#IWSG: Favorite Aspect of Being a Writer

It's that time again. The 1st Wednesday of the month is Insecure Writers Support Group, the brainchild Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh 

Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Thanks, Alex, for starting this group and keeping it going. And thanks to this month's awesome hosts:  Joylene Nowell Butler, Jen Chandler, Mary Aalgaard, Lisa Buie Collard, Tamara Narayan, Tyrean Martinson, and Christine Rains!

Don't forget to check out the guidelines for this year's IWSG Anthology Contest!

My favorite aspect of writing is the spark of a new story. A first sentence, a character’s words, a setting. It can come at any time, especially in that twilight between sleep and awake. Or it could be something heard or read—the news, a TV program, a conversation in a restaurant. The worst time the spark can come is when I’m in the middle of another story. Sometimes, it will be the idea for a spinoff or a secondary character who demands her/his story. Leaving the current WIP to write a new story is not a good idea. So, I’ll open a new file and jot down the idea (so I don’t forget) then promptly return to the WIP.

I’ve known some writers who jump from story to story, not finishing anything. It takes discipline to ignore that siren’s call. And it’s hard.

Along with the spark, I love beginning a new story. I’ve never stared at a blank screen. That idea or spark has already prepared me for the first chapter.

Good News

My PI mystery, The Case of the Fabulous Fiancé, is a 2016 IDA (International Digital Award) Winner.

Blurb:

She’s at it again. Alex O’Hara just can’t say no to a new investigation. What do a 45-year-old boyfriend, a deadbeat dad, and a teenage runaway have in common? All new cases. With no receptionist, phone and internet problems, and her own boyfriend in the wind, Alex has no idea how she’ll manage. But the question for the past three months is why did Nick disappear. Is this the end of O’Hara & Palzetti?

Excerpt:

I read somewhere that men think about sex ninety-four percent of the time, maybe more. Women were more evolved and thought about other things. Around Nick Palzetti, my evolution took a nose dive. I remembered how good things had been between us. Not my doing, of course. When it came to lovemaking, he was the pro. I still had amateur status. And if I didn’t watch my step, I’d make a fool of myself again.

“Why are you back, Nick? Did you really think I would fall into your arms?” As if I hadn’t done just that.

He perched on the corner of my desk, again, then swung his foot in a lazy manner. “I’d hoped so.”

“Why? I’m not some bimbo you can jump into bed with and then say ‘I’ll be right back’. Right back does not mean no word for over two frelling months.”

I’d just done a “Farscape” marathon, for the third time, so frelling was my word of choice when I really wanted to say the other F-word.

His foot stopped swinging. Every muscle in his body tightened. The effect was fascinating and a little scary. His lips, which had been soft and caressing moments ago, thinned. His face became all sharp edges.

“What do you mean no word?” he asked in a voice that was too soft. Like I said, a little scary.

 Amazon ~ iBooks ~ ARe ~ Kobo ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Smashwords

Click here to find others on the Insecure Writers Support Group Blog Hop. Or go to IWSG on Facebook to see who’s blogging today.

Halloween, Baseball, and Politics

It’s the end of October. I have a hard time believing how quickly 2016 is passing. Actually, the next week can’t pass quickly enough. Don’t know about you, but I am so sick of the political ads. I was sick of them months ago. We, in the U.S., should copy the Canadians. Six weeks of campaigning, and they’re done. Election time. All those millions of dollars spent on campaigning could be used to pay down the national debt. Next Tuesday can’t come soon enough. 

Remember to vote. If you don't, you can't complain about the outcome.

How about those Cubs! If my Detroit Tigers or Mom’s St. Louis Cardinals can’t be in the World Series, then the Cubbies are my choice. We lived in Chicago for two and half years, so I can claim them. Last night’s game, #5, had me on the edge of my seat. Some people say watching baseball on TV is as exciting as watching paint dry. I say they’ve never watched a cliffhanger like last night’s game. Go, Cubs, go!

Halloween is such a fun holiday. Kids in costumes is my favorite part. I wonder how many Reys or Kylo Rens we’ll see this year.

I’ve always thought my sister was a little nuts for buying clothes for her dog. But the costumes people put on their dogs for Halloween make me laugh.

Here in West Michigan, the weather will be great for Trick or Treating. A little chilly but no rain. Yay! Hubs and I will sit out in our driveway with a huge bowl of candy guaranteed to rot kids’ teeth. LOL When my kids were young, Trick or Treating went on most of the evening. I love living in small towns where it’s limited to from 6 to 8 pm. We can turn out our porch lights at 8 and enjoy the rest of the evening. Inside.

Have fun tonight, but please watch out for the kiddies. They won’t be watching out for you.

#8Sunday - WeWriWa - THE PILOT

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warrior and 8 Sentence Sunday time, the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Writers share an 8 to12 sentence snippet. Be sure to visit the other writers. You can find them here.

Sorry about missing last week. My blogsite was all messed up. My fault, although I didn’t figure out what I’d done until Monday.

We’re still in THE PILOT, first book in my Outer Rim series about strong women on the frontier of space. It's on sale for 99 cents through the end of October. 

The day after Trevarr confiscates her ship and cargo, Celara is in a tavern where she gets a surprise.

Celara pushed her chair away from the table, climbed up on it, lifted her drink, and called out, “Listen your Rimmer scum, a toast--let’s hear it for the wonderful, fantabulous, Administrator Jovano, may he live long enough to enjoy good health.”

To her surprise, silence met her toast, no one raised their glasses or mugs, even in jest--everyone was looking past her and the only thing behind her was the door, booted footsteps rapped on the rough-hewn plank floor then stopped behind her.

“Thank you for the compliments and the good wishes for my longevity,” the baritone-and-chokiris voice said just over her shoulder.

If she ever needed a personal cloaking device, it was now—or a magic ring with which to disappear, because Sec Admin Trevarr Jovano stood behind her, waiting. Undaunted, she turned around, the room tipped, and she reached for the back of the chair. “Whoa, those mudslides sneak up on you.”

Missing the chair, she grabbed the closest thing, Trevarr Jovano’s broad, black-clad shoulders--beneath her fingers, the strong muscles contracted and he wasn’t smiling. “You should sit down before you fall down, or better yet, go home and sleep it off.”

A dark fury swept away the sweet tranquility of two tall Kruferian mudslides as she said, “I can’t go home, you snake, you stole my home.” She swung a round-house punch at him, missed her objective and would have fallen ignominiously off the chair had he not caught her. For several long secs, he held her tightly against his chest, her feet dangling off the floor a good twenty-five centimeters, but when his green eyes caught hers and darkened, the heat in the tavern rose ten degrees, her heart tripped, and the air leached out of her lungs. His eyes—she could drown in those green depths.

Life on the frontier of space is hard enough for a freighter pilot, so when pirates stole Celara d'Enfaden's cargo, she vowed not to be tricked again. Determined to make an example out of indie pilots who disobey orders, Coalition Administrator Trevarr Jovano impounds Celara’s starship and cargo. If he backs down, he’ll lose respect. If she can’t deliver her cargo, she’ll default on her loan and lose her only home—her ship. More important than her ship, though, is her brother. To rescue him from a galactic gangster, she’ll even work with Trevarr who’s bent on avenging his wife’s murder.

 Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, ARe, Smashwords.

Be sure to check out the other authors.  

Who's For Dinner with Nancy Gideon

Once I got over my first thought of cannibalism (hey, paranormal author!), I fell in love with the idea behind this blog topic. Who would you love to share some table talk with? A celebrity? A great mind? A religious icon?  My choice was immediate and not so grand as that. I’d love to share a meal with the one person who never said anything at the table beyond, “Pass the potatoes.” So Gandhi, Einstein, Jeremy Renner (Wait . . . maybe another time), nah. I’d like to sit down and pass the potatoes one more time with my dad.

My dad was the original strong, silent type, easily confused with John Wayne. He didn’t graduate high school, needing to go to work to help support his family, he carried the morphine in WWII in the Philippines, he grew our vegetables, was a  hunter/fisherman for all seasons with always the right tool for the job whether it be loose table leg or timing belt. He laughed at Bugs Bunny and the old guys in the Muppet Show while pretending to read the paper. The dry sink we built together in the garage has made every one of my moves even though it weighs a ton. He was my hero.

My dad died before he saw my sons, before he knew I’d realized my dream of seeing a book come out in a store where we shopped. He would have hated the idea that I now drive a Honda. And he would have pretended not to like my cats, the way he once did my gerbils. I wouldn’t want to sit down in a noisy, crowded restaurant with him. I’d fire up my grill and toss on a couple of really bad for you steaks, crack a Pabst and cut a slab of pie that we could eat outside with a dog begging underfoot. And I’d make him get beyond those few soft-spoken words to hear him talk about the things that made him a strong man – the Depression, his sister who died young, about how a shy farm boy got up the courage to ask my mom to marry him, about being in the thick of battle so far away from home, about those treasured days sitting out in the garage listening the Detroit Tigers on the radio, and how his love of pulp Western novels, hard boiled PIs and Perry Mason sparked my imagination and led to so many, many more words on the page than we ever shared in a lifetime.  I’d thank him for the food on the table, the roof over my head and the chance to get the education, he himself never had.  I’d show him pictures of his grandson. I loved my dad. I’d tell him that, too. And then I’d pass the potatoes.

I wouldn’t be who I am if he wasn’t who he was. Thanks, Dad. Here’s book Number 60. It doesn’t matter that you wouldn’t read, just that you’d be proud of it.

PRINCE OF HONOR

“House of Terriot” Book 1

The hunter becomes the prey, a prisoner to his own desire . . .

Turow . . .

Strong, silent man of integrity content to serve his new king as a prince in the turbulent shape-shifter House of Terriot. A tracker and relentless hunter, he’s used to running trails alone until charged with returning a traitor to their mountain top home to face the unforgiving judgment of their clan. Isolated with the bad girl he’s loved forever, the choice between duty and desire has never been more difficult . . . or deadly.

Could the bargain made to save their lives become reality?

Sylvia . . .

Manipulative schemer or victim caught between a mother’s ambition and a rogue prince’s lust for power? Trust is almost as foreign as the idea of love, but to save herself from certain death, she must risk both on the good man who deserves them . . . from someone worthy. Trapped by the only one who believes in her goodness, she must betray him and run for her life . . . or stay and destroy him with a long hidden truth.

Deadly, Damaged, and Delicious!

House of Terriot

Brothers too H.o.T. to Handle!

Excerpt from PRINCE OF HONOR:

Heat pounding off his body burned against the backs of her fingers as they bunched the bottom of his tee shirt, shucking it off him with a violent pull. Her palms prowled chest and shoulders, pausing for him to identify each unfamiliar scar.

At his collarbone: “Cale’s lesson on how to use a blade.”

At the glorious swell of a bicep: “Stephen. Bar fight he started and I had to finish.” Probably because he was too drunk, though Turow would never say so.

Across the hard ridge of his abdomen: “Sparring with Rico.”

Tongue dampening her lips, eyes glowing, obviously turned on by the catalog of combat, Sylvia let her fingertip follow a thin line across his left pec as she purred, “And this one?”

“You. Where you broke my heart.”

Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ ARe ~ Kobo ~ iBooks

Nancy Gideon is the award winning author of over 59 romances ranging from historical, regency and series contemporary suspense to dark paranormal, with a couple of horror screenplays tossed into the mix, and is currently testing the “Hybrid Author” waters of self-publishing.  When not at the keyboard, this central Michigan writer feeds a Netflix addiction along with all things fur, fin and fowl. She also has written under the pen names Dana Ransom, Rosalyn West and Lauren Giddings.

Website, Blog  Facebook Twitter Pintrest Goodreads Goodreads “Nancy Gideon by Moonlight” group Amazon

Thanks for pulling out a chair for me today, Di! Pass the potatoes.

THREE FRENCH INNS by Patricia Kiyono

I'm so happy to welcome Patricia Kiyono back to my blog. Patty is a fellow member Mid-Michigan RWA chapter. Since we live fairly close, we often carpool to chapter meetings, so I've heard about this story as it developed. I was excited to read the finished product. (See my review below.)

Here's Patricia to tell you how THREE FRENCH INNS came about.

Three French Inns is the third in a series that began several years ago in response to a call-out for holiday stories. The requirements were simple: each story had to feature a duke, and needed to have one scene taking place at the 1812 Christmas ball hosted by Lord and Lady Kringle. The series would be marketed as The Twelve Dukes of Christmas. Being a musician, the series title made me think of the Christmas song and I went to the first verse for my inspiration. Even though I’d never written a regency, I went to work on what eventually became The Partridge and the Peartree. The story featured Phillip Peartree, Duke of Bartlett, and Lady Amelia Partridge.

Even though the book sold well, I wanted a chance to make some changes, and when the contract expired I got my rights back and republished it with changes that were more historically accurate, as well as some new scenes. And since some of my readers requested a sequel, I came up with Two Tutor Doves, the story of the duke’s valet, Robert Townley, and Amelia’s maid, Jeanne Brown. I learned I enjoyed writing about this era, but not necessarily about the endless rules of the ton. So even while I worked on Two Tutor Doves I started planning additional stories, and as soon as that book was complete I began outlining the next book.

Last week, Eskape Press released the third story in the series, Three French Inns. For this story, I focused on Jeanne Brown’s brother Pierre. Two Tutor Doves ended with Jeanne vowing to look for her brother, who’d been missing for several years. He’s been in the army, fighting against Napoleon. I needed a way to get him back in France, and I needed a way to weave three different inns into the story, because I had the title before I had the story!

The first inn was easy. Caroline and her father run Hôtel Bouchard, set in the French Alps. The third inn is the one that Pierre buys for Caroline after her father’s inn burns down. The journey that Pierre and Caroline take to get to that third inn is both dangerous (riding on horseback through the French Alps in winter is not my idea of fun!) and emotional.

I hope you enjoy my historical Christmas series!

Blurb:

Peter Brown joined His Majesty’s Army in the fight against Napoleon, but when he was wounded, a lovely French woman tended him. She was a recent widow, and they were on opposing sides of the war, so they went their separate ways. But he never forgot his “bel ange” — his beautiful angel.

Caroline Bouchard Duval marched with her husband in Napoleon’s army, eager to leave her sleepy village and see the world. But after being widowed, she returned to her childhood home in the French Alps. When a bloody traveler enters her father’s inn, she recognizes him immediately. Could this man give her another chance to fulfill her dreams?

Buy Links: Three French Inns is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, All-Romance ebooks, and Kobo.

Author bio:

During her first career, Patricia Kiyono taught elementary music, computer classes, elementary classrooms, and junior high social studies. She now teaches music education at the university level.

She lives in southwest Michigan with her husband, not far from her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Current interests, aside from writing, include sewing, crocheting, scrapbooking, and music. A love of travel and an interest in faraway people inspires her to create stories about different cultures.

Author Links: Patricia Kiyono can be found at her website and blog, and on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest.

Diane's Review:

I love the titles of this series’ play on words from the Christmas carol, “Partridge in a Pear Tree,” almost as much as I love the stories themselves. In this story, the characters are well-drawn and likeable. I admire Caroline’s marching with her husband and soldiers in Napoleon’s army. What an adventure and how disappointing that she had to return home after her husband’s death. Although the story was written to entertain, I loved learning new things. The plot is a bit predictable. After all, it’s a romance, and we readers love our Happy Ever Afters. What wasn’t as predictable was the compromise two people in love made. Isn’t that what love is all about? A delightful holiday story.

Chrys Fey's 30 SECONDS BEFORE

On Saturday, I was celebrating the launch of Chrys Fey's new release 30 Seconds Before. For some weird reason, the post made a mess out of the blogsite, people couldn't comment, and Blogger was  no help.

So even though it's late, here's the info on Chrys' new book.

30 SECONDS BEFORE BLURB:

Blake Herro is a cop in the Cleveland Police Force. Ever since he was a child he wanted to do right by the city he loved by cleaning up the streets and protecting its citizens. Red, a notorious mobster, has other plans.

On a bitter December night, ten police officers are drawn into a trap and killed by Red’s followers. Blake wants to bring down the Mob to avenge his fallen brothers and to prevent other cops from being murdered. Except the only way he can do that is by infiltrating the Mob.

Every minute he’s with these mobsters he’s in danger. Around every corner lies the threat of coming face to face with a gun. Will he make it out of the Mob alive or will he be their next victim?

BUY LINKS:

Amazon US / Amazon UK /  Amazon CA

NOOK / KOBO / The Wild Rose Press

To celebrate, 30 Seconds, the follow up story, is on sale for 99 cents!

Sale Oct. 21^st – Nov. 4th

SALE LINKS:

Amazon / The Wild Rose Press / NOOK / KOBO

BIO:

Chrys Fey is the author of the Disaster Crimes Series (Hurricane Crimes and Seismic Crimes), as well as these releases from The Wild Rose Press: 30 Seconds, Ghost of Death, and Witch of Death. Website / Blog / Facebook / Twitter

Chrys sponsored a blogfest where the participants wrote about "If I were a Mobster." :

Here's mine:

Listen up, youse guys. This here’s my turf. Dee-troit, Michigan. And nobody messes with Mary O’Toole.

Hands off. You get a scratch on me Duesenberg, I’ll get out my trusty 44 Magnum (yeah, like Dirty Harry) and blow youse guys away.

They don’t call me Dirty Mary for nuttin’. I’m the baddest moll in Chips O’Toole’s gang. He’s me boy, see? So whatever I say goes. Now get on outa here. Go play in traffic.

Or go visit the other "mobsters."

Who's For Dinner with Linda NIghtingale

From the time I was a young girl, I’ve had an interest in the Abdication of Edward VIII, later Duke of York, to marry “the woman I love” – an American divorcee Wallis Simpson. Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David was born June 23, 1894.  His family called him David.  I have his memoirs titled A King’s Story.  It’s a grand look behind the scenes at the British monarchy and the Victorians.  His grandmother was Queen Victoria. His reign lasted 326 days.

To me, he is a romantic figure.  I’d love to have dinner with a Prince who gave up a throne for a woman.  It is said, though raised as a future King, David was not really suited to his role.  I’d like to find out why, but I’d like to understand what Wallis’ hold over him was.  As you can see by the photo, she was no great beauty (their wedding day).

Many of my heroes are aristocracy, and my WIP called Royal Secrets is about a prince who abdicates.  This story was inspired by Edward’s story, though apparently the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, living in retirement in France, were never truly happy.  I’d like to know if it was the Crown or the King wearing it she coveted.

A bit about the person: He played the bagpipes.  He liked spending time on the family yacht. He was very much for the working man. He rode, shot, and hunted as gentlemen did in those days.

I found this tidbit interesting:   In 1917, during the First World War, he began a love affair with Parisian courtesan Marguerite Alibert, who kept a collection of his indiscreet letters after he broke off the affair in 1918 to begin one with an English married woman, Freda Dudley Ward, a textile heiress. In 1923, Alibert was acquitted in a spectacular murder trial after she shot her husband in the London Savoy.  (Wikipedia).

I’d ask Edward (preferably without Wallis):

     What was it about Wallis that drew you to her so passionately? 

     Did you ever really want to be King?  

     Why did they call you the Playboy Prince? 

     You gave up a throne—were you happy as the Duke of Windsor with ‘the woman I love’?

     Would you be my prince charming? (although he was very short and I’m 5’8”, I’d wear flats).

I’d show David my latest release from The Wild Rose Press, 

Morgan D’Arcy: A Vampyre Rhapsody.  Rhapsody is a collection of short stories starring my favorite hero, Morgan. There’s a free read on my website called Vampyre Interlude.  It is a Morgan story, perhaps., his darker side.

About Linda:

Born in South Carolina, Linda has lived in England, Canada, Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Atlanta and Houston.  She’s seen a lot of this country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer, having bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for many years.

Linda has won several writing awards, including the Georgia Romance Writers Magnolia Award.   She is the mother of two wonderful sons, a retired legal assistant, member of the Houston Symphony League, and enjoys events with her car club.  Among her favorite things are her snazzy black convertible and her parlor grand piano.  She loves to dress up and host formal dinner parties.

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LNightingale

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/LindaNightingaleAuthor

Web Site:  http://www.lindanightingale.com – Visit and look around. There’s a free continuing vampire story.

Blog:  https://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/ - Lots of interesting guests & prizes

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4839311.Linda_Nightingale

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/lbnightingale1/

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Linda-Nightingale/e/B005OSOJ0U

Book Video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlbRLTFQUHE

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Books: 

Gambler’s Choice

Love For Sale

Sinner’s Opera

Sinner’s Obsession

Cardinal Desires

Gemini Rising – Controversial Dark Fantasy with deep psychological undertones