Debra Jupe's Blog: Author Debra Jupe Happily Ever After Isn't Just for Fairytale Diva's, page 7

World Blog Tour

It’s an honor to have been invited to this World Blog Tour by Linda LaRoque. I met Linda at our local Heart of Texas RWA Chapter in 2009. She’s become a wonderful friend and most definitely a much-needed mentor for a newbie like me. Linda is a multi-published author who writes an array of genres; Time-Travel, Western, Historical Westerns, and she just completed her first Women’s Inspirational Fiction. Visit Linda at her blog at http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com

This blog tour answers four questions:

1. What am I working on?

I’m working on a romance/suspense novella, which is a part of a boxed set with a group of authors. This is my first “short”. I’m a little apprehensive about my pacing, but I’m enjoying the experience and hope to do other shorts later on. I’m also writing The Lobster Cover series my publisher, The Wild Rose Press is sponsoring. I’m not sure how long this book will be, I suppose I’ll know when I’m done. This is another a romance/suspense. And finally, I’m writing my forth full length romance/suspense novel; Hanging on an Instant. My hope is to have the three completed by the end of 2014. Then onto something new!

2. How does my work differ from others in the genre?

Hmmm. I try to make my characters normal people. I like to put them into situations a regular person wouldn’t usually encounter and let them find their way out—all with the main characters falling in love during the process. I also prefer my heroine just as kick-ass as the hero, or feisty enough to take care of herself through any death-defying circumstance that pops up. I’d rather the hero an average guy and for him turn into Superman when his lady is in trouble. I also want both flawed. In my opinion, that makes them more interesting to read.

3. Why do I write what I do?

To me, it’s all about the romance because I’m a romantic at heart. I want everyone to get a happily ever after. The suspense adds a little extra to the plot, and I like piecing together the puzzle to make the story gripping. It’s a great compliment when someone tells me they didn’t figure the “who done it” out till the end, though it doesn’t bother me if a reader catches on early. In the end, they get to be right!

4. How does my writing process work?

I’m a procrastinator with a plan. I do not outline or use any types of plotting methods. Sometimes an idea will stem from an experience, but most of the time stuff just pops in my head. Several of my stories have swum around years before I realized I needed to write them. Once I get started, then I let the characters guide me, and they tell the story. I see myself as a vessel that makes the characters and their story come alive.

Check out my current release Echoes in the Wind is available at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon.com, Barnes and Nobel and other online book stores. My newest book, Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight is waiting a release date.

I’ve selected two authors to tag. Both are amazing writers, and I’m fortunate to call them my friends too. I’m pleased to have Lorelei Buckley and Susan JP Owens join the World Blog Tour.

I met Lorelei at our local Heart of Texas RWA chapter three years ago. She was already established when she joined, penning several short stories and a paranormal suspense. Since, she’s published another paranormal suspense, Direct Strike and also participated in the Short and Twisted series with a group of authors. She is currently working on Channel Three, a paranormal

I also know Susan through our local Heart of Texas RWA chapter. She is a paranormal suspense writer too. Expect to find some steamy scenes in her books. Her current release, Walking into Her Heart now available in e-book and print. She has a short story due to release later in the year. Currently she is working on a full length manuscript, which will publish in the near future. She is also writing a short story and expects to have it completed by the end of August. Find her at www.susanjpowens.com

I’m going to let them tell you more. Check out Lorelei and Susan’s blogs.

Thanks for stopping by.

Debra

 

 

A little more of Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight

What a day. Discovering a dead person—especially a murdered one, wasn’t on Jack’s to do list—ever. The dead woman’s employees kept him from making a quick getaway, and the news media bombarded him when he finely did get to leave. Reporters shoved microphones in his face, peppering him with questions from every direction. He hadn’t intended on finishing his jog yelling “no comment” over his shoulder.

Nope. His entire weekend plans consisted of buying a lot of beer and drinking a lot of beer. With a case under each arm, he shouldered the door open, eager to get started.

Glad his stomach settled after the sight of way too much blood, he placed his purchases on the counter, and then strolled to the pantry. After he inserted two pastries into the toaster, he unloaded the boxes into the near-empty refrigerator.

Brunch was heating. He walked into the adjoined living area with his drink in hand, ready to get comfortable in the leather recliner. He folded his newspaper so the crossword faced outward and stretched across the coffee table for the remote. An anxious a rap came from the front. He stopped in mid-reach and whirled in the direction of the knock.

Who the hell would show up now? He squinted toward the entrance and frowned. Who’d visit him period?

A woman stood under the overhang. Although unable to make out her features, the dim light from the early afternoon sun revealed a thick, auburn mane.

He sensed her gaze on him. He tossed his hair off his forehead and lumbered to the entryway. Uneasy honey eyes peered inside, confirmed his suspicions. He wished whoever designed this place had used wood instead of the lead glass panes around the doorway. The exposure invaded his diminutive private space.

A faint snap of his toaster popped from the kitchen. The aroma of fruited pastry filled the room. He disregarded his meal and progressed in the direction of the woman. Spinning the knob, he opened the door, inviting a blast of cool air inside.

Delicate sunlight haloed her face. “Jack?” Her expression displayed astonishment.

He didn’t respond. His palm rested onto the entrance’s edge as he struggled to attain some recognition. She obviously knew him, though he had no idea who this lovely lady was.

She put a hand directly below her neck and double patted the top of her chest. “It me, Jack. Katherine Drapier. Aaron’s sister, remember?”

Jack took two steps back, clutching the jam to keep from losing his balance.

He was sure his mouth plunged to the ground as he gawked the tall, slender woman. She wore faded, but expensive looking jeans that tapered down her long legs. Wavy, chestnut hair flowed over her shoulders, shimmering from the sun’s muted glow. The only feature that resembled the girl he once knew was the golden gaze staring back at him.

  Release Date coming soon!

Another sneak peek from Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight

Here is the opening scene to my upcoming release, Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight. Let me know what you think!

Jackson Pharrell jogged down a mile long driveway, zigzagging amid hundred year old live oaks and elms while careful to dodge the fresh pansies landscapers had planted the day before. Normally, he didn’t care about flowers, but his host would be peeved if he smashed their new, expensive yard deco with his size twelve running shoe.

He continued to trek across the yard, rounded a bend, glancing at the tail ends of a shiny Bentley, Jag, and Lexis displayed in the opened three car garage. He mentally shook his head. These people didn’t know how lucky they were.

He sprinted to the end of the drive. Running in place, he pressed a button located on a squared, red-brick column located next to the drive’s exit. An automatic transmitter rumbled as a wrought iron gate shook, trundling open, leading out into a neighborhood full of gorgeous, older homes with gracious, manicured lawns, but only visible from behind steel rods.

Outside the gird, he picked up his pace, his head held erect. Leaves crunched under his shoes as the crisp fall air whipped across his face. Smoke flowed from a nearby chimney, melding in the breeze.

Jack did his best to relax, glad to get a run in before his day started.

Thoughts cleared, he concentrated on exhaling each time his right foot struck the sidewalk. He’d been skipping his regular workouts, although he still enjoyed a brisk jog every day. His mind emptied and his problems evaporated. Speed increased, his breathing deepened, perspiration flowed through his pores. He pushed his body harder, further.

Skirting the corner, he entered a less exclusive area. Nice homes, but smaller, without the privacy fences or gates guarding the entrances. He glided down the block, euphoric from the momentary freedom.

A furry, flash of gray darted in front of him. The toe of his shoe caught on a crack in the walkway. Jack briefly became airborne before he toppled flat onto his back into someone’s yard.

In what seemed like slow motion, he pushed to a sitting position, shaking his head with a groan. Once the fog cleared from his brain, he twisted around, and spotted a huge, gray cat. The feline sat hunched across the lawn and glared at him, its yellow eyes taunting. Jack swore it laughed at him.

Struggling to his feet, he slid his palms over his pants and jerked. His right hand stung. He turned it over. A small spurt of blood seeped below the base of his fingers. He gagged a bit and delicately brushed the gash against his sweats when something odd on the concrete caught his eye. Tiny drops of red dotted the sidewalk.

What the—he glanced at his nick. His wound wasn’t serious enough to drip this much blood. He knelt to examine the specks. Some of the spots were in the shape of a paw. His gaze lifted to the cat. It sat in the same place, now cleaning a crimson stained mitt. The animal was hurt. He straightened and took off across the grassy slope. The feline sensed him coming its way, darted through a fence, and scurried under a bunch of shrubs.

Damn. Jack’s only other recourse was to speak with the owner. He started for the front of the house when he detected more blood sprinkled over the walkway leading to the entrance. The door was left ajar. He slid to a standstill, his frame stiffened. His gaze traveled down as if drawn to the ground.Shivers prickled upon the back of his neck.

A bright pink slipper with a fuzzy ball on top rested between the door and structure. A foot was inside the shoe.

Careful not to touch anything, he crept nearer the shod foot for a closer look. His stomach coiled. A woman’s body, unnaturally twisted, blood covered her upper torso and face and had splattered over the small entryway. He stumbled backward, before catching himself before he fell. After he regained his balance, he advanced forward to check on her again. She lay motionless. Her eyes were open but lifeless. Her chest was still, no signs of breathing.

This woman was dead.

 

A Sneak preview of my newest release, Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight – RELEASE DATE COMING SOON

Jack and Katie’s story, Tomorrow Doesn’t Matter Tonight is in final edits. I decided to give a sneak preview of their upcoming adventure.

A little background on how I came up with the idea. The story stemmed from a personal experience and a concept I’d had in the back of my mind for many years. I put the two together and let the characters run. This was a fun book to write and I was entertained with the “darker” personalities that materialized as the story unfolded.

Drop me a note and let me know what you think of the excerpt. I’ll be revealing as the release gets closer.

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile.

 

Jack glanced at her. “Why did you bring the knife with you tonight? What’s your motive?”

Katie stopped in mid-bite. “I don’t have a motive. I’m confused how to handle this. I thought you might give me some advice.”

He shrugged. “Report the break in and turn it over to the police would seem the logical way to go.”

“Logical? I want to stay as far away from the police right now. They may somehow link this to Hazel’s murder. “

“Avoiding them doesn’t solve your problem. If you’re so nervous about talking with them, take counsel with you.”

She slammed her utensil onto the table and glared across at him. “Will you knock off the lawyer bit, legal boy? I got it. I’ll get an attorney, but right now I need some reassurance from you.”

Jack sat back in his chair and said through clenched teeth, “A little louder, please. The kitchen staff didn’t hear the last part.”

“Huh?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “You’re yelling really loud. The whole place is staring at us.”

Katie glanced around. She’d raised her voice too high, and the entire restaurant watched them. She smiled timidly and spoke to the crowd.

“Communication exercises. We’re in couple’s therapy.”

“Aaahhh’s” floated through the room and heads bobbed as the patrons returned to their meals.

Jack stabbed his meat. “Nice save.”

���Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.���

I don���t advertise what my ���real��� job is, due to the nature of the work, but I will reveal my occupation involves children.

One little boy wears me out on a continual basis. Eli. Eli���s a sweetheart, although he doesn���t play well with others. His problem is an eagerness to fit in. Though he tries, his efforts are rarely successful. My heart when the other children tell him they don���t want him in their groups. The end results is alienation and then he becomes angry and lashes out,-which reverts into time out.

I understand Eli���s plight. For many years, I also strived to fit into a certain mold. I learn to fake it to some degree and did my best to conform. Bet every one of us probably experienced similar situations, but so many are like me, who tried to remain mainstream, and failed.

I���m not mainstream. And that���s okay.

I���m the lady who creates stories in her head. I make up tales out of a simple drive to the grocery store. I once found the situation strange, but now I think it���s kind of cool. I produce an entirely different universe without leaving my sofa. Talk about a good time.

The great life shake ups come from traveling in the wrong direction, and to get us on track to where we���re supposed to go. To resist only makes the change more difficult. Let���s be truthful, we���re only here for so long, living life in limbo is certainly a waste.

We all possess gifts which make us unique and individual. I used to shun what made me distinct for fear of standing out, being laughed at, or misunderstood. I���m fine if everyone doesn���t get me. My acceptance of myself created an amazing transformation and I���m riding a wonderful ride. I���ve made many new friendships, those I���ll cherish always. For the first time, I don���t feel out of step with the rest of the world, even if I am.

How about you? Do you fit in?

 

“Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.”

I don’t advertise what my “real” job is, due to the nature of the work, but I will reveal my occupation involves children.

One little boy wears me out on a continual basis. Eli. Eli’s a sweetheart, although he doesn’t play well with others. His problem is an eagerness to fit in. Though he tries, his efforts are rarely successful. My heart when the other children tell him they don’t want him in their groups. The end results is alienation and then he becomes angry and lashes out,-which reverts into time out.

I understand Eli’s plight. For many years, I also strived to fit into a certain mold. I learn to fake it to some degree and did my best to conform. Bet every one of us probably experienced similar situations, but so many are like me, who tried to remain mainstream, and failed.

I’m not mainstream. And that’s okay.

I’m the lady who creates stories in her head. I make up tales out of a simple drive to the grocery store. I once found the situation strange, but now I think it’s kind of cool. I produce an entirely different universe without leaving my sofa. Talk about a good time.

The great life shake ups come from traveling in the wrong direction, and to get us on track to where we’re supposed to go. To resist only makes the change more difficult. Let’s be truthful, we’re only here for so long, living life in limbo is certainly a waste.

We all possess gifts which make us unique and individual. I used to shun what made me distinct for fear of standing out, being laughed at, or misunderstood. I’m fine if everyone doesn’t get me. My acceptance of myself created an amazing transformation and I’m riding a wonderful ride. I’ve made many new friendships, those I’ll cherish always. For the first time, I don’t feel out of step with the rest of the world, even if I am.

How about you? Do you fit in?

 

Can’t do this without my girls!

Can’t do this without my girls!.

Would he be proud of me today?

For some reason, my dad had weighed heavy on my mind lately. He had his issues, and growing up we butted heads regularly due to our similar personalities.

I’m missing him today.

Maybe because my daughter has just married, and I know he’d be proud of her and all of her accomplishments. Then that got me wondering, if he’d be proud of me too? My life hasn’t gone exactly in the traditional route, one that he’d approve.

A little back story of Leonard C. Jupe. He grew up in the Axtell, Texas area – a child of farmers. He later joined the Navy, after he returned, he married mom, had me, graduated Baylor University in accounting. I remember him as a hard worker, loved to garden, and he had a silly sense of humor – only he chuckled at his so called “funny” comments. Oh, well, my mother always laughed too.

I was also an only child. Growing up he played games with me, ran races, and my roller coaster riding partner. He treated me as a princess and expected everyone else to do so also which caused problems during the dating years, seeing as any boy who came to take me anywhere must come to the door for a five-minute heart to heart before allowed to leave with me. So embarrassing.

The hardest time for him I think, was giving me away in marriage. He flubbed the line “her mother and I” when the preacher asked who gives this woman, and after I moved with my husband, my mom later told me he stood at the doorway of my bedroom for a long time with tears in his eyes.

Years past, he enjoyed being with his grandchildren, but his health steadily declined and we suffered many scares. I remember the last time I visited with him, a Sunday, after a stint of being in intensive care for ten days. I no longer lived in the area and had made a trip to the hospital. He looked healthy and I thought his road to recovery would be successful. At the end of the visit, I kissed him on the cheek and told him I’d see him next week. He replied as his stare bore into me, “If I’m here.”

I recall my entire body stiffen as I tried to ignore his implication, putting it off as dad being dad. But he was telling me he’d be leaving, and sure enough, he didn’t live to the next Sunday.

A part of me was glad he hadn’t hung around to watch his only daughters’ life detonate. A life I hung onto, because I feared of disappointing my deceased father. Trying to keep my conventional lifestyle he’d been so delighted with, was like keeping lava in an erupting volcano. And the fallout was massive.

Somehow after all the chaos, and years of personal growth, I emerged into a better version of me. Oh there are still struggles, many I’ve yet to figure out, but I’ve done things he’d be pleased with. I finished raising my two kids, alone. I went to and graduated college later in life, and realized my dream in becoming an author, getting my first book published. My second will be coming out soon and I’ve completed a third, and am about to turn it into my editor.

Not the life he’d of envisioned for his baby girl, but I am happy, and hopefully he’s smiling down on me somewhere, satisfied that I’m content. I hope he’s proud of the woman I’ve grown into.

Until we meet again, Daddy, I’ll keep plugging away. After all, I am your daughter.[image error]

Has your life ever been turned upside down?

Has your life ever been turned upside down?.

I promise I won’t always be blogging about writing or my ...

I promise I won’t always be blogging about writing or my books, but because my publisher, The Wild Rose Press is pre-releasing my book this week on Amazon Kindle and this is my first book and all, it’s kind of the subject on my mind. So, I’m giving a sneak peek with hopes everyone will show a very nervous writer a little love and download on Wednesday, September 25th.

Here’s a snippet of Darla and Eric’s story. Let me know what you think!

Darla could not lose control here. She needed to say something and leave. But the strange pattern on the fabric of her rescuer’s shirt grabbed her attention. She tipped her head slightly and frowned. She
stared harder, blinking several times. What th… A loud gasp escaped as she slapped a palm over her mouth. This night kept getting better. She lowered her hand and gaped at the pink tinge sprayed across the Raging Impulse lead guitarist’s chest.

“That’s not good.” He wiggled a finger over the scattered glass, apparently unperturbed she’d ruined his
shirt. “What were you drinking? I’ll get you another.”

Darla stared, speechless. The inflections of his strong accent made him difficult to understand yet the
mere sound of his voice caused her heart to almost stop. It was rich, deep, laced with enough of a rasp to carry a trace of seductiveness. The kind of voice that could convince a woman to do practically anything.

“What were you drinking?” he asked again. A long moment passed. Those disturbing cobalt eyes continued to study her. “Are you okay?”

Darla gulped. She was fine except her mind experienced a complete meltdown. Her heart beat in
triple time, she couldn’t catch her breath, and she appeared to have lost the ability to speak. “Wine,” she blurted. “White Zinfandel.” Surprised she’d almost found her wits, she paused and made an
awkward gesture over the fresh stain on his shirt. “I don’t know what happened. Um, I got…you were there, it…” Her arm dropped, and she released a heavy sigh. “The glass slipped out of my hand.”

A slight curve formed across his lips as a wicked twinkle entered his eyes. “I noticed.”