Showing posts with label CLP Blog Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CLP Blog Tours. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Featured Author: Tammy L. Grace

Tammy L. Grace is on tour with CLP Blog Tours for her women's fiction novel, Finding Home: A Hometown Harbor Novel. I'm happy to share my interview with her and an excerpt from the book.

About the book:

Finding Home is a coming of age novel, but for a middle-aged woman devastated by past heartaches and loss, who flees to a small island expecting a change of scenery and discovers much more.

Shattered by her husband's infidelities after twenty-five years of marriage, Sam Collins is plagued by constant fear and loneliness, reliving the tragic death of her parents and the betrayal by the man she loved. She leaves Seattle seeking relief from the relentless darkness that has swallowed her. With only her dog for companionship, she sets out to live in her vacation home on San Juan Island.



In her search for a carpenter, she meets the handsome and very available, Jeff Cooper.  Sam's not looking for romance, but can't deny the attraction to the retired firefighter, turned handyman. While working together and eating her pies, Jeff finds himself falling for her.



The past she wrestles to let go of comes hurtling back when she least expects it. In an effort to help a struggling young man, she is forced to confront the anguish she is desperate to escape. While torn between love and friendship, she must face her fears and choose between the life she's known and a chance for a family and home she's been longing for all her life.

Interview with Tammy Grace

How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

I found I enjoyed writing in middle school and started writing articles for the local newspaper throughout junior high. Life moved on and while involved in my career, I was in a class and asked to think about what I would truly enjoy doing if I could do anything.  It didn’t take me long to blurt out “write novels.”  So when I retired almost two years ago, I decided to make it a reality.

What’s the story behind the title Finding Home?

Naming a book is difficult. The story is about a woman (Sam) who has to start over and is searching for a place (home, life, family). I like short titles, so brainstormed a number of single words that described the book, once it was done. I came up with a whole page of words and liked the sound and feel of Finding Home.

It’s the first book in the series; the second was released in April and is titled Home Blooms. I like the idea of a common thread in the titles used for a series, so I am including the word “home” in all of them.

How do you get to know your characters?

I conduct interviews with my characters and also write down their physical attributes. I keep a list of characteristics of each and it’s something I’ve found useful, since I sometimes forget how old someone is or the color of a character’s eyes. I also tend to “cast” my characters and keep that image in my head.

Which character did you most enjoy writing?

I enjoyed writing Sam the most. She’s a woman who appears to have it all, but is left hollow inside from losing her parents at a young age and the betrayal of her husband.  She’s wealthy and accomplished, but suffering. I enjoyed describing her journey and allowing some of her flaws to be exposed, while dealing her a couple more blows to test her resolve.

She is strong and capable, but finds herself in a situation where her vulnerabilities are apparent and she has to learn the power of trust and forgiveness.

Are any of your characters inspired by real people?

Yes. Zoe is the faithful golden retriever of my main character, Sam. Zoe is actually my golden retriever. She is portrayed as she is in real life—-a wonderful friend and companion.

Are you like any of your characters?

I think there are bits of me in some of the characters, most notably, Sam. I can be a perfectionist; I love making lists, and am very organized. I enjoy baking and used my own favorite recipes when I described many of the pies she made. I also have a weakness for ice cream, especially Rocky Road.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.


My favorite scene is in Chapter Eighteen of Finding Home. Sam and Jeff go on a kayaking trip and spend the day together. Sam’s finally beginning to let Jeff into her life.

Who are your favorite authors? 

I love to read and usually read hundreds of books a year, but I’ll narrow it down to the few I snap up as soon as they release a new title. Lee Child and David Baldacci are two I can’t live without. I also enjoy Kristin Hannah, Maeve Binchy, and Nicholas Sparks.

What book are you currently reading and in what format (e-book/paperback/hardcover)?

I’m reading The Target, by David Baldacci in an e-book format (first eight chapters) and Blossom Street Brides, by Debbie Macomber in hardback.

Where and when do you prefer to do your writing?

I’m a morning person, so tend to do most of my writing in the morning. I have an office in my home and that’s where I write. I usually listen to iHeartRadio while I’m tapping away on my keyboard. For editing, I like to print out the material and usually sit in a comfy recliner armed with colored Sharpie markers.

Where’s home for you?

I live in my hometown in rural northern Nevada.

Neil Gaiman said, “Picking five favorite books is like picking five body parts you'd most like not to lose.” So…what are your five favorite books and your five body parts you’d most like not to lose?

It’s hard to choose, but here are five of my top favorites:
Little Women, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Chronicles of Narnia, Les Miserables, The Bible
And, for body parts: brain, heart, eyes, limbs, skin (but I’d prefer to keep all of them).

You’re leaving your country for a year. What’s the last meal (or food) you would want to have before leaving?

A bacon cheeseburger and ice cream for dessert.

Would you rather work in a library or a bookstore?

A library.

Where is your favorite library, and what do you love about it?

I love libraries. My friends have teased me for years about going on vacation and ending up in a library. If I had to pick one, I’d pick the New York Public Library. I love the architecture and feeling of history. It’s a gorgeous building, and if I lived there, I’d spend all my free time visiting.

You’re given the day off, and you can do anything but write. What would you do?

Bake and read.

You and I would get along famously! Why did you decide to self-publish?

I self-published Finding Home, after months of research and an initial desire to be published by a traditional publisher. I attended a conference last fall and learned as much as I could about both methods, and after my own research and talking with other authors, I decided self-publishing was a good fit for me. It gives the author all the control (and all of the responsibility).  I’m not very patient and with the traditional route, patience is a must. All in all, it was a good experience, and I’m excited to do it again. Working with Amazon has been very easy, and I would recommend their publishing solutions.

What’s your favorite candy bar?

Wow, I love chocolate so this is hard. I’d have to pick the Milky Way Midnight.

What three books have you read recently and would recommend?

A Week in Winter
, by Maeve Binchy; The Hit, by David Baldacci, and Girl Missing, by Tess Gerritsen.

What are you working on now?

I’m working on a detective novel set in Nashville and also the third book in the Hometown Harbor series.


Excerpt from Finding Home

“How long were you married?”

“Twenty-five years, last summer. We were married after graduation. He finished law school and I got my MBA and ran the company. We lived in my parents’ home.”

“I hope he didn’t take advantage of you in the divorce, with him being a lawyer. I don’t trust lawyers much,” said the woman, with distaste.

“No. Actually, when we were married Marty made sure the company and the house would always be mine. He wanted my grandparents to know he wasn’t looking for money. My parents were very successful.”  She paused. “I still can’t believe I’m here now. I thought things were fine, but I found out he’d been cheating on me...for years. I’m just glad my grandparents are gone, so they didn’t have to witness Marty’s betrayal. They would have been devastated.”

The woman’s eyes widened, “That’s a dreadful surprise.”

“Yes, it was. I’ve always been a workaholic and had worked to expand the company, opening offices around the world. I received an offer for it, and after talking with Marty, decided to sell. He seemed so excited about the prospect of an early retirement. We were both approaching fifty and would have the means to work less and play more,” smiled Sam.

The woman smiled back. “I think you’re a strong and capable woman. You can still have fun and start your new adventure.”

“That’s what I finally decided. I need to get away from the constant reminders and start fresh. I spent summers here as a child and since I have a lovely home here, it made sense.”

The woman rubbed her hands together and pulled her coat closer. “I wish you the best and I hope you find everything you’re looking for. I’m afraid I’ve got to move inside out of the cold.”  She stopped to pet Zoe and turned to go through the deck doors.

“Have a wonderful visit with your family. Thanks for chatting with me.”  Sam waved as the woman toddled away.

Sam laughed to herself. She hadn’t wanted to engage in conversation, but in truth it had helped her to talk about it. The smooth motion of the ferry was soothing and the slowness generated more memories. She smiled thinking of the family house with its Italian inspired villa-like architecture. Her mother and father had purchased it after their business success and it had been a substitute for them after they died.

She felt herself growing weepy thinking she was leaving the only home she had known. Lately though, it hadn’t seemed like home and wasn’t offering her the comfort it once had, which was why Sam found herself on a ferry today, resolved to start a new life. Sam didn’t sell the house in Shoreline; she wanted to have the security of being able to go back to it. But for now, the pain of realizing her family home had been a love nest for Marty’s trysts left her hurt and angry.

The sun was still peeking through the clouds as the ferry crawled towards Friday Harbor. She gave Zoe a drink from a bottle of water, dug a treat from her pocket, and the dog settled in to nap for the rest of the ride. Sam mulled over the past, not believing her life could be so different than she had planned.

Sam had traveled the world for business, without Marty. She was the consummate professional, accomplished and capable. She never relied on him, but as she inched toward the island it all seemed overwhelming and she thought she might have made a huge mistake. She knew she could never forget his infidelities, but maybe she should have stayed in her own house and made the best of it. It was all too confusing and Sam had never been so unsure. Her usual confidence and self-esteem had been eaten away during the past year. The absence of her parents had left a deep scar in Sam’s heart and she missed them more than ever today. She longed to hear her mom reassure her and feel her dad’s strong hug.

European river cruises, white sand beaches, Australian adventures, and castles of Ireland that once beckoned from the brochures on her nightstand, were now only dreams that had been torn apart by the man she had loved and trusted. Instead of exotic travel, her future held a quaint island where she hoped the fond recollections of the past would wrap around her like a cozy blanket.

For almost a year she had been suffering and plunging deeper into her own dark thoughts. She had lost over twenty pounds and forced herself to eat, when she remembered. She knew she needed something fresh to focus on and the prospect of a new business venture and warm memories drew her to Friday Harbor.

Her musings were interrupted when the ferry captain made the announcement to instruct passengers to report back to their vehicles for arrival in Friday Harbor. "That's us, Zoe. Let's go," Sam said, as she took hold of Zoe's leash and headed downstairs.

As she guided Zoe between the narrow vehicle paths, she spotted the vivid green sticker proclaiming her golden retriever was smarter than any fifth grader. She reached the SUV, loaded Zoe, and after squeezing through the sliver of space the door allowed without smacking the car next to her, rested in the driver’s seat. Cars around her were starting and her lane began to creep forward, exiting the ferry.

As the metal planks of the ferry apron thumped under the weight of her car, she admired the charming shops and buildings neighboring the harbor, looking as if washed in colors from a box of artist pastels. She glanced up at a sign posted on the corner. It read, Welcome to Friday Harbor—Your Hometown Harbor. She could only hope it would prove true.
"Well, girl, here we go. Let's go see our new house and get settled," Sam said, as she drove off the landing onto Front Street, determined not to let the weight of lost dreams crush her.

About the author:

Born and raised in Nevada, Tammy L. Grace loved reading at a young age. With the help of her middle school teacher, she discovered the joy of writing. After spending a career in local and state government service, she retired and finally has the time to dedicate to writing. 

When Tammy isn't working on ideas for a novel, she's spending time with family and friends or supporting her addiction to books and chocolate. She and her husband have one grown son and a spoiled golden retriever.

Connect with Tammy:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon



Monday, April 21, 2014

Featured Author: Savannah Page

Savannah Page is on tour with CLP Blog Tours and she's stopping here today to talk about her chick lit novel, When Girlfriends Take Chances. Don't miss the Rafflecopter at the end of the post--enter for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card.


About the book


A novel about exploring love and life's path, and taking chances along the way.

Emily Saunders has never thought twice about grabbing her passport, rucksack, and camera and trekking across the globe. If there's an NGO, a study abroad program, or simply the travel itch, Emily's on the first plane out. Free-spirited, open-minded, and eager to explore, it's no wonder Emily's hardly in one spot (or relationship) for long.



For the past year and a half, though, Emily's found herself planted in her college hometown of Seattle. She's surrounded by her best friends, has steady work as a photographer and at her friend Sophie's café, and is certainly kept busy by the wild antics of her BFF Jackie. Life's enjoyable, but Emily's looking for something more. She's ready for a change, for adventure!



But when Emily tells her girlfriends she's ready for something new she does not expect Operation Blind Date!



Sure, Emily's single. Sure, she hopes to some day find true love. But being thrown into an insane challenge like this is not exactly the adventure she had in mind! Couldn't she just travel and focus on her photography? Or volunteer in Africa? Will a string of eligible bachelors lined up by her friends--a shot at finding a real and lasting love--really be that change she's searching for?



This is a spirited story about seeking adventure while being true to yourself, wherever you are in life. It's a story about love, risk, and self-discovery. About what happens when girlfriends take chances.

Other Books by Savannah Page

When Girlfriends Let Go
When Girlfriends Chase Dreams
When Girlfriends Make Choices
When Girlfriends Step Up (On SALE 99 cents!)
When Girlfriends Break Hearts
When Girlfriends Collection, Books 1-3 (On SALE 99 cents!)

Interview with Savannah Page

Savannah, you have a long list of books to your credit. How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

I started filling up notebooks with shorts stories at the age of six, and I haven’t stopped writing since.

Do you have another job outside of writing?

I consider writing to be my full-time profession. In addition to being an author, I blog and manage the social media marketing for a wedding and event florist back in my college hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. So when I’m not writing novels I’m writing about wedding flowers and trends and design. I can’t think of two better gigs!

Pretty sweet gigs. How did you create the plot for this book?

Emily is my most whimsical and well-traveled character so there were a lot of directions I could have taken her story. I knew right away that I wanted to keep her in Seattle longer than she had planned, thereby making her antsy and unable to avoid some fun plot twists and episodes that I had in mind for her. Her story is about taking chances...and that doesn’t just mean strapping on a backpack, grabbing a passport, and heading overseas for an adventure. Sometimes grand adventures are right in your own backyard (and can involve the heart).

Tell us a book by an indie author for which you’re an evangelist.

I really enjoy Rachel Schurig’s chick lits. She’s a great author, her stories are fun and entertaining, and on top of that she’s a real sweetheart. She helped me out quite a bit in the early stages of my self-publishing journey, encouraging me to start my When Girlfriends series and crank out one novel after another. She’s one of my biggest inspirations as a fellow chick lit indie author.

How do you get to know your characters?

I spend a lot of time acting out scenes in my apartment. To the outsider (and probably neighbors when the windows are open), I look like a crazy person. Or perhaps a practicing actress. I have to really act as my characters, say their lines, make their gestures, and even figure out how they’d react to a particular issue in the news to understand who they are. My editor has a great and easy tip for helping define characters’ voices: Ask, Who would they vote for/how would they vote on an issue, and why.

Which character did you most enjoy writing?

She’s my damaged and most controversial character, Jackie. She has a very strong voice and personality and writing her is a blast. Sometimes she does things that shock me and give me a headache, but that’s one of the reasons I love her. She’s alive! She elicits emotion.

Sophie holds a special place in my heart with her OCDness and controlling personality, plus she was the girlfriend who got the first book (When Girlfriends Break Hearts) and will also get the last (her second book, When Girlfriends Find Love, out May 2014). But Emily, the protagonist of When Girlfriends Take Chances, is caring, daring, open-minded, and fun. I really enjoyed getting to write her story and voice.

Are any of your characters inspired by real people?

As I move on from my seven-book When Girlfriends collection and on to a new series, I’ve learned that I always write a novel with some real personal or life event in mind. I need that tangible inspiration and experience to really feel a work. For WG I took my own group of college girlfriends into account, thinking about the fascinating idea that an eclectic group of women could be such great friends, and that time and distance could wedge their ways in, but our friendship remains strong. From there the entire WG collection took off.

With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck in a bookstore?


Emily. She belongs to a book club, like myself, and has a similar taste in reads. We both love travel narratives, memoirs, and a good adventure story. Although, she’s not much a fan of Jane Austen so we could have a bit of a bickering session there.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.

Writing the scenes with Emily and Ben were fun because Ben’s attractive, a little mysterious, a bit of trouble. Those kinds of emotional or edge-of-the-seat scenes with such characters are fun to write and read. But the last chapter is one of my favorites!

What book are you currently reading and in what format (ebook/paperback/hardcover)?

I always have a number of books I’m reading at one time, and in different formats. Right now my paperbacks are Candace Bushnell’s Trading Up and Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s. In ebook format I recently finished Maria Semple’s Where’d You Go, Bernadette and loved it!

Where’s home for you?

I may enjoy travel like Emily, but home is not wherever I hang my hat. Home is Berlin in our cozy apartment in the centre of the city. I love long getaways, but luckily home is an adopted city I absolutely love, so I never feel like, “Drats! Vacation’s over and we’re back home.” Of course, as soon as I step foot in California or get some tasty Mexican food or go to a Target, I’m also home!

Neil Gaiman said, “Picking five favorite books is like picking five body parts you'd most like not to lose.” So…what are your five favorite books and your five body parts you’d most like not to lose?

Haha! Books: 1) My entire Emily Giffin collection. She gets her own shelf and I’d die without her books. 2) My Gossip Girl collection. 3) My Harry Potter collection. 4) My Sophie Kinsella collection. 5) And since I’ve so been cheating with these collections, I’d like to say my F. Scott Fitzgerald collection as number five, but if just one, it’d be the one and only The Great Gatsby

Body Parts: 1) Eyes. I had a serious vision scare and surgery a few years ago. My eyes are my most prized possession! 2) Hands. (Because writing—and doing just about anything else—without them would be a major challenge.) 3) I suppose all of my vital organs. 4) And my brain. 5) And feet come in handy when wanting to run around...

You’re leaving your country for a year. What’s the last meal (or food) you would want to have before leaving?

I left the US for a permanent move to Germany in 2010 and had both In-N-Out and a feast of Mexican food that week before I left.

Where is your favorite library, and what do you love about it?

I loved my university’s library (The University of Tulsa), McFarlin Library. It’s large and beautiful and has so many little alcoves where you can read and study in peace. It holds a lot of college memories for me, too.

You’re given the day off, and you can do anything but write. What would you do?

Read, shop, and go for a drive.

What would your dream office look like?


Just as it is! I have a lovely little office in my apartment with everything I need, including a nice, big window that lets in a lot of natural light.

Are you happy with your decision to self-publish?

Absolutely! In addition to becoming self-employed with my blogging business, choosing to self-publish my first book and not look back has been the best career move I could imagine!

What steps to self-publication did you personally do, and what did you hire someone to do? Is there anyone you’d recommend for a particular service?

Every writer needs an editor. You can be the best speller, the know-it-all grammarian, or the top of your English graduating class at university, but you’ll still benefit from an editor’s extra set of eyes and skills. I use Invisible Ink Editing and am so happy with the work they do. They practice attention-to-detail while maintaining my voice with all of their edits.

I also recommend indie authors hire someone to do their cover art. Unless you’re a graphic artist, I would outsource this. As I tell my husband (my cover artist), “I’m an author. Give me a pencil and I’ll write you a story. Don’t ask for me to draw you anything.” Many people judge books by their covers, period, and while a book’s content may be the next best thing since sliced bread, if it has a very amateur cover on it, unfortunately many readers may pass it by, thinking the content will also lack in professionalism and promise. Don’t let your cover turn potential readers away! There are plenty of indie book cover artists, like indie editors, formatters, and proofreaders, who are affordable and produce fabulous work. Your novel is an investment and your baby, so give it some love!

As for formatting, that can be tricky work. But if you’re patient and learn the steps, you can save some cash and do this yourself. (Again, there are others in the indie community, such as editors who offer this as an extra service, who can be an affordable and easy option.) I choose to do this myself. I invested a good 15+ hours to learn the ins and outs of Scrivener (only the best writing software that I’d be lost without) and in a flash can format any ebook and paperback.

I love Scrivener too! What’s your favorite candy bar? And don’t tell me you don’t have one!

Spiced jelly beans and circus peanuts. Yes, two very weird but delicious candies.
 
What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I can’t read enough books or watch enough television. I enjoy Pilates, crocheting, gardening, shopping (from groceries to shoes), listening to Rick Steves podcasts, pinning wedding flowers on Pinterest, and café-frequenting.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Right now I love living in Berlin, but NYC, or on a sailboat in Florida, or Santa Barbara, California would be nice, too.

What are you working on now?

I’m working on releasing the seventh and final When Girlfriends novel. I’m also working on two new series, both chick lit and women’s fiction, which I plan on publishing this year.


Excerpt from When Girlfriends Take Chances

“That’s a fantastic idea!” Jackie blurts out.

“How come I didn’t think of that?” Sophie says.

“That’s not a bad idea, Claire,” Robin says with a nod.

“Perrrrrfect,” Claire sings, returning to her position on the floor by the coffee table. “Such a superbly perfect idea.” She claps her hands together several times. “What do you think, Emily? Brilliant idea, right?”

There are two words that incite major worry and panic, even in someone like me who’s as open to dating, well, just about anyone. One is “blind” and the other is—you guessed it—“date.” God help me.

We’re not just talking a blind date, but several—hear me, plural—blind dates.

“Think about it,” Sophie says, abandoning her wine, her eyes going all star-gazey. “You could meet all sorts of guys. You could dispense with the annoying and time-wasting ‘nice to meet you’ stuff.”

“Yeah!” Jackie cuts in. “Like you wouldn’t have to waste your time on meeting someone and striking up that first conversation that would lead to a date. It’s just, BAM, a date!”
BAM is right.

All right, I’m single, and I have been for a while. And, sure, it’d be nice to find someone I could really connect with and, yeah, fall in love with. But easier said than done. I mean, if I’m going to find someone I can be really and truly serious with then they’ll have to keep up with me, so to speak. I’m not a let’s-get-a-mortgage or even a let’s-have-a-career kind of woman. My lifestyle isn’t exactly what men who are looking for a serious and lasting relationship go for.

Besides, I’m not so hard-up for a date or budding romance that I need to sign on for a round of blind dates—a series of awkward meet-and-greets, an exchange of interests and goals and accomplishments, that unavoidable question about a second date, that unavoidable expectation come the third or fourth date. My mouth suddenly feels dry. I reach for my wine and take a heavy slog.

“I think this is brilliant,” Claire says. She crosses her arms, looking extremely pleased with herself. “This is revolutionary!”

“No,” Lara finally pipes in.

Oh, thank you for coming to my rescue, finally, Lara! I think, still draining my wine.
“It’s not quite revolutionary…yet.” A sly smirk is playing Lara’s lips. “We’re missing something that’ll revolutionize the blind dating experience.”

“I know!” I toss out. All eyes simultaneously turn to me. “I know what would revolutionize this experience.”

“Yeah?” Jackie asks eagerly.

“Totally...” I drag out. “...not...doing...it!” I smile brightly. “Brilliant way to revolutionize blind dating, right? Do away with the whole buggy thing.”

“Oh, whatever,” Claire scoffs. “Don’t be a sourpuss. We’re doing this, Emily. It will be amazing, just you wait.”

About the author:


Savannah Page is the author of the continuing When Girlfriends collection, heartfelt women's fiction that celebrates friendship, love, and life sprinkled with drama and humor. When she isn’t writing, Savannah enjoys a good book with a latte and jazz tunes, Pilates, and exploring her home of Berlin as an American expat. Currently she's working on the seventh and final When Girlfriends novel, and is cooking up something delicious for her next series.




Connect with Savannah:

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Buy the book:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo 


Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Featured Author: Traci Andrighetti

I'm happy to have Traci Andrighetti back today as part of her tour with CLP Blog Tours. She was here in February for an interview, and she's returned today to share an excerpt from Limoncello Yellow. Want to win a $35 Amazon gift card? Keep scrolling to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway.



About the book:

From debut author, Traci Andrighetti, comes a tale of murder, mayhem, and meddling Sicilian grandmas... 

Francesca "Franki" Amato is a tough-talking rookie cop in Austin, Texas—until an unfortunate 911 call involving her boyfriend, Vince, and a German female wrestler convinces her once and for all that she just isn't cut out for a life on the police force. So Franki makes the snap decision to move to New Orleans to work at her friend Veronica's detective agency, Private Chicks, Inc. But Franki's hopes for a more stable life are soon dashed when Private Chicks is hired by the prime suspect in a murder case to find out what really happened to a beautiful young boutique manager who was found strangled to death with a cheap yellow scarf. When she's not investigating, Franki is hoping to seduce handsome bank executive Bradley Hartmann, but most of her time is spent dodging date offers from a string of "good Italian boys"—make that not-so-good aging Italian men—that her meddlesome Sicilian grandma has recruited as marriage candidates. As Mardi Gras approaches and the mystery of the murdered shop girl gets more complicated, Franki must decipher the odd ramblings of a Voodoo priestess to solve both the murder and the mystery of her own love life.

Excerpt from Limoncello Yellow

I parked in front of my new home. Before I could get out of the car, Veronica was already walking out her front door, smiling and waving with Hercules in tow in a turquoise fuzzy sweater that matched hers perfectly. Despite her Sicilian father, Veronica looked Swedish like her ex-ballerina mother, with long blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes, and pale skin.  
    
"Franki!" Veronica yelled.

I bent over—at the waist—to hug her. I'd forgotten how tiny she was, and I wondered for at least the hundredth time how her internal organs could function in such a small frame.
She looked up at me and smiled. "How does it feel to be in New Orleans?"
I glanced over at the cemetery and then back at her. "At the moment, it feels fairly morbid."

"Oh, come on! You don't still have that weird cemetery issue, do you?"

"Yes, Veronica. And I can't believe you didn't tell me that there's one right across the street! You know, lots of people would find it disturbing to go to sleep at night with a cemetery basically in their front yard, especially a New Orleans cemetery."

Veronica shook her head in mock disgust as she grabbed a box from my back seat.

"Thank God there's a bar right next to it," I continued. "In case I need to drink myself to death from despair."

She smiled. "Well, if you do drink yourself to death, I wouldn't have to carry you very far for your burial."

I quickly made the customary scongiuri gesture that my nonna had taught me to do to ward off the threat of death, which Veronica had just so carelessly cast upon me. It looks like the University of Texas's hook 'em horns sign with the index and pinky fingers pointed up like horns, only you point the horns downward.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Do you still do that silly scongiuri thing too? God, Franki, you make me so glad my nonna stayed in Sicily. You're so superstitious!"

"I do it just in case," I snapped. "I mean, you never know..."

Veronica walked up to my new front door, which was right next to hers, and pulled a key from the front right pocket of her AG jeans. "Glenda—our landlady—told me to let you in. She'll come downstairs to meet you in a few minutes."

With the box balanced on her left hip, Veronica unlocked my front door with her right hand. She gave the door a shove with her shoulder, and it swung open. She turned to me and bowed. "Welcome to your humble abode."

I excitedly entered the apartment with Napoleon at my heels. As I surveyed the living room, a number of adjectives came to mind, but humble was not one of them. The room could only be described as the home decor equivalent of Amsterdam's Red Light District. The walls were covered in fuzzy, blood-red wallpaper with shiny gold fleurs-de-lis, and hanging from the ceiling was a baroque red-and-black crystal chandelier. The couch was a rococo chaise lounge in velvet zebra print, and next to it was a lilac velour armchair with gold fringe that matched the drapery to perfection. On the opposite wall there was a mahogany wood fireplace with a hearth covered in white candles of various sizes and shapes. In front of the fireplace, a bearskin rug replete with a bear head covered the hardwood floors. The only thing that was missing was the red fluorescent light in the living room window announcing my availability for prospective clients.

I realized that my mouth was hanging open. "Wow. So...this Glenda...is she a prostitute?" I joked.

"Former stripper, actually," Veronica replied. "And she's really touchy about the difference, so don't use the word prostitute in front of her."

I gaped at my best friend. "You're serious?"

Veronica just blinked innocently, as if renting me an apartment from a former stripper across from a cemetery were perfectly normal. "You know, I was reading that the brothel look is really in right now. I believe it's called 'bordello chic.'" She began to pace back and forth as she tried to reconcile her unusually conflicted sense of fashion. "But now that I think about it, Lenny Kravitz redecorated his house here in New Orleans, and designers call his style 'bordello modern.'"

"Something tells me that Lenny didn't decorate this place. And I wouldn't exactly call this 'bordello modern.' It's more like 'bordello seventies.'"

"Well, at least you won't have to add any touches of color," Veronica said.

About the author:


Traci Andrighetti is the author of the Franki Amato mystery series. In her previous life, she was an award-winning literary translator and a lecturer of Italian at the University of Texas at Austin, where she earned a PhD in Applied Linguistics. But then she got wise and ditched that academic stuff for a life of crime—-writing, that is.

If she's not hard at work on her next novel, Traci is probably watching her favorite Italian soap opera, eating Tex Mex, or sampling fruity cocktails, and maybe all at the same time. She lives in Austin with her husband, young son (who desperately wants to be in one of her books), and three treat-addicted dogs.



Connect with Traci:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Buy the book:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Smashwords

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Featured Author: Susan Allison-Dean

Susan Allison-Dean is on tour with CLP Blog Tours, and she's here today to talk about her contemporary women's novel, I Know You're There. Keep reading for an excerpt of the book and a rafflecopter giveaway for a $35 Amazon gift card.


About the book:

Jill Bradley is a twenty-four-year-old nurse whose life is going great; she has established herself in her new career and she’s looking forward to getting engaged to her high school sweetheart. But faced with a watershed moment, she has to deal with simultaneous family tragedy, injury, and betrayal, and feels it’s way too much to cope with. In a moment of despair, Jill books a trip to a Caribbean island in an effort to escape. While she finds respite and romance, her problems have also packed their own suitcase.

Helen Bradley, Jill’s mother dedicated her entire life to her family like many mothers in the 1970’s and 80’s. Despite her best efforts, however, she hasn’t always been able to be the type of mother she wished she could be. She has a secret she was hoping would just go away, but it won’t. If she doesn’t share it with Jill it might bring her daughter more harm.

I Know You’re There is a mother-daughter journey, celebrating the highs and delving into the lows of family life. Can the power of love heal all things?

Interview with Susan Allison-Dean

Susan, how did you create the plot for this book?

From personal experience as a nurse and observation of nurses, I felt a need to share an example of the life experience of a nurse. I wanted to write a book that would hopefully represent the level of dedication nurses exhibit even when their personal lives are in turmoil. I wanted to balance this with the message that as strong as nurses are, they are human too.

Nurses were my target market for this novel. However, since there is such a strong mother-daughter story in it, many non-nurse women of all ages have given me very positive feedback. This has been a very welcome surprise.

Is your book based on real events?

The book is fiction, but there are some real events included.  For example, some of the marine mammal encounters and the ship rescue scene really happened to me while visiting the Caribbean.
What song would you pick to go with your book?
In the book, the protagonist, Jill wakes up hearing repeatedly the chorus to a song she has never heard.  That is how the title came to be, ‘I Know You’re There’.  I would love to see the rest of the song developed and made into its own song for the book.

How do you get to know your characters?

This has been a very exciting phenomenon as a new novelist. I find that my characters reveal themselves and their plights best when I am outside, alone in nature, either walking or gardening. Sometimes in the middle of the night, if I awaken and can’t fall asleep, my imagination will further develop them.

What book are you currently reading and in what format (e-book/paperback/hardcover)?

I am currently reading, The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I bought the hardcover, because the book itself is a work of art.

I don’t claim to be an expert on writing, but there are some writing techniques (or mistakes) that stand out to me when I read (e.g. when an author switches POV mid-scene). What’s one pet peeve you have when you read?

I get frustrated when writers inject a big vocabulary word into their story that doesn’t have enough substance built around the word so the reader can infer what it means. It feels like I am stubbing my toe, when I am flowing with the story and then, ugg, what does that word mean? Perhaps one of the best things about the invention of e-readers is that they help define words quickly.


Do you have a routine for writing?  Where and when do you prefer to do your writing?

Yes, I walk the dog in the morning and return to a place of solitude in my home and write as long as the story wants to flow. This is usually most of the morning. I have a really hard time writing fiction in the afternoon or evening. I write 5 to 6 days a week, I generally always take Sundays off.
 
You’re leaving your country for a year. What’s the last meal (or food) you would want to have before leaving?

Homemade stuffed organic roast chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, yumm, although, that may soon be changing. I am weaning myself over to becoming a vegetarian. I love animals and there are a growing number of health concerns with our meat these days.

Where is your favorite library, and what do you love about it?


The Armonk library in the town I grew up in. It has a room on the end that houses all the magazines and has two-winged backed chairs positioned by a sunny window. It’s the perfect place to sit and peruse for ideas and entertainment in the afternoon.

You’re given the day off, and you can do anything but write. What would you do?

Head for the beach if at all possible.

Why did you decide to self-publish?

I was originally planning on going the traditional publishing route. I even submitted one query to an agent and got a letter of interest back in just one week, which I am told is rare. At that same time, the self-publishing options were growing exponentially.  In the end, I chose to go it on my own for a few reasons.

1. I had a timetable in mind and I didn’t want to delay it another year, two or more if the agent ultimately decided she wanted to represent the book.

2. I have experience in running a business. I was just as excited about the process of publishing and marketing my book as I was about writing it.

3. I needed validation from readers that I didn’t personally know that what I was writing was something others would want to read. Writing is a big time commitment, especially a book. I didn’t want to be like one of those poor American Idol contestants who think they can sing just because the people who love them say they’re good.

Are you happy with your decision to self-publish?

I am happy with my decision to self-publish. It has enabled me to understand in depth the different facets of the publishing business. Like any business, now I know which parts I want to delegate out because either I am not the best person to do that particular task or I don’t enjoy doing it.

Going forward, I have to say, I would be interested in entertaining a traditional or hybrid publishing option. I know now what parts of publishing are worth sharing the fruits of my labor for.

What steps to publication did you personally do, and what did you hire someone to do? Is there anyone you’d recommend for a particular service?

I wrote a blog called "Is it really ‘self’ publishing?" In that blog, I basically talk about how this, in my opinion, is generally a misnomer. It would take a really talented person to write, edit, create a cover, and format his or her own book. I imagine there are some that can, but I certainly am not one of them. There are new tools coming on the market as we speak, however, that may make these steps easier.

I outsourced the graphics to Debra from Tugboat Design. She was amazingly patient and creative. She did my cover, formatting, and web art. My writing coach and editor, Alice Osborn was essential to my success as a writer.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?


"In the end only kindness matters" from the song "Hands" by Jewel. 
I try very hard to remind myself of that.

What’s your favorite candy bar? And don’t tell me you don’t have one!

Are Rolos considered a candy bar? I love the blend of chocolate and caramel! 

What’s your favorite line from a book?

“How can you prepare to have a life without someone whom you have always had in yours?”

What three books have you read recently and would recommend?

Me, Before You by JoJo Moyes. Miss Moyes states in the beginning of the book that she considers it a love story. I would say it’s more a story about the power of choice.  Bravely written.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed. This struck me as a women’s version of Bill Bryson’s, A Walk in the Woods. Wild was not funny like Bryson’s book, but thought provoking and inspiring.

I haven’t read this last one, but I just heard Sue Monk-Kidd speak at a book signing last night. Her new book, The Invention of Wings, is going to the top of my read pile! I love her work.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Anything outdoors--walk, explore, go to the beach. I love to travel, especially to places that haven’t yet manipulated the natural habitat.

What are you working on now?

At present, I am working on a sequel to I Know You’re There. It should be available later this year.

Excerpt from I Know You're There

Chapter 1


Helen
OCTOBER 22, 1995

I woke up screaming, “It’s my fault! Jill, it’s my fault!”

Startled, I sat up and got my bearings. The top half of my white flannel nightgown was drenched in warm sweat that was now starting to cool. The alarm clock glared 12:20 am.
Thank God, I told myself. My daughter, Jill, a nurse at our local hospital had told me she was working a day shift, so she would be home in bed now. In my nightmare, Jill was in a room with two patients who both died at the same time. Frantic, she was screaming at them, “No, no, you can’t die!! No, you have to wake up! They will blame me, they will say it is all my fault!”

Guilt eroded my stomach. Somehow I would need to tell my baby the truth.

About the author:


Sue Allison-Dean is a nurse who retired from traditional practice in 1999, after working 13 years as a Wound, Ostomy, Continence Clinical Nurse Specialist. She found a second career in gardening after working in a garden center and completing an organic gardening internship at Highgrove Garden in England. She now co-owns Naturescapes with her landscape designer husband, Robert. She has authored several clinical and horticulture articles and was a contributing author to the bestselling book, Touched By A Nurse. She is passionate about the sea and loves exploring tropical islands. She extends this passion by doing volunteer work benefiting dolphins and whales. Sue splits her time between Armonk, New York and Cary, North Carolina, with her husband and English bulldog, Bubba.

Connect with Susan:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads 

Buy the book:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble  


Friday, March 7, 2014

Featured Author: Billie Bates

Billie Bates is here today with CLP Blog tours, to talk about her new chick lit novel, Private Air

, and to share an excerpt from the book.

About the book:

When Sienna Harris joined the Air Force as a flight attendant for the Prime Minister, she thought she’d hit the glam-job jackpot. Turns out baby kissing for election tours in Australia equals staying in dodgy towns not worthy of a map dot. Not quite Air Force One.

Lucky for Sienna, her best friend discovers a whole other world of corporate aviation in the Middle East. With the glitz glamour and ridiculous salary, Sienna’s convinced she’s landed in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. But bring in a looks-obsessed chief stewardess who despises the fact Sienna’s never heard of frizz serum, a handsome pilot who could charm the knickers off a nun, and a playboy prince who’s never told no, and Sienna starts wondering if this proverbial desert oasis is more of a muddy puddle.

You might call it clichéd. She calls it aviation’s best-kept secret with a healthy side of get-me-the-hell-out-of-here-before-I-drown-in-a-vial-of-Botox.

The Devil Wears Prada meets Pan Am in this fun frolic to the glamorous side of aviation. 




Interview with Billie Bates

Billie, do you have another job outside of writing?

I’m a stay-at-home-mom, so I write when the kids are at school or asleep. I’m also a certified yoga teacher and Thai Yoga therapist, but between writing and my family, I don’t have time to teach anymore. I still do occasional Thai Yoga Therapy sessions, just because it’s such a beautiful healing modality to share. It’s hard to describe, but it’s kind of like a blend of yoga, acupressure massage, and Reiki. 


What's your favorite line from a book?

“Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.” – The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde). That’s actually 5 lines, but what a simple yet profound statement. My soul vibrates a little when I read these words aloud.  




Which character did you most enjoy writing?

I loved writing Kendi. She’s so free spirited and unconcerned with what people think of her. Which is half admirable and half absurd. 

 


What would your main character say about you?

She’d probably feel sorry for me and think I’m living her worst nightmare... an ordinary life!

 



Are any of your characters inspired by real people?

Yes. Mostly all of the characters were at some point ‘inspired’ by real people. But the moment I let go of the attachment to the real people was the moment the characters and story got interesting. 



Is your book based on real events?

Not the plot. I was in the Royal Australian Air Force, and I was also a flight attendant in the Middle East and Europe. But I was older and wiser than the protagonist, and nowhere near as insecure or reckless in my decision-making! So my aviation experience was fun, but mostly uneventful. The thing is, there’s no story in ‘uneventful’. 



Very true! With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck in a
bookstore?
 

Probably Kendi. Just for a laugh. She’d be the person reading erotica out loud just to cause a scene!


What song would you pick to go with your book?

"Don’t Stop Believin’" by Journey.
 



What book are you currently reading and in what format
(e-book/paperback/hardcover)?

The Hidden Tools of Comedy: The Serious Business of Being Funny by Steve Kaplan. I’m alternating between the Kindle edition and the paperback copy.

Where and when do you prefer to do your writing?

I can write anywhere. Cafes, home, public transport... I try not to write in the shower.
I prefer to write in the morning. I’m always so exhausted by the time I get the kids to bed, which means I’m not as productive at night. But I still pull out the computer, even if I just end up writing chapter headings.
 



If you could only keep one book, what would it be?

The Power of Now – Eckhart Tolle




You're given the day off, and you can do anything but write. What would you do?
 

I’d take my kids to the beach. If I didn’t have the kids and it was a ‘me’ day? I’d probably go the Gold Class cinema, settle back with a flatbread and wine, and enjoy a movie marathon! Either that or settle in at home with a soy latte and some dark chocolate and read a few screenplays.

Why did you decide to self publish?

I feel I have 5 books in me, max (depending on how well received my first 2 novels are!), but my first passion is screenwriting. So the process of finding a traditional publisher and then the commitments you have to make them (in exchange for very little), sounded too daunting. 


What's your favorite candy bar? And don't tell me you don't have one!
 

I eat so much chocolate that I try to be ‘good’ by buying raw organic dark chocolate. But I won’t lie, I’ll eat anything as long as it’s made with sugar and not high fructose corn syrup. Chocolate bars in the USA, like Snickers, actually taste too sweet for me. I’m convinced it’s because of the HFCS (they use cane sugar in Australia).  



What three books have you read recently and would recommend?

1. Remember Me? Sophie Kinsella.

2. Me Talk Pretty One Day – David Sedaris.

3. Inside Story by Dara Marks. An amazing book for screenwriters, with a theme-heavy approach to writing scripts.

But you won’t find this thematic depth in my books! I like to refer to my novels as ‘Pancake Fiction’. You know, light and fluffy, enjoy it in the moment, then forget about it (because the diet always starts the next day).





What do you like to do when you're not writing?

I like to spend time with my husband and children, go to the movies, take a yoga class, or read. I love listening to live music in the summer. Something acoustic and unplugged... reminds me of Australia for some reason, especially if it’s on a Sunday afternoon.
 



If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
 

Southern California or Vail, Colorado. Or maybe a split between the two!



What's one of your favorite quotes?

“Believe in Santa, love at first sight, and that your ship will come in. As long as you do, your life is bound to be Golden!” – Diane Muldrow, from her book, Everything I need to know I learned from a Little Golden Book.

I even use this quote in the opening of my second book. I’m all about believing in fairytales and The Secret. LOL


What are you working on now?

A few things, actually.

Firstly, my follow up novel, Catch a falling Czar. It’s much more romance-centric than Private Air. I love getting caught up in the confusion, misunderstandings, and fluttering heartbeats of young love! Private Air has minor romantic elements, but it’s in no way the focus.

Secondly, one of my scripts (not chick lit) recently placed in a few film festivals, so I’m also polishing that on the side and hoping to send it out to the industry later this year.


Lastly, I’ve loosely outlined a prequel to Private Air and a Desire Lit offshoot of the Private Air books from Kendi’s point of view. But I’ll have to wait and see how books 1 and 2 go before excavating those stories any further.

Excerpt from Private Air

A glow of excitement washed over me as I jumped in a cab. Mike still didn’t know I was in town, so my arrival would be a sweet surprise. We’d been doing the long distant thing for three years, which wasn’t terrible, since I only had to worry about shaving my legs once every two weeks. But now that we were engaged and my contract was up with the RAAF, the plan was for me to discharge and move here to be with him.

I’d always imagined taking time out to travel the world after my military contract ended, but life didn’t always turn out as planned.  And even if giving up flying and living in Williamtown wasn’t quite the jet-set life I’d envisioned, being the wife of a fighter pilot wouldn’t be terrible, either. What girl didn’t want to find a fun swoon-worthy man to love and settle down with? I pushed aside the niggling thought that I was giving up on pursuing my dreams, and focused on nicer thoughts, like bubble baths… and reenacting love scenes from Top Gun.

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up next to Mike’s black Nissan 350Z. Beyonce blared from the living room. Beyonce? Other than the Top Gun soundtrack, I usually couldn’t get him to listen to anything but AC/DC.

I stepped through the front door to his townhouse and called out over the music, “Mike? It’s me, babe, where are you?”

I needn’t have asked.

Mike sat in the living room in his boxers, his hands behind his back in fluffy pink handcuffs, while a flame-haired Glamazonian, complete with leopard print thong, gyrated on his lap to Crazy in Love.

I froze, halfway through the door, with my hand still on the doorknob and my jaw on the floor. My initial thought was I’d just seen my first pair of bare, silicone boobs. Not a common sight in the circles we hung with.

Mike, although stunned, didn’t look nearly as worried as I thought he should. “Sienna, what are you doing here?” he asked.

My stomach lurched into my throat.

Big Red got off his lap, apparently bored, but didn’t attempt to clothe herself or to un-cuff him. She switched off the music with the remote, looked me up and down (or just down, considering she stood six feet tall), and swaggered to the bedroom. “Let me know when you’re done,” she called over her shoulder.

“Sienna, it’s not what it looks like,” Mike said.

“That’s original.” What I really wanted to say was, So you’re not getting a lap dance? You’re just having your crotch polished and her panties are the Shamwow? But the saliva build-up in my throat only let me swallow.

He sighed. “Why don’t you un-cuff me, then we can talk. The keys are over there on the coffee table.” He nodded in the direction of the table. The table I’d given him as a housewarming gift. In a daze, I inched over.

He took my silence as a cue to continue. “Arizona is a stripper, okay, but it’s not as sleazy as it looks. We’re old friends.”

I thought over a list of activities I participated in with old friends. Lap dancing didn’t come to mind.

“There’s no easy way to say this, sweet-thing...” He tilted his head in pity. “Arizona and I have fallen in love.”

My heart stopped.

I didn’t know which was more insulting; that he’d paid another woman to gyrate on his groin, or that he was in love with another woman who’d been gyrating on his groin.

The blood that had drained from my face returned with full force. “You’re in love? You still call her by her stage name and you think you’re in love? You have a fifteen thousand dollar ring on another girl’s finger, and you think you’re in love?” My voice didn’t come close to matching my internal meltdown.

“Sienna, I’m so sorry, babe, this is hard for me too, you know. I was waiting for the right time to tell you. I guess the heart just wants what the heart wants...”

I stared at his bound and pathetic self and felt an overwhelming urge to kick the chair from beneath him. “No Michael, in your case I think the dick just wants what the dick wants.” I picked up a lipstick from the table and examined the base. Final Seduction. How appropriate. Mike sat jaw clenched as I wrote the word DICK across his forehead in hooker-red lipstick, then turned and walked out the door.

“I’m keeping the ring,” I called over my shoulder as I left.

     *********                                                                          

Two days later, I was back in Canberra freezing my butt-cheeks off on the rifle range. Weapons handling only came around twice a year, but I couldn’t stand it. Raw blisters in the webbing of my thumbs and bruises on my hipbones from shooting in the prone position, weren’t my idea of a fun day out.

“Harris!” The sergeant’s voice bellowed out over the range. “Unload your rifle and get to the shelter! Your Commanding Officer’s on the phone!”

Thank God. They probably needed me for a flight, which meant I’d get out of spending the rest of the day firing (or misfiring). Although, picturing Mike’s face on the target had me shooting with much higher accuracy than usual.

I unloaded my rifle, handed the sergeant my magazine, and pulled my camouflage-pant’s pockets inside out. “No live rounds or ammunition in my possession, Sarge!” I barked.
               
He nodded abruptly and kept the line-up waiting while he addressed me. “You flight stewardesses think you’re above military requirements just because you jet around the country with the Prime Minister,” he said. “Harris, I want you back on this rifle range before the month is out or I’ll write you up as un-current and therefore grounded. You won’t be flying anywhere!”
               
“Yes Sergeant, I’ll report back as soon as I land.”
               
“Dismissed.” He scowled at me, then turned back to the line-up. “Ready! Instant! Fire!”
               
I skipped inside and took the receiver from the admin clerk. “Wing Commander Worthington? This is Corporal Harris.” I rolled up my camo-shirt sleeves, so relieved to be out of the cold.

“Sie, it’s me, Kendi. I had one of the boys pretend to be Worthington. Look, I’m heading over to Betsey’s Pizza Kitchen, you have to come and meet me ASAP. I have some news you’re gonna freak over!”
               
“Of course, sir, right away.” I shrugged to the admin clerk as I hung up the phone. “Duty calls,” I said, which wasn’t entirely untrue.
                                                                               
      *********

I cranked the heater in my old silver MX5 and waved to the security officer as I drove off the RAAF base. Don Henley’s "Boys of Summer" came on the radio. I turned it up to sing along at full volume, trying to push away memories of a road trip to Sydney I’d taken with Mike. The same song had blared from my stereo, and he’d covered his ears in pretend protest against my off-key singing.

I just couldn’t get my head around Mike’s snap-one-eight (fighter pilot jargon for one hundred and eighty degree turn). One minute we’re talking marriage, kids and me giving up my career to support him in his (something that had taken a lot of convincing for me to be onboard with, might I add). The next minute he’s in love with Tacky Jacky. I mean, seriously, leopard print thong? And Kendi thought I was stuck in the Eighties!

I’d really underestimated Mike’s immaturity, or else my wanker-radar had been turned off for three years. I felt like a peanut shell crushed into a dirty bar floor. Mike was the foot. I guess that made Arizona the dirty bar floor.
                 
I slid into an empty parking space outback of Betsy’s, then switched my camouflage shirt for a black, Roxy zip-front sweater.
               
Inside, Kendi sat in a corner booth with her laptop, a maxi mug of mochaccino, and what I hoped was a latte for me. She wore a pink cashmere sweater and black skinny jeans, her golden mane pulled back in a ponytail. Kendi always looked put together, even when casual. Unlike me, who always looked casual, even when put together.
               
“Sienna, you’ve got to get a load of this,” she said, throwing her tiny size-two frame around me for a hug, then dragging me down in front of her laptop.
               
I took my latte and scrolled through the article she’d pulled up.
               
"Life in the Fast Plane," the title read. Beside it, a picture of a handsome, clean-shaven Arab man. He waved from the stairs of a gleaming white Boeing 737 private jet. Two stunning flight attendants stood at the bottom of the stairs wearing black ‘60s-style baby doll dresses, knee-high boots, and sailor caps.

Gone are the days of wealth being rated by the number of Ferraris parked in one’s driveway or the size of one’s home in St Tropez. The new Jet Set make their status known by racking up air miles in their private ‘homes with wings’.

Leading the pack with his ostentatious display of wealth is Arab billionaire playboy, Prince Mohamed Al Saif, whom is often snapped at celebrity events with a different glamazon under his arm each time. Prince Mohammed Al Saif, 46, is a distant relative to the King of Saudi Arabia and has reportedly been pulled over the coals more than once by the Royal family for his overtly ‘Americanized’ lifestyle of excess.

He most recently made headlines for winning the Celebrity Car Race for Cancer last fall (a wild card entry since he funds 60% of the event), and rumors abound that his personal trainer, chef, and aircrew, all have salaries that equal that of a Chief Executive Officer…

My heart palpitated. Aircrew on salaries equaling a Chief Executive Officer? Okay, so it referred to Aussie CEOs, not quite Enron, but I didn’t need to read any more. I felt punch-drunk as I imagined a world of glamorous uniforms, exotic locations, and tax-free dollars. My very own Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

Kendi always joked that I needed an upgrade to Cribs, since Lifestyles was so last decade, but I thought it a poor imitation. And even though I’d never tried caviar or champagne (the real stuff, at least), there was something in the way ‘champagne wishes and caviar dreams’ rolled off Robin Leach’s tongue, that made me think I should want those things more than anything in the world.
               
Kendi grinned at my salivating and clicked open a new window. The title read Van Hutton VIP Crew Agency. Below it was a photo of an immaculately groomed woman in her fifties. She had a silver bob and sat with her diamond-encrusted hands laced in front of her.
               
Crewing privately owned aircraft in Europe and the Middle East since 1988.

I scanned the contact information. The phone and fax numbers were British.

I didn’t know which was more shocking, that enough private flying existed to justify a crewing agency, or that we didn’t know about it.
               
“I FedExed my résumé while you were away last week,” Kendi said. “Moira Van Hutton called me herself, Sie! She’s the one who told me to look the Prince up on line, to see if it’s someone I’d care to work for,” she said, imitating posh English. “And that’s not all, she was so impressed with my work history she asked if I could recommend any other girls for her books, ‘only slim and attractive ones’ though. Sienna, we’ve got to get your résumé to her.”
               
This caught me off guard. “She really said ‘only slim and attractive’? Isn’t that breaking the discrimination act?” I didn’t know if I’d tick the ‘slim’ box. ‘Strong’ maybe. And next to Kendi I probably looked stocky. And how attractive did she mean? The girls in the photo looked like models.

Kendi’s blue eyes narrowed, possibly mistaking my deep thought for hesitation. “Sienna, this is your dream job. Hell, throw in the ridiculous salary and it’s better than your dream job. You’d have a first-hand glimpse at the life you fantasize about every bloody time you watch re-runs of Lifestyles. You’d be like Robin Leach in a dress. A cute, sixties style, baby-doll dress.”

I exhaled, blowing my chocolate bangs off my forehead. “No, I know. Trust me, I’m actually so excited about this I feel sick.” I looked down at my trembling hands. Goose bumps and my hands are shaking, I thought, which meant I wanted this bad. “I’m just in shock. Mostly by my first reaction, which was, thank God I’m not tied down with Mike.” Maybe I was more like my mum than I thought. That could’ve been why I felt sick. She’d run off when I was twelve for a chance at her own champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

“Oh shit, hon, I’m sorry. We’ve barely talked about how you’re doing with the whole Mike screwing you over thing.”

I circled the base of my cup on the table. “I’m doing okay. I just can’t decide what’s more insulting; Mike leaving me for a dirty bar-floor, or Aunty Pearl suggesting it was because I’d let myself go.”

Kendi raised an eyebrow. “Peanut-shell analogy?”

“Yeah...” I looked at her inquisitively.

“You used it once about your mum, except she was the foot.”

“Actually, she was the foot, and the dirty bar floor.”

My Dad had died in a fighter-jet crash when I was twelve. Aspartame induced flicker vertigo, the coroner’s report read. Go figure, diet cola killed my dad. Six months later, Mum met an LA movie producer on a SYD-LAX flight and famously got fired for joining the mile high club with him. She dumped her Qantas uniform in a trashcan and never came back. Hank, the movie producer, married her but didn’t like kids, which is how I ended up living with Aunty Pearl and Uncle Stan.

“And Pearl really asked if you’d let yourself go? That’s gotta be the shittiest thing she could have said! Short of asking if you’d been giving him enough blow-jobs, that is.”

I stifled a laugh and shrugged it off. “You know what she’s like. A sweetheart, but old fashioned as hell.” I mindlessly folded my paper napkin into an airplane. “Private flight attendant for a Saudi Arabian prince.” Just saying it out loud sounded beyond exotic. I took a deliberate breath then swigged down the last of my latte. If there was a flying position out there even more prestigious than the one we already had and paid ten times as much, I wanted to be doing it. No, I had to be doing it. Just knowing about it made my little military gig now seem mediocre.

I returned to the previous window and traced my finger along the wing of the BBJ 737. Pure, giddy excitement overrode any lingering sadness about Mike.
      
I squeezed my hands into fists to stop them shaking. “I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to get this job.” A smile curled the corners of my mouth. “Let’s do this.”

About the author:





Billie Bates grew up in Australia with unquenchable thirst for travel. After exploring the world as a VIP flight attendant for seven years, she finally settled in the quiet Midwest of the USA, where she now lives with her husband and two children.

Connect with Billie:
Website |

 Facebook | 

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Buy the Book:
Amazon | Barnes & Noble and wider distribution begins March 15.




Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Featured Author: Adrienne Barbeau

Adrienne Barbeau is on tour with CLP Blog Tours, and she's stopping here today with an excerpt from her newest book, Love Bites, a Vampyres of Hollywood novel.


About the book:

NOT YOUR MAMA’S POLICE PROCEDURAL! A COP STORY WITH BITE...



Not to mention sharp, cutting wit. Detective Peter King and movie star Ovsanna Moore are the sexiest tongue-in-cheek crime-solving duo since Moonlighting hit the air waves in the ‘80s. But they may remind you more of True Blood’s Sookie and Eric than Maddie and David—because one of them’s a vampire. And like Sookie’s Bon Temps, their Los Angeles has its fair share of shapeshifting sometime-humans. 



Ovsanna’s the successful owner of her own Hollywood film studio and the star of 17 blockbuster horror films, plus three, sadly, that went straight to video. But even vampires have bad days. Though never fat days or bad hair days—she looks pretty great for 450. And in those four and a half centuries she’s pretty much seen everything, formed an opinion about it, and developed the kind of worldly-wise wit Joan Rivers only dreams about. 



Peter, on the other hand, is a Beverly Hills cop firmly rooted in human affairs, from the domestic issues of his lively Italian family to the romantic ones of his neighbor, snake dancer Suzie Q. Though Ovsanna’s had flings with everyone from Genghis Khan to Errol Flynn, Peter’s got what it takes to catch her eye and hold her interest. And he’s one hell of a detective. He's also a consummate master of spin, concealing what he knows about the world of vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters while solving the crimes they commit. 



Barbeau, a beloved actress much like Ovsanna herself, is a skilled satirist possessed of a sharp eye for the absurdity of Hollywood, with its petty jealousies, vain ambitions, over-the-top visuals, and twisted values. The result of all these delicious elements? An action-packed mystery, a sly satire, and a lush love story, spiced and seasoned with paranormal characters that the author manages to turn into metaphors for the monsters we all encounter on a daily basis.

Other books by Adrienne:


Excerpt from Love Bites

I am nearly 500 years old. My skin is flawless, my butt is tight, and my tits don’t need help staying up. Unless you impale me, dismember me, decapitate or drown me, you can’t do me much damage. I’ve been stabbed, scalded, and stretched on the rack, and I have survived. I’ve been burned, flayed, and shot, and I have survived. I’ve lived through the Thirty Years War, the French Revolution and the Spanish Inquisition. The Taiping Rebellion, the Boxer Rebellion, two World Wars and a couple of scathing movie reviews from the L.A. Times. And two weeks ago, with a little help from my personal assistant and a hunky Beverly Hills cop, I managed to do away with the mother of all evil, leaving me the most powerful vampyre in North America. I’m not saying I’m invincible, but I’ve got a pretty good track record when it comes to dealing with danger.

So why was I so terrified to drive over the hill to Studio City to have Christmas Eve dinner with the parents of a man I barely know?

He looks like a cross between Springsteen and the model they use in all those paintings of Christ. Melt-in-your-mouth-attractive. Water-in-the-desert attractive. Good-looking enough to get me going just staring at him, and that doesn’t happen very often, believe me. The last time was Nureyev, in the sixties. It’s the cheekbones. I like the ones you can cut paper on.

His name is Peter King and he’s a detective with the Beverly Hills police. Early forties. Divorced. We met two weeks ago when he was assigned by his Captain to investigate the murders of my business partner, three of my stars, and an employee of my film company, Anticipation Studios. Yes, five murders, all connected to me. I am Ovsanna Moore, writer, producer, and star of seventeen blockbuster horror films, several less than successful ones, and a few that went straight to DVD. In the film business, I’m known as a Scream Queen. In my private life--my very private life--I’m known as Ovsanna Hovannes Garabedian, Chatelaine of the Clan Dakhanavar of the First Bloodline. A vampyre. 

A fairly powerful vampyre, when you consider my clan includes most of the A-list Hollywood stars--past and present.

Peter King knows what I am. And he’d asked me out just hours after he’d discovered my secret. I found that intriguing. I like a man who’s not put off by an extra set of teeth. I was intrigued enough to accept his invitation.

So there I was, standing in my dressing room on Christmas Eve, throwing clothes on the floor as fast as I could try them on and get them off again. I’d already eliminated a Costume National suit and my Diesel jeans. What should I wear to meet the family of a man I’d already fed on, but barely knew? I was so nervous, if I’d had a gag reflex, I’d have been on my knees in front of the toilet.

Meeting his parents, for God’s sake? On Christmas Eve?

I’d just taken my Caroline Herrera smoke suede pants off the hanger when the fowl started honking.

Someone was in my yard.

I rely on a gaggle of geese to sound an alarm. It’s an idea I borrowed from Louis XVI and I swear it’s more effective than my high tech security system. Like Louis, geese are territorial, and when they’re upset, they’re loud.

This time they were making a hell of a racket.

I let my senses sharpen. I am of the Dakhanavar clan--vampyre elite--with extremely honed sight, smell, and hearing. When I choose to, I can hear conversations taking place a half mile away. I stood still and listened.

I heard the geese.

I heard the koi in the pond. The waterfall hitting the stream. The neighbor’s cat cleaning herself out on the street. And more f*^#ing geese.

But I couldn’t hear the intruder.
 
Who was it, Marcel Marceau?

I couldn’t smell him either, which meant he wasn’t human. Humans give off a distinctive scent, specific to their tribe. What I did smell, over the goose shit and honeysuckle, was something pungent and feral.

I dropped the hanger and the pants on the floor, and moved through my bedroom into my office. Whoever it was had had to scale the two foot wide, twelve foot tall stucco wall that surrounds my property--he wasn’t there by accident. I unsheathed my fangs, but kept my claws in so I could use the computer to bring up the security cameras trained on the grounds. 

I hit the keyboard and my 45” monitor split into eight screens, giving me a 360 degree view of my property. I could see the guest cottage, the pool, the squash court, the front drive--nothing there save honking fowl. They had spread all over the yard, which they didn’t usually do, and had completely abandoned their resting place by the waterfall. Which is where I finally saw movement; behind the thick bougainvillea on the far side of the stream.

You remember those scenes in Angel where David Boreanaz was standing on one side of the room and suddenly, without being seen, he was somewhere else? That’s what vampyres do. We transport ourselves so quickly that we become momentarily invisible. Something having to do with the speed of light. In the movies we call it space shifting. I don’t do it very often; I don’t have the need. My lack of practice was evident in the several seconds it took me to get to my yard. I’ve got to get back in shape.

The smell near the water was overpowering, like burning manure, and I knew for certain whatever was there wasn’t human. Or female. No bitch on earth gives off that kind of stench. I dropped my fangs, let my claws out, and studied the ground, as everything took on the glowing clarity of my vampyre vision. 

The sound of his claws pushing off the cliff fifteen feet above me brought my head up, just in time to see him hurtling down on me from the waterfall. I threw my arms out to deflect him and my nails sunk into his fur. He was some sort of wolf, three times the size of a Grey, with rabid orange eyes and a coat so black it disappeared against the darkening sky. I could feel it, though. A coarse, grimy undercoat, thick enough to act like armour, and then the outer pelage, as sharp as porcupine quills with razor-like edges. His muzzle was wide and long, overfilled with an extra set of yellow fangs that peeled his lips into a Jack Nicholson rictus and sprayed me with white foam. A Tom Savini wet dream. With foul breath.

I met him in mid-launch and we went down in the water. He had me pinned beneath him with all four paws. The stream was only inches deep. I’d spent thousands of dollars lining it with broken tourmaline granite. If I’d known I’d be playing Little Red Riding Hood, I’d have bought moss. The f#*^ing rocks were making mincemeat of my back. At least, I was nude; having to bleach my own blood out of my suede pants would have left me doubly pissed.

He shifted his weight to his front paws, pressing my shoulders deeper into the rocks, and tried going for my neck with his fangs. I couldn’t throw him off. He must have weighed 250 pounds. I held him back with both hands, my claws slicing through his pelt into his flesh. His muzzle was inches from my face, snarling and slashing from side to side. His breath was rancid, infected, like the stench of a sewer. I couldn’t get close enough to get my mouth on him. Feral saliva dripped like acid in my eyes. I wedged a leg under his belly and gashed it with my claws. I tried again for his bowels but he trapped my leg with his hind paw. Blood from his belly poured down on my breasts, pooling between them and slimeing down through my legs into the water. 

We struggled like that for minutes, holding each other at bay in a thrashing embrace. I was snarling; he was growling; the geese were honking. He was stronger than I was, in that position anyway, and if I couldn’t do something to get out from under him soon, the only Peter I was going to be spending Christmas with was a guy in a robe with the key to a gate. 


About the author:

Adrienne began her career in 1963 with the San Jose Civic Light Opera. After graduating high school, she traveled with a musical comedy revue, entertaining our servicemen on Army bases throughout Southeast Asia. In 1965, she moved to New York where she made her Broadway debut as Tevye's second daughter, Hodel, in Fiddler on the Roof. A Tony nomination and a Theatre World Award for her creation of Rizzo in the original Broadway production of Grease led her back to California and the role of Bea Arthur's daughter, Carol, in the hit series Maude.

Since then she has become a best selling author, a recording artist, and the star of numerous features, films for television, concert performances, musicals and plays.

Movie fans know her best for her performances in The Fog, Escape From New York, Creepshow, Swamp Thing, Back to School, and Cannonball Run. Her recent films include Reach for Me, with Seymour Cassell and Alfre Woodard and the award winning "zombie film" Alice Jacobs is Dead. She can currently be seen in Argo, directed by and starring Ben Affleck.

Adrienne has a Golden Globe nomination and over 450 screen performances to her credit. Drew Carey fans know her as Oswald's mom. She starred as Ruthie, the Snake Dancer, on HBO's fascinating series, Carnivale. Her recent appearances include Son's of Anarchy and Dexter and nine months on ABC's General Hospital, her first foray into daytime television. She also portray's Victoria Grayson's (Madeline Stowe) mother on ABC's hit series Revenge.

After appearing in over 25 musicals and plays, among them the West coast premieres of Women Behind Bars and Drop Dead; the Canadian premiere of Neil Simon's Lost in Yonkers; and the world premiere of What the Rabbi Saw by Billy Van Zandt and Jane Milmore, in 2006 she returned to New York to garner standing ovations as Judy Garland in The Property Known As Garland. Summer of 2012 found her returning to her favorite musical Fiddler on the Roof, playing Golde this time, not Hodel.

Off camera, Adrienne is the voice of Catwoman in Batman, The Animated Series, Ms. Simone in Scooby-Do on Zombie Island, and Scooter's Mom in the 3-D animated film Fly Me To The Moon. She can be heard in a myriad of video games: God of War and Halo 4 among them.

Adrienne is the author of three books: the best-selling memoir There Are Worse Things I Could Do; Vampyres of Hollywood; and the most recent Love Bites.

In March of 1997, Adrienne gave birth to identical twin boys, William and Walker Van Zandt, at age 51, "the only woman on the maternity ward who was a member of AARP." She lives in Los Angeles, but travels to Japan whenever she can to visit her older son, Cody Carpenter.

Connect with Adrienne:
Website |Amazon author page |

Buy the Book:
Amazon