This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Eden Monroe will award a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

One of my most embarrassing situations happened many years ago and involved a pair of winter boots. They were tall and white and I polished them every night to keep them looking nice. They laced up the front, with metal eyelets, like a pair of figure skates, only these boots went all the way to my knees. The laces had begun to stretch quite a bit so I’d lace them to the top and then back down to somewhere in the middle where I’d tie them off. One morning I was running really late for work so I laced the boots to the top, then tied a bow which made a couple of big bunny ears on each boot. I left them like that before hurrying out the door.

I was making good time and only had a few more blocks to go. On King Street East the sidewalk was on a slight downhill grade, then turned into a walkway on a sharper decline which was my shortcut through the park. All of a sudden, just as I started onto the walkway, one of the bunny ears on my left boot looped around a metal eye on the right boot and effectively tied my legs together, turning my stride into a hop. I couldn’t get stopped without falling flat on my face. Since I had momentum, it meant hopping all the way to the bottom of the walkway. It was more than just a few feet I can tell you, but I couldn’t get stopped until I was on flat ground. Anyway, when I did get stopped I undid the binding and everything was fine. I don’t know how I managed to keep from falling.

The sidewalk and subsequent walkway through the park were busy at that time of morning and people must have wondered why one second I was striding along and the next I started hopping. There was no way anyone could tell I was having a wardrobe malfunction, and that I had been hobbled. It must have been quite a sight, me in my tall white boots and mini skirt hopping down the hill.

I should use that sometime. Like they say, nothing is ever lost on a writer.

By the way, I wasn’t late for work.

The motion picture, Retribution, could be the big break Alexandra Martel has been waiting for. A Canadian movie star and strong female lead, even greater success may be within reach. But she also envies her married sisters, and has been hoping to meet her own soulmate.

Dr. Beau Remington, handsome male lead is the hometown veterinarian. He’s been contracted by motion picture execs to be on set when animals are called for, so when he and Alexandra eventually cross paths there is undeniable chemistry. However, Hollywood heartthrob James Langford has already laid claim to the striking young actress and tries to stop the budding romance.

Then everything changes at sunrise one morning when Alexandra goes for a run alone in the picturesque Belleisle, New Brunswick countryside. That’s when the man who’s been stalking her for weeks finally makes his move. She must endure the terrifying ordeal of being kidnapped and drugged in this Eastern Canada romantic suspense.

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The old dog, soaked from a tumble into the icy water and limping badly, continued to pick its way along the creek that rushed between steep boulder-strewn banks. Beau Remington, far above on horseback, spotted the bedraggled canine and quickly dismounted, clamouring down the embankment toward it. With one arm wrapped around a sturdy yellow birch to anchor himself, he stretched forward to scoop up the small dog and slipped it inside his jacket. Steadying the terrified animal with one hand he then began the climb back up to the trail where his horse, Chance, waited patiently.

He talked to the dog soothingly, the rich timbre of his voice comforting as the shivering slowly began to subside within the warmth of leather on a cool spring day. Beau urged the gelding into a trot for the final half-mile to his ranch nestled deep in the rolling hills of Belleisle, New Brunswick, Canada’s picture province. He loved the quiet solitude, but soon the area would have some unlikely visitors when they started shooting the movie, Retribution, a few miles up the road. As a veterinarian he’d already agreed to be on set when animals were scheduled to appear in the movie, so it should be an interesting experience.

The dog whimpered plaintively against him, reigniting Beau’s anger at the insensibility of some selfish, cold-hearted pet owners. This had definitely been a dump, an old dog, half-blind and likely no longer wanted. The poor thing had either been lame before being abandoned, or injured in the fall, and it was because of situations like this that he’d dedicated his life to animals.

About the Author:Eden Monroe writes about real life, real issues and struggles, and triumphing against all odds. A proud east coast Canadian, she enjoys a variety of outdoor activities, and a good book.

Buy the book at Amazon.

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When I thought about writing Who Buried Sarah, my first step was to decide on a provocative title and then write the story to fit that title. Next I briefly considered time periods in which to set this story, and quickly settled on the 1920’s, my source of inspiration very quickly coming into focus. First of all 1926 when the story begins as well as 1927 as it continues are important family milestones for me, as are the settings of Gondola Point and the neighbouring village of Rothesay. Both are very dear to me because my mother spent her formative years in that area, a poor girl and youngest child of a widowed mother who worked as a live-in maid. That meant Mum had to go to school with the sons and daughters of the Rothesay elite. Given my mother’s obvious economic and social limitations she naturally felt ostracized, and her natural inclination toward melancholy, which I inherited, did not make for an easy time.

Sarah and Fanny in Who Buried Sarah shared similar life circumstances, although I choose to help them rise above it. They would not suffer as my mother once did.

My father also briefly lived in Gondola Point, a small farming community on the Kennebecasis River, and met my mother selling strawberries door to door. So how could I have anything but a romantic heart?

My inspiration for Sarah’s fiancé, Connor McLagen, the son of wealthy businessman Pritchard Mclagen and his wife Agnes, is again a throwback to old-money Rothesay and the privilege of affluence. At one time Rothesay was a summer haven for the well-to-do of nearby Saint John, but following the great fire in June of 1877 that destroyed a major portion of that city, many who had summer homes in Rothesay chose to relocate there on a permanent basis – social standing intact.

Of course placing McLagen & Son Ltd. on the Saint John waterfront during Prohibition was a natural fit. I simply could not resist the easy pickings offered by this venerable old city, incorporated in 1784: the salty tang of ocean breezes, the bustling harbor and stately stone buildings – architectural triumphs – that rose in defiance from the ashes of the great fire. A story set in Saint John is certainly worth telling.

To help breathe life into my characters I cast their roles from the ranks of TV and cinema to star in Who Buried Sarah. Going about it that way, as I always do, helps dialogue flow more easily while I get to know everyone better. When the characters are fleshed out so to speak and I hit the groove, it makes for a much more relaxed experience. I become the spectator, or however they wish to put me to good use to get their story told. But even those stars who’ve been cast must continue to inspire me, or I will find someone else to play the part. It has certainly happened before.

I’m also heavily influenced by music – inspired by a song I hear on the radio or wherever. If I am greatly moved by a song, if it touches that spot deep within me, a book idea is immediately born. I don’t even have to write it down. I will never forget the emotion it evoked in me. Emotions are one of my best inspirations, as are passions. For example, my passion for roses became Sarah’s passion for roses in Who Buried Sarah, her independent spirit my own battle cry.

Sarah, the only child of Rev. and Mrs. Cranston Estey, was betrothed to Connor McLagen of the affluent McLagen family. The McLagens were socially revered, although there were rumours of nefarious underpinnings to their substantial wealth, and the God-fearing Esteys were not in favour of the marriage.

Three days before the June 1927 wedding, Sarah disappeared. Her note said she’d changed her mind and decided to leave town.

A week later she was found, buried in a rose garden, the gruesome and sensational discovery knocking New Brunswick prohibition wars out of the headlines.

There were many with secrets to keep…

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“Then stop playing with fire. Look, I like it that you want to … go further … but not now, darling. We have to wait for the right time and I promise to live up to your expectations. There will be nothing holding us back then, but I promise I will be gentle.”

Shifting away from him slightly, she gazed out across the river. “I understand that. I’m not exactly inexperienced about such things, Connor.”

Had she really just said that aloud? She was aghast that the secret she knew she had to share with him at some point had spontaneously bubbled to the surface. This was probably the worst time for such a revelation, but there was no turning back now.
There was silence as she waited for the fallout from the bomb she’d just dropped, not daring to look at him.

“Excuse me?” he asked after a moment, his voice gone hard. “What did you mean by that, Sarah?”

Apparently this had unexpectedly become the time for truth telling. She was as surprised as he was it was happening, but she loved him too much not to be completely honest. She’d just thought it would somehow be easier to do. “What I mean is … I’ve … ahhh … been with a man before.”

He was deadly calm. “In what way?”

About the Author: Eden Monroe writes about real life, real issues and struggles, and triumphing against all odds. A proud east coast Canadian, she enjoys a variety of outdoor activities, and a good book.

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway