tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29194022648167836892024-02-19T04:33:25.392-05:00There's all this stuff in my head...Barbara Donlon Bradley's blog on writing. Posts are author interviews and helpful hints on writing techniques.Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.comBlogger309125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-17215176049177252282021-08-02T13:11:00.000-04:002021-08-02T13:11:21.252-04:00<p> This is a little off topic but there are times when you need to vent. I think I've explained that my mom has dementia. It is an ugly awful decease that I hate. I watch my mom fade away a little more every day. Her dementia is different than the classic case. Does it effect her memory? Yes. Yet she knows who I am. I get a lot of I don't know and have learned that she doesn't always understand what we're saying and I have to make sure I use words she can understand.</p><p>Being a writer helps right now because I know all about word choice. It just breaks my heart to see her this way.</p><p><br /></p>Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-82430476600393696632021-07-12T13:50:00.001-04:002021-07-12T13:50:52.999-04:00<p> Here's a quick update. I have another book coming out. This one is under Barbara Donlon Bradley and through Melange. It's a sequel to A quest for Love which was my very first futuristic romance.</p><p>Magical Quest is the working title and it's due out next year!</p><p><br /></p>Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-12659413999462310512021-02-18T10:18:00.000-05:002021-02-18T10:18:03.919-05:00<p>The Vespian Way:</p><p><br /></p><p>Well. my publisher changed the covers on my books to make them look uniform. Aren't they pretty?</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOThyYPPXzzpQIROvpVA7XF0A5hsSgpY1AOI2qgwYsoED9uaA3ReUM5_vK6aB4vLCWzZ_1tyWv3EtvZsFopVPpOgrrs7C87cR6l2nSbQm9vtOirS1xiDU6PKPrXLKFii6PiaSaMRl8PkhB/s700/Desirres+destiny+new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="479" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOThyYPPXzzpQIROvpVA7XF0A5hsSgpY1AOI2qgwYsoED9uaA3ReUM5_vK6aB4vLCWzZ_1tyWv3EtvZsFopVPpOgrrs7C87cR6l2nSbQm9vtOirS1xiDU6PKPrXLKFii6PiaSaMRl8PkhB/s320/Desirres+destiny+new.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25TYw3KrjC7ZYLvwan-BLweHV51ioswz5rud8KQY0sS6Pt8GncrnRknV3AQIbVEPtfMhvINneP31cGFlHCBJShwmHzO6L2wnDBBCclrqSBLE7eQP1dhFXL2yZkHDQ5B869IGNpscQf09_/s700/desires+duty+new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="479" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25TYw3KrjC7ZYLvwan-BLweHV51ioswz5rud8KQY0sS6Pt8GncrnRknV3AQIbVEPtfMhvINneP31cGFlHCBJShwmHzO6L2wnDBBCclrqSBLE7eQP1dhFXL2yZkHDQ5B869IGNpscQf09_/s320/desires+duty+new.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-8QROVYyOxuUd9m1BQMiggRtDZ89garxXkLJXcullrBeQFaobWt76zTHwmvK-mTqsAB9UCD6YYBHONjaUJidnbBxzp7IKTmfmrgsBymjuI0rIw95q4Upb2Uv07qD_6d3T4NXIAnjKNhU/s700/Desire%2527s+Promise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="479" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4-8QROVYyOxuUd9m1BQMiggRtDZ89garxXkLJXcullrBeQFaobWt76zTHwmvK-mTqsAB9UCD6YYBHONjaUJidnbBxzp7IKTmfmrgsBymjuI0rIw95q4Upb2Uv07qD_6d3T4NXIAnjKNhU/s320/Desire%2527s+Promise.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-3340317964687805672021-02-12T13:29:00.001-05:002021-02-12T13:30:11.480-05:00<p> So I fell off the face of the planet again. Sorry, Life got in the way but time is my friend again and I hope to make a better effort to show up her more often. First I need to update this page, then start posting again. Bear with me while I get everything up to date.</p><p>Barb:)</p><p><br /></p>Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-69618513910008552632019-02-25T11:53:00.001-05:002019-02-25T11:56:19.405-05:00New Cover!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have two new covers - A Quest For Love and Desire's Duty I love them both!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml8tDlklVVADrMek0zfCuSLjdhOBd53cOUej5rCakMDwgm6UiL1KYhmNAUoRGcq1FX07bOujg-mgs0iPEx2NvDxyO64AdH5TAwLgHgfeGFkkZAKeo54PQ8h-1XgnuhSpZdlM-aqyUx4mc/s1600/QuesteBook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1057" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml8tDlklVVADrMek0zfCuSLjdhOBd53cOUej5rCakMDwgm6UiL1KYhmNAUoRGcq1FX07bOujg-mgs0iPEx2NvDxyO64AdH5TAwLgHgfeGFkkZAKeo54PQ8h-1XgnuhSpZdlM-aqyUx4mc/s320/QuesteBook.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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A Quest for love will be released by Melange/Satin romance this spring!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVhIalZ2wGJvrQ40kwUjzLAQbObQxfaIVogm_OzsMd7Huln0NbJe-ZJR6LSUTXclc9sn6To1jre8LLi-YOh8vEKB54Kw4qGg10hWeo7UBVVzs0vl3BAyPfVllDB8TCA2s4Z3j1kjpI9jk/s1600/desire%2527s_duty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1095" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVhIalZ2wGJvrQ40kwUjzLAQbObQxfaIVogm_OzsMd7Huln0NbJe-ZJR6LSUTXclc9sn6To1jre8LLi-YOh8vEKB54Kw4qGg10hWeo7UBVVzs0vl3BAyPfVllDB8TCA2s4Z3j1kjpI9jk/s320/desire%2527s_duty.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
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Desire's Duty will be released March 7th by Blushing Books/Eclipse!</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-82511278062075744212018-10-11T12:44:00.000-04:002018-10-11T12:44:18.946-04:00New Release<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Now the craziness starts...I have the new cover of my Vespian Way series. I also have a pen name - Bethany Drake. I have enough trouble writing on this blog so I'm not sure if I'll create a new one, but I'll keep you posted as I get caught up on everything...I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-pIoPpwRr0G_zZwn67f5PEZqe96-ch3UK3PZAoeFyxlqX89ByeXxEF1tak5vAuG5b4DJb97SqXy-IO1cCIV2OdyizhSXkfxemQQK2IuFVp6_-Z6MDk0LVNk3kdspFIbJR9LieX38luHF/s1600/desire%2527s_destiny+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1095" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-pIoPpwRr0G_zZwn67f5PEZqe96-ch3UK3PZAoeFyxlqX89ByeXxEF1tak5vAuG5b4DJb97SqXy-IO1cCIV2OdyizhSXkfxemQQK2IuFVp6_-Z6MDk0LVNk3kdspFIbJR9LieX38luHF/s320/desire%2527s_destiny+4.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-47111849768894581962018-09-20T22:54:00.000-04:002018-09-20T22:54:42.207-04:00New Release info!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm excited to say that I have a lot of news to tell you.<br />
<br />
First, as I told you guys a while ago I pulled all my books from Phaze.<br />
<br />
Satin Romance, and imprint of Melange Books has accepted three of my titles.<br />
<br />
A Portrait in Time is available for prerelease now with the full release on September 25th. I'll post links as soon as I have them.<br />
Here's the cover!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1sNyrXmDbt4cEiu33wQDgEqaOQL3Tf0o0WiCTo4XMTf5ws9c2SGsuXVeVwlIFnWtxtdW53zY5NntAvruP-Vn4oEsz8DQtajciAKl69tOl6m5nVN0i16CWIcy38ZwZ6KokeAOvo-uh9vw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-07-01+at+3.02.31+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1037" data-original-width="688" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1sNyrXmDbt4cEiu33wQDgEqaOQL3Tf0o0WiCTo4XMTf5ws9c2SGsuXVeVwlIFnWtxtdW53zY5NntAvruP-Vn4oEsz8DQtajciAKl69tOl6m5nVN0i16CWIcy38ZwZ6KokeAOvo-uh9vw/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-07-01+at+3.02.31+PM.png" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Love on the Run, the sequel to A Portrait in Time, will be available between mid-October and beginning of November. I have the cover now.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgxR8d4EkeRHjx9aclIh9C0nF9EITzYVMuCnDDbcTgHRHdr__WN2xTF4glAEnruBIK1A-zwBOX73aQhPonQOFEP_8rQr_EAQovaFsglH-pHWffNneeyp6ZP-fMsCdine_EmLvCloM-ILU/s1600/LoveontheRuneBook+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1059" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgxR8d4EkeRHjx9aclIh9C0nF9EITzYVMuCnDDbcTgHRHdr__WN2xTF4glAEnruBIK1A-zwBOX73aQhPonQOFEP_8rQr_EAQovaFsglH-pHWffNneeyp6ZP-fMsCdine_EmLvCloM-ILU/s320/LoveontheRuneBook+%25281%2529.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<br />
A Quest for Love will be released as well and I'll post the cover as soon as I get it.<br />
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In other exciting news I have found a home for my Desire series. Blushing Books has accepted the first two books and I'm getting ready to send in the next two.<br />
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They have also accepted a new manuscript called the Tears of the Queen.<br />
<br />
Barb:)<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-58725902981708126262018-08-06T18:43:00.000-04:002018-08-06T18:43:11.814-04:00Updates<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know I've still been quiet but I have been plugging away. I'm excited to say I have found a home for my desire series plus I have a new book coming out through Blushing Books. The new book is called Tears of the Queen and is a urban fantasy.<div>
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<div>
A Portrait in Time will be re-released soon. I have the new cover and still waiting for the release date. I'm so happy to know I could find another home for it. When I read through the book after all these years I was pleasantly surprised. I did a good job considering it was my first.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZXLO6Fe1WiDZN9FniLK7rw8guI6PTQWG1sZJBOhEOX_uK_jDr_5gttfLcVU2Ypmcq1RJekaPMDXkylyf3Vc4oy0-8UCCBZ1uivdFNewPcBJIkqkxXiefH7vxfwnUTEuClCQDgNqd6Opv/s1600/PortraitTime_front+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZXLO6Fe1WiDZN9FniLK7rw8guI6PTQWG1sZJBOhEOX_uK_jDr_5gttfLcVU2Ypmcq1RJekaPMDXkylyf3Vc4oy0-8UCCBZ1uivdFNewPcBJIkqkxXiefH7vxfwnUTEuClCQDgNqd6Opv/s320/PortraitTime_front+%25281%2529.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know I mentioned about me caring for my mom but I didn't mention that she has dementia. One of the reasons why I'll continue to be sporadic in posting. Over all Mom is good, she is cognizant and can do a lot by herself. But I've been busy making sure I have everything ready for when she can't make decisions on her own. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I hope to get back to hosting authors and advising new writers but right now I'm living day by day trying to get everything back in order so I can fet things back to normal.</div>
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<div>
Barb:)</div>
</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-16519390619493098372017-10-05T18:28:00.000-04:002017-10-06T21:20:35.354-04:00What Happened to Barbara Donlon Bradley part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So when I stopped writing I worried I wouldn't go back to it. I had finished with the first draft of my tenth book in the Vespian Way series. Normally I do take a break between books, but it's only a few days before I'm right back at it. With this break it was months. Like I said part of it was morning for the loss of my mother-in-law. It got really hard on us toward the end, and I used writing to escape. Suddenly I didn't have the stress that pushed me to write.<br />
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I also haven't been feeling the warm fuzzies from my publisher recently. The sales just haven't been there and it's not from lack of advertising. I've decided to pull my titles. Now my questions are what do I do with them. Should I go the route of self publishing? Should I try to find another publisher? This are big questions and the reason I think I stopped writing. I don't know what to do.<br />
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I have no idea on how to self publish, how to find covers, getting ISBN numbers. It's all a bit daunting. So is finding a new publisher. Having to submit this books through another editing process isn't easy. What if the editor doesn't like my writing style?<br />
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I'd love to hear from you guys to see what you suggest. </div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-77331655786038632032017-06-03T00:47:00.000-04:002017-06-03T00:47:48.385-04:00What happened to Barbara Donlon Bradley?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Actually, nothing.<br />
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But I did fall off the radar. I haven't been posting for what? Six months? And the six months before that I had to push myself to get my interviews up on time.<br />
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I needed a break so I took one.<br />
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First, let me catch you up to speed. First lets start with life in general. I was care-giver for my mother-in-law for six years. While we lived with her I started writing my Vespian Way series and wrote nine, almost ten books during that time. I think I wrote to escape because she and I banged heads a lot.<br />
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Sometime in June/July of last year I just stopped writing. I think it was my way of morning her passing back in February of 2016. I also picked up a part-time job that has me up at 4:30 in the morning two days a week. Now that might not sound like much, but it actually messes up four days for me because I have to go to bed so darn early the day before and am normally too tired to think the days I work those early hours.<br />
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I also have been thinking about leaving my publisher, which is for another blog. So writing wasn't something I wanted to do. I still edited for the publisher I work for, but everything went by the wayside.<br />
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I'm glad I did that. I needed to take a step away.<br />
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Now I'm ready to get back to it.<br />
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Barb:)</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-21946468423350198722017-01-14T11:37:00.000-05:002017-01-14T11:37:11.895-05:00Keeping it all in Prospective @barbbradley<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi All!<br />
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Happy New year! Belated Merry Christmas/what you celebrate! I've had one heck of a year. I'm sure those of you that follow me have noticed I have all but disappeared. Oh sure I posted my interviews but nothing else.<br />
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I found my time gone and I blamed it on everything but the real cause. It took the holidays to make me look at what I've not been doing.<br />
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I haven't been writing.<br />
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When I was elected the president of the Chesapeake Romance Writers, a local chapter of RWA, I realized then I wasn't writing. At that time I had a writing partner who had stopped writing. How could I tell the authors in the group to write every day when I wasn't? So I started on a Portrait in Time and the rest is history.<br />
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I think this blog is the same thing. Here I am giving advise and sharing handouts from my and my mother-in-law's collection and I'm not writing. How can I do that and feel good about myself?<br />
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I realized I was in mourning over the loss of my mother-in-law back in February. I just had a weird way of showing it. The series I've been working on, the Vespian Way, was all written while I cared for June and I think I used the excuse of what to do with my series as an excuse to step back and think about it. Then this past Sunday I had to put my beloved cat, Dina, down. That's Madame Fluffy Bottom above. That brought it all full circle.<br />
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I have started writing again. I'm editing a book I wrote years ago and am revamping sections of it to make it sooo much stronger. When I'm ready I'll go back to the Vespian Way. Those character's aren't leaving me alone so I know they'll keep pushing until I get back to book 10 and start book 11. That I'm happy about, but since I haven't lined up any interviews for the next few weeks I think I'm going to take a step back. Line up some great speakers starting in February and face 2017 head on.</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-13160909225549247682017-01-07T15:36:00.000-05:002017-01-07T15:36:31.892-05:00Welcome Rosalie Redd! @RosalieRedd<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I want to welcome Rosalie
Redd to my blog. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks, Barbara, for inviting me on your blog. A little
about myself, I live in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep
writing. When not at my computer, you can find me at Jazzercise, waterfall
collecting in the Pacific Northwest, or relaxing with my hubby and our pesky
cat, Snookums.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
My latest release is <b>Unimaginable
Lover</b>, book 3 in my <b>Warriors of
Lemuria</b> series. It’s a continuation of the war over Earth’s water, but this
time, Council Leader Tanen takes on a solo mission to bring a traitor to
justice. Mortally wounded during the hunt, he’s rescued by an enchanting female
who nurses him back to health. Despite the passion that burns between them,
she’s human…and therefore, forbidden.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>1.) Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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My favorite villain would have to be Dr. Hannibal Lecter
from Silence of the Lambs. He’s evil to the core, yet sadistically enthralling.
You can’t help but get sucked into his penetrating eyes and smooth tone. It
doesn’t get much creepier than that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>2.) Who is your
favorite character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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My favorite character from my books would have to be Ram.
He’s the antagonist in <b>Untouchable Lover</b>
(book 1) and <b>Untamable Lover </b>(book
2). I have a soft spot for broken heroes and downtrodden antagonists. There’s
just something about a bad guy who still pines for his lost love. Despite that
he’s bound to serve his god, Zedron, and fight in the war, what he longs for
more than anything is to reunite with his ex-wife. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>3.) What genre do you
write? What made you pick that one?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I write paranormal romance and a little science fiction
romance. Growing up, my father introduced me to many of the classics in science
fiction, fantasy, and horror from Tolkien to Frank Herbert to Poe. I was
fascinated with anything otherworldly and loved to see the characters grow and
develop throughout the stories. My mother introduced me to soap operas and it
wasn’t until I read my first paranormal romance did I fall in love with the
genre. It blended my fascination of otherworldly creatures with my love of
romance. I was hooked from then on.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’m currently working on <b>Undeniable Lover</b>, book 4 in my series. This one features Saar, the
Commander of Arms, and a male with a hardened heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>5.) What got you to
start writing?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Characters and stories started floating around in my head
several years ago. Finally, I began to listen and started writing down what
they were telling me. Soon, I had a good rough draft for <b>Untouchable Lover</b> and never looked back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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That’s a tough one. Sometimes the ideas come from an odd
comment I might hear in the grocery store checkout line or from a clip on the
news, but most of the time, something pops into my head, and I think…hmmm…what
if?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Hmmm… A while back I competed in a Dance Dance Revolution
gaming competition and actually made it to the second round. I have some pretty
slick dance moves. LOL!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I can read upside down and backwards. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Don’t give up. Tenacity and a positive attitude can work
wonders.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what
would you talk about?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’d like to talk to the aliens that visited Earth long ago.
I’d want to know what planet they came from and why they created us. Yep, I’m
an ancient alien theorist.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Journey’s <b>Don’t Stop
Believin’!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Hands down, a cat. Pet me, pet me, pet me…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_IIcGEbkRmeugA3tIHvjTR7AcjGlOkG1ZoUjHwlFDBRHXFlpJO13LkRyMwuwCHOOYkhdJu5qA5pBfSGWDzD89mxx1B8y6MNtF5N9yx8PGFA9UeVua3lmOAUMsP3BXhrHGlMpJpyHxvco/s1600/Rosalie+Redd++15+for+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_IIcGEbkRmeugA3tIHvjTR7AcjGlOkG1ZoUjHwlFDBRHXFlpJO13LkRyMwuwCHOOYkhdJu5qA5pBfSGWDzD89mxx1B8y6MNtF5N9yx8PGFA9UeVua3lmOAUMsP3BXhrHGlMpJpyHxvco/s320/Rosalie+Redd++15+for+web.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Social Media Links:</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Facebook author: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK8"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK7"></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/rosaliereddauthor">https://www.facebook.com/rosaliereddauthor</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/RosalieRedd">https://twitter.com/RosalieRedd</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/34148783-rosalie-redd">https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/34148783-rosalie-redd</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Pinterest: <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/rosalieredd/">https://www.pinterest.com/rosalieredd/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Website: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK37"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK22"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK20"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK6"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="OLE_LINK5"></a><a href="http://www.rosalieredd.com/">http://www.rosalieredd.com</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Amazon author page: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/r.html?C=Z9SQXHR9LXA4&R=2GO93BK9URXW&T=C&U=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fauthor%2Frosalieredd%3Fref_%3Dpe_1724030_132998060&A=75ABWEUKPBJWCBRSGP6MFOLQ7FCA&H=IL2UNYLMB11CDSIH3AAJQEAYKV0A&ref_=pe_1724030_132998060"><span style="color: #103cc0; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">https://www.amazon.com/author/rosalieredd</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Buy Links:</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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Amazon US: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N7K0PCU">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N7K0PCU</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Amazon AU: <a href="https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01N7K0PCU">https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01N7K0PCU</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Amazon UK: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N7K0PCU">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N7K0PCU</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Amazon CA: <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N7K0PCU">https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N7K0PCU</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unimaginable-lover-rosalie-redd/1125333110"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">B&N: </span>http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unimaginable-lover-rosalie-redd/1125333110</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Kobo: <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/unimaginable-lover">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/unimaginable-lover</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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ibooks: <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1185271791">https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1185271791</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZhNsT0fw7FibsF4nYFqacW00EGa3tH26NU1mrt7fNal1oc9wmr01Z8wwY790XDptGN2vD0CfH-T9yU576KlktH8O-6fR1WiYl5w4c1PoKp2TYja63wrs_tM5qP65mWtFZVcIXaDu3E7r/s1600/Unimaginable+Lover+OTHER+SITES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZhNsT0fw7FibsF4nYFqacW00EGa3tH26NU1mrt7fNal1oc9wmr01Z8wwY790XDptGN2vD0CfH-T9yU576KlktH8O-6fR1WiYl5w4c1PoKp2TYja63wrs_tM5qP65mWtFZVcIXaDu3E7r/s320/Unimaginable+Lover+OTHER+SITES.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Excerpt from Unimaginable Lover:</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mauree’s naked skin glistened in the moonlight. She stood at
the base of the waterfall, sluicing water away from her face and through her
beautiful blonde hair. Her full breasts bobbed as she moved, her nipples peaked
from the cold water. His gaze tracked to her narrow waist, over her
well-rounded hips and down her perfect legs. Not long ago he’d have paid any
price to see her bare flesh. Now, she was nothing but a traitor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her shower complete, Mauree headed for the shore. She
squeezed water from her shoulder-length hair and picked up her ragged clothes.
“Tanen, you can come out now. No need to hide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Craya!</span></i><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> His heartburn flared to life, and he swallowed the bitter taste in his
mouth. Inside his coat’s front pocket, he gripped the cool, rough surface of
the sacred blue sunstone. The tension in his shoulders eased, if only for a
moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For weeks he’d searched the ancient scriptures for the
unusual punishment of treason. The pressure had gotten the better of him, and
he’d given in to his kleptomania, stealing the magical blue sunstone from the
Throne room. He’d eventually found the right text outlining the death sentence.
On the way to deliver the news, he’d discovered Mauree’s empty cell. He
couldn’t face his king on either count and had pursued the traitor on his own. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A low, bell-like laugh echoed from the water’s edge. “Come
now, Tanen. Did you really think I didn’t know you trailed me? It’s about time
we talked, don’t you think?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He adjusted his collar and traced his fingers over his lapel
pin. The engraved symbol stood for Lemuria or “Mu” and was his most precious
adornment, signifying his status as council leader. He gritted his teeth and
stepped into the open. “There’s nothing to say. For assisting the Gossum, our
dark enemy, <i>and</i> for attempting to kill the queen and her unborn child,
I’m taking you back to the Keep to—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“…face the
death sentence? You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-55965372981176538332016-12-10T12:23:00.001-05:002016-12-10T12:23:27.651-05:00Welcome Janet Lane-Walters Back to my Blog @JanetL717<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>I want to welcome Janet
Lane-Walters. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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As I often tell people I’ve been writing since the dark ages
it hasn’t quite been that long. I’ve been published since 1968 with a few years
off to return to nursing to help children through college. Many of my books
have some kind of medicine involved. Some are nurse/doctor romances. Others can
contain other forms of healing since I write in several subgenres including
fantasy both YA and adult, paranormal and mysteries. I live in the scenic <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Hudson</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Valley</st1:placetype></st1:place>
with my husband of fifty-five years. I’ve four children. Our youngest is an
adopted bi-racial young woman. There are now seven grandchildren, three
bi-racial and three Chinese.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>Seducing the Baker</b>
– This is the sixth and final book in the series. The heroine owns a cupcake
bakery. What fun I had researching cupcakes. The hero is a man who does
investigation work for a series of magazines and is asked by one of the editors
to have the heroine sign for a feature of Cupcakes – Sweet and Spicy. The hero
and heroine knew each other when they lived in neighboring group homes. In
face, she is the only girl who turned him down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>1.) Who is your
favorite author? Do you feel you write like them? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I don’t have one favorite author. I have a lot. I don’t
think I write like any of them. Andre Norton is one of my favorite fantasy
writers, but Mercedes Lackey comes a close second. In mysteries Joan Hall Hovey
is a great read. For historicals Mary Jo Putney and Jo Beverly are some I like.
Action adventure stories finds me reading James Rollins. Would really like to
write like them all, but that would be a rather mixed up book if I tried.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>2.) What was your
favorite book growing up?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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While growing up I was a reader and reader. I’m not sure I
could point to a favorite because I read just about everything. Had read
through the entire local library’s children’s book section by the time I was
ten and moved to other books. I even read every one of my textbooks from
beginning to end every year. I just enjoyed escaping in the pages of books.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>3.) Are you a plotter
or a pantser and why did you choose that method?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’ve decided I either neither or both. When an idea comes, I
sit down and tell myself a story. I write this out and this totally tell story
can be from five pages to many. When I was writing my YA fantasy series there
were well over a hundred pages and I knew this wasn’t one book. The characters come
alive in my head and from there I divide this into chapters and write with
changes occurring as the characters and I decide the original idea has changed.
The one thing I am for the first two to three drafts, I write by hand. I think
better with a pen in my hand and doing this gives me time to think.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>4.) Do you consider
writing a career or a hobby? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Writing is an obsession. Writing is something I must do.
Therefore it’s not really a hobby and since I don’t earn enough to live on
comfortably I don’t think it’s a career. Guess I’m stuck somewhere between.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>5.) What are you
working on now? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’m working on the <b>Cancer
Capricorn Connection</b> the fourth in <b>Opposites
in Love</b> Series. The heroine, a Cancer has an eight year old child. She is a
nurse and a specialist in Rehab Medicine. The hero is an orthopedic surgeon and
a Capricorn. The kicker is that he is her child’s father and when they
graduated from college he took off on his motorcycle without telling her where
he was going. She is angry and when he comes into her life again, she has to
tell her daughter who he is.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>6.) What one piece of
advice would you like to pass on to an up and coming author?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Don’t give up. Persistence pays. Find a time every day to write
and it doesn’t matter how many words you put on the paper. Just keep writing
until you reach the end. Then revise, revise, revise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>7.) If you had the
ability to time travel and your first visit was to see a younger version of
yourself what would you say to that younger self?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Life is full of interesting things. Enjoy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>8.) You just got a
million dollars, whether it’s from an inheritance, the lottery, or a sweet book
deal doesn’t matter. What would be the first thing you would buy for yourself?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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A plane ticket to see my kids who live at a distance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>9.) If you could
un-invent one thing in the world what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Gun powder.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>10.) What is your
favorite movie/TV Show? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I enjoy most crime shows. Right now Hawaii Five-O heads the
list. Like all the actors.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Excerpt from
<b>Seducing The Baker</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Chapter Two<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A frown creased Grace’s forehead. Did she know this man? Something
resonated in her memories but no name bobbed to the surface. He resembled the
faceless man of her fantasies. The hair, short and styles instead of long and
shaggy. Was he someone she’d seen on TV, except she watched cooking shows, not
sports, prime time or movies?<o:p></o:p></div>
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“How did you get in here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“By the door.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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His crooked grin brought a name closer to the surface. Did he look like
someone she should know? “Why did Bonnie let you come into the kitchen?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The arrival of a flock of customers derailed her.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grace sucked in a breath. Who was he? He was too young and too
well-dressed to be one of the men her mother had dragged home years ago. “Do
you really think the cupcake is good?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I do.” He finished the last bite and crumpled the paper. With a flick of
his wrist he tossed the small wad into the trash bin across the room. “You’ve
achieved a miracle. Edible fruitcake.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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His smooth words spread over her skin like a swatch of velvet. Whoever he
was he talked about the treat like a man who knew food. Was he a rival? Had he
come to steal her recipes? He certainly hadn’t appeared to ask for a job. Not
when he wore what looked like custom-made clothes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What will you call this one?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Grace stepped back. The cold marble of the worktable edge pressed against
her back. “Fruitcake.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Not like any I’ve ever tasted.” He grinned. “I hate holiday parties
where the hostess pushed dark dense stuff she’d ordered by mail or baked.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Grace laughed. “I’ve eaten some of that kind. This was my sixteenth try
to make an edible one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He stepped closer. “Persistence pays. You’ve created a light cake with
the traditional flavors and the right amount of fruit. The touch of rum in the
frosting is perfect.” He raked his fingers messing his perfectly stylish dark
hair. “Is it legal?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Just a flavor essence.” <i>Definitely
the competition.</i> Warmth shone in his deep brown eyes. When he stepped in
her direction she grasped the pastry bag. “Who are you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t you remember me? I’ve never forgotten you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The dimple in his left cheek made her want to touch. Seduction filled his
voice. A whiff of evergreen beneath the aroma of the bakers reached her. He
oozed the kind of danger she had to time to allow in her life. The suggestive
gleam in his eyes raised a need to run. Only, she was trapped.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He placed his hand on her arm. Though the touch was light she felt as
though his fingers branded her. “Think back, Grace.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’ve never seen you before.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Sure you have.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Really?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I sure remember you. Years a go I made a play and you turned me down.
When I said you would be sorry, you said I would be the one to regret.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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With warp speed her thoughts flew to the fence between the group homes. <i>Was he really?</i> He looked so different
from the boy she’d known. The features of the face in her thoughts matured and
became the man crowding her space.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Jules Grayson, what are you doing here?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Representing Good Eatin’. Since you refused to sign the contract for a
future feature article I thought the personal touch might work. I didn’t
realize who you were until you turned.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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A smile broke her somber mood. “Most of my communication was with Allie
Blakefield.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You and I spoke twice but the moment I mentioned the magazine you hung up.
Just listen to my spiel. I’m sure I’ll do a better job of making the case than
I did years ago.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Though knowing he didn’t plat to steal her recipes her instincts remained
on high alert. Her thoughts raced from what had been to what ifs. <i>Not a good place to be.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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“I sent the proposal back unsigned. The feature doesn’t fit with my plans
for growing the business. A year from now or maybe two I might take a chance.
I’ve seen too many in this field move to fast and fail.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Where You Can Find Janet:</div>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/JanetL717" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1481389752290_3278" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">https://twitter.com/JanetL717</a></div>
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<a href="http://bookswelove.net/" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">http://bookswelove.net/</a><br />
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Buy addy for Seducing The Baker</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/f.html?C=2KVQPKQSS2V7N&R=1869FPITP9XXF&T=C&U=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2Fgp%2Fredirect.html%3Fie%3DUTF8%26location%3Dhttps%253A%252F%252Fread.amazon.com%252Fkp%252Fembed%253Fasin%253DB01GUBO1BG%2526linkCode%253Dkpe%2526preview%253Dnewtab%2526ref_%253Dcm_sw_em_r_dp_u_p_8P-.xb0Y4MF5R%26ref_%3Dpe_830720_189369210&A=02E02VZRIANQASRBW0XKKGEFRJKA&H=OELMANOVV1S5UMQTRVNWFGIC7YOA&ref_=pe_830720_189369210" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; cursor: pointer; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Seducing the Baker (At First Sight)</span></a><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1481389752290_3273" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-86931849108303763542016-12-03T22:43:00.000-05:002016-12-03T22:43:06.295-05:00Meet the Author's of Baby It's Cold in Space!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hi All,</span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My guests this
week are all part of a new anthology. One I’m sure you’re going to enjoy. I
have asked each author to let us know which story is theirs in </span></i><b><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Baby it’s Cold in
Space</span></i></b><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> and asked them to
answer the following questions.</span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1.) </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">How did you come up with the story in this anthology?</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2.) </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do you normally write SF? If not what is your normal genre? </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And I asked one to
answer this one. </span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">3.) </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">How did you come up with the idea for the anthology? (only 1
person needs to answer this question)</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;">First up is </span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;">Donna:</span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;">Donna S. Frelick, </span><b>Saturday Night in Devils Holler</b><b><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1.) </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are several threads woven into this story: First, the
premise of my </span><i>Interstellar Rescue</i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> universe which is that aliens are stealing
humans for slaves and an intergalactic abolition organization exists to rescue
and return those who have been Taken. Second, my own family connection to the
mountains of West Virginia. And, third, of course, the idea of romance, which
is strong in all my stories.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2.) </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yes, I’m a science fiction romance gal all the way! I started
out writing STAR TREK fan fiction to give Jim Kirk an outlet for all his
romantic inclinations!</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span lang="PT" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Next is Rosalie:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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Rosalie Redd, <b>Angelo 13<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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1.) When I saw the title of the
anthology, <b>Baby, It’s Cold in Space</b>
an image of a capsule floating through space with a lone survivor popped into
my mind. The story morphed to become one
about discovering emotions, love in particular. Of course, the dashing hero
needed to meet up with a strong heroine that shows him the true meaning of
love.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2.) My stories tend to be a blend
of fantasy, science fiction, and paranormal romance. <b>Angelo 13</b> is my first foray into the traditional science fiction
romance genre and it was so much fun to write! More stories are churning, eager
to get on the page.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Now meet Selene:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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Selene Grace Silver, <b>Light
Up the Dark<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
1.) The vision of a young woman,
trapped, naked, completely vulnerable--except for her wits and intelligence--in
a dark space cell, just appeared in my mind. I wanted to know who she was and
how she’d ended up in such a dangerous situation. I had been fiddling with the
story for over a year and thought this joint project might be the venue for it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
2.) I have been writing SFR for
several years, but this will be my first published story in this genre. I have
several other stories from this same universe and the first full length novel
is coming out at the start of 2017. I also write contemporary romance and
paranormal romance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
3.) Actually, the anthology was
proposed by another writer on the RWA’s Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal
forums. She left the project early on, but eight of us hung with it and
followed through on the idea. We loved the title. It’s been a great experience
to work with each other and we’ve even created a website in hope of pursuing
another joint project. Check us out at <a href="http://sfrshootingstars.com/">sfrshootingstars.com</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="BodyA" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><span lang="FR" style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And Blaire Edens:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
Blaire Edens, <b>The Climate of Love<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
1.) My husband and son are amateur
astronomers. When I heard them discussing a planet, similar to Earth, that
*could* be reachable in few decades or a century, I began to wonder what we
could learn from the beings that might live on that planet. Around the same time,
I binged Ancient Aliens and somehow the two ideas merged in my head and I
wondered if it was possible that nearby planets were populated by our ancient
ancestors. I added the element of climate change because, as a woman with
degrees in environmental sciences, it’s a real concern for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
2.) I’ve been writing paranormal
romance and contemporary romance for several publishers for several years. This
is my first true Sci-Fi romance but most of my books have a strong science
element because I’m a Smithsonian and Nat Geo JUNKIE!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="BodyA" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="BodyA" style="text-indent: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Plus Jayne Fury:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
Jayne Fury, <b>Still Life</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
1.) When we decided on the name, <b>Baby, It’s Cold In Space</b>, my first
thought was to explore my own feelings about the winter holiday season such as
light in the darkness, hope, and new birth. From there, the story about a
terraforming astrobiologist’s project as the target for a celestial terrorist
began to flow. Add in one inquisitive robot and bam! This was a perfect fit for
my Solar Flame series about “bodice ripping ninjas in space” romance + pulp.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
2.) I’m new to the author game and
SciFiRom is my current jam. I began writing SciFi fanfic in the Star Trek
community and just recently broadened my horizons to create my own universe.
I’m staying with SFR because the authors I’ve met have been supportive and truly
inspirational. It’s a growing genre and I love it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="BodyA">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<i>My last Guest is Diana Rivis:<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
Diana
Rivis, <b>Star Gazers</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
1.)
I was being a television couch potato one day a while back and happened upon a
documentary about parallel universes and the possibility that they exist. It was the first time I’d ever seen the
concept analyzed from a scientific point of view by legitimate scientists. It was also the first time I’d ever heard the
term, multiverse. I was completely gob
smacked! I started to think about the
possibilities of jumping from one universe to the next. What would we find? Would there be planets like ours? If so, would they be populated by beings like
us? A story and characters started to
form in my mind and I just HAD to write it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 4.5pt; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 4.5pt;">
2.)
I’ve always loved science fiction, so that’s what I write the most often. In fact, <b>Star
Gazers</b> is the first of what will eventually be a three-book series. I also write some paranormal and have a
series of baby dragon short stories. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-12042634469063528882016-11-19T12:06:00.000-05:002016-11-19T12:09:35.951-05:00Welcome N.N.LIght Back! @NNP_W_Light<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I want to welcome N.
N. Light. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
N. N. Light is the best-selling husband-wife writing team,
commonly known as Mr. N and Mrs. N. Mrs. N. has been creating stories ever
since she was little. Her grandfather remembers when she was two years old, she
would stand at the top of the stairs and tell him a story filled with emotion
(and in a language foreign to him) with her hands on her hips. Let’s just say
she was a born storyteller.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They’re blissfully happy and love all things chocolate,
books, music, movies, art, sports, trains, history, cooking and baking. Their
mantra is to spread the Light.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of the time you can find them on Twitter or getting new
ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest. They’re a proud member of ASMSG
and Independent Author Network.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In addition to being authors, they’re also book
promoters/reviewers, social media marketers/influencers and the owners of N. N.
Light Author Promotions. They both love books, have ever since they were young.
Matching up books and readers is something that gives them great pleasure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tell us about your
latest release</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Poetry of Love: The
Engagement Year</b> is the real-life romance of Mr. N and Mrs. N. It’s an
Amazon Best-Seller and Hot New Release.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had been searching for love my whole life. It took the
opening up of the world via technology for me to find my soulmate. Once I laid
eyes on her, at the arrivals gate, I knew I was never going to let her go. The
following is a collection of poems I wrote to my angel, from our first meeting
up until our wedding day. I was working crazy hours as a chef and I had a long
commute. I chose my commuting time to pen her a poem each day. These poems
speak of our life, our challenges and our growth together...in every aspect
they speak of our love. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
May this book give someone the courage to let their special
someone know how much they care for them and how much they mean to them. Saying
I love you is a gift you can give many times a day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiur8qE3IbCswohW4AwS6m3WM__Bz3G5jKQ6gLgJX_S2HzWjXcEajMnbB4HhA2QAh19KZXVZXKTqMHdI_D2gzAOGFkDlIEIqRwIkwwuaSUPnGwIg8eLmSpZ5B3-MOT3nXcz5LqqcKbz21DT/s1600/Poetry+of+Love-The+EngagementYear+JPG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiur8qE3IbCswohW4AwS6m3WM__Bz3G5jKQ6gLgJX_S2HzWjXcEajMnbB4HhA2QAh19KZXVZXKTqMHdI_D2gzAOGFkDlIEIqRwIkwwuaSUPnGwIg8eLmSpZ5B3-MOT3nXcz5LqqcKbz21DT/s320/Poetry+of+Love-The+EngagementYear+JPG.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>1.) Who is your
favorite author? Do you feel you write like them?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – My favorite fiction author is J. N. Williamson. He
has the ability to create vivid characters, unveil only what he wants the
reader to know and just when you least expect it, he scares the crap out of
you. Brilliant. I’ve never attempted writing horror but I do enjoy surprising
the reader when they least expect it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – My favorite romance author is Jude Deveraux. I’ve read
everything she’s written and I admire the way she portrays history so clearly,
it’s like I’m right there. She’s so
talented at building romantic tension and I keep striving to be better. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>2.) What was your
favorite book growing up?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – I’ll let my beloved take this one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – The Chronicles of Narnia, Winnie the Pooh, anything
by Roald Dahl, Dr. Seuss. I was a voracious reader growing up and I loved books
that took me on a great adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>3.) Are you a plotter
or a pantser and why did you choose that method?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – I’m a plotter. I have outlines and know where my
book is headed from the start. Just ask anyone and they’ll tell you I’m
organized. When I first met my beloved, I was a strait-laced by-the-book kind
of person. She taught me to embrace my own creative side. I’m still organized
(favorite activity is organizing our library of books, music and movies) but
I’m more laid back than I used to be. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N - *laughs* It’s true, when I met Mr. N, he was
super-organized and I was… ummm… not. He says I’m artistic which is his way of
saying I was disorganized. But he taught me the benefits of being organized and
now I am what you’d call a hybrid: organized pantser. I do write from start to
finish but I have a loose outline of plot, characters and conflict. I like this
writing method best because it allows me to be free to explore characters and
situations while staying on-course with the overall plot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>4.) Do you consider
writing a career or a hobby? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – My second career. I’m a coin numismatist by day and
an author/ book reviewer/ book promoter the rest of the time. I’m an insatiable
reader and it’s only through writing <b>Princess
of the Light</b> with my wife did I discover my love of writing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – I’ve had this gift for words and writing since I
was a little girl. I knew in my heart I was destined to be a writer and to
inspire others. I consider writing a career and I work really hard at it. While
life tries to distract me, my muse never strays too far from me. My characters
are always in my head, begging to be released. I tell them there’s only
twenty-four hours in the day and I do need to sleep. Lol!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>5.) What are you
working on now? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – I am working on an alternative history book as well
as the follow-up to <b>Poetry of Love: The
Engagement Year</b> and working with Mrs. N on the sequel to <b>Princess of the Light</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – Let’s see, I’m working with Mr. N on the sequel to <b>Princess of the Light</b> as well as
working on a cozy mystery. I also have a sequel to <b>Planting the Seeds of Love: A Novella</b> stewing in my mind. I still
have to flush that one out before I start writing it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>6.) What one piece of
advice would you like to pass on to an up and coming author?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – Forget the traditional publishing route as the
be-all-and-end-all. Write and publish your way. The tools are out there for you
to publish a professional book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – Don’t let anyone talk you out of your goal to be a
published author. You have a gift and your stories deserve recognition. The
numbers are daunting but you can do it! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>7.) If you had the
ability to time travel and your first visit was to see a younger version of
yourself what would you say to that younger self?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – Be strong. Real love will come when you least expect
it to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – Ignore the bullies and love yourself. You are
beautiful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>8.) You just got a
million dollars, whether it’s from an inheritance, the lottery, or a sweet book
deal doesn’t matter. What would be the first thing you would buy for yourself?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – Everything on our Amazon Wish List.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – A week’s vacation with Mr. N at our getaway spot up
north. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>9.) If you could
un-invent one thing in the world what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mr. N – Cars. I hate cars and the world we know it would be
much safer without cars. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs. N – Smartphones. I know it’s unpopular for me to say
this but I see too many people disconnecting from the world. They have their
smartphones attached to their body and they’re missing out on the world.
There’s a disconnect, a lack of compassion in the world, and our society is
forever changed because of it. People can hide behind a screen spewing hate,
evil and bully someone without consequences. It’s sad and I wish we could go
back in time to when there weren’t any smartphones.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>10.) What is your
favorite movie/TV Show? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our favorite TV show right now is <b>Death in Paradise</b> on BBC/PBS. It’s a quirky mystery show about a
British inspector moving to an island and heading up the local police station.
It’s a delight and a highlight of our week. We never miss an episode and we’re
big fans of the cast. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Title:</span></b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> Poetry of Love: The Engagement
Year<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Author:</span></b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> N. N. Light<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Genre:</span></b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> Poetry, Love Poetry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Excerpt: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc461696897"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc461696783"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc461616656"><b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As
My Beauty Sleeps</span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">I love
to lay and listen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As my
beauty sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">The
sound of each breath<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As my
beauty sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">I think
how I will awaken her<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As my
beauty sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">To kiss
her softly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">That is
my plan<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As my
beauty sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">My lips
move close<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">But I
just enjoy listening<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">As my
beauty sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjutOOhDp9jAhUoast3YWJB46GCmUqPOTZso2VYLhcb4CseMDfhY7pqPPNPjuuTPuWq2_j7qvakd_UGaZXtExI3iOutoVwElsf0H8XMF1XHyvlQJXu98QCLrKWeRu90yZRvYxn6ckhuYGd/s1600/N+N+Light+Author+Pic+social+media.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjutOOhDp9jAhUoast3YWJB46GCmUqPOTZso2VYLhcb4CseMDfhY7pqPPNPjuuTPuWq2_j7qvakd_UGaZXtExI3iOutoVwElsf0H8XMF1XHyvlQJXu98QCLrKWeRu90yZRvYxn6ckhuYGd/s320/N+N+Light+Author+Pic+social+media.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Buy Links:</span></b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Available
at Amazon Worldwide or FREE on Kindle Unlimited:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">https://www.amazon.com/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Barnes
and Noble Paperback: </span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/poetry-of-love-n-n-light/1124641362?ean=9781537641706"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/poetry-of-love-n-n-light/1124641362?ean=9781537641706</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Goodreads:
</span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32054659-poetry-of-love"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32054659-poetry-of-love</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Author Biography:</span></b><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> N. N. Light is the best-selling
husband-wife writing team, commonly known as Mr. N and Mrs. N. Mrs. N. has been
creating stories ever since she was little. Her grandfather remembers when she
was two years old, she would stand at the top of the stairs and tell him a
story filled with emotion (and in a language foreign to him) with her hands on
her hips. Let’s just say she was a born storyteller.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">They’re
blissfully happy and love all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art,
sports, trains, history, cooking and baking. Their mantra is to spread the
Light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Most of
the time you can find them on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the
Light on Pinterest. They’re a proud member of ASMSG and Independent Author
Network.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">In
addition to being authors, they’re also book promoters/reviewers, social media
marketers/influencers and the owners of N. N. Light Author Promotions. They
both love books, have ever since they were young. Matching up books and readers
is something that gives them great pleasure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">They’d
love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media
sites:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Website:
</span><a href="http://princessofthelight.com/"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://princessofthelight.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Blog: </span><a href="http://princessofthelight.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://princessofthelight.wordpress.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Goodreads:
</span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/nnlight"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.goodreads.com/nnlight</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Twitter:
</span><a href="http://www.twitter.com/NNP_W_Light"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.twitter.com/NNP_W_Light</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Bookbub:
</span><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-n-light"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-n-light</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Pinterest:
</span><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nnlight"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.pinterest.com/nnlight</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">LinkedIn:
</span><a href="http://www.linkedin.com/pub/n-n-light/90/1a7/902"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.linkedin.com/pub/n-n-light/90/1a7/902</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Google+:
</span><a href="https://plus.google.com/u/0/118060034268079734144/posts"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">https://plus.google.com/u/0/118060034268079734144/posts</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Amazon
Author Page: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/author/nnlight"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">https://www.amazon.com/author/nnlight</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">Independent
Author Network: </span><a href="http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/n-n-light.html"><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;">http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/n-n-light.html</span></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-59339310635909663442016-11-12T10:22:00.000-05:002016-11-12T13:44:36.161-05:00Please Welcome Trevan Rogers!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I want to welcome Trevann
Rogers. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve recently released an urban fantasy novella titled <b>After Midnight</b>. It’s the prequel to my
first novel, <b>House of the Rising Son</b>,
and it clears up a few unanswered questions. Here’s the blurb:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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After Midnight<o:p></o:p></div>
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Prequel to House of the Rising Son<o:p></o:p></div>
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Living After Midnight Series<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Author:
Trevann Rogers<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Genre:
Urban Fantasy Romance<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Improbable
love. Impossible life. Immeasurable danger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jewell’s
stepfather thinks she’s worthless. She agrees. When she looks in the mirror she
sees an overweight, overemotional, overeating mess who can’t keep her fangs to
herself. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ria
hails from a family of old world vamps who'd be happy to share their wealth
with her, if only she’d fall in line. Fat chance, especially since being in
that line includes not being gay. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being
in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—the young vampires belong together like
vodka and tomato juice. Adding Cheyenne, a talented and sexy incubus, to their
union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only problem? Vampires and
incubi are mortal enemies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite
the odds Ria, Jewell and Cheyenne find their way to happiness. But Jewell is
hiding a huge secret, one that defies the laws of procreation: She’s going to
have a baby. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While
she tries to figure out how to break the unbelievable news to her lovers, a
horror from Jewell’s past slithers into her present, forcing choices no one
should have to make. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Will
it be love or death? Happiness or safety? She has until dawn to decide...and
it's already After Midnight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>1. Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tough first question! It would have to be Zillah, from Poppy
Z. Brite’s Lost Souls, for all the wrong reasons. He’s completely amoral,
totally gorgeous…and true to who he is from start to finish. And what a finish
it was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>2.) Who is your
favorite character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cheyenne, the incubus rock star, is hands down my favorite
character. He first appears in <b>House of
the Rising Son</b>. There are so many reasons I love him. First—incubus AND
rocker? They don’t come sexier than that. More importantly, however, is his
love for his children. He loves them so deeply, enjoys their quirkiness, and he
would die for them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>3.) What do genre do
you write? What made you pick that one?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Urban Fantasy and paranormal romance. I write what I like to
read. I’ve loved the genre since reading Interview with a Vampire. Man oh man,
was that a sexy book. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few things. My writing group is putting out a holiday
anthology in late November, so there is some pressure to get a winter-ish short
story done. I’m also working on Cheyenne’s continued trials, tribulations and
romantic journey in the sequel to <b>House
of the Rising Son</b>, and a YA urban fantasy set in the same world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>5.) What got you to
start writing?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Believe it or not, I belong to a circle of penpals who have
been writing for two decades. We started sharing stories we made up, even
circulated an underground newsletter. I started to fall in love with the worlds
that were swirling around in my head. Seemed a natural progression to write a
book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Music, mostly. Lyrics and songs set a mood and spark
feelings. Mood and feelings start stories. For me, anyway. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They’d be shocked to find that in addition to book
boyfriends, I have a couple of WWE boyfriends, too. Randy Orton…Roman
Reigns…You probably shouldn’t get me started. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I seem to make traffic lights turn red. All the time, but
especially when I’m in a hurry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Write what you love.” There is occasionally pressure to
write to the market, or to the latest “thing”, or to one editor or another’s
wish list. But I know that wouldn’t be my best work, and it wouldn’t be fun for
me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what
would you talk about?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would talk to Damon, from Vampire Diaries. I beg him to
never forget his true nature, as he is far, far sexier when he is his evil,
serial killer self. The touchy-feely Damon doesn’t become him. Oh, and a few
minutes to bask in the beauty that is him wouldn’t hurt either. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I might like to talk to Dean Winchester too, but
that would be risky—for him, as I am likely to throw myself at his feet, naked,
and not let go. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Voices”, Randy Orton’s theme song. “I hear voices in my
head, they council me, they understand. They talk to me.” Fitting for a writer,
no? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Easy. A cat. They’re pampered and nothing is expected of
them. Not even walking on a leash. I remember seeing this cat video on Facebook
where the cat is looking at her owner while slowly pushing a glass vase off of
the table. Yup. That’s me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-O1wbHQA1FiTbiQJzU867hfD1lK0qciG7soTfV0XfIj-sUFbY4hYzA6YmjhA0Ew4qdhvsBJfItSlxzaQsTtArR_h8WSsI4X13POPouHFKVmVhoqlsezTbaUiu7FpKHvREs77tglhm5ng/s1600/After+midnight+front+cover.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-O1wbHQA1FiTbiQJzU867hfD1lK0qciG7soTfV0XfIj-sUFbY4hYzA6YmjhA0Ew4qdhvsBJfItSlxzaQsTtArR_h8WSsI4X13POPouHFKVmVhoqlsezTbaUiu7FpKHvREs77tglhm5ng/s320/After+midnight+front+cover.jpeg" width="217" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>EXCERPT:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to
clean and going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated
decision. He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend
and had a voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And hell if
she didn’t love him. Damn incubus. <span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side.
Jewell’s eyes opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert
to danger. It always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember
where she was and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it
seemed to take even longer.<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell
feel safe enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll.
It’s just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.”<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as
if trying to focus them. <span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s
belly. “Didn’t we just go to bed?”<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his
spine. “Hours ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?” <span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Not hardly, dead girl.” <span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to
face her. “That’s <i>undead</i> girl, thank
you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag between her teeth. “Show us what
you’ve got left.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>BUY LINKS:</b><b><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You
can find AFTER MIDNIGHT at <a href="http://amzn.to/2dEOt59">http://amzn.to/2dEOt59</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
HOUSE
OF THE RISING SON, Book 1 in the series, is available at <a href="http://amzn.to/2bmiPx8">http://amzn.to/2bmiPx8</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-32762636959463523522016-10-15T12:06:00.000-04:002016-10-15T12:26:18.093-04:00Welcome Dorothy Bell Back! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Dorothy A. Bell,
author of Oregon historical novels: The Reprobate, The Cost of Revenge, Dance
Hall Road and contemporary romance, Reinventing Mica Avery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I was born in Iowa
and moved to Oregon with my mother, father and older sister when I was ten. So
I think it’s safe to say I’ve been and Oregonian most of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I’ve known for a
very long time that I am a writer. When a work is published, then and only then
do I declare myself an author—it’s a process I go through each time. It keeps
me humble and grateful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="yiv6158669053msonormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I believe every
writer has their own distinct writing style and methodology. I couldn’t say
what mine is. I write to entertain myself first, so I have to have humor. I’m a
people watcher, so my stories are character driven. And romance, got’ta have
some steamy romance in there somewhere or the story doesn’t interest me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In all of my
stories, I portray my leading ladies as strong, independent, intelligent women
who command admiration and respect. The heroes of course, have problems with
strong, independent, intelligent women, that’s where the humor comes in to
play. As a writer, it’s fun to manipulate through dialog and inner action the
transformation of a man’s opinion to bring about his acceptance and inspire
attraction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I have a
favorite parable I’d like to share:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Once upon a time there was a woman who’d won over
a hundred cooking contests in one year and received multiple blue ribbons and
trophies. When asked how she’d done it, she answered simply, “I entered.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">That’s it,
right there, if you love to write, submit your work. Refine it, learn all you
can about plot development, the difference between character driven and plot
driven stories, point of view, passive voice, showing instead of telling, the
mechanics of course. And for God’s sake be human in whatever you write. Even
monsters have feelings. Reveal the truth in your characters. Expose their soul,
their underbellies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I have many,
many more books in me. They’re coming as fast as my editor and my publisher can
get them out there. Next one up will be an Oregon historical titled, <i>The Widow’s Ferry</i>. A story of three men:
one an abuser, one a user, and a married man with a secret past. They all want
one woman—a strong survivor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">You’ll find
old family photos, poems and all my buy links on my blog, plus a link to a free
full length Oregon historical novel and several free short stories that I’ve
put up on Amazon cloud for easy access.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">You can find
all of my books on Good Reads, Kobo and Amazon. They are Kindle and Nook,
e-book friendly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Fallow her on
her blog: </span><a href="http://dabellm3.com/"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://dabellm3.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Amazon author page: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dorothy-A.-Bell/e/B00DH23GNQ/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">https://www.amazon.com/Dorothy-A.-Bell/e/B00DH23GNQ/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Publisher - Freya’s Bower: </span><a href="http://freyasbower.com/"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://freyasbower.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Oregon
historical, a Laura Creek romance, <i>The
Reprobate</i>, Amazon link: </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Reprobate-Laura-Creek-Novel-Book-ebook/dp/B00C6Q8AC6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1406144437&sr"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://www.amazon.com/Reprobate-Laura-Creek-Novel-Book-ebook/dp/B00C6Q8AC6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1406144437&sr</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Oregon
historical, a Laura Creek romance, <i>The
Cost of Revenge</i>, Amazon link: </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cost-Revenge-Laura-Creek-Novel-ebook/dp/B00FEMQ9DQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1406144692&sr=8-1&"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">http://www.amazon.com/Cost-Revenge-Laura-Creek-Novel-ebook/dp/B00FEMQ9DQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1406144692&sr=8-1&</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Oregon
historical, <i>Dance Hall Road</i>, Amazon
link: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dance-Hall-Laura-Creek-Novel-ebook/dp/B00QPOSIL8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1473733779&sr=1-1&keywords=dance+hall+road+by+dorothy+a+bell"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">https://www.amazon.com/Dance-Hall-Laura-Creek-Novel-ebook/dp/B00QPOSIL8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1473733779&sr=1-1&keywords=dance+hall+road+by+dorothy+a+bell</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Contemporary
romance<i>, Reinventing Mica Avery</i>: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Reinventing-Mica-Avery-Dorothy-Bell-ebook/dp/B01AW1XB02/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1473733881&sr=1-1&keywords=reinventing+Mica+Avery+by+dorothy+a+bell"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">https://www.amazon.com/Reinventing-Mica-Avery-Dorothy-Bell-ebook/dp/B01AW1XB02/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1473733881&sr=1-1&keywords=reinventing+Mica+Avery+by+dorothy+a+bell</span></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-28495268554689192362016-10-12T19:49:00.001-04:002016-10-12T19:49:35.966-04:00100,000 hits! @barbbradley<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm doing the happy dance! I hit a mile marker and I couldn't do it without you guys! I hit 100,000 hits on my blog! I wanted to do something special for this and have racked my brain.<br />
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I've had this idea in my head and have thought about writing it out so here is a free read as my thank you...Note I've been working on this for a few weeks and realize that I'll never load it if I try to write the whole thing at once so I'm going to load it in snippets and create a page for the completed story.<br />
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I opened my eyes and found myself in a white room. What the hell happened? Was I in a car accident? Pushing myself into a seated position I looked around. Never saw a doctor's office or hospital like this before.<br />
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Just as I sat up a man walked in. Damn he was cute. Chiseled features, beautiful brown hair and I could see he was well built under the white outfit he wore. He had romance hero written all over him. I wasn't sure of his age but I'd guess early thirties. He smiled and I had to smile back. He had one of those smiles I wrote about. The one that would melt any heroine's heart.<br />
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"How are you doing?" He came over to the bed and pressed his fingers against a glass wall behind me.<br />
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"Um, fine, but can you tell me where I am?" I watched as data popped up on the glass. It was a computer. Hmm. Something I should work into my futuristic books.<br />
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"Sure, you're in my medlab." He stepped back, but kept an eye on whatever was streaming on the screen behind me.<br />
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Medlab? I use that word in my futuristics. Especially the series I've been working on. Am I dreaming a very lucid dream? It felt too feel to be a dream. I could see people moving out in a corridor beyond the glass wall sealing us in. There were other patients in the room with me. Dreams normally don't go into that much detail. Did they? Mine didn't. At least I didn't think so. But what else could it be?<br />
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I looked at my doctor and noticed his eyes for the first time. How I missed them before this I didn't know. I saw gold eyes with a violet ring. It couldn't be... "Dr..."<br />
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"Just call me Kuarto."<br />
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Hopefully more next week...</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-63130537761740623082016-10-08T12:01:00.000-04:002016-10-08T12:01:40.518-04:00Rije's Sacrifice Part 2 @Xaion64<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well my son the writer has written another section of his story. I think he has something unique here. Please enjoy!<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Let Me Tell You a Story...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the far future, a great cataclysm occurs, th</span><span 16px="" 400="" baseline="" font-size:="" font-style:="" font-variant:="" font-weight:="" new="" none="" normal="" pre-wrap="" quot="" roman="" text-decoration:="" times="" vertical-align:="" white-space:="">at sunders the w</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">orld anew. This is one of many stories in the world after, where hundreds of legends appear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A man walks in the darkened world. A card floats around him. He wears a black trench coat, and a black pair of eye shields that comes to a point on his cheeks. He is pondering his current situation. And everything that has come before now. He looks at the sky with its sun slowly disappearing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How is that new world of yours I wonder...” he sighs. He walks across the disappearing world, wondering what happened here, what was it like before. “Seems I found a planet without the hatred present … how quaint.” He scratches his head. “How many evils will I destroy before the end of this?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He continues walking and shadows form together in front of him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Rije… There you are!” the shadow says in a raspy voice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Looks like I spoke too soon, Which dark being from the past are you? ” Rije’s spear appears in his hand. “I’ll end you here, if you like, or shall you run from your apocalypse?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A man in black </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">samurai styled armor with sharp jagged talon points</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> all over walks out of the shadows. “I am the Demon King of Xaionia! Don’t tell me you forgotten about me Rije … or should I call you R-”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rije cuts him off. “Don’t. That identity died long ago … it’s time for your end.”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Demon King studies him. “Heh, oh? I remember that time. You were just a reflection of her … you hated her so much, you wanted to destroy her. You even helped me to that end!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rije looks annoyed. “My Past… DIES Here!” His eyes fill with anger and rage. “All of your hatred… You killed thousands upon millions on a mere WHIM! And...” The rage turns to sadness. “And I am no better… ” Darkness swells around him, as if resonating from his own feelings. “I...” His eyes glow purple. “I won’t be forgiven, nor do I want anyone's forgiveness … but the only forgiveness you will get is DEATH!” He lifts his black spear and points it at the demon king.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Demon King looks at the spear and smiles. “Oooh? Think yourself all high and mighty. You’re like us Rije. A monster, an evil being bent on the destruction of the world! Join us! Lead us through the door so we can take control of the new world!”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A spark of black and purple shines through the Demon king, and Rije appears behind him “Sorry Demon King… OUR Evil… Dies here!” Rije flicks his wrist and purple lighting and shadow </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">tentacles explode</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">out of the demon king.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Demon king “GHAHHH!!! Wha- What?” He staggers from the single attack he could not </span><span style="bfont-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">follow</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You shouldn’t be this powerful! You are merely a reflection of her! How? HOW?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rije smiles, </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">his eyes darken to pitch black</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. “When she gave up her forced form I absorbed it all, then my former master gave me all of his power… I AM THE VOID! ” Rije turns around and points his spear at the demon king “DIE!” Hundreds of black spears materialize in the air and slam into the demon king. Rije jumps up and </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">unisons</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> i</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">nto his reverse tiger form and slams his spear into the Demon King. “WE Die NOW!” The white stripes across Rijes armor glow a dark purple. “REVERSE.” </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Demon king shakes his head. “NO! If we die here! We die for good! There is no Escape!”</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rijes eyes fill with anger and rage. “Maybe you do… but my curse will keep me alive until the end. NOW DIE! REVERSE APOCALYPSE!” Rije explodes in a huge blast of black light and chaotic black lightning. Destroying the planet and Rije appears in the chair he sat before yet again. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rije nods his head. “One down… six to go… why was </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">one of the Pillars su</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ch a weakling… holding that section together?” A table with a map titled “Void” lies there in front of Rije and his chair. He walks over to it as a large section of the map begins to disappear. “Your first villain… it must have been that...” he sighs. “I will end this… this place won’t exist anymore… the world doesn’t need it.” He clutches his fist and shakes his head. Suddenly, a sharp pain hits him “GHAAA!!! ”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He falls out of his chair in pain and clutches his chest. “AH HAAA…. HA…. Damn I didn’t think it would hurt this much!” He slowly stands back up and notices he’s becoming incorporeal for a second then returns to normal. “I feel like something is missing...” He holds up his hand and attempts to use the purple lightning he had used in his assault against the demon king, but nothing happens.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.542857142857143; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rije stares at his hand. “With every villain I annihilate will I lose a part of myself? I lost the power of darkness… so what else will I lose? And what do I still have?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He limps over to the edge of the floating island his chair and table lies on. A portal opens and he walks through.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">John W. Bradley III</span></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-35418868648539232652016-10-01T11:48:00.001-04:002016-10-01T11:51:30.214-04:00Latest Guest - Mathias G.B. Colwell!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>I want to welcome Mathias
G.B. Colwell! First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’m California raised. Well traveled. I love pizza and fish
tacos. I enjoy outdoor activities like snowboarding or playing soccer or
basketball, but I’m just as likely to stay inside and read a book or watch TV.
Currently I work in higher education. I love the work of many authors, but
Robert Jordan, Patrick Rothfuss, David Eddings, Jim Butcher, Brandon Sanderson,
and JK Rowling are among my favorites.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Among my latest releases is a book called <b>Dusk Runner, Book 1 of The Dark Arrow
Trilogy</b>. It’s sort of a classic adventure tale, a high fantasy sword and
sorcery type book where the primary race of beings are elves. It has action,
romance, magic, and it moves along at a fairly quick pace making it an easy and
enjoyable read. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>1.) Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Does Gollum, from <b>The
Lord of the Rings</b> count? On second thought, I’m not sure that he does. If
we decide that Gollum doesn’t count as a true villain, then I think I would
actually have to go with a group of villains. I really enjoy the Forsaken from <b>The Wheel of Tim</b>e, by Robert Jordan.
Collectively, they represent just about every conceivable reason for a person
to become a villain, along with many personal motivations, their own inner set
of intrigue and power squabbles, and some truly evil intentions. Villains
really don’t get much better than the Forsaken, although I admit, I am partial
to WOT so maybe my opinions are a bit biased.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>2.) Who is your
favorite character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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That is a tough question. I guess I’m going to have to go
with Beathan, a character from one of my series called The Collector Series.
Beathan is a half-human, half-fairy with a penchant for theft and mischief. He’s
my favorite for a number of reasons. Firstly, I think he’s exciting and a bit
unpredictable. Secondly, he enjoys creating a bit of chaos and I’ve always
enjoyed characters who add to the general madness of a story just a little bit.
And lastly, he is just really fun to write, probably more fun to write than
just about any of my other characters, which has made me rather fond of him. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>3.) What do genre do
you write? What made you pick that one?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I like to think that I write primarily fantasy, although
some of my work might more aptly be classified in a slightly different section
of speculative fiction. It’s pretty simple, I try to write stories that I would
want to read and I happen to love a good fantasy series. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I am currently finishing up Entrance to <b>Dark Harbor, Book 2 of The Dark Arrow Trilogy</b>. I’m also outlining
and preparing to start writing Book 3 of that same trilogy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>5.) What got you to
start writing?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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This may sound slightly self-centered, but I remember a long
time ago thinking that I wanted to somehow be remembered after I was gone. What
better way to be remembered, than by being immortalized through the pages of a
wonderfully written story? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Anywhere, really. From reading or watching TV. From a dream.
From the way a shadow plays across the ground. From a particularly evocative
piece of music. I find that my ideas have come from a variety of different
places and I tend to enjoy the fact that inspiration can come from just about
anywhere. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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That one of my happy places is the Dr. Seuss section in a
bookstore. Actually, that might not be surprising at all, since he is moderately
beloved by a wide variety of readers. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I can robot whistle (aka hum and whistle at the same time).
It’s one of those things you sort of have to hear someone do to understand. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I don’t know if anyone specifically said this to me, but a
lesson I learned and took to heart early on, and a lesson I still rely on quite
frequently, is to learn how to deal with rejection and failure. You’ll fail and
get rejected a lot as a writer. And that won’t stop even as you write and
publish more. Developing a thick skin is important if you want to be able to
continue to practice your craft. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what
would you talk about?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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That is also a really tough question, with so many possible
answers. I’m a huge sports fan, in particular a fan of the English football
(soccer) club Manchester United. I grew up watching them play and absolutely
fell in love with them as a teenager with (unrealistic) aspirations of playing professionally.
As such, I would love a sit down chat with the club’s most famous, and recently
retired, manager Sir Alex Ferguson. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I enjoy Mumford and Sons quite a lot, and they have a song
called Hopeless Wanderer. I don’t know if it completely describes every aspect
of my life, but the wanderer part seems to fit pretty well, considering that
I’ve lived on four continents and traveled to over thirty countries. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I’m going to be cliché. Something with flight. I guess an
eagle of some kind. Although lounging in a tree as a leopard runs a close
second. Maybe we should go with a mythical creature instead? Isn’t a griffin
essentially a combination of a large feline and a giant bird? That would
combine my two answers into one. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc269-1KyRbbspoar-s6VxwEbC6W2djnQ55TnMdK8xq5Mde0yHzCMis_aiE9IupIl16cNNAeTVbxLikGlfUAea14-tZZMbrZxPcYCxMWFVWCFpVHh2TfS9cq20dMzm480TLteOgMlZk4B7/s1600/DuskRunner_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc269-1KyRbbspoar-s6VxwEbC6W2djnQ55TnMdK8xq5Mde0yHzCMis_aiE9IupIl16cNNAeTVbxLikGlfUAea14-tZZMbrZxPcYCxMWFVWCFpVHh2TfS9cq20dMzm480TLteOgMlZk4B7/s320/DuskRunner_sm.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt:</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Djumair
Silverfist had been a traitor for nineteen long years and a coward for most of
his life. He was the most dangerous type of coward there was, a bold one. He
reflected idly on his life as he awaited the final orders for his next mission.
Djumair let his thoughts drift even further from the next task and more upon
his own being. He was not someone to question the decisions of the past. They
were gone and could not be remade, so why bother with them? However, he was not
above succumbing, every now and again, to the self-reflective melancholy one
reserved for time spent sifting through memories over a goblet of wine and a
good view. Djumair looked off the edge of the platform, not five feet from
where he sat, at the plains interspersed sparsely with copses of trees beneath
him. Even though he was alone, and had nobody with which to share his thoughts,
he allowed his mind to continue its backward journey. He was a solitary person
after all. In many ways he preferred to be alone and it seemed fitting to reminisce
by himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Permission
granted, he continued to remember. Not for the first time, nor for the last,
his mind pondered the curious tandem of cowardice and courage that was Djumair
Silverfist. He knew exactly what was required of a person to be on the winning
side of conflicts in life, and he did whatever was necessary to ensure that he
never lost. That fact, in and of itself, was his craven fault. Yet it
simultaneously lent credence to his arrogant understanding of his own dangerous
competency when it came to vanquishing a foe. He feared the price of losing so
greatly that he knew he was a coward to the very core of his being. However, he
was bold enough to know which decision or action, in the right circumstances,
would be enough to ensure that he avoided failure, pain, and any other
unpleasant consequences of defeat. Sometimes those decisions were difficult,
but he made them all the same. Therein lay his courage, the ability to make
challenging decisions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">His
mind flashed back to that fateful day nineteen years ago, when he unleashed the
flood of water that burst open Verdantihya’s fabled gates—ripped them open from
within. Bleeding and broken, he had sacrificed everything to avoid death, to
avoid losing. He had joined the winning side, that much was clear. While he now
sat and sipped wine freely on a slaver’s deck, his former kinsmen fought, died,
bled, and were captured. He thought of them as ‘former’ because one couldn’t
really claim to belong to the very people who they had betrayed. This sense of
un-belonging defined Djumair, but it was a fair price for his own freedom,
though not without pain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Djumair
had spent the better portion of the last two decades fighting a war for a king
who he did not love and a Grand Marshal who he did not respect, and it had all
been by his own choice. Many long years ago, when he had first felt the icy
fingers of fear twisting in his belly, he had chosen this path. The first
invasion had been sudden and swift, and the humans had established such a
strong foothold on the continent that he had known his people had no hope of
triumph. He had done the only thing possible, he had defected to what he knew
would be the winning side. It had been a decision motivated by fear, but the
choice in and of itself had not been one that was without the need for courage.
It was a strange internal parallel in which he lived; fearful enough to betray
his people and avoid defeat, and brave enough to make the hard choices in life,
the choices that cut ties to one’s heritage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
broke from his reverie as he watched a servant approach from across the
open-aired room. The wind swirled gently, high up on the eastern most Pillar in
the land. Djumair reclined in a lounging seat with a view. It was a seat
reserved for the slave captains who frequented this last outpost before heading
north to begin a raid, or heading east to deliver the latest batch of captives
to the humans. The wind was a dry breeze billowing up from the southeast. It
carried the scent of smoke from the Camps and the dust from the land further
beyond them as it curled up over the edge of the platform, leaving the ground
far below it, hundreds of feet down. It was still strange to Djumair, even
after his long years in this southern land, that the air could be so dry. This
wind had a strangely familiar smell to it, a scent for which he felt the
inklings of recognition. However, just when it felt he was about to lay hold of
the memory of that particular scent’s origin, it slipped away from his mind’s
grasp. He didn’t like that. Djumair couldn’t shake the odd feeling of
importance for whatever it was he could not remember. It never paid to forget
important information. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
took another swill of the white wine that sat chilled in his goblet, the
contents creating tiny droplets of condensation on the exterior. It was not the
most popular of beverages among his southern compatriots, but it was light and
tangy. It soothed his dry throat and reminded him of the pleasures of this
land, pleasures he was not likely to forget seeing as they were, in large part,
the reason he had chosen this course in life. Wine of this vintage had been
impossible to find in the north even before the invasion, let alone now, with
the northern people of Andalaya scattered to the four winds across their
mountain lands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
servant finally reached the small, stand table to Djumair’s right. He carried a
silver pitcher polished to perfection, full of wine no doubt, should Djumair
require more. It was the joy, and the nuisance, of being important. People to
do his bidding, and at the same time, those same people were the ones who often
interrupted the few quiet moments he had to himself. The swallow of wine tasted
sour as Djumair grimaced slightly at the bothersome servant. The boy should be
able to see that his wine glass was still half full and in no need of
refilling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
servant was young and dark haired like all of his people, and as he drew closer
he must have seen the dangerous glint in Djumair’s eyes. The boy hesitated as
if considering retreat, but then continued once he realized that he had come
too far to leave without offering more wine. Fear shone in the boy’s eyes as he
approached. Djumair knew the fright that his name inspired in others. Just
because he knew he was a coward, didn’t mean that others did. In truth, most
men were cowards at their core, he was just one of the few who admitted it to
themselves. He embraced it and let it become a strength rather than a weakness.
He let his fear push and prod him until it became a source of ingenuity and
boldness rather than a reason to run from a fight. But this boy didn’t know he
was a coward. Instead, this servant saw one of the most feared warriors in the
land, someone known for chopping off his own hand in order to win a battle. It
was good the boy feared him. He liked it that way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Djumair
Silverfist watched the boy’s eyes glance down at the immaculately forged silver
fist attached to the end of his left arm. It was sculpted to perfection to
resemble the very likeness of a living hand closed into a fist. It lay, along
with his left arm, on the armrest and it glimmered in the setting sun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">“Would
you care for some more wine?” the servant stuttered, his black hair hanging
down the back of his tan, brown neck. All of the boy’s kinsmen were tanned and
brown, courtesy of this southern sun. For a brief instant Djumair felt bad for
the boy. He was a servant, not a slave, but in this society of warriors and
conquerors, once you accepted the role of servant, it was yours to fulfill for
the rest of your life. The boy would never escape it. The pity was fleeting as
Djumair remembered the boy’s interruption of one of the few moments of solitary
respite he had to simply enjoy the little things in life, like a sunset and a
glass of wine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
shook his head curtly. “Would you have me become drunk and susceptible to any
sellsword who wishes to come my way?” He barked in response. “One glass of wine
is enough for any man who calls himself a warrior. Once you have had more than
one, you cease the right to claim that title. You then become a drunkard and
just another body for your captain to throw at the enemy.” His words might have
been a little harsh, but the boy had annoyed him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">“Yes,
Silverfist, I mean, Sir,” the boy spluttered quickly to repent, “what do I know
of battle and fighting? Of course, you are right.” He spun too quickly as he
turned to walk away, and the pitcher flew from the tray, spilling its contents
all over the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
servant spun back to face Djumair, clearly expecting a tongue scathing remark
at the very least, if not a command to the whipping post or worse. Djumair
sneered slightly as he sat on the lounge chair, still reclining through the
entire interaction, and watched the boy as he clutched the tray to his chest in
fear, awaiting the consequences for spilling the wine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">His
own image as reflected in the tray caught Djumair’s eye, and he gazed upon his
reflection as he pondered how he should punish the servant. From the polished,
gleaming surface of the tray, light blue eyes stared back at him. Pale features,
unlike the servant’s, looked at him, and blond hair adorned the top of his
head. The sides of his head were shaved in the manner of the warriors of the
south, and his long, flowing locks of blond hair flowed off the back of his
head just past his shoulders like a white-gold mane. It was not held in a
braid, but it was gathered at intervals by loose, rawhide ties to keep it from
getting in his way as he moved or fought. The hairstyle left the sides of his
head clean, revealing ears that were pointed at the top, protruding in the
manner of both his northern heritage and the servant’s people. Dark or light of
skin, the pointed ears were a common feature between the two races. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Djumair
had a small, silver ring in his right nostril, but the most distinctive marks
upon his face were the three blood red tears tattooed on both of his cheeks as
if falling from the corners of his eyes. Traitor’s Tears. They marked a person
who had betrayed Andalaya in order to serve the King of the South. A decision
Djumair Silverfist had made long, long ago. The tattoos were on his cheeks by
choice. He had been the first to betray and had been the first to be tattooed.
What was now required of the northerners who chose to give their lives to serve
their new masters, he had pioneered as a twisted memorial to whom he had once
been. In a strange way everything about him was defined by choice, from the
biggest decision to the smallest decoration on his body. Nothing had been
forced upon him, and nothing would be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
stood up slowly, faced down the servant with a penetrating gaze, and then
backhanded him across the face as hard as he could. The boy dropped in a heap,
and by the time he managed to pull himself together, Djumair had long since sat
back down on his chair. He could hear the boy’s sniffles, and feel the sting on
the back of his good, right hand from the impact. It set his pulse racing and
his blood buzzing. Even the slightest hint of combat made his whole body feel
as if it were on fire. He was a warrior through and through. He feared death,
but it did not keep him from the challenge of the fray. This however, was a
simple disciplinary action and he calmed his fighting instincts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman" mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"> “Go. Now. Get a rag, or
better yet, remove your shirt and wipe up that mess,” Djumair said flatly as he
gazed at the view before him. Maybe he could recapture some of the serenity
that had preceded this unfortunate encounter—unfortunate for him, since it had
interrupted his quiet. Djumair cared not a whit for the pain the boy was
suffering.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman" mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS Mincho"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"><br /></span>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-77780110465448996292016-09-17T13:10:00.000-04:002016-09-17T13:12:38.983-04:00 Welcome Isabell Kane! @KaneIsabelle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>I want to welcome Isabelle
Kane! First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I write romance
novels and I believe that romance and love are among the most delightful
aspects of the human experience. I have a distinct fondness for flawed heroes,
and I seek to provide my readers with rich tapestries of stories in which love
is just one element of the forces that intertwine the lives of the
protagonists. I believe every dreamer deserves the adventures and escape
offered by an exciting novel.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Eagle River</b> is my
first New Adult Novel. It is a contemporary romance with a sport’s theme,
because I have always found athletic men particularly sexy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Here’s the blurb:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Rivals, Galen
Odgers and Cam Fawst have shared many things. Gifted athletes and favored sons
of Eagle River Wisconsin, both have been quarterbacks for the same legendary
football team, the Warriors. Each was raised by a strong woman, and both love
the same beautiful girl, Kjersten Solheim.<span class="apple-converted-space"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Though they
despise each other, they are inexorably linked. But there is a secret about one
of them, a secret that a mother took to her grave, that a high school coach
swore never to reveal, and one whose consequences continue to reverberate.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Can love
survive the ultimate betrayal and the revelation of a decades old secret?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>1.) Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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The Phantom from the Phantom of the Opera because despite
his at times violent and selfish behavior, he is motivated by love for Christine
and music. His love is always hopeless, and so he is a tragic hero. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>2.) Who is your
favorite character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Luke White from Calypso’s Secrets because he is both a bad
boy and an honorable hero.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>3.) What do genre do
you write? What made you pick that one?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve written Mystery/Suspense Romance, Historical Romance,
and Contemporary Romance. I have always loved reading romance, so it is very
natural that I write in this genre. However, I try to add a little extra
something to my stories so that there is more to them than just romance. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I am working on a World War Two era romance involving a
British soldier and an American nurse. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>5.) What got you to
start writing?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I have always written, even as a little girl. I think
because I loved reading, I wanted to create my own stories.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I get my ideas from all around me, perhaps from a snippet of
conversation that I overhear or a stray thought that flits through my mind. I
believe that writers have to have open eyes, ears, and minds in order to gather
inspiration for their work.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I work as an elementary school librarian and I also write
children’s books under another name.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I used to train dressage horses and I competed through the
Grand Prix level of dressage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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The best pieces of of advice that I ever received on writing
were to write honestly from the heart and the gut, and to be disciplined about
writing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what would
you talk about?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I think I would like to meet Robin Hood and find out how his
real story turned out. Did he and Maid Marion live happily ever after?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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The Glory of Love by Peter Cetera<o:p></o:p></div>
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I would say that this song inspired my views on romance and
love.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I would be a horse, because they are beautiful, powerful,
loving and loyal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Excerpt:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Chapter One<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Fair 1985 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">~ Ben ~<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was the kind of night when you held hands with your
girl, rather than tossing an arm over her shoulders, because you were
uncomfortably aware of the big sweat patches that extended all the way down to
your belt. The evening breeze was heavy and sluggish with humidity, newly spun
cotton candy, and buttered popcorn. Now and then, the heavy air would pick up a
hot breath of animal smells emanating from the stock pens. And everything was
sticky, especially the bodies of small, sun burned, black fingernailed children.
The animals tied up in the fluorescently lit “Cow Palace,” were drooping and
soggy despite the flashing lights and the cacophony of sound that rudely
interrupted the surrounding opaque silence of a fallow field in the Midwestern
night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Years later, Ben could still hear it, the manically
cheerful music of the Ferris wheel, the melodic wailing of some local country
band from the beer tent, the dull hum of voices speaking, the lowing and
bleating of the discontented animals, and, occasionally, a mother’s shrill cry
for a child that had wandered off. He could still smell it and taste it, and it
was right there when he closed his eyes. And then it would flood him and he
would ache with the tight sunbaked skin feeling of childhood summers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There was one such Saturday night that stood out as
brilliantly lit among Ben’s memories as the Vegas strip in the quiet, indigo
emptiness of the desert night. He remembered being ticked because his mother
had saddled him with Timmy Johansson for the evening, and that meant that Ben
had to leave the fair by eleven to get the kid home on time. Timmy wasn’t a bad
kid. It’s just that he tried way too hard. His mom knew the kid had problems.
She was the one who made Timmy go out for football, the year that Eagle River
made it to the State Championships. Galen’s year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That night, it turned out to be a good thing that
Timmy came along. At least he was someone for Ben to talk to, someone easily
impressed. Galen was in one of his moods. So, there they were, doing the fair
thing: Ben, Galen the mute, and Timmy, shirt buttoned all the way up his neck,
don’t-look-over-at-the-beer-tent Johansson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It must have been around ten o’clock and all three
boys were about faired out. They had taken to wandering around the stock barns
with no real purpose, blowing time, when they heard cheering and applause from
over near the game booths. There was a pause and then the same again. A good
sized crowd had formed around one of the booths. They walked over to check out
what was going on. Ben couldn’t see anything at first, but the three worked
their way through the crowd. Ben was tall and so it wasn’t long before he had a
decent view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The crowd had formed a semi-circle around one of those
games where one throws a football through a ring. The size of the prize you win
was determined by how many times consecutively a person could throw it through
the ring. The area in front of the booth was all clear, except for one figure
which was alternately illuminated and then shadowed by the rapidly changing
Ferris wheel lights. The man stood a good thirty feet from his target. At
first, Ben couldn’t make out who it was. The guy was tall and strong. His
shoulders were turned sideways. He stepped, reached back, and threw. The
football sailed through the hole. The crowd went nuts. Their hero stood still,
basking in their praise while some kid ran the ball back to him. Just then, a
light from the Ferris wheel flashed across the man’s face, illuminating him.
But Ben already knew who it was; he had kept stats at too many football games
throughout high school not to recognize that particular throwing style.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Timmy, who had followed Ben through the crowd, tugged
at his arm. “Hey, isn’t that Cam Fawst?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben spun, searching for Galen, but he had already lost
him somewhere in the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You know him, right?” Insisted Timmy. He pushed at
Ben’s shoulder. “Hey, Ben, what’s up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, that’s Cam.” Where was Galen?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Could you introduce me to him? He’s the Coyotes’
quarterback! I watched him on TV. I can’t believe that he’s actually here!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben watched again as Cam turned, stepped, and hurled
the football. It spiraled tightly, powerfully through the hole in the board.
The crowd cheered wildly again. Once more, the kid jogged the ball back to Cam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“That’s twelve, Cam,” someone shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t miss this one, Cam.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The tall figure turned into the half-light cast by the
carousel. “It’s in the bag,” that familiar deep, confident, sardonic voice
announced over the manically cheerful tune shrieking out from the carousel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No one has ever gotten thirteen, the whole fair,
Mom,” Ben heard some little kid squeal. “Look how far back he is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hush, Toby. You’ll wreck his concentration,” a
feminine voice ordered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben watched Cam critically. He turned and threw. The
ball spiraled through the air once more. So controlled, so smooth. But Cam
still threw with this arm, not his shoulder. Ben had wondered whether the
coaching Cam received in Milwaukee would correct that technical flaw. But, no.
It was still there. But, if you were really critical, if you examined his
throwing style as a potential NFL player, then you would have to admit that he
didn’t use his shoulder the way the great ones did, the Johnny Unitases, the
Dan Marinos. Still, Cam was impressive. And he remained Eagle River’s favorite
son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Once again, Ben searched the crowd for Galen, but
there was still no sign of him. Is Kjersten here? Ben’s stomach twisted. God,
he hoped not. It was way too soon for Galen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then, as he stared into the front rows of the crowd,
the frenetic flash of the Ferris wheel lights reflected off moonlight bright
long hair. He could just make out the familiar long, slender frame. God no!
She’s here. Galen can’t deal with her right now, too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Desperately now, Ben searched for his friend. He moved
away from the awestruck Timmy and began to shoulder his way back through the
crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hey, watch it, kid,” a rather large farmer growled at
him. In his haste, Ben had jostled the farmer’s lady.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sorry,” Ben shouted over his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“That’s Oscar Happe’s boy, isn’t it?” Ben heard the
farmer’s wife ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Rude little bastard,” the farmer responded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Perfect. But Ben had no time. Later, he would go back
and apologize, but after he got Galen out of there. As he pushed through, the
crowd began to thin. There, at the very edge of the huddled masses, stood
Galen. At six feet four inches, Galen easily observed the scene over the heads
of most of those assembled. His hands were jammed into the pockets of the faded
Wranglers that clung to his long, muscled legs. Idly, or was it with restrained
hostility, he kicked the toes of his battered and scuffed Roper boots into the
dirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Galen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He looked in Ben’s direction, but he didn’t notice
Ben. Galen’s eyes seemed focused inward rather than outward. His face nakedly
revealed pain and shattered dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Galen? Kjersten’s here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, Ben. I know, and I’m okay.” Now Galen’s face
was emotionless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Let’s get out of here, Galen. I’ve had enough of this
hick fair.” To be honest, Ben felt more comfortable seeing him this way. This
was the face that most everyone else saw. Ben knew that he was probably the
only one outside of Galen’s family who ever saw him that other way. Galen had
been through a lot with his mother dying last year and then the break up. No
question. No one knew that better than Ben did. It was just that Galen hid it
so well most of the time that Ben could forget or pretend, for a while at
least. Then, he was the old Galen, the one he’d grown up with, not this new
bitter and haunted person.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">An “Aw,” reverberated through the crowd. Clearly, Cam had
finally missed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Galen Odgers, is that you out there?” Sal, the rotund
bar owner’s mellow baritone called out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, Sal. It’s me.” Galen answered as he raised his
eyebrows at Ben.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What amazing timing. Ben tugged his friend’s arm.
“Let’s get outta here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What you doin’ out there, boy? Come on up here. You
show Cam how a real football player throws.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sal’s great bulk parted the crowd like Moses did the
seas, the round, glowing end of his thick cigar preceding him. He strode up to
Galen, threw a great hairy forearm around Galen’s neck and dragged him through
the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Galen,” Sal chuckled, then cleared his throat of
chunky cigar sputum. “You get up here and show Eagle River what you got.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sal, I’m not up for this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hey Cam,” Sal shouted out, ignoring Galen’s protest.
“I got a challenger here for you. Bet ya this high school string bean can out
throw a college star. Galen here is a real ball player. You see that ring over
there, Galen? Cam tossed that pigskin there through it thirteen times from where
he’s standing. I got a twenty that says you can make it to fourteen.” Sal moved
back towards the football toss, dragging Galen with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Suddenly, there was chaos. People shouted out to Galen
and Sal’s voice continued to boom out, taking odds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben stood stock still. If you know a guy as well as
Ben knew Galen, had grown up with a guy, you understood how he felt about
things, about people, about Kjersten and Cam, in particular. Feeling anxious,
he jostled his way back to the front of the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Meanwhile, Galen had taken Cam’s place. He stood
silently, facing the target. He had to be nervous, what with the whole town and
Cam and Kjersten there. Please God, don’t let him screw up. Please. Ben crossed
his fingers. Galen drew his arm back and threw, quickly. Too quickly. Yes! It
went through. One. The ball was run back to him. Again, he just drew back and
blasted it. Two. Yes! Then, another. One more. On and on. The relief washed
over Ben. Galen was keeping it together. He was sweet. Ben started to get
excited, to get into it with the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben hadn’t seen his best friend play ball for most of
Galen’s senior year. Ben had been away at college. He had heard that Galen was
a real talent, but this self-composed, accurate quarterback was a far cry from
the long limbed, loose cannon he remembered from a year before. Galen’s weight
was balanced delicately, dancer-like on the balls of his battered, old, laced
up work boots. His facial features were relaxed while his eyes were focused on
that white ring in the distance. He seemed not to hear the voices shouting his
name all around him. He appeared equally oblivious to Cam, who stood just off
to his right side, and to the din and the flashing lights of the surrounding
fair. Effortlessly, Galen tossed that football through the hoop, pausing only
long enough for the boy to run the football back to him. Unlike Cam, who had
reveled in the adoration, working the crowd, Galen was lost in the job at hand
and he was really, really good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As one, the crowd shouted the number of the throw out
loud, drowning out the sounds of men betting and the fair noises: “Ten… Eleven…
Twelve.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The tension built with each successful throw. The
crowd sucked in air as one, exhaled in relief as one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Thirteen.” Galen had tied Cam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Unable to resist, Ben searched for Kjersten again. In
the shadows by Cam, Ben could just make out her profile. Maliciously, he wished
that he could see her face as she watched her old boyfriend show up her new
one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Fourteen...Fifteen...Sixteen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hysteria was building.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Seventeen...Eighteen...Nineteen...Twenty... Oh,” the
crowd groaned as one. Galen had finally missed. The football had bounced just
off the edge of the ring. Then, everyone went nuts. Galen stood still as the
crowd swarmed around him. Ben saw Sal give him a few congratulatory smacks on
the back. Then, Ben lost sight of Galen in the mass of people congratulating
him. Gritting his teeth, Ben forced his way closer in. When he finally caught
sight of Galen again, Cam had already cornered Galen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Suddenly, Ben was fourteen-years-old and too chicken
to help Galen out when Cam decided to make trouble for him. Cam wasn’t really a
bully. He had never really cared enough about other people to waste his time
trying to dominate them. Besides, he’d always enjoyed the kind of hero worship
that other boys gave to superior athletes. But things were different between
Cam and Galen. There’d always been something strange between those two, a
heavy, dark feeling of which schoolboys should not have been capable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben observed that Kjersten was on Cam’s arm.
Long-limbed and slender and fragile, she passed under the lights, completely
visible for the first time. The high cheekbones, the full lips, and the elegant
neck were the same. Shouldn’t people look different when everything changed so
much? But Kjersten was the same, albeit a thinner, more serious looking girl.
She still wore her hair long and straight down her shoulders. She still moved
with that particular step, seeming to dance forward, like the sprinter that she
had once been. Her face was serene, still, and classically beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ben watched as Cam held out his hand to Galen. “I’m
glad that you’re keeping the standard up at old Eagle River High. I was worried
that the Warriors would slack off with me gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Galen stared at the proffered hand and then, slowly,
hesitantly, reached out and took it. From his vantage point, Ben saw that both
men were putting a good deal more than cordiality into their grips. Their hands
remained interlocked, their eyes meeting, the smile thinning from Cam’s lips,
neither one giving in. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they released. A draw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Your name is Galen, right?” Cam continued, that
bright “for the fans” smile accentuating the hungry lines of his jaw. “Galen
Otter, or Oller?” Of course Cam knew Galen’s name, but thankfully, Galen didn’t
take the bait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Odgers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I remember now. You were that weedy sophomore backup
quarterback.” Cam chuckled familiarly. “You always brought me towels and water
all through my senior year.” He punctuated his comment with a friendly nudge at
Galen’s shoulder. But Cam’s eyes were sharp and focused on Galen. “I remember
you had a big case of hero worship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Unfazed by the clumsy jab, Galen stared straight back
at him. “Too bad you didn’t play much last year, Fawst.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cam quit smiling. “Things are different in college.
Players run faster and hit harder. It takes anyone a while to adjust. You’ll
see what it’s like if you get that opportunity. Throwing a football through a
hoop is a cute trick but it won’t get you far in a college football game.” Cam
paused, regaining his composure. “You decided where you’re gonna go next year?
I’m sure that there are a lot of division three schools who would give you a
shot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Galen didn’t take the bait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Well, see ya.” Cam was tired of the games.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hi Galen,” Kjersten’s voice was soft but carried
through the darkness like a knife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Galen nodded his head curtly towards the girl,
acknowledging her, but didn’t turn to look at her. “Kjersten.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Cam assessed them, looking back and forth between
them. “That’s right, you two know each other.” He tossed an arm possessively
over Kjersten’s shoulder and pulled her tightly to him, staring at Galen all
the while. “Here’s my good luck, Galen. You need to get yourself one of these,”
Cam chuckled at his own coarse joke. Kjersten’s face remained determinedly
impassive, her body, stiff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hey Cam,” Sal’s cigar roughened voice cut through the
weighted silence. The large bulk of the bartender appeared at Galen’s side.
“You gonna be around town for a couple of days?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I’d planned to stay through the weekend,” Cam
answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Would you mind stoppin’ by the bar during the Brewers
and Twins game? You know what big Coyote fans we are. The guys would be
thrilled if you would just come in and shoot the shit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sure, Sal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Thanks, kid.” Sal was pleased. With satisfaction, he
twisted the cigar between his teeth. “Galen, you comin’ by, too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I don’t know, Sal. There’s a lot of work I gotta do
at the farm. It’s tough to get away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No longer the center of attention, Cam turned away.
“Come on, babe. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this small town
bullshit,” Ben heard him mutter to Kjersten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Suddenly, a hot, sweaty hand grasped Ben’s forearm.
“Hey Ben, I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought that you’d ditched me.”
It was Timmy. “Do you know how late it is already? My mom must be having a
stroke. I haven’t called her in over two hours and it’s almost eleven. We’ve
got to go soon or I’m gonna be late for curfew.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yeah, let’s go.” Galen broke abruptly away and strode
off, his long legs eating up the ground, leaving Ben and Timmy in the dust.
They followed and tried to keep up at first and then fell behind. A stalk of
corn from last year’s crop, suddenly jammed into the arch of Ben’s foot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Shoot.” Ben knelt down, pulled off his decrepit
sneaker, and rubbed the abraded skin. He looked up as Galen swung open the door
of his beat up, old pickup and hopped in. Ben cringed at the brutal clang of
rusted metal on metal when he slammed the ancient door shut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Timmy waited while Ben adjusted his shoe. “Is he okay?
Galen’s not pissed with me, is he? I didn’t mean to act like a dorky little
kid. It’s just that my mom worried. Do you think he’s pissed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t worry about it, Timmy. Galen’s not pissed with
you or me. He’s just dealing with some stuff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As Ben straightened up, Galen started the engine. The
ancient Ford was moving their way. It pulled abreast of them. “Come on, Ben.
Let’s go,” Galen said impatiently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Timmy hopped in and Ben followed a moment later. Galen
shifted the truck into gear and swung it around. They spun off in a cloud of
dust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Purchase links:</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Amazon: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Eagle-River-Isabelle-Kane-ebook/dp/B01GWPDQ4S?ie=UTF8&qid=1469322315&ref_=la_B00K3OPJS6_1_2&s=books&sr=1-2#navbar">https://www.amazon.com/Eagle-River-Isabelle-Kane-ebook/dp/B01GWPDQ4S?ie=UTF8&qid=1469322315&ref_=la_B00K3OPJS6_1_2&s=books&sr=1-2#navbar</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Publisher:<a href="http://www.satinromance.com/authors/isabellekane/eagleriver.html" target="_blank"> http://www.satinromance.com/authors/isabellekane/eagleriver.html</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Smashwords: <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/642723">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/642723</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Social Media Links:</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Author Website: <a href="http://www.kaneandtremaine.com/">http://www.kaneandtremaine.com/</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/isabellekaneromance/">https://www.facebook.com/isabellekaneromance/</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/KaneIsabelle">https://twitter.com/KaneIsabelle</a></span></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-91856115477789134742016-09-09T17:33:00.000-04:002016-09-10T12:20:47.697-04:00My Latest Guest Marilyn Meredith!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I want to welcome Marilyn
Meredith. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Seldom Traveled</b>
is the latest in the Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery series. Back from her
vacation, Tempe is immediately confronted with the murder of a vacationing
woman with tangled ties to Bear Creek, a fugitive on the run, and a monstrous
forest fire. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>1.) Who is your favorite author?
Do you feel you write like them?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I have many favorites with William Kent
Krueger probably heading the pack. And no, I don’t write like him, but I do try
to do as well as he does with setting. There are so many others, the
old-favorites and lots of the new authors, male and female, though I must
confess, I read far more women authors than men.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>2.) What was your favorite book
growing up?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
The only title I remember right off is <b>The Angry Planet</b> and I must confess I
don’t remember much about it except I loved the characters. Of course I read
Nancy Drew and the Little House on the Prairie series. I always checked out 10
books at the time from the library and I read all my mother’s Book of the Month
Club selections—including <b>Gone with the
Wind</b> many times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>3.)
Are you a plotter or a pantser and why did you choose that method?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’m a bit of both—probably leaning more
town pantser, though I always start with a premise and the names and
description of the new characters like the victim and the suspects, and the
murder method. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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4.) Do you consider writing a career or
a hobby? Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
A career—though if you have to make a
lot of money to call it a career, then maybe not. However, if it’s based more
on time spent writing and promoting, then it’s definitely a career.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>5.) What are you working on now? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Because I write two books a year, while
I’m promoting the latest book in one series, I’m writing the next in the other series.
So at the moment, I’m working on the as yet untitled next Rocky Bluff P.D.
mystery.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>6.)
What one piece of advice would you like to pass on to an up and coming author?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Read the kind of books you want to
write—and write, write, write.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>7.)
If you had the ability to time travel and your first visit was to see a younger
version of yourself what would you say to that younger self?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Learn more about the craft of writing
sooner. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>8.)
You just got a million dollars, whether it’s from an inheritance, the lottery,
or a sweet book deal doesn’t matter. What would be the first thing you would
buy for yourself?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
A different car with lots of room to
haul books and equipment to go to book fairs and other book related events.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>9.)
If you could un-invent one thing in the world what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Hatred. This would be a different world
if people if people didn’t have the ability to hate. Loving one another is so
much easier. We don’t have to agree with each other, just respect the fact that
we are all different and be kind to one another.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>10.)
What is your favorite movie/TV Show? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I like any movie or TV series that is
well-written and acted. However, I am partial to mysteries in TV series and I
have many favorites including many British series.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPxmkK8hzpxPektTw7pbUPysyElf-Z9VqZsNy2FPyA_UEas5M0lqHfAcGu7c4tRw39euZZKHnQCsNYuJQ9_bZTLuBX7bOrFFRKq-BOulMimAm-CcyBznY7ECyrQjg76El7JpnmT95JoiK/s1600/Seldom+Traveled+Front+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPxmkK8hzpxPektTw7pbUPysyElf-Z9VqZsNy2FPyA_UEas5M0lqHfAcGu7c4tRw39euZZKHnQCsNYuJQ9_bZTLuBX7bOrFFRKq-BOulMimAm-CcyBznY7ECyrQjg76El7JpnmT95JoiK/s1600/Seldom+Traveled+Front+Cover.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Bio:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Marilyn Meredith is the author of over thirty books in
several genres, but mainly mystery. She embraced electronic publishing before
anyone knew much about it. She taught writing for Writer's Digest School for
ten years and served as an instructor at the Maui Writers Retreat, has been a
judge for several writing contest, was a founding member of the San Joaquin
chapter of Sisters in Crime, serves on the board of directors of the Public
Safety Writers Association, is also a member of EPIC and Mystery Writers of
America.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Marilyn lives in the foothills of the Southern Sierra
in California in a place much like Bear Creek where her heroine Tempe Crabtree
serves as a resident deputy. She is married to the "cute sailor" she
met on a blind date many years ago and is grateful for all the support he gives
her and her writing career every day. She is proud of the fact that she and her
husband raised five children and now are grandparents to eighteen and
great-grands to thirteen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"What happens in my books is the only place in my
life where I have any control," Marilyn says, smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Blurb: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The tranquility of the mountain community of Bear
Creek is disrupted by a runaway fugitive, a vicious murderer, and a raging
forest fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Deputy Tempe Crabtree is threatened by all three.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm2ug5kYQGYaXWxrfJFUAwJPNu8pmHmXLkzh0Rsg_mTdCibQk4r80LlkkL5EJlKG9HQg-SKgPkTPCM7pAs6gmr7-EbiHPVFvFk4iw67IoJZRRG9ulT6obacAAbtqIPy24UJ7FJMeza5PX/s1600/Me+in+patio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm2ug5kYQGYaXWxrfJFUAwJPNu8pmHmXLkzh0Rsg_mTdCibQk4r80LlkkL5EJlKG9HQg-SKgPkTPCM7pAs6gmr7-EbiHPVFvFk4iw67IoJZRRG9ulT6obacAAbtqIPy24UJ7FJMeza5PX/s320/Me+in+patio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Excerpt:</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The dispatcher reported an escaped fugitive had been
spotted headed for the small mountain community of Bear Creek. Deputy Tempe
Crabtree was ordered to cooperate with the federal and county authorities. It
was her first day back from a vacation which had included her son’s wedding.
She’d also received a report of a missing woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Welcome home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was late October and nearly dark. Tempe knew she
wouldn’t be spending time with her husband during the next few hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The fugitive, Morris Delano, escaped from deputies
while being transferred from the county jail to another county for trial.
Delano had originally been captured after a long and successful bank robbing
spree that covered several Southern California counties. Local deputies boasted
about their ability to catch the suspect while he attempted to rob a local bank
in Tulare County after he’d eluded capture by much larger cities’ law
enforcement. Their boasts didn’t amount to much now that they’d lost him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Deputy Marshals had been called in to organize the
search.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Besides his booking photo, what the authorities
thought they knew was the man made his getaway in a stolen white, late model
Chevy truck and headed up the highway toward the mountains of the Southern
Sierra and the small community of Bear Creek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tempe received a call from a resident who’d noticed an
abandoned Chevy truck a couple of miles above town on one of the bridges that
crossed Bear Creek, the river the town was named after. Wearing her tan deputy
uniform, she shrugged into her official jacket. As usual, she wore her long
black hair in a single braid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She called in the information and proceeded to the
scene in her own white truck with the official Tulare County Sheriff’s logo on
the sides.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Because the deputies and the marshals weren’t far
behind, they arrived before she’d had much time to examine the abandoned
vehicle. The driver’s door stood open and she’d only had time to glance inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Uniformed men poured out of official cars and trucks
they parked on the main highway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the marshals, wearing a bulletproof vest over a
gray shirt, a fully-equipped belt, and black pants, stepped up to her. The man
towered over her. Unusual.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Deputy Crabtree, I’m Marshal Gallegos. Did you spot
the driver of this vehicle?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No, sir. I arrived only a few minutes ago. The key is
still in the ignition. It appears he ran out of gas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
Gallegos asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Not really. The highway heads east toward isolated
private residences, campgrounds, Tapper Lodge and eventually dead ends in the
forest. There are many side streets and lanes, but none of them go anywhere.
There’s only one other rough road that heads back toward town, eventually going
through the Indian reservation. Only a few cabins and no year-round residents
are there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“And back the other way?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The town you just came through with homes on both
sides of the river all the way back to Dennison.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We’ve got our work cut out for us, then. If you get
any reports of a stranger trying to break in anywhere, let us know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She waited for him to give her other instructions, but
he ignored her. Since she was an Indian she was surprised he didn’t want her to
help track the suspect. She guessed he didn’t want her on the search, perhaps
because of her ethnic background, or maybe he didn’t like women in law
enforcement. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d run into such prejudices.
“Anything else you’d like me to do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We have it covered.” He didn’t bother looking at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A deputy with a dog arrived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Might be a good idea if you searched along the
river,” Tempe said. “The water is low right now. Your suspect could have easily
crossed over in several places.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We’ll handle it.” Marshal Gallegos sounded annoyed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tempe shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Marshal Gallegos barked orders to the men gathered. He
sent the deputy with the dog down the side of the river bank. The other men
fanned out in both directions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Since she wasn’t needed, Tempe decided to check on the
whereabouts of the missing woman. She’d been given an address of a large
vacation home farther up in the mountains. It belonged to the wealthy
Konstanzer family. During the thirties, they’d bought many acres in the
mountains, with the idea of building a ski resort. When the plan hadn’t been received
with enthusiasm by the county planning commission, they found another area for
their resort. They kept their vacation home, though as far as Tempe knew, their
descendants didn’t use it more than one or two times a year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">According to the report she’d received, it was the
granddaughter, Mariah Konstanzer, who was missing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tempe knew little about Mariah except that at times
her photo turned up in magazines like “People” on the arm of a movie star or
famous businessman. The only time Tempe had seen Mariah in person was when
Tempe had investigated a burglary at the vacation house. Mariah arrived to
spend a few days and found the front door unlocked, the back door lock broken,
and several items missing. She didn’t seem upset, and stated what was taken could
easily be replaced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tempe remembered her as a willowy type, with long dark
hair. Her rather plain looks were enhanced by makeup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was impossible to know when the burglary happened,
and no fingerprints could be identified. Burglaries in remote areas without
nearby neighbors often went unsolved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tempe vaguely remembered Mariah Konstanzer saying
she’d tell her parents to hire someone willing to serve as a caretaker. Tempe
didn’t know whether or not that had happened. After letting the dispatcher know
she was no longer needed on the search for the fugitive and planned to check
the house of the missing woman, she called her husband, Hutch. “I’m going to be
late.” She explained what was going on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Don’t they have a backup deputy to take your place?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Doubt there’s anyone left. Everyone’s looking for the
bank robber. Be sure to keep our house locked up. No telling where that guy is
by now, but I have a feeling he’s following the river. If he’s smart, he’ll
head back to town. Anyplace higher is rugged with no place to escape.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I’ll put your dinner in the refrigerator.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I’ll come home as soon as I can. Love you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Love you too, be careful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br />
Links:</div>
<div class="yiv8067911651MsoNormal" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473454984114_7971" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, "Lucida Grande", sans-serif; font-size: 13px; padding: 0px;">
Visit me at <a href="http://fictionforyou.com/">http://fictionforyou.com/</a></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Blog: <a href="http://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com/" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1473454984114_8001" rel="nofollow" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; background: transparent; color: purple; margin: 0px; outline: auto; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">http://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com/</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "segoe ui" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13px;">Publisher: <a href="http://mundania.com/book.php?title=Seldom+Traveled">http://mundania.com/book.php?title=Seldom+Traveled</a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-34801588143339840612016-09-05T10:11:00.000-04:002016-09-05T10:11:26.623-04:00Hermine and Labor day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi All,<br />
<br />
Normally I would have an interview up and running about now but because it's the Labor Day weekend and family normally invade I decided to take a break. It's hard to get the blog up when I have to entertain at the same time.<br />
<br />
But we got company we didn't really want. Hurricane Hermine. What a pain! Lots of wind and water. I live in tidewater VA and as bad as the news might make it sound it's not bad here. We do have low lying areas so flooding isn't unusual for us, but where I am there has been no flooding and maybe a branch or two on the ground.<br />
<br />
I hope the rest of the coast fairs as well as we have.<br />
<br />
Keep dry everyone and enjoy Labor Day if you live in the states.<br />
<br />
Barb:)</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-76006168901795944852016-08-27T16:23:00.001-04:002016-08-27T16:23:19.292-04:00Meet My Latest Guest Ryan Jo Summers! @RyanJoSummers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I want to welcome Ryan
Jo Summers! First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Tell us about your
latest release. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is called <b>Upon the
Tide</b>. This was started many years ago when I lived across the road from a
marina and worked third shift. Consequently, I spent long hours in the early
mornings and afternoons watching the boats and ferries come and go. It was a
great time and full of many good memories. As you can probably guess, I love
boats and the water. Out of all that came the origins of <b>Upon the Tide</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of the action of this book takes place aboard boats,
with a heroine who had one previous, terrible boating experience. She is not a
happy camper! However, the locale is the Caribbean! And she’s with a sexy hunk
who used to be a detective. Too bad someone’s out to kill them, right? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>1.) Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is a tough one. Until now, I never realized I haven’t
focus on the villains because I’m really drawing a blank on any villain beyond
the baddies in my books. And they are certainly not my faves. The only villain
I can think of elsewhere is Cruella de Ville from ‘101 Dalmatians’ and I really
kind of just hated her. So I guess I don’t have a villain I ever cared about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>2.) Who is your favorite
character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now this is easier! I adore all my heroes. Most are working
class guys, hearts of gold, quiet and sort of shy. Oh, and handsome too. (That
always helps) It would be hard to pick one because they are all special and
dear in their own way. Interestingly, I’m falling in love with a four year old
girl named Ruthie from my current work-in-progress. I tend to use kids as
filler, secondary characters. However, Ruthie is such a livewire, she is taking
over the scenes and pages with her energy, sass and sparkle. I was not
expecting her to have such personality, but I am having fun watching her go. I
just wind her up with a sentence or two and off she runs, full throttle!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>3.) What do genre do
you write? What made you pick that one? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The genre is romance, the subgenres stretch from time
travel, paranormal, shape shifting, mystery, Christian, and sweet. Many are
blended mixes of any of the above. I also have written a young Adult/ New Adult
and a women’s fiction novel. Why? Well, they say to write what you like. My
first book I just wrote without even thinking of genre. It had the stuff in it
I liked to read. Ditto for the next ones. It started that way as a youngster. I
worked up to YA, as a teen, not knowing that was a genre. I simply liked S.E.
Hinton style of books. Then I discovered Harlequin, Silhouette, etc. … and
started writing what I liked in their imprints. It was my first publisher who
labeled it romance and to be honest, I was kind of surprised to say I was a
romance writer. Still am, actually. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A Christian romance
with Ruthie, who is taking over. Then I want to rewrite an older time travel
romance. I’m also in the research stages of another book, which will be set in
the Golden Age of piracy. I am on the fence about making it a time travel as
well. I think it would be a cool plot that way, but two time travels at once??
Humm, I already can’t remember the current date now as it is. Two eras, and two locations and I won’t ever
know when it is. Oh, and I’m plugging away on edits for my Christian romance
coming out in November.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>5.) What got you to
start writing? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Age ten, family situation that rocked my world. I grabbed
pencils and paper and wrote it out and drew illustrations. I didn’t know that I
was writing, I was simply trying to cope. I always loved to read since my
earliest memories. That situation was the catalyst to figure out to put pen to
paper and opened my imagination. It grew from there. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Oh my gosh, everywhere! Anywhere! Songs, pictures and simple
comments can open a whole new vein of thought for me. Entire stories have been
written from one picture or one chance event. Multiple scenes can certainly be
written by a line in a song or any of the above. I keep a file of headlines and
newspaper/ magazine pictures that spark something, waiting to turn them into a
story. My friends know to be careful what they say to me—it might become part
of a book.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I am adopted, though I have known both sets of parents. I
have never had any sense of smell—good or bad scents. I tend to become very
passionate about issues I care about. Sometimes I get too involved, so that I
have gotten into trouble. I prefer trucks and Jeeps over cars and have an
insatiable sweet tooth. I have over
fifty houseplants. I make my own suet and hummingbird nectar for the wild birds
and I cook my parrot’s breakfast from scratch each week. And I ask questions
about everything. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I can paint and write poetry. I am great at dealing with
fractious animals. (by-product of working as a veterinary technician for many
years) I have a super green thumb and my cats challenge it constantly. I like
getting discounted dead plants from home centers and bring them back to life.
The challenge isn’t reviving the plants, it’s keeping the cats from chewing on
them. I am also quite crafty with needlepoint, floral design and such.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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As a child, I was shy, awkward and had low self-esteem. I
was quiet and reserved. My mother had an elderly friend who allegedly wrote
stories. (I could never find any in print or on line) She saw something in me
and took an interest in the kid everyone else tended to overlook. One day my
mother mentioned I liked books and sometimes wrote a little something. Her
friend studied me quietly, thoughtfully and finally told me I could be an
author. In my mind, authors were highly regarded, intelligent, esteemed, and
elite individuals. To be one of ‘them’ was an honor and distinction. And this
woman, one of the people who had consistently seen value in me, told me I could
become one of ‘them’. That simple comment--so thoughtfully spoken—raised my
self-worth in ways I could not describe. And now, many years later, I am one of
‘them’—an author. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what
would you talk about? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Believe it or not, I am coming up blank on this question.
I’d love to talk to some departed loved ones, but they are only famous to me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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There is no 1 song. Some encapsulate a snapshot of time, for
example Jo Dee Messina’s “Heads Carolina, Tails California” embodies a short
period in 2004 when I left Michigan. It was literally ‘Toss a dart at the map
and see where it lands’. I ended up in North Carolina. I see a bit of myself in
“Desperado” by The Eagles/ Clint Black. I also see parts of my life in “Riser”
by Dierks Bentley and “Moments” by Emerson Drive in darker periods. I resorted
to asking friends and co-workers, since they see me at my best and worst.
Answers range from “Doctor Dolittle” and “Old MacDonald had a Farm”, owning to
my love of animals and houseful of assorted, beloved pets (aka fur/feather
-kids), a Bonnie Raitt song, “I Will Not be Broken”, and a song by Superchick
called “Stand in the Rain”. (Admittedly I had to go listen to the last two on
YouTube and was pretty flattered when I did) <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Another tough one. It’s a toss-up between cat, dog or horse.
Cats are agile, graceful, and small enough to get into interesting places and
hardy enough to take care of themselves. The perfect blend of beauty,
independence, playfulness and ultimate laziness. Yet dogs are great. They are
well suited to their function, whether they are working dogs, toy dogs or
whatever. I have a collie and think the world of him. Dogs are the best
combination of loyalty and protection, function and form and most are lovely to
look at. I am a fan of big, hairy working dogs. Oh but horses! I love horses.
Powerful, loyal. Smart. To be able to run like the wind, and still be gentle
enough to work with the smallest, frailest humans and strong enough to pull or
carry the heaviest loads. A unique mix of strength and gentleness. What a
decision! And birds are awesome too, especially the parrots. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">EXCERPT:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Actually,
it seemed kind of simple to her. The bad guys chasing them were being
eliminated. Once they were all gone, she and Kade could return to their
previous lives. Personally, the reasoning of why the great chase across the
Caribbean didn’t mean as much to her as just ending it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">However,
as much as she knew she had to return to work and home, a part of her whispered
it had been nice just being with Kade on his boat. Nice enough, that whisper
nudged, to want to continue it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Nonsense,
she told the nudging whisper, pushing aside a strand of hair picked up on the
breeze. Sure, it had not been all bad, but she still had responsibilities back
home. Coming here had been a vacation only. Not a romance. Besides, she had no
room in her life for romance. Regardless how pleasurable time with Kade was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Gibberish,
her mind whispered back, almost laughing at her. Huffing irritably, she stomped back to
the galley to fix breakfast. Yanking sausage out of the fridge, she slapped it
on the cutting board and slashed away at it with a knife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Links:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">WEBSITE: <a href="http://www.ryanjosummers.com/">www.ryanjosummers.com</a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">BLOG:<a href="https://summersrye.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"> http://www.summersrye.wordpress.com </a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">FB: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ryan-Jo-Summers-author-page/312875648810797">www.facebook.com/pages/Ryan-Jo-Summers-author-page/312875648810797</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">TWITTER: </span><a href="https://twitter.com/RyanJoSummers" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">https://twitter.com/RyanJoSummers</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> BUY LINK: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Upon-Tide-Ryan-Jo-Summers-ebook/dp/B01FFTOD26?ie=UTF8&ref_=asap_bc#navbar" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">https://www.amazon.com/Upon-Tide-Ryan-Jo-Summers-ebook/dp/B01FFTOD26?ie=UTF8&ref_=asap_bc#navbar</a></div>
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Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2919402264816783689.post-8798094063761139292016-08-20T10:46:00.000-04:002016-08-20T15:04:10.226-04:00Welcomemy Latest Guest Christina Hoag @ChristinaHoag<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>I want to welcome
Christina Hoag. First I’d love you to introduce yourself.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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First off, thanks so much for hosting me on your blog, Barbara,
and giving me this space. I’m a novelist and journalist. I’ve been a reporter
for the Associated Press and Miami Herald, and was a foreign correspondent in
Latin America for nearly a decade. Now I work freelance so I have more time to
devote to my fiction. I’m passionate about reading and writing, and have been
my whole life. I’m a member of International Thriller Writers and I’m a
volunteer creative writing mentor to at risk girls with an organization called
WriteGirl.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Tell us about your
latest release.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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It’s a YA romantic thriller from Fire and Ice YA titled <b>Girl on the Brink</b>. It’s the story of a
girl, Chloe, who gets involved with the wrong guy—haven’t we all done that at
some point in our lives?—and this leads to some pretty drastic consequences for
Chloe. But Chloe is smart and a survivor. She conquers her fear, summons her
strength and not only survives but thrives. Ultimately, it’s a novel about the
journey of girl power.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Now I have a few
questions for you – I have found readers do like to know fun things about us
writers.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>1.) Who is your
favorite villain – it can be from a book (even one of yours), movie or TV show.
And why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I always wish Arthur Conan Doyle had done more with
Moriarty, the foil to Sherlock Holmes. He’s a baddie of Holmes’ own intellectual
level, which is a setup for some great plots.
In general, I find criminal masterminds who use their superior intellect
for villainous purposes the most interesting antagonists. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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2.) Who is your favorite character out of your books? Why?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have to say it is Magdaleno, the protagonist in my
literary thriller set in L.A.’s gang underworld <b>Skin of Tattoos</b>, which is also being released this month by Martin
Brown Publishing. Mags struggles to do the right thing and leave the gang, but
his pride and ego get in the way. He’s just so humanly flawed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>3.) What do genre do
you write? What made you pick that one?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I write character-driven thrillers. I love crime fiction, delving
into the seamy side of life and what drives people in that world, but a lot of work
in that genre is very formulaic, which gets boring after a while. I like to see
how extraordinary events, which often happen in the context of crime, affect
character so that’s what I write. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>4.) What are you
working on now?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve got two novels both in the final stages. One is called <b>The Revolutionaries,</b> and it’s a
literary political thriller based on the 2002 coup attempt in Venezuela, where
I was living at the time and working as a freelance journalist. The other is
called <b>Angels Lust</b>. It’s a detective
mystery set in Los Angeles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>5.) What got you to
start writing?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I won a prize for “writing interesting stories” when I was
six years old so I guess writing was always there. It came out as soon as I
literally learned how to put pen to paper. I discovered journalism in high
school so I knew that’s what I wanted to do as a career. I’ve written fiction
on and off my whole life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>6.) Where do you get
your ideas from?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Like any writer, I draw on my own experience and what I see
around me. Working as a journalist for many years has deeply influenced my
fiction. As a reporter, you have an entrée into many subcultures, slices of
life and people that normally you would not have access to. I’m also a
passionate traveler. I’ve visited over 60 countries so international themes
really call to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>7.) What would people
who read your work be surprised to find out about you?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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I didn’t come to the United States until I was 13 years old.
I lived in six other countries growing up: New Zealand, where I was born, Fiji,
England, Sweden, Nigeria and Australia.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>8.) Do you have any
special talents?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I love languages. I speak Spanish fluently, a decent French
and a smidgen of Italian. I always wanted to learn more languages. I’m
fascinated how language reflects culture, but it takes a lot of practice to
keep them up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>9.) What was the one
piece of advice you received when you were an aspiring author that has stuck
with you? Why?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Never, never, never give up.” Winston Churchill said that,
and it’s so true. Early on in my creative endeavors, I gave up on myself too
easily. It took some maturity to realize you have to keep going even in the
face of an onslaught of rejection. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>10.) If you could talk
to any famous figure (present, past or fictional) who would it be and what
would you talk about?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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I think it would be William Shakespeare. I’d love to ask him
about his creative process, his philosophy of life, try to figure out the
source of that marvelous wisdom. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>11.) What song would
you say describes your life?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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A tough one. I think I’ll go with Van Halen’s “Jump,”
because I believe in not letting fear hold you back from taking leaps into the
unknown in life–I’ve taken many. Plus, I’m a huge seventies big-hair rock fan.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>12.) If you could come
back as any animal – what would it be?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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I’d come back as a scarlet macaw. They are majestic birds
with such resplendent colors. It always wowed me when I spotted them soaring
wild and free over the jungle canopy in Latin America. The romantic in me also
loves the fact that they mate for life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>EXCERPT:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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The carnival sets up
for two weeks every summer in a field outside town. Everyone goes. It’s
something to vary Indian Valley’s monotonous diet of bowling, the single-screen
movie theatre, miniature golf, and hanging out at the Dairy Cream. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kieran grabs my hand
as we stroll into the fair. It’s a riot of dazzling lights, whirling rides and
thumping music. I scan the crowd, hunting for Morgan and Jade, who I spot
waiting for funnel cakes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, there are my
friends.” I wave frantically at them with my free hand as I tug Kieran with the
other. Morgan sees me, points me out to Jade and they both look my way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kieran yanks my hand
in the opposite direction. “We’ll catch up with them later.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I want you to meet
them. I told them all about you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I just want to play
my favorite game for you first.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t refuse. I
let myself be pulled and make an apologetic face at them. Morgan’s expression
hardens. She says something to Jade. The crowd swarms between us, and I lose
sight of them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kieran steers me to
a shooting-at-moving-ducks game and grabs a rifle. He’s a good shot and soon
wins a white teddy bear with a red satin heart sewn on its chest. He hands it
to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“For you.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Thank you. It’s
adorable.” I proudly tuck it under my arm.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Just like you. Hungry?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Starving.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Me, too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We make for the food
concessions. “Carnival hot dogs are the best,” Kieran says. “The pizza and
hamburgers blow.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Totally,” I say as
we line up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We buy hot dogs
slathered with relish—and root beer, of course—and sit at a picnic table.
Kieran straddles the bench, patting the seat in front of him. I sit astride
like him. He inches closer so our knees touch. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Open wide,” he
orders, looking at my mouth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I obey. He feeds one
end of the hot dog to me, then leans in and bites the other end. I crack up and
almost choke.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Don’t laugh,” which
comes out something like “doan waf” through Kieran’s mouthful of hot dog. <o:p></o:p></div>
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No hands, he chews,
swallows and takes another bite. I do the same. We manage to eat the hot dog,
and at the end, our lips touch. Kieran presses mine into a kiss. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 14.0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
“So that’s why you
like carnival hot dogs,” I say when we break apart. “To steal kisses.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, I told you
they were the best. Hold on, you have mustard on your face.” He swoops in and
licks the side of my mouth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I wipe off his
wetness. “Ew, Kieran!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Mmmm, salty.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I giggle. He swoops
in again and licks all around my mouth and lips. His tongue tickles, and I
laugh as I shake my head, sucking in my lips, trying to get him off me as I
crack up harder, which only encourages him. He slurps my cheeks and chin, and I
try to recoil out of his reach, but he pulls me to him. Finally, he backs off
and dabs my face with a napkin as I recover my breath.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re worse than a
puppy,” I say.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ruff, ruff.” He
pants and holds up his hands like paws, then<b> </b>jumps to his feet, holding out his palm. “Come on. Time for
rides.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We run like it’s an
emergency. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Cup of tea, Madam?”
Kieran points to the tea cups, then<b> </b>pushes
open the just-closing gate and leaps in a cup. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We spin madly in the
tea cups, chase, block and slam each<b> </b>other
in the bumper cars, cling to each other in the haunted house.<b> </b>We finish with a ride on the Ferris
wheel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s getting late,
and the crowd has swelled with rowdy revelers<b> </b>who obviously made a pitstop at a bar before the carnival. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 14.0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
“Let’s go,” Kieran
says, after a guy, drunk or stoned, stumbles<b> </b>in front of us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 14.0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
“I really wanted you
to meet my friends.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“We’ve got plenty of
time for that. It gets nasty this time of<b>
</b>night, a lot of fights.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay.” I give a
last three-sixty turn in case Jade and Morgan appear. Kieran’s right. Cliques
of older guys and girls hang around the perimeter, smoking and drinking from
paper bags.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We swing our clasped
hands as we walk to the parking lot. I wish the night would never end. When we
get in the truck, he blasts the air conditioning and rolls down the windows. We
pull out into the street, and as the AC chills, I close my window. Using his
control, Kieran buzzes it down again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The AC’s on,” I
say.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I know, but doesn’t
it feel great? To feel cold air and warm air at the same time?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 14.0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
He accelerates.
Bathtub-temperature air whooshes along the side of my body, while my chest is
cooled by the AC. The combination feels luxurious.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re right. It
does feel great!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He grins. “Told ya.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“My mom would kill
me for doing this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“That’s why you’re
hanging with me, not with her.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 14.0pt; mso-hyphenate: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
He snakes an arm
over and slides off the elastic holding my ponytail. I shake my hair loose and
let the wind whip it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;">
“That’s it, sweetpea, be free.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 121.5pt;">
<span class="apple-converted-space"><b>BUY LINKS<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 121.5pt;">
<a href="http://amzn.to/2aRFsVZ">http://amzn.to/2aRFsVZ</a><span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .3in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 121.5pt;">
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/657690" target="_blank">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/657690</a></div>
<o:p></o:p>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none;">
<b>SOCIAL MEDIA<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none;">
<a href="https://facebook.com/ChristinaHoagAuthor">https://facebook.com/ChristinaHoagAuthor</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none;">
<a href="https://twitter.com/ChristinaHoag">https://twitter.com/ChristinaHoag</a> @ChristinaHoag<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 121.5pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; mso-pagination: none;">
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7341116.Christina_Hoag">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7341116.Christina_Hoag</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.christinahoag.com/">www.christinahoag.com</a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
Barbara Donlon Bradleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04736670279161854416noreply@blogger.com0