Because of my busy life I am consolidating my blogs to one- this blog will be moving to my Creatively Green blog- which will now be The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom.
There you will now find- green product and book reviews, crafts, gardening ideas, recipes and all kinds of writing advice and guest blogs from authors.
It will have a little bit of everything.
So be sure to change yur bookmarks and follow me over to Creatively Green.
Thanks,
Wenona
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Call for Submissions: Sinister Seductions-Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly
“Sinister Seductions”
Open Call for Anthology Submissions
Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing
Release Date: October 2012
Sinister Seductions is an anthology of paranormal romance stories edited by Roxanne Rhoads .
This collection will consist of paranormal dark desires and supernaturally seductive tales of all things sinister and scary – think vampires, werewolves, demons, witches, and ghosts.
Please no angels or anything similar, those stories will be covered in the Seraphic Encounters antho.The Anthology will be for the Paranormal Romance adult fan base, please no YA stories.
All romantic heat levels accepted from softly romantic to hot and steamy.
Roxanne is looking for unique takes and edgy twists on popular paranormal characters- give me something new, dark, delicious, and sexy. She's not looking for the common vampire meets human, bites and has sex with human and falls in love story- give her something she's not expecting, something new and delightfullydark.
Stories containing the following will NOT be considered: INCEST, BESTIALITY (SHIFTER OK), RAPE/RAPE FOR TITILLATION, PEDOPHILIA
This anthology will pay NO royalties as a contract will state.
You will retain the rights to your story. CHBB will ask for exclusivity of the story for one year. Other rights we are requiring via contract are First Publishing Rights, the right to use the story for as long as there is demand for the book, the right to edit each story for missed or grammatical errors, and the right to use parts of the book and/or the author’s name for promotion. This would only be for the anthology and not any other books we may publish of yours. The author will receive two copies of the anthology, the PDF file, as well as a discount code for personal orders via Amazon.
To Submit:
Please send submissions to RoxanneRhoads@crushingheartsandblackbutterfly.com
Send your story as an attachment with the following guidelines:
Each story will consist of a minimum of 3,000 words no more than 10k. Each work must be submitted as a .doc or .docx file.
The font must be 12pt Times New Roman, 1.5 line spacing, .5 first line indents
Writers may submit more than one story but not more than one work will be included if the writer is selected.
CHBB is asking for fresh and ORIGINAL stories. Current and Previously published stories will NOT be accepted (including self-published works i.e. Smashwords, Amazon, and BN).
The deadline for submission is May 31, 2012. Please allow three to four weeks from the deadline before inquiring on your status. We will try to notify everyone promptly.
Be sure to write “Submission” in the subject line along with your title. In the body of the email, include the title of your story along with your real name, and pen name (if applicable) and your contact info.
We look forward to hearing from you and good luck!
Monday, December 12, 2011
An Excerpt from The Opera by Michelle Franklin
An excerpt from The Opera
Upon reaching the keep’s kitchen, the commander found Alasdair sitting at the table with his early evening tea, reading over his proclamations for the day. He seemed equanimity itself now that his presiding in the royal courts for the day had done; leaning back in his favourite chair, with half a glance toward the yard and half toward his papers, his hand in mid-ascension, the teacup pressed against his lips, expecting to be soothed by his first sip of lemon soother, when the advertisement was thrust before him, causing him to replace his cup upon the table and investigate the announcement directly.
“Oh, this looks brilliant,” Alasdair declared smilingly. “Is this about us?”
“I daresay it is,” the commander said, pointing to the title of the opera, “although I’m hardly recognizable.”
“Well, I can tell it’s you by the . . .” Alasdair made a suggestive gesture toward her chest and left his assertion there, returning his gaze to the poster while a small blush crept up his cheek.
“Those are far too small to be mine.”
The size and shape of her magnanimous proportions could be compared, but Alasdair would not look again; he would not be suspected of gawping for pleasure nor would his gentlemanly sensibilities allow him to be baited so easily. “I suppose you’re right,” he said quickly, keeping his gaze firmly upon the advertisement. He seemed bemused, and pointing to the heroic figure in the piece said, “Is that meant to be me on that white horse?”
“And I do believe that’s meant to be Maeve.”
Alasdair raised a brow. “She would be disappointed.”
“As she should be. What chestnut mare wants to be a white stallion?”
“And she certainly isn’t that . . .” fat was what he wished to say, but at that moment, Martje had trundled in from the larder and Alasdair was forced to check himself. He said a polite hello and his features flushed with colour to think he had almost said the forbidden word in the plump cook’s presence. “I look very well, though,” he said cheerfully. “My hair is tidy and my jerkin looks very fitting. Those breeches, though, don’t go well with those boots. It would have been better to match them with calfskin boots, not these impossible things. Who would wear boots that low when riding? The fabric would chafe, surely.”
The commander laughed and shook her head. “Is that all your worry?”
“Yes, I think so,” he said with stout confidence. He took a moment to regard the remainder of the piece and then decided, “Well, Rautu looks accurate, doesn’t he.”
“You are too horrid,” she said with a sagacious smile.
“I’m allowed to say what I want when he’s not here.”
“You know that he has eyes and ears in every corner of this keep and yet you would ridicule him. You are all bravery, Alasdair.”
“If he can say whatever he wants to my face, then I think I might be allowed to admire his portrait before demands to kill the illustrator.” Alasdair made a defensive humph and began folding the poster. “Has he seen it yet?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll send the herald to the theatre with the instruction that everyone involved with this production is to leave the capital immediately.”
“You are the epitome of charity, Alasdair, in giving them such a warning, but I daresay he shall hunt them down and skin them regardless. Will you allow this opera to be performed even though you know its content to be possibly disparaging?”
Alasdair made an abashed smile and took a last peek at the depiction of himself. “I wonder if they’ll have me kill Rautu in a terrific duel or if I’ll merely sing him to death.”
“You know the powers of the Frewyn Players and their ability to depict historical events with perfect accuracy.”
It was said with such wryness that Alasdair was forced to agree with her; the portrayal of Mad Queen Maeve, though highly entertaining, could hardly be supposed a truthful display when all of Frewyn was aware that her end came from her insanity and not from the edge of an envious lover’s knife as the play might have the uninformed believe. They laughed and sighed, both of them in equal dread and anticipation of what such a piece could depict, and stood from the kitchen table, the commander desirous of telling her mate before he could find out from another quarter and Alasdair wanting to visit the tailor.
The Opera Tales from FrewynBy Michelle Franklin
Blurb:
When due homage is paid to the heroes of Frewyn, what could possibly go wrong?
The Frewyn Players at the Royal Theatre in Diras are looking for new material to perform when a famous director from Marridon arrives to impart a Marridon theatrical pastime that is certain to make them famous. An opera will be their new performance, one that glorifies Frewyn's greatest heroes, but what begins as homage ends as mockery, and the play that would make them the greatest exhibition in Frewyn might instead make them the Den Asaan's most merited enemy.
Book on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-from-Frewyn-The-Opera-ebook/dp/B005TL7QMA
Book on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/94632
Twitter: @MrsDenAsaan & @DenAsaan
Haanta Series site: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/94632
Book on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/94632
Twitter: @MrsDenAsaan & @DenAsaan
Haanta Series site: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/94632
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
An Excerpt from When Copper Suns Fall: a YA Dark Urban Fantasy
By KaSonndra Leigh
No, a mysterious thing stirred behind his silvery-gray eyes.
“Feel better, Chela?” he asked. I nodded.
“Thanks for helping me,” I said, still fighting a light head. Still afraid the dreaded black blobs lingered somewhere around us. Somewhat ashamed I’d spoken so horribly to him moments ago.
“You probably shouldn’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Thank me.”
“Why? Because I caught you using alchemy? That’s what your kind does. Make magic in the shadows, right?” I said.
His left eye ticked. The girl in the hoodie had called him a Caducean. Could it be possible? Father told me Caduceans were a mythical group—demon slayers from a time long gone. Yet, here I stood with a boy who didn’t deny my claim.
Around us, fewer people were leaving the Shack. They paid no attention to the two idiots standing and staring at each other. Did Jalen and Lexa make it out safely? They were taking forever to reach me.
Did I really want them to find me?
“They’ll call me, now, and make me a witness against you. I’m sorry, but I already have too many problems. So I—I have to tell the truth,” I said.
“That won’t be a problem.” Faris smiled, a catchy one that lit his face up. I couldn’t decide whether it was angelic or downright wicked. Just like I couldn’t remember where I’d ever heard an accent like his. What kind was it? Old southern? Old English? Irish? It sounded like a mix of all three, but with a deep timbre, making him sound god like. “In a few minutes, you won’t remember me or any of this.”
“Really? How do you figure that?” I asked, heart racing.
“Because my gift to you…” He moved his face closer to mine, pulling me into whatever was happening in his head. “My gift is to remove memories that cause you pain.”
“Okay, um, right.” Had I lost my mind? It probably wouldn’t have hurt to scream.
He held my gaze, locking me into something I couldn’t explain. A tear puckered up in his left eye, and slid down his cheek where it stopped on his top lip. Then he blinked, snapping us out of whatever place he’d taken us to, and glanced behind my head. “Here comes your dark knight,” he said, easing his arms away from me.
He strolled off into the last group of stragglers hanging around the Shack. How did he know my nickname for Jalen?
I wiped away a tear rolling down my right cheek.
“Chela, there you are. You scared me, girl.” Jalen’s voice cut into the moment. He spun me around to face him. I blinked, clearing my eyes. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?”
I glanced around us. The boy was gone. A dull headache joined the fuzziness in my head. Lost inside a clouded mind, I forgot what I wanted to say. The entire night’s events were hazy.
I fumbled with my thoughts.
What happened to me in there?
Mother/Game/Writer
Lissette E. Manning
JeanzBookReadNReview
Mad Moose Mama
Read2Review
Keeping Up With The Rheinlander's
ReaderGirls
The Write at Home Mom
Fang-tastic Books
Cece Reads and Writes
Lisa’s World of Books
When Copper Suns FallYA Dark Urban Fantasy
By KaSonndra Leigh
In fifteen-year-old Chela Prizeon’s city, alchemy is forbidden, and angels hide among the mortal. With a deadly virus ravaging the globe, Chela’s nightmarish memories compels her to experience a past riddled with gloom, and now her brother is infected.
Chela’s only hope is the Caduceans, slayers sworn to protect the last seven Light Keepers and the ancient memories they share. A group led by the sometimes elusive, sometimes infuriating boy who intrigues Chela. But can she trust this boy with the mysterious past, someone who can influence her memories?
With the Caduceans aid, Chela races to defeat her rivals, to unearth dark family secrets, desperate to find a cure…only to discover the glutovirus is far more than a simple disease.
In this haunting debut, KaSonndra Leigh offers an escape into a world as intriguing as The Mortal Instruments and a story as chilling as Enclave. Full of celestial creatures, fascinating villainy, high-stake choices, and a secret romance, When Copper Suns Fall, is a fresh and original urban fantasy—with a dystopian twist—that will take readers on an unforgettable adventure.
About the Author:
KaSonndra Leigh lives in the City of Alchemy and Medicine, North Carolina. She likes to write about teens doing fantastical things in magical worlds. Her two sons have made her promise to write a boy book next.
She holds the MFA in creative writing, and loves to play CLUE, Monopoly (the Indiana Jones version), and Pandora’s Box (good writer’s block therapy). She lives in an L-shaped house with a garden dedicated to her grandmother. It has a secret library complete with fairies, Venetian plastered walls, and a desk made out of clear blue glass.
When Copper Suns Fall is her debut novel.
http://www.kasonndraleigh.com/
http://twitter.com/#!/kasonndraleigh
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5137209.KaSonndra_Leigh
http://www.facebook.com/pages/When-Copper-Suns-Fall-by-KaSonndra-Leigh/111665822268673
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Have book will travel -a guest blog by Michelle Beattie
Have book will travel -a guest blog by Michelle Beattie
I don't read to "travel" to exotic or never-been-to-before places. I usually grab a book based on a) partly it's cover, b) it's back blurb and c) if it's a favorite author. Still, I have to say that if I enjoy a story AND it's taken me someplace I've never been, I feel like I've travelled, in some small way, away from home.
Through books I've been swept to a Caribbean island, a mountain ski resort and the Florida Everglades. I've "been" to Vermont, New Jersey, Texas, New Orleans, the Chesapeake Bay. I feel as though I've felt the icy chill of an Alaskan blizzard, felt the humidity of Louisiana and bounced along a rutted road in a stagecoach.
What a treat it is to lose yourself in a book, to be taken on an emotional as well as a physical journey.
I live in Alberta, Canada. I have two daughters and my husband has his own business. We don't travel much and, frankly, some of the settings I've read about aren't really on my radar anytime soon. However, BECAUSE I've read about them, I am now more interested in seeing them than I was before.
So, readers, is there a book/location that so captivated you in a book you've since gone there yourself or are planning a trip to go see?
I don't read to "travel" to exotic or never-been-to-before places. I usually grab a book based on a) partly it's cover, b) it's back blurb and c) if it's a favorite author. Still, I have to say that if I enjoy a story AND it's taken me someplace I've never been, I feel like I've travelled, in some small way, away from home.
Through books I've been swept to a Caribbean island, a mountain ski resort and the Florida Everglades. I've "been" to Vermont, New Jersey, Texas, New Orleans, the Chesapeake Bay. I feel as though I've felt the icy chill of an Alaskan blizzard, felt the humidity of Louisiana and bounced along a rutted road in a stagecoach.
What a treat it is to lose yourself in a book, to be taken on an emotional as well as a physical journey.
I live in Alberta, Canada. I have two daughters and my husband has his own business. We don't travel much and, frankly, some of the settings I've read about aren't really on my radar anytime soon. However, BECAUSE I've read about them, I am now more interested in seeing them than I was before.
So, readers, is there a book/location that so captivated you in a book you've since gone there yourself or are planning a trip to go see?
I don't read to "travel" to exotic or never-been-to-before places. I usually grab a book based on a) partly it's cover, b) it's back blurb and c) if it's a favorite author. Still, I have to say that if I enjoy a story AND it's taken me someplace I've never been, I feel like I've travelled, in some small way, away from home.
Through books I've been swept to a Caribbean island, a mountain ski resort and the Florida Everglades. I've "been" to Vermont, New Jersey, Texas, New Orleans, the Chesapeake Bay. I feel as though I've felt the icy chill of an Alaskan blizzard, felt the humidity of Louisiana and bounced along a rutted road in a stagecoach.
What a treat it is to lose yourself in a book, to be taken on an emotional as well as a physical journey.
I live in Alberta, Canada. I have two daughters and my husband has his own business. We don't travel much and, frankly, some of the settings I've read about aren't really on my radar anytime soon. However, BECAUSE I've read about them, I am now more interested in seeing them than I was before.
So, readers, is there a book/location that so captivated you in a book you've since gone there yourself or are planning a trip to go see?
I don't read to "travel" to exotic or never-been-to-before places. I usually grab a book based on a) partly it's cover, b) it's back blurb and c) if it's a favorite author. Still, I have to say that if I enjoy a story AND it's taken me someplace I've never been, I feel like I've travelled, in some small way, away from home.
Through books I've been swept to a Caribbean island, a mountain ski resort and the Florida Everglades. I've "been" to Vermont, New Jersey, Texas, New Orleans, the Chesapeake Bay. I feel as though I've felt the icy chill of an Alaskan blizzard, felt the humidity of Louisiana and bounced along a rutted road in a stagecoach.
What a treat it is to lose yourself in a book, to be taken on an emotional as well as a physical journey.
I live in Alberta, Canada. I have two daughters and my husband has his own business. We don't travel much and, frankly, some of the settings I've read about aren't really on my radar anytime soon. However, BECAUSE I've read about them, I am now more interested in seeing them than I was before.
So, readers, is there a book/location that so captivated you in a book you've since gone there yourself or are planning a trip to go see?
Nov 28 Tour Kick Off- Guest Blog
Roxanne’s Realm
Nov 28 Promo
All the days of
Nov 29 Guest Blog
The Write at Home Mom
Nov 30 Guest Blog
Flutey Words
Dec 1 Guest Blog
Mila Ramos
Dec 2 Guest Blog and review
A Chick Who Reads
Dec 3 promo
Fang-tastic Books
Dec 3 Interview and review
Dec 4 Guest blog and review
For The Love of Reading
Dec 5 Promo
Cocktails and Books
Dec 6 Promo Spot
DEEP IN THE HEART ROMANCE
Another ChanceBy Michelle Beatti
Being a veterinarian in the late 1800’s is difficult enough, but for Jillian Matthews it’s impossible. Not allowed in the vet schools, she trained at her father’s side until she had the skills needed to move west. Jillian accepts an advertisement for a position in Montana, using only her initials which happen to be same as her father’s. Convinced that in the untamed west, her skills will be valued and appreciated, regardless of her gender, she’s quickly proved wrong.
Wade Parker is sure the pretty redhead claiming to be the vet he sent for is one of his ranch hands’ practical jokes but the fiery woman very quickly puts him in his place and proves him wrong. His impression, however, turns south when the animal she operated on later dies. With a ranch on the verge of bankruptcy, losing an animal was the last thing he could afford and he can’t help thinking the old vet, the male doctor, wouldn’t have let his animal die.
With Wade’s initial reaction guiding them, the town is quick to want Jillian out. But the more Wade gets to know Jillian, the more he sees her grit and compassion, the harder he falls for her. When Wade realizes he was too hasty in his judgment and urges the town to give Jillian another chance, he makes more than few enemies. Enemies that would do almost anything to get her out, and to make sure Wade doesn’t take her side again.
Soon threats turn to violence and both Wade and Jillian must make a stand. The problem is, at what cost?
About the Author: Michelle Beattie has been writing for 16 years. Her first pirate novel was released in December 2008 under the title, What a Pirate Desires. Since then she added two more to her series, Romancing the Pirate and A Pirate's Possession.
Changing gears a bit, Michelle has decided to follow the growing trend of published authors independently publishing their own books. She released her first independent title, a contemporary light paranormal, Love By Accident, in October and is following it up with a historical western, Another Chance.
Her pirate books have received wonderful praise from publisher's weekly, Romantic Times and several on-line review sites as well as have been published in several languages. Love By Accident hit #14 in ghosts on Amazon's site on its release day.
Michelle lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband, two daughters and a rabbit.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Cyber Monday Giveaway
In the prize packs:
A print copy of 2MOS
A canvas bag
A Pavarti T-Shirt
A copy of Hush Hush in one Fallen in the other
Shadow on the Wall Collectible Magnet
Shadow on the Wall Note Cards
Fighting Monkey Press Note Pad
Shadow on the Wall promotional post card
2 prize packs (photos above) and 5 ebook copies of Two Moons of Sera are being given away
Physical prize packs open to US Shipping Only
Fill out the form here or below
Two Moons of SeraBy Pavarti K TylerTwo Moons of Sera Synopsis:
In a world where water and earth teem with life, Serafay is an anomaly. The result of genetic experiments on her mother's water-borne line Serafay will have to face the very people responsible to discover who she really is.
But is she the only one?
YouTube Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/24coIZ96Qlg
Get the book at Amazon and Smashwords
Two Moons Music Playlist:
About the Author:
Pavarti K Tyler is an artist, wife, mother and number-cruncher who has been committed to causing trouble since her first moment on this Earth. Her eclectic career has flirted with Broadway, Teaching, Law Firms and the IRS. Author of many short stories, Pavarti spans genres from Horror and Erotica all the way to Fantasy. Currently Pavarti is hard at work establishing her Indie Publishing Company Fighting Monkey Press.
Pavarti K Tyler's novel Two Moons of Sera is a Fantasy/Romance and will be released in a serial format beginning this fall. Her next novel Shadow on the Wall is scheduled for release in early 2012. Shadow on the Wall is Book One of The SandStorm Chronicles, the saga of Recai Osman — businessman, philosopher, Muslim and . . . superhero.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Guest Blog and $50 Gift Card Giveaway with Natasha Larry
How I Write Young Adult-Paranormal FictionSharpies, Fumes and Silly Typos
All writers have some weird writing quirk they can’t build their world without. I mentioned recently in an interview that I happen to write my first draft in sharpie marker. I won’t mention a fellow young adult/paranormal author that makes front of me for doing this. I mean, is writing in sharpie marker really so much different than writing with scissors and note cards K.C. Neal? ;) Tee hee.
Anyway, I do write in sharpie markers and I can’t seem to stop myself. My publisher learned this and told me I should probably find a method of writing that would avoid as many typos as possible. Oh, did I fail to mention that I also write all of my books out on paper first? Yes, without an outline. I don’t always do it in chronological order either.
I tried to stop! To be a big girl author, sit down at my computer and write books like serious writers should. Yeah, it was an epic fail. I can’t see the world I’m trying to put down on paper while looking at a computer screen. I’m writing the first draft of this guest blog on a computer, and you can see… there are no dangerous telekinetics or anything else made up. So, I use my sharpie method to write the Darwin’s Children books. What is the sharpie method, you ask?
Well, sometimes if I’m writing out a nice action scene I do so in red. I also tend to forget I can’t draw and write out words like, BOOM and POW. For most other things my choice of sharpie color is green or dark blue. For the scenes I hate writing- the ones that rip your heart out like the Haylee scene in the first book, or the emotional scene with Matt and his mother in the second book, I use black. It’s a big black marker of shame, and the fumes tend to make me dizzy. When Alonzo Sanchez was added to the series I happened to be writing in a violet marker.
Is it a little stupid? Yes, but it works for me. Am I a little nutty? Clearly. I don’t know much about the best way to go about writing a novel other than this. I do take it very seriously. As seriously as any writer with an outline and software. Whether you write in sharpie or hammer into rocks, I think the goal is the same: to get the story out of your head and onto paper, and to do so in a way that the final product will be more than words on paper. I write in sharpie to make this world real to the reader.
Ssssh, don’t tell my publisher. Now, I do have issues with typos and, sometimes, they are actually quite funny. It happens a lot when sharpies bleed through paper and your handwriting is already atrocious. Enjoy!
Three of the Best Typos from the Darwin’s Children Series
From Unnatural Law: Matt heard her shark intake of breathe. Hmmm….
From Unnatural Law: Allison got up quickly and dressed slowly.
And the best, from the third book- not yet titled, and undergoing violent revision. This is my favorite because I have no idea what happened here.
“All of the grew skin pale their eyes. Washed in silver light, their hair grew long and became as white as their skin.”
Yeah, maybe the fumes are an issue.
Unnatural Law Blurbby Natasha Larry
Fantasy / Young-Adult
Book 2 Darwin’s Children Series
Seventeen-year-old Jaycie Lerner’s psycho-kinetic power surge is over, and her astounding powers are under control for the time being – sort of. As she struggles to maintain her humanity in the face of the awesome terror and responsibility of her abilities, she also yearns for the chance at a normal life – and a relationship with Matt Carter, the best friend she had to leave behind. But Matt’s got a few tricks up his sleeve, and he’s not about to give up on his feelings for Jaycie.
As Jaycie and her family grapple with the day-to-day routine of trying to keep their world together, Jaycie’s mother figure, Allison Young, endures a personal crisis of her own. The superhuman blonde possesses the physical equivalent of Jaycie’s awesome psychic power.
So evolved, at ninety-two she still looks twenty. But what good is extended life when everyone else around her is so fragile? With no one to share her unusual life, she’s a uniquely lonely woman yearning for the romantic love she sees all around her. But in a dream she gets her wish – and it quickly turns to a nightmare for everyone else in her life. The memory of a rose is all she can hold onto in the storm of obsession that nearly sweeps her away.
Things quickly turn deadly for the vampires, but the Dey-Vah Guard fairies refuse to acknowledge there’s an imbalance in the nature they protect. As the danger gets ever closer to Jaycie and her family, the race is on to find answers before a secret plot can destroy them
Author BioNatasha Larry resides in Huntsville, Alabama with her daughter and fiancé. She graduated from Tusculum College with a B.A. in History and is currently working on getting her certificate in education. Apart from writing, she is a self-proclaimed comic book nerd and urban fantasy junkie. Her poetry and short fiction has appeared in publications such as Writing Edge magazine and Escaping Elsewhere. Darwin’s Children is her first work of novel length fiction.
Author Web Site:
http://www.paranormalwire.blogspot.com/
http://natashalarrybooks.com/
Books by Natasha Larry
Darwin's Children ( Book 1 of Series: Darwin's Children )
Unnatural Law Book 2 Darwin’s Children Series
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Darwins-Children-Series/145755472156223
Twitter: @natashalarry
Giveaway Time
one grand prize winner at the end of the Unnatural Law tour will win a $50 Gift card to the retailer of their choice and a signed print set of both books- Darwin's Children Children and Unnatural Law
Open to US residents only
Void where prohibited
To enter fill out this form
Monday, November 7, 2011
In Leah's Wake Virtual Book Tour Stop
Just Do ItSeptember
Zoe and Will Tyler sat at the dining room table, playing poker. The table, a nineteenth-century, hand-carved mahogany, faced the bay window overlooking their sprawling front yard. Husband and wife sat facing one another, a bowl of Tostitos and a half-empty bottle of port positioned between them. Their favorite Van Morrison disc—Tupelo Honey—spun on the player in the family room, the music drifting out of speakers built into the dining room walls.
Dog, their old yellow Lab, lay on a ratty pink baby blanket, under the window.
Zoe plucked the Queen of Hearts from the outside of her hand, and tucked it center. She was holding a straight. If she laid it down, she would win the hand, third in a row, and her husband would quit. If she didn’t, she would be cheating herself.
The moon was full tonight, its light casting a ghostly shadow across the yard. The full moon made Zoe anxious. For one of her internships in grad school, she’d worked on the psych ward at City Hospital, in Boston. On nights when the moon was full, the floor erupted, the patients noisy, agitated. Zoe’s superiors had pooh-poohed the lunar effect, chalked it up to irrationality, superstition. But Zoe had witnessed the flaring tempers, seen the commotion with her own two eyes, and found the effect impossible to deny—and nearly all the nurses concurred.
“Full moon,” she said. “I hadn’t noticed. No wonder I had trouble sleeping last night.”
Will set his empty glass on the table. With his fingers, he drummed an impatient tattoo. “You planning to take your turn any time soon? Be nice if we ended this game before midnight.”
“For Pete’s sake, Will.” Her husband had the attention span of a titmouse. He reminded her of Mick, a six year-old ADD patient she counseled—sweet kid, when he wasn’t ransacking her office, tossing the sand out of the turtle-shaped box, tweaking her African violets.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, sulking.
She shook her head—nothing, Mick—and forced a straight face.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Don’t be silly. Why would I be laughing at you?”
He peered at his reflection in the window. Smirking, he finger-combed his baby-fine hair, pale, graying at the temples, carving a mini-pyramid at his crown.
“Nice do. Could use a little more gel,” she said, feeling mean-spirited the instant the words slipped out of her mouth. The poor guy was exhausted. He’d spent the week in California, on business, had flown into Logan this morning, on the red-eye. Though he had yet to fill her in on the details, it was obvious to her that his trip had not gone well. “Sorry,” she said. “Just kidding.” She fanned out her cards, hesitated for an instant, and laid down the straight.
“Congratulations.” Scowling, he pushed away from the table. “You win again.”
“Way to go, grumpy. Quit.”
“I’m getting water,” he said, tamping his hair. “Want some?”
Dog lifted her head, her gaze following Will to the door, yawned, and settled back down.
Her husband stomped across the kitchen, his footfall moving in the direction of the family room. The music stopped abruptly, and the opening chords of a Robbie Robertson tune belted out of the speakers. Zoe loved Robbie Robertson, “Showdown at Big Sky” one of her favorite songs.
That didn’t mean that the entire state of Massachusetts wanted to hear it.
“Will,” she said, gesturing from the kitchen. “Turn it down. You’ll wake Justine.”
She waited a few seconds, caught his eye, gestured again. The third time was the charm.
Exasperated, she returned to the dining room, bundled the cards, put them away in the sideboard, and gathered the dishes. The toilet flushed in the half-bath off the back hall. Seconds later, she heard her husband rattling around the kitchen, slamming the cabinet doors. Last spring, Will had won a major contract for his company, North American Construction. Since then, he’d been back and forth nonstop to the West Coast, spending two weeks a month in San Francisco, servicing the client. Zoe hadn’t minded his traveling, at first. Over the past two years, with the glut of office and manufacturing space in the northeast, construction starts had dropped, and his sales had taken a serious hit, his commissions steadily dwindling. To compensate, initially they’d relied on their savings. In January, they’d remortgaged the house. When the California job arose, Will had jumped on the opportunity. He had no choice, especially with Leah headed to college next year. But the situation, lately, was brutal. Will hated traveling, hated flying, hated living out of a suitcase. And he resented missing Leah’s soccer games. Last November, as a sophomore, their daughter had been named Player of the Year on the Boston Globe All-Scholastic team. A week later, in his year-end summary, the sports reporter from the Cortland Gazette had called Leah the “best soccer player in the state.” The head coaches from the top colleges in the area—Harvard, Dartmouth, Boston College, BU—had sent congratulatory letters, expressing their interest. Will wanted to be home to guide her, meet the prospective coaches, help her sort through her options. Zoe didn’t blame her husband a bit. But it didn’t seem to occur to Will that his traveling disrupted her life, too. Last year, she’d developed a motivational seminar, called “Success Skills for Women on the Move.” Now that the girls were practically grown, the workshops were her babies. The extra workload at home, added to the demands of her fulltime job at the counseling center, left her with no time for marketing or promotion, and the workshops had stagnated. Zoe understood her husband’s frustration. It irked her when he minimized hers.
Will appeared in the doorway, a few minutes later, empty-handed. Will was tall, a hair shy of six-one. He’d played football in college, and, at forty-five, still had the broad shoulders and narrow waist of an athlete. Amazing, really: after eighteen years of marriage, she still found him achingly sexy. Crow’s feet creased the corners of his intelligent blue eyes and fine lines etched his cheekbones, giving his boyish features a look of intensity and purpose, qualities Zoe had recognized from the start but that only now, as he was aging, showed on his face.
After work, he’d changed into a pair of stonewashed jeans and a gray sweatshirt, worn soft, the words “Harvard Soccer Camp” screened in maroon lettering across the chest. Absently, he pushed up his sleeves, and peered around the room as though looking for something. “Zoe—”
Normally, he called her Honey or Zo.
“I put the cards away.” She thumbed the sideboard. “You quit, remember?”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
She glanced at the cuckoo clock on the far wall. “Ten past eleven. So?”
“Where’s Leah?”
At the football game, with Cissy. “They’ve been going every week. Did you forget?”
“She ought to be home by now.”
“She’s only ten minutes late.” Their daughter was a junior in high school. They’d agreed, before school started this year, to extend her weekend curfew to eleven. “She’ll be here soon.”
Will stalked to the window, grumbling. Dog rose, and pressed her nose to the glass.
Their driveway, half the length of a soccer field, sloped down from the cul-de-sac, arced around the lawn, and straightened, ending in a turnaround at the foot of their three-car garage. In summer, the oak and birch trees bordering the property obscured their view. Now that most of the leaves had fallen, the headlights were visible as vehicles entered the circle.
“She has a game in the morning.” Will stretched his neck . His upper back had been bothering him lately, residual pain from an old football injury he’d suffered in college.
Zoe came up behind him, pushing Dog’s blanket aside with her foot, and squeezed his shoulders.
“You’re tight.”
He dropped his chin. “From sleeping on the plane. Got to get one of those donut pillows.”
“You know Leah. She has no sense of time. I’ll bet they stopped for something to eat.”
“I can’t see why Hillary won’t set a curfew. Every other coach has one.”
“Relax, Will. It’s not that late. You’re blowing this out of proportion. Don’t you think?”
A flash of headlights caught their attention. An SUV entered the cul-de-sac, rounded the circle, its lights sweeping over the drive and across their lawn, and headed down the street.
Bending, Will ruffled Dog’s ears. “Reardon’s coming tomorrow, specifically to watch her. She plays like crap when she’s tired.”
The Harvard coach. She should have known. “So she doesn’t go to Harvard,” she said, a tired remark, fully aware of the comeback her words would elicit, “she’ll go someplace else.”
“There is no place else.”
No place that would give her the opportunities, the connections… blah, blah, blah. They’d been over this a million times. If their daughter had the slightest aspiration of going to Harvard, Zoe would do everything in her power to support her. As far as she could tell, the name Harvard had never graced Leah’s wish-list. It was a moot point, anyway. For the last two terms, Leah’s grades had been dropping. If she did apply for admission, she would probably be denied.
“Reardon has pull,” he offered, a weak rebuttal in Zoe’s opinion. “He’s been talking to Hillary about her. She can’t afford to blow this opportunity.”
Opportunity? What opportunity? “Face it, Will. She doesn’t want to go to Harvard.”
“If she plays her cards right, she can probably get a boat.”
Zoe opened her mouth, ready to blast him. He’d received a full football scholarship from Penn State, and dropped out of college. Was that what he wanted? A college drop-out in a couple years? Noticing the purple rings under his eyes, she held back. “You’re exhausted.” His plane had barely touched ground at Logan Airport when he was ordered to NAC’s corporate office in Waltham, for a marketing meeting. He hadn’t had time to stop home to change his clothes, never mind take a short nap. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll wait up.”
The look he returned implied that she’d lost it. “You think I could sleep?”
“For all we know, they had a flat.”
“She would have called.”
“So call her.” Duh.
“I did. I got voice mail.”
Shoot. “You know Leah. Her battery probably died.” She was grasping at straws. Leah was sixteen years old. That phone was her lifeline. Still, it could be true. It was possible. Right?
Leah had totally lost track of time. She and Todd had been hanging out at the water tower for hours, perched on the hood of Todd’s Jeep, drinking Vodka and OJ, admiring the beautiful night.
This place was perfect, the most perfect place in the universe, maybe. Big sky, lots of trees.
From here, they could see the whole town, just about—the river, the railroad tracks. An orchard. In the valley, lights began to blink out. Leaning back on her elbows, she gazed up at the heavens. “Look,” she said, mesmerized by the inky black sky, the billions and billions of stars.
“The Big Dipper.” As she stared into space, time fell away, the past merging seamlessly with the future, this moment, up here, with Todd, the only reality there ever was or ever could be.
Todd took her hand, drawing her close, so close she could smell the spicy deodorant under his armpits. Just being with Todd Corbett made her feel dizzy all over. Todd was, by far, the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on. His hair was long on top, short on the sides. He had full lips, and the most fabulous blue eyes, like, like crystals or something. A Romanesque nose, the exact nose she’d once told Cissy she’d die for, only now that she’d seen it on Todd, she realized that that particular nose was meant for a boy. Best of all, he had this incredible aura, all purple and blue, like James Dean or Curt Cobain.
She curled her legs under her, laid her head on Todd’s chest.
They met at a party, the Friday before school started. Todd had been on tour for the past two years, working as a roadie for a heavy metal band called “Cobra.” Leah knew he was back—that was all anybody was talking about—had recognized him instantly, from all the descriptions.
She couldn’t believe her luck. Todd Corbett! And alone! She’d heard he was hot. He was even better looking in person. Looking back, she couldn’t believe she’d been so brazen. She left Cissy in the lurch, sashayed right over to him, took a seat beside him, on the living room floor.
The movie he was watching was stupid. People clopping across a field like zombies, their arms outstretched. They reminded her of herself and Justine when they were little, playing blind.
Even the makeup looked phony.
“What are you watching?” she asked.
“Night of the Living Dead. Flick’s a classic. Hey, haven’t I seen you someplace before?”
Maybe, though she couldn’t imagine where. Todd couldn’t possibly have remembered her from high school. She was only a freshman when he dropped out.
“Leah Tyler, right? You’re that soccer chick.”
The wind swished through the trees. Leah shivered and Todd shrugged out of his worn leather bomber, draped his jacket over her shoulders. He reached into the pocket of his jeans, retrieved a small plastic bag half-full of weed, began rolling a joint. He licked the edge of the paper, lit the joint, inhaling deeply, and handed it to her, the smell rich and exotic and sweet.
Leah had never smoked marijuana until she met Todd. She used to be scared, which was dumb: weed was totally harmless. (The first few times she smoked, she had to admit, she’d been disappointed.) She pulled, her chest searing, struggled to hold the ice-hot smoke in her lungs.
Suddenly, she was coughing, waving her arms.
“You OK, babe?” Todd rescued the joint. With the other hand, he patted her back.
Once she was breathing easily again, he laughed, a sweet laugh that left her feeling dignified, rather than cheesy or stupid. He pinched the joint between his index finger and thumb, took a hit to demonstrate, and brought it to her lips, holding it for her. “That’s it, babe. Good.”
They smoked the joint to its stub, and he showed her how to fashion a roach clip from twigs. Afterward, he offered to drive her home. “Don’t want you getting in trouble or nothing.”
“That’s OK,” Leah said dreamily. “I don’t have to go yet.”
Todd hopped off the hood of the Jeep, pulled a flannel blanket from the back of the truck, and spread the blanket on the grass, under a giant oak tree. Leah watched him smooth it out, his hands dancing, the whole world intensely colored, brilliantly alive. She heard the lonely trill of a cricket, calling from deep in the valley, smelled the damp autumn earth, felt the cool blue breeze on her face. Todd was gliding toward her now, floating on air. He scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the hood of his Jeep, and laid her on the blanket. And kissed her.
At eleven thirty, Zoe dialed Leah’s cell phone again. When Leah didn’t pick up, she tried Cissy, both times reaching voice mail. “I don’t believe those two,” Zoe said, infuriated. “I’ll bet they changed their ringers. The little devils probably know it’s us.”
“That’s your daughter for you,” Will huffed.
“She’s my daughter now?”
By eleven forty-five, Zoe was chewing her cuticles. And Will was pacing.
“This is it,” Will announced. “I’m calling the cops.”
“You can’t be serious. What do you plan to tell them?”
He opened his cell phone. “I can’t sit here, doing nothing.” He glared at the screen.
“You can’t call the cops. She’s forty-five minutes late. They’ll think we’re crazy.”
He clicked his cell shut, dug his keys out of his pocket. “Fine. I’ll find her myself.”
Find her? Where on earth did he plan to look?
“I’ll start at the high school.”
“The game was over hours ago.”
“I’ll drive by the Hanson’s.” He headed for the garage, Dog at his heels.
“And do what?” Cissy’s mom, a nurse, worked the early shift at St. John’s. Judi was probably in bed by now. He would frighten her if he knocked on the door. “Will? Answer me.”
He swiveled to face her. “Look for the car,” he snapped, and ushered Dog out the door.
Zoe stood in the mudroom, at a loss, staring blankly at the door her husband had closed. The house, she realized when she came to, was an icebox. She rooted through the hall closet, found a fleece jacket of Will’s, and pulled it on, kicked off her shoes, the ceramic tile cool under her bare feet, went to the bathroom, crossed the hall to the laundry, tossed a load of clean clothes into the dryer, and wandered back to the kitchen. She poured a glass of water, gathered the dishes they’d left on the dining room table, and emptied the uneaten chips into the compactor. She loaded the dishwasher. After she finished washing the counter, she flung the rag into the sink, and grabbed the cordless phone, so she would have a phone handy if Will or Leah tried to call.
A family portrait, commissioned last year, hung over the stone fireplace in the family room. For the photograph, the four of them had dressed in blue; their blue period, they’d joked when the photographer showed them the proofs. In the photo, Zoe is sitting on a stool, leaning toward the camera, Will standing behind her, flanked by the girls. Looking at the portrait, you’d never guess how hard it had been for the photographer to capture the shot, the kids squabbling, Will impatient, Zoe frustrated, both parents clenching their teeth. Restless, Zoe stepped down into the family room, sank into the oversized chair next to the fireplace, and curled her legs under her, clutching the phone.
Waiting, she tried to think positive thoughts. Leah’s responsible. She can handle herself. If the girls had been in a car accident, the police would have contacted them by now. As usual, her effort to avoid negative thoughts conjured them up. Something wasn’t right. Leah had been late a few times before, never like this. A half hour was one thing. Zoe often lost track of time herself. She would be at her office, transcribing her notes, look up, notice the clock, and realize she was supposed to have picked up one of the girls—at school, at the mall, at a friend’s—fifteen, twenty minutes before. She would rush around her office in a tizzy, collecting her folders and purse, cursing herself for being a neglectful mother, and drive like a madwoman to her destination. But an hour? She checked her watch. And fifteen minutes? This wasn’t like Leah.
She wondered if she had missed something. A signal. A hint. This morning, Leah, out of bed by seven, had moseyed into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Spotting the sauce pan on the front burner, she’d whined about having to eat oatmeal again. But she always whined when Zoe made oatmeal, which on certain days she found “revolting,” on others “disgusting” or “gross.” Zoe set the bowl in front of her. “Quit bellyaching,” she said. “Oatmeal is good for you.”
They were running late. So the girls wouldn’t have to rush to catch the bus, Zoe offered to drive them to school. Justine rode shotgun, while Leah dozed in the backseat. At two, Leah called Zoe at work to remind her that she and Cissy planned to go to the game. She was headed directly home after practice, Leah had said; she would fix dinner. At six thirty, when Zoe opened the back door, she smelled Leah’s spicy, cumin-laced chili. On the island counter, Zoe found place settings for her, for Will, for Justine, three glasses filled with ice water and lemon. Justine was upstairs in her room, doing her geometry homework. Leah had already left for the game.
Zoe closed her eyes, breathing deeply, attempting to center herself, and, counting backward from ten. . . eight, seven, six. . . summoned an image of her daughter. Leah’s face materialized, and her body slowly came into focus. Directing her energy outward, Zoe enclosed her daughter in a protective circle of light. Be safe, baby, she whispered. Be safe.
IN LEAH’S WAKEBy Terri Giuliano Long
Pages: 352
Format: Paperback, Kindle
ISBN: 1456310542
Publisher: CreateSpace
Website: www.tglong.com
BOOK BLURB
The Tyler family had the perfect life - until sixteen-year-old Leah decided she didn't want to be perfect anymore.
While her parents fight to save their daughter from destroying her brilliant future, Leah's younger sister, Justine, must cope with the damage her out-of-control sibling leaves in her wake.
Will this family survive? What happens when love just isn't enough?
Jodi Picoult fans will love this beautifully written and absorbing novel.
DESCRIPTION
Protecting their children comes naturally for Zoe and Will Tyler—until their daughter Leah decides to actively destroy her own future.
Leah grew up in a privileged upper-middle class world. Her parents spared no expense for her happiness; she had all-but secured an Ivy League scholarship and a future as a star athlete. Then she met Todd.
Leah’s parents watch helplessly as their daughter falls into a world of drugs, sex, and wild parties. While Will attempts to control his daughter’s every move to prevent her from falling deeper into this dangerous new life, Zoe prefers to give Leah slack in the hope that she may learn from her mistakes. Their divided approach drives their daughter out of their home and a wedge into their marriage.
Twelve-year-old Justine observes Leah’s rebellion from the shadows of their fragmented family. She desperately seeks her big sister’s approval and will do whatever it takes to obtain it. Meanwhile she is left to question whether her parents love her and whether God even knows she exists.
What happens when love just isn’t enough? Who will pay the consequences of Leah’s vagrant lifestyle? Can this broken family survive the destruction left in Leah’s wake?
This mesmerizing debut novel tells the tale of a contemporary American family caught in the throes of adolescent rebellion - a heartbreaking, funny, ultimately redemptive quest for love, independence, connection and grace.
SALES LINKS Amazon Print , Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble, Indie Bound
AUTHOR BIOTerri Giuliano Long is the bestselling author of the award-winning novel In Leah’s Wake. Books offer her a zest for life’s highs and comfort in its lows. She’s all-too-happy to share this love with others as a novelist and a writing teacher at Boston College. She was grateful and thrilled beyond words when In Leah’s Wake hit the Barnes & Noble and Amazon bestseller lists in August. She owes a lot of wonderful people – big time! – for any success she’s enjoyed!
Website: http://www.tglong.com/
Blog: www.tglong.com/blog
Twitter: https://twitter.com/tglong
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tglongwrites
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Red Winter Book Tour Stop and $25 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway
Nov 1 Guest Blog
Pocket After Dark
Nov 3 interview and review
For The Love of Reading!
Nov 5 Promo Spot
The Write at Home Mom
Nov 6 Promo
Roxanne’s Realm
Nov 6 Promo
The Ramblings of Amy –
Nov 7 Interview and Promo
JeanzBookReadNReview
Nov 7 Promo
The Wytch's Mirror
Red WinterBy Clark Hays
Pumpjack Press, 2011
How do you kill someone who just won’t stay dead? It will take more than a steady hand filled with a blazing six shooter if anyone in LonePine lives through the “Red Winter.”
Sheriff Early Hardiman has seen a lot of bad things in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for the first Vampire to visit the Old West.
The year is 1890 and winter is closing like a noose around tiny LonePine, Wyoming. When the snows come and the mountain passes are buried and the train stops running, there’s only one way to leave LonePine — boots up in a pine box. For Sheriff Hardiman, once one of the fastest guns in the West, it’s another four months of watching over the foolish and the foolhardy and praying for the arrival of spring. At least he has the lovely Miss Grace, his new wife and former madam of the infamous Pearl brothel, to keep him company.
But then a murderer turns up out of the cold and dark. People are being killed and not in the usual way, either — they are dying hard, tortured and drained of their blood. Worse, it appears Miss Grace may be next on the list.
Fans of “The Cowboy and the Vampire” (Midnight Ink, 2010) know that LonePine will see plenty of Vampires in another 120 years. But in 1890, no one had yet even imagined the kind of terror Jericho Whistler brings with him to the isolated little town when he hunkers down for a long winter of feasting on the terrified and trapped residents of LonePine.
Buy it: Amazon Smashwords
Excerpt
“Want to tell me what the hell’s got you all shook up?” he asked Avery.
“Want to tell me what the hell’s got you all shook up?” he asked Avery.
“It’s awful Sheriff, one them old gals.” His face turned green as he conjured up the image. “Someone cut her all to hell. Dammit Early, there’s blood everywhere.”
They stalked on, Early feeling a cold ball of dread in his stomach. His fists clenched unconsciously. Out past the railroad station they crossed the rough-hewn bridge spanning the dark rush of Wet River, boots crunching on the frozen ground. Lights were burning around the peeling exterior of the Hog Ranch, lanterns setting on the porch and people standing close together shivering from the cold but unwilling to go in.
As they walked up and those gathered recognized Early, they clustered around him and all began talking at once, a knot of pale, worried faces. One of the whores was holding the edge of the porch rail, wiping vomit from the corners of her painted mouth.
“Quiet,” he bellowed. “Somebody tell me what the hell’s going on here,” he shouted, cutting through the questions and clamor.
“Go see for yourself,” a man said weakly, pointing through the door. “It’s like a goddamn slaughterhouse.”
He stepped into the front room, lit by candles and guttering oil lamps. The smell of sex and smoke hung heavy in the air. “Where?” he asked Avery, standing in the door.
“Upstairs and down the hall.”
Senses straining, he walked slowly up to the second story and the row of doors standing open, the empty rooms silent and accusing. The familiar scent of sin and body odor was overpowered by something else. Fear. And death. He looked into each room as he passed, cataloging the contents in his mind. The last door on the right was closed. He turned the knob and jerked it open, felt bile rising in his throat and sagged against the frame.
“Sweet Holy Jesus,” he muttered. He had always considered himself a hard man, one accustomed to death, but the scene that lay before him shook him to the core. What had once been a woman lay tied to the bed with rawhide cords, dead eyes open and frozen wide with fear, a bloody rag stuffed in her mouth.
A fresh wave of nausea washed over him and he choked it back, tearing his gaze away to look at the familiar objects in the room: a dirty wash basin, cracked mirror, an expensive brush with a bone handle, a few dresses. Not much to live for, nothing at all to die for.
About the authorClark Hays is a writer, poet and lapsed cowboy living in Portland, Oregon, with writing partner Kathleen McFall. Their first book, The Cowboy and the Vampire, was re-released October 2010 by Midnight Ink. They are hard at work on a sequel, Blood and Whiskey, which will be released in early 2012.
In the meantime, Red Winter, edited by Kathleen, is available as an eBook.
Web: www.cowboyandvampire.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cowboyandvampire
Twitter: @cowboyvamp
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Guest Blog and Giveaway with Kerri Nelson
Peanut Butter Love Scenes & My “In A Minute” MantraIn an ideal world, I’d have my own wife. I mean, I’m not into this multiple wives thing but wouldn’t it be cool if I had an organized, nifty woman about who could help me with all the little things around the house while I leisurely lounged about and wrote my novels?
Someone who would help with the gigantic piles of laundry that never seem to get caught up. Someone would do a load or two of dishes, is that really asking too much? And someone who could merrily entertain my children while I struggle to get down just…a…few…more…words…on my current manuscript.
And the best part…she’d do all of this for FREE! Just because she loves me.
Well, I don’t see that happening any time soon. I mean, cause then she’d probably want time alone with my husband (which is a real deal breaker for me) and then…what if the children started calling her “Momma”? Hmmm…doesn’t sound like a winner for me.
So, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to do it all. And I do this daily with two little methods I’ve lovingly created called: Peanut Butter Love Scenes & My “In A Minute” Mantra.
Unfortunately, for those of you who like the kinky stuff…Peanut Butter Love Scenes does not refer to mixing food with sexual escapades. However, it does refer to the times when I must craft a sexy, thrilling, sensual love scene whilst my two toddlers are finger painting their peanut butter and jelly sandwich filling all over the table, their clothes and my son’s favorite place---a thorough smearing into his cleanly washed hair.
Despite my urge to jump up and clean their sticky mess with a cleaning that would pass any white glove test, I must push through the scene until I reach that all important climax. Sounds tough? Oh, that’s nothing compared to the sheer overload of verbal requests and altercations my three children battle through daily.
For these, I’ve developed my “In A Minute Mantra”. What is this, you say? Some sort of time management solution that will help all working mothers succeed?
Sadly, no.
It is what I say at least one hundred times per day (I’ve really lost count and a hundred is probably low). It goes something like this…
3 year old: “Momma, I’m hungry.”
Me: “In a minute.”
10 year old: “Mom, when are we going to Target?”
Me: “In a minute.”
3 year old: “Momma, can you change the channel?”
Me: “In…a…minute…”
1 year old throwing a tantrum in the den.
Me (without looking up from the keyboard): “Leave your brother alone!”
3 year old: “In a minute, Momma.”
So, as you can see…I’ve taught my children this valuable mantra. Does it work? Not really.
But sometimes we just need one more minute or two or three or fifty. Then again, to meet all my writing, editing, teaching, volunteering, promotional and other deadlines…maybe I need more than a minute. Maybe I do need that wife after all.
Thanks for hosting me today.
Giveaway for the day:
Leave a question or comment to be entered to win today’s prize: A choice of e-books from my back list!
And to everyone who drops by, don’t forget to enter my Kindle contest no later than November 7th! The grand prize winner will be announced at my Twitter Party on November 8th.
© Kerri Nelson 2011
Nov 1 Guest Blog
The Write at Home Mom
Nov 2 Promo Spot
Nov 3 Interview
Fang-tastic Books
Nov 4 Character Interview/Profile
GraveTells -
Nov 5 Promo
Lisa’s World of Books
Nov 6 Promo
Roxanne’s Realm
November 8 Twitter Party
1 pm EST
Courting DemonsBy Kerri Nelson
Blurb:
Paisley Barton was already having a bad day before she turned her husband into a rat.
First, she was fired by her boss and then came home to find hubby in the shower with a naked blonde chick.
They say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned but this break-up may just unleash hell on Earth when Paisley casts a spell of vengeance against her philandering husband.
After her spell casting inadvertently opens a portal between dimensions, Paisley finds her family home transformed into a nightly courtroom for settling disputes between demons of the underworld and she’s the judge! If that’s not enough, she’s got to deal with a charming, ancient demon named Camden who wants to be her personal bodyguard while trying to explain her husband’s sudden, mysterious disappearance to sexy police Detective Dalton Briggs.
But Paisley will show them all that an everyday working mom is better equipped than most to deal with the mystical mayhem…and with a tempting demon hottie and a flirtatious young detective vying for her affection, she soon learns that being single again isn’t so bad after all.
“When a wronged wife turns her cheating husband into a rat, you know you have to keep reading! Kerri Nelson offers up a lot of fun and wild magic in Courting Demons!” --Bestselling author, Linda Wisdom, Demons are a Girl’s Best Friend
http://jupitergardens.com/Courting-Demons-by-Kerri-Nelson-print.html
In print and for the Kindle at Amazon.com
Author Bio:Kerri Nelson discovered her love of writing at an early age and soon became a columnist for her local newspaper winning the Outstanding Young Journalist of the Year Award for her efforts.
After a fifteen year career in the legal field, Kerri fulfilled her lifelong dream of publication and is now an award winning multi-published author of nearly every genre under the sun (and moon) and also writes young adult fiction under the penname K.G. Summers.
A true southern belle, she comes complete with a dashing southern gentleman and three adorable children for whom she often bakes many homemade treats.
Kerri is an active member of Sisters in Crime and Romance Writers of America as well as numerous chapters including Futuristic Fantasy & Paranormal Writers and her Presidency of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers.
Read more about Kerri’s books at her website: www.kerrinelson.com
Follow her on Twitter here: www.twitter.com/kerribookwriter
Visit her author blog here: http://www.kerribookwriter.blogspot.com/
Visit her industry blog here: http://www.thebookboost.blogspot.com/
Details on how to enter to win the GRAND PRIZE Kindle at the end of the “Dark Days of Demons Tour” located here:
http://kerribookwriter.blogspot.com/2011/09/courting-demons-blog-tour-win-kindle.html
Don’t forget to enter Kerri's Kindle contest no later than November 7th!
The grand prize winner will be announced at the Twitter Party on November 8th #courtingdemons
Monday, October 31, 2011
History of Halloween Guest Blog with Jacqueline Paige
How long has Halloween been around?
By Jacqueline Paige
If you know me at all you know that Halloween is a big event in my world.
I go ‘boxing day’ shopping on November 1st and from September until October 31st everyone in my house is discussing how we’re going to set our haunted yard/house up this year.
Have you ever wondered how long Halloween has been around?
Historians have found evidence that is goes back at least 2000 years, maybe longer.
It has roots from many origins and has had many names along the way as well.
The Celtic festival of Samhain, Roman feast of Pomona, festival of the dead called
Parentalia, All Saints Day, All-Hallows-Even, Hallowe'en and of course Halloween.
There are many more different variations in history, but this is after all a guest blog and not a history paper.
The actual act of dressing up and going out for Halloween has been dated back as far as 1593 and in another part of the world 1895. The first record of it happening in North America is 1911, not becoming more popular until the 1930’s.
Regardless of whether this night has spiritual foundations in your beliefs or you’re just happy to have one night a year to be who or whatever you want to be, it’s definitely a night that has grown in leaps and bounds in popularity in my area of the world (if the specialized stores out there are any indication).
Small towns have bonfires and large gathering areas for parents and children to stop and socialize and warm up before continue their trek around the town.
Evan smiled a huge fake grin at the nurse in a too-tight costume as he worked his way back toward the bar. He stopped and watched his, what would he call him? He was an employee, but he handled everything from Evan’s cars to calling the pool cleaners. He was also the only employee who knew of his magical abilities and had no problems with it. Whatever his title was, he was having a blast playing bartender at the party. Dressed as a Chippendale, and not the chipmunk kind, he flirted with an Egyptian princess that was waiting for her drinks. He waited until Teddy had struck out before leaning on the bar.
“How’s the king of the jungle?” Teddy leaned on the other side of the counter.
Evan hissed out a long breath. “Bored silly.” He glanced around the candle lit room at the too many costumed people acting like kids. “Did I invite this many?” And where was Arianna? It was past nine, and he’d started to feel like everyone was noticing he was watching the door more than the people talking to him.
Teddy looked around the room and shrugged his naked shoulders. “I don’t know when you consider each invite bringing a date . . .” He nodded. “Yeah probably.” He poured a rum and Coke and handed it to Evan. “You could select some sexy demon or angel to cosy up to.”
Evan sighed and fiddled with the napkins stacked neatly on the bar. “And how do I know which of them I’m boss to and which I’m not? I can’t go to work on Monday and find out I was seducing my own assistant or one of the secretaries.” He sipped the drink. “Tell me again why I wanted masks only.”
Teddy wiggled his dark eyebrows at him. “For the intrigue and mystery.”
Evan laughed. “Next time I want intrigue and mystery, tell me to go buy a book or watch a movie, okay?”
Teddy nodded. “Okay.” He glanced toward the entrance and then snapped his neck back to look at the door again. “Wow,” he whispered. “That’s several steps beyond intrigue and moving right into hot!”
Evan chuckled at the description and turned to look over his shoulder. Very nice, he thought at first glance. A witch stood in the entranceway looking around. She had passed on the typical witch portrayal and had gone for sexy instead. Her auburn hair hung just past her shoulders and framed her masked face. He ran his eyes down her curved shape to her black heels, and she pulled off sexy exquisitely. He was about to turn back to Teddy when she turned and a slender, very nicely shaped leg peaked out of the slit in black skirt. Black fishnet stockings lovingly wrapped that leg.
He turned more in the direction of the entranceway and took his fill of observing each inch of that leg. Every man has one weakness, he thought, and his just happened to be fishnet stockings. Maybe it was odd, but still the truth. She had gone from mildly interesting to extremely appealing with one move of a leg. He shook his head and reached back to quickly down the rest of his drink. Setting the glass on the bar, he gave the grinning bar tender a shrug. “As the host, it would be rude to not go over and greet her.”
Teddy nodded and made a serious face. “Very rude indeed.” He looked back at the woman. “If her taste doesn’t run to lord of the jungle, send her this way.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he walked away.
Evan dodged having to stop and chat with the vampire and pink princess as he headed on the most direct path to the woman who still hadn’t moved from the door. He wished for a moment that he could growl like the lion he was portraying when a doctor in surgical scrubs moved in on the witch. The doctor got shot down rather quickly as the witch glared at him.
DREAMS
By Jacqueline Paige
A Dream series - three steamy tales of romance, suspense with unexpected paranormal flares
ISBN/EAN13: 9781463685331
Page Count: 326
Binding Type: US Trade Paper 5" x 8"
Genre: Fiction / Romance / Paranormal
She’s a small town cop. He’s an inmate undercover. They meet in a dream.
Blurb
Jennah Best left the adrenaline packed life of being a cop on the edge for a more peaceful place. She escaped a marriage that almost destroyed her and now lives her life working for a small police station in the town of Ridge. At her age, she’s accepted that it’s too late and too much work to start all over again, until she meets a man in a dream...
While young, Dominic Palmer has always proven he can get the job done. Or at least, that was the case before he accepted a job and agreed to go undercover as an inmate. When months go by and there’s no word from his outside contact he wonders if he’s been left on the inside for good. He’s fighting to stay alive and keep his sanity, but finds himself completely distracted by a mysterious woman he met in a dream...
FROM A DREAM
She wakes up in a dark hole, alone. He’ll stop at nothing to find her.
Blurb:
Jennah has found happiness. She wasn’t looking for it but isn’t about to give it up now that she has it. Everything she craved for years was now right in front of her--a man that makes her feel cherished, a peaceful life, and a job she enjoys. It all changes when she wakes up in a dark hole, alone, unarmed and unable to connect with the one man she’s grown to need.
Dominic realizes he is one of those men that wants the whole package of marriage and a family, and he’s found the woman to have that with. He’s going stir crazy having to stay hidden until the leader of a criminal organization is caught, but he’s more than willing to stay right here with her.
All of his plans evaporate when a vindictive criminal takes her from him as a hostage. He won’t rest until she’s in his arms again.
AFTER THE DREAM
Brody believes he’s a normal man. Tess has felt like a freak most of her life- except when she’s around one man.
Blurb AFTER THE DREAM
Feeling less then worthy as a normal man surrounded by a team with special skills, Brody has to wonder why he’s a part of it. If it weren’t for one team mate being there, he’d transfer back to normalcy.
Tess has always felt like a freak, even surrounded by others that are different she still feels like an outsider. Only one of her team mates make her feel like an everyday person.
CURSES
Jacqueline Paige is a world class multi-tasker being a mother to five adventurous and unpredictable children, a cafe manager and having a colossal imagination that allows her to step outside of reality into a world of paranormal romance —with just a touch of suspense.
Jacqueline lives in Ontario, Canada and avoids the ever changing weather of the region she lives in by creating other worlds to fall into in her stories of all things paranormal.
Her first book was published in 2009 and since then has published ten. She is always writing and currently has more than a dozen stories in one stage or another of the writing process.
You can find all of Jacqueline’s books at: www.jacqpaige.webs.com
from whole tour and one pdf per week (winner’s choice) from all stops
To enter pleasefill out the form
Receive a bonus entry for leaving
By Jacqueline Paige
If you know me at all you know that Halloween is a big event in my world.
I go ‘boxing day’ shopping on November 1st and from September until October 31st everyone in my house is discussing how we’re going to set our haunted yard/house up this year.
Have you ever wondered how long Halloween has been around?
Historians have found evidence that is goes back at least 2000 years, maybe longer.
It has roots from many origins and has had many names along the way as well.
The Celtic festival of Samhain, Roman feast of Pomona, festival of the dead called
Parentalia, All Saints Day, All-Hallows-Even, Hallowe'en and of course Halloween.
There are many more different variations in history, but this is after all a guest blog and not a history paper.
The actual act of dressing up and going out for Halloween has been dated back as far as 1593 and in another part of the world 1895. The first record of it happening in North America is 1911, not becoming more popular until the 1930’s.
Regardless of whether this night has spiritual foundations in your beliefs or you’re just happy to have one night a year to be who or whatever you want to be, it’s definitely a night that has grown in leaps and bounds in popularity in my area of the world (if the specialized stores out there are any indication).
Small towns have bonfires and large gathering areas for parents and children to stop and socialize and warm up before continue their trek around the town.
Halloween is something I wish could be more than just a day, maybe we could have a whole week of eventsthat culminate on the night of trick-or-treating. Then again if I had my way it would be recognized as a national holiday and everyone would get a paid day off from work as well!
I know, I’m only dreaming. But I am after all a writer that writes fiction for a reason.
Here’s an excerpt from my Halloween tale Behind the Mask in my newest release Curses:
Here’s an excerpt from my Halloween tale Behind the Mask in my newest release Curses:
Evan smiled a huge fake grin at the nurse in a too-tight costume as he worked his way back toward the bar. He stopped and watched his, what would he call him? He was an employee, but he handled everything from Evan’s cars to calling the pool cleaners. He was also the only employee who knew of his magical abilities and had no problems with it. Whatever his title was, he was having a blast playing bartender at the party. Dressed as a Chippendale, and not the chipmunk kind, he flirted with an Egyptian princess that was waiting for her drinks. He waited until Teddy had struck out before leaning on the bar.
“How’s the king of the jungle?” Teddy leaned on the other side of the counter.
Evan hissed out a long breath. “Bored silly.” He glanced around the candle lit room at the too many costumed people acting like kids. “Did I invite this many?” And where was Arianna? It was past nine, and he’d started to feel like everyone was noticing he was watching the door more than the people talking to him.
Teddy looked around the room and shrugged his naked shoulders. “I don’t know when you consider each invite bringing a date . . .” He nodded. “Yeah probably.” He poured a rum and Coke and handed it to Evan. “You could select some sexy demon or angel to cosy up to.”
Evan sighed and fiddled with the napkins stacked neatly on the bar. “And how do I know which of them I’m boss to and which I’m not? I can’t go to work on Monday and find out I was seducing my own assistant or one of the secretaries.” He sipped the drink. “Tell me again why I wanted masks only.”
Teddy wiggled his dark eyebrows at him. “For the intrigue and mystery.”
Evan laughed. “Next time I want intrigue and mystery, tell me to go buy a book or watch a movie, okay?”
Teddy nodded. “Okay.” He glanced toward the entrance and then snapped his neck back to look at the door again. “Wow,” he whispered. “That’s several steps beyond intrigue and moving right into hot!”
Evan chuckled at the description and turned to look over his shoulder. Very nice, he thought at first glance. A witch stood in the entranceway looking around. She had passed on the typical witch portrayal and had gone for sexy instead. Her auburn hair hung just past her shoulders and framed her masked face. He ran his eyes down her curved shape to her black heels, and she pulled off sexy exquisitely. He was about to turn back to Teddy when she turned and a slender, very nicely shaped leg peaked out of the slit in black skirt. Black fishnet stockings lovingly wrapped that leg.
He turned more in the direction of the entranceway and took his fill of observing each inch of that leg. Every man has one weakness, he thought, and his just happened to be fishnet stockings. Maybe it was odd, but still the truth. She had gone from mildly interesting to extremely appealing with one move of a leg. He shook his head and reached back to quickly down the rest of his drink. Setting the glass on the bar, he gave the grinning bar tender a shrug. “As the host, it would be rude to not go over and greet her.”
Teddy nodded and made a serious face. “Very rude indeed.” He looked back at the woman. “If her taste doesn’t run to lord of the jungle, send her this way.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he walked away.
Evan dodged having to stop and chat with the vampire and pink princess as he headed on the most direct path to the woman who still hadn’t moved from the door. He wished for a moment that he could growl like the lion he was portraying when a doctor in surgical scrubs moved in on the witch. The doctor got shot down rather quickly as the witch glared at him.
Oct 19 Guest Blog Roxanne’s Realm
Oct 21 Guest Blog
Lisa’s World of Books
Oct 23 Guest Blog and review
Oct 26 Interview and Review
Rage, Sex and Teddy bears
Oct 31 The Write at Home Mom
Halloween Theme Post
Nov 2 Promo
Nov 4 Interview
JeanzBookReadNReview
http://jeanzbookreadnreview.blogspot.com/
Nov 7th Highlighted Author and interview
http://haurbanstars.com/for a spotlight
Nov 9th interview
http://ravencraftrealm.blogspot.com/
Nov 11th interview
http://charleneawilsonblog.blogspot.com/
Nov 7th Highlighted Author and interview
http://haurbanstars.com/for a spotlight
Nov 9th interview
http://ravencraftrealm.blogspot.com/
Nov 11th interview
http://charleneawilsonblog.blogspot.com/
Nov 12 Interview
Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
Nov 14 Guest Post and review
Cocktails and Books
Nov 17 Guest Blog
All the days of
Nov 20 Review of Dreams
Reviews By Molly
Nov 20 Interview
Lissette E. Manning
Nov 22 Guest Blog
Fang-tastic Books
Nov 22 interview and excerpt
Laurie's Thoughts & Reviews
DREAMS
By Jacqueline Paige
A Dream series - three steamy tales of romance, suspense with unexpected paranormal flares
ISBN/EAN13: 9781463685331
Page Count: 326
Binding Type: US Trade Paper 5" x 8"
Genre: Fiction / Romance / Paranormal
IN OUR DREAM
She’s a small town cop. He’s an inmate undercover. They meet in a dream.
Blurb
Jennah Best left the adrenaline packed life of being a cop on the edge for a more peaceful place. She escaped a marriage that almost destroyed her and now lives her life working for a small police station in the town of Ridge. At her age, she’s accepted that it’s too late and too much work to start all over again, until she meets a man in a dream...
While young, Dominic Palmer has always proven he can get the job done. Or at least, that was the case before he accepted a job and agreed to go undercover as an inmate. When months go by and there’s no word from his outside contact he wonders if he’s been left on the inside for good. He’s fighting to stay alive and keep his sanity, but finds himself completely distracted by a mysterious woman he met in a dream...
FROM A DREAM
She wakes up in a dark hole, alone. He’ll stop at nothing to find her.
Blurb:
Jennah has found happiness. She wasn’t looking for it but isn’t about to give it up now that she has it. Everything she craved for years was now right in front of her--a man that makes her feel cherished, a peaceful life, and a job she enjoys. It all changes when she wakes up in a dark hole, alone, unarmed and unable to connect with the one man she’s grown to need.
Dominic realizes he is one of those men that wants the whole package of marriage and a family, and he’s found the woman to have that with. He’s going stir crazy having to stay hidden until the leader of a criminal organization is caught, but he’s more than willing to stay right here with her.
All of his plans evaporate when a vindictive criminal takes her from him as a hostage. He won’t rest until she’s in his arms again.
AFTER THE DREAM
Brody believes he’s a normal man. Tess has felt like a freak most of her life- except when she’s around one man.
Blurb AFTER THE DREAM
Feeling less then worthy as a normal man surrounded by a team with special skills, Brody has to wonder why he’s a part of it. If it weren’t for one team mate being there, he’d transfer back to normalcy.
Tess has always felt like a freak, even surrounded by others that are different she still feels like an outsider. Only one of her team mates make her feel like an everyday person.
CURSESBy Jacqueline Paige
About the Author:
Release date scheduled for October 18
ISBN-13: 978-1466335509
ISBN-13: 978-1466335509
BEHIND THE MASK
A TOP PICK at NIGHT OWL REVIEWS
Her world is calm and predictable until one night, one costume party and one sexy masked man happen.
Blurb for Behind the Mask
In a fit of temper, Gracelyn’s only sister curses her so she’s forgotten the moment anyone turns away from her. Only one thing, at an exact moment, can break the curse. After years of failed attempts, she is forced to accept living her life completely alone. Her world becomes calm and predictable —until one Halloween night … one costume party … and one masquerading man change everything.
THIS RING
THIS RING
From a curse four decades old comes love and trust.
BLURB for This Ring:
Devastated Emma flees to a cabin on an isolated lake to attempt putting her life back together. How she’s going to accomplish this she has no idea— the only thing she knows is she can’t go back and will never be able to trust again.
Bryce spent forty years trying to figure out how he ended up in the strange situation of not being alive or visible—it’s when he stops trying to find the answer he discovers the reason. Feeling that deep in your soul connection with another was what he was lacking all along. Now if he can convince the woman he feels it for, he may have a chance at living once more.
Jacqueline Paige is a world class multi-tasker being a mother to five adventurous and unpredictable children, a cafe manager and having a colossal imagination that allows her to step outside of reality into a world of paranormal romance —with just a touch of suspense.
Jacqueline lives in Ontario, Canada and avoids the ever changing weather of the region she lives in by creating other worlds to fall into in her stories of all things paranormal.
Her first book was published in 2009 and since then has published ten. She is always writing and currently has more than a dozen stories in one stage or another of the writing process.
You can find all of Jacqueline’s books at: www.jacqpaige.webs.com
Jacqueline is giving away 1 signed copy
(winner’s choice Dreams or Curses)
from whole tour and one pdf per week (winner’s choice) from all stops
To enter please
Receive a bonus entry for leaving
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