FEATURED AUTHOR: EMMA STEIN

ABOUT THE BOOK:

The country of Anglina is teeming with social upheaval, and its officials have found an unlikely national hero in a philosopher and social activist named Horace. The Anglinian government has appointed the effeminate, irreverent, and stubborn scholar to undertake a journey around the world to learn the secret of other countries’ success. Unfortunately for Horace, most of the societies he visits turn out to be drastically different from what he expected, and he repeatedly sends scathing but witty reports about his travels and the people he encounters.

INTERVIEW WITH EMMA STEIN

Emma, do you write every day?
I would like to, and in a way I do as a translator. I take terribly complicated German technical texts and make them more logical and easier to understand for English-speaking readers, but that is hardly the same as working on my books. At the end of the day, I don’t even want to look at the computer or my keyboard, so I often find myself making sketches or illustrations for comics instead of drawing. It is a frustrating situation, but very few can make ends meet as artists these days. I hope to be working as a web designer next year or the following year, which pays much better and which would be a creative outlet in and of itself so I have more time and energy for writing.

What would your main character say about you?
Gregor from Unspeakables wouldn’t say anything unless it’s to the flute player or to Sven, but I bet Horace from Into the Void would write a nasty letter to Addie about a most sarcastic artist who drew a rather unflattering, and therefore accurate, caricature of him.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to write?
Job applications have always been challenging. Not only have I had to write them in foreign languages, I have actually had to sound competent and interested in more than my paycheck. I think the application for part-time barkeeper in Bremen topped it all.


You can be any fictional character for one day. Who would you be?
Gregor Samsa, of course. He is the first literary character I have any memory of, except perhaps Oliver Twist, as I found out about him when I was three. I actually despise insects but hope that spending the day as an enormous one would help me treat all creatures with greater respect, corny as that may sound.


Have you ever been to a fortune teller?
No, but the beggars outside my office have offered to tell my fortune, which I assume means distracting me while an accomplice searches for my wallet and keys.


What’s the worst thing someone has said about your writing? How did you deal with it?
“This sounds like poorly translated medieval dialect . . . I resent having to make these comments again.” These two remarks from my teacher addressed aspects of an essay I wrote when I was fourteen. I was dumbfounded that my teacher would phrase criticism in this manner and showed the comments to my mother. As a dedicated English teacher, she also could not understand how the comment was supposed to help me grow as a writer or thinker. Most importantly, my mother encouraged me not to be discouraged by such remarks.


What's your relationship with your cell phone?
The most recent casualty is probably still somewhere on the B76, a federal highway in Northern Germany.

If you could only watch one television station for a year, what would it be?
One station? We can narrow it down to one show: South Park!

How often do you tweet?
I fear I’m a mammal, not an avian, so the few tweets that I do emit are a bit wanting.

How do you feel about Facebook?
I would have left long ago had I not felt the need to create an author page. I think it has made quite a contribution to reducing friendship and acquaintances to typing a few characters and/or pushing a button.

What scares you the most?
Oddly enough, two of these things normally bring people great joy: dogs and having a family. Loud noises also head the list.

If you had a swear jar, would it be full?
Not only that, my bank account would be empty. I am a great fan of South Park and find myself, as something of a technical translator/troubleshooter during the day, making great use of Eric Cartman’s vocabulary when I don’t find the buttons and items our developers cite.


What do you love about where you live?
In many regards, Kiel is the place I always wanted to live as a child. It is green here, I live on the Baltic Sea, and I am not dependent on the car. We even get those eerie mists that I always imagined but had never experienced when I read fantasy books in my youth. Additionally, I get to speak German every day, I can go to the doctor without endangering my life savings, and there are lots of seagulls.

The trade-off? “Schietwetter.” Yes, it’s a cognate.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
Introvert.

What's your relationship with your TV remote?
It’s still waiting for me in a package at the store.

What's your favorite treat for movie night?
Masala chai and Rapunzel’s Nirwana chocolate. The latter is organic dark-milk chocolate with a truffle filling and is the very definition of what Germans refer to as “Hüftengold” "– hip gold.”

What's the biggest lie you ever told?
“I’m happy to be here.” It has served me well in any number of situations for about 24 years and doesn’t show any sign of becoming any less useless as the days roll on.

What is the most daring thing you've done?
It’s a toss-up between packing my bags and setting off to study in Russia, packing the same bags and setting off to teach in France, packing some of the same bags and setting off for graduate school in Canada, or setting off to study in Germany with the intention of staying.

So instead of deciding from among those options, let’s say marching into Immigrations and telling them the inefficiency of that particular office (not representative of Germany’s system, I should add) was not going to cost me yet another job offer, so they had all better scrounge up somebody to address my case because I was sick of being treated like a farm animal. I then turned to the family beside me and said “Are you sick of this? Are we people or are we cattle?” I was asked to turn over my passport and feared the worst, but luckily it was only so they could have someone look at my case.

Good for you! What is the stupidest thing you've ever done?
I keep doing it — I keep letting myself get swamped with fulfilling other people’s/institutions’ expectations and working side jobs so I can try to make ends overlap, as opposed to just meeting.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?
“Can’t fix stupid.” That’s what my uncle says, and although it is not lofty, I find myself using it more than my old favorite quote from Dostoevsky (“Красота мир спасет”/“Beauty will save the earth.”)

How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
One too few.



What are you working on now?
Probably too many projects, but the literary ones are Unspeakables and a series of comics in German and in English. Unspeakables, which is a bit further along than my social satire cartoons, is about a translator named Gregor who stutters terribly and can speak only to two people. One of these people first replaces Gregor as the marketing manager at his company and then as his lover, and the novel addresses Gregor’s struggle to come to grips with what he sees as a double betrayal. This all sounds very dark, but the conversations are laced with irony, and Gregor finally does figure out he is worth more than the sum of his translations.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Emma was born near Chicago in 1986 and has lived abroad since 2008. Her experiences in France, Canada, Germany, and Russia influence her work considerably. Theories from Cultural Studies and Sociology form another cornerstone of Emma’s work, and she enlivens what many people would consider dry texts with interpretations that are full of wit and unexpected spins on the order of things. Her penchant for pinpointing the foibles and follies of both herself and her fellows is a fine source for her satires, be they written or illustrated.

Emma has lived in Germany since 2011. She currently resides in Kiel, where she continues to surprise the natives with the historically inspired clothing that she designs and wears.

Connect with Emma:

Website  |  
Blog  |  
Facebook  |  Twitter

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 

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FEATURED AUTHOR: MIKE PHILLIPS

ABOUT THE BOOK

The enchanted creatures of legend still exist, hidden away in the secret places of the world. They take refuge from an age of camera phones and government labs, from people who won’t let them live in peace. One of these last places of safety is known as the World Below.

Ancient powers are at work. The Lords of Faerie seek to revenge the death of Baron Finkbeiner and recover the mysterious Blade of Caro. Hidden in the shadows, they await a chance to strike. The chance arises when an old enemy escapes the splinter realm in which he is imprisoned. Anxious to settle the debt, the Faerie Lords send him to finish the Lady Elizabeth and her Champion once and for all.

After leading the revolution against the despotic ruler of the World Below, Mitch Hardy has taken the throne. He never wanted to be king. The whole idea of a government by right of combat sits poorly with him. Growing evermore uneasy with his new position, he begins laying the framework for self-rule. The enchanted peoples have known nothing but kings, but are adapting quickly to this new idea of governing their own affairs. It goes well, but Mitch’s plans are interrupted by the arrival of old enemies. Soon he is fighting for his life against a hellish enemy, the likes of which he never imagined.

INTERVIEW WITH MIKE PHILLIPS

Mike, how did you get started writing and when did you become an “author?”
I never wanted to be a writer. I went to college, got a great job when I graduated, and was bored out of my skull. I didn’t have any money when going to school, so I was used to working forty hours a week and taking a full-time schedule. When I got my “real job” I had more down-time than I ever had in my life. Stories just started developing in my mind, and I thought it would be fun to write them down. Now I can’t stop. If I don’t write, the stories work their way into my head anyway. The only way I can get the stories to leave me alone is to write them down. Don’t get me wrong. I love writing, but it was never anything I set out to do.

What's your favorite thing about the writing process?
My favorite part about writing is the creative process. I like everything about story telling from the beginning of an idea to the final edit.

What books do you currently have published?
Hazard of Shadows, Chronicles of the Goblin King Book One
The World Below, Chronicles of the Goblin King Book Two
Dawn of Ages
Reign of the Nightmare Prince

Can you share some of your marketing strategies with us?
The toughest part about writing is marketing and staying in touch with my readers. I feel a deep sense of gratitude to all those people who have supported my work over the years. I wish I was better at telling them how much I appreciate their loyalty. I also have a sense of obligation to my publishers. Taking a chance on an unknown like me is a huge financial risk. I feel that I need to be better at supporting what they are trying to do in promotions and sales. I’m afraid that all too often I fall short of expectations in this regard.

You have a day job . . . how do you find time to write?
My real job is in the insurance industry. I’m a safety engineer. Every day I try to keep people from getting hurt. Not a bad gig.

What scares you the most?
Oddly enough, it never fails to surprise me when readers and editors tell me how scary my writing is. On more than one occasion, I’ve been credited with nightmares. I’m not typically frightened by the supernatural. Real violence, especially against women and children and animals, only makes me angry. So for me, the real thing to fear in modern society is accountants.

If you had a swear jar, would it be full?
At least three quarters full, yes. I’m far from success on that little personality flaw.

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
Extrovert, certainly. I love people.

What's your relationship with your TV remote?
It’s a sort of hate, hate, relationship. If the batteries are going bad but not yet in need of being replaced, I can fill up that swear jar in a hurry.

Do you spend more on clothes or food?
Great question, lost on both, actually.


What's your relationship with your cell phone?
I think my relationship with my cell is a lot like my relationship with my remote. If everything is working properly, it’s fine. If something goes wrong, I get frustrated and angry in the blink of an eye.


How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
I’m jealous of my sleep. I usually get a solid eight hours. Sometimes, I even manage an afternoon nap.


Do you have a favorite book?
I have diverse reading habits. Short stories, poetry, novels, I read it all. I have an interest in science and engineering, so I read a lot of non-fiction articles as well. When I’m reading fiction, I gravitate toward stories of the supernatural. Some of the new authors you find in online anthologies are really pushing the boundaries of the genre and are worth checking out if you haven’t already. I also like historical fiction. My most guilty pleasure is the Sharpe series by Bernard Cornwell.


How about a favorite book that was turned into a movie? Did the movie stink?
Oddly enough, the Sharpe Series. Though Sharpe was played by Saun Beene, one of my favorite actors, the movies weren’t all that good.


Do you sweat the small stuff?
Unfortunately, yes, I can’t let anything go.



How long is your to-do list?
Yes, my to-do list both for my writing and around the house is long and getting longer. But be proud of me, I cleaned a truck load of stuff out of the house last weekend and took it all to Goodwill.

I am proud of you. That's hard to do. I guess by now you've found at least three things you wish you hadn't given away . . . 
Last question: What are you working on now?
Lots going on right now. Promotions have taken up most of my time lately. I’m about halfway through the next Goblin King book and can’t wait to get back to it. My fifth fantasy novel is due out next year. I was on the treadmill this afternoon and had a great idea for a new urban fantasy series. With everything else going on, it would be great if I only had the time.

Lightning round:
Cake or frosting? Frosting
Laptop or desktop? Laptop
Chevy Chase or Bill Murray? Bill Murray
Emailing or texting? Both, but not usually at the same time.
Indoors or outdoors? Outdoors
Tea: sweet or unsweet? I love sweet tea, love it. The sugar, however, puts me kicking and screaming into the unsweet territory.
Plane, train, or automobile? The airlines stink. Amtrak is never on time and often has restroom issues, so rail is not high on my list either, though the South Shore Commuter rail into Chicago is unquestionably a good choice. That leaves the automobile. I travel by car about 50,000 miles a year for work. That’s a lot of windshield time. So, being a Michigan resident, I hope Henry Ford forgives me when I say that the automobile is one of my least favorite modes of travel. If it’s a matter of travelling for pleasure, I prefer my own two feet.

HAZARD OF SHADOWS BOOK TRAILER

THE WORLD BELOW: CHRONICLES OF THE GOBLIN KING BOOK ONE TRAILER

DAWN OF AGES TRAILER

  




ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mike Phillips is author of Hazard of Shadows, The World Below, Dawn of Ages, and Reign of the Nightmare Prince. His short stories have appeared in ParAbnormal Digest, Cemetery Moon, Sinister Tales, Beyond Centauri, the World of Myth, Mystic Signals and many others. Online, his work has appeared in Lorelei Signal, Kzine, Bewildering Stories, Midnight Times, and Fringe. He is best known for his Crow Witch and Patrick Donegal series.

Connect with Mike:
Website  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon               

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FEATURED AUTHOR: LINDSAY MCKENNA

ABOUT THE BOOK 

Lia Cassidy left the Army scarred physically and emotionally after a vicious attack by two fellow soldiers.  She turns to helping others, working at a Delos Home School Charity in Costa Rica that aids abused women and children. But when the deadly drug lord, La Arana, attacks the school, Lia finds herself on the run for her life. The only person she can trust is the ex-SEAL sent to protect her.

Cav Jordan is strong, honorable and gorgeous . . . and intrigued by Lia. He knows she has suffered pain in her past, and he is determined to break through her barriers and earn her trust. But as Cav slowly chips away at the walls Lia has built, ghosts from her past threaten to destroy their fragile relationship.

INTERVIEW WITH LINDSAY MCKENNA

Lindsay, what books do you currently have published?
I have 145 books published so far. Way too many to list here. Those interested can run over to my website and check out all the titles, dates when published at their leisure.

What's your favorite thing about the writing process?
I get to slip into another dimension where there’s actually a happily-ever-after, unlike our world where you don’t see so many.

Right now, I’m offering a free ebook prequel to Nowhere to Hide, titled, “Last Chance“ by Lindsay McKenna. It is available on Amazon, BarnesandNoble.com, iTunes/iBooks and Kobo.  Also at my website.


How long is your to-be-read list?
100 books long.  I don’t get much time to sit and read.

Can you share some of your marketing strategies with us?
I use Quote Books, which tell the story about the book I’m presently selling. With Nowhere to Hide, here is the QB. What’s fun about is that it’s actually a free gift to the reader. She can come over to http://delos.lindsaymckenna.com and find any of my first four books.  Below the cover copy is “download” and it will put a PDF document with all ten images and story on the book into any electronic device they have. I also give each of the images (in order) away to blogsites so that they have an ‘exclusive’ image from the quote book that no one else has the day I come to visit. 

And for all things Delos, I had two other quote books designed. One was to educate the reader on who and what Delos charities is. The other is about the family around whom the saga revolves. To down load both of them, go here: Delos Family and here: Delos Charity History.

How long have you been a writer?
I started writing at age 13 and worked at my craft for 22 years by myself (there was no RWA around) and finally broke into print when I was 35 years old. I’m one of the longest working authors from the group that started out in the 1980’s, and there aren’t many of us still writing! But I sure am because I love to tell a good story.

Are you a full-time writer?
Yes, I write full time. I write from 8am to noon every day. My saying I coined is: “A chapter a day keeps the bill collector away.” And it’s true.

If you could only watch one television station for a year, what would it be?
Al-Jazeera because they and the BBC news are the most oriented to true journalism without slant, hype or sensationalism.

How often do you tweet?
Every day.

How do you feel about Facebook?
Love it because so many of my readers are there with me. I love to connect to people who love to read the type of book I write.

For what would you like to be remembered?
That I brought some quiet moments in the storm of a reader’s life. Uplifted them. Books are positive in my world.

What scares you the most?
Missing a deadline!

YouTube is. . .
Wonderful. Unfortunately I have only satellite where I live and they don’t allow downloads or videos from the net.

What five things would you never want to live without?
Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee and coffee.

Who would you want to narrate a film about your life?
Probably one of my friends who truly knew me.

3D movies . . .
Make me dizzy . . . my brain can’t handle it . . .

If you had a swear jar, would it be full?
Indeed. I was in the US Navy. What can you expect? Right?

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
True introvert.

What's your relationship with your TV remote?
Kill or be killed.

Do you spend more on clothes or food?
Food.

What's your favorite treat for movie night?Popcorn, no butter and lots of salt

What's the biggest lie you ever told?
That I was a secretary. I was on a plane and the guy next to me asked what I did for a living. I learned a long time ago to never, ever say, “I’m a romance author,” to anyone. Especially a man because they always got the wrong idea. Sad but true. 

What is the most daring thing you've done?
Taught myself how to fly a single engine plane and graduate to become a student pilot at age 17.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?
"A chapter a day keeps the bill collector away."

What would your main character say about you?
Singled-minded.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to write?
Love scenes are always tricky. How do write a fresh love scene after you’ve written 145 books thus far? It’s a pickle, but I try.


Where is your favorite library, and what do you love about it?
Cottonwood Library, Cottonwood, Arizona. Love the librarians. So helpful. They love books. I love anyone who loves books.


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


Who would you invite to a dinner party if you could invite anyone in the world?
The poor, the hungry, those who have so little.


What's your relationship with your cell phone?
I love it.  My husband, however, hates it. He does not like geeky gadgets to save his soul.


How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
7-8 hours.

What is your favorite movie?
Avatar, James Cameron, director.

Do you have a favorite book?
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway.

Do you sweat the small stuff?
Only contract deadlines.

If you had to choose a cliche about life, what would it be?
Nike Ad: JUST DO IT.

How long is your to-do list?
Do I have enough paper to put all of them on a list? Probably not, haha.


LIGHTNING ROUND:

Cake or frosting? Cake, less calories and less sugar.

Laptop or desktop? Desk top.

Texting or mailing? emailing.

Indoors or outdoors? Outdoors.

Tea: sweet or unsweet? Unsweet with lemon, please.

Plane, train, or automobile? Train, love the rocking motion of it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lindsay lives her life as a risk taker, and it shines through the books she loves to write: romance, adventure and suspense. She started writing at age thirteen and continues to hone her writing skills to this day. She sold her first romance novel in 1981. The rest is history.

Since then, Lindsay has published 145 romances, historical, contemporary and paranormal series books and mass-market novels. Usually she writes six books a year, depending upon the demands in other departments of her life.  She became an Indie in 2015, and own hers own publishing company, Blue Turtle. Presently, she is writing her new family saga, the Delos Series.

Since she first rode a horse at the age of three, Lindsay has loved horses and considers herself “horse crazy.” At age thirteen, she rescued a two-year old mustang stallion from the chicken feed factory for $45 dollars and brought him home. She proceeded to tame the sorrel stallion with love and affection. It’s no surprise that later in her life, she had an Arabian horse farm in Ohio for nine years. She and her husband, David, bred, raised, trained and sold Crabbet line (English) Arabians.

When she was sixteen, Lindsay picked night crawlers and sold them to sporting goods stores in order to pay for flying classes. She was the only one at her school of over 650 teenagers to hold a student-pilot’s license at age seventeen! By the time she graduated at age eighteen, she had logged 39 hours of flying time.

She joined the U.S. Navy at age 18, in her father’s footsteps; he was in the Navy during World War II (and had the USS Fletcher, a destroyer, shot out from under him by the Japanese).

After three brutal days of nonstop, eight-hour testing in Navy bootcamp, Lindsay was told that she had the highest mechanical score since the WAVES (women in the navy) had been formed back in 1943! As no mechanical jobs were open to women in 1964, Lindsay was asked to pick another career field. She chose meteorology because it was about nature and had mechanics to it from a science perspective. She became an AG3 (E-4), Aerographer’s Mate third class, by the time she left the military.

From 1980-1983, she was a volunteer firefighter in West Point, Ohio. She also took several types of training from the Ohio Fire Academy in Reynoldsburg, Ohio. She was the only woman on a 20-man volunteer department and did everything they did — very well, she’d like to add!

Because of her background in emergency situations, in 1996, she took training at Yavapai College, Cottonwood, Arizona, to become a registered Emergency Medical Technician in the state of Arizona until 2000.  Her background in knowing what to do in emergency and accident situations is reflected in her books.

Because she went into the military, this experience became the backbone of her writing — she is credited with writing the first military romance novel (Captive of Fate, 1983, Silhouette Special Edition) and has created a thriving sub-genre within the romance field! Her many experiences in the U.S. Navy are backdrop for her understanding of the military in general, and also her very successful Morgan’s Mercenaries, which is an ongoing series in Silhouette. And her latest Shadow Warriors series and Wyoming series for Harlequin. 

Today she lives outside Sedona, Arizona. Her husband, David, a retired civil engineer, helps Lindsay care for the fruit orchard, greenhouse and the many flower planters. They have a golden retriever named Cody.

Lindsay loves to hear from her readers and loves to know what they’d like to see her write next. Please visit her Web site. And be sure to sign up for her free quarterly newsletter. It contains exclusive content found nowhere else on the Net. Plus, giveaways to her subscribers!

Connect with Lindsay: 

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  
Goodreads  |  Goodreads Series  |  Follow the tour

iTunes  |  Kobo  |  B&N Author Page

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HALLOWEEN, GOOSE PIMPLE JUNCTION-STYLE

Haunted Blog Hop!

If you checked in on October 26, you know that A Blue Million Books is participating in a Halloween blog hop. As promised, today I'm sharing a chapter from Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction that occurs on Halloween night. Louetta loves to cook, and she's prepared a Halloween feast . . .

Excerpt from Heroes & Hooligans in Goose Pimple Junction

Chapter 34

 

Hospitality is making your guests feel at home, even if you wish they were.  

~Southern Proverb

Johnny and Martha Maye walked along the sidewalk, trailing Butterbean and Maddy Mack, who were trick-or-treating. Johnny put his arm around Martha Maye's shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Did your mama tell you she invited me to dinner tonight?”

Martha Maye watched the girls run across a lawn to knock on another door. “She did, and if she hadn’t, I would have. Mama puts on the best Halloween party you ever did see. I hope you’re hungry. She’ll expect you to eat until you burst.”

“I’m always hungry. But I’ll pass on the bursting.” Butterbean screamed, and the light from the flashlight in Johnny's hand jerked toward the sound. Martha Maye took off at a dead run, but Johnny beat her to the two girls, who were jumping up and down, clinging to each other, half-laughing and half-crying. Pickle stood inside a Rubbermaid trashcan, his skinny legs sticking out of the cutout bottom that was cut out. He held the lid in his hand. He was wearing the black trashcan like it was a pair of overalls.

“What in the – ” Martha Maye started to say.

“Mama! We came past this trashcan — least we thought it was a trashcan — and Pickle jumped out of it and scared the living daylights out of us.”

“Him is mean!” Maddy Mack glared at Pickle, who was still laughing at his practical joke.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” Pickle didn’t look sorry. “But y’all gotta admit that’s a good trick.”

“That is a good trick,” Johnny said. “I’ll have to remember that next time I’m on surveillance.”

“Surveillance?” Matty Maddy Mack’s face screwed up in confusion.

“Like a stakeout,” Johnny explained.

“You’ve been on a stakeout before?” Butterbean asked, full of awe and wonder.

“Sure. A couple of times.”

As Johnny recounted one stakeout he’d been on, Pickle quietly crouched back down on the grass, pulling the trashcan lid over himself like a turtle. Then he lowered the lid on top, pulled his arms through the cut-outs, and tucked them inside. It looked like a trashcan was simply sitting on the lawn. When Johnny finished his story, Pickle jumped out like a jack-in-the-box, scaring the little girls again and sending them into another round of peals of screams.

“Aw, come on, that couldn’t have scared you! You knew I was inside there.”

“Okay, y’all, everybody move it. Let’s head to Mama’s for dinner. I can practically smell the cornbread from here.” Martha Maye herded them all toward Lou’s house in typical teacher mode.

“Hey, looka there!” Pickle said. “Hi, Mama! Hey, Peanut!”

“Ugh. Peanut,” Maddy Mack said to Butterbean. “He’s so ugly he could trick-or-treat over the phone.”

“Shh, now, none of that, girls.” Martha Maye swatted at the girls behinds. “Hello, Caledonia. Hi, Peanut. You sure are a scary vampire,” Martha Maye said.

“He scared us!” Butterbean said to Caledonia, pointing to Pickle.

“What did he do, darlin’?” Caledonia looked from Butterbean to her son. “What did you do, Pickle?”

Pickle started to crouch back down and show his mother his trick, but Martha Maye stopped him. “Show her later. Like when the girls aren’t in the vicinity. Caledonia, will you and Peanut join us for supper? I’m sure Mama fixed enough to feed Pharaoh’s army.”

“That would be lovely,” Caledonia said.

“Where’s Philetus tonight?”

She shook her head. “Working. He’s always working, isn’t he, Peanut?” Peanut was no longer at his mother’s side. He was running after the girls, who were going to trick-or-treat at the last few houses.

When they finally got to Louetta’s house, Martha Maye led them through the extensively-decorated living and dining rooms and into the hub of activity – the kitchen. Louetta had placed jack-o’-lanterns all over the living room. Some lined the mantle, some were on the coffee table, some went up the stairs, and some stood sentry in the doorways. Witches, ghosts, and monsters decorated every table in the room. In the dining room, five tissue paper ghosts hung from the chandelier, and pumpkins with faces made from vegetables sat on the table as a centerpiece. They had broccoli, unshelled peanuts, or Brussels
sprouts for hair; red peppers for lips; tiny white potatoes for eyes; string beans for eyebrows; tomatoes for ears. And the antique sideboard showcased five different desserts.

Ima Jean, Louetta, and Charlotte were in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

“Howdy, y’all. Welcome.” Louetta was dressed up like a witch, all in black, complete with striped stockings, a witch’s hat, and a fake nose with a wart. “Would y’all like some of my witch’s brew?” She cackled like a witch and didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed mugs, and began pouring hot apple cider into them. “I got Polka Dot Punch for the kids, too.”

Martha Maye opened the lid of a pot on the stove, her face showing utter contentment as she breathed in the aroma. “Mmmm, chili.”

“Where’s the beef?” Ima Jean said.

“Looks like it’s in the chili.” Johnny peered over Martha Maye’s shoulder into the pot.

“Good Lord, this is a gracious plenty,” Johnny said, looking at the food covering every surface of the big country kitchen.

“I had lots of help this year,” she said. “Imy and Charlotte have purt near cooked their fingers to the bone.”

“Shake and bake. And I hayulped,” Ima Jean said.

“So y’all better eat up,” Lou continued. “Caledonia, Peanut,” she hugged Caledonia, “I’m so glad y’all could come, too. Philetus isn’t with y’all?”

“Thank you kindly for having us, Ms. Louetta. No, he’s working tonight, as usual. It sure does smell good in here. And everything looks wonderful.” She stepped next to Charlotte, who was putting corn sticks into a basket, and pulled her in for a quick side hug.

“Hi, Ms. Culpepper,” Charlotte said. “Where’s Pickle?”

Caledonia looked around the room. “Well shoot, he was here just a minute ago. Peanut, where’d your brother go?”

Peanut shrugged. “I dunno.”

“He’s probably out front playing his Pickle-in-the-trashcan joke on some poor unsuspecting person,” Johnny said.

“I’ll go look for him.” Charlotte headed for the door.

“No need. We brought in the trash,” Jack said, coming into the room with Tess and Pickle.

“And by trash, I mean Pickle, not my sweetheart.”

“You didn’t bring Ezzie?” Martha Maye asked.

“Heavens no, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from all this good food. It would be a calamity.”


“Here, Caledonia." Lou handed over a cheese ball that looked like a pumpkin. "You take this cheese ball to the table. Imy, take the tater salad. Charlotte, grab the macaroni and
cheese. Butterbean, you take the mummy pizzas. Madison Mackenzie, take these.” She handed her a plate of pigs in a blanket, made to look like mummies.

“Lou, can I just have dessert?” Johnny eyed the huge orange-iced pumpkin-shaped cake, ghost sugar cookies with M&Ms for eyes, spider cookies with candy eyes and chow mien noodles for legs, Rice Krispies treat eyeballs, skeleton cupcakes with white chocolate–coated pretzels for the bones, and cupcakes with candy witch “legs” sticking upside down out of the icing.

“You can have whatever your little ol’ heart desires, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes immediately went to Martha Maye.

Jack whispered into his ear, “Man, you got it bad, don’tcha?”

Johnny’s face flushed bright red, and he swiped his hand over it.

“Yoo-hoo!” Honey called out from the front door. “Can we come in?”

“Absodanglutely.” Louetta hurried to greet Honey and Lolly. “Lolly, I’m glad you could make it.”

“Thank you kindly for the invite.” Lolly kissed her cheek.

“All right, y’all, have a seat and dig in,” Lou said, clapping her hands together. Then, “Wait. Let me say grace first.”

“I tell you what,” Lolly said after dinner, when everyone was sitting around in a sugar stupor, “that’ll chink your cracks.”

“I second that.” Jack patted his stomach. “That was flat-cold good. Y’all outdid yourselves.”

“Aw, thank you, boys, I – ” Lou stopped talking when she saw Ima Jean sit up straight, staring and stare strangely at the dining room window.

“Ernest Borgnine!” Ima Jean pointed. “Ernest Borgnine! He’s here.” She got up and ran to the window. Lou went with her, as Jack and Johnny went out the back door to see if Ima Jean really had seen somebody.

“I don’t see Mr. Borgnine, Imy. And furthermore, I can’t imagine why he would be in Goose Pimple Junction, or looking in our window.”

“But he was,” Imy insisted.

The men came back inside shaking their heads. “Nobody out there that we could see,” Jack said.

“Hey Pickle, come here a minute, would you?” Johnny said.

They disappeared out the back door and Jack explained, “He’s going to set out the trash.”

“I beg your pardon?” Caledonia said.

Jack laughed, along with everyone else. “I didn’t mean it like that. He’s setting up his own stakeout, and Pickle’s going to help. He looks invisible in that trash can, but even though nobody would guess there’s somebody inside that can, he can see out with those peep holes he punched into the side. Maybe he’ll see someone. You never know.”

Charlotte stood up so fast she nearly knocked her chair over. “I don’t want him doing that,” she said loudly. “He doesn’t know anything about stakeouts. He could get hurt.”

“Naw, Johnny won’t let that happen,” Jack assured.

“Won’t let what happen?” Johnny said, coming back inside.

“You won’t let Pickle get hurt out there.”

“’Course not.”

“I don’t care.” She looked like she was going to cry. “I don’t want him out there by himself. I’m going out, too.”

“But honey, if you go out, whoever it is might see you, and then Pickle wouldn’t be able to catch him,” Lou pointed out.

“He’s gonna scare the living daylights outta some poor unsuspecting soul.” Charlotte ran for the back door, leaving everyone at the table to look at each other in puzzlement.

Louetta broke the silence. “I’ve been around teenage girls in my time, but that’n is acting crazy as an outhouse mouse.”

Want more Goose Pimple Junction?

 

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BOOK BLAST: A STITCH TO DIE FOR

ABOUT THE BOOK

Ever since her husband died and left her in debt equal to the gross national product of Uzbekistan, magazine crafts editor and reluctant amateur sleuth Anastasia Pollack has stumbled across one dead body after another—but always in work-related settings. When a killer targets the elderly nasty neighbor who lives across the street from her, murder strikes too close to home. Couple that with a series of unsettling events days before Halloween, and Anastasia begins to wonder if someone is sending her a deadly message.

A Stitch to Die For (An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery) (Volume 5) 5th in Series Cozy Mystery • Paperback: 240 pages • Publisher: Lois Winston (July 7, 2015)
• ISBN-13: 978-1940795300

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Lois Winston writes mystery, romance, romantic suspense, chick lit, women’s fiction, children’s chapter books, and nonfiction under her own name and her Emma Carlyle pen name. Kirkus Reviews dubbed her critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” In addition, Lois is an award-winning craft and needlework designer who often draws much of her source material for both her characters and plots from her experiences in the crafts industry. Visit Lois/Emma at www.loiswinston.com and Anastasia at the Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers blog, www.anastasiapollack.blogspot.com. Follow everyone on Tsu at www.tsu.co/loiswinston, on Pinterest, and on Twitter.

Connect with Lois:
Website  |  Blog  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest  |  Tsu  |  Goodreads    

Buy the book: 
  Nook      Kobo    iTunes    Google Play 

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October 29

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October 30

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October 31

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FEATURED AUTHOR: JOHN GASPARD

ABOUT THE BOOK

A casual glance out his apartment window turns Magician Eli Marks’ life upside down. After spotting a dead body in the projection booth of the movie theater next door, Eli is pulled into the hunt for the killer. As he attempts to puzzle out a solution to this classic locked room mystery, he must deal with a crisis of a more personal nature: the appearance of a rival magician who threatens not only Eli’s faith in himself as a performer, but his relationship with his girlfriend.

But the killer won’t wait and starts taking homicidal steps to bring Eli’s investigation to a quick and decisive end. Things get even worse when his magician rival offers his own plausible solution to the mystery. With all the oddball suspects gathered together, Eli must unveil the secrets to this movie-geek whodunit or find himself at the wrong end of the trick.

INTERVIEW WITH JOHN GASPARD

John, by my count, this is your eighth published book. What's your favorite thing about the writing process?
When an idea hits you out of nowhere and solves all the major problems in the book. This happens somewhat less frequently than one might like.

What books do you currently have published?
The Miser's Dream is the third book in the Eli Marks series. I have another, stand-alone novel, The Ripperologists, which has a tangential relationship with The Miser's Dream. I've also written three books on low-budget filmmaking.

Can you share some of your marketing strategies with us?
This is more of an anti-strategy: Just because a person is interested in the general subject matter of your book (whether it be, oh I don't know, magic or Jack the Ripper), don't assume that they are your target market. Interest in a subject doesn't (necessarily) translate into reading fiction about that subject.

That's not to say that you shouldn't market to that audience; just don't focus on them to the exclusion of a wider reading audience that may enjoy your book.

If you could only watch one television station for a year, what would it be?
Turner Classic Movies. Are there other stations?

How often do you tweet?
I love questions that make sense today and would have been meaningless (or vaguely suggestive) just ten years ago. This question definitely qualifies.

Who would you want to narrate a film about your life?
Morgan Freeman, because then it might sound at least vaguely interesting.

If you had a swear jar, would it be full?
Not only would it be full, but it would be a large and beautiful jar (likely an antique, certainly rare), paid for with the proceeds from a series of earlier swear jars.

Excellent idea. What's your relationship with your cell phone?
Constant. And I am frequently surprised to find that one can use it to place phone calls.

How many hours of sleep do you get a night?
One hour less than I need.

What is your favorite movie?
I've seen Harold and Maude more times than I can count, so that might qualify.

Which actor was your favorite Batman?
Adam West and Michael Keaton, each in their own, inimitable way.

I say black and white movies, you say . . .
Sure.

If you had to choose a cliche about life, what would it be?
I'm not getting older, I'm getting better. (Although, in reality, I'm also getting older.)

Lightning round:
Cake or frosting? Yes please.
Chevy Chase or Bill Murray? No contest. Bill Murray. (Has Chevy Chase ever been funny?)
Indoors or outdoors? Indoors. On the couch. With Bill Murray. Eating frosted cake. Watching Harold and Maude. On TCM.
I like how you think, John!

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In real life, John’s not a magician, but he has directed six low-budget features that cost very little and made even less – that’s no small trick. He’s also written multiple books on the subject of low-budget filmmaking. Ironically, they’ve made more than the films. His blog, “Fast, Cheap Movie Thoughts” has been named “One of the 50 Best Blogs for Moviemakers” and “One of The 100 Best Blogs For Film and Theater Students.” He’s also written for TV and the stage. John lives in Minnesota and shares his home with his lovely wife, several dogs, a few cats and a handful of pet allergies.

Connect with John:

Facebook  |  
Twitter  | 
Goodreads