D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 39
July 11, 2017
Five Things You Didn’t Know About Me #AwesomeAmazonAuthors #Giveaway
Last month, me and my awesome author buddies held a giveaway for a $25 Amazon Gift Card. We had so much fun that we decided ‘What the heck! Let’s do it again!’ To enter, you need only get onto Goodreads and follow each awesome author. AND get bonus entries by checking out each of our Goodreads Questions Page.
Enter here → Rafflecopter
Get your entries in between June 10-14.
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Not only do we have an awesome giveaway for you, but we’re letting you in on some secrets – Five Things (You didn’t know) About Five Authors for Five Days!
Five Things You Didn’t Know About Me
It’s hard to believe that there are still things my readers/followers don’t know about me considering how often I ‘confess’ my failings on my blog and social media. I’ve had to dig deep for these. Please keep your giggles to yourselves, folks.
I thought the annual eye test at elementary school was a test that I had to pass. I, therefore, memorized the entire eye chart. It wasn’t until second grade and a more than a few stitches before a teacher realized I couldn’t see sh$t.
Despite carrying a weapon every single day for five years while I was a military police officer in the Army, I’ve actually only ‘passed’ the range once – in basic training. Otherwise, I had ‘helpers’ who shot at my target.
I’ve broken the same little toe at least three times. Two of those times were in the exact same manner – because I apparently don’t learn from my mistakes. I was a lifeguard at the YMCA when I was working on my undergrad. We had a chair where we sat when adults were swimming lanes. I ran into that flipping chair and stubbed my toe so hard I broke it – twice!
I’m a social introvert. Yes, that really exists. People always assume – probably because I have a big mouth – that I’m a social butterfly. In reality, I’m cringing inside and wondering when it’s okay to pull out my kindle.
I once had a bout of dysentery so bad that it’s put me off tropical fruit forever. I have no idea if its psychological or not but whenever I try to eat pineapple or mango (or any other tropical fruit, all of which I freaking LOVE), my insides rebel in the most horrid of manners.
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Here are the links to the Authors Goodreads Questions Pages
Just in case you missed it the first time, here’s the Rafflecopter Link again: https://tinyurl.com/FollowFive
Good Luck!
Read an excerpt of The Mentor, a new #thriller #mystery from @LeeMatthewG
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Title: THE MENTOR
Author: Lee Matthew Goldberg
Publisher: Thomas Dunne Books / St. Martin’s Press
Pages: 336
Genre: Thriller / Suspense / Mystery
Synopsis
Kyle Broder has achieved his lifelong dream and is an editor at a major publishing house.
When Kyle is contacted by his favorite college professor, William Lansing, Kyle couldn’t be happier. Kyle has his mentor over for dinner to catch up and introduce him to his girlfriend, Jamie, and the three have a great time. When William mentions that he’s been writing a novel, Kyle is overjoyed. He would love to read the opus his mentor has toiled over.
Until the novel turns out to be not only horribly written, but the most depraved story Kyle has read.
After Kyle politely rejects the novel, William becomes obsessed, causing trouble between Kyle and Jamie, threatening Kyle’s career, and even his life. As Kyle delves into more of this psychopath’s work, it begins to resemble a cold case from his college town, when a girl went missing. William’s work is looking increasingly like a true crime confession.
Lee Matthew Goldberg’s The Mentor is a twisty, nail-biting thriller that explores how the love of words can lead to a deadly obsession with the fate of all those connected and hanging in the balance.
PRAISE FOR THE MENTOR:
From Booklist – A junior editor at a Manhattan publisher reunites with his college mentor with disastrous results in Goldberg’s second thriller (after Slow Down, 2015). Kyle Broder has just acquired a probable best-seller for Burke & Burke publishing when he hears from his former literature professor, William Lansing, who pitches the still-unfinished opus he’s been working on for 10 years. Lansing’s book is not only badly written, it’s also disturbing, featuring a narrator literally eating the heart of the woman he loves. Lansing turns vengeful when his “masterpiece” is rejected, but Broder’s concerns about his mentor are dismissed both at home and at work: Broder’s girlfriend considers Lansing charming, and a rival editor feigns interest in Lansing’s book. Broder revisits his college and delves more deeply into the cold case of a missing ex-girlfriend, and as the plot darkens and spirals downward, it’s unclear who will be left standing. The compelling plot is likely to carry readers with a high enough tolerance for gore to the final twist at the end.
Grab a copy Today!
Amazon
Excerpt
FROM FAR AWAY the trees at Bentley College appeared as if on fire, crowns of nuclear leaves dotting the skyline. Professor William Lansing knew it meant that fall had firmly arrived. Once October hit, the Connecticut campus became festooned with brilliant yellows, deep reds, and Sunkist orange nature. People traveled for miles to witness the foliage, rubbernecking up I-95 and flocking to nearby Devil’s Hopyard, a giant park where the students might perform Shakespeare, or enter its forest gates at nighttime to get high and wild. William had taken a meandering hike through its labyrinthine trails that morning before his seminar on Existential Ethics in Literature. It had been over a decade since he’d entered its tree-lined arms, but today, the very day he was reaching the part in his long-gestating novel that took place in Devil’s Hopyard, seemed like a fitting time to return.
His wife Laura hadn’t stirred when he left at dawn. He slipped out of bed and closed the mystery novel propped open on her snoring chest. He often wrote early in the mornings. Before the world awoke, he’d arm himself with a steaming coffee and a buzzing laptop, the wind from off the Connecticut River pinching his cheeks. His chirping backyard would become a den of inspiration, or he’d luxuriate in the silence of Bentley at six a.m. when the only sound might be a student or two trundling down the Green to sleep off a fueled night of debauchery.
He’d been at Bentley for over twenty years, tenured and always next in line to be department chair. He refused even the notion of the position for fear it might eat into time spent writing his opus. His colleagues understood this mad devotion. They too had their sights set on publications, most of them well regarded in journals, only a few of them renowned beyond Bentley’s walls like William dreamed to be. Notoriety had dazzled him since he was a child—a time when his world seemed small and lifeless and dreams of fame were his only escape.
His colleagues often questioned him about this elusive manuscript he’d been toiling on for years, but he found it best to remain tight-lipped, to entice mystery. It was how he ran his classroom as well, letting only a few chosen students get close, keeping the rest at enough of a distance to regard him as tough and impenetrable but fair. Maybe he’d made a few students cry when a paper they stayed up all night to finish received a failing grade, or when his slashes of red pen seemed to consume one of their essays on Sartre’s Nausea, which he found trite and pedestrian; but that only made them want to do better the next time. They understood that he wanted his kingdom to be based on fear, for creativity soared in times of distress.
William’s legs were sore after his hike that morning through Devil’s Hopyard. The terrain was hilly and its jagged trails would challenge even a younger man, but he kept fit, wearing his fifty-five year old frame well. He was an athlete back in school, a runner and a boxer who still kept a punching bag in the basement and ended his day with a brisk run through his town of Killingworth, a blue-collar suburban enclave surrounding Bentley’s college-on-a-hill. He had all his hair, which was more than he could say for most of his peers, even though silver streaks now cut through the brown. He secretly believed this made him more dashing than during his youth. Women twenty years younger still gave him a second glance, and he often found Laura taking his hand at department functions and squeezing it tight, as if to indicate that she fully claimed him and there’d be no chance for even the most innocent of flirtations. He had a closet full of blazers with elbow patches and never wore ties so he could keep his collar open and expose his chest hair, which hadn’t turned white yet. He had a handsome and regal face, well proportioned, and while his eyes drooped some due to a lifetime of battling insomnia, it gave him the well-worn look of being entirely too busy to sleep. People often spoke of him as a soul who never enjoyed being idle, someone who was always moving, expounding, and expanding.
“Hi, Professor Lansing,” said Nathaniel, a tall and gangly freshman, who after three weeks into the semester had yet to look William in the eye. Nathaniel’s legs twisted over one another with each step. William guessed that the boy had recently grown into his pole-like body and his brain now struggled with how to move it properly.
“Nathaniel,” William said, wiping the sweat mustache from his top lip. He could smell his own lemony perspiration from the intense jaunt through Devil’s Hopyard. “How did your paper on The Stranger turn out?”
Nathaniel’s eyes seemed to avoid him even more. They became intent on taking in the colorful foliage, as if it had sprouted overnight.
“Well…” the boy began, still a hair away from puberty, his voice hitting a high octave, “I’m not totally sure what you meant about Meursault meeting his end because he didn’t ‘play the game’.”
William responded with a throaty laugh and a shake of his head. He placed a palm on Nathaniel’s shoulder.
“Society’s game, Nathaniel, the dos and don’ts we all must ascribe to. How, even if we slip on occasion, we’re not supposed to admit what we did for fear of being condemned. Right?”
Nathaniel nodded, his rather large Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in agreement too. He stuffed a bitten-down nail between his chapped lips and chewed away like a rat, leaving William to wonder if the boy was on some new-fangled type of speed. He liked Nathaniel, who barely spoke in class, but once in a while would give a nervous peep filled with promise. The students he paid the most attention to weren’t the heads of the lacrosse team or the stars of the theater productions, those students would have a million other mentors fawning over them. He looked for the hidden jewels, the ones who were waiting for that extra push, who’d been passed over their whole lives but would someday excel past their peers. Then they would thank him wholeheartedly for igniting a spark.
“Is that why Camus didn’t personalize the victim that Meursault killed?” Nathaniel asked, wary at first, as the two entered the doors of Fanning Hall past a swirl of other students. “So we sympathize with him despite his crime?”
William stopped in front of his classroom, its cloudy window offering a haze of students settling into their desks. He stood blocking the door so Nathaniel had no choice but to look in his eyes.
“Did you sympathize with him?”
“Yes…umm, it’s hard to penalize someone for one mistake,” Nathaniel said. “I know he shot the Arab guy, but…I don’t know, sometimes things just happen. I guess that makes me callous.”
“Or human.”
William stared at Nathaniel for an uncomfortable extra few seconds before Kelsey, a pretty sorority girl with canary yellow hair, fluttered past them.
“Hey, Professor,” Kelsey said, without looking Nathaniel’s way. William could feel the boy’s sigh crowding the hallway.
“Come, Nathaniel, we’ll continue this debate in class.”
William led the boy into the room. The students immediately became hushed and rigid as he entered.
Nathaniel slumped into a chair in the back while Kelsey cut off another girl to get a prime seat up front.
William placed his leather satchel on the table, took out a red marker, and scribbled on the board, I didn’t know what a sin was. The handwriting looked like chicken scratch and the students had to squint a bit to decipher it; but eventually the entire class of twenty managed to correctly jot down the quote. They had gotten used to his idiosyncrasies.
“At the end of the novel, Meursault ponders that he didn’t know what a sin was,” William said. “What does that mean?”
A quarter of the class raised their hands, each one eager to be noticed. Kelsey clicked her tongue for attention, as if her desperation wasn’t obvious enough. She looked like she had to pee. In the back, Nathaniel was fully absorbed in a doodle that resembled Piglet from Winnie the Pooh.
“Nathaniel,” William barked, sending the pen flying out of the boy’s hand. Nathaniel weaved his long arms around the desk to pick up the pen and then gave a slack-jawed expression as a response.
“Why does Meursault insist to the chaplain that he didn’t know what a sin was?” William continued.
Nathaniel silently pleaded for William to call on someone else. He let out an “uuuhhhhhhh” that lasted through endless awkward seconds.
Kelsey took it upon herself to chime in.
“Professor, while Meursault understands he’s been found guilty for his crime, he doesn’t truly see that what he did was wrong.”
William turned toward Kelsey to admonish her for speaking without being called on, a nasty habit that happened more and more with this ADD-addled generation than the prior one, but a red-leaf tree outside the window captured his attention instead, its color so unreal, so absorbing. The red so vibrant like its leaves had been painted with blood.
“Professor…professor.”
The sound came from far away, as if hidden under the earth, screaming to be acknowledged.
“Professor Lansing?”
Kelsey waved her arm in his direction, grounding him. She gave a pout.
“Like, am I right, or what, Professor? He doesn’t truly see that what he did was wrong.”
William cleared his throat, maintaining control over the room. He smiled at them the same way he would for a photograph.
“Yes, that’s true, Kelsey. Expressing remorse would constitute his actions as wrong. He knows his views make him a stranger to society, and he is content with this judgment. He accepts death and looks forward to it with peace. The crowds will cheer hatefully at his beheading, but they will be cheering. This is what captivates the readers almost seventy years after the book’s publication. What keeps it and Camus eternal, immortal.”
Kelsey beamed at the class, her grin smug as ever.
William went to the board, erased the quote, and replaced it with the word IMMORTAL in big block letters, this time written with the utmost perfect penmanship.
About the Author
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Lee Matthew Goldberg’s novel THE MENTOR is forthcoming from Thomas Dunne Books/St. Martin’s Press in June 2017 and has been acquired by Macmillan Entertainment. The French edition will be published by Editions Hugo. His debut novel SLOW DOWN is out now. His pilot JOIN US was a finalist in Script Pipeline’s TV Writing Competition. After graduating with an MFA from the New School, his fiction has also appeared in The Montreal Review, The Adirondack Review, Essays & Fictions, The New Plains Review, Verdad Magazine, BlazeVOX, and others. He is the co-curator of The Guerrilla Lit Reading Series. He lives in New York City.
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July 10, 2017
Five things you didn’t know about me. And a #giveaway!
We’re sponsoring another awesome Amazon giveaway! Learn Five Things about Five Authors for Five Days and Follow the Five Authors on Goodreads for a chance to win! Plus get bonus entries by checking out each of our Goodreads Questions Page.
Source: Five things you didn’t know about me. And a #giveaway!
July 9, 2017
Owning a B&B ~ Strangest One Star Reviews #MondayBlogs #Travel #Humor
[image error]I discussed (okay, I ranted and raved about) one-star reviews of my books a few blog posts ago. Basically, I concluded there wasn’t a damn thing you can do about them. Which does not make me a happy camper. Several friends asked why I let the reviews bother me. They were complete b.s. after all. Just let it go. Yeah, ‘cuz that’s the kind of person I am. Just letting shit roll off my back. But yesterday I was having lunch with a friend of mine and regaling (yes, regaling!) her with funny stories of reviews of my B&B. She asked if I let those reviews bother me, and I had a light bulb moment. I could not care less about those reviews now – a few years on. Maybe that’s all I need to ‘get over’ those lousy, inaccurate, bullying reviews – time.
So, while I wait for the years to pass and my blood to calm down over those reviews, I thought I’d share some of those somewhat unbelievable reviews of my B&B.
[image error]Couldn’t figure out how to use the shower. In one of the bathrooms of the B&B, I had installed a spa shower complete back massagers and seat. It was heaven. I used it whenever we didn’t have guests. Anyway, it was a bit confusing to figure out for some folks. Me? I just push and pull dials until I figure things out. I’d learned that not everyone was the same. How did I learn this? A guest came down to reception in a towel and asked me how to work the shower. After I nearly peed my pants with my efforts not to laugh at him, I showed him and his wife how it worked. After that, I made sure to show all guests how the shower worked when they arrived. Of course, this particular guest didn’t need my assistance. He refused to allow me to demonstrate how to use the shower and then wrote a nasty review because he couldn’t figure it out! Yes, seriously.
[image error]GPS took us to the wrong location. Because my B&B was a small family-run operation, I had limited check-in times – from 6 p.m. until 10 p.m. (or something like that, I’ve tried to wipe the entire time from my memory). Naturally, this guest booked via booking.com at 11 p.m. and wrote in the notes – late check-in. No shit! Good thing I was still awake. I waited and waited. They finally showed after 1 a.m. cussing up a storm because their GPS lead them to a farmhouse down the road from the B&B. (Because having a GPS means you don’t have to use common sense or know how to read a map.) Naturally, this was cause to give me a bad review. Never mind that I’d stayed up to check you in.
Not enough lights in the parking lot to fix my car. So, these hippies show up with a car registered in France. My French is crap, but I struggle on doing the check-in in French. Then, it turns out the sliding door on his van is stuck. By now it’s after 10 p.m. and I’m ready for bed. I offered to have the mechanic from my garage come in the morning before breakfast but, no, he was going to fix the car himself. Naturally, he didn’t have any tools. So, I spent an hour rushing up and down the stairs getting tools for him, taking several extra trips because I have no clue what most tools are called in French. Around 11:30, he gives up and says he’ll deal with it at home – in Holland. WTF? You’re Dutch? I not only speak Dutch but I speak construction in Dutch. I was majorly annoyed and my annoyance only worsened when the guy gave me a bad review because there were not enough lights in the parking lot to properly fix a car. Seriously?!?!?!
Although I still get a bit annoyed when I write these stories, I mostly just laugh. Because they’re ridiculous! Now, to apply this perspective to those annoying reviews that claim my ‘clean’ read is ‘smut on parade’.
Keep writing, peeps!
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Book Spotlight on New Sins For Old Scores a #paranormalmystery from Tj O’CONNOR #Giveaway
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Title: New Sins for Old Scores
Author: TJ O’Conner
Genre: Paranormal Mystery
Pages: 370
Published: May 27, 2017
~ Synopsis ~
Murder, like history, often repeats itself. And, when it does, it’s the worst kind of murder.
Detective Richard Jax was never good at history—but, after years as a cop, he is about to get the lesson of his life. Ambushed and dying on a stakeout, he’s saved by Captain Patrick “Trick” McCall—the ghost of a World War II OSS agent. Trick has been waiting since 1944 for a chance to solve his own murder. Soon Jax is a suspect in a string of murders—murders linked to smuggling refugees out of the Middle East—a plot similar to the World War II OSS operation that brought scientists out of war-torn Europe. With the aid of a beautiful and intelligent historian, Dr. Alex Vouros, Jax and Trick unravel a seventy-year-old plot that began with Trick’s murder in 1944. Could the World War II mastermind, code named Harriet, be alive and up to old games? Is history repeating itself?
Together, Jax and Trick hunt for the link between their pasts—confronted by some of Washington’s elite and one provocative, alluring French Underground agent, Abrielle Chanoux. Somewhere in Trick’s memories is a traitor. That traitor killed him. That traitor is killing again. Who framed Jax and who wants Trick’s secret to remain secret? The answer may be, who doesn’t?
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Add to Goodreads → Here
~ About the Author ~
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Tj O’CONNOR IS THE GOLD MEDAL WINNER OF THE 2015 INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS BOOK AWARDS (IPPY) FOR MYSTERIES. He is the author of New Sins for Old Scores, from Black Opal Books, and Dying to Know, Dying for the Past, and Dying to Tell. His new thriller, The Consultant, will be out in May 2018 from Oceanview Publishing. Tj is an international security consultant specializing in anti-terrorism, investigations, and threat analysis—life experiences that drive his novels. With his former life as a government agent and years as a consultant, he has lived and worked around the world in places like Greece, Turkey, Italy, Germany, the United Kingdom, and throughout the Americas—among others. He was raised in New York’s Hudson Valley and lives with his wife and Lab companions in Virginia where they raised five children. Dying to Know is also the 2015 Bronze Medal winner of the Reader’s Favorite Book Review Awards, a finalist for the Silver Falchion Best Books of 2014, and a finalist for the Foreword Review’s 2014 INDIEFAB Book of the Year Award.
Learn about Tj’s world at:
Web Site Facebook Blog Goodreads
~ Giveaway ~
Win a kindle loaded with Tj’s books!
July 6, 2017
Spotlight on Vested in Her, #MCRomance from @BrickleyJules
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Title: Vested In Her
Series: Chrome Thunder MC, all books within the series can be read as standalones
Author: Brickley Jules
Genre: MC Romance
Published: April 26, 2017
Synopsis
Small town biker princess Haven Mercedes Johnson wants to live a normal life, but she’s relentlessly protected by her father and his crazy right-hand man who will do anything to keep her under his thumb. With the help of an ex, Haven escapes the confines of the club, and after one last wild night, she eagerly sets off to start a new life. After being on the run for days, she’s taken under the wing of a kind woman named Ruby, and with her help, Haven disappears.
Riker Davis will do anything to earn a vest and become a member in Chrome Thunder, a prestigious motorcycle club. His chances are bleak until Haven, the club leader’s daughter, runs away. As a prospect, Riker is tasked to finding her, and he agrees, determined to do anything to earn a vest, including finding a woman who doesn’t want to be brought home.
Haven thinks she’s in the clear until Riker walks into the diner where she works, and her old life boomerangs back at her. Now she must choose, go back to her old life and give Riker what he wants, a vest in her father’s club, or give him up and keep the life she’s always dreamed of.
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Amazon ebook ~ Amazon UK ~ Amazon AU ~ Amazon Ca ~ Smashwords ~ Nook ~ Kobo ~ iBooks
Excerpt
Riker rolled off Haven, panting. “That’s three.”
She agreed through ragged breaths, “It most certainly was.” Haven rested her arms on his shoulders. “I have this naughty little voice in my head that’s telling me to say something that would be a spankable offense, but I think it’s writing checks my body can’t cash. At least not ‘til after I sleep for a little bit.”
“I would be more than glad to spank you in the morning. Tell it to hush ‘til then.”
About the Author
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Brickley Jules has been away from reading and writing for many years and has recently been given the spark, igniting her love of both again by her family.
She started reading R.L. Stine type books as a child. Followed later by Anne Rice Books in high school. She also fell in love with writing poetry during her high school years. But Brickley lost time for her beloved reading and writing after she started college. During a change in majors and schools she met her husband and his family, who are the ones who recently rekindled her love of reading and encouraged her to start writing again.
Brickley has two beautiful daughters that occupy most of her time. She is a stay at home mom but would one day like to combine her college major, which is Photography, with her love of writing. She can be found on most social media platforms and tries to keep them fresh, when the kids let her.
She has written several books since her writing journey restarted in 2015. Her first writing project, Out of the Blue, a paranormal romance, is getting a final read through by her trusted friend. Brickley’s 2015 NANOWRIMO project, Her Unexpected Life, a chick lit romance, is available for purchase at most retailers in both print and ebook formats. Book two of this series of stand-alones is ready for editing along with her 2016 NANOWRIMO project. She just released book one in another stand-alone series, a biker MC romance called Vested In Her.
It’s available in ebook format with print coming soon. Brickley is currently busy typing away on book two in this series.
Brickley and her husband have two beautiful daughters that occupy most of their time. She was a stay at home mom but has recently found herself working a part-time day job. One day she would like to combine her college major, which is Photography, with her love of writing. She can be found on most social media platforms and tries to keep them fresh, when the kids let her.
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Goodreads ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Instagram ~ Blog ~ Facebook Fan Page
July 5, 2017
Spotlight on Sketches of My Soul #YA #Contemporary from TC Booth (@BoothTammi)
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Book title: Sketches of My Soul
Author: TC Booth
Genre: YA Contemporary
Published: June 20, 2017
Synopsis
In the game of life, I was used to being on the losing team. The odds were stacked against me. Tegan’s Team—a mom who tried to control me, a dad who would rather drink then spend time being a father, a lying ex-boyfriend, and fake friends. Like any team however, you have that one shining star that stood out above the rest. For me that star was Emily, my best friend. I guess life had pity on me the day it gave me a friend that always had my back. Life must have felt extra giving the day it gave me a cheer leader—Mrs. White, my next-door neighbor. She’d been more of a parent to me growing up then my own parents. And then there was Andrew. He was my shooting star. One that I never saw coming. One that I hoped became mine over the summer of my senior year. A glimpse into a crystal ball couldn’t have prepared me for that summer, though. The summer where a letter from my mom rocked me to the core. I felt the world shake with every word I read in that letter. By the time I reached the end, my world split wide open swallowing me whole.
Grab a copy!
Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Kobo
Excerpt
Thanks to the humid air, my hair looked like a frizzy mess, so I swept it up into a high ponytail and fastened it. Just about to head out the front door to wait for Emily on the porch swing, I heard Dad stumble into the kitchen from the garage.
With a deep breath, I spun around and strolled into the kitchen. Dad took a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and poured the amber liquid into a glass, spilling some on the counter. His body swayed as he turned and sloshed whiskey onto the floor. It took him a minute to realize that I stood in the doorway watching him. His glazed eyes caught mine. He slurred, “Hi, baby girl.”
“Hi, Dad. I’m going out with Emily. She’ll be here in a minute.” I held my voice steady even though I wanted to shout and yell that he’d left me alone on my birthday to get drunk. But what would be the point? It wouldn’t change anything.
“Emmmily. Tell her to come in. I haven’t seen her in a while.” He staggered toward me.
“We’re in a hurry. She can’t come in this time. Why don’t you sit down and watch TV? There are lots of war movies on.” I grasped his arm and steered him toward the living room.
“Warrr movies …” He fell onto the couch. I steadied the drink in his hand so it didn’t spill everywhere. Experience had taught me not to try to take it from him—much easier to get him to go along with what I say if I just let him have it. I flipped the TV channel to an old war movie and headed back to the kitchen. After I’d hidden all the keys, and cleaned up the spilled whiskey, I checked on him one more time. His head hung forward with his eyes shut. Carefully, I nudged his head back against a throw pillow. His grip tightened on the glass when I tried to take it from him, so I just left it. Headlights shone in the front window when Emily turned into my driveway. Through blurred eyes, I kissed his forehead, and then walked out the door.
About the Author
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TC Booth was born and raised in a small Ohio town where she currently lives with her husband, children, and fur covered baby Sammy. She is an award-winning author who loves to read and write young adult fiction. Besides her book addiction, TC enjoys music, attending Cavs games, going to the beach, eating chocolate and spending time with her family.
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My evolution from bullied nerd to flyer of history geek flag #AmWriting #History #HistoricalRomance
[image error]When I was a student a long, long time ago, being into history was not cool. Not at all. Being called a history nerd was an insult. No one called themselves a nerd on purpose. Revenge of the Nerds, which hit cinemas in 1984, may have sounded like a big ‘ol lovefest for nerds, but it wasn’t. Not really. Did you seriously see the clothes those ‘nerds’ wore and how ugly they made those poor actors look? Not feeling the love for nerds.
[image error]Notice I’m using the word nerd and not geek? That’s right. A long, long time ago (okay, I’ll stop shoving my age down your throats), geek was not a word used to define a person’s personality or generalized skill set. Nope. The 1975 edition of the American Heritage Dictionary defined a geek as: “…a carnival performer whose act usually consists of biting the head off a live chicken or snake…” in its 1975 edition.
The definition of geek has changed considerably over time. Although carnival performers are still included in the definition, the definition is generally considered as a source of pride for a person interested in a subject (mostly intellectual or complex in nature) for its own sake. Urban dictionary even has a definition for history geek (although how a history geek could fail grammar use that spectacularly is beyond me).
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Thus, over the years, it’s become ‘cool’ to call yourself a geek or, in my case, a history geek. Since yesterday was a historical day (American Independence Day), I thought I’d make a case for my history geekdom. First and foremost, my undergraduate degree is actually in history. Contrary to popular practice, I didn’t study history because it was ‘easy’. Nope, I totally got into it, even if studying Hitler and Stalin caused me to have nightmares.
And what could be more history geek-like than taking a trip to a historical destination for an important event? I’ve got tons of examples of that! I went to Colonial Williamsburg for my honeymoon. Beat that you amateur history geeks! I’ve also spent numerous birthdays and wedding anniversaries visiting battlefields and historical museums. When I mentioned (all excited), I was spending my 40th birthday visit the Somme battlefields, friends looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Someone even had the gall to ask if I knew that Paris was just as close? (Paris might not have been just as close, but it was definitely more accessible than the battlefields.)
Even when we do head off on ‘normal’ vacations, we always take time out to visit military cemeteries, architectural excavation sites, battlegrounds …. Well, the list goes on and on. From the bridge on the River Kwai to an ancient Vietnamese city where a battle was fought during the Vietnam War (not fun to visit with dysentery) to an American military cemetery outside Tunis. You get the picture.
So, decades after being bullied for being a (history) nerd in school, I can now proudly fly my geek fly. This one’s stamped ‘history’, but there are other geek flags in my closet.
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