Everything’s Coming Up Daisy by Nancy Fraser – Spotlight and Giveaway

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Kristen Matthews is a single mother of a very precocious five-year old named, Daisy. When Kristen and Daisy relocate to Last Chance Beach to live with Kristen’s eccentric aunt, Kristen has her reservations. The move brings them in close proximity to her ex-boyfriend’s rich family. Given Daisy’s father never wanted a permanent arrangement, neither he nor Kristen ever told his family about Daisy’s birth.

Ellis Tait has taken over the management of all of Tait Holding’s businesses since his father’s passing. His step-mother prefers her Summerville mansion. His playboy brother hasn’t been seen or heard from in nearly five years, preferring to travel around Europe squandering his inheritance. After a number of intense business negotiations, Ellis travels to the family’s vacation estate on Last Chance Beach for a few weeks of relaxation—not that he ever truly relaxes.

When Kristen and Ellis meet for the first time, Kristen’s determined to keep the secret of Daisy’s heritage to herself. However, the more she gets to know Ellis, the more she realizes he’s nothing at all like his younger brother.

A modern twist on the classic Sabrina. Can this single-mom avoid her ex’s family and hide the fact that her daughter is heiress to the family fortune? Or, will the island magic of Last Chance Beach unite an overworked mom and curmudgeon of a family patriarch in time for a happily-ever-after?

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Crosswinds Bridge, Point of Entry for Last Chance Beach
Present Day

This was a mistake. A huge mistake.

Kristen Matthews pulled into line behind the cars waiting for access to the bridge leading to the island. She spared a quick glance in her rear view mirror and assured herself that her daughter was securely buckled, and her booster seat was in the upright position.

To Daisy, this was a big adventure, a chance to live in a place filled with sunlight, ocean breezes, and fun! To Kristen, it was a recipe for disaster.

“Are we almost there, mommy?” Daisy asked.

“Yes, Doodlebug. We’re about to get on the bridge. Then, once we drive across the water, we’ll be on the island.”

“I wanted to take the ferry, like we did last summer when we came to visit Auntie El.”

“We couldn’t this time because we’re pulling a trailer full of our things. There’s no room on the ferry for trailers, just cars.”

“Are we going to live in one of Auntie El’s cottages, or in the big house?”

“We’ll live in the big house with Aunt Eloise. From what she told me in her last email, she got rid of the cabins last fall.”

“She gave them away?”

“No, dear. She had them torn down and the land cleared. I’m pretty sure she also had the main house painted as well.”

A soft whimper sounded from the back seat. “But I liked the polka dots. I hope she kept them.”

“This is Aunt Eloise. Even if the dots are gone, I’m pretty sure there will be something just as fancy in their place.”

“Maybe it’ll be unicorns,” Daisy reasoned. “I love unicorns.”

“Yes, I know,” Kristen agreed, a chuckle smothered rather quickly behind a yawn. It had been a long day, with no measurable end in sight.

“I can’t wait to see Jerry, and Elvira, and Petunia, and even Juniper. Maybe this time, she won’t think my finger is a carrot stick.”

“In Juniper’s defense, you have to remember she is blind in one eye. You have to be careful when you offer her food and make sure you approach from her good side.”

“I wonder if Auntie El has adopted any more guinea pigs?”

Oh please, no. Kristen pulled in a breath and prayed there wouldn’t be more rescued animals added to the menagerie who lived in her aunt’s home. Between the four guineas, two barn cats, and her fourteen year old terrier, Jake, you couldn’t go ten feet without tripping over a water bowl or stray toy.

They reached the island less than twenty minutes later, and Kristen merged into traffic along Ocean Drive. Eloise’s home was on Windsurfer Drive, with a beautiful ocean view and within walking distance to one of the nicest public beaches on the island.

“Look, mama,” Daisy said suddenly. “You can see someone flying up in the sky.”

Kristen chuckled. “I’d better not take my eyes off the road. No doubt it’s a tourist taking advantage of Land or Leap’s parasailing adventures.”

“I think it’s a superhero flying around protecting people.”

She spared a quick thought for her good friends Chase and Jared, owners of Land or Leap. Both were certainly hunky enough to be considered superheroes. “Maybe,” she conceded. “Or, maybe, it’s a flying guinea pig.”

Daisy’s exaggerated sigh echoed through the car. “Don’t be silly, mommy. Piggies don’t fly. According to Auntie El, all they do is eat and poop.”

“Well you know what your grandpa always says. ‘If you’re going to do something, do it really well.’ I’d say the piggies have mastered both.”

They passed Barnacle Bill’s mini golf, the pier leading out to Rod’s bar, the parking lot at Cliff House, finally turning onto the side road leading to house. Pulling into her aunt’s long driveway, she drew to halt, raised her gaze, and let the latest changes to the century old home sink in.

For frick sakes! Like Daisy, Kristen found herself wishing for the return of the polka dots. “What do you think, Doodlebug? Has Auntie El outdone herself with the renovations?”

“Wowzers,” Daisy said, giggling. “One, two, three, four… um… five different colors. It looks like a box of crayons exploded all over the front of auntie’s house.”

“One thing’s for sure. We’ll never get lost. I’m pretty sure this place glows in the dark.”

About the Author: NANCY FRASER is a bestselling and award-winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Her spicy romances have won top awards year after year and received cover quotes from some of the most recognized names in the romance industry. Her sweet romances have gained the attention of a number independent reviewers and she was named a “bright new voice in sweet/inspirational romance” by the Christian blog Independently Reviewed.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

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A Difficult Lesson For Any Writer To Learn by Ryan Lawrence – Guest Post and Giveaway

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A Difficult Lesson For Any Writer To Learn

As an author, one of the most challenging parts of the writing process is knowing when to stop. What does that mean exactly? Well, when you write your story, you have to understand that there comes a time when the rewrites and the editing process have to reach a final stage of acceptance that the story is complete. While I do not wish to speak for anyone but myself, I think it is safe to say that it is a common thing many writers have to feel like they could do more, write more, edit further, and tighten or tweak that last bit of storyline to make it perfect.

But what is perfection? How do we make something perfect? Is that even attainable? I spent months upon months going over my novel, rewriting and editing back and forth to make sure my sentences were tight, my storylines made sense, and my timeline flowed seamlessly. Of course, the more I went back to my story, the more “opportunities” I saw to adjust and make perfect. It became a rabbit hole I fell into, and I could not see a way out. I had blinded myself to any potential path out of this trap of perfectionism.

I had my novel, Vindictive, professionally edited and Beta tested; even still, I could not trust anyone but myself to tell me my story was ready for publication. The thought that I had only one chance to make a first impression crippled me. What if someone thought my novel was not well-written or thoughtful or exciting or—?! And there is that rabbit hole of self-doubt and perfectionism I was stuck in.

Eventually, my husband had had enough of seeing me on this hamster wheel and intervened. He asked me several poignant questions. Did I write this book for my own sense of creative fulfillment? Did I write this novel because I had a story to tell? Did I write this story for myself and hope it would resonate with like-minded people? Did I do everything I could to make it literarily professional and accessible? Did I understand that it’s okay if not everyone likes it, gets it or appreciates it?

Talking with my husband about my goals helped me clear my head and realize that perfection only exists in the worldview of people who want everyone to like them and, by extension, everything they produce. I soon realized that what I had written was something I had read a hundred times and still enjoyed, was still proud of, and that was enough.

Perfectionism is a trap and an unrealistic expectation for human beings who are, naturally, imperfect creatures. But it is in the attempt to understand that imperfection that makes a writer the creative artist they are. Sometimes you have to get out of your own way to see the truth, and having someone you trust to help you see the path clearer is a gift one should never take for granted.

The best revenge is revenge. Getting it is all that matters.

Jules Cartell has it all: wealth; beauty; a handsome, loving husband; a partnership in her father’s law firm; and the top executive position at one of Canada’s leading corporations, Cartell Worldwide. Aside from her secret, problematic desire for the married owner of the internationally renowned Château Bergé, Jules believes she and her life are pretty perfect. But the discovery of an unforgivable crime perpetrated against her family by her husband, Phillip, years before the two met sets Jules down the path of revenge. There is no option for forgiveness. Phillip has to pay. An eye for an eye.

It is said that when seeking revenge, you should dig two graves. Someone from Jules’s past, someone aggrieved by her actions, seeks vengeance for themselves. This is an enemy without compassion, without morality, without mercy. An enemy who will accept no restitution short of Jules’s death.

In the city of Fairporte, ON, secrets, lies, and betrayal can be found everywhere. As adversaries close in, will Jules get revenge before her past catches up with her? Unexpected allies may be instrumental to her success. They may also be the key to her very survival.

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She cried for Ethan and for the bright-eyed girl she could no longer be. Jules wanted to run away from this place of death. She also wanted to run away from her selfish choice to ensure her survival, her future. Jules wished all of it had never happened. But it did happen, and she would have to live with it for the rest of her life.

“Ethan! No! Ethan!”

Startled, Jules quickly turned and looked in the direction of the shrieking bellow. It was William, tearing down the woods, screaming his brother’s name over and over again.

Having discovered his charges missing from the house, William had reluctantly gone about searching for them outside. Sadly, it was not soon enough to intervene and prevent the devastating incident.

When William finally reached the clearing, he stopped at the edge of the lake and looked out upon the scene of broken ice and still water. With clenched fists, he fell to his knees and screamed in anguish. His brother was dead and gone, swallowed whole by the cold, murky depths.

Angrily turning towards Jules, William showered upon her a rage so pure, so palpable it might as well have been a physical smack across her face. His glare was full of hate. And so were his words.

“Why didn’t you help him, you fucking bitch?! You did nothing! You let him drown!”

Jules stood as immobile as a stone and ate her emotions, swallowing all her sadness, guilt, and self-reproach. She owned the choice she had made. The only one possible. The correct choice. She understood William’s pain, but she was well aware of his vile nature.

Jules had her suspicions of what might diffuse her attacker: using his own words—his ignorance and prejudice—against him. Maybe then he would leave her alone. She had only done what was necessary. All she could do.

And who was he to blame her anyway? Was he there when it happened? No! He had been too busy playing video games to look after them, too busy to save his brother, too busy to have prevented all of this in the first place.

Be mean, Jules silently told herself. Act like a grown-up.

With unwavering resolve, staring William down with cold, hard eyes, Jules scoffed, “What the hell could I have done? I’m just a girl. Right?”

About the Author:
Ryan Lawrence was born and raised in Guelph, Ontario. He is a 2000 graduate of The University of Guelph in English. Ryan has worn many hats professionally, including working over 12 years as a custom art framer. While writing has always been a part of his life, it was only after leaving this profession that Ryan seriously took his education and passion for writing by the horns and began the journey towards Vindictive, his first novel.

Since 2002, Ryan has lived in London, Ontario, with his husband, Todd, together since 1997, their cat Dora, and his massive comic book collection that once fell on Todd. He’s okay.

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Writing Quirks by Stephanie M. Allen – Guest Blog and Giveaway

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*****

I’m definitely not your typical writer. Before I get into that, let me introduce myself. My name is Stephanie M. Allen. I’m a 7th grade English teacher, a mom to two kiddos, and a wife of thirteen years. I have a grouchy old-lady cat and a drama princess of a dog. As you can see, I’m a pretty normal person. However, when it comes to my writing, I definitely have my quirks.

My brain always gravitates toward fantasy. Every story that I write, even if I don’t intend for it to have fantastical elements…well, they come into it somehow. I’ve published six books so far. I have a four-book young adult fantasy series that I self-published. That was fun to write and was definitely a hobby that I enjoyed. Then came the current series I’m working on.

One of my writing quirks – not just for this trilogy, but for all my books – is that I don’t have a written plot outline. Of course, I have my notes and my map. It is a fantasy world, after all, and it’s hard to keep track of all those names and places! But, when it comes to a story outline, I use Spotify. Every single book that I write has a Spotify playlist. I use a mixture of instrumental and vocal music. Usually, I will listen for similar musical themes, especially with the instrumental music. The Game of Thrones soundtrack has played a huge role in the Dueling Fates trilogy so far. I love the dark themes that run throughout the music.

Honestly, I don’t think I could write without music. It’s always been a part of my writing process. What’s weird, though, is that I don’t usually listen to music while I’m writing. I listen to it before, after, or when I’m in a writer’s block. And when I look back on my playlists, I can see how much I’ve evolved over the years. For my first book, Harmony, most of the songs were vocal songs – think of the Twilight soundtracks. That was my inspiration back then. As I developed the story – and as I matured in my writing – I liked to let the instrumental soundtracks play so I could watch the story play out in my head. Almost like a movie.

When I find the right music tracks, it almost allows me to see into another world. The story starts writing itself. It’s like the characters are telling me their stories and, sometimes, they take me down unexpected roads. In Divided Fates, I never expected Niri – the nashech heir – to make some of the choices she did. However, now that I look at the story as a whole, it makes so much sense. Same with Isemay. She surprised me in this book. I did not expect her to have so much chemistry with one of the characters that she takes a journey with. However, it made sense and, as I said, when I look at the story as a whole, I see how it all fits together.

So music really does make my stories. I don’t even know how I would write without it. And if I ever lose my hearing….well, it’s a good thing I’ve listened to a lot of music over years. Hopefully I’ll be able to remember it.

Ten days after the battle in the north, the world of Erez has been thrown into turmoil.

Princess Isemay awakens – injured and weak – in a strange village. Branded an outcast because of her mixed heritage but forced to stay against her will, she must choose to conform to the sha’nidow way of life or face the consequences. When a mysterious stranger arrives with a heartbreaking message, Isemay’s hope abandons her to a fate far more destructive than she was prepared for.

Princess Alena finds herself the queen of the northern kingdom – powerful, adored, alone. Fighting inner demons of darkness, she travels south to visit her brother, now the king of Neilos. But fate will not allow her to find peace, and she must decide whether she will side with those she loves or the one who holds ultimate power.

Niri Flesh-cleaver, granddaughter to the elusive Choshech and heir to the nashech throne, has everything she could want – and yet her heart yearns for more. Torn between her mother’s orders and a forbidden love, she quickly realizes she cannot have both. Driven by brokenness, she will seek to destroy the one person she blames for Choshech’s demise – and find that perhaps her heart was the better guide all along.

Three women. Three separate journeys. One path to find that fate will divide even the closest of bonds.

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“Your Majesty, go!” Jeremy shouted as he shoved the king toward his stallion. “We can’t fight what we can’t see.”

Jordan murmured a prayer for Jori and Noam as he gripped Ryoma’s mane and mounted bareback. “Get to a horse!” he ordered as he slammed his heels into his stallion’s ribs. Ryoma shot forward into the night, his ears flat against his skull. Refusing to allow panic to shiver its way into his body, Jordan used his legs to guide his stallion, keeping his hand fisted in the horse’s mane. Echoing hoofbeats came from behind—as well as the flapping of several wings.

“Your Majesty, above you!”

Jordan lay forward against Ryoma’s neck as a shadow passed right where his head had been. “Who are you?” he shouted at the fleeing darkness.

A shrieking roar filled the night as another shadow blew above him.

He squeezed his heels against Ryoma, urging the poor horse to gallop even faster. They were among trees now. He could feel branches whipping him in the face as his stallion fled at a blinding pace. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt as though they were climbing.

He could no longer hear hoofbeats behind him and prayed that Jeremy hadn’t befallen the same fate as the other two men. The trees seemed to be providing some cover for he could no longer hear flapping wings close by. The night was pitch black as they barreled headlong over unfamiliar ground, driving further and further up the mountain.

A roar and a crash sounded from somewhere behind him as Jordan and Ryoma broke through the tree line. He gasped as the moonlight suddenly filled his vision. They were atop a mountain peak, streaking along an open space. He risked a glance behind to see another horse break out of the forest—a riderless horse.

About the Author: Stephanie M. Allen graduated from California Baptist University in 2009 with a B.A. in English and a desire to share her imaginative stories with the world. She loves to write fantasy, particularly centered around young adults. Aside from writing, Stephanie loves to read, ride horses, and sing. She currently lives in Wyoming with her husband and two children.

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Beyond the Birch by Torina Kingsley – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Torina Kingsley 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.

Eleven year old Macy dreams of action and adventure that will take her far beyond her family’s farm. But what will happen when that adventure finds her?

Long ago, faeries were banished from the land after a legendary battle. So long ago that many wonder if faeries really exist or if the battle was just a tall tale. But one mysterious night, Macy’s mother is attacked, and ever since, unusual things start happening. Missing items, changing moods, and most strange of all, the family’s sheep start behaving unusually.

Her mother is suddenly determined to get rid of the sheep, and Macy suspects that the reason may be sinister. When Macy meets a boy her age, the aloof and sarcastic Jay, they embark on a journey to discover the truth and save her mother. In this twist on The Wonderful Birch, you won’t find kings, queens, or evil stepmothers. Instead, you’ll find two courageous pre-teens from the outskirts, ready to defend Odele from the magical forces that threaten it.

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The sun was just starting to set on the rolling hills of the Jensen property. Laurel Jensen climbed the nearest hill, the wind whipping at her graying curls. She looked all around, searching her surroundings.

Where did that sheep run off too? she thought with frustration. She looked back towards the pen, where she could see the rest of the flock grazing. With a sigh, she turned from them and continued on in search of the silly creature.

“How many times have I told Macy to keep the pasture gate closed?” she muttered, gathering up her skirts as she began to climb a particularly steep hill. Though her boots were sturdy and built for the rough terrain, Laurel much preferred flat ground to these hills. Each step left her more winded than the last.

All at once, she slipped and landed hard on her hip. In a panic, she reached into her pocket on that same side and pulled out a clay, beaded necklace that her daughter had given her earlier that morning. She breathed a sigh of relief to see it unharmed.

“Happy birthday, Ma!” Macy had said. Her brown curly locks framed her face, making her look much older than her eleven years. “I made it just for you.”

Laurel smiled as she remembered, knowing these moments would become scarce in the next year or two. She put the necklace around her neck and then flinched as she reached down to rub her bruised hip. She exhaled and picked herself up to continue up the hill. At the top, she saw a treeline not far ahead. Feeling hopeful, she began her descent in that direction.

About the Author:Author Torina Kingsley masterfully creates a world where things aren’t always as they seem. Beyond the Birch is an imaginative spin on an old folktale that reminds us all to hold our loved ones close and always believe in own our capabilities.

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Big Shot by Kirsten Weiss – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kirsten Weiss 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.

Small Town. Big Murder.

The number one secret to my success as a bodyguard? Staying under the radar. But when a wildly public disaster and a dead client blew up my career and reputation, it turned my perfect, solo life upside down.

I thought my tiny hometown of Nowhere would be the ideal out-of-the-way refuge to wait out the media storm.

It wasn’t.

My little brother had moved into a treehouse. The obscure mountain town had decided to attract tourists with the world’s largest collection of big things… Yes, Nowhere now has the world’s largest pizza cutter. And lawn flamingo. And ball of yarn…

And then I stumbled over a dead body.

All the evidence points to my brother being the bad guy. I may have been out of his life for a while—okay, five years—but I know he’s no killer. Can I clear my brother before he becomes Nowhere’s next Big Fatality?

A fast-paced and funny cozy mystery series, buy Big Shot now to take advantage of the special pre-order price of .99 cents.

Murder mystery game included in the back of the book!

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Just to be clear, it wasn’t my fault.

It wasn’t my responsibility either. But when my client slipped me a mickey, there’s a principle involved. Though after falling down a flight of hotel stairs, I wasn’t sure what that principle was anymore.

I staggered to my feet, lost the rest of my dinner in a potted palm, and careened through the door into the hotel lobby.

Guests turned to stare, and why not? My blond hair fountained out of a high, pre-makeup-removal ponytail. Camo pajamas and flip-flops completed my tipsy party-girl look.

I staggered deeper into the chic gray and white lobby. Lights glinted off the chrome chandeliers, and I winced at their dizzying starbursts.

My fists clenched on my phone. Or at least I thought they did. My fingers were a little numb. But I’d expelled most of the drugs, and I was going to catch my wayward client, Toomas Koppel, and surveil him until it hurt. Him. Hurt him.

That wasn’t ego. I was well aware of my many flaws. But I also knew who I was and what I was, and what I was was very, very good at surveillance.

Plus, I was an optimist. Personal protection agents, otherwise known as bodyguards, frequently were. We liked to think we were tough and cynical, since our job was to watch for trouble. But you didn’t get into this business if you didn’t think you and your client would survive it. Maybe that was why I’d been snookered by mine. I still had no idea why he’d drugged me, but I was going to find out.

About the Author:Kirsten Weiss writes laugh-out-loud, page-turning mysteries. Her heroines aren’t perfect, but they’re smart, they struggle, and they succeed. Kirsten writes in a house high on a hill in the Colorado woods and occasionally ventures out for wine and chocolate. Or for a visit to the local pie shop.

Kirsten is best known for her Wits’ End, Perfectly Proper Paranormal Museum, and Tea & Tarot cozy mystery books. So if you like funny, action-packed mysteries with complicated heroines, just turn the page…

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Rock My Heart by Nadia Blair – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Nadia Blair will be awarding a $25 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.

She never meant to end up in a rock star’s bed …

By day, Madelynn Crenshaw is the perfect senator’s daughter. By night, she’s a struggling artist. She doesn’t do scandal or media scrutiny, but when wicked rock god Sloan Elliot asks her to paint him for a charity event, she can’t resist. It’s for a good cause, right? She promises herself she won’t become his latest conquest—or have her love life splashed all over page one. During their studio sessions, Madelynn can’t deny their sizzling attraction, but it’s the man behind the rock god persona she really can’t resist. Sloan tempts her, teases her, and makes her long for things she’s never allowed herself to want…

When their affair hits the tabloids, and all hell breaks loose, Madelynn and Sloan must decide if they can risk love—and heartbreak—with the whole world watching.

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Sloan let his gaze flick past her, to where her friend was having the guys sign her jean jacket.

“So, what can I do for you, darlin’?”

“Nothing, thank you,” she said coolly.

“What, no drink? No autograph? No licensed T-shirt?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I’d like my locket, please.”

“You know, this is the second time you forgot it. If I didn’t know better, I might think you’d done it on purpose, so you’d have an excuse to see me again.”

“Oh, no. You’ve figured out my ploy.” She rolled her eyes. “And for your information, I’m not a Park Avenue princess.”

He looked her up and down, from the long silver earrings and sleek ponytail to the tailored blazer. Prim from head to—well, not quite. She wore heels with her jeans.

“You sure look like one to me. Just can’t say no to fuck-me heels, can you, darlin’?”

“These aren’t—”

“Why don’t you have a seat?” He patted his lap. “There’s more ‘n room enough for two.” His lips curved into a mocking semblance of a smile.

“No, thank you. I prefer standing.” Her voice was cool, her face expressionless. But those cobalt eyes blazed. What would it take for him to get an honest response out of her? If he swept her off her feet and kissed her, would she swoon into his arms, or poke out his eyes?

About the Author:Nadia Blair writes steamy contemporary romance featuring outrageous bad boys and gutsy girls who give as good as they get. She has a thing for snappy dialog, humorous situations, and swoon-worthy happily-ever-afters.

When she’s not having conversations with fictional people, she enjoys summer thunderstorms, top-shelf whiskey, and rockin’ out to a classic guitar solo.

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In One Lifetime by Graham Forlonge – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Graham Forlonge will be awarding a $15 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.

This book is an autobiography of a man who had over 50 mostly major PTSD events in his life. It recounts the trials, struggles, and lessons learned over a life span of 67 years. It recalls his childhood, time as lifesaver, police diver, police driving instructor, member of SWOS, professional NRL footballer, running Police Citizens Youth Clubs (PCYC), Security Manager of the world renowned Porgera Gold Mine in PNG and world record holder of going around Australia in under 10 days on a motorcycle. The events accounted whilst a police diver as well as a Highway Patrol Officer includes plane crashes, train accidents, body recoveries and numerous fatal road accidents, some of which are major historic events in Australian history. It also includes native raids, murders, abuse and many more traumatic events while working in PNG. Some of the accounts are captivating and others highly emotional. His life and determination to succeed was mostly driven as a result of having been sexually abused over many years at the hand of his tutor as a child. It is a true Australian story and displays considerable endurance and survival skills.

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The diving course was deliberately tough, but it had to be. At night, I would come home, eat and crash. I had been an erratic sleeper for some time but during this course, I actually slept well. I also loved the diving course because of the thrill factor; it would push me again and again and I knew I would have to be strong to overcome the challenges it placed before me. Graduating from the course lifted me into a whole new level of danger in my work, a level that I accepted, even longed for.

In my first week of joining the Diving Squad, we received a call out to the wharf area, known as “The Docks”, where a body had reportedly been seen in the water. We were given a reasonably precise location of the body, despite the fact that it was not floating on the surface! Upon diving in, we located the deceased male within five minutes. The man had apparently been murdered by a fairly savage blow to the head. His body had been there for about twenty-four hours, and as we lifted it to the surface we could see that the flesh around his eyes and lips had been eaten away by sea life, and much of his brain matter was missing, presumably also eaten. We could see through the back of his head; not a pleasant sight for a young fellow on his first diving job.

It was not to be my last such hideous experience, though, nor my worst. During one particular week, there were four separate dives for bodies. I believe that was a record in those days, and it was just my luck I was involved in every one of them.

The first of the four was the most distressing. It involved a boy who had been out for a swim in the Lane Cove River, a popular swimming spot in my local childhood area. As he had probably done on many previous occasions, he swung out on a rope tied to an overhanging tree branch and dropped into the water, Unbeknownst to him, an old fallen tree had floated down the river during a recent flood and the boy became wedged between a large branch and the trunk under the water.

As I approached the site, my stomach knotted up and my blood ran cold. I lived within walking distance from this swimming hole and knew the river well, having swum there many times as a kid, having swung off the same rope a hundred times.

About the Author:Graham Forlonge is a father, footballer, policeman, diver, security officer and the author of IN ONE LIFETIME.

In the 5-Star Review from IndieReader C.S. Holmes writes, “In the memoir In One Lifetime by Graham Forlonge, the author experiences murder, plane crashes, mine explosions, and more…on his way to healing from PTSD…Graham Forlonge’s memoir In One Lifetime is an expansively honest and brutally detailed submersion into aspects of trauma that left the author with a lifelong case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and is most touching when detailing his healing process.”

It took 10+ years to write his memoir. Now, Graham works as a part time counselor for the underprivileged.

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Listening to Your Editor, Listening to Yourself, Listening Out Loud by Lou Kemp – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lou Kemp will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner, a 2nd randomly drawn winner a mug and pen with the book image and a 3rd randomly drawn winner will win a eBook via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Listening to Your Editor, Listening to Yourself, Listening Out Loud

All views expressed below are either personal experiences or advice from other authors I trust. The worth of this information has been verified by a steady improvement in my writing and in the comments that I receive from readers. A review from an astute reader will also mention what isn’t working, and that is like gold.

If you are a beginning writer…

Avoid:

Run away if a friend or relative offers to critique your writing (of course after thanking them, and perhaps even telling them why). A critique by a parent or close friend will usually be tainted with:

a) pride in knowing you are a writer, protecting you from bad news, and withholding what they thought,
b) fear of telling you what they thought so as not to hurt your feelings,
c) they may see something that needs to be changed, but are not sure why, so they do not mention it.
d) all of the above

This situation will not propel your skills forward, it could even give you a false sense of security that will eventually be blown apart when you try to sell your work.

Covet:

Writing Groups and writers conferences, whether online or in person. There are many types, and like shoes you may need to try on a dozen till you find the one that is just right, not too advanced, or not too junior of a group, not too cold, or not too hot, but just right.

Once part of a writers’ group, don’t feel obligated to read your writing to them until you are ready. When you do, listen to the feedback. Beware there are some authors in the group who may not be a good match for your purposes. To decide, take all feedback in, digest it, and determine if it is valid. Example: if more than one critique complains about the way you use the word “anyhow,” then it is probably time to rethink how you use it. If you balk at a particular suggestion, get another unbiased opinion, and compare. If both say the same thing…time to change it.

When others in the group are reading their writing, listen to what works and what doesn’t and apply it to your writing (it doesn’t have to be the same genre—you’re looking for pacing, characterizations, skill, and more). You’ll hear kernels of ideas from other writers to water, and watch grow into something fantastic. Are their characters vivid and wonderful, but there isn’t a discernable plot? Does it sound like your cat wrote it? Is the plot stellar, and you can picture it as a movie someday?

Listen to yourself:

Decide if you are writing just for yourself, or to make money. If it is money and glory you want, you’ll need an editor eventually. This stage is sometimes known as beta reading, but that is a loose interpretation. Beta readers come in a variety of experience and are at times used to see if the work is on the right track, and at other times they occur right before the book debuts. Just like a writers’ group, one editor’s point of view will not be another editors. Case in point: In my Celwyn series I’ve heard complaints about how I use the character Bartholomew. I also hear feedback that he is not only loved but readers follow what he does and can’t wait for the next book. These are completely differing points of view, and I tend to take it somewhere in the middle.

Again, there are dozens of levels of editors with the prices to match. The amateur editor/friend will do initially, but…they are usually limited. Really good editors are not there to just correct your grammar (line editing), but to use their innate sense of what is missing, what is not moving fast, where the scene is not set up with enough detail, where you write something illogical or without any background to justify it (one of my habits), where the piece is going and how will you get there with it?

If you notice things still do not read like you think they should, or that much of your feedback points to problems, look for another editor, preferably one with a good track record and who does it professionally. There are also writing classes, good ones, out there.

A final word about editors: I know of no one, big or small, who snagged a great literary agent without having their work edited by a professional.

Two tricks:

One, when you have finished a section or major part of your writing, let it sit at least 2 weeks without looking at it. Then, read it. You will see much you didn’t before because we subconsciously memorize what we write and think it is wonderful. It isn’t.

Two, ask someone (now is the time for a friend or relative) to read your writing out loud while you are sitting there. You will hear plenty you didn’t see when you edited it yourself.

Quotes:

A great quote can set the tone, explain life, scare the beejeebers out of a reader, or up the tension until the reader swears it is dripping off the walls. One of my favorites, just to explain life, that I have given Celwyn is:

“Xiau, I’d miss Earl Grey very much if I died.” This is usually repeated by someone every time he is wounded, and almost dies.

As the music dies, the magician Celwyn is mortally wounded. His darker, immortal brother Pelaez brings him back, barely, with his magic. The party of protagonists travel on the Nautilus to the Cape Verde Islands and the healer of immortals. During the journey, Professor Kang and Bartholomew can not tell if Pelaez will keep his brother alive. Captain Nemo is ready to evict Pelaez forcibly, and keeping Celwyn alive is the only thing that restrains him.

After Celwyn is saved, the healer requests payment for his services. This sends the adventurers to the catacombs in Capuchin where their experience is one they will not forget. Before it is over, several of the protagonists question why it seems everyone from warlocks and vampires to witches, seem to be congregating in their world. Before it is over, some of them become surprising allies, and a few of their allies turn against them.

In part II, work on the new flying machine begins in earnest bringing attention from the Mafioso and a cherub-like warlock called Duncan. After a final battle with Duncan, the flying machine is destroyed and everyone at their compound is murdered by one of their own.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Prelude
The rolling hills near Odessa, north of Constantinople 1867

With each step he took, Professor Xiau Kang sensed the intensity, and importance of what he would find. Above all, he felt the weight of his sadness. He had done his best to ignore that there was no guarantee Captain Nemo had located Thales, if Nemo failed to find him, Jonas Celwyn would be dead within a matter of days, perhaps hours.

A long time ago, on the Zelda, the magician had doubted a mechanical man could feel. Kang paused, swaying on his feet as he fought to regain his control; at this moment, the automat knew real despair, a wrenching grief that they would lose Jonas. He swallowed hard and walked faster, climbing to the top of the berm.

There she was! The long black submarine lay still in the water. A single sailor stood on patrol, and another perched in the cage on top with a spyglass.

Kang called, “I’ll get Mr. Celwyn. Please let the Captain know we’re here.”

Conductor Smith joined him as they ran back to the coach. The others had seen them and began unloading the magician onto the stretcher that Kang had fashioned for this moment. He skidded to a stop and grabbed Celwyn’s hand.

“The Nautilus is here. It isn’t far.”

In the distance, a low hum reached them; the sound sputtered and grew stronger.

The magician’s eyes opened slowly, like a thread from his memory raised his lids, impelling him to look. Everyone, including Jonas, gazed upward, as if they had already known what was to come.

The noise grew louder, and then a bright yellow flying machine crested the low hills and headed toward the estuary.

“Yes!” Kang shouted, raising his fist in triumph.

The plane swerved to the north, banked, and then flew toward them again in a wide arc.

“Oh, my God, it’s Bartholomew,” Elizabeth exclaimed.

Bartholomew wore a broad smile and his scarf fluttered in the breeze as he sailed over them. He waved. As he banked again, the engine revved and he turned, descending for another pass. Celwyn raised himself onto an elbow to wave back.

“Hurry,” Kang said. “Bartholomew is going to land. We have to get Jonas onto the ship.”

About the AuthorEarly work was horror and suspense, later work morphed into a combination of magical realism, mystery and adventure painted with a horrific element as needed.

I’m one of those writers who doesn’t plan ahead, no outlines, no clue, and I sometimes write myself into a corner. Atmospheric music in the background helps. Black by Pearl Jam especially.
More information is available at LouKemp.com. I’d love to hear from you and what you think of Celwyn, Bartholomew, and Professor Xiau Kang.

Milestones:

2009 The anthology story Sherlock’s Opera appeared in Seattle Noir, edited by Curt Colbert, Akashic Books. Available through Amazon or Barnes and Noble online. Booklist published a favorable review of my contribution to the anthology.
2010 My story, In Memory of the Sibylline, was accepted into the best-selling MWA anthology Crimes by Moonlight, edited by Charlaine Harris. The immortal magician Celwyn makes his first appearance in print.
2018 The story, The Violins Played before Junstan is published in the MWA anthology Odd Partners, edited by Anne Perry. The Celwyn series begins.
Present The full length prequel, The Violins Played before Junstan, to the Celwyn book series is published on Kindle. The companion book, Farm Hall is also published where Pelaez, another immortal magician and Celwyn’s brother, makes his first appearance. The remaining books in the series: Music Shall Untune the Sky, The Raven and the Pig, The Pirate Danced and the Automat Died, will be available beginning in August 2021.

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Finding the Emotion by Barbara Casey – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Barbara Casey will be awarding a $20 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.

Finding the Emotion

Emotional situations in a story often remain with the reader, even long after a book has been read.

The Seraphim’s Song, Book 5 of The F.I.G. Mysteries, takes Dara, Mackenzie, and Jennifer, collectively known as the three FIGs – Females of Intellectual Genius, along with Carolina, their teacher from Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women, to a hidden cave on the Yellow Sea in China. It is there that they must find the secret location of where an ancient artifact – a “key” – must be returned in order for the world to be safe. Natural disasters are occurring all over the world, Carolina is ill, all of them are exhausted as they fumble their way through the dark cave. As rocks and boulders fall around them and the cave starts to collapse, they barely escape only to discover that Jennifer is not with them.

*****

They could hear the vibrating hum of B flat minor, the “aum” sound loud and distinct, clear and pure, no longer off key.

And they could hear the terrifying sound of the stone walls crumbing and the ceiling collapsing from within the inner deep dark depths of the cave and moving closer toward them. Thick choking dust filled the air around them making it almost impossible to breathe or see. “Get out!” shouted Dr. Stanwick. “Run! The cave is collapsing!”

Protecting their heads with their backpacks from the falling rocks, blinded by the thick dust and barely able to breathe, the F.I.G.s ran back the way they had come, toward the entrance, stumbling over broken rocks, pulling Carolina, urging her to hurry, trying to keep her from falling, with Dr. Stanwick right behind them. When they approached the opening of the cave and could see the daylight beyond, Carolina glanced back. The last thing she saw was the crevasse in the stone wall slowly close around the artifact as though to once again conceal it and protect it. The cymatic pattern of the god’s eye was now just a pile of rocks.

Startled by the sudden loud rumble and seeing the thick yellow dust spew from the mouth of the cave, Li Lee quickly got out of the car and rushed toward the noise of falling rocks just as Carolina and the F.I.G.s and Dr. Stanwick exited out of the yellow cloud of darkness and into the bright sunshine. From a safe distance, they watched in stunned silence as huge boulders, uprooted shrubs, small trees, and chunks of yellow clay fell from the outcropping and cliffs above, completely sealing the entrance. Any visible evidence that there was a jinzhi de cave or ever had been was gone—destroyed. All that remained was the thick yellow dust slowly rising and dissipating into the air.

“Jennifer!” Dara looked around. “Where’s Jennifer?” Dara yelled, moving toward the cave. “Oh, no! Jennifer!”

With everything happening, they hadn’t noticed that Jennifer wasn’t with them. Running back to the cave’s entrance, horrified, Carolina, Dara, and Mackenzie screamed for Jennifer as they clawed and heaved and pushed at the heavy stones in desperation, trying to move them out of the way, trying to get back into the cave—trying to save the female of intellectual genius. Knowing it was futile, Dr. Stanwick fell to the ground, gasping for breath and overcome with emotion. Li Lee knelt beside him, his heart breaking over the tragic hopelessness of it all, knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do.

*****

Thank you for inviting me to visit with you and for your interest in my books. I wish you and your bloggers all the best. ~Barbara

Many changes have taken place at Wood Rose Orphanage and Academy for Young Women while Carolina and Larry were on their honeymoon in Frascati, Italy, on the Granchelli farm. The newlyweds have been given a larger bungalow; Ms. Alcott, niece of the founder of Wood Rose, and Mrs. Ball, assistant to the headmaster, have moved into a bungalow together; and Jimmy Bob, caretaker and night watchman at Wood Rose has moved from his family home down the road a bit into a small bungalow on the orphanage property with his hound dog Tick, as well as his new cat and her litter of kittens. Most important, thanks to the persuasive powers of Ms. Alcott and Mrs. Ball, the F.I.G.s have been given a forever home at Wood Rose.

Summer is coming to an end and the F.I.G.s will soon return to the universities to complete their special projects. They are starting to feel anxious, and the coping mechanisms they have used their entire lives are starting to work overtime. Dara’s thoughts turn to an unknown language, possibly from another world; Mackenzie focuses on the relationship of math to music; and Jennifer keeps hearing the note of B flat minor and is drawing dark swirls on her canvas board.

Deadly forces and natural disasters are unleashed into the world when Milosh, the evil young man who placed a curse on Carolina when she searched for her mother, steals an ancient artifact—a “key”—from an archaeological site near Puli, China on the Yellow Sea where he is working. This artifact, when paired with a certain note—B flat minor known as the Seraphim’s song—opens a portal that enables man to communicate with the gods.

When the key gets lost in a storm, Carolina comes into possession of it through Jimmy Bob’s dog, Tick, and when she does, she hears Lyuba, her gypsy mother, tell her that time is running out. The F.I.G.s and Carolina must go to the forbidden cave on the Yellow Sea, the place where the early gypsies are believed to have settled before travelling into Europe. For it is there where the key must be returned before all is destroyed.

About the Author:Originally from Carrollton, Illinois, author/agent/publisher Barbara Casey attended the University of North Carolina, N.C. State University, and N.C. Wesleyan College where she received a BA degree, summa cum laude, with a double major in English and history. In 1978 she left her position as Director of Public Relations and Vice President of Development at North Carolina Wesleyan College to write full time and develop her own manuscript evaluation and editorial service. In 1995 she established the Barbara Casey Agency and since that time has represented authors from the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Japan. In 2014, she became a partner with Strategic Media Books, an independent nonfiction publisher of true crime, where she oversees acquisitions, day-to-day operations, and book production.

Barbara has written over a dozen award-winning books of fiction and nonfiction for both young adults and adults. The awards include the National Association of University Women Literary Award, the Sir Walter Raleigh Literary Award, the Independent Publisher Book Award, the Dana Award for Outstanding Novel, the IP Best Book for Regional Fiction, among others. Several of her books have been optioned for major films and television.

Her award-winning articles, short stories, and poetry for adults have appeared in both national and international publications including the North Carolina Christian Advocate Magazine, The New East Magazine, the Raleigh (N.C.) News and Observer, the Rocky Mount (N.C.) Sunday Telegram, Dog Fancy, ByLine, The Christian Record, Skirt! Magazine, and True Story. A thirty-minute television special which Barbara wrote and coordinated was broadcast on WRAL, Channel 5, in Raleigh, North Carolina. She also received special recognition for her editorial work on the English translations of Albanian children’s stories. Her award-winning science fiction short stories for adults are featured in The Cosmic Unicorn and CrossTime science fiction anthologies. Barbara’s essays and other works appear in The Chrysalis Reader, the international literary journal of the Swedenborg Foundation, 221 One-Minute Monologues from Literature (Smith and Kraus Publishers), and A Cup of Comfort (Adams Media Corporation).

Barbara is a former director of BookFest of the Palm Beaches, Florida, where she served as guest author and panelist. She has served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003. In 2018 Barbara received the prestigious Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award and Top Professional Award for her extensive experience and notable accomplishments in the field of publishing and other areas. She makes her home on the top of a mountain in northwest Georgia with three cats who adopted her, Homer – a Southern coon cat, Reese – a black cat, and Earl Gray – a gray cat and Reese’s best friend.

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How to Handle Negative Criticism by Jeanette Watts – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jeanette Watts will be awarding a crazy quilt tea cosy to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

How to handle negative criticism

I have met quite a few authors who are terrified of negative reviews and/or criticism. A negative critique is a rejection of them personally, and this is devastating to their soul.

Being a writer is going to require a thicker skin than that.

There is nothing on this earth that is liked by absolutely everyone. Black licorice? I love it. Easter is great, I get ALL the black jelly beans. Carrots? Who doesn’t love carrots? Well, me. More for everybody else. You can have my share. Spicy food? There’s a reason restaurants have sliding scales of spice levels.

Tastes in reading are no different. I don’t read horror stories. I don’t read crime novels. I don’t even read science fiction anymore. And most people don’t read the kinds of historical biographies that I gobble up.

The first time I got a bad review on my first book, I laughed with glee! The writer of the review didn’t like my main character, the one that everybody else was in love with. This guy reacted differently, probably due to his own personal experiences, and did not approve of some of the very behaviors other people found justifiable. In real life, no one is universally liked by everyone. I had just succeeded in writing into existence a person that is true to real life.

There IS a difference between reading tastes, and suggestions on improving your writing. That reviewer’s opinion was about my character. It wasn’t that I did a poor job fleshing out the character, he just didn’t like the fact that I had taken the romance novel trope of woman marrying a man she doesn’t love, and then falling in love with him by the end, and turning it on its ear. My hero is forced to get married. And he doesn’t fall in love with her. Not even close. Some people don’t WANT their tropes twisted out of shape. That’s a matter of taste, and that’s fine.
Good suggestions on improving your writing, however, is not a time for laughter and dismissal. That’s the time to be listening. Negative criticism, at least when it’s not just people being a jerk, is not to make you feel bad about yourself. It makes you a better writer.

I do not use a professional editor, because I am surrounded by a lot of friends who are all wicked smart. Smarter than me. And they love me enough to NOT let me publish something and make a fool of myself, so when I give them a copy of the manuscript and a red pen, and I am trusting them to not let me make a fool of myself, they really use the red pens if needed. After the first ten pairs of eyes, there’s usually not much left to correct. The next ten pairs of eyes mostly find the typos. Inevitably, some error manages to evade absolutely everyone, and I cringe when I find it a year later.

The tricky part is knowing the difference of when to listen to the criticism, and when to ignore it. That requires a bit of a thick skin, and some trust in yourself, and some trust in others.

How much would you gamble for true love? Jane Fairfax dreaded her future as a governess. But genteel solitude seemed her fate. Then handsome, charming, rich Frank Churchill asked to marry her – IF his rich aunt agreed. If their secret engagement was discovered, Jane would be ruined. Frank seemed worth the risk; but the stakes got higher when the aunt refused her consent!

Enjoy an Excerpt

Mr Churchill caught the end of one of the long ribbons from her bonnet, which were flying madly in the strong breeze. He toyed with it for a long while, then looked up into her eyes. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked.

“No, I don’t suppose I do,” Jane answered. Her heart started beating harder. That was a lie. Maybe her breath was catching in her throat because she was lying: she fell in love with him the moment she saw him, rescuing the poor store clerk. Or maybe it was because he was standing so close to her, just on the other end of her bonnet ribbon. She felt her cheeks growing warm, and tried to talk herself out of blushing. He was not standing any closer to her than when they danced together, or sat on the same bench at the pianoforte. Why should it fluster her that he was wrapping the end of her bonnet ribbon around his fingers like that?

“Neither did I.” He tied a knot into the very end of the ribbon, then caught the other flying ribbon, and did the same to its end. “I thought love requires mutual respect and understanding, and complementary temperaments that can only be discovered with a judicious application of time and conversation.”

Jane hid her trembling hands inside her muff. She wished there was a way to hide the fact that she was trembling all over. “I understood you from the first moment I saw you,” she admitted, her voice little more than a whisper.

About the AuthorJeanette Watts has written three Jane Austen-inpsired novels, two other works of historical fiction, stage melodramas, television commercials, and humorous essays for Kindle Vella.

When she is not writing, she is either dancing, sewing, or walking around in costume at a Renaissance festival talking in a funny accent and offering to find new ladies’ maids for everyone she finds in fashionably-ripped jeans.

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