A room of one’s own, with extras by Jinny Alexander – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jinny Alexander will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A room of one’s own, with extras

In my daydreams I write in a tidy, warm, quiet room, on a cliff-top, overlooking the sea. On bad-weather days, the windows are shut tight and the raging volume of lashing water – rain or sea – can’t get in. On calm days, or gentle-breeze days, the windows are flung wide open, and I sit industriously at an intricately-carved, cast-iron table, tapping away at an old-fashioned typewriter…

If I spent less time daydreaming and more time writing, maybe this would become my reality. Reality is a small, converted bedroom, painted a warm egg-yolk yellow, filled with my day-job paraphernalia – cuddly toys, flashcards, puppets, files and papers, pens and diaries. I’m an online ESL teacher when I’m not a writer. Much of this ESL clutter spills over into ‘things I use for writing’. You can never have enough pens and notebooks, right? The view from my window is not over the sea, although I can’t complain. I live in the country and am surrounded by mature trees and rolling fields.

From my window, I get to watch the ever-changing seasons, although, to be honest, I would see them better if I got up and cleaned the glass – another thing for the Procrastination from Writing List. Today is sunny, and windy and the view from the window is all about the orange glow of autumn and dancing shadows as the trees rustle in the wind. Unfortunately, my windows are old, and draughty, so inside the room, things also rustle in the wind. Mainly the screwed-up papers of novel ideas and plans I wrote and then changed as soon as I began to transfer them to the laptop, or the heap of discarded tissues in the bin; proof that at this time of year (autumn through to spring) the coldness of this old house will seep into my bones and leak out again in sniffs and sneezes.

Also in this room is a laundry airer, usually full of wet washing, and artfully placed to be out of webcam view. I prefer not to air my clean washing in public – my dirty washing, of course, is the stuff my books are made from! My webcam focuses on the bookshelves behind me, with its carefully selected writerly books, books I’ve written, and educational books for teaching. Not like the teetering stack of mixed novels beside by bed, which includes anything from chicklit to psychological thriller to the latest 2022 debut to research to mystery and back again. When one of my online students told me he thinks I live in a library, my heart swelled and the backache I get from sitting slightly askew to ensure ‘best background view with no dripping socks or knickers’ was instantly worth it.

Add to this yellow-walled room at least one dog; maybe two. Sometimes a cat, sometimes two. Sometimes all four animals at the same time, fighting over the chair, scratching at the door to come in, or to go out. Add also, a large and hairy spider who has lived in the sash of the window for so long I miss him when he doesn’t come out, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that my room is most certainly not my own.

You’d be mistaken. This, for now, is a room of my own, in which I will write the next novel, and the next, and the next. The cats and dogs remind me I must get up and leave it from time to time, but, for the time being, it is the room where I will work and write and stare out the window daydreaming for as long as it takes to get that other room; the one on the clifftop with the sea raging below.

Ballyfortnum Get Slim group–putting the die in diet.

In the close-knit Irish Village of Ballyfortnum, getting slim might just get you dead. Mystery-lover Jess O’Malley is distraught when her elderly friend dies, but that’s not all–he’s the third of the local slimming group to die this year and it’s only February. Is something amiss in the Get Slim group?

Jess, aided by her sidekick Fletcher, her boisterous Labrador, must convince local policeman Marcus that there may be a murderer at large in the village. If she doesn’t solve the mystery, will another of the dieters end up dead? Or worse–if she doesn’t stop asking awkward questions, will Jess become the next victim?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Jess shuddered, remembering how, on the Wednesday of that week, she had bumped into Breda in the refrigerator aisle of one of the supermarkets in Lambskillen. They chatted for a while in front of the fish section, each clasping a warming bag of prawns while discussing the merits of various shellfish. Breda had never had mussels before, she’d said, peering dubiously into the fridge.

“Nor any shellfish, sure I haven’t,” she’d told Jess, brimming over with the enthusiasm of one discovering new tastes. She gestured back towards the fridge. “Nor octopus … sounds suckery—however would you cook it?”

There was a whole section of seafood recipes in the newest Get Slim magazine that she was going to try out, Breda said, managing to sound both wary and excited. Adding a jar of tartare sauce to her basket, Breda moved on.

Jess returned her own lukewarm bag of prawns to the fridge, and selected instead a bag of battered onion rings from the freezer below, tossed them into her trolley, and wheeled off into the wine aisle. She waved at Breda across the car park as they loaded their shopping into their respective car boots.

Three days later, as she’d considered the news Mrs Dunne had shared, wondered if Angela had been trying out the same recipe. Food poisoning, Mrs Dunne had reckoned. Dodgy prawns? Jess shudder as she relived the moment she’d decided to choose unhealthy—but delicious—battered onion rings instead of the nakedness of wrinkled prawns, put off by the thought of accidentally purchasing something healthy that Kate might construe as a sign to try to persuade Jess to join Get Slim.

About the Author:Jinny was first published in Horse and Pony magazine at the age of ten. She’s striving to achieve equal accolade now she’s (allegedly) a grown up. Jinny has had some publishing success with short story and flash competitions and secured a publishing deal in December 2020 for her first three novels. The first of these, Dear Isobel, was released in March 2022. A Diet of Death is Jinny’s second novel and the first in her Cosy Mystery series. Jinny is currently studying an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Hull, UK.

Jinny also teaches English as a foreign language to people all over the world. Her home for now is in rural Ireland, which she shares with her husband and far too many animals. Her two children have grown and flown, but return across the Irish Sea when they can. She quite likes to shut the door on them all and write.

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What Scares Me the Most as an Author by Cherie Colyer – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Cherie Colyer will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What Scares Me the Most as an Author

As an author, what scares me the most is that no one will find my books. That I’ve spent hours writing and revising, pouring my heart and soul into bringing the characters alive, that I found a wonderful publisher and have an amazing editor, but when the book is released, readers simply don’t know it exists. It’s very similar to that fear of throwing a party and no one comes. You know the one where you’re home, streamers huge, food prepared, drinks chilled, party hat on, and it’s just you.

This is a very real fear. There are a lot of books out there. Authors need to have faith that ours will be seen. We depend on the reading community to spread the word about our books. So I’d like to give a huge shout out to all the wonderful book bloggers, bookstagrammers, YouTubers, TikTok-booktoks, and so on. You’re amazing. Thank you for sharing your book recommendations!! I’d also like to thank every reader who has ever left a review or talked about a book. You rock!!

There is also the trepidation of the first reviews. (I bet you’re seeing a trend here.) I know not every reader is going to love my books. It’s a form of art, and stories are very subjective. But it is nice to know my book babies reached the right audience. I’m always delighted when a reader enjoys my book. I hope you do too!

It has been a pleasure to be on Long and Short Review. Thanks for having me!

Happy reading!

Twelve-year-old Zach is convinced he’ll never be happy without his best friend Jeremy by his side. But both of their lives changed with a bang five months ago, and as far as Zach’s concerned, it’s his fault Jeremy will never see his twelfth birthday.

When Zach moves with his family to a Chicago suburb, he quickly becomes friends with a group of thrill-seeking kids trying to find a disappearing haunted house. But Zach’s not worried. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, so he follows them into a wild, dangerous encounter that becomes a battle to decide what’s real and what’s not.

Enjoy an Excerpt

My bewildered gaze slithered from Dom to Josh, finally coming to a stop on Morgan as I tried to decide if they were crazy.

“If the house is invisible, how do you expect to find it?” I asked.

Morgan sat on the stoop next to me. “It’s not always invisible. My brothers saw it once. They said it’s a big house with a long porch. It vanished before they could set foot on the first step, and I’m glad, too.”

“Why? What would have happened if they were on the steps?” I asked. Not because I believed an old ghost story had any truth to it, but I was curious to know what she’d say.

Morgan had to pick her jaw up from the walkway before she could answer, and when she did her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. “If they had been on the porch or worse—” she swallowed loudly “—inside, they would have disappeared with it.”

About the Author C.L. Colyer found her love for writing in first grade when her class was sent to the library and asked to find a book for their first book report. While she doesn’t still have this book report, she’s very proud to say she got an A on it. Her favorite thing about the book was that it had no words. That’s right, not one! That gave her the freedom to interpret the pictures in any way she wanted and write her own story.

This sparked her love for writing essays. It wasn’t until she was an adult that she sat down and penned her first novel. This story has a special place in her heart because it’s the story that helped her discover her passion for writing. She has since written several books, many of which may never see the light of day, but all of which helped her learn to combine her passion for writing with her fascination with all things mythical. You’ll find examples of this in her novels.

She lives in Illinois with her family.

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Finding Frances by Kelly Vincent – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kelly Vincent will be awarding a $40 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Retta Brooks thinks her life is on track after convincing her overprotective mom to stop home-schooling her and allow her go to Buckley High. She comes home from a night out with friends to find that her whole world has changed, and she has extremely hard decisions to make. Not to mention finding the answers to questions some people would rather she not know. Is she strong enough for what lies ahead?

Enjoy an Excerpt

I Googled everything I knew about the crash. I had the rough date, so I searched for news records of wrecks then. But there were tons, and the old newspaper records required payment. I found a few sites that would let me search accident reports by state, which made me realize I didn’t even know for certain where the crash had happened.

I did know that right after it happened, Mom had moved us to Buckley and rented this house. I’d been born in Lincoln, Nebraska, so maybe it had happened in Nebraska. Yet I’d always assumed we had already been living somewhere in Iowa. Maybe it was Mom’s family who was from Nebraska. But where else in Iowa had we lived? Des Moines, since that was the newspaper I’d found?

Also, it occurred to me that it was weird we didn’t have much money. If all those people had died, surely Mom inherited money or got insurance money. It made no sense.

Googling everybody who had died brought up records of long-dead people with similar names and nothing more. What if it was all made up? What if those weren’t their names at all? What if I was adopted—or worse, kidnapped? That would be crazy. But it also would explain why Mom was so paranoid.

Could that really be it?

About the Author:

Kelly Vincent wrangles data weekdays and spends the rest of her time playing with words. She grew up in Oklahoma but has moved around quite a bit, with Glasgow, Scotland being her favorite stop. She now lives near Seattle with three cats who definitely help her write her stories. She’s also working toward the Red Earth Master of Fine Arts in creative writing at Oklahoma City University.

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My Take on Critique Groups by Robin Martin – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Robin Martin will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

My Take on Critique Groups

I’ve been in a few critique groups over the years and I’ve found there are a number of factors that determine their usefulness for a writer. I think you first have to establish what your purpose is. If you just want a support group, a cheerleading team, that’s fine. Look for some like-minded writers and share your work. I’ve been in that kind of group and, while the collegiality was great, I discovered it wasn’t what I needed. Most of the people saw writing as an enjoyable hobby rather than a profession. I wanted constructive feedback that would help me improve my writing.

I’ve also been in groups where the feedback was brutal, no holds barred. While honesty is a good quality, cruelty is not. One of my most unpleasant experiences in a writing group was when a writer was not merely criticised, but ridiculed. That’s never okay. A critique should be respectful, making it clear it’s the work being criticised and not the writer.

The group I’m in now has a good balance. We are all YA writers, so we understand the genre, and we have guidelines for critiques so they are useful and help us to improve our writing, or at least get another person’s view. And, it’s important to remember it is a point of view. If one person says something about your work, you can take it or leave it. But if three or four people say the same thing, then maybe it’s time to take notice. Another good thing I’ve found about critique groups is they enable you to network and share news about what’s happening in the writing community. I’ve also had a few beta readers from my group, who have given more in-depth critiques on my work, and that’s been invaluable.

So, I guess the take on this is, if you’re a writer who is considering a critique group, decide what you want from it and find the group that best fits your needs. Most writers need feedback, and sometimes having a compatible critique group with a shared understanding of purpose can be a valuable experience.

Mischief, mayhem, and magic hit East Valley High when Pandora, the rogue alien, turns up. This sassy alien has one agenda, to have as much fun as she can before her people realise she’s gone rogue and materialised on Earth in human form without their permission. Instantly popular, Pandora charms students and teachers alike as she parties her way through the term, but still aces her studies. Even Rion, is influenced by her as he begins to question whether he is still more alien than human. He and Zoe are finally together, but for how long? Zoe has worries too, especially about her mother’s health. Everything is changing in this final year of high school. Zoe and Rion are crazy about each other, but can their new relationship last not only the ups and downs of human problems, but alien ones too!

Enjoy an Excerpt

The music changed from an Ariana Grande pop song to the opening chords of a much older Deep Purple track my previous host, who had been around in the 60s, had listened to. I was surprised because I didn’t think many teens knew it today. Then I heard the thump of heels on wood, and I looked over to see Pandora on top of the coffee table, starting to dance and turn circles. Catching my eye, she stopped and lifted her glass. ‘This one’s for my favourite alien, Orion,—“Space Truckin’.” Woohoo!’

I sensed rather than saw heads swivel in my direction. I felt dozens of pairs of eyes on me. How could she do that? How could she blurt out the one secret I’d tried so hard to hide? I felt the blood drain from my face, and I dropped the can of cola I was holding as the opening lines of the rock song blared out. Pandora downed her drink, threw her glass into the crowd, and started to dance again.

Then I heard laughter and someone, I think it was Chad Everett, say, ‘Good one, Pandora. We always knew he was weird.’

About the Author: Robin Martin is an author and teacher, who writes both adult and young adult romance. Originally from Canada, she now lives in Brisbane, Australia. Her YA sci fi romance series, The Alien Chronicles includes My Alien, The Alien Within, and Once an Alien.
Her adult books published under the name Robin Thomas, include High Stakes and Bonjour Cherie.

A member of the Romance Writers of Australia and Write-Links, for children’s and YA writers, Robin also connects with writers and readers on her author’s Facebook page or on her website.

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What a Widow Wants by Jenna Jaxon – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jenna Jaxon will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter.

Widowed by the Battle of Waterloo, the ladies of Lyttlefield Park are returning to London society—with their futures in their own hands . . .

The widowed Lady Stephen Tarkington, Fanny to her friends, has finished mourning her cad of a husband and is ready to enjoy her freedom. The kind of freedom neither a gently bred miss nor a close-watched wife is permitted: dressing up as Aphrodite for a masquerade, drawing gentlemen away from the party, and hinting at late-night assignations with her dance partners. All is going pleasurably according to plan—until the Roman god Fanny kisses during a masquerade turns out to be Matthew, Lord Lathbury, whose proposal she refused years ago . . .

Lathbury is charming, passionate, inventive, everything Fanny wants in a lover—but unfortunately, he’s on the hunt for a wife. He’s more than willing to use all his wicked skills to persuade her back to the altar, but he can’t wait forever. And now Fanny’s position is more precarious than she once thought. If the tongues of the ton set to wagging, it’s possible no offer in the world will save her from ruin. But does she want to be saved? . . .

Enjoy an Excerpt:

Leaning into him, she whispered, “We can renew our acquaintance in all ways that count.”

“So you’ll agree to bed me but not wed me?”

“For the moment.” She tapped her fingers lightly on his chest. “Would that be such a hardship on you?”

Sighing, he pulled a face. “I suppose not.” A flash of his boyish grin made her stomach drop. “May I woo you properly, at least?”

“Improperly would be more to my taste.” Fanny returned his smile with one of her own, as sultry and seductive as she could make it. “But I suppose some decorous behavior wouldn’t kill me either.”

“Good.” He took her hands and raised them to his lips. “I leave for Brighton at the end of the week. I’d hoped you’d be accompanying me as my wife, but that—”

“As your wife?” How arrogant of him to think she’d fall into his arms at the snap of his fingers.

“Well? Will you meet me in Brighton?” Matthew’s eager voice brought her back to the dim room now filled with possibilities.

“I will be happy to journey to Brighton, my lord. If I find you there, I do hope you will attend me most earnestly.” In a heart’s beat she slipped her hands from his, pulled his lips down to hers, and sealed the pact with a kiss so warm and sweet her resolve slipped a notch. “And now if you’ll excuse me?” Turning swiftly on her toes, Fanny raced for the door. As she grasped the handle, she glanced back at him.

The victorious grin on his face sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled the door open and fled into the corridor before she could change her mind.

About the Author:

Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical romance in all time periods because, she says, “passion is timeless.” She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, Jenna has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise. She tries to incorporate all of these elements into her own stories. She’s a theatre director when she’s not writing and lives in Gloucester, Virginia with her family, including two very vocal cats and one silent one.

Jenna is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America as well as an active member of Chesapeake Romance Writers, her local chapter of RWA. She has four series currently available: The House of Pleasure, set in Georgian England, Handful of Hearts, set in Regency England, and Time Enough to Love, set in medieval England and France, and The Widows’ Club series, also set in Regency England and available from Kensington Publishing in both print and digital.

She currently writes to support her chocolate habit.

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Why Music Inspires My Writing by Amy L. Gale – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Amy will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Why Music Inspires My Writing
Bone-rattling drums vibrating through your chest, the scream of an electric guitar sending sweet melodies along the air waves, a crisp raw voice cutting through the dark of the night, Is there anything more magical than experiencing your favorite rock anthem?

I’ve always thought of music as pure emotion. A story played out through melodies and lyrics to create an audio version of exactly what a person in that situation would be feeling. Fast hardcore chords mimic frustration and anger while slow soft melodies imitate love and sometimes heartbreak. Music expresses the human soul in a unique way, just like a book can.

When I started my journey as a writer, I combined my passion for music as well as my love of romance to create Blissful Disaster. I was never the girl who wanted to ride off into the sunset on a white horse with Prince Charming. I was the girl who wanted to hop on the tour bus and ride off with a hot rock God that everyone wanted, but was all mine. What better way to start a story than with your own personal fantasy? I sat down with my laptop, fired up my IPod, and placed my ear buds in my ears. I was ready to snag my rock God.

As I plotted out my story I thought about my favorite songs, the stories that I can’t get enough of and can listen to over and over again. What would it be like to be in one of those songs? Would capturing the heart of my hot, sexy, rock God be everything I thought it would? I sank back into my couch, closed my eyes, and drifted off into the fantasy music world. As my mind experienced the adventure, the storyline for Blissful Disaster played out like a movie in my head. I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and began to type.

Every night I couldn’t wait to submerge myself back into my fantasy rock world. I repeated the same process night after night, writing while gathering inspiration from my favorite tunes. I needed some new material, so I rummaged through the shelves of my closet and checked out the inventory. I’ve gathered quite a collection of cd’s, records, and cassette tapes over the years. I pulled out the oldies but goodies and played a variety of different tracks, some happy and some sad but all of them creating new emotional adventures for Ali and Tyler. As the music flowed through me and onto the pages, I thought about my fairytale. Is there always a happily ever after or do real fairytales contain some type of tragic force that just won’t let life be perfect, a blissful disaster.

One night stands.
Career-driven Ali Whitman, never dreamed of having one, until she finds herself waking up next to a handsome tattooed man she knows nothing about. After celebrating her promotion to field reporter at Entertainment Rocks! magazine, she breaks her number one rule – to focus on work without the distraction of the opposite sex.

Tyler Young lives by his own set. As bassist for Devil’s Garden, he exudes sexual energy and lives for the moment; no strings attached, no regrets, and no looking back.

When the two are brought face to face during an interview it goes sour, sparking a string of disasters. As their feelings for each other grow, they find themselves living by a new set of rules, but demons from the past haunt their new found love. Is it possible to crawl from the ashes of the aftermath or will it all go down in flames?

Perfect bliss or complete disaster?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Throbbing pain pulsates through my head, sending echoes of agony through every crevice of my skull. I lift my head and grimace. Bad idea. My heartbeat pounds a fierce rhythm in my ears. If it’s possible for a human brain to explode, mine wants to unleash the wrath of an atomic bomb. It’s like I’m reliving the morning after my twenty-first birthday, three years later. Well, the hair of the dog theory never seemed to work for me. Maybe a little fresh air will help. I rub my eyes and spring into a sitting position. Bright rays of sunlight burst through the window, temporarily blinding me. I’m never drinking again. Sure, I’ve told myself that after almost every hangover. Why don’t I listen? Within seconds everything becomes clearer. A ripple of soft satin flows across the length of my queen-sized bed, moving toward me like a snake slithering through the grass. A silhouette enrobed in the white sheets lies asleep on the opposite side of me. I cover my mouth holding in the scream that’s dying to escape. No, I couldn’t have. I mean, I came to L.A. to pursue a professional writing career and now I’m a one-night floozy. Oh my God, what the hell happened last night?

About the Author:Romance author by night, pharmacist by day, Amy Gale loves rock music and the feel of sand between her toes. She attended Wilkes University where she graduated with a Doctor of Pharmacy degree. In addition to writing, she enjoys baking, scary movies, rock concerts, and reading books at the beach. She lives in the lush forest of Northeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, six cats, and golden retriever.

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