Even death holds Dark Days of Promise…

Newly widowed Vicki Laramie is struggling to make ends meet. While her three children grapple with the death of their father, she must find a way to support her family and find a role model for her boys.

When her best friend's, brawny son, Kelly Chase, returns from the sand box of war it doesn't take long for Vicki's children to encompass him with their affections. But Kelly has secrets that could harm those who love him most.

When tender empathy meets deadly reflexes, the attraction explodes into lethal violence between opposing forces. Vicki must choose who she will trust, with her strongest ally absent; she has no one to lean on but herself. If she chooses poorly her children will be deprived of both parents.

Getting toknow Author Marsha Ward (her latest: Spinsters's Folly is coming out Nov. 10th!)

Q: Marsha, who are you as a person, versus as an author?

A: I am a hermit. I love solitude. I am very quiet, very shy. I'm quite uncomfortable in crowds because I usually end up a wall flower without anyone to hang out with. However, I'm also a ham, and have enjoyed being in musical productions through the years. I was raised in a musical family, and studied in college for a career in opera. That plan took a sidetrack, though, and never came into being. Instead, I've taught many subjects in many venues.

Q: When did you first know you wanted to be an author?
A: According to my older sister, I wrote from the time I could hold a pencil, and constantly talked about writing “my novel”. Although I believe her, I have no idea how a child so young as I was even knew about novels. Be that as it may, there's never been a time that I didn't have some kind of story to tell. I was editor of the 4th Grade class newsletter. About that time, I wrote a play dealing with the Acadian people’s migration. I wrote a couple of screenplays for a film club I was involved in during my high school years. And of course, my "Great American Novel" began its life in 1965. I didn't get the commercial I-think-I'll-actually-let-other-people-read-my-work bug until the 1980s, though.

Q: What was the pathway like for you to get your first book published?
A: I began my "Great American Novel" in 1965, when my train to opera stardom took a detour and I had to give up my full-ride music scholarship and come home to help out financially. I created a huge Southern family, wrote what was, essentially, a twenty-chapter narrative outline, and lugged it around with me for the next 35 years or so. Then my interest in writing commercially got very keen when I read a truly badly-written book. "I can do better than that!" I exclaimed, and hauled out "The Book." I eliminated some children, found some juicy conflict, read 150 books for background, and worked on the novel for a while. I took classes in fiction writing, and started sending the novel out to editors as I wrote the sequel. I even had an agent for a year. I was getting some good rejection comments, but no offers. I decided a re-write was in order. Then life happened.

My daughter was killed in an auto accident. My creativity dried up. It didn't come back, oddly enough, until my husband died. He was my biggest supporter, and I'm eternally grateful to him for that.

Then life happened again, and during a health crisis, I determined to leave published works behind, even if I had to publish them myself. I polished up The Man from Shenandoah and Ride to Raton. Because I didn't want to start a publishing company, I chose to use the cheapest services available from iUniverse, and get feedback from writers and readers I knew. When The Man from Shenandoah appeared, I hand-sold a bunch of copies, and lo and behold, other readers liked it! Several months later, I brought out Ride to Raton. Trail of Storms took a while to write, but was published in 2009. I'm working on the fourth novel about members of the Owen family, Spinster's Folly.

Fortunately, I survived the health crisis.

You are an inspiration to me personally. Thank you. Q: Were you ever discouraged along the way? If so, how did you deal with it?
A: I'm often discouraged. It's part of the writer's makeup. I have to muddle through, with a lot of prayer and communicating with other writers to get my balance back.

Q: What is your writing schedule like?
A: I'm supposed to have a schedule?
I fall into the category of “Writers who wish they had a more structured writing schedule.”

I hate that category (it includes me). Terribly hard to realize one is in a writing slump. Q: What do you hope readers will get from your books?
A: Actually, hope itself. I had an epiphany several years ago when I realized that I write to let people know there is always hope, and to show them through the experiences of fictional characters that they can get through hard times, even really, really terrible times, and find happiness at the end of it all.

One of the hallmarks of my fiction is fast-paced adventure, peopled with believable characters. Readers tell me when they're forced to put a book down they worry about my characters until they can read about them again. If I can take people out of their own worrisome lives enough to be concerned about fictional folks and see them through to a satisfying ending, then I've done the job of relieving some of their day-to-day stress. Isn't that what books are for?

Q: Do you ever experience a snag in a story, a form of writer's block? If so, how do you deal with it?
A: That terrible sound you hear is me groaning in agony. Yes, I encounter snags. My favorite way of dealing is to avoid and procrastinate, but that doesn't get the book written. The best way is for me to set very low expectations for myself so I don't self-sabotage. A lot of highly creative people have oppositional defiance, and I find that tendency is well-developed in me. To counteract it, my goal is often to write 25 words a day. I could do that on a sheet of toilet paper, right? Surprisingly, the tactic works.

Twenty-five words…one word or two? Yeah, I can do that…Q: Do you need absolute quiet to write? Do you listen to music when you are writing?
A: Right now, I'm listening to the music of my dryer drum turning. I don't need absolute quiet, but since I'm very easily distracted, music with lyrics is a no-no. I use instrumental music to get me in the proper mood for certain scenes that could be hard to write. Exceptions to the no-lyrics rule? Neil Diamond and "Sweet Caroline." That will put me in the mood.

(Me in the other room rummaging through old records)…Neil Diamond…Yes…Oh pooh! It doesn't have "Sweet Caroline" hey, but I can sing it! (Is this another one of my self- sabotage thing-ys?) Q: What kinds of inspiration do you use during your story creation periods?
A: Mindless activities are great for letting the mind wander while I accomplish a task. Taking a walk, taking a shower (water seems to inspire, or relax or something), getting enough sleep so the characters come to talk to me.

I'm all for the walk and even the water (okay, I go for a drink of water) but sleep? That sounds like one of my self-sabotage tools. Q: What’s your secret to making the characters in your books come to life?
A: I get to know them very well. I have a sheet of questions I fill in about them, and I also interview them. Then I don't overwrite them with too much description. I let their actions define them, instead. That way, the reader invests the characters with their own unique qualities and peculiarities, and they come alive in the reader's mind.

Okay, so I'm going to have to wheedle a copy of those questions…a worksheet perhaps…Q: What words of advice do you have for other writers who desire to publish their manuscripts?
A: Two words: Indie publishing. There's nothing stopping a writer from making the connection directly to the reader anymore. Get started by reading the blogs/websites of JA Konrath and Dean Wesley Smith. Google will find them for you.

Q: What are you working on now?
A: I'm doing research for the fifth novel in the Owen Family Saga, entitled Gone for a Soldier. This is Rulon Owen’s story of his experiences as an infantryman during the Civil War. We’re going to see what made Rulon the caring big brother you see depicted in Spinster's Folly. I’m very excited about the project. The American Civil War has had a deep pull on me since I was in high school. Let’s see how many errors I can avoid. Civil War enthusiasts are very picky.

I listened to a couple of enthusiasts at the library critique their costumes. Whew! were they picky! Q: Where can our readers go to find your books and order them?
A: All the online booksellers, such as amazon.com and bn.com, have the trade paperback books. The easiest way to find all my online eBooks is to go to my author pages at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/marshaward and at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Marsha-Ward/e/B003RB9P9Q/
The eBooks are also on Kobo Books, and Diesel Books, in Canada.

Q: Any final words you would like to share?
A: I'll address this to writers: Believe in yourself, but learn all you can about writing, too. No first drafts are set in stone. Don't hang around negative people. Write at least 25 words a day. Listen to people to learn the flow of language. Find a good, encouraging group of writers who will show you the ropes. Read, read, read! When you start writing in earnest, find a good critique group. Reach down and help another writer along the way. Is that enough?

Blog: http://marshaward/blogspot.com

Website: http://marshaward.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/marshaward

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

Books on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Marsha-Ward/e/B003RB9P9Q

Ebooks on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/marshaward

Debra Parmley

Debra, thanks for taking time to visit today. Despite being blunt, what novel are we talking about today?

Aboard the Wishing Star, my first contemporary romance which comes out Oct. 11th

So I'm sure you're counting down. Every release is exciting. Remind me why should we read Aboard the Wishing Star.

Aboard the Wishing Star is set on a cruise ship sailing the Caribbean with an ex-marine hero, a young widow who has a fear of water but learns to snorkel anyway, her creepy boss and an element of danger. If this intrigues you, this might be a good story for you.

Intrigues me? Of course, this is my kind of romance. What makes this novel different from others?

Without giving away plot twists/surprises I haven't read any romances which had a heroine with a water phobia and though there are stories set on cruise ships what happens when the heroine disembarks on one of the islands and finds her boss waiting is probably unique.

Ah hah! I see the typical "What would happen if?" that authors make a living asking, at work here. How long did it take you to write it?

This was actually the second novel I wrote, though it has been almost completely rewritten three times. (Me chuckling 'cause I just did this with one of my own.) From third person to first person then back again into third. It was a real learning experience, one I would not repeat. Trying to please a former agent and editor tied this book up for a few years. How long to write it? Six years, though I would set it aside and work on others while waiting to hear back about this one. Two of my books were published during that time frame and several others started.

A real lesson in not sitting on ones laurels. Did you do any specific research? What did you learn that surprised you?

This one required no research because it comes very much from what I know. I was a travel consultant and prior to that I traveled a lot. The Caribbean cruise route they are on is one I have traveled on more than one occasion and I've sailed on many different cruise lines and ships.

Wow, that makes for a promising read with all the pictures you can paint with your words. I'm getting excited about the cruise from here. What is it that you would like readers to take with them from this story?

To face fears and phobias so they don't get in the way of a joy filled life.

So true, so true. You say you've been on lots of cruises. Tell us one thing from your personal life that made its way into this story.

The heroine has a phobia of water and so do I. Like her, I learned to snorkel anyway.

I'll bet you added in a good measure of your fear with this. What are you most passionate about, other than writing?

Dance. I love to dance and to watch all forms of dance.

Blondes think alike. Gentlemen, are you listening. We love to dance. Do you have a pet?

Now that our youngest son and his dog have moved out our house is empty of pets. I'm trying to decide which breed of dog I would like next and have been pet sitting and visiting friends dogs while I contemplate this. (My hand shoots in the air.) A Shih Tzu, you have to get a Shih Tzu. They don't shed even if you have to keep their hair cut or comb it out regularly.

Are you a baker, a chief, a microwave mom, a quick and easy or a take-out/delivery queen? Your favorite?

Ever since I was in high school I have baked and I have a big sweet tooth. I've never been a microwave mom or a takeout/delivery queen. As the only female in our family of four, that would have been beyond our budget. Now that they're grown and on their own I much prefer healthy salads, veggies and fruit from the farmers market.

Thus the trim figure to go with the dancing. Where do you get your inspiration to write?

Everywhere. Every life experience I have really.

How did you choose the title?

The Wishing Star is the name of the ship they are sailing on, so this one really fell into place.

Is there any symbolism with the cover art for this book? Tell us about it.

There are three falling stars to wish on, on the cover. I'll leave it to my readers to find them. ;-) (Owwe…pause here to enlarge photo and search for stars.)

Of all you heros/heroines, who is your favorite and why?

Right now, Bethany, the hero of the book I am working on now. She's the youngest heroine I've written so far and she's learning to be more independent and more assertive. "Trapping the Butterfly" is set in the 1920's and will be an April 2013 release.

Love the title. So, any funny "researching your book stories" that you would like to share?

Nothing funny so far. Hot, loud, heavy and with plenty of smoke though. That was the experience of shooting black powder guns for research for my second book, "Dangerous Ties", which is set in the wild west.

Are you a panster or a planner?

A pantser by nature, though I have to plot some to submit a proposal.

Are any of your characters based on real people? If they are, do you tell them?

Threads from here and there are woven. If I borrow one aspect of a real person, I make sure everything else is different. Though I am pulling a real gangster into my roaring twenties novel, I'll keep him as a minor character and make sure he doesn't grab center stage. My secondary characters sometimes come out strong and have to be toned down.

Strong is better than paper thin in my way of thinking. If you could legally lay claim to writing any book from the classics to the most recently released book, what would it be and why?

Peter Pan or Alice in Wonderland or some equally imaginative story which would bring new worlds alive for children and adults. Books like that have always given me great pleasure, however I've yet to pull off a children's story. Most of my stories turn themselves into romance whether I intend it or not and I very much enjoy writing romance. (Me smiling my agreement here.) There's something very beautiful though about children's faces who are listening to a story and caught up in that world. What a gift such storytellers give to the world.

If you could be any fictional character, who would it be and why?

I'd rather be a real character and travel the world in a beautiful ship with an excellent captain and a chef to cook all the meals while I write my stories.

Nice, can we come along? I promise to stay on my side of the ship and write, except when we agree on a critique session of course. What have you loved the most about this story? What have you hated about it?

I love the way Nate treats Kara, teaching her to snorkel, letting her know she is safe and he's there for her. He's protective and will take care of her but he also wants her to learn to be strong and unafraid.

Back when I had rewritten the story into first person (on advice I should not have followed) I didn't like the story very much. But maybe it didn't like me either. It didn't want to be in first person and that is what I should have listened to. Lesson learned.

If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?

Well, that ship with the crew would be nice. That or a beach house to write in. Other than that, I'm doing what I love and so grateful I am able to write full time now.

What is the one question you never get asked at interviews, but wish you did? (And of course we would like your answer.)

Hmm I've never really thought of that before. Who's my favorite secondary character? Old Moss, in my first book. He's one of those cranky old men, who isn't so cranky beneath that outer crust.

Where can we purchase your book?

My book is available online wherever ebooks are sold and on my publishers website.

http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-360/Aboard-the-Wishing-Star/Detail.bok

Thank you for having me here today. It's been fun!

You are welcome! Come again in the spring with your next release too, won't you?

What is the key?

Thank you Shaunna for inviting me to your blog today. On 21st July my fantasy romance "The Sixth Key" was released by Desert Breeze Publishing. The novel is set on the alternate world of Sacral, a world ruled by telepaths. It's a sweet romance and suitable for sixteen years and older.


Fantasy books are my favorite to read and write. I love creating worlds for my characters. Once I have the basic outline and characters in my head, the world develops around them. Sometimes I get rapped over the knuckles by the characters as they decide something isn't right and they want it changed. The end result is usually a combined effort.

I learned early on in my writing efforts to listen to my characters. They know themselves better than anyone else, including me, but they don't always know what's best for them. At the end of the day I'm the author and if I feel really strongly about a trait or scene I insist it goes my way. A little sulking follows, but it all comes out fine in the end.

The Sixth Key centers around Riley, a young woman from Earth, who wakes up after an accident to find she's on a world ruled by telepaths. Caught between the man who brought her to Sacral and the leader of the Mutes, Riley must solve the Riddle of the Keys to discover the identity of the real King of Sacral.

I hope you enjoy the excerpt below and don't forget, leave a comment and be in to win an ebook version of "The Sixth Key" at the end of the blog tour.

Buy Link: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-324/The-Sixth-Key-Sue/Detail.bok

Website: http://www.sueperkinsauthor.com/  


Excerpt posted by permission:

A cold drizzle fell on Riley as she left home on Monday morning. The weather matched her mood. Another weekend wasted waiting for Jothur to contact her.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He's gone Riley. Left without a word. He's probably taken up with some fancy woman in another town.

Head down, she pushed her way through the crowds, heading for the bus stop. Riley didn't pay any attention to those around her. Her thoughts were fixed on her time with Jothur.

They met at a party. A casual friend asked her to be nice to the stranger who had only recently arrived in town and didn't know anyone. Riley clutched her drink tightly and gazed unbelievingly at the tall, blond, handsome man. His smile made her insides melt, and when he spoke, the liquid tones of his voice flowed over her as molten chocolate.

Desperate to keep his attention, she offered to show him the around the town. Jothur accepted, and for several weeks they were inseparable. Riley couldn't help herself. She'd fallen hard for this gorgeous man. Did he feel the same way? Of course he did. Her guess proved correct when he talked about their future together. The day after they'd discussed this -- he disappeared.

No explanations. No note. No phone call. Riley's worries surfaced when he didn't turn up for their next date. To make sure nothing had happened to him, she'd grabbed her jacket and opened the front door before realizing she had no idea where Jothur lived. He'd always been pretty vague about his address, but at the time Riley hadn't thought anything of it.

Days passed. None of her crowd knew where Jothur lived either. Her misery increased. This had been her fourth weekend alone and she had to accept Jothur had left with no intention of coming back. It didn't mean she had to like it though.

The drizzle turned into a downpour. Raindrops bounced off the black road surface, but through the noise she could hear a bus approaching.

Great. Miss this one and she'd be late for work. She dashed out into the road, head down, trying to keep the rain from her face. A horn blared and brakes squealed. Riley stopped. Her head jerked up to see a huge yellow truck bearing down on her. The driver's horrified face filled her vision before everything went dark.

Fight in Progress!

Disclaimer: This fight is a work in progress.

Quinn rode closer to the camp, dismounting at the firelight's ring. "Smells right inviting." He nodded at the woman and the plate of beans in her hand.


"When she ain't burnin' it or dumpin' it on ya." The old timer turned his attention to the woman. "Get the man the rest of 'em vittles."

Quinn watched her. She glanced longingly at the beans and then handed him the plate. As he took the plate he noticed that her hands were tethered. A length of rope kept her within the ring of firelight.

"Have a sit. Move woman or ya'll get no blanket tonight."

The woman eyed her captor, an inkling of hunger mixing with the loathing glare. She moved away from him as far as her tether would allow.

Quinn nodded his thanks and grudgingly took her seat on a comfortable rock. He spooned a healthy bite into his mouth. They tasted awful. What had she done to them? The old timer took his place on a ratty stool and resumed his meal, seemingly unaware of the offensive taste.

"Bet cha'r wondrun' 'bout this." The old man traced the tether in the air with his spoon.

Quinn nodded in a nonchalant manner taking a smaller bite of beans.

"Ungrateful wretch. Saved 'er life, I did. An' this 'eres the result."

"She volunteered to be your slave, did she?" Quinn knew better, but wanted to hear the old timers version of the story. Nothing made it right to tether a woman like this, especially one that seemed rather unhappy about it. If she were a cattle wrestler than it might be different.

"Jus' opposite. Old Curly saves her life an' she weren't even appreciable. Ya ever heard of that?"

"I said 'thanks'," the woman said.

Curly yanked hard on the rope causing her to fall. Quinn considered the rope, following it with his eyes to find it anchored to a large rock near Curly.

Anger boiled in Quinn's throat. You couldn't force someone to be thankful and if anything Curly had heaped the wrath of a woman on himself. He managed to hide his feelings. Could Curly be reasoned with? Was Curly the type of man to seek revenge if Quinn stepped in to ruin his plans? Would he have to outright kill Curly to set the woman free? At best, Curly had warped motives for keeping her within his grasp.

"Women," Quinn drawled. "Seems they're more trouble than they're worth. Are you a gambling man, Curly?"

"Thinking of takin' 'er off my hands, are ya?" Curly shook his head. "Not 'fore I get my poke."

"Tough time getting that poke?"

"Ain't been the time."

"So what's stopping you?" Quinn measured the man across the campfire from him, disgust growing with his every word.

"Nothun now. My belly's full. I ain't a greedy feller. Ya can 'ave a go, jus' as well. Then we know what stakes we're playin' fer."

Quinn looked around to see the woman grasping a stout branch in her hands, obviously planning to stand her ground.

"No way. Over my dead body. You want a go? I'll take your manhood first," she hissed.

"Wretch!"

Quinn stood turning to face her, the plate of beans forgotten. He spread his hands, his fingers extended. He tried to reassure her, mouthing the words, "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

Curly's shadow grew, then distorted as he skirted the fire. "Ya go fer 'er hands. I'll hog tie 'er."

Quinn's hand recoiled at the same time he spun. His knife flashed once before sinking into Old Curly's shoulder. The stout branch caught him off guard. The second swipe hit him and all went black.

====
Okay, I'm being mean, but you'll have to read the book when it's released next spring to fine out who won the fight.
Talisman Series
Criss Cross for Love

Nurtured In Purple

Excerpt from Nurtured in Purple

Used by permission of author, Jude Urbanski


Elizabeth had come to this planning meeting simply because her mother harped she never did anything at church. She didn’t want to be here at all. Planning a boxed supper auction wasn’t her idea of fun even if the proceeds did go to an orphanage mission project. Orphanage.No doubt the brainchild of one of the elder Orbins.

There sits Kate with her adorable new son. Her adorable son. Not mine.

Besides Kate, Winnie Orbin, Margie Craig, Myrt Rich, Nan Holden, Ermon Upchurch and a few other ladies Elizabeth didn't know at all clustered around the table in the church basement. Of course, Mama was there. She had insisted Elizabeth come.

These ladies were the doers of Chanute Community Church. Most had attended all their lives, as their parents before them.

Well, maybe not Kate. She hadn't been here all her life. She was a foreigner. A foreigner melded to the most aristocratic of families. How had that happened? How? It shouldn't have happened.

Elizabeth took in the women, all well dressed, but she couldn’t help notice how her own Mama’s dress surpassed them all and how her rings glittered on her fingers. Mama still looked pretty good for her age.

Elizabeth absently twisted the large diamond on her own ring finger. The date was creeping closer and soon she’d be Mrs. Willard Wittenberg. Not what she had wanted, but she guessed it would do. Willard wasn’t all bad.

"Oh, Elizabeth, we’re glad Adeline brought you. We can sure use your help," Winnie Orbin said. "We’ll need several cakes and pies to auction and I wonder if you and your mother would bring your famous lemon pound cake for the auction?" She looked toward Adeline.

Adeline answered, "Winnie, we’d be glad to bring a lemon pound cake, won’t we, Elizabeth?" Her hand strayed to her silver hair, tucking in what didn’t need tucking. "It’ll be practice for us. We’re having lemon pound cake at Elizabeth’s wedding shower next week." She smiled.

Elizabeth did not feel the need to say anything.

Mama, why do you always tell everything you know?

"That’s exciting. When is the wedding, Elizabeth?" Ermon Upchurch sat beside her.

"It’s in five weeks, during Fall Break at school. I have nearly everything done, just last minute things left, you know."

"Good for you, Elizabeth," Margie said, "I’ll soon be the only unmarried one in Chanute Crossing!" She laughed.

"Margie Craig, you’re single by choice, so let’s not hear any more about it, okay? Remember Bob was single a long time before I came from St. Louis to marry him."

"Nan, we all remember your arrival and how happy it made Bob," Winnie said, "but, ladies, right now, we’d best get back to planning. Our event is less than two weeks away."

Elizabeth watched Winnie quietly, yet efficiently organize and delegate until every detail was completed. Though she hadn’t wanted to, Elizabeth said yes to working behind the boxed supper booth at the social.

Willard wouldn’t be too happy. He was hanging in there with the Men’s Bible Study, but she felt his frustration and sometimes anger with the group. Especially toward Seth, whose kindness Willard found hard to understand or accept. It made him suspicious. He wasn’t used to kindness. Never had been.

"Well, ladies, thanks for coming tonight. We got a lot accomplished, didn’t we? Call if you’ve any questions. Otherwise, I’ll see you in just over a week." Winnie folded her papers.

As Elizabeth and her mother left the church and walked toward their car, they noticed Kate struggling to get her car door opened and keep hold on her purse and her baby. She had dropped her keys.

"Hey, Kate, I’ll get those keys. Let me." Elizabeth moved toward Kate and picked up the keys that had slid almost under the car.

"Why thank you, Elizabeth. I was having trouble juggling everything. Don’t quite have all my energy back yet it seems." Kate flashed a smile. "Appreciate it."

"Oh, it’s nothing. Your little baby is nice." Elizabeth gingerly touched the baby blanket and turned to walk away.

"Yes, he is sweet, Kate. Well, good night," Adeline said, following Elizabeth.

"Well, thank you both. Tommy is a special baby."

Elizabeth set her mouth in a firm line, attempting to forget the beautiful, dark-haired little baby snuggled in the blue blanket.

So, Kate is not as well as it appears?Umm.


http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-305/Chanuke-Chronicles-Book-Two-cln-/Detail.bok


http://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Chanute-Crossing-Book-ebook/dp/B008AE9T7S/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1339428113&sr=1-2

Review




Nurtured in Purple, Jude Urbanski's second installment of her wonderful series brings the reader back to charming Chanute Crossing. Her writing style is unique and draws you right into the storyworld. It's the skill of a gifted author who can take two rather despicable characters from the first book, Willard Wittenberg and Elizabeth Koger, and make them likable to the point of understandable-and even more surprising-lovable. She makes them relatable because of their respective backgrounds, and explores their vulnerabilities and insecurities. In spite of their personal vendettas and need for revenge, you'll find yourself still rooting for this couple because they want to do better and need one another. Theirs is a sweet and touching love story. This book is also a sentimental reunion with Seth and Kate Orbin from the first book, Joy Restored, and Ms. Urbanski's terrific "cast" of supporting characters return as well. Seth and Kate endure trials of their own, but overcome the odds and model Christian faith and forgiveness in action to a skeptical and resistant Willard and Elizabeth. Grace, redemption and love abound, and this book will leave you smiling. A bonus "romance" is also included, and oh, how sweet it is! All-around, this is a terrific read and I very highly recommend it.

Dragon Clans

Hi everyone and thanks to Shaunna for hosting me to talk about my newest release, young adult fantasy 'Dragon Clans' – the second book of the Dragon series.

Dragons are cool! I love reading and writing about dragons, my favorite mythical creatures. I've been an avid fan of Anne McCaffrey and her Dragons of Pern series for years.

The dragons of the Treaty Alliance have their own communities, histories and morals. They are the indigenous intelligent species of Nuer. They work well together, but the red dragons are not part of the Alliance and are considered a dangerous enemy.

In the first book of the Dragon series, 'Dragon Flame', the human settlers are welcomed by the four dragon clans. 'Dragon Clans' relates the story of Sie, an orphan who is rescued from the sea by the leader of the red Valdra dragons. The Valdra adopt her and she agrees to help them contact the Alliance. Will she need to interact with the humans of Nuer to achieve this?

 
A Young Adult romance released thru Desert Breeze Publishing. "Dragon Clans" is the second volume in the Dragon series.

Plucked from the sea by a red dragon, the human woman Sie joins the Valdra Clan. Her red friends wish to join the dragon Treaty Alliance, but the other clans consider the Valdra wild and aggressive. Byron, a human friend of the Mondra Clan, works with Sie to overcome the many obstacles in their path. Will the other clans be able to forget the Valdra's past betrayals and present day destructive behavior? They believe they have succeeded but the planet has its own way of disrupting their carefully laid plans.

Publisher's Link for further information: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-325/Dragon-Clans-Sue-Perkins/Detail.bok

Buy Link: http://tinyurl.com/dragonclans

Webpage: http://www.sueperkinsauthor.com/

I hope you enjoy the excerpt below and don't forget to leave a comment to be in to win an ebook of 'Dragon Clans'.



Excerpt used by permission of author.

The waves washed over the boat, swamping the small vessel. Sie huddled in the stern, her knuckles white with cold, hands clamped to the wooden sides. The hood of her cloak had blown back some time ago, allowing the rain to plaster her red hair across her face. She didn't dare raise her hand to clear her eyes, this would mean letting go of the boat. Clothes soaked with rain clung to her body, and the chill went through to her bones.

What am I doing here?

At the front of the boat her two older brothers struggled to keep them afloat. The crashing waves filled the vessel with water and with food bowls in hand they tried to bail the water back into the sea. Gorva, the eldest, yelled at her to come and help, but Sie couldn't move for fear. She knew this would mean a beating later, but surviving the present held more importance.

Ever since her parents' death her life had been miserable. The older brothers had grudgingly provided a home for appearance sake, but they didn't want her with them. A fifteen-year-old cramped their style. She hated her life in their house as a drudge. If anything went wrong they blamed her, and the rebuke often ended with a smack across the face or worse.

They'd come up with this stupid idea and dragged her along. Dragons lived on the other continent, and they were convinced there would be dragon treasure to steal.

The two idiots hadn't planned anything, the normal way for their escapades. They'd set off in a boat too small for the journey across the ocean. The food had run out after a few days, and she'd borne the brunt of their anger, catching the blame for everything. Now the storm had descended on them with the sea and rain crashing and pounding their frail craft.

Someone help us, please! We're in the middle of an ocean in a terrible storm. The boat will sink soon. Please, if you can hear me, I need your help!

Sie knew no one would hear her mental scream. If they did, who would care enough to rescue them? A clap of thunder shook the sky, followed by a lightning flash into the sea. Huge waves crashed across the boat. Her younger brother lost his grip, and Sie heard him cry out as he disappeared overboard.

"No!" Gorva lunged to the side, but his movement made the boat lurch and dip lower, curtseying to the waves. Sie grabbed the sides as the vessel overturned and threw her into the water.

Her cloak tried to keep her beneath the surface, but Sie fought against the drag and rose up for air. Nearby, the upside down boat tossed in the waves, and she swam toward it, grabbing hold of the ridge along the upturned bottom. Once secure, Sie looked round for her brothers, but could see no sign of them. The tumultuous sea and the dark clouds scudding across the sky filled her view.

I'm going to die. A sob caught in her throat as an icy cold wave blinded her. No one knows where I am, and no one will know I'm dead. I might as well let go and drown quickly. I don't want a slow, horrible death.

A small part of her refused to give up, but time passed and her strength ebbed away. Her fingers began to slip and her cold fingers tightened their grip. How much longer could she hold on?

A shadow darkened the sky.

More storm clouds. How much more are you going to throw at me Mother Nature?

A wind beat down on her, and Sie looked up. Huge red talons reached for her and plucked her from the water. The scream died in her throat as the owner of the claws curled the talons around her. The loss of her brothers, death stalking her, and now this. Darkness crowded in and unable to take anymore, Sie fainted.

Could working with the Dead be Dangerous?

http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-301/Keller-County-Cops-Book/Detail.bok
Suspense excerpt from Deliverance from Evil:

"Are you enjoying school, dear?" Dr. Madeline's seemingly innocuous question rattled Tessa. The therapist smiled. "I assume you must like it, since you went back voluntarily."

"Yes," Tessa finally croaked. "I'm looking forward to graduating next year."

"So you can work with the dead."

"Yes." She fixed her gaze on the gun in the doctor's hand and gulped back the urge to flee. Trying something while Dr. Madeline stared at her would be suicide.

The therapist cocked her head. "Why'd you choose mortuary science, Tessa? Why do you want to work with dead people?"

"Because the dead can't hurt me," she answered, unable to stop the flow of words. And live people, especially gun toting nuts like you and perverts like Dempsey and Stuart, have the ability to mortally wound me. She fisted her hands and glared at her captor. "It's safer that way."

"Oh, I see." The therapist made a note on her pad. "Well... I suspect that must be a residual affect from your stepfather's abuse."

"Probably so," Tessa answered, her mind whirring. This session was far from normal, but for some reason she couldn't stop answering the woman's questions. Was she that starved for attention? That desperate to be heard?

Dr. Madeline sent her a sideways glance. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Yes. No." She shook her head. I can't say anything about Cash, especially since he's a detective. That might send the doctor into a tailspin.

The therapist lifted her brows. "Yes and no? Please... go on."

"Well..." Tessa swallowed and eyed the umbrella she'd pegged as a weapon, then jerked her gaze off it. She didn't want to give her plan away. "I-I almost went out with someone not long ago, but decided against it. I'm... I'm just too busy with school and work."

"You need to marry and settle down. Start a family."

"I'll do that later." She squirmed in her seat "Once I've finished school."

"We often think we have all the time in the world, when we really don't," Dr. Madeline said, pinning Tessa to the chaise with a bitter gaze. She lifted the gun. "Isn't that right, dear?"

"I-I guess so." Tessa went rigid. The therapist's persona had changed yet again, switching from curious doctor to angry villain in the blink of an eye. Who would she be next?

The doctor got up and paced back and forth, the pistol glinting each time she passed the window. "I've done my best to help you, Tessa."

"I-I know you have." Afraid not to give the woman affirmation, Tessa slid forward on the chaise, inch by inch, and prepared to drop her feet to the floor. "You've helped me be happy."

"Not lately." Dr. Madeline spun. "You've ignored me."

"That's not true." Tessa halted, afraid to move, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself. She had to get to that umbrella, and keeping the doctor pacing and calm was the only way. The more agitated the woman became, the more likely she'd shoot. "I readily took your call last week, when you told me you'd moved your practice here."

"You were just being nice." The therapist wagged the gun, then marched back across the room.

Tessa signed in relief and slid a little farther toward the edge of the chaise. "Wasn't your goal to rescue me from a terrible situation and help me grow up healthy and strong?"

"Of course it was," Dr. Madeline snapped, her eyes riveted to the plush carpet.

Tessa took advantage of the woman's temporary lapse to put her feet on the floor and transfer her weight to her heels. The desk was only a few feet away. If she could make a big enough leap...

The doctor whirled and shouted, "You work with dead people! How is that normal?"

"It's a job. Someone's got to do it."

"Not my Tessa." Dr. Madeline stalked toward her. "What are you doing?"

"I-I have a cramp." Tessa clutched at the back of her thigh, took a step to her right, and pushed herself to her full height. So much for subterfuge. "I need to stand up."

"Get back on the chaise," the woman cried. She raised the pistol and aimed it at Tessa. "Right now! Move."

"No!" Tessa shouted, diving for the umbrella. Her fingers hit it and sent it tumbling to the floor. She went after it.

A shot rang out...
--
Melanie Atkins
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EMILY'S NIGHTMARE--Coming August 1--Desert Breeze Publishing
DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL--Available now!--Desert Breeze Publishing
BLOOD RITE--Available now!--Whiskey Creek Press

Chatting with Dave Bond

Q:  Regular followers will notice that the scrolling books have disappeared. There is a reason for that... to accommodate my guest, Dave Bond. Dave, would you like to share with readers why you have requested this accommodation?


A: The complete answer is more technical than anyone, including me, wants to delve into, as a blind person, I use software on my "normal" computer known as "screen reading" software. It is very smart (and expensive), and simply reads what is on the screen. I have a tremendous amount of control over what it reads me, and how, including the speed and pitch of the voices, as well as the ability to change voices if I choose.

I use the standard voice pre-loaded with the software. The software is called JAWS (Job Access With Speech). You might derive from this name (first sold back in the early 90s I believe) how the focus of making computers accessible to blind persons has a connection to jobs. How well things have worked out is a topic for another discussion, but suffice it to say, because of JAWS, I can type using a regular computer and a regular word processing program (Word), and do most of what any other author is able to do concerning writing and editing a manuscript.

In recent years, with the Internet (and most other computer programs) becoming more and more graphical, screen readers struggle to interpret the screen properly, if at all. An image file of a building, for instance, has no data within itself to pass on to JAWS. "Hi, I'm a 50-story building. I am made out of mostly glass and gray stone. I'm facing east, with the rising sun giving all my glass a sparkling look. There are some high clouds, so the sky you see above me is a powdery blue."

Really? Anyway, graphics make things very tricky sometimes. The banners many blogs (and many web sites) display are not necessarily graphical (although they might be), but because they are moving (constantly changing), screen reading software is confused, as it tries to read the changing text, instead of other text I may be interested in reading. If the banner or scrolling displays are turned off, or don't exist, then my screen reader has a much easier time navigating and reading the page.

I hope this helps some understand the basics of using a screen reader!

Q: ...our disabilities are not limitations, but windows to new avenues in our lives. In my case, and I'm assuming in yours, our writing.

A: I am fairly confident I wouldn't be an author had I not lost my sight 24 years ago. I was 33 then, and working as a project manager for a construction company. I had a degree in technical illustration, and was a very "visual" person. It took some time after losing my sight, but when a window to write in fact opened, I did enter in and am glad I did!

Q: I also find it inspiring that you continue to enjoy the outdoors and would like to ask you about that.

A: Actually, my love of, and participation in the outdoors has lessened since losing my sight. I have years of memories of hunting and fishing, of hiking, of camping, and canoeing. I also did some skiing, I loved to play ice hockey on the ponds and lakes in the winter, and I loved playing church softball. I have tons of memories, and it's these memories more than any present day participation I interject into my stories.

Q: You know, I considered writing only after so many other avenues in my life where shut down, closed or pulled out from under me. I know I mourned over those things I lost. Did you go through a type of mourning, too?

A: I can't say I experienced a clearly defined period of mourning. Interestingly, now that I've been blind for about 24 years, I find I have "down" moments when I experience a kind of mourning. If you can call frustration and a little anger, mourning. I also tried a number of career avenues after the job I landed in after graduating college (as a blind person) was eliminated. This was in 2000. I initially sent out some resumes for non-profit organizations looking for a program director (my previous position) but soon gave up on that. I tried everything from web site design/maintenance, to becoming a certified nutritionist, to going back to college to begin masters working marriage and family counseling. But, writing eventually became something I quickly developed an interest in, and as they say, the rest is history!

Q: So, I hope I'm not spoiling anything from "The Attache", do you think the cable up the mountain is feasible? I mean it sounded totally possible to me, except that maybe if the mountain is public land there might be issues there. Obviously an author must pretend those political challenges don't exist.

A: Zach Brenner (the blinded male protagonist) inherited 300 acres, on which the mountain was located. So, it was not public land. I am fairly mechanically minded, and I "invented" the cable system based on what I considered a feasible concept. From a mechanical point of view. Because in reality, it really wasn't practical. But when Zach first thinks up the system, yes, it was entirely plausible IMO. Not that there wasn't any other way, but the cable system is what he thought up. FYI, in book 3 (Out Of The Desert), Zach's brother, Joel, returns to the Rocky Glen homestead, and, without giving too much away, Joel will end up with some of the 300 acres. You'll have to read the novel to see what he wants to do with it!

Q: Since you brought it up... Book 3. How many books are you planning in this series?


A: I've got 2 3-book contracts with DBP. Two trilogies, to put it another way. The Attaché was book 1 in the series entitled, 'All Things Are Possible,' and A Time To Build is book 1 in the series entitled, 'A Time For Everything' series. I hope to have my web site updated shortly where visitors can read more about these books/series, as well as see the cover art for both book 1's.

http://www.authordavidbond.com/newest.php

Q: Can you give us a blurb for 'A Time to Build'?

The short blurb which may appear on the Desert Breeze page follows:

Thirteen years is a long time. But not long enough for Brian Marshall to forget the face of the woman who stepped inside his office one July morning. Has the one mistake he made in his life finally come back to exact its toll?

Q: Can you share a link to your website?

http://www.authordavidbond.com/

Launching Mysterious Mondays

A Legacy of Lies with Stephanie McGee.

It was cold.

Too cold.

The eerie silence of a moonless, starless night engulfed him.

Jim shivered. It had been high noon only a few minutes ago. Had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember being tired. He shook his head and tried to focus his groggy mind. He peered around cautiously. Where was his horse?

A rustling sound in the bushes startled him. His eyes darted to investigate. Nothing.

No, wait. There it was again. Off to the left. His eyes strained, searching for the slightest movement or shape. Something. Anything.

Silence.

He felt like a kid afraid of the dark.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

Fingers of fear teased along the back of his neck. The hairs stood on end. He shivered.

Where was that horse?

"Ciervo!" His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. He tried again. Now he was completely hoarse.

Swallowing the panic rising from the pit of his stomach, he took a cautious step forward.

He heard stirring in the woods behind him. Squirrels? He listened intently.

The noise came again. No. Definitely not a squirrel. Something was pacing in the woods. Deliberate. Stalking. Jim's mouth went dry.

Mountain lion.

His heart raced and he looked desperately around, scanning the darkness. Blackness blanketed the meadow. Jim hoped Ciervo hadn't wandered too far. He started to walk. Slowly. Calculating. He couldn't tell in what direction he moved.

His cell! He could use it as a light source. Jim's hand brushed at his hip. It wasn't there. He frowned. It always stayed on his belt. He never left the ranch without it.

Jim's eyes strained, but he could barely make out his surroundings. The farther he walked, the darker it got. His breathing came in quick, rapid intakes.

A shrill sound broke the silence. His heart leaped.

"Ciervo?"

Where was he? Was the mountain lion after him?

Hoof beats. Thank goodness.

They were pounding quicker than his rapidly drumming heart. A shadow appeared about thirty feet in front of him.

It wasn't his beloved horse. It looked like something galloping up from Hell.

The horrid creature ran wildly toward him. The cold air caused the hot breath to billow from its nostrils like a smoking dragon.

The monster's eyes looked like no earthly thing he had ever seen. The bulging orbs had a luminescent shine that came from deep behind the pupils. In the pitch black they glowed like a ghostly beacon.

The horse-shaped beast lowered his head. The creature was preparing to slam into him.

Jim threw himself out of its path and landed sharply on his hip. His right thigh slammed into a large, extruded boulder. Fire shot down his leg. Ignoring the pain, he jumped to his feet, eyes probing the darkness for the crazed brute. The ghostly version of Ciervo had vanished.

Despite the cold, he began to sweat. Jim felt eyes boring into him. Someone or something watched him. He was exposed. Unprepared. His heart hammered in his chest. His body refused to move.

Another sound. Different. It wasn't rustling limbs or bushes, and it certainly wasn't the horse's wild hoof beats. It was quiet, like a soft whisper. Crying? No, calling out for something.

He strained to catch the garbled words. The voice grew louder. More urgent. Still he couldn't make out the woeful tone. Then, as if his brain finished translating some cryptic code, the word became clear.

"James!"

Again. Louder this time. "James... James..." The voice rose and fell in the darkness. Its eerie sound slithered into his ears.

"Hello?" His voice echoed hoarsely. He held onto a feeble hope the voice came from someone nearby lost in the dark along with him. No one here knew him by that name. He stood holding his breath, listening.

Suddenly, a freight train of frigid air knocked him backward. Terrified, he dared not to move. The voice came again.

"You must help. Soon it will be too late--"

An insidious roar erupted around him. Hot, musty breath bathed Jim's face. He struggled backward. He couldn't quite make out the figure standing over him. The silhouette was enormous. Its shoulders spanned at least four feet. An odd-shaped head swayed from side-to side.

It growled.

Paralyzed with fear, Jim lay helpless. The creature rose to stand upright. Seven. Eight feet tall. Jim gasped for air. His feet tore into the soft ground, trying to gain footing. Desperately trying to get away.

The creature came crashing toward him.


Buy links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/A-Legacy-of-Lies-ebook/dp/B007K1LS58/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1332042156&sr=8-1

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-legacy-of-lies-stephenia-mcgee/1107713261?ean=2940014338950

Desert Breeze Publishing: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-273/A-Legacy-of-Lies/Detail.bok

Never Without Hope - Sizzling Kiss

Excerpt used by permisssion of Author, Michelle Sutton
http://edgyinspirationalauthor.blogspot.com/

“I love you.” he whispered, then touched my cheek.

Opening my eyes, I took in the warm, inviting expression on his face. For once I didn’t cry at the sound of those precious words. “I love you, too.”

James lowered his lips to mine, and though he didn’t linger, I thought I’d die from the joy flooding my soul. His kiss contained strength and desire. And I’d needed hope—to know he still longed for me, too. I nodded at the bags on my lap. “Thank you—for everything.”

James nodded, a sly grin forming on his lips, like he was pleased with himself.



You can buy Never Without Hope HERE http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/098258704X?ie=UTF8&tag=httpwwwgoodco-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=098258704X&SubscriptionId=1MGPYB6YW3HWK55XCGG2