this picture somewhere, way back when and with no source available, and immediately knew he was David. The face, the features . . . everything about him was spot-on. And I know what you’re thinking. Total wow, right? Now you know why I’m addicted to him.

Born: June 13

6’2″, 195 lbs, black hair and green eyes

Occupation: Leads an elite commando team for global military corporation, Professional Recruitment & Operations (PROs)

Favorite color: Whatever Lottie’s wearing

Favorite band: Saving Abel; Nickelback; Staind

Favorite food: Anything Thai

Favorite drink: Red wine and tequila, but never together

Unique physical attribute: Jagged scar that runs up the inside of his left arm

Drives: Ford Expedition in Dark Blue Metallic

Pet peeve: “Lying. Don’t like doing it. Don’t like having it done to me.”

In his spare time he likes to: Spend the day or night on the beach behind the dunes with Lottie, a blanket, and a couple of bottles of wine.

Most embarrassing moment: David gives me one of those disarming grins that fires up his striking green eyes. “Went out with the guys one night, when Lottie was going to a bachelorette party. Things got rowdy quickly. I don’t remember much, but I remember my best friend, Nat, complaining that he needed a vacation and demanding to go to Bali. So we drove him to the post office, don’t ask me why, and left him there so he could take his trip. Then someone drove me home — only when I got home I couldn’t get my key in the door. I kept trying, but the damned thing wouldn’t budge. Somehow I got inside and all I kept thinking was, I need a bed. Or something. Somewhere between the front door and my bedroom, I stripped and passed out.” David glances away, but the hint of the devil still lurks in his eyes. Then he looks back at me. “Woke up the next day on a pool table with a black lab next to me. Wasn’t my house. It was the Senator’s. And he was not happy to see me there.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

GALEN BRISCOE

Found this picture of David Gandy and immediately knew he was Galen. Yowza.

Born: February 15

5’11″, 175 lbs, dark hair and eyes the color of fine Egyptian sand

Occupation: Sniper for global military corporation, Professional Recruitment & Operations (PROs)

Favorite color: Brown, because it’s earthy

Favorite band: Clairy Brown & The Bangin’ Rackettes; Adele

Favorite food: A loaded cheeseburger

Favorite drink: Anything that involves great people and a great mood

Unique physical attribute: His voice; it soothes you like silk and caresses you like satin

Drives: Silver Audi convertible

Pet peeve: “For the people who love to text and check email while you’re in a movie theater, please stop that.”

In his spare time he likes to: Hike in the woods and connect with nature where life is untainted, simple, and pure.

Most embarrassing moment: “I’d prefer not to share those stories with you.” I try to convince him to change his mind, but he won’t do it. He offers me a carrot instead. “I do, however, have a story that I feel a little guilty about that I know you’ll appreciate. I went out with Bellotti and Nat one night, and some other guys from PROs. Everyone was partying pretty heavy but I stopped early because I’d drawn the short straw to be one of the DDs. Around four in the morning it was obvious that Bellotti wasn’t getting home on his own, and it probably would have served him right that I left him where we were but I couldn’t do it. So I loaded him up in my car and started driving, and then I started thinking about all the grief he’d given me over Lottie since I met him.” He stops, knowing he’s already said too much, but Galen’s feelings for Lottie are no secret. He tamps down on the emotion, puts on his best game face and continues. “I don’t know what got into me, but I decided not to bring him home and so I took him to Carla’s instead. Her father is a Senator and I knew how he’d react to finding Bellotti there, but Bellotti deserved a comeuppance. The funny thing was, Bellotti never realized it wasn’t his house and he kept trying his key over and over to get inside. I knew the key code from when Carla and I used to hook up, and before I could stop him, Bellotti took off, stripped, and laid down on the pool table. The last thing I heard was something that sounded like ‘Need a new bed. This one’s too hard.’” I ask Galen if David ever found out that he was behind the escapade. “No. He got sidetracked with some video of Lottie on YouTube right after that night and forgot about it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

NAT HUTCHINS

Born: March 29

5’11″, 225 lbs.

Occupation: Tech wizard for global military corporation, Professional Recruitment & Operations (PROs)

Favorite color: Red

Favorite band: Led Zeppelin; AC/DC

Favorite food: “Steak, so rare it’s still mooing, man.”

Unique physical attribute: Built like a professional wrestler and a teddy bear at heart

Drives: Tricked out Cherry Red Mustang

Pet peeve: “Keep your paws off my car!”

In his spare time he likes to: Watch Finding Nemo with his wife, Lori, and their three sons

Most embarrassing moment: Nat laughs out loud. “Oh man, you had to be there.” He sits upright, like he can’t wait to tell this story. “Went out with the guys to blow off steam. I mean, we were totally fired up. Had the DDs, you know, and hired cabs to get guys home, but holy crap. It was freaking wild. This was one of those nights you talk about for years and never tell your kids.” He pauses. “If you can remember it. Anyway, we were yakking it up about vacations, coz David and Lottie vacation everywhere, and I got annoyed because I wanted to go away, too. I mean, I love my kids, but I’m busting for some one on one with my wife somewhere far away. Then some brat in the group, might have been David, was saying how much he loved Bali and I started chomping for Bali, too. The next thing I know, I’m waking up with a crowd of people looking down at me coz I was lying on the sidewalk next to the post office. The freaking post office! With postage plastered. All. Over. My. Ass.”

Want to know more about In This Life? Click here.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: ancient Egypt, David Bellotti, embarrassing moment, Galen Briscoe, In This LIfe, Lottie Morgan, Past Life series, reincarnation, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce

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Published on March 23, 2014 08:58

March 21, 2014

What’s wrong with buying your way onto the bestseller list?

What’s wrong with buying your way onto the bestseller list?.

It’s nothing new, but it’s also never sat well with me.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: bestseller list, The Passive Voice

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Published on March 21, 2014 13:41

March 16, 2014

cover reveal: IN THIS LIFE (Book 1 of the Past Life Series)

It’s here.

It’s here!

~~The new cover for IN THIS LIFE~~~

Gotta tell you that I’m t-h-r-i-l-l-e-d.

This new cover so totally fits. It’s got Lottie front and center. The ethereal feel I wanted. The hint of ancient Egypt in the hieroglyphs. The sense of something beyond…

Or before…

You have no idea how excited I am to share this new brand with you. I adored writing this book and, even more so, I’m absolutely loving writing the Past Life Series. Will you join me for the ride?

Here’s a hint of what In This Life is about:

___________________________________________________

Hidden memories. Buried secrets. Resurrected revenge.

It also could mean her death—again.

Someone is protecting millennia-old secrets, determined to keep them buried while exacting a revenge on Lottie for a mistake made a very long time ago. A mistake she could be destined to repeat.

In This Life is scheduled to re-release in April.

A resurrection, if you will.

___________________________________________________

Blatant promotion: GS Prendergast from Cover Your Dreams does AMAZING cover work. Want to find out more? Check out her site now.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: ancient Egypt, Cover Your Dreams, David Bellotti, G.S. Prendergast, hank phillippi ryan, In This LIfe, Lottie Morgan, Past Life series, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce

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Published on March 16, 2014 08:01

March 9, 2014

Tips – when did the concept go so wrong?

I got my car washed this morning (it was f-i-l-t-h-y courtesy of snow and lingering salt), and the guy tending to it did an outstanding job. Like always, I tipped him but threw in extra. Coz, you know, he was THAT good. Then I went to the bagel store, got in line, ordered a plain bagel, paid, and left. But not before noticing a brand new tip jar on the counter near the register.

Uh. What went wrong here?

Here’s the deal. I was brought up that tips were meant for those who provided a service. In particular, for those people who earned less than minimum wage because there’s an assumption by the state they work in that they’re earning their money in tips. It’s NOT extra pay for the underpaid. It’s a way of telling a server that they’ve done a bang-up job, given you outstanding service, and you’re going to give them credit for it. And if you don’t tip them well, that’s your way of saying their service crapped big ones and they’re going to have to survive on the less-than-minimum-wage paycheck that week.

Lynn Kelley Author | WANA Commons

So let’s see. I currently tip the guy who washes my car. The woman who cuts and colors my hair. The server who helps me choose a great meal and who, without fail, ensures my dining experience was enjoyable and, if they really went above and beyond, memorable.

Then, in my opinion, there’s the gray area tipping. The guy who takes my luggage to my hotel room, and the woman who takes my luggage through the airport terminal so I don’t have to carry it. Cab drivers and parking lot attendants. The folks who clean my room after a hotel stay (now there’s a thankless job). The people who clean my house (who get a tip at Christmastime, as a sort of bonus). The mail carrier and garbage men (who also get a tip at Christmastime, as a sort of bonus).

LMRitchie | WANA Commons

And then there’s the I-don’t-get-why-you’re-asking-for-a-tip tip. These are the containers near cash registers at the gas station or at the local coffee shop or, as I mentioned above, the bagel store. Ummm. Hold on a second here. If a tip is for outstanding service and is meant to supplement a worker’s income because they get less than minimum wage because tips are the basis for their income, then why would I tip someone who is getting minimum wage (or more)? Better yet, why tip someone who is doing their job and where it doesn’t make a heap of difference whether they give me crappy service or great service?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a solid tipper (just ask the wait staff at my favorite restaurants who, when they see me, ask me to sit in their section). But I’m also a confused one.

What do you think?

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: minimum wage, restaurant, service, tipping, tips

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Published on March 09, 2014 09:55

March 2, 2014

I Can’t Sit Still — Exciting Things Are Coming!

I haven’t updated my readers on what’s coming in a long time. And for good reason. I’ve been getting a lot of ducks in order first. But I’m thrilled to say, I’ve taken some serious steps over the past few weeks that are propelling my writing forward and bringing new things to you (and me!).

First off, I gotta tell you that working the whole book-writing and book-marketing thing is not easy. It takes up every bit of my free time (of which there isn’t much, so I have to get uber-creative in managing my hours), and it often gives me a headache. But, and this is a big but (omg, did that sound funny only to me?), when I check off some of the major items on my book release to-do list, I get freaking ecstatic. Talk about a relief and an incredible sense of satisfaction.

I just sent in covers and blurbs and review copy for two book tours that will start in May and end in late June. Yeah, I know. The pace is going to drive me c-r-a-z-y (30 stops over 6 weeks–YIKES!) and that means I’ll be meditating more than just once a day to keep my focus and my sanity. I’ll be exhausted when all is said and done but it’ll totally be worth it. Lots of giveaways planned, and hopefully new readers to be found who will love my characters as much as I do.

I also just sent in copy for paperback covers to be created, so that my books will be available for e-readers as well as folks who prefer to hold paper and binding in their hands. My cover artist is a genius, and so totally gets what my stories are about and I can’t wait to share them with you! I’m bursting, knowing that it’s not time yet, but I promise you’ll see them when it’s right. I think they’re abso-freaking-lutely amazing.

I’m also working on Book 3 of the Past Life Series. This one is writing itself, for the most part, and I’m so totally digging how my characters are challenging each other and me. New twists and turns, new insights into David and Lottie’s past lives, new challenges, and new, nasty enemies–one of which I didn’t see coming!

Hot damn, I LOVE writing.

Okay, so that’s it. Yeah, I know that this week’s blog wasn’t long but I just had to share my news. Old stories finding new life; new stories being born. So many things to come, and I’m grateful to be able to share it with you, my readers.

Namaste.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: books, ebooks, Past Life series, Terri Herman, Terri Herman-Ponce, Terri Ponce, writing, writing fiction

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Published on March 02, 2014 11:23

February 23, 2014

Despite It All, I’m Still Loving the Snow

I know Mother Nature has had her laughs lately, but I’m one of those folks lovin’ it. I know, call me crazy, but I adore the winter and the snow even more so. To me, there’s something comforting about a snowy white blanket that brings out the chill in your cheeks and a quiet calm to the world around you.

Growing up, I adored snow days. I remember sitting by the radio, listening for those wonderful words announcing that school was closed. Back then (geez, am I really using the phrase ‘back then’? I’m not that old…), we didn’t have the technology that meteorologists have today. If a storm came, you had maybe a day or two notice to prepare. And when it was a biggie, people flocked to stores and emptied shelves because roads weren’t cleared as quickly or as efficiently as they are now, and that meant you really had to plan out food and staples just in case you were snowbound for a long while. In fact, I remember blizzards when you had one narrow path down the street for cars to pass through one at a time. And it stayed that way until the temperature warmed enough to melt it away, sometimes a week or longer.

It’s funny, too. I remember waking up in the morning to go to school, all bleary-eyed and belligerent. Because what kid really wants to go to school? But the minute I heard the cancellation notice? Oh man, I perked up big time. All of a sudden, I had energy and drive and motivation to get into my gear (several layers of sweaters topped off with a parka, one of those vintage 1970s long tail knit hats, a couple of pairs of socks, mittens, and boots), trudge through the snow, build a snowman, sled down the street’s hill, and come back inside all cold and wet and snow-blown. My mom would give me hot soup to warm my bones, and I’d eat it sitting in a chair by the hot air vent in the wall with my toes stuck inside the grates to warm them.

Nirvana.

Fast forward a bunch of years and I still have the same appreciation for a snowstorm, albeit in a different way.

Yeah, I recognize how challenging it is to dig out after a big snowfall. When Left Brain went on a business trip a couple of weeks ago, Spawn and I were left to do the job (twice) on our own. So the appreciation is there. And it gets even more challenging when the snow keeps coming at you, with no hope of immediate relief.

That’s when folks start getting cranky. They get impatient when driving, impatient when walking, and impatient because Spring can’t come fast enough. But, to me, this is wishing time away and that takes away from enjoying the moment and appreciating what life has to offer.

Now, as I’ve matured some (though I’d argue that inside I’m still a kid), I enjoy the snow in a different way. I’ll sit inside, holding a warm cup of tea, watching heavy snowflakes wisp to the ground. Snowflakes take their time. Even when snowfall is heavy, snow has a relaxed rhythm to it. And it takes me along for the ride. Just like the snowfall, I feel no need to rush. Snow, when it blankets the ground, has a very calming effect. It softens the sharp edges that man has infringed on the planet, and muffles the caustic noises brought about by our industrialization.

It’s Mother Nature’s way of slowing down our craziness, and giving us time to reflect and slow down with her…

…until man powers up the snow blowers to dig their way out and find their way back to the crazy, hectic life they were living before the snow dared to infringe itself upon us.

But not me. Nuh uh. Even days later, when everything is dug out, the wonderful, warming effects of snowfall linger. I still go outside into the cold and draw in a deep breath. So deep, I draw the chill right into the depths of my lungs. So deep, I can feel Mother Nature pulse through my veins and clear all thought. So deep, I become one with myself and the beauty around me.

So yeah. I still love the snow and suspect I always will. And for good reason.

It centers me, and does wonders for my soul.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: Mother Nature, snow, snow blower, snow day, winter

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Published on February 23, 2014 09:33

February 16, 2014

Months Later, and Breaking Bad STILL Haunts Me

Yep. I’m a self-professed Breaking Bad-aholic. I’m not a fanatical fan by any means. But I’ve developed a very healthy appreciation for some of the BEST writing around. It’s been almost two months since I finished watching the series (courtesy of Santa Claus, who delivered the final season DVDs Christmas morning) and the storyline STILL haunts. And this is A Good Thing.

This thought came to me as I was doing homework for a Deep Editing class I’m taking this month. There are many good books out there, and some of them are real standouts. And then there are those books that grab you by the throat and squeeze so hard, the impression left behind is permanent.

Now, Breaking Bad isn’t a book but it is storytelling. And it’s grabbed me so hard I still can’t shake its effects.

So I thought about how and why Breaking Bad made such an impression on me and, surprisingly, the answer wasn’t all that simple.

It’s the storytelling, first and foremost. Yes. Definitely. I mean, here’s this chemistry teacher who is diagnosed with a fatal disease and who decides he’s going to provide for his family in the only way he knows: by using his chemistry skillz to cook the purest meth around. And who’s thinking he’ll stop once he reaches the financial threshold he needs.

Only he doesn’t.

It’s about a character who becomes involved with drug cartels and dealers, and who faces death square in the face (on the receiving and giving end) many times, all for the love of his family.

Until he realizes he loves himself more.

It’s about people whose actions have consequences. Serious, irreparable, damaging consequences.

That bring on even more serious, irreparable, damaging consequences.

It’s about bad and good.

And the blurred line that exists between them.

It’s about the imperfections found in all people.

Even the good ones, who aren’t always that good. Because, you know, that’s human nature.

cellar_door_films | WANA Commons

This is, in my opinion, what stellar storytelling is all about. Life, like people, is complex. And a great book is also complex. That doesn’t mean it has to read as complex–only that the characters need multidimensional layers. They need to feel real. They need to draw a reader in, sink their fangs into reader empathy, and make the reader think, “Geez, if that were me, I might have done the same thing. And how scary is that?”

A great book draws on the fears and worries and the humanity inside of us. Suspense. Mystery. Sci-Fi. Romance. The genre doesn’t matter. What does matter is that real-life complexities are there, on the page. Decisions, good and bad, are made, leaving the reader breathless as to what will happen next.

I can think of two authors who do this very thing for me. Who are just so stellar that when they release a book, I’m willing to stop the rest of the world just so I can indulge myself for the day in their storytelling. These authors are Robert Crais and Harlan Coben.

One day, I hope to grow up and write like them–only in my own way.

One day, I hope to write stories that people will talk about.

One day, I hope to offer memorable, haunting characters that a reader can’t shake loose.

One day…

In the meantime, I’ll continue to study the greats like Crais and Coben, and watch reruns of Breaking Bad. Coz, you know, there ain’t nothin’ like stellar storytelling.

What about you? Have you experienced such stellar storytelling through reading or television or the movies that it still haunts? I’d love to know.

Filed under: Stories Behind The Stories Tagged: Breaking Bad, fiction, Harlan Coben, Robert Crais, storytelling, writing, writing fiction