Linda Joyce's Blog, page 7
April 29, 2014
Thank you! Thank you!
Bayou Born is a
2014 RONE Award Finalist
Thank you!
Bayou Born
by Linda Joyce
“It is now being read and rated by a panel of professional judges which will determine the winner of the “Best Indie or Small Published book of 2014”.
Winners will be presented at the gala RONE awards ceremony on July 11th, 2014 at the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas, NV, in conjunction with the Romance Novel Convention”
~ InD’tale Magazine
The Contemporary General Category had twenty-nine nominees. The finalist list is down to nine. My book could not have made it to the finals without the support of friends and readers. I am grateful. Again, thank you!
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Bayou Born will make it across the finish line and go from Finalist to Winner.
Smiles,
Linda Joyce
http://www.linda-joyce.com
FB: https://www.facebook.com/LindaJoyceAuthor
Twitter: @LJWriter
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/...
April 24, 2014
Traces … of history AND a Party!
Hi! I’m Betty Bolté.
Thanks to my good friend, Linda Joyce, for inviting me here today to share my exciting news. My debut romantic women’s fiction story, Traces, will be released on Monday, April 28!
Betty Bolté, Author of Traces
To celebrate, I’m throwing a virtual book launch party on Facebook (12:00 p.m. – 7:00 p.m. CDT) and you’re all invited! Just click this link http://on.fb.me/1lEl9wj to access the Traces Event page and Join the fun.Linda will be among 9 other guest authors participating by chatting with the party goers and giving away free books or other goodies each half hour! I’ll also be giving away books and chatting with everyone throughout the day. This is a fun way to meet the authors and add to your to-be-read pile! Below is a bit more about my first romantic fiction to whet your appetite. I hope to see you on Monday!
Now, about Traces…Before I started writing Traces last year, I needed to walk the interior of at least one of these historic buildings, to experience the ambiance in order to recreate it on the page as much as to satisfy my curiosity. I happened across an old plantation actually for sale not too far from my home. Greer House sits on a winding road outside of Petersburg, Tennessee. After contacting the real estate agent, I called a historian friend and we went to take a quick tour. Greer House obviously used to be important to the families who lived there (e.g., ballerina wall paper clings to the walls in the staircase leading to the children’s rooms) but now it needs a lot of TLC. The interior layout, modifications, and types of repairs necessary directly influenced the layout and rundown appearance of my fictional plantation, Twin Oaks.
After Greer House, I journeyed to the Rattle and Snap Plantation located outside of Columbia, Tennessee, dragging inviting good friends along, two who are interested in history and touring sites such as this, as well as one special friend who is also an architect. I wanted to see for myself the construction techniques, to find out what the interior rooms were called, and how they were used. But I had not expected to be swept away by the grand architecture and beautiful furnishings within the walls of the plantation home itself.
The original owners, Sally and George Polk, were very wealthy, as evidenced by the inclusion of 10 two-story columns, which equaled the cost of the rest of the L-shaped house ($42,000 in the 1840s, or approximately $2.2 million today). Those columns are also wide enough for someone to be dropped lowered into from above, a fact incorporated into Traces.
You can see my photos as well as some other images I referred to while writing Traces by visiting http://www.pinterest.com/bettybolte9/my-tour-of-rattle-and-snap-plantation/ and http://www.pinterest.com/bettybolte9/plantations-and-antebellum-houses/.
Traces, by author Betty Bolté
What’s Traces about? Here’s the blurb.Meredith Reed, a forty-year-old architect turned demolition expert, desperately searches for the means to bury her grief. When she inherits her family’s historic plantation home in Tennessee, she decides to start anew by razing the antebellum house and replacing it with a memorial garden. A plan met with outrage from her family and her grandmother’s estate lawyer.
James Maximillian “Max” Chandler needs two things to complete his life plan: become a senior partner and find his soul mate. He’s been promised a promotion once his proposed legislation to protect all of the county’s historic properties is approved. The wife part he finds more challenging, having never met the right woman in all of his forty-six years. If only the talented and attractive Meredith weren’t so aloof toward him and didn’t want to destroy the very property he’s grown to cherish.
Meanwhile, Meredith’s estranged sister moves in and refuses to leave. The memories of their childhood spent there causes turmoil between them. And while Meredith struggles to reconcile her past and her future, she learns a lesson from the spectral Lady in Blue that may save both her family and the family home from destruction.
Excerpt From Traces
“What is it you do again?” Max aimed mirrored sunglasses in her direction.
“Demolition.” Meredith slid her purse strap more securely onto her shoulder. She snatched the manila folder off the hood of the vehicle, a file Max had handed to her at his office. Inside were copies of the legal papers he’d reviewed with her across his massive mahogany desk. “Why?”
“Your grandmother said you were an architect. Demolition is a rather unique profession for a woman, isn’t it?” He let his gaze drift away from her to scan the hundreds of acres of fields and trees and the various outbuildings surrounding the plantation house. A circle of trees nearly hid the old gazebo from view, but they couldn’t stop the surge of memories of afternoons spent with her sister, Paulette, playing under its roof. Glimpses of white painted boards and black wrought-iron trim appeared through the dense branches and limbs sprouting with new growth.
“I like to be different.” Meredith dropped her attention to the folder, severing the thread of the past, and turned a page without reading it. Once she’d built homes and offices, spaces conducive to living and loving, but that was five years ago. Why did Max care what she did? She slanted a questioning glance his way. “Keeps things interesting, ya know?”
“I’d imagine. Listen, I hate to rush this,” Max said, his words clipped, “but I have a client to meet in an hour. Let me show you around.” He indicated for her to lead up the steps.
Bristling at his tone, Meredith pinned him with a stare. “Look, you don’t need to. It’s been a while, true, but I have been here before. I know the layout. We can go.” Then she wouldn’t have to go inside and relive the happy, carefree days of her childhood through the weary eyes of an adult while Max watched.
He shook his head, his dark chocolate hair touched with gray sweeping his collar, watching her. “Things have changed. You may be surprised by what you find inside.” He tapped a hand against one thigh and cocked his head to gaze at her for a long moment. “Either way, you should take stock of what you’ve inherited.”
He didn’t appear much like a lawyer, truth be told. Didn’t lawyers wear prescription glasses and look nerdy? Not that she believed in stereotypes, but all that studying must make their eyes weak. Max was the other end of the spectrum. Perhaps her grandmother had a need for eye candy when she chose him as her estate planner.
He was delicious to contemplate, that’s for sure. Probably a couple inches taller than a cornstalk with a soccer player’s physique, Max could double for a cover model. She appreciated his classic good looks, straight nose, and strong jaw. Dressed in khakis and a deep red polo shirt, he seemed more ready for a round of golf than a client meeting. He represented the unattainable type of man for her. The kind embodying something too smart, too handsome, too much for her taste. Even if she were in the market for a man, which she was not. None of that mattered since she would be staying in the area for a short while. Despite her hard shell of indifference to the opposite sex, she couldn’t help a moment of succumbing to the temptation of drinking her fill of his appearance. But only for an instant. If she let her guard down, her personal destruction would soon follow.
Buy Links
Pre-order link: http://www.lsbooks.com/pre-order-coming-soon-romance-books-c322.php
Shortened Pre-order link: http://bit.ly/1kgZ9n3
About Betty:
Betty Bolté writes both historical and contemporary stories that feature strong, loving women and brave, compassionate men. No matter whether the stories are set in the past or the present, she loves to include a touch of the paranormal. Traces is a contemporary romantic women’s fiction novel set in a haunted plantation home in Tennessee, scheduled for release on April 28, 2014. Hometown Heroines: True Stories of Bravery, Daring, and Adventure (2012) is a collection of short historical fiction based on the real-life achievements of 19 American girls in the 19th century, each with a landmark in the United States of America. The first edition won Honorable Mention in the 2003 Writer’s Digest International Self-Published Book Awards and 2000 Writer’s Digest Writing Competition. She’s the author of several nonfiction books and currently marketing a romantic historical fiction trilogy.
Social Media Links
Website: www.bettybolte.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorBettyBolte
Twitter: @BettyBolte
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/bettybolte
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/bettybolte9
Amazon: www.amazon.com/author/bettybolte
Linda here: I hope you’ll join Betty’s party on Monday, April 28th. There will be free books and other goody giveaways!.
Happy Reading to all!
Linda Joyce
www.linda-joyce.com
April 10, 2014
Book, Blues, and Men, not boys
I’m talking books today.
Bayou Bound brings Biloxi Dutrey home and face-to-face with a man from the ONLY family in Mississippi and Louisiana that her family hates.
Biloxi Dutrey grounds her jet-setting photography career and returns to Mississippi when she learns her family home, Fleur De Lis, is headed for financial ruin. She plans to save it by scooping up the job of Keeper. But that means breaking tradition, and her family isn’t cooperating.
People often ask me, if a movie was made of this book, who would play Nick Trahan?
Veterinarian Nick Trahan is new in town and wants folks to stop matchmaking. He won’t settle for just a pretty face. He wants the perfect woman, one who believes in family and commitment…the exact opposite of his parents.
Nick rescues Biloxi during a raging storm, but the squall is tame compared to the tempest between them. Soon they experience the backlash from the long-standing feud between their families. If Biloxi surrenders her dreams for Fleur de Lis and tows the line with tradition, will she also be forced to give up on “forever love” due to the hate their families still harbor?
Who would you suggest?
Tab Benoit
If you’ve read Bayou Bound, listen to this video and tell me, don’t you think Tab Beniot is THE perfect man to play Nicholas Trahan?http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqv5PnKm-2k
If you haven’t read Bayou Bound yet, leave a comment (and include your email with the comment OR email me a comment) and next Wednesday, I’ll give away an eBook copy of Bayou Bound to one lucky person.
Happy reading!
Linda Joyce
Website: http://www.linda-joyce.com
Blog: Linda Joyce Contemplates. http://lindajoycecontemplates.com
Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/LindaJoyceAuthor
Twitter: @LJWriter
Pintrest: http://pinterest.com/LindaJoyceWorld/boards/
Amazon: Bayou Born http://amzn.com/B00B9L1VAC
Bayou Bound http://amzn.com/B00I28U6OC
March 28, 2014
Informed but not controlled
Friday with Friends.
People are complex.
Do you agree?
Cruising on a shrimp boat in Louisiana
Our lives are made up of interwoven roles. Mother, daughter, sister, brother, son, father, company employee, volunteer. The list goes on. However, sometimes its easier, healthier even, to distance one role from another.For example, I once worked in a very competitive and stressful environment. I never discussed my personal life with anyone there, so much so that after two years when I resigned, people were shocked to learn that I was married.
(No, I didn’t even wear a wedding ring to work.)
In the complexity of life, it is said that none of us escape childhood without at least one wounding. As adults, we learn to protect our hearts and hide our wounds. Keep them from plain sight.
Is my wounding smaller than yours? Is yours smaller than mine? What causes a wounding in one person, may not impact another in the same way. Yet the wound is still there. I choose empowerment over victimhood. I choose to be informed by my childhood and not controlled.
It’s my opinion that anyone experiencing racism and prejudice feels the sting of it. The degree is not the important measure. The critical point is that we have the power as individuals and groups to make the decision to conduct ourselves with integrity and accountability. To be inclusive. To stand down fear of differences. To have our actions come from a place of compassion within ourselves. We have the power to strive to be the best “self” we are able. It’s all about choice.
Shrine on top of Mt. Hakone in Japan.
Cajun grandmother and me.
Almond-Eyed Angel
by Linda Joyce
Brakes squealed as the driver slowed the school bus and passed a smaller one stopped by the side of the road. Hannah peered out the window. Flashers from the other bus snapped off and on, quick stabs of yellow, the only color in the grey Nebraska countryside glistened against the snow. She tried to catch a glimpse of the kids on the other bus, but fogged windows made it impossible to see anything except faint silhouettes in the last rays of the December afternoon.
Mr. Charlie pulled off the road, and the bus jerked to a stop.
Why is the bus stopped? Did someone die from the cold?
Hannah rubbed her mitten-clad hands and blew warm air into them as she’d seen her daddy do whenever he came in from the cold. Since she’d started kindergarten, she paid more attention to grownup things. After all, her mother reminded her daily that she was a big girl now. She had to be brave and do big girl things, like riding the bus to the city for school.
“Stay in your seats,” Mr. Charlie barked. He pointed to Mary in the seat ahead of Hannah. “You’re in charge.” Then, he opened the doors. Cold air whipped down the aisle. It reminded Hannah of a cartoon where Winter had long skeletal fingers like the bare branches of trees and blew a frosty breath that covered everything. Hanna shivered against the chill.
Mr. Charlie hopped down the steps and signaled to Mary who jumped up, ran past the first two rows of seats and closed the doors behind him. Turning around with lips pursed and eyes squinted, Mary scanned the bus, as if daring anyone to move. She planted her feet and crossed her arms like the avenging angel Hannah had seen in a picture Bible. Mary looked as scary as that angel, but Hannah wasn’t afraid. Though Mary was a third grader, she had tried to help her several times. Besides, Mary had said she only made mean faces to keep the third-grade boys in line.
Hannah pulled her knitted scarf closer around her neck to block a frigid draft. How late would she be? The bus ride to and from school usually took thirty minutes. Hannah’s mother had bought a watch and taught her to tell time.
“Now, you always know when you come home,” Mother had said.
But Hannah hadn’t needed the watch. The bus driver kept a reliable schedule. Daily, when the bus reached the weathered wooden wagon next to the Danby Farm sign, the watch’s little hand landed on four and the big hand on nine. Then, bus ride would take only fifteen minutes longer. Yet, only when they reached the Danby farm, half way into the trip, was when the bus finally warmed up against the bitter cold– at least warm enough so that when she got off the bus, she could run home without her teeth chattering.
Hannah ran home every day even though her mother scolded and told her not to. “It is no good lady-like behavior,” Mother said. “If you run, you fall, you ruin tights. I bought two new pair already. No extra money.”
After the last time she fell in the mud made from melting snow, Daddy had made her march the path from the bus stop to home with him. “It’s only a hundred yards. I expect you to obey your mother, sugar pie,” he had said and tweaked her ear.
But, after leaving the bus each day, Hannah ran most of the way home to escape the boys. She walked the last few yards to catch her breath, so her mother wouldn’t know she’d disobeyed.
Once, her mother had caught her running. Mother was visiting a neighbor who lived half way between home and the bus stop. Mother stepped from the porch and surprised Hannah.
“I saw bus through window. I meet you and we walk home together,” Mother said. “Now, I have to punish. You not obey.”
Hannah hung her head. Her mother’s disappointment weighed heavy in her heart. But she couldn’t dare explain why she disobeyed. Mother wouldn’t understand. Hannah accepted that breaking the rules brought consequences. She took three whacks on her bottom with a paddle without a sound. No dessert after dinner had been more painful.
The boys taunted her in whispers and brought her thoughts back to the cold bus. Humming under her breath, she tried to shut the boys out. Tried to think of something warm. That’s what Daddy had taught her. He said it never snowed in New Orleans, his hometown, and he’d gotten used to the Nebraska cold. It only took mind over matter, whatever that meant, and she had to focus on something warm like the waters of Lake Pontchartrain. He made her close her eyes and picture them riding in Grandpa’s boat with the sun on their faces. She did as he said, but had lied when he’d asked if she felt warmer.
Later, she’d learned Daddy sometimes practiced “do as I say, not as I do,” like the night she pretended to be asleep when Mother checked on her. Mother added a blanket on top of the bed, turned on the night light and left the bedroom door opened a crack. Hannah could hear Daddy talking from the next room.
“Darlin’, this place is going to kill me. Death by freezing. I hate working in the cold and the snow. I especially hate being stuck in a place where pig stink is the smell of money.”
That night, Hannah snuck into her parents’ bedroom while they slept. She opened her father’s wallet and pulled out a dollar bill. Sniffed. What was wrong with her nose? The money hadn’t smelled like Darby Farm. It had no smell at all.
Mr. Charlie’s return interrupted the boys’ taunts. “Kids, we have to help these students. Their bus is broke down and we’re gonna give them a ride. Boys stand. Girls, scoot over. Three to a seat. Once the girls from the other bus are seated, you boys fill in the empty spots. Some of you older ones may have to sit on the floor.”
In relief, Hannah exhaled. She wouldn’t have to sit on the floor. The snow they’d tracked in when they boarded the bus had melted into wet pools. If she came home with a dirty coat and stained tights, Mother wouldn’t understand.
A murmur of protest followed Mr. Charlie’s instructions. Earl Barton, the biggest third grader, grumbled something, but Hannah couldn’t make out his words.
“We’ll do this in silence.” Mr. Charlie’s voice rang sharp as cold air snaked on to the bus.
The girls from the other bus boarded single file. “Girls, go to the back and fill in those seats first.”
Hannah peeked at them as they passed. She didn’t know any of the girls. Each wore a navy blue coat, navy blue tights and a plaid navy blue-and-white skirt. Except for their hair, some blonde and some brown, she couldn’t tell them apart.
Once the girls were seated, the kindergarten boys from Hannah’s class filled in the few open seats, but Mr. Charlie didn’t make the older boys sit on the floor. They stood, including Earl, and held on to the metal loops on the side of each seat. Then, Mr. Charlie put the bus in gear and pulled from the side of the road.
Something hard stung Hannah in the back of the head. A penny dropped to the floor. She whipped around to see who threw it.
“Pst.” Earl stood in the aisle next to the seat behind Hannah’s. He looked like a green snowman in his puffed out jacket and a hoodlum with his ski cap pulled low over his forehead. “You wanna be one of us for a change? Here’s your chance. You gotta help us when we get off the bus.”
A tiny thread of joy spread through Hannah.
I can be like the rest of the kids?
“Well, yes or no? You in or out?”
Hannah bobbed her head “yes” several times, then faced the front of the bus with her heart pounding hard in her chest. Uneasiness crept up her spine. A ribbon of fear replaced the joy.
Mr. Charlie turned the bus onto the snow-covered gravel lot the neighborhood used as a bus stop. Silence replaced the crunching sound the bus tires usually made when rolling over the rocks. Snow had covered the ground since Hannah boarded the school bus for school at noon. Now the world looked clean and fresh, though it was almost dark outside.
Hannah hugged her book bag close and waited to exit the bus. When it was her turn, she rose from her seat and followed Mary.
“When you get off the bus, go to the rear so the driver can’t see us,” Earl whispered from behind.
Hannah stepped off the bus. Ahead to her right, Mary had stopped and turned. “Come on, Hannah, I’ll walk you home today. It’ll be dark as pitch by the time we get there.”
Hannah stepped toward Mary.
Earl piped up as he exited the bus. “Naw, Mary. You go on. Pipsqueak is gonna be one of us today.”
“Hannah, don’t listen to him. Anything he’s up to is bad.” Mary reached out a hand, but took a few steps away from the bus. “Come with me.”
“Move away from the doors!” Mr. Charlie shouted. “The rest of the kids have to get off.”
Hannah froze. Her stomach knotted. She took two steps away from the door, then found herself sandwiched between Mary and Earl. Other kids exited, turned and walked in front of the bus, leaving the snow-covered lot while Earl’s boys gathered behind the bus. Twilight had faded. No streetlight lit the way. No stars shined overhead. Snow reflected a bit of light.
Hannah watched Mary walk away. Earl grabbed Hannah’s arm and pulled. She fought to stay upright as he yanked her along with him.
“We don’t like them Catholics. They worship idols. We’re gonna get them stinking Catholic girls.” Earl’s whisper was razor sharp.
A boy Hannah didn’t know shoved a snowball into her hand.
Earl glanced around the group. “Wait until Mr. Charlie pulls onto the street. Then, throw the snowballs at the targets.”
Hannah trembled. She wanted to run away, but if she did, the boys would throw snowballs at her, like they had before. It hurt when they struck her head, legs and face. The boys had packed the snowballs with rocks, but snow-covered rocks hadn’t hurt as much as when they threw just rocks at her.
December 7th. She would remember it always. There was no snow on the ground that day. The boys had pelted her with stones. They shouted “traitor” and “killer” and other things she hadn’t understood. When she made it home, bleeding from a sharp rock that hit her face, her mother took one look and cried. Shame washed over Hannah. What had she done wrong?
Later that same evening, Daddy took her aside. “Today is Pearl Harbor Day. In 1941, the Japanese bombed the harbor, which brought America into a war. Some people blame all Japanese. Even Japanese-Americans, like you.”
His sadness scared Hannah. She held back tears remembering her mother’s words about having to behave like a big girl.
“Later in the war, Americans dropped the atomic bomb on Japan. Mother had family who died… That was thirty years ago. The war has nothing to do with you. Mother loves you. I love you. We’re a family. The Bible teaches that God loves all of His children.”
As Mr. Charlie pulled the bus onto the street, Hannah remembered her mother’s tears and heaved the snowball across the lot away from everyone.
“No!” she shouted.
Startled, the boys looked at her. She turned to the girls from the Catholic school. “Run! Run for your lives! I’ll stop them as long as I can.”
“You dirty Jap,” Earl snarled at her. “Grandpa told me never to trust a dirty Jap. They’ll try to do hari-kari on you. I thought ‘cuz you were only half, you’d help get them Catholics.”
Hannah threw down her book bag. Faced the boys. She planted her feet as she’d seen Mary do. She held her arms out straight. No boy would run past her to hurt those girls. “Run!” she shouted again, then closed her eyes tight. Waited for snowballs to hit her.
And waited.
She squinted through one eye to peek at the boys. They were running away. Confused, she opened both eyes as the boys disappeared into the darkness.
“Hannah!”
Mother’s voice sounded scared. Hannah turned.
Mother ran toward her, arms extended like angel wings. She bent down, scooped Hannah up and held her close.
“Daijobu? Okay?” Mother asked as tears streaked down her face.
Hannah hugged Mother. Snuggled close. Warmth wrapped around her. Just like the child in the picture bible comforted by an angel with large white protecting wings, safety enveloped her.
“Yes, Mother. Daijobu desu. I’m okay…now.”
The End.
What choices will you make today?
Happy Reading,
Linda Joyce
www.linda-joyce.com
Bayou Born http://amzn.com/B00B9L1VAC
Bayou Bound http://amzn.com/B00I28U6OC
About Love…
Hey there!
I’m visiting with Betty Bolté today over at her place: Romance beyond the ordinary… where the past meets the paranormal!
I’m writing about love. In fact that’s the title of the guest blog post, About Love… (and yes, I gave mine the same title. 
I hope you’ll check it out. (click here) I found some interesting quotes and an Opening Lines book quiz. Test your memory and see how much you know. You may be surprised how much deductive reasoning will help you.
I also want to share about Betty’s book release. They’re always exciting and next month, April 28, is the debut of her newest novel Traces – Ghosts of Roseville #1
Traces – Ghosts of Roseville #1 by Betty Bolté
There’s no mistaking the cover as anyplace other than the south.
So, please join me at Betty’s blog today.
I’ll keep you posted about Betty’s release. Also, about her Facebook Launch Party with lots of authors and giveaways.
Happy Reading!
Linda Joyce
www.linda-joyce.com
March 17, 2014
Bayou Born is a RONE Award Nominee, Please Vote
Please feel free to share or repost this post.
A little sunshine has peeked through the thick clouds, bringing joy.
I’m excited that Bayou Born is a 2014 RONE Award nominee, however to make to the winner’s circle, I’m asking for your help.
Bayou Born by Linda Joyce
Bayou Born is nominated by InD’tale magazine for the award.
Voting is this week—Monday, March 17th – Sunday, March 23rd.
Please cast your eBallot at http://indtale.com/2014-rone-awards-week-two
If you’re not a registered subscriber of InD’tale, please send an email to vote to: anasmith@indtale.com
In the subject line: Voting for Bayou Born for RONE Award
In the body of the email: I’m casting a vote for Bayou Born by Linda Joyce in the Contemporary: General – 2013 category
Your support is greatly appreciated!
Happy Reading,
Linda Joyce
March 12, 2014
What’s the color of passion?
Writing is my passion.
It lights me up all pink and glowing.
As an author, words are my darlings and books are my babies. Bayou Bound is one that brings me great joy. It won 1st Place in Romance from the Southeastern Writers Association back when it was still in manuscript form.
Here’s what other authors have said about Bayou Bound:
A raging storm has nothing on the steamy and fierce passion of Nick and Biloxi. Linda Joyce is the new author to watch!
~ Kathy L Wheeler, author of The Color of Betrayal
As if the bayou needed more heat and steam! Step aside Shakespeare. Linda Joyce adds southern charm, and a much happier ending, to this modern day Romeo and Juliet.
~ Claire Croxton, author of Santorini Sunset
“Family feud turns up the heat between jet-setting photographer Biloxi Dutrey and family-oriented veterinarian Nick Trahan. Bayou Bound is a Keeper.”
~ Marilyn Baron, author of Under the Moon Gate
Where does passion take us? Where do we find information about dating, relationships, sex & toys, lifestyle, books, empowerment and health? Evolved World. They offered me a guest spot to share about Bayou Bound.
Below is the link for the site. Take a read. Learn about the love, heat, and family friction in Bayou Bound.
If you leave a comment here at my blog, you’ll be entered to win an eBook copy of Bayou Bound. The winner will be selected at the end of the month.
Biloxi Dutrey grounds her jet-setting photography career and returns to Mississippi when she learns her family home, Fleur De Lis, is headed for financial ruin. She plans to save it by scooping up the job of Keeper. But that means breaking tradition, and her family isn’t cooperating.
Veterinarian Nick Trahan is new in town and wants folks to stop matchmaking. He won’t settle for just a pretty face. He wants the perfect woman, one who believes in family and commitment—the exact opposite of his parents.
Nick rescues Biloxi during a raging storm, but the squall is tame compared to the tempest between them. Soon they experience the backlash from the long-standing feud between their families. If Biloxi surrenders her dreams for Fleur de Lis and toes the line with tradition, will she also be forced to give up on “forever love” due to the hate their families still harbor?
Evolved World http://evolvedworld.com/2014/03/linda-joyce-mardi-gras-excerpt-bayou-bound/
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
Remember– If you leave a comment here at my blog, you’ll be entered to win an eBook copy of Bayou Bound. The winner will be selected at the end of the month.
Happy Reading!
Linda Joyce
Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/LindaJoyceAu...
Twitter: @LJWriter
March 6, 2014
March!
If I say “March” does your mind go immediately to the calendar month when winter fades away and green of spring appears young and tender with the promise warmer weather?
Or does “March” conjure images of soldiers in formation, boots thudding against the parade ground in unison to the “Hup, two, three, four. Pick’em up, two, three, four.”
The month of March sort of snuck up on me, and I’m falling into formation and marching through the month March.
Here’s what’s going on
Bayou Born
1) Bayou Born is on sale (still, I’m told because Amazon can be stubborn.) and that’s a good thing for your wallet because it’s only 99¢. http://amzn.com/B00B9L1VAC
Hiram Books
5077 Jimmy Lee Smith Pkwy #109, Hiram, GA 30141
(770) 943-6800
2) Book Signing. March 8th at 1:00 pm Eastern, you’ll find me at Hiram Books. I’m signing with authors Melissa Klein and Marilyn Baron. We’re very excited to meet readers and we’ve put together an awesome gift basket, Spring is the theme, for one lucky person. I just received my first glimpse of the paperback of Bayou Bound! I’m so excited to share. Hiram Books: http://www.hirambookstore.com/ https://www.facebook.com/HiramBooks
3) Renee Regent, the writer of sexiness and fabulous blogger, is hosting me until March 10th. The questions she asked during her interview probed deep. And, there’s a GIVEAWAY, but in order to play, you must leave a comment. Not sure what to comment about? Consider letting me know what you learned about me from the interview that surprised you. http://reneeregent.com/2014/02/23/author-interview-linda-joyce/
4) Evolved World is hosting me RIGHT NOW! The website is THE place for information about Dating, Relationships, Sex & Toys, Lifestyle, Books, Empowerment, Health and a place to shop for those most intimate of items. I’m going to give lagniappe. What’s that? It’s all explained at the end of my post…but before you fast-forward to the end of the posting, check out the simmering heat between Biloxi and Nick in the excerpt provided. http://evolvedworld.com/2014/03/linda-joyce-mardi-gras-excerpt-bayou-bound/
5) Bayou Born be making a debut at the Fussy Librarian on March 10th. These are the requirements to make the cut:
In order to be considered, your ebook should have:
•10 reviews and a 4.0 rating on Amazon or Barnes and Noble, 11 to 19 reviews and a 4.0 rating, or 20 reviews and a 3.5 rating. If you have 10 reviews split between Amazon’s various stores — like US and UK — your book is eligible.
•A price of $5.99 or less.
•A quality cover.
I’m happy to report the 4.1-Star rating at Amazon with 30 reviews.
So check out the Fussy Librarian. http://www.thefussylibrarian.com/
6) March 19th, you’ll find me at Petit Fours and Hot Tamales. I’m working on that blog post now. Hope you’ll drop by. I’m going to offer a gift for a lucky person who leaves a comment. http://www.petitfoursandhottamales.com/
7) I will close out the month with a visit with author Betty Bolté: Romance beyond the ordinary… where the past meets the paranormal! I’m going to be sharing my own personal paranormal experience. You won’t want to miss it! AND, I’ll have a very special gift for one lucky person. Stop by and leave a comment. It could be your lucky day! http://www.bettybolte.com/blog.htm 
Bayou Bound
8) Bayou Bound is on sale for $3.99 until May 28th. I’m thrilled about all the wonderful 5-Star reviews! I hope it will be making a debut at the Fussy Librarian soon. http://amzn.com/B00I28U6OC
Mardi Gras Mask
Happy Reading!
Linda Joyce
February 25, 2014
Mystery Ink: A Novel Way To Die
Ever meet someone who’s the definition of smart and sweet?
When I lived in Kansas City, I met Lisa Daly at the Kansas City Writers Club. We worked together on the Kansas City Voice’s literary magazine. She is a unique storyteller.
Lisa Daly
I’m happy to introduce you to Lisa Daly.My dream of holding my first published novel in my hands with my name in print as the author recently came true. I’ve been writing short stories for several years, entering contests, winning some awards, but I’d never written a novel until two years ago. I loved the challenge of telling a story in a short space. My favorite was flash fiction meaning the story was extra short, sometimes less than 750 words, a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end. So writing a full length novel seemed a daunting challenge to say the least. True to form, my novel is not long. It’s 185 pages in print, a story that could be read in one or two days if no other duties called.
Many writers are asked whether they outline first or let the characters speak to them, following their voices to see where the story takes them. In my murder mystery novel, I had a combination of both. I wrote an outline, but realized by the fifth chapter that I had covered everything in the outline. Obviously I needed more. This is where I let the characters speak to me. It was fun to learn what would come out of their mouths when they argued with each other. I knew how I wanted it to end, but since I was writing a mystery I had to throw in some red herrings while making sure to include accurate details and interesting subplots that did not lead the story away from the main mystery. I’d read the importance of being fair with the reader. Nobody likes a new character brought in at the last minute who’s the killer. But it shouldn’t be so easy that the killer wears a neon sign that states, “I hated the victim and I’m not ashamed to admit I killed him.”
Mystery Ink: A Novel Way To Die
Today people are busier than ever. I wanted to write a book that couldn’t be put down easily. I placed cliff hangers at the end of each chapter whenever possible. A mother with three young boys who bought my book told me recently that my book was incredibly hard to put down. That is the kind of compliment I hope to receive with the next book I write and the next, and the next….Thank you for taking time to read about my process in writing my debut novel, Mystery Ink: A Novel Way To Die . It’s available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble online. My website is http://www.lisakaydaly.com.
As a coroner, Dr. Marv Henderson is more comfortable around corpses than with the living, especially his adult daughter, Mary, who refuses to speak to him. But when members of his book club are murdered the same way as characters in the mystery novel they’re reading, he unwittingly leads the killer to his daughter’s doorstep. And when a romance with a fellow book club member, the mysterious Lyla Baxter, finally seems possible, Dr. Marv fears she’s involved in the serial killing and is nothing more than a deadly distraction.
Here’s where you will find Lisa’s book:
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00I3LF22Y
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mystery-ink-lisa-daly/1118354208?ean=9781930584631
More about Lisa:
Lisa Daly is a licensed clinical social worker who spent sixteen years counseling families before focusing on a career in writing. Her story, “Road to Dreamland” was published in Kansas City Voices magazine in 2010. She won first place in the OWFI Contest for one of her short stories and second place in the WOW Women on Writing Contest for another story, that one being published online. This is her debut novel. She lives in Kansas City with her husband and their six year old daughter. You can find her on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter and her website: http://www.lisakaydaly.com
Happy Reading!
Linda Joyce
www.linda-joyce.com
February 20, 2014
Friday with Friends! An Author you’ll be dying to meet!
Friday with Friends.
Different kinds of things connect us.
For example, I have friends in different pockets of my life: writing, book lovers, social outings, music, neighbors, dog lovers, foodies, and like-minded spiritual people. Some of them know each other, but not all. Some of my writing friends are not dog lovers. They’re cat people. Or no-pet people. However, that doesn’t diminish the connection we share about writing, reading, and books.
Then there are the folks that I only know virtually. People on Twitter, Facebook, and some forums. The friend I want you to meet is an author. She’s Mississippi born, like me.
Janet Taylor-Perry
Please meet Janet PerryThe number thirteen must have had the utmost importance to our founding fathers. There were thirteen original colonies, and there are still thirteen stripes on our flag. The Great Seal of the United States is covered with the number thirteen. Some people say that is because so many of our founding fathers were Free Masons, and there are thirteen levels of Free Masonry. Very few achieve the thirteenth level of Grand Master, so that part could be true. They might have considered thirteen to be achieving the superlative.
Let’s look at the Great Seal to see how important thirteen is to it. Take it out dollar, and let’s look at the Great Seal on the back.
Let’s first examine the right side with the eagle on it. Let’s work from top to bottom. Count the stars above the eagle’s head. There are thirteen. Next, count the letters in E Pluribus Unum. Again, there are thirteen. Now, let’s examine the shield. If you can see well enough to count the horizontal stripes, there are thirteen. I know there are thirteen vertical stripes. Now, count the leaves on the olive branch and the arrows in each talon. There are thirteen leaves and thirteen arrows.
Now, let’s look at the other side. Annuit Coeptus contains thirteen letters. Last, there are thirteen levels of the pyramid, the thirteenth being the top or the eye. This leads back to the Free Masons as the pyramid and the eye as the superlative being their symbols and the laying of the foundation of our country. This also takes us back to the Egyptians and the first superstition about thirteen with the highest level being immortality. Where are the Great Pyramids found? Egypt.
Lucky Thirteen
What’s my book Lucky Thirteen about? Read on…Twelve women are dead, and a thirteenth is missing. Detective Ray Reynolds races time to catch a killer. Nothing ties the victims together, except the way in which they died. What Ray discovers blows him away as the battle takes on a supernatural element. There’s just one small catch — evidence points to Ray as the murderer.
From a small town in Mississippi, Larkin Sloan is a dynamic young teacher in the equally small town of Eau Bouease, Louisiana. Abducted, she foregoes common sense and rational behavior in order to stay alive and not become the thirteenth victim of a serial killer.
My second book, Heartless is in paperback and eBook.
Heartless
From the author of the critically acclaimed Pirates’ Alley Faulkner Wisdom semi-finalist, Lucky Thirteen, comes the second book in The Raiford Chronicles.
Police Chief Ray Reynolds did not think there could be a more brutal, heartless killer than Latrice Descartes whom he had encountered fourteen years earlier. His thirteenth wedding anniversary dinner is interrupted by one of his detectives to tell him an old married acquaintance, who also happens to be a United States Senator, has been found murdered in the presence of a much younger woman and that both are missing their hearts.
Ray becomes embroiled in another murder mystery that touches even closer to him than the one involving Latrice Descartes.
And Excerpt from Heartless:
Parker laughed. “Thank you, Larkin. Nobody has ever been this nice to me.”
“It has nothing to do with me, Parker. It has to do with my Savior.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You see, I’m just as sinful as the people who have hurt you. The only difference is that I’ve asked Jesus to live inside of me, in my spirit, and to forgive me for all the sinful things I ever have done or ever will do. When we ask Him for that, He’ll do it. Only then, can we do anything really good in and of itself.”
“I’ve been a pretty bad kid.”
Larkin took Parker’s hand. “That’s why Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life, died on the cross, and rose from the dead. If we trust in His work, then, we’re forgiven. That doesn’t mean we’re perfect.”
He nodded. “I like the sound of that. Does Ray believe that, too?”
“Yes.”
“He still gets mad pretty easily.”
“Yes.” She grinned. “Like I said, not perfect, just forgiven.”
More about me:
I’m native of Laurel, Mississippi, a graduate of the University of Southern Mississippi with a BS in psychology, Belhaven University with a Master of Arts in teaching, and gifted certification from Mississippi College, an author, editor, and educator in English, social studies, and gifted. I currently teach life skills in a variety of areas with Goodwill Industries of Mississippi.
Memberships include Kappa Delta Epsilon, Red Dog Writers, Gulf Coast Writers’ Association, The Mississippi Writers Guild, and TheNextBigWriter.com.
The first installment of The Raiford Chronicles, Lucky Thirteen, can be found on Amazon for both Kindle and in paperback, the second book in the series, Heartless, was released for both avenues on Valentine’s Day, 2014. I cannot claim to write a pure genre, and I do not write “Christian” literature, but I always have a strong Christian character and the message of salvation is found in every story I write.
Inspiration comes through life experiences. I’m the mother of five and an avid reader who loves anything historical from antique cars to old cemeteries. I’m on Facebook @ Author Janet Taylor-Perry and @ amazon.com/author/janettaylorperry.
Here’s where you can find my books:
Lucky Thirteen:
http://www.amazon.com/Lucky-Thirteen-...
Heartless:
http://www.amazon.com/Heartless-Raifo...
I hope you enjoyed meeting Janet. If you have any questions, please let her know.
Happy Reading!
Linda Joyce
www.linda-joyce.com
