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Saturday, August 23, 2014

Saturday Sampler: A Matter of Trust by Greta van der Rol #giveaway









Genre: Romantic Science Fiction
Release Date: April 11, 2014

Length: 94 Pages

 


Will the Demon Admiral protect her from her family? Princess Amira is ready to start a new life after the death of her husband, but that doesn’t include marrying the man her father picks out for her. Pursued by his agents, she races across the galaxy in a desperate search for a safe haven. Amid simmering tensions at the edge of the Empire, Amira renews her acquaintance with Imperial Admiral Ul-Mellor. Although his detractors call him the Demon Admiral, Amira finds him intelligent, articulate, and very attractive.

But Ul-Mellor is not human and Amira is a princess – far above Ul-Mellor’s status on his home world. He and Amira will have to overcome a gulf of cultural and class differences if they’re to turn their mutual attraction into a relationship. And what will Ul-Mellor do when faced with a choice – Amira or his hard-won commission?

Excerpt:

Amira strode across the ornate polished stone floor of her father’s private sitting room and into his study. “You wanted to see me, Father?”

Prince Fedor Hezkurin looked up from the paperwork on his desk and scowled, his gaze flicking over her. “Amira, my dear, I wish you wouldn’t wear those peasant clothes. They don’t become you.”

“They’re very practical for my work with the Tuchaska.” She pulled off the clasp that tied back her ponytail and shook her head, sending her hair dancing around her shoulders.

Hezkurin sighed. “That doesn’t become you either. You should not be wasting your time with aliens.”
Amira pulled over a chair and sat facing him. Yes, she probably did need a shower, and a change of clothes, too. Her boots had probably left a trail over her father’s floor. But she wasn’t going to apologize. “It was their planet before we took it over.”

“Yes, my dear and we’ve been the rulers for two hundred years.”

“They provide the labor for your estates. If somebody doesn’t help them you won’t have a labor force at all.” They’d had this discussion before. He didn’t care about mysterious illnesses that only affected the Tuchaska. As far as he was concerned there were enough of them to get the work done. Without her intervention their physician wouldn’t have been able to obtain sufficient drugs to treat the sick. Today she’d helped the doctor move two patients from their home to his clinic.

He nodded absently.

Her fingers beat a staccato tattoo on the arm of the chair. He was up to something. She could always tell. His eyes became shifty, darting around, and he fiddled with the objects on his desk. “Well?”

Prince Fedor shifted the picture of his wife one more time and took a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to Baron Ghaurondo.”

Ghaurondo? Big fat, ugly, loathsome Ghaurondo. She cocked an eyebrow. “How nice for you.”

“He’s a very powerful man, Amira.”

“Only in the Arondean Hegemony.”

Her father frowned. “Which is ten systems and where we live.”

“Yes, fine.” Amira crossed her legs and folded her arms. Her heart beat a little faster. This wasn’t
sounding good. “So what?”

The Prince scratched absently at his neck above the ornate collar of his uniform. Goodness, that was a very bad sign. This wasn’t going to be good at all.

“As you know, we’ve not had the best of seasons. And we’re very dependent on the Arondean Hegemony… to buy our harvest, anyway. They’ve found other places to supply their agricultural products.” Fedor paused and licked his lips.

“What has that to do with me, father?”

“Baron Ghaurondo has always admired you.”

“Him and a few others.” Her pulse galloped. She had an idea she knew where this was going.

“He’s asked for your hand.”

“Sorry, I need both of mine.” She wished this was some sort of ridiculous joke. Or maybe she’d wake up in her own bed. “Father, you can’t be serious. He’s a bag of fat on legs. He’s got body odor.”

“Amira, darling, don’t make this difficult. It’s time you married again. He’s rich and powerful—”

“He’s twice my age and disgusting. No.” Anger boiled in her belly. So he thought he could order her about like a teenager, did he? She should never have come back here. “And why do I have to marry again anyway?”

“Christoph’s been dead for a year now and you’re not getting any younger.”

“Don’t give me the grandchildren story. I don’t want to hear it.” She stared at him, a horrible thought insinuating itself into her mind. He couldn’t mean…? Surely not. But his face was composed, the sort of look her father gave his estate manager when he’d made up his mind. “Oh, how obscene. With that… that…”

“Look at it from the family’s point of view, darling. It’s a strategic alliance. In the short term, Baron Ghaurondo can guarantee sale of our harvest. Without that, we’re in for a very hard time.”

“So you’re selling me to keep your economy going.”

“No. In the longer term, we become part of a powerful family that will secure our future here. You would be mother of the future Baron.”

Amira’s lip curled in disgust. “Oh, please, father. Ghaurondo already has a gaggle of sons.”

“He has promised your son will become—”

“So you’re selling me to gain political advantage. You disgust me.” At least he had the decency to squirm.

“No.” He scratched his neck again. “Look at the positives. Ghaurondo can give you anything you want. Jewels, clothes, finery, antiques.” He made an expansive gesture with his arm. “Anything at all.”

“He has nothing I want.”

The prince cleared his throat. “I’ve agreed, Amira. Baron Ghaurondo will be here tomorrow to collect his betrothed.”

Her heart lurched. Tomorrow. The bastard. “You didn’t think it might have been nice to discuss your plans for my life with me?” She jabbed her finger at her chest.

He leaned back in his chair, his fists on the desk, his gaze fixed on her face. “I knew what you’d say. But sometimes I have to think about more than just my immediate family’s interests.”

This was beyond acceptable. He might have sired her but contempt for him rose like bile in her throat. She rose to her feet and leaned over the desk at him. “You can’t do this. I’m thirty-six years old, not some naĂŻve teenager to force into a strategic union.”

He flinched, but his jaw set. “I’ve given my word. It will be done.”

Amira shook her head slowly. “I’ve not given mine.” You contemptible bastard. She spun on her heel and strode toward the door, her boots ringing on the stone.

Her father’s sigh followed her. “I had hoped it would not come to this but you leave me no choice.”

The door opened. Six of the palace security guard waited outside.

Amira turned to her father, who stood behind his desk in his general’s pose: back straight and in command. He didn’t look at her, directing his attention at the armed men. “Escort Princess Amira to her apartments. She is not to leave without my express permission.”

Amira glowered at her father. Right now contempt wasn’t a good enough word. She despised him. “Do you think my mother would have approved of this?”

He looked at her then, a swift glance filled with sorrow before he said to the squad commander, “Take her away.”

“I despise you.” She marched off, flanked by the guards.
 
Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Payhip

About the Author:
 
Greta van der Rol loves writing action-packed adventures with a side salad of romance. Most of her work is space opera, but she has written paranormal and historical fiction. She lives not far from the coast in Queensland, Australia and enjoys photography and cooking when she isn’t bent over the computer. She has a degree in history and a background in building information systems, both of which go a long way toward helping her in her writing endeavours.

 Greta’s Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Google+ | Pinterest 



Monday, August 18, 2014

The Wedding

When I started this blog three years ago, I didn't know what I was doing. Not sure I'm doing it right. Not sure that that matters. I wanted a place where I could write whatever I wanted. Musing on a variety of topics. I've shared bits and pieces of my life, my family, my writing. And you, my readers, haven't complained--or are too polite to. LOL So pardon me as I mus on a recent event that overshadows my health issues, what's happening in the world, and sports event. It is the best thing that happened this year for my family.


I'm sorry for not posting last Monday as promised. After my company left, instead of writing a post about my son’s wedding I took a nap. All afternoon. It seems that preparing for a wedding, the event itself, and the post-wedding activities are more exhausting than I expected. Then add in house guests for a week along with late night conversations and I was one tired puppy. Also a bit brain dead.

photo credit: Kameren Scott
As you can see, the wedding was lovely. The weather spectacular. My son looked handsome (I’m not prejudiced, of course) and his bride was beautiful. They looked so happy. I hope as life throws them curves (it always does) they recall how happy they were a week ago Friday. That should get them through anything.

The only flaw in having a beach wedding is the sand. I’m still finding sand in my sandals, which I’d left at the top of the dune before walking barefoot to the site. Sand shifts, throwing off my balance, and I prayed that I wouldn't fall on my butt. Good thing I had my son on one side and Hubs on the other. Even better were the two groomsmen who helped me back up afterwards. They were so sweet.

Speaking of sweet guys... With the exception of the bestman and my son-in-law, I haven’t seen the groomsmen since they graduated high school about twenty years ago. Wow. What a difference. My son’s crazy friends who made the movie “Julius Caesar in the Hood” in my front yard for an English assignment—complete with the theme from Chariots of Fire blaring from a car radio in the finale—have grown into handsome, responsible, charming men. How great it was to see them again. How special that my son has kept in touch with them all these years.

I was so touched by the bestman’s toast. He’s known my son all his life. (His mother and I have been best friends since before Hubs and I met.) The boys grew up together, were roommates in college, and consider themselves brothers. He related stories that really captured my son’s essence and his heartfelt toast had many of us surreptitiously wiping away a tear.

My grandkiddies performed their duties as flower girl and ring “master” admirably. Imagine a 4 y/o twenty feet from Lake Michigan and being told he couldn’t wade in until after the pictures were taken. He bore up well. LOL His sister looked so much older than seven with her “updo” like the bride’s. An old pro (this was her third time), she reminded me of the time I was a flower girl, also at seven. Good memories. And for the first time, I danced with my son. An event I'll always hold dear.

I looked so forward to my son’s wedding for months, talked about it incessantly (or so it must have seemed to my friends and readers), and now it’s over. The letdown is tremendous. I figured a good night’s sleep, maybe an afternoon nap, and I’d be back to normal. Didn’t happen. Maybe my son and new daughter going back to Arizona has something to do with it. I won’t see them again for months.


Friends and family are posting pictures on Facebook and I’m reliving the wedding each day. Despite being tired for a week, I wouldn't trade the time for anything. It was wonderful seeing my son with the woman he loves marry the woman who loves him. Besides, sleep is vastly overrated. LOL

I’ve managed to prolong the good feelings about the wedding by blogging about it—first on the Roses of Prose last Tuesday and then on Friday on Facebook’s Fiction Fanatics Feud. After today, I think I’ll give this topic a rest even though it’s so precious to me.

Or maybe I’ll use the event in a book someday. Imagine the scenarios.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Meet J.C. McKenzie



Today my guest is urban fantasy author J.C. McKenzie. J.C. is a fellow The Wild Rose Press author who had me on her blog back in May. I'm happy to welcome her here.


Welcome, J.C. Please tell us about yourself.

Born and raised on the West Coast of Canada, I have a profound love for the ocean and nature. You’ll find both woven into my stories, along with splashes of humour. As a biologist by trade, I’ve worked for a marine research company and a dairy export division, but my passion for teaching shone through and I ended up in the same profession as my mom, dad and sister. I write under a pen name to keep my professional life separate form my writing one.

Where can readers find you?

We moved away from the coast at the beginning of the year to one of the prairie provinces for my husband’s job. Before, my answer would’ve been: at work, at a coffee shop, at home with my family or playing volleyball (either indoor or outdoor). Now, my answer has drastically changed. I live in a town of 800 and the closest coffee shop is in a small town across the border about 45 minutes away! The nearest Starbucks is 2 hours away and I spent a small portion of time lamenting that I’ll lose my gold card status. So now, I can be found mostly at home, enjoying the wide open spaces, and the living sky with its 360˚ view.

Online, I can be found almost everywhere.



What’s your favorite movie?

Willow. It’s the first movie I ever saw in a movie theatre (I grew up in a small town of 500 on a remote island off the west coast). The world created stuck with me and fantasy became a deep love ingrained within me. I gravitate toward everything fantasy, and that’s reflected in my own writing.

Have you ever stayed up all night to finish reading a book?

I used to do this all the time! My husband’s actually ripped my Kindle out of my hands to make me eat before I went back to finishing a book. I’d often spend a whole weekend devouring a series.

Now that I have a toddler, though, I no longer read through day and night. One, he’d never let me! Two, if he didn’t grab at my book every two seconds or spit juice at it, he’d find some way to hurt himself if I got that engrossed in a story with him around; and three, if I stayed up all night reading a book, he’ll still wake up at 6:30!

How many books have you written? Which is your favorite?

I’ve completed 7 stories, including short stories and flash fiction. I’m not counting any of my earlier work that remains unfinished somewhere on my hard drive.

Shift Happens and Beast Coast are both full-length books contracted with the Wild Rose Press, and I hope to add the third book of the Carus Series to that list very soon. In a way, Shift Happens is my favorite book, merely because it’s the first of my work to get contracted and published, but if I had to say which storyline I liked better, I’d say Beast Coast, and as my second published book, I feel I wrote it better, as I’m constantly trying to improve my craft.

My short paranormal romance story, The Shucker’s Booktique, is also a favorite because I love the element of water, and the ocean plays a big role in this story. I also wrote this one in third person and really liked including the hero’s point of view.

My flash fiction pieces are just straight up fun! I like the challenge of telling a story in 500 words or less, and the two that I’ve put out into the writing world have done well, but are not traditionally published and probably never will be.

But the story that will always stick to my heart, is the one that will likely never be told. The first manuscript that I ever completed, the one that makes me cringe when I read the prose, the one that got ripped apart in my first writing group, the one that’s a complete mess, is probably one of my favorites, too, because it was the first step toward achieving my dream to be a published author. It showed me that I could do this! I could write an 80k+ story with a plot and characters and chapters. I still love that manuscript, and probably always will.

I guess my stories are like children. You love each one just as much, but in different ways or for different reasons. It’s hard to pick a favorite.

What do you think makes a good story?

Good characterization with a dash of humour. I think more than one person has written about the finite number of plots that exist in the world, and if everyone follows the Michael Haughes Structure, most books will have a fairly consistent plot arch. This mountain hill is ingrained in us at the high school level. It’s hard to create something truly original and for the authors that do, and do it well, I applaud them. Where I try to make my stories original or captivating is with the characters and their interactions. I hope my worlds are intriguing and love that I set the Carus Chronicles in Vancouver.

What do you enjoy most about life?

My husband and son and the love I have for them.

Where do you start when writing? Research, plotting, outline, or...?

With the first scene! Which is funny, because it usually gets cut and hacked to bits. But I get an idea and start writing right away. After the first couple of scenes, I have an idea where the story is going and I’ll then plot out the rest of the book to make sure I hit the important events at the right time.

What are some jobs you've done that would end up in a book?

I’ve worked in many restaurants, bars and pubs as a waitress, hostess and bartender. I’ve also worked on commercial fishing boats for a marine research company, as a dairy export certifier for the New Zealand government, and as a teacher. All these jobs have interesting aspects to them that I could definitely use the jobs in future books. I’ve stayed away from them so far, because they’re too close to home and I don’t want to write a character who is me reincarnated.

If I was a first time reader of your books, which one would you recommend I start with and why?

Currently, only one of my books is out! So, I’d suggest readers start with Shift Happens.
When my other two stories come out, I’d suggest readers start with my paranormal short story, The Shucker’s Booktique, because it’s short, and sweet, and provides a nice sample of my writing style.



SHE NEEDS TO CLEAR HER NAME. HE NEEDS TO CHAPERONE. CAN THEY KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL?

Blurb:
Andrea McNeilly's job as a government agent is not asking questions, but then a routine assignment turns into a botched assassination of a Master Vampire's human servant. Answers become a priority. Her search to discover the truth is riddled with obstacles, the largest being an oversized Werewolf who resembles a Norse god. Andy can't afford the distraction he offers, because if she fails, she faces eternal enslavement.

Wick's job is to monitor Andy, but he prefers more intimate activities, none of them G-Rated. His choices, however, are often not his own. His ability to help Andy is limited by his bond to the Master Vampire.

Facing many trials and challenges along her path to redemption, Andy learns the value of her freedom might be set too high.

Trailer:
 

Excerpt:
A large black wolf trotted into the clearing to confront me. He had a white-tipped snout, white boots and mitts and would have looked cute had he not been the most intimidating Werewolf I’d ever seen. Standing tall and solid, power rolled off of his body. His eyes bore into mine. I sniffed the air. The strong Werewolf scent of rosemary swirled around me, strong and seductive, laced with sugar. A weird fuzzy sensation spread out from my chest. Whoa.
Alpha.
My other form growled low, demanding release, straining against my skin. The energy of the wolves built—layers upon layers of excitement and impatience. The air pulsated with anticipation. They could sense the imminent kill.
Let me out! My other form repeated, throwing her power against my built up walls, howling in defiance.
When the energy of the Werewolves surged, I finally released her. My wolf form flowed out fast, wiping out the feline in little more than a heartbeat. Smaller, weaker and the size of a natural wolf, a Shifter in this form was no match for a Werewolf, especially a dominant one. I had time to meet the eyes of the Alpha for only an instant before the pack leapt forward. My limbs shook. It went against every instinct ingrained within me, but I rolled onto my back—submissive.

Buy Links:

Available in print and all other electronic formats on July 16th, 2014



 Thanks for being here, J.C., and for sharing you book with us.