Showing posts with label women's fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women's fiction. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 23, 2022

FEATURED AUTHOR: DIANNE C. BRALEY


ABOUT THE BOOK


Finding inspiration where she least expects it, one woman's life is about to change forever. Life has not been kind to Georgette. Growing up with an alcoholic father and an enabling mother, she clings to the loving memory of a childhood trip to Martha's Vineyard to help see her through the bad times; and now, as an adult, she returns to the island to start her life over. Soon she becomes the private nurse for a prize-winning novelist. As the two become friends, he opens her mind to new possibilities. But everything changes when she encounters the mysterious Dock. Georgette isn't quite sure about him but finds him irresistible. She quickly loses herself in her relationship despite the inherent dangers that come with him. Torn between her own future or spiraling into a life she tried so hard to leave behind, Georgette must make her most important decision ever. Sometimes escaping the past isn't as easy as it appears. The Silence in Sound is the provocative debut novel by Dianne C. Braley detailing the devastating effects of growing up with addiction.
 

Book Details

Title: The Silence in the Sound 

Author: Dianne C. Braley

Genre: women’s fiction

Publisher: Koehler Books (August 23, 2022)

Print length: 311 pages




 

LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH DIANNE C. BRALEY


A few of your favorite things: dogs, iced coffee, Champagne, dark chocolate
.
Things you need to throw out: I throw out everything. Per my husband, it’s an issue. I’ve accidentally thrown out my wedding ring three times. (no, it’s not a sign, lol) . . . Hmmm.

Things you need in order to write: inspiration and early mornings. 

Things that hamper your writing: negative thoughts, and as a woman being all things to what feels like everyone some days.

Things you love about writing: seeing the story develop and come together and letting it take me to an unexpected place. 

Things you hate about writing: doing it even when you are not the least bit motivated, but discipline is critical.

Easiest thing about being a writer: nothing.

Hardest thing about being a writer: everything.

Words that describe you: loyal, disciplined, motivated, and strong.

Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: anxious, fearful, occasionally irritated, lol.

Favorite foods: popcorn and chocolate.

Things that make you want to throw up: any type of meat.

Favorite music: I live for music so this is tough. Anything by Billy Joel, but many would say “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn” by 80’s hairband Poison.

Music that make your ears bleed: Death Metal and anything by the Grateful Dead.

Favorite smell: the ocean.

Something that makes you hold your nose: Patchouli oil.

Something you’re really good at: being disciplined
.
Something you’re really bad at: being easy on myself.

Last best thing you ate: a giant bowl of popcorn.

Last thing you regret eating: a giant bowl of popcorn.

Things you always put in your books: my father and footwear.

Things you never put in your books: conventional love.

Things to say to an author: I bought and am reviewing your book.

Things to say to an author if you want to be fictionally killed off in their next book: I’ve been thinking about writing a book too.

Favorite places you’ve been: Martha’s Vineyard; Italy.

Places you never want to go to again: a certain part of Tennessee.

Things that make you happy: my family both human and furry, accomplishing a goal, sweeping, singing, and crank calling my mother.

Things that drive you crazy: messiness and procrastination.

Best thing you’ve ever done: go back to school for my creative writing degree.

Biggest mistake: not believing in myself when I was young.







ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A raw, gritty New Englander, Dianne C. Braley found love for the written word early on, reading and creating stories while trying to escape hers, growing up in the turbulent world of alcoholism while living in the tough inner city. After putting her pencil down for a time, she became a registered nurse finding strength and calm in caring for those who couldn’t care for themselves. Still, she never lost her drive to write and became published in various medical online and printed publications. Seeing a painting and remembering a visit to Martha’s Vineyard as a girl and falling in love when her bare feet first stepped on the sand, she moved there for a time, caring for an ailing Pulitzer prize-winning novelist. He not only was her patient but soon became her friend and motivator. He and his books helped her realize she missed crafting stories, and she had some to tell.

Currently, Dianne and her family, both human, furry, and feathered, are firmly planted in a small-town north of Boston but not far enough away to lose her city edge. She is currently earning her degree in creative writing. Still, she escapes to the Vineyard every summer, picking up her pencil, resetting herself, and writing in the place that again inspired it. The Silence in the Sound is her debut novel.



Connect with Dianne:

Website
  |  
Facebook  |  Twitter Goodreads  |  Book trailer

Buy the book:

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble

Saturday, September 18, 2021

FEATURED AUTHOR: KAT FLANNERY


 


ABOUT THE BOOK 


Grace Penner's safe haven crumbles when a body is found outside of town. Gifted the memory bell, a family heirloom, from her grandfather's will, Grace's excitement is soon squashed when the bell gets broken right after she receives it. While gluing the pieces back in place, she discovers three are still missing.

Determined to find them, she is halted when the new detective, Bennet James, investigates her family. Grace is intent on showing the detective her family isn't capable of murder, but as the investigation deepens, and pieces of the bell show up with ominous notes, Grace soon realizes the Penners are not what they seem. Amidst the tightly knit family; dark secrets, deception, and possibly even murder unfold. Will Grace be able to save the family she loves more than anything without losing herself forever?


Book Details:

Title: The Memory Bell

Author: Kat Flannery    

Genre: mystery, women’s fiction

Publisher: Black Rose Writing (July 1 2021)

Print length: 288 pages





LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH KAT FLANNERY


A few of your favorite things: books, candles, whiskey, iPad.
Things you need to throw out: my clothes from 20 years before. LOL 


Things you need in order to write: candle, quiet, whiskey, coffee.
Things that hamper your writing: noise, laundry, overwhelming schedule.


Things you love about writing: escaping to another world.
Things you hate about writing: deadlines. They are the worst.

Easiest thing about being a writer: there is nothing easy about being a writer.
Hardest thing about being a writer: writing something new that your readers will love as much as the last book.



Things you love about where you live: the people.
Things that make you want to move: the cold weather.


Things you never want to run out of: coffee.
Things you wish you’d never bought: chocolate, because I LOVE it.


Words that describe you: introvert, kind, friendly.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: quiet, reserved, unfriendly.

Favorite foods: spaghetti (I am Italian—it’s a staple).
Things that make you want to throw up: anything with cilantro in it.

Favorite music: I love almost all kinds of music and listen to it all of the time.
Music that make your ears bleed: Screech . . . who can even understand that?

Favorite beverage: coffee and then whiskey.

Something that gives you a pickle face: tequila.

Favorite smell: pine.

Something that makes you hold your nose: my son when he douses himself in cologne. LOL


Last best thing you ate: chocolate cupcake.

Last thing you regret eating: chocolate cupcake.

Things you’d walk a mile for: my kids, My husband … the chocolate cupcake.
Things that make you want to run screaming from the room: politics.

Things you always put in your books: family and friends’ names.

Things you never put in your books: the Lord’s name in vain.

Best thing you’ve ever done: have my children.

Biggest mistake: again, the chocolate cupcake.



EXCERPT FROM THE MEMORY BELL


“Family is supposed to be our safe haven. Very often, it’s the place where we find the deepest heartache.”   ~ Iyanla Vanzant

CHAPTER ONE

Detective Bennet James stood over the remains of a hand dug grave. The morning air was brisk for July, and a foggy cloud permeated the air as he exhaled. He’d woken as the first rays of dawn crept through his hotel window casting sundogs along the planked floor.

Bones were found by the grain elevators at the mill in Oakville. The sleepy town was an hour’s drive from Chicago and where he’d been stationed for the last two weeks. It was hell, but anything was better than sitting at home waiting to hear his fate. He flexed his shoulders. The muscles ached from the mounting pressure.

He took a sip of the coffee he’d bought at the local gas station. The bitter blend was cold and old. Probably made the night before and just waiting for some poor soul to drain the last of the dregs from the decanter.

With no details other than the presence of human remains to work with, Ben made quick work of taping off the area and closing all access in and out of the mill. The trains were halted and all productivity near the tracks was at a standstill. He surveyed the grounds. Three metal silos stood in a row to his left with tracks laid in front of them. Directly behind were wooden buildings with peaked roofs, and a single track led to a dead end.

He gathered the mill was over fifty years old by the way the boards heaved and sagged. Out of commission for some time, he wondered why no one had torn the dilapidated buildings down. Being that the place was pretty much deserted it’d make things difficult in the investigation. He snorted. It wasn’t his investigation, and if things didn’t work out for him with the state, he’d never see another one again.

He rubbed his hand across his face. His heart quickened with the familiar feeling of piecing together a puzzle. It was the same feeling he got every time he was dealt a new case. Except this one was different. It wasn’t his, and even though the thought of having something to occupy his mind was appealing, he doubted Sheriff Rhoads would let him take the lead on it, much less be a part of it.

Ben glanced down at the body. Nothing left but bones and a few fragments of hair which signified the death happened years before. The grave was not shallow, but not deep either. Ben guessed it was four feet into the ground. A blue blanket caught his eye. He fingered the soft cotton with a gloved hand, a crocheted throw that was now pulled from the knots someone delicately placed there. Whoever had wrapped the victim in it did so with pristine care.

“Where is the witness?” he asked the young deputy standing to his left. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name, or was it he didn’t care? It didn’t really matter. He’d stopped caring about those around him a long time ago.

The deputy looked a bit flushed, and Ben figured the kid living in the small town had never seen anything like this before. Regret settled in his stomach at making the boy stay with him while he looked over the body and its surroundings. Ben remembered seeing his first body, a young girl, no more than six. Her image still haunted him on nights when sleep wouldn’t come.

He blinked, collected his thoughts, and faced the young man.

“You’re no longer needed here,” he said. 

“The men who found the body are over there,” the kid stammered. His hand shook as he pointed to the two silhouettes standing twenty yards away.

“Thanks.” Ben dismissed him and walked toward the two men sipping coffee from their mugs. A part of him wanted to turn back to his car and leave now that Rhoads was here, but his pride and his duty wouldn’t allow it. He pulled out the small note pad and pen he kept in his pocket.

“Morning. I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Ain’t you the new fella?” one of the men asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re that swanky detective from the city.”

Ben didn’t answer.

“Why in hell would you want to come out here?”

He remained silent. It was none of the old man’s business why he’d been placed in this shithole town.

“Talk is you got into hot water up there.”

“I need to ask you some questions,” Ben repeated, an edge creeping into his voice. He wasn’t about to discuss his shit with these guys. He shifted from one foot to the other, took a deep calming breath, cleared his throat, and waited.

“Not much to tell,” the man said. His thick white moustache spanned the whole of his upper lip and the bottoms of his cheeks.

“Your name?” he asked.

“Walter Smythe.” The man leaned in to read what Ben wrote and tapped his index finger onto the paper. “That’s Smythe with a Y not an I.”

Ben nodded.

“Can you tell me how you came upon the body?”

“Ol’ Russ was the one who found it.”

He turned to the other man.

“I ain’t Russ,” the farmer said.

“Who is—”

“That’s my dog.” Walter whistled. A large St. Bernard came loping up from the field behind the buildings.

“The dog found the body?”

“That’s right.”

“What were you doing out here?”

“I come out from time to time.”

“Why if the place is closed down?”

The man shrugged.

“Have you brought Russ out here before?” Ben asked, still trying to piece together how the remains were found.

“Sure. I bring him everywhere.”

“Why was he in the elevators?”

Walter’s wide shoulders lifted underneath the plaid jacket.

“Did the dog take anything from the grave, or disturb it in anyway?”

“Once I seen him diggin’, I called him over.” Walter guffawed. “But the damn mutt just kept on going back. So, I went over to see what the hell he was after.”

“At what point did you figure out it was a body?”

“Right away when I saw the bones.”

“Russ dug up most of the grave?”

“Nah, maybe a foot of it.” Walter nudged the farmer beside him. “I called Bill and we determined it was best to call the sheriff.”

“Why didn’t you call the sheriff first?”

Walter didn’t answer.

“Did you remove or touch anything?” Ben asked.

“Nope.”

As much as the farmer was rough around the edges, he could tell Walter Smythe spoke the truth.

“One more question. Has anyone gone missing in the last ten years?”

“Not around these parts. Most people who go missing leave for the city.”

“Why is that?”

“Small towns ain’t for everybody.” Walter’s eyes narrowed. “Stuff like this don’t happen around here.”

Ben nodded before he walked away and headed back to his car. He opened the door but didn’t get in. Tall silos, train cars and tracks were surrounded by a field. Waist-high stalks of yellow waved in the breeze and from what he knew of farming, it looked to be canola. Why wasn’t the body buried in the field? There must be over a hundred acres of land. Until he received the coroner’s report, he couldn’t begin to guess at anything yet. Before he left, he’d need to talk to Sheriff Rhoads and see about any missing persons reports in the area.

“Well, that is odd.” Rhoads sauntered toward him, brows furrowed.

“What is?” Ben asked.

“A body, here, at the elevators, in Oakville.” His forehead wrinkled, and a perplexed look crossed his face. “Nobody has been here in years.”

“These things can happen anywhere. There are no rules for death.”

Rhoads focused on him, but remained quiet for some time before he said, “Not here.”

“I’d like to take the lead on this,” Ben said. The words surprised him, but he couldn’t take them back now. Besides, he needed something to keep him busy. The minor misdemeanors at the old folk’s home, break-ins, and an occasional kid in trouble wasn’t enough to keep him from going crazy with boredom.

“Not sure that’s wise, with your probation and all.”

Ben nodded, figuring that would be the answer.

“But I don’t see it as more than an unfortunate accident, so go ahead.”

Ben wasn’t so sure.

***

Excerpt from The Memory Bell by Kat Flannery.  Copyright 2021 by Kat Flannery. Reproduced with permission from Kat Flannery. All rights reserved.

 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kat Flannery is a bestselling author, she has been published in numerous periodicals throughout her career, and continues to write for blogs and online magazines. Her books have been on Canadian, USA and International bestseller lists.



An Amazon.com bestselling author, Kat’s books are available all over the world. The BRANDED TRILOGY is Kat’s award-winning series. With eight books published, Kat continues to write and market her books.

 


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

Buy the book:
Amazon  |   Barnes & Noble

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

FEATURED AUTHOR: PAULA DOMBROWIAK


 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Love is complicated, messy, and sometimes painful but oh so worth it. A heartbreaking journey through love, friendship, family, and fame. Music brought them together, addiction tore them apart, loyalty saved them. It was always Jack and Mia, everyone else was just collateral damage.

Jack O’Donnell’s life was teetering on the edge. Forced, as a teenager, to make a decision that would change his life forever, he left his hometown to pursue a music career with collaborator Mia Stone. Living in a van by the beach was not the glamorous Los Angeles lifestyle they had envisioned but sparked the most creative time of their lives. Making it big was all they ever wanted but when it happened, friendships were tested, hearts were broken, and lives were changed forever.

Erin Langford is a seasoned journalist tasked with writing a feature on Jack O’Donnell. Being at the right place at the right moment puts Erin in a unique position to get the story, but at what cost? Having preconceived notions about Jack’s rock star image, she learns there is more to a story than just the headlines. The two embark on a journey through Jack’s past where he recounts the rise and fall of his band Mogo and the irreplaceable bond between himself and collaborator Mia Stone. The feature she thought she was going to write, turns into so much more.

Blood and Bone is an evocative story told in alternating time periods, from the early ‘90s to the present day about deep bonds between flawed people whose only outlet of self-expression is through their music.


Book Details


Title: Blood and Bone


Author: Paula Dombrowiak


Genre: women’s fiction/romance


Publisher: Paula Dombrowiak (October 30, 2020)


Print length: 324 pages





LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH PAULA DOMBROWIAK


A few of your favorite things: chocolate, music, animals and books.
Things you need to throw out: a stack of papers that needs to be shredded.


Things you need in order to write: silence, comfy chair, and comfy pair of leggings.
Things that hamper your writing: interruptions such as kids and the lure of social media.


Things you love about writing: creating a story that someone will connect with.
Things you hate about writing: the first start of transferring the story from my head to the blank page. It’s so difficult to get that first bit down, but once I do it gets easier.

Easiest thing about being a writer: you can do it from anywhere, home, a coffee shop, on vacation, etc.

Hardest thing about being a writer: editing, especially removing a scene that you love but just doesn’t fit into the story anymore.


Things you love about where you live: the weather, especially in the winter is very nice.
Things that make you want to move: I wish we had all four seasons because I miss that.

Things you never want to run out of: veggies because they are my life force.
Things you wish you’d never bought: potato chips because let’s face it, I could do without them.


Words that describe you: impatient, sweet, honest, loyal.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: introvert, shy, corpulent.

Favorite foods: cheese and bread.
Things that make you want to throw up: sushi, meat.

Favorite music or song: Alternative Rock.
Music that make your ears bleed: Rap.

Favorite beverage: it’s a toss-up between a Hot Dirty Chai Tea Latte with Almond Milk and an Iced Mexican Mocha with Almond Milk.

Something that gives you a pickle face: very dry wine.

Favorite smell: vanilla.

Something that makes you hold your nose: dog farts.

Something you’re really good at: keeping in touch with friends.

Something you’re really bad at: giving advice.


Something you wish you could do: play the guitar.
Something you wish you’d never learned to do: ballet.

Something you like to do: going to wineries with my friends, whether it’s local or a trip.

Something you wish you’d never done: gotten married, ha ha, well, true but I remedied that.



Last best thing you ate: deep dish pizza.
Last thing you regret eating: Christmas tree snack cake.

Things you’d walk a mile for: caffeinated beverage.
Things that make you want to run screaming from the room: my cat’s licking their butts.

Things you always put in your books: a musical element.

Things you never put in your books: cheesy pop culture references.

Things to say to an author: Can I take a picture with you? Can you sign my book? I really enjoyed your latest book.

Things to say to an author if you want to be fictionally killed off in their next book: Did you really do the things you wrote about in your book?

Favorite places you’ve been: Portland, Oregon; San Diego, California.

Places you never want to go to again: Peter Piper Pizza.

Favorite things to do: relax at home and watch TV, take road trips, read a good book.
Things you’d run through a fire wearing gasoline pants to get out of doing: public speaking.

Things that make you happy: snuggles from my kids, kisses from my dog, a glass of wine with my besties.

Things that drive you crazy: slow drivers and when my pets lick themselves in front of me.

Proudest moment: graduating college.
Most embarrassing moment:
going up on stage to collect an award but realizing it wasn’t my name they called.


Best thing you’ve ever done: had my kids although I said I never wanted kids just because I didn’t want to go through childbirth, I’m a scaredy cat that way, but so glad I did.

Biggest mistake: selling a house I owned to an investor who kind of screwed me.

Most daring thing you’ve ever done: going on The Eagle roller coaster at Great America in Gurnee, Illinois.

Something you chickened out from doing: zip lining.

The last thing you did for the first time: hiking in Oak Creek Canyon, in Sedona, Arizona.

Something you’ll never do again: go on a scary roller coaster.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR 


Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. Music is what inspires her storytelling.


Connect with Paula:
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter Goodreads


Buy the book:
Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble 

Monday, September 17, 2018

FEATURED AUTHOR: GINNY FITE




ABOUT THE BOOK


A DC conspiracy novel of grand proportions . . .

Washington, DC, housewife Margaret Turnbull’s world literally blows up after her husband, FBI agent Clay Turnbull, is falsely arrested and killed by agents working for an international drug cartel.

Unbeknownst to Margaret, her enemy’s tentacles reach all the way to the White House and control senior personnel. Their powerful enterprise in jeopardy, the assassins will stop at nothing to cover their tracks. With cutting-edge surveillance—CIA, FBI, and NSA technology—there is nowhere to hide, no one to trust. No one is safe—anywhere.




Book Details:


Title: No End of Bad


Author: Ginny Fite


Genre: Thriller


Publisher: Black Opal Books
, (June 2018
)

Page count: 280


 On tour with: iRead Book Tours







LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH GINNY FITE



A few of your favorite things: A hand-blown glass pen with a silver nib made in Venice and given to me by my granddaughter; a collage of a dancing man made by my grandson; the late afternoon spring light that slants gold across the oak cabinet adjacent to the kitchen window; a photograph of my husband I took during the first month I knew him when he looked like a Greek god.

Things you need to throw out: Unused read/write CD disks, old computer peripherals, old textbooks, notes from classes I took in 1964, keys that don’t unlock any doors, and clothes I haven’t worn in the last ten years. (Something I wish I could get back that I threw out: an old blonde wood spinet piano.)


Things you need in order to write: Quiet, solitude, daylight, my writing room—although I’ve been known to write in the middle of a noisy café—a pen, a pad, my laptop or iPad, hours, Google (for quick research, synonyms, name checks, spelling), a cup of coffee.

Things that hamper your writing: It seems fussy but lots of people in the house, too many events in one day, a calamity, being elsewhere than my writing room, or too much natural beauty around me.



Things you love about writing: Spending hours inside my own imagination, the way words roll out on the page, how characters appear with all their tics and idiosyncrasies when I need them, how if I ask myself “what happens next?” an answer will come.

Things you hate about writing: 
Revising, revising, revising, revising.


Things you love about where you live: Two wide rivers, green mountains that look blue from a distance, vibrant fall foliage, rolling hills, the smell of peaches and then apples in the air in late summer, how after summer thunderstorms sometimes we get rainbows, the quiet, some smart talented friends.
Things that make you want to move:
 The lack of snow removal--although global warming may take care of that problem, the constant anxiety of taking care of an aging house, physical distance from my children.


Things you never want to run out of: Air, water, toilet paper, coffee, fresh peaches, crusty bread, a good tomato sauce, ideas, words.

Things you wish you’d never bought: A canoe we never used, a Fiat that wouldn’t start when it rained, gifts for a man who wasn’t worth it.



Words that describe you: Kind, loving, imaginative, poetic, and prolific
.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: Short, fat, old, cranky, frequently belligerent.



Favorite foods: Avocados, artichokes, asparagus, eggplant, a juicy steak, corn on the cob, a freshly picked ripe tomato, pasta with mussels and garlic, mango gelato
.
Things that make you want to throw up: Kasha, raw fish, and insects (even if they’re cooked).



Something you wish you could do: Sail a boat, something small like a Sunfish. I did it once out on a lake by myself, but I had no idea what I was doing. It was exhilarating and terrifying when the wind filled the sail, the skiff tilted, and I skimmed across the water.

Something you wish you’d never learned to do: Say goodbye to people I love.



Something you like to do: Make bread, loaves and loaves of it, and fill the house with that sweet yeasty smell.

Something you wish you’d never done:
 Spent time away from my children when they were young as if there was anything else on the planet that could give me as much joy as being with them.



Things to say to an author: I read your book and put a review up on Amazon; I really loved your book; what are you writing next?

Things to say to an author if you want to be fictionally killed off in their next book: I didn’t like any of the characters in your book; I don’t understand the ending; why are there so many words?

Best thing you’ve ever done: Directed a month-long art exhibit that showcased the work of fifty artists in a tri-state area.

Biggest mistake: Leaving a cushy job working for a governor to go work on Capitol Hill for a member of Congress.


Most daring thing you’ve ever done: Just living is daring but in the outside-my-comfort-zone category: completed a six-day ropes course that had me rappelling down a mountain, zip-lining between tall trees, and traversing between mountain plateaus above a deep chasm upside down by pulling myself across 250 feet by a rope.

Something you chickened out from doing: Going on a kid’s quiz show on national radio when I was twelve. I pretended to be sick.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Ginny Fite is the author of the dark mystery/thrillers Cromwell’s Folly, No Good Deed Left Undone, and Lying, Cheating, and Occasionally Murder, a funny self-help book on aging, I Should Be Dead by Now, a collection of short stories, What Goes Around, and three books of poetry. She resides in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia.




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

Buy the book:

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble










Friday, July 27, 2018

FEATURED AUTHOR: STEVEN MANCHESTER



ABOUT THE BOOK

The latest emotional rollercoaster of a novel from a master of tearjerkers and family fiction.



Mac Anderson holds life in the palm of his hand. He has a beautiful wife, three loving children, a comfortable home, and a successful career. Everything is perfect—or so it seems. Tragically, Mac is destined to learn that any sense of security can quickly prove false. Because an invisible enemy called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has invaded Mac’s fragile mind and it is about to drop him to his knees. He does all he can to conceal his inner chaos, but to no avail. Left to contend with ignorance, an insensitive justice system, and the struggles of an invisible disease, he loses everything—most importantly his family.



One shoebox might store an old pair of sneakers. Two shoeboxes might contain a lifetime of photographs. But in Three Shoeboxes, a father’s undying love may be just enough to make things right again.


Book Details:

Title: Three Shoeboxes

Author:  Steven Manchester

Genre: Women’s fiction

Publisher: Fiction Studio Books (June 12, 2018)

Print length: 285 pages






LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT WITH STEVEN MANCHESTER


A few of your favorite things: My family, a sunny day with some time to write, kindness.
Things you need to throw out: Old regrets and fears
.

Things you need in order to write: Time (mostly), just a little bit of inspiration.
Things that hamper your writing:
 Lack of time (period).

Things you love about writing: Creating something that never existed; connecting with other people and reminding them that none of us is ever alone.
Things you hate about writing: The first twenty minutes are usually painful (sometimes, it’s hard work); and when I finish a book that I’ve grown to love the characters (it’s hard to say goodbye).

Hardest thing about being a writer: Selling yourself and your work (I’d prefer others do that); I don’t love the business side.
Easiest thing about being a writer:
 Writing!

Words that describe you: Empathetic, loyal, committed, determined, hard-working, kind.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t: Compulsive; intense.

Favorite foods: Seafood, pasta—and anything that relieves my terrible sweet tooth.
Things that make you want to throw up: Meat fat; Jell-O (must be a texture thing)

Favorite song: "The Dance" by Garth Brooks.
Music that make your ears bleed: Most rap.

Something you’re really good at:
 Making people laugh in person; making people cry in books (and horseshoes).
Something you’re really bad at: Drawing; cooking (though I wish I wasn’t)
.

Something you like to do:
 Visit Italy.
Something you wish you’d never done: Honestly—nothing; every step has gotten me to where I am.

Last best thing you ate: Lobster tacos
.
Last thing you regret eating: Ice cream (too much of it).

Things you’d walk a mile for: To spend time with my kids
Things that make you want to run screaming from the room: Being in the company of people who talk about other people.

Things you always put in your books: Name of deceased family member and friends (to honor them).

Things you never put in your books: Anything that would hurt someone.

Things to say to an author: Thanks…and can I write a review for your latest book?

Things to say to an author if you want to be fictionally killed off in their next book: I could write a book, too . . . if I had the time.

Favorite places you’ve been: Greece and Paris.

Places you never want to go to again: Iraq and Kuwait.

Best thing you’ve ever done: Marrying my wife, Paula

Biggest mistake: Hurting someone’s feelings (that’s always the biggest mistake).

Most daring thing you’ve ever done: Went to war; worked in a prison for 10 years.

Something you chickened out from doing: Karaoke.



READ AN EXCERPT FROM THREE SHOEBOXES

Mac jumped up, panting like an obese dog suffering in a heat wave. His heart drummed out of his chest. Startled from a sound sleep, he didn’t know what was wrong. He leapt out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. There’s something wrong, he finally thought, I…I need help. He searched frantically for an enemy. There was none. As he stared at the frightened man in the mirror, he considered calling out to his sleeping wife. She has enough to worry about with the kids, he thought, but was already hurrying toward her. “Jen,” he said in a strained whisper.
She stirred but didn’t open her eyes.
The constricted chest, sweaty face and shaking hands made Mac wonder whether he was standing at death’s door, cardiac arrest being his ticket in. I have to do something now, he thought, or I’m a goner. “Jen,” he said louder, shaking her shoulder.
One eye opened. She looked up at him.
“It’s happening again,” he said in a voice that could have belonged to a frightened little boy.
Jen shot up in bed. “What is it?”
“I…I can’t breathe. My heart keeps fluttering and I feel…”
“I’m calling an ambulance,” she said, fumbling for her cell phone.
“No,” he said instinctively, “it’ll scare the kids.”
She looked up at him like he was crazy.
“I’ll go to the emergency room right now!” Grabbing for a pair of pants, he started to slide into them.
Jen sprang out of the bed. “I’ll call my mom and have her come over to watch the kids. In the meantime, Jillian can…”
Mac shook his foggy head, halting her. “No, I’m okay to drive,” he said, trying to breathe normally.
“But babe,” she began to protest, fear glassing over her eyes.
“I’ll text you as soon as I get there,” he promised, “and then call you just as soon as they tell me what the hell’s going on.”
Jen’s eyes filled. “Oh Mac…”
He shot her a smile, at least he tried to, before rushing out of the house and hyperventilating all the way to the hospital.
I’m here, Mac texted Jen before shutting off the ringer on his phone.
The scowling intake nurse brought him right in at the mention of “chest pains.” Within minutes, the E.R. staff went to work like a well-choreographed NASCAR pit crew, simultaneously drawing blood while wiring his torso to a portable EKG machine.
As quickly as the team had responded, they filed out of the curtained room. A young nurse, yanking the sticky discs from Mac’s chest, feigned a smile. “Try to relax, Mr. Anderson. It may take a little bit before the doctor receives all of your test results.”
For what seemed like forever, Mac sat motionless on the hospital gurney, a white curtain drawn around him. I hope it isn’t my heart, he thought, the kids are still so young and they need…
“Who do we have in number four?” a female voice asked just outside of Mac’s alcove.
Mac froze to listen in.
“Some guy who came in complaining of chest pains,” another voice answered at a strained whisper. “Test results show nothing. Just another anxiety attack.”
No way, Mac thought, not knowing whether he should feel insulted or relieved.
“Like we have time to deal with that crap,” the first voice said. “Can you imagine if men had to give birth?”
Both ladies laughed.
No friggin’ way, Mac thought before picturing his wife’s frightened face. She must be worried sick. But I can’t call her without talking to the doctor. She’d…
The curtain snapped open, revealing a young man in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
This kid can’t be a doctor, Mac thought, the world suddenly feeling like it had been turned upside down.
“Your heart is fine, Mr. Anderson,” the doctor quickly reported, his eyes on his clipboard. “I’m fairly certain you suffered a panic attack.” He looked up and grinned, but even his smile was rushed. “Sometimes the symptoms can mirror serious physical ailments.”
Mac was confused, almost disappointed. So, what I experienced wasn’t serious? he asked in his head.
The young man scribbled something onto a small square pad, tore off the top sheet and handed it to Mac. “This’ll make you feel better,” he said, prescribing a sedative that promised to render Mac more useless than the alleged attack.
“Ummm…okay,” Mac said, his face burning red.
The doctor nodded. “Stress is the number one cause of these symptoms,” he concluded. “Do you have someone you can talk to?”
Mac returned the nod, thinking, I need to get the hell out of here. Although he appreciated the concern, he was mired in a state of disbelief. I’m a master of the corporate rat race, he thought, unable to accept the medicine man’s spiel. If anyone knows how to survive stress, it’s me.
“That’s great,” the doctor said, vanishing as quickly as he’d appeared.
My problem is physical, Mac confirmed in his head, it has to be. He finished tying his shoes.
Pulling back the curtain, he was met by the stare of several female nurses. He quickly applied his false mask of strength and smiled. A panic attack, he repeated to himself. When put into words, the possibility was chilling.
The nurses smiled back, each one of them wearing the same judgmental smirk.
With his jacket tucked under his arm, Mac started down the hallway. Sure, he thought, I have plenty of people I can talk to. He pulled open the door that led back into the crowded waiting room. That is, if I actually thought it was anxiety.
Mac sat in the parking lot for a few long minutes, attempting to process the strange events of the last several days. Although he felt physically tired, there weren’t any symptoms or residual effects of the awful episodes he’d experienced—not a trace of the paralyzing terror I felt. And they just came out of the blue. He shook his head. How can it not be physical? He thought about the current state of his life. Work is work, it’s always going to come with a level of stress, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. He shook his head again. I just don’t get it. He grabbed his cell phone and called Jen. “Hi, it’s me.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, the worry in her voice making him feel worse.
“I’m fine, babe.”
“Fine?” she said, confused. “What did the doctor say?”
“He said it’s not my heart.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Her reaction—although completely understandable—struck him funny, making him feel like the boy who cried wolf.
“So what is it then?” she asked.
He hesitated, feeling oddly embarrassed to share the unbelievable diagnosis.
“Mac?”
“The doctor thinks it was a…a panic attack.”
This time, she paused. “A panic attack?” she repeated, clearly searching for more words. Then, as a born problem solver, she initiated her usual barrage of questions. “Did they give you something for it? Is there any follow up?”
“Yes, and maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“He gave me pills that I’d rather not take if I don’t need to. And he suggested I go talk to someone.”
“Talk to someone? You mean like a therapist?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”
“Oh,” she said, obviously taken aback. “Then that’s exactly what you should do.”
“I don’t know…”
“Is there something bothering you I don’t know about, Mac,” she asked, “because you can talk to me, too, you know.”
“I know, babe. But there’s nothing bothering me, honest.” He took a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, I don’t buy the anxiety attack diagnosis.”
“Well, whatever you were feeling this morning was real enough, right? I could see it in your face. It wouldn’t hurt anything for you to go talk to someone.” She still sounded scared and he hated it.
“Maybe not,” he replied, appeasing her. In the back of his head, though, he was already contemplating how much he should continue to share with her—or protect her from. “I need to get to work,” he said.
“Why don’t you just take the day off and relax?” she suggested.
Here we go, he thought. “I wish I could, babe,” he said, “but we have way too much going on at the office right now.”
“And maybe that’s part of your problem,” she said.
“I’ll be fine, Jen,” he promised. “We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Love you,” he said.
“And I love you,” she said in a tone intended for him to remember it.
***
Excerpt from Three Shoeboxes by Steven Manchester.  Copyright © 2018 by Steven Manchester. Reproduced with permission from The Story Plant. All rights reserved.




OTHER BOOKS BY STEVEN MANCHESTER




ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Steven Manchester is the author of the #1 bestsellers Twelve Months, The Rockin' Chair, Pressed Pennies and Gooseberry Island, as well as the national bestsellers Ashes and The Changing Season, and the multi-award winning novels, Goodnight, Brian and The Thursday Night Club. He has written A Christmas Wish (Kindle exclusive), Wilbur Avenue (novelette), and Just in Time (novelette) while his work has appeared on NBC's Today Show, CBS's The Early Show, CNN's American Morning and BET's Nightly News. Three of Steven's short stories were selected "101 Best" for Chicken Soup for the Soul series, and he is the produced playwright of Three Shoeboxes. When not spending time with his beautiful wife, Paula, or their four children, this Massachusetts author is promoting his works or writing.

Connect with Steve:
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  | Amazon

Buy the book:
Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble

Check out Steven's guest post and short story from May 2018 on A Blue Million Books.


Thursday, October 5, 2017

FEATURED AUTHOR: KARIN GILLESPIE



ABOUT THE BOOK

Skye Sebring is a hospitality greeter inside the pearly gates of an unorthodox Heaven, where carefree and lusty angels get tipsy in the Live A Little Lounge, practice cloud art, and are guided by a brassy female deity who sounds and looks like Bette Midler. During the course of her duties, Skye meets lawyer Ryan Blaine, who has a brush with death due to a motorcycle accident.

It’s not Ryan’s time to die yet, so he returns back to Earth, but Skye can’t get him out of her mind. Why does Ryan seem so familiar to her and why does she feel an unexplainable attraction to him? She begins spying on Ryan’s life from her perch in heaven and even manages to follow him down to Earth. There she finds a world very different than Heaven, where drinking too much champagne results in hangovers, roses can prick fingers, and hearts are capable of being broken. All seems lost until she remembers that most of life's lessons can be learned from the lyrics of five Beatles songs and one of the Fab Four’s songs might actually help win her the love of a lifetime.

Divinely Yours is a celestial romantic comedy about a love that crosses all dimensions.









LOVE OR HATE INTERVIEW WITH KARIN GILLESPIE


Things you love about writing:
I love that writing is a complete act of faith and that I’m creating something out of thin air. I love the way the muse parachutes down hints gradually so I can solve the all the puzzles that every novel poses.
Things you hate about writing:
Not crazy about the wrong turns. I keep an outtake file and it’s often longer than my novels.

Hardest thing about being a writer:
It’s so all-encompassing. When I’m writing a book I feel like I’ve joined some kind of cult that takes all my attention. All my energy is poured into and I have to remind myself that there is a life outside the book.
Easiest thing about being a writer:
You can do it anywhere. 


Things you love about where you live:
 I live in Georgia. Balmy winters, friendly folk, tree-lined streets, vegetables swimming in meat.
Things that make you want to move:
Humidity, heat, Southern stubbornness.


Words that describe you:
Passionate, humorous, driven, upbeat.
Words that describe you but you wish they didn’t:
Know-it-all attitude, occasional orneriness, sensitivity.

Favorite foods:

Anything Mediterranean. I adore hummus, Greek yogurt, olives etc.
Things that make you want to throw up: 
Liver and okra.

Favorite beverage:
Wine!!!!

Something that gives you a pickle face:
Milk.

People you consider as heroes:

Mother Theresa, Gandhi, Dalia Lama, MLK 

People with a big L on their foreheads:
People who divide others.



Last best thing you ate:

Blue Apron meal of chicken and creamed eggplant.

Last thing you regret eating: 

A half bag of chips during the hurricane.

Things you’d walk a mile for:
A great insight for my latest novel. Walking informs my creativity.
Things that make you want to run screaming from the room:
Flying palmetto bugs.

Favorite places you’ve been:

Charleston, New York City, Austria, Savannah, Austria.

Places you never want to go to again: 

Paris. It’s a little uppity and can be a little dark.

Things that make you happy:

Quiet time, libraries, book stores, el fresco dining, baths.

Things that drive you crazy:
Traffic, home repairs.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Karin Gillespie is the author of seven novels and lives in Augusta, Georgia.

Connect with Karin:

Facebook  

Buy the book:
Amazon  





Thursday, November 5, 2015

FEATURED AUTHOR: D. BRYANT SIMMONS




ABOUT THE BOOK

With their turbulent past firmly behind them, Belinda and her daughters are ready to live happily ever after. But before long new threats emerge and things spiral out of control as Belinda fights like hell to keep her teenagers on the straight and narrow. The tighter she pulls the reins the harder they rebel until secrecy, addiction, and wounds from the past send the Morrow girls hurling down unexpected paths.




EXCERPT FROM BLUE SKY

With their turbulent past firmly behind them, Belinda and her daughters are ready to live happily ever after. But before long new threats emerge and things spiral out of control as Belinda fights like hell to keep her teenagers on the straight and narrow. The tighter she pulls the reins the harder they rebel until secrecy, addiction, and wounds from the past send the Morrow girls hurling down unexpected paths.



My sisters and I were never alone with the woman we knew as Aunt Paula until the day my mama disappeared.

Aunt Paula sat at the kitchen table with her arm around Jackie, trying to explain why Mama had left us. "She'll be back. Everything'll be okay." She wound the ends of my sister's braids around her finger. Paula only had boys, so spending time with us was how she got her fill of pretty dresses, dolls, and braids. "Your mama will be back before you know it."

It failed as an explanation, but my sisters didn’t bothered to question her any further. They heard what they needed. Mama was coming back, and everything would be fine. So, I kept quiet.

In the morning, we went downstairs, expecting to see Mama there in her robe flipping pancakes. We found Paula instead, lining up four paper-bag lunches and smiling. Mama only ever packed us two lunches. One for Nikki, who like most sixth graders, brought her lunch, plus another bag for me and Jackie because we always ate together, and Jackie tended to forget if Mama trusted her with her own lunch. I started to point out Nat didn't need a cold lunch since kindergarteners ate hot lunches, but I decided against it.

"Here you girls go. Now, go learn something."

"Mama be here when we get back?” Jackie asked.

Aunt Paula smiled and nodded.

We raced home, convinced we were due a celebration because Mama had never been gone from us for longer than a few hours. Folks said she was overprotective, never wanting us to go to sleepovers and things. She liked having us close. Up the porch steps we ran, and Nikki took out her key to unlock the door. Silence met us in the foyer. No Mama. No Paula. Jackie took off running, calling out for her like Mama hid in the back somewhere.

“Mama not here?” Nat looked up at me.

Stunned, Nikki couldn't move to even close the door. She peeked over her shoulder at the outside world like maybe we shouldn't be alone in the house, like we might get in trouble.

"Times like this is why you got the key," I reminded her and locked the door behind us. "When Mama's at work. She’s at work is all.”

When Daddy moved out, Mama started working a lot. At first she worked the afternoon shift, but she got moved to the morning shift, so she could be home around the time we got out of school.

“She’ll be here soon.” I said.

So, we waited.

We got hungry, so Nikki made us a snack, and we waited some more.

Once suppertime came, Nikki thought we should surprise Mama by making it ourselves. She did most of the work, arguing with Jackie about where Mama kept things and how much of each ingredient was supposed to go in it. I kept watch from the window seat. At the first sight of her, I was gonna yell out, so my sisters would stop fighting and relax. Only, Mama didn't come home.

The next day we got up and did it all again. Only this time when school let out, the principal called us down to her office. Stacks of files and papers covered every inch of the desk with a few on the floor reaching knee-high. The principal was a burly woman with a high-pitched voice. She directed us to the empty chairs and in one long breath, laid out the problem at hand. Nobody answered when the school called our home phone, and the folks at Mama's job claimed she disappeared during her shift three days ago. Then she asked if we knew where Mama was. Asked if we had supervision at home.

"Yes. We're fine," I said.

But she didn't believe me. She said Nat had mentioned it to her teacher who told the secretary who told her.

"Mama must've gone to see somebody about a bike for us."

"Heziah," Jackie piped. Heziah was her answer to every unknown. Just the thought of him made her smile. She loved Mama's boyfriend the way I loved our daddy. "She gone to see Heziah, but she be back soon."

The principal shooed us out of the overcrowded office as she began to make a telephone call.

An hour later, a fiftyish woman in a navy blue suit showed up to take us home. She had two other women with her, both younger and trained to follow orders. They marched us up the stairs and into our bedrooms, lording over us while we each packed one bag a piece. One of the subordinates packed Nat's bag, which didn't sit well with Nikki since she thought she was the one in charge.

I had other concerns. "Where we going? You taking us to our Mama?"

"No. You're going to stay somewhere else for now."

"Where?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"I'm not going nowhere until my mama get home!" Jackie said, glaring at the woman in defiance. Only one person in our family was as stubborn as Jackie. When my sister put her foot down, she meant it.

"Me neither," Nat said, squeezing tight to her stuffed teddy bear.

"Young lady, I didn't give you a choice. Now...let's go."

"You can't make me! You not my mama."

The front door opened and the standoff ended. Daddy strolled into the foyer, twirling his key around his finger. I was so happy I was about ready to burst. Flew down the stairs and into his bulging arms. Folks said his strength was legendary, and I knew he'd throw down before letting them take us anywhere.

"I missed you, Daddy!"

"Missed you too, baby girl. Where's your Mama?"

The old woman and her sidekicks joined us downstairs. They were still holding on to our bags. I smiled thinking about what was in store for the DCFS woman and her friends. Nobody messed with my daddy.

"Mr. Morrow, hello. I'm Judith Gibson. I work for the Department of Children and Family Services."

"What you want?"

"Do you live in the home?"

"Not at the moment, I don't." His gaze traveled over to Jackie, who dragged the toe of her shoe along a crack in the floor boards. "But I will be soon. Why?"

"We're taking temporary custody of the girls. Now, we don't want to make this harder on them, so please..."

"N'all. They my kids. I'll take 'em until they Mama get home from work."

"She not at work! She gone to get Heziah!" Jackie said. "He’s our daddy now! You ain't nothing!"

Daddy's jaw twitched, his chest swelled, and his mouth spat, "You wanna take one of 'em? Take that one. The rest of 'em comin' with me."

"Daddy, where you live?" Nikki whispered.

But his address didn't matter. The social worker had made up her mind before he stepped over the threshold. She took out some fancy document from her purse and held out the sheet of paper, proving we didn't belong to him no more.

He read it over and said, "She lying! I ain't never did nothing like this here...this here letter say! She the one be neglecting them! Where she is? How she gonna say I ain't a fit parent?"

The woman gave a little nod, and one of the younger women disappeared into the kitchen. Daddy didn't mind. He kept right on yelling. Yelled until the police showed up. They tried to calm him down, but they were doing it all wrong. Daddy ain't calm down for anybody but me. They were ushering us toward the front door, but I was trying to stay in his field of vision. My calming powers ain't work otherwise.

"Mya," Jackie's hand clutched mine, and I read the plea in her eyes. Last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near Daddy. My sister's fingers tightened around mine.

Folks always thought we were twins on account of how close we were in age. I nodded and walked with her out to the porch. We were down the steps and almost to the gate before we realized what was happening. Two cars—one tan, the other black. One of the social workers was holding Nat's hand and standing in front of the tan car. Nikki was cowering in the shadows of the black car's rear seat.

Jackie said, "We go together."

"No. You're going to this car, and Mya here is going to the black car."

"We go together," I said.

"You girls need to say your goodbyes."

Jackie's grasp only tightened, and I thought my chest might cave in and crush what was left of my heart. First Daddy left, then Mama, now my sisters. I never hated anyone before, but I hated the smug DCFS woman with every fiber of my body.

"No!" My sister let out a blood curling scream, and I pulled her body to mine, clutching at her clothes.

"Please, if you relax..." The woman was saying as she tried to pry us apart.

"Get off me! You get off me! No! Myaaaa!"

"Jackie...," I said, mumbling, as she slipped out of my grasp. A stranger's hands were guiding me toward the black sedan. I stumbled over the grass, over the curb, failing to see through the curtain of tears. A car door closed, and a second later, we were moving. Nikki was crying next to me, but she didn't make a move to stop them. She didn't even try.

I pressed my fingertips against the rear window.

"Please turn around and sit down. We want you to be safe."

Jackie's cries rang in my ears, but I couldn't make her out. Couldn't distinguish her from the other bodies on our front lawn. Even that didn't last very long before we took a right at the corner and sped away from the only home I ever knew.


ABOUT  THE AUTHOR

D. Bryant Simmons is an award-winning author and pens realistic fiction that straddles the line between art and social commentary. She is currently hard at work on The Morrow Girls Series, a family saga that spans three generations of women. Simmons incorporates meaty topics, such as domestic violence, addiction, and mental illness into her fiction. She believes novels can act as agents of change and hopes that her writing will inspire and empower women.

Connect with the author:
Website  |  Twitter  |  Facebook 





Thursday, September 17, 2015

FEATURED AUTHOR: KIM BOYKIN


ABOUT THE BOOK

March 1953. Nettie Gilbert has cherished her time studying to be a music teacher at Columbia College in South Carolina, but as graduation approaches, she can't wait to return to her family – and her childhood sweetheart, Brooks – in Alabama. But just days before her senior recital, she gets a letter from her mama telling her that Brooks is getting married . . . to her own sister.

Devastated, Nettie drops out of school and takes a job as live-in help for two old-maid sisters, Emily and Lurleen Eldridge. Emily is fiercely protective of the ailing Lurleen, but their sisterhood has weathered many storms. And as Nettie learns more about their lives on a trip to see a faith healer halfway across the country, she'll discover that love and forgiveness will one day lead her home.




INTERVIEW WITH KIM BOYKIN


Kim, how did you get started writing and when did you become an “author?”
From as early as I can remember, I listened to my grandfather, who was a wonderful oral storyteller. From him I learned mechanics of story: sensory detail and pacing. Although at the time, I don’t thing I realized it.

But I fell in love with story as an extremely ADHD kid when the librarian in our tiny one-stoplight town took me to the stacks after I swore I hated to read and picked the one book that unlocked a love of reading that's lasted a lifetime. I wrote because I had to. I was good at it, and like many ADHD kids, I overcompensated for my poor math skills with writing.

About fifteen years ago, I finally finished a novel, not that I hadn’t finished others before, but I thought it was good enough to publish. I was so proud, I put writer in the “occupation” box on my tax return and our accountant told me to stick with “homemaker” because I hadn’t made any money as a writer. Ouch.

But I kept plugging away until I got frustrated enough to figure out I was never going to wow an agent who gets 4 or 500 queries a week. So I asked myself, who buys books? The answer is editors; there’s never been an agent in the history of agenting that I know of who has bought a book. So I went to the NY Pitch Conference, pitched directly to 4 editors. Three of them wanted to see the whole script, and that became the fist paragraph of my query. I sent out 167 e queries, had 60 agents reading the script, 20 reading the whole script, and I ended up with three offers of representation. I got to send out rejection letters, and let me tell you, some of those agents don’t take rejection very well.

What's your favorite thing about the writing process?
I'm what's called a "pantser;" I fly by the seat of my pants. My process is much like when readers listen to audio books. I hear a voice in my head; she tells me her name, where she is, what year it is and the story takes off.

How long is your to-be-read list?
I read A LOT, so it's not that long, but I am always reading.

What books do you currently have published?

A Peach of a Pair, Palmetto Moon, and The Wisdom of Hair are all women's fiction novels. And I have 6 contemporary romance eBooks through the Tule Publishing group: Steal Me, Cowboy. Flirting with Forever, She's the One, Sweet Home Carolina, Just in Time for Christmas, and Caught Up in You.

Can you share some of your marketing strategies with us?

First and foremost, I try to get my face in front of as many readers as possible through speaking engagements, book festivals, and sometimes bookstore appearances if they are an event and I'm not just sitting there with a plate full of cookies while the customers avoid my gaze like they would a homeless person's. Facebook comes next. It is the best place for me to reach the readers I can't or don't meet at events. It's helped me grow my audience. When I see a bump on Facebook, most of the time that translates into a bump in sales.

How long have you been a writer?
Almost all 57 of my years. I became a published author at 53. I'm persistent like that.

If you could only watch one television station for a year, what would it be?
It's not a station, but I would watch Showtime. They have the smartest, best written original series. It's really the only thing I watch other than football.

How often do you tweet?
Not very often. Maybe a couple times a week.

How do you feel about Facebook?
Too much. Every day, many times a day.

For what would you like to be remembered?

For making people laugh.

What scares you the most?
It shouldn't bother me so much but between aging parent responsibilities, a new book and a new grandson, I'm so afraid I'm going to forget some event and there'll be a luncheon with 80 people, a bunch of copies of A Peach of a Pair, and I'm passed out somewhere from exhaustion.

YouTube is . . . SO handy if you EVER want to learn how to do something or need to remember how to do something important, like swaddle a baby.

What five things would you never want to live without?

Coffee. Desserts. A computer. Cute shoes. An electric toothbrush.

Who would you want to narrate a film about your life?

Susan Sarandon.

3D movies are . . . a sure way to make me nauseous.

If you had a swear jar, would it be full?

Overflowing.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
A hybrid, but definitely more extrovert.

What's your relationship with your TV remote?

I can live without it.

Do you spend more on clothes or food?

It's a tie.

What's your favorite treat for movie night?

Milk Duds.

What is the most daring thing you've done?
Go to the NY Pitch Conference to sell my book.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done?
Schedule 15 dates in August, travel 2500 miles (so far,) when I had a grandson on the way. It has just about killed me.

What choices in life would you like to have a redo on?

Knowing what I know now, I probably would have self-published early on. The stigma I thought existed was almost nonexistent. It would have been more lucrative, and since I put every dime I make back into my books, I think I would have built my audience faster because a huge portion of this business on the consumer end is price driven.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?
Audrey Hepburn--"I love people in life who make me laugh. I honestly thing it's the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It's probably the most important thing in a person."

I agree! What would your main character say about you?

Nettie would say I treated her like I would my own children. As long as she didn't hurt herself or kill anyone, she could do whatever she pleased.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to write?
A Peach of a Pair.

Why?
I write full-time at home alone, with the exception of the dogs I let in and out all day. Last year, my husband was home from March-August because of a dispute with his employer. It was good because his mother was in hospice and he got to spend a lot of time with her. It was terrible because he was noisy, constantly interrupting my work.

On the day we buried his mother, my dad fell. Five falls and two brain procedures later he’s in a memory care unit. He and my mom have been married for 64 years, so she was lost. By this time it was December and I had about 50 pages written and a January 5 deadline looming.

I know I could have asked for an extension, but I didn’t want to. Thankfully, in mid-December, the floodgates opened and I wrote the book in about 3 weeks. I’m a pretty fast writer, but that was ridiculous. And scary. Glad it all worked out.


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

Wow. That's like asking me to choose between my children. I'd have to say the Richland Library in Columbia South Carolina. It is a thing of beauty on the inside and out and thrives with active patrons.


You can be any fictional character for one day. Who would you be?

I would be Nick in Gone Girl, and believe me there WOULD be a happy ending when I got done with Amy. Talk about throwing a book across the room because you hated the ending!


Have you ever been to a fortune teller?
Yes.

What did she tell you?
She told me I would live to be very old. I would have 2 children. I would move to the west coast. I would be successful. All of that has happened so far, except I'd like to think 57 isn't "very old." I had a daughter and a son; we moved to the west coast of Florida a few months after the reading. I'm working on the successful part.


What’s the worst thing someone has said about your writing?

They gave me 1 star and said Palmetto Moon was "depraved" because I had a gay character they didn't like. Then they got three or four of their friends to do the same, folks who'd never reviewed a single book on Amazon, only gardening tools or electronics, same verbiage. 

How did you deal with it?

My son is gay, and it hurt, but I did what all my author friends said to do, I did nothing. But I did write a million responses, I just never sent them.


Who would you invite to a dinner party if you could invite anyone in the world?
No contest. Meryl Streep. I love her outlook on life. Her take on story. She just seems really wise.

What's your relationship with your cell phone?

We are extremely close, but it loves to play hide and seek.


How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
On an average, six.


What is your favorite movie?
The Silver Lining Playbook.

Do you have a favorite book?
A Good Hard Look by Ann Napolitano.


Do you sweat the small stuff?
Try really hard not to.


If you had to choose a cliche about life, what would it be?

No matter how you feel. Get dressed. Show up. And never give up.


How long is your to-do list?
Nobody's created a word yet to describe its depth.


What are you working on now?

The Bridal Party, a series based on the Charleston wedding industry. It's a Sex in the City ensemble of five women. Steel Magnolias meets The Wedding Planner, but nobody dies. Due out 2017.

Lightning round:
Cake or frosting? Cake
Laptop or desktop? Both
Chevy Chase or Bill Murray? Bill Murray
Emailing or texting? Email (showing my age here)
Tea: sweet or unsweet? Gah! Neither
Plane, train, or automobile? Plane


A TASTE OF A PEACH 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kim Boykin was raised in her South Carolina home with two girly sisters and great parents. She had a happy, boring childhood, which sucks if you’re a writer because you have to create your own crazy. PLUS after you’re published and you’re being interviewed, it’s very appealing when the author actually lived in Crazy Town or somewhere in the general vicinity.

Almost everything she learned about writing, she learned from her grandpa, an oral storyteller, who was a master teacher of pacing and sensory detail. He held court under an old mimosa tree on the family farm, and people used to come from all around to hear him tell stories about growing up in rural Georgia and share his unique take on the world.

As a stay-at-home mom, Kim started writing, grabbing snip-its of time in the car rider line or on the bleachers at swim practice. After her kids left the nest, she started submitting her work, sold her first novel at 53, and has been writing like crazy ever since.

Thanks to the lessons she learned under that mimosa tree, her books are well reviewed and, according to RT Book Reviews, feel like they’re being told across a kitchen table. She is the author of A Peach of a Pair, Palmetto Moon and The Wisdom of Hair from Berkley/NAL/Penguin; Flirting with Forever, She’s the One, Just in Time for Christmas, Steal Me, Cowboy and Sweet Home Carolina from Tule. While her heart is always in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, she lives in Charlotte and has a heart for hairstylist, librarians, and book junkies like herself.

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