Featured author: Tracy Brogan

Tracy Brogan is my guest today on A Blue Million Books. I'm happy to share her guest post, "Writing Rituals" and an excerpt from her historical romance, Highland Surrender.

About the author:

Tracy Brogan is a two-time RWA Golden Heart finalist who writes funny contemporary stories about ordinary people finding extraordinary love, and also stirring historical romance full of political intrigue, damsels causing distress, and the occasional man in a kilt. Her first two books, Crazy Little Thing, and Highland Surrender, both earned a 4-Star review from RT magazine and have hit the Amazon Best Selling Books list. 

Tracy lives in Michigan with her bemused husband, her perpetually exasperated children, and two dogs, who would probably behave better if they could understand sarcasm.

Guest post:

Writing Rituals
By Tracy Brogan

Writers lean toward the eccentric, perhaps a byproduct of spending more time in virtual worlds than with living, breathing human beings. It’s sort of a chicken versus the egg conundrum. Are we like this because we are often left to our own solitary entertainment? Or do we seek solitude because we know we can imagine a world more engaging than the one physically surrounding us?

Either way, I know I am decidedly eccentric. And perhaps a teensy bit superstitious/OCD. I have several rituals to put me in the mood (for writing, that is). First, I buy myself a venti-sugar-free-caramel-no-whip-soymilk-decaf-latte. It has to be this drink exactly. Venti because I need a big one. Sugar-free and no-whip because I’m always watching calories (usually watching myself devour them). Soymilk because no cows should suffer just because I need my fix. And decaf because I am irritable by nature and caffeine just makes me that much more hostile.

With beverage ready, I clear away the debris littering my desk. School papers from my above-average children, a reminder from Honda that it’s been two years since my last oil change, and copious notes to myself with Pulitzer-Prize-quality story ideas that I didn’t want to forget, which now make little sense to me at all. One simply reads, “Narcoleptic mattress salesman.” Not sure where I was headed with that.

Next, I gather my trinkets. A Jane Austin action figure l next to my computer screen stares at me with benign indifference, in much the same way she was once perused by Mr. Darcy. The irony is lost on her. Probably because she’s plastic. At her feet lies a metal disk bearing the likeness of Poseidon, an ancient coin from the coffers of an Atlantian nobleman. (Okay, so it’s from the Atlantis casino in the Bahamas. Close enough.) My bulletin board is covered with inspirational items: quips from successful writers, photos from a trip to Scotland, magazine pictures of yummy celebrities who have no idea I’ve cast them in a mental movie version of my books, and a Post-it note from my daughter. She left it for me when I was under a particularly difficult deadline. It says simply, “Mom, I believe in you.”

I also have a note from my publisher which I received just today congratulating me on the successful launch of Highland Surrender. It proclaims in big, bold letters that I’ve sold 30,000 copies in just six weeks. What an honor and a thrill. And next to that, I have a note bearing the worst review I’ve received (thus far :D) which reminds me that I’ll never please all of the people all of the time.

In this tiny corner of my house, I begin to write. The emerald green walls of my home office fall away, the drone of the washing machine fades, and my characters begin to speak. Sometimes slow and soft, sometimes shouting and animated. But they always have something to say. I like it here, in this room. They like it here, too. It’s a reunion of sorts, and like a typical family, sometimes they annoy me. Sometimes they make me cry. But always, I am happy that they’ve come to visit.

See, I told you... Writers are a little eccentric.

About the book:

Defiant Highland beauty Fiona Sinclair is shocked by her brothers’ treachery. To seal a fragile truce, they have traded her hand in marriage to their sworn enemy, a man she has never met, a man she was raised to despise. With no choice but to wed, Fiona makes her own private vow: though she may surrender her freedom, she will never surrender her heart.



Commanded by his king, Myles Campbell is no more willing than his reluctant bride. Still, she is a rare beauty, passionate enough to warm even the coldest marriage bed. Buy Myles quickly realizes Fiona Sinclair is no common wench. She has a warrior’s spirit and a fierce pride that only a fool would try to tame. And Myles Campbell is no fool. Their marriage was meant to unite warring clans. They never imagined it would ignite a once-in-a-lifetime love…

Excerpt:



Scottish Highlands, 1537



Fiona Sinclair could not reconcile the irony of nature’s twisted humor. For today of all wretched days the sky should be burdened with clouds as dark and dismal as her mood. But the morning dawned soft and fair, mild as a Highland calf, and she knew that God himself mocked her. At any moment, Myles Campbell and his father, the Earl of Argyll, would pass through the gates of Sinclair Hall, unwelcome, yet unhindered by her clan. Soon after that, she must stand upon the chapel steps and marry a man she had never met, and yet had hated for all of her life.



Through her narrow bedchamber window, sounds from the bailey filtered up. The smithy’s hammer tapped a mellow cadence as if this day were just like any other. Perhaps he shaped a horseshoe or a pointed pike. She smiled at the latter and imaged the heaviness of that same pike in her hand. Oh, that she had the courage to plunge it deep into the earl’s heart, if indeed he had one.



She rose from the threadbare cushion on the bench and moved without purpose toward the stone fireplace. A low fire burned, warding off the spring morning’s chill. From habit, Fiona slipped her hand into the leather pouch around her waist. She squeezed tight the silver brooch inside, its design and inscription etched as clearly in her memory as on the pin itself. A boar’s head, symbol of Clan Campbell, with words chosen by the king himself.



To Cedric Campbell, a true friend is worth a king’s ransom. James V.



The brooch had been a gift to the Campbell chief, the man about to become her father-in-law. But he had left it behind nearly seven years earlier, pierced into the flesh of Fiona’s mother so that all the world might know he had dishonored her. The priest found Aislinn Sinclair’s lifeless body in a secluded glen outside the village, stripped bare and broken, marked by Cedric’s lust and spite. Thus a feud, long simmering at the edges, boiled over.



But today the king thought to put an end to it with this farce of a marriage between a Sinclair lass and a Campbell son. It would not work.



Fiona paced to the window, restless and melancholy. She leaned out to breathe fresh spring air, hoping it might lighten her spirits. The too-sweet scent of hyacinth clung to the breeze, along with the ever-present brine of Moray Firth. Along the west curtain wall, more hammering sounded as masons worked to bolster the steps leading to the main keep. As if precarious stairs alone might halt the Campbell men from gaining entrance. But nothing would. Her fate as a Campbell bride had been declared the very day she drew in her first breath, and sealed when her father blew out his last.

Connect with Tracy:
Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

Buy the book:
Barnes & Noble / Amazon

Talking with Linda Murphy about Reaper

I'm happy to be talking with L.S. Murphy today about her YA Paranormal Romance, Reaper, published by J. Taylor Publishing.

Linda lives in the Greater St. Louis area where she watches Cardinals baseball, reads every book she can find, and weaves tales for teens and adults. When not doing all of the above, she tends to The Bean (aka her daughter), her husband, and a menagerie of pets. Reaper is her debut young adult novel and was released on January 7th, 2013.

She is a co-rep for the Southern Illinois region of Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and a member of the St. Louis Writer’s Guild.
Repped by Julia A. Weber of  J. A. Weber Literaturagentur.


About the book: There's no way sixteen year old Quincy Amarante will become the fifth grim reaper. None. Not over her shiny blue Mustang. Her Jimmy Choos. Or her dead body.

 She’s supposed to enjoy her sophomore year, not learn about some freaky future Destiny says she has no choice but to fulfill. 

It doesn’t take long for Quincy to realize the only way out of the game is to play along especially since Death can find her anyway, anywhere, anytime. And does. 

Like when she’s reassuring her friends she wants nothing to do with former best friend Ben Moorland, who’s returned from God-knows-where, and fails. Miserably.

 Instead of maintaining her coveted popularity status, Quincy’s goes down like the Titanic. 

Maybe...just maybe...that’s okay. 

It seems, perhaps, becoming a grim reaper isn’t just about the dead but more about a much needed shift in Quincy’s priorities—from who she thinks she wants to be to who she really is.

Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

All of the above. I’m more of an outliner these days, especially with novels, because I need to keep my thoughts in order. HOWEVER, the characters tell me what to do. That usually means I stray from the outline. Reaper was outlined. My shorter works are usually written by the seat of my pants.

How do you name your characters?

In Reaper, Quincy’s name has meaning. She’s told she’s going to become the fifth grim reaper. Quincy means five or fifth. Her last name, Amarante, means unfading, which seemed appropriate for a grim reaper. I really believe character names need to have meaning, if only to the author.

What would your main character say about you?

Quincy would call me a scrub.

I like writing characters who do and say things I never would, as well as characters who do and say things I wish I could. Do you have characters who fit into one of those categories?

Quincy is like that. I’m more reserved than her and was never part of the in-crowd.

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

Quantum Prophecy: The Awakening by Michael Carroll in hardcover. I just finished reading Blue Moon by J.A. Belfield in ebook.

Do you have a routine for writing? Do you work better at night, in the afternoon, or in the morning?

I write in the morning only because it’s the only time I have to write. The house is quiet. Sometimes, I’m able to fit in some words in the afternoon too. That’s nice when it happens.

Do you ever get writer’s block? What do you do when it happens?

Yes, I do. *Crosses fingers* But I haven’t lately. When I do, a change of location is in order. Instead of writing at my desk in the basement, I’ll go to the bookstore or Starbucks. Even the living room can jump start my brain.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen." ~ Winston Churchill

"Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be." ~ Kurt Vonnegut

What three books have you read recently and would recommend?

Blue Moon by J.A. Belfield is a great read. I really love her Holloway Pack series. Great characters and I’m a fan of anything set in England.
Girl of Nightmares by Kendrae Blake. I loved Anna Dressed in Blood and GoN lives up to expectations. I didn’t want it to end!
After Dark by Emi Gayle is a fun paranormal YA with a strong female character.

                                       Reaper book trailer

                                

Excerpt

A spitball stops in mid-air less than an inch from my nose. 



It hangs there. I assume everyone else notices the wet wad of paper too, but when I turn to my bestie Jordan, her mouth is stuck open with her eyes half closed. 



She was just laughing. Now she’s ... frozen? 



The sudden silence is louder than a room full of gossiping teenagers.



Mini-quakes creep up my spine like a centipede hurrying toward my hair.



I’m not entirely sure my heart is beating. I wave my shaking hand in front of Jordan, hoping this will break her free of whatever happened. 



No reaction. 



Why am I moving?



So many times, I wished Jordan would stop talking. Now is the one time I need her high-pitched voice to pierce my ears.



Quin, relax. It’s okay. No way this is real. I pinch my arm hard, but it doesn’t change anything.



A loud pop makes me spin around in my seat. A man stands in front of the chalkboard in a bluish-white robe staring at me through blizzard white eyes. He holds a staff in front of him that looks like melting glass. 



“Hello, Quincy,” he says in a deep velvet voice. “How would you like to see your future?” 



I stand and stumble toward the back of the room. “Who are you supposed to be? Gandalf?”
I’m unable to keep the tremor out of my voice.



“One person dresses up like me in a movie, and that’s all I hear.” He leans back on Mr. Spragg’s desk. “I’m far more attractive than him and so much more fun.” He winks and lifts his robe, revealing a pair of yellow and red striped Bermuda shorts and orange flip-flops.



My eyes pop wider at the mismatched mess, but I keep my thoughts about his sense of fashion to myself. “Who are you?”



His sigh echoes off the walls. “I’m Destiny.” 



“Who?”



Rolling his eyes, he raises the staff high to his left. Like a swordsman, he stabs and swooshes it down in an arch. The air ripples as a dark slit opens. A man in a deep brown pinstripe suit steps through. His cheap sneakers don’t match the formality of the tan fedora and horn-rimmed glasses.



A pony-sized white German shepherd saunters in behind him, and I take an automatic step back. The dog turns his head, black orbs where its eyes should be.



Pinstripe man glances my way before turning toward the person who calls himself Destiny. His features contort and a maroon tint creeps over his face. 



“What the f—” 

Destiny flips his finger and the new guy shuts up. After a moment, he does another finger move.



“We said when she was eighteen, Des.” 



“I’m aware of that, Forsyth.” 



“She’s not eighteen.” 



“Really? I never would have guessed.” Sarcasm fills each word as Destiny raises his eyebrows like a flag on the Fourth of July. 



Forsyth glares. “Then why am I here?” 



“I let you pick the date, but I never agreed to honor it.” Destiny pats the dog on the head with sneer and wipes his hands on his robe. “Now is the time. Teach her.”

Connect with Linda:

Blog / Facebook page / Goodreads author page / Twitter / Publisher

Talking with Tracy Tucker

I'm happy to have Tracy Tucker here as part of her book tour with CLP Blog Tours. Tracy's novel is a hilarious look at divorce, health, and life. 

About I Kill Me: Tales of A Jilted Hypochondriac:

Christine Bacon has a fatal attraction. To all things fatal. A veteran hypochondriac, her near-death experiences are exacerbated when her husband proposes they have a menage a trois with Eleanor, his busty British massage therapist, to "shake things up." Christine reluctantly agrees (although she is more wholesome than threesome), never expecting just how much she'd be rattled. As her marriage to Richard, a/k/a "Dick," falls apart, so, too, does Christine, whose fear of her own demise causes her to research every freckle, blemish, cough, bump, lump, tingle and hiccup. She isn't a doctor, but she plays one on the Internet.

There is solace for Christine: in raising daughters Lily and Carli, leaning on her friends, and wearing out the shower massager. In order to heal, she struggles to become her own person and to view her symptoms (and ex-husband) as less malignant, while searching for that special someone who will love her--despite her grave condition.

*I KILL ME is intended for an adult audience*

Tracy, I love your writing style. How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

Like many writers, I was first a reader. And an avid one. I'd carry stacks of books with me wherever I'd go. I wrote a story (loosely based on My Friend Flicka - sshhh) which my mother typed up and my father, a Dean at the University of Maine, "published" on the College of Education bulletin board. One of the art professors even illustrated it! I still have the prints. This was my first "taste" of fame, but honestly, the private side of writing was just as rewarding. I used to love curling up on my yellow beanbag chair in my bedroom with my spiral notebook, filling it up with stories of angst and horses. I remember one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Kleine, staying in at recess and helping me edit my stories. She even submitted them to children's magazines. I wrote through high school for Inside, our school newspaper, and Enclave, our literary magazine, and had my first of three poems accepted by Seventeen magazine (15 bucks a poem - I was thrilled). I continued to write through college and wrote my first book, a middle grade novel entitled Joe Nobody, soon after I graduated. Motherhood of three daughters took up just a bit of my time, so my writing was mainly put on hold until my children were older and I went through a divorce. My marriage may have been over, but my writing career wasn't!

How did you come up with the title of your book?

I originally had an agent for this book, and at that time the original title was “Shaken and Stirred.” My agent decided I should come up with something more original, but at the time I really liked the title, so we both decided on “Stirred, But Not Shaken.” I wasn’t completely satisfied with this, because the main character was most definitely shaken, but as a newbie with an agent, I thought I’d go with what she said :). I came up with my new title just before self-publishing the book, and I like this one much better...it has a double meaning, just like the chapter headings.

Do you have another job outside of writing?

I've been a teacher for seventeen years, currently teaching grade 5-7 Reading/Language Arts. It's been a wonderful career, but I am hoping to write full-time in the not-too-distant future, if my audience deems it so. :)

So many parts of this book were laugh out loud funny. Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.

I have several favorite scenes:), so I will pick a humorous one and a poignant one. The funny scene is in the chapter called “Rabid” where Christine is trying to keep the family holiday traditions alive by going to a Christmas tree farm with her kids, and her teenage daughter Lily is being difficult and negative. One poignant scene that stands out to me is when Christine, newly divorced, is looking at Lily during the night of Lily’s party, and she says, "It was hard standing here, alone in my love for her, and trying to be enough. I so wanted to be enough for my daughter." I remember feeling that way as a single parent.

What song would you pick to go along with your book?

“Somebody to Love” by Queen. I originally had lines from the song in the chapter where Christine is talking to the radio D.J., but I would have had to get permission to use the lyrics. That song is one of my personal favorites - so stirring and moving - it usually brings tears to my eyes, and I love Freddie Mercury’s voice. I think that song captures what Christine is feeling throughout the book...what many people feel after enduring the break-up of a significant relationship.

Where and when do you prefer to do your writing?
I really find I can write most anywhere, but I recently have written a lot at my new writing desk in my den. I can look out over our field, which right now is covered in snow. I will often start the gas fireplace and am usually accompanied by a glass of water with lemon and ice, a burning candle, and sometimes a writing buddy, my white cat Moby. I will try to sneak in writing whenever I can, but most of it is done after I get my horses in for the night and the pets (and ourselves) fed. One of my favorite times to write is on Saturday morning.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“Be the person your dog thinks you are.” I love this. One of my former student teachers gave me a bumper sticker with this quote on it, and I keep it on my desk in my classroom.

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

I love to spend time with my children, both human and furry. I've loved having my daughters home on college break because the empty nest stage has been hard for me. I've always been passionate about animals, ever since I was very young. I love walking my dogs or snowshoeing with them in the winter, riding and grooming my horses, cleaning stalls, preparing their hay, grain and water...I love the whole farm lifestyle. It's purposeful work, and very grounding. I also enjoy reading on my Kindle before I go to bed, and going to Sunday breakfast with my husband at our favorite local restaurant. I also really love just being at my home and working in and around the house.

I'm anxious to read more of your work. What are you working on now?

I'm about 30,000 words into my next book (contemporary women’s fiction). It has some humor and, in my humble opinion, a likable cast of characters, with sex, drama and a major twist planned for the end. The main character is a 36-year-old veterinarian who was widowed two years ago and is raising her teen daughter. She's rather addicted to sex but prefers to keep emotions out of it...until an intriguing new man enters her life. He’s cool toward her, and she can’t figure out why. Oh, and she sees the image of her husband as she orgasms. I'm planning on an early spring release.

I can't wait to read it, Tracy! Please come back to talk about your new book when it's released.

Excerpt from I Kill Me

This year would be Dick's and my first Christmas as separated husband and wife. Did Hallmark make a tree ornament for that? I could think of a few designs. Maybe a wedding ring split in two with a busty British massage therapist holding the pieces. There could be a big bruise under the massage therapist's eye from where the wife slugged her. The word separated always conjured up the image of a dismembered torso, with limbs scattered nearby. It felt pretty much like that.

But separated or not, Christmas was coming, and I was determined to make it a good one for the kids. This was what I kept in mind as the girls and I tromped through mucky brown fields of the tree farm to find a tannenbaum worth fighting over.

“Where’s all the snow?” Carli wanted to know. “Christmas is supposed to be white.”

Christmas is supposed to be a lot of things. “We still have two weeks. I’m sure we’ll get some,” I said, lacing my voice with optimism.

“We might not, though,” Lily responded. I threw her a don’t start look, but her head was turned toward a family cutting down a tree. A father, mother, son and daughter. The father was tall and handsome and smiled a lot. He’d probably gotten laid last night. The mother was petite and adorable in her fuzzy red hat and matching mittens. Even the tree was perfect: gargantuan, majestic. They undoubtedly had cathedral ceilings and a huge window in which to display the tree. They’d load the tree with expensive ornaments but would also proudly display the popsicle-stick-and-glitter stars the kids made in preschool. You could just tell.

Carli ran ahead to a tall evergreen. She undoubtedly had tree envy after seeing that family’s selection. “How about this one, Mumma?”

I shook my head. “Too big.” I glanced over at Lily, who was standing with her hands jammed in her pockets. “Come on, Lil...help us find one.”

She dipped her chin into the collar of her coat. “I’m cold.”

“Well, then, let’s find a tree and we can go.”

“Why didn’t we just get a fake tree?”
          
I could feel my jaw begin to tighten. Why was she making this so difficult? We always came to this tree farm. Couldn’t she understand I was just trying to keep things the same?  I forced myself to sound pleasant. “Because live ones are better.”

“But once you cut them down, they aren’t alive anymore. They’re dead. So we’re really bringing home something we killed.” She looked immensely pleased with herself.

I stared at her. I could hear the son of the Perfect Family asking politely if they could go get some hot chocolate. “Of course!” his perfect mother replied. “That’s the best part!”

“Come on, Carli,” I said. “I feel like killing something.”

I trudged to the next row of trees. “Do you girls see anything you like?”

Lily rolled her eyes and shrugged. Carli ran to a rather sparse-looking tree. “How about this one?”

“That one’s not full enough, honey.” I turned to see a couple in the next row standing by their selection. They looked like newlyweds. The wife stood back as her husband cut into the tree with the bow saw. Her eyes were glowing. There was something sexy about a man cutting down a tree: even a stocky guy with glasses like this one. He was probably going to get laid tonight. We stood watching him work the bow saw with quick, even strokes. The tree began to tip.

“Timberrrr...” I called. Lily and Carli looked at me like I had three heads. “That’s what they say,” I explained, “when they’ve cut down a tree and it’s falling and they want to warn people.”

Carli was puzzled. “Why don’t they just say, ‘look out, there’s a tree falling?”
I gritted my teeth. “Because that would take longer to say. They want people to get out of the way quickly.”

Carli was undaunted. “You could say it fast. Like ‘lookoutthere’satreefalling.’ Kids might not know what ‘timber’ means.”

“WhatEVER!” Lily exploded. “Just shut up!”

“LOOK,” I hissed. “We are getting a goddamned Christmas tree.”

The girls gaped at me.

“We’re getting this one.” I pointed to the tree closest to me.

“But some of the needles are orange,” Carli said hesitantly. “And it’s not very big.”

“It’s perfect,” I snapped.

Within minutes I was sawing away at the trunk with vicious cuts. Goddamned--sonofa--BITCH! The tree was mine. It began to lean. Breathing hard, I gave it a shove, looked at Carli and yelled, “Look out, there’s a tree falling!” Lily rolled her eyes. Carli stared at me, unblinking.

We headed back for the cabin with the murdered tree. We did not speak. Suddenly, a black and white cat darted in front of us. Carli twisted around to look and dropped her end of the tree. “Mumma, look! He’s so cute!”

We put down the tree and I walked to the next row where the cat had disappeared. “Kitty-kitty-kitty!” What was he doing on a tree farm? The owners leased the property but didn’t live there, and the closest neighborhood was some distance away. It must have been a stray. I continued searching.

“MOM!” Lily called. “Can we go?”

“I'm trying to find him,” I yelled back. “He shouldn’t be out here.”

I moved between the trees, taking slow, careful steps. Black tail with a white tip, snaking back and forth. He was huddled under a tree. I crouched down and reached for him very carefully. Lily yelled my name again just as my hand came in contact with the stray. He whipped around to face me...shit! I felt his needle-sharp claws sink into my wrist, in the space between my glove and coat. He bounded away through the brittle yellow grass.
I met up with the girls near the cabin. “Where’s the cat?” asked Carli.

“He took off.” Gingerly, I pulled back the edge of my coat sleeve to reveal the scratch. There were two half-inch gouges, deeper than I’d thought, and very red.

“Did he bite you, Mumma?” Carli leaned forward to peer at my wrist. “It looks like teeth marks.”

Now I was unsure. What if he had bitten me? If he was a stray, there was no telling what diseases he could be carrying. Toxoplasmosis, or cat scratch fever, or....rabies. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Wise Men, he could have rabies!

I gave Lily a little push in the direction of our car. “I need to pay for the tree. Take your sister to the car and I’ll be right out.”

“But can’t we have some hot chocolate?” Carli asked.
“No.”

“But that’s the best part!”

We are not the Perfect Family!

Buy the Book!
Amazon / Smashwords

About the author:

Tracy H. Tucker is first and foremost the mother of three of the best people on Earth. She has a Master's in Literacy from the University of Maine and has inspired the youth of America for seventeen years. She's an avid animal lover and would like to publicly thank her husband for putting up with the pet hair, the dogs in the bed, the things the cats hack up and the repeated requests for goats. It's a wonderful life.

Connect with Tracy:
Blog/ Facebook page/ Goodreads/ Twitter

Review of I Kill Me, Tales of A Jilted Hypochondriac

I recently had to make the difficult decision to stop doing reviews. Thankfully, I read and reviewed this book before that dreadful edict came down. In short, I highly recommend this book.

Maybe it's because I could relate to the main character, Christine, with her hypochondria and overbearing mother, or maybe it's because I love to laugh, and this book provides plenty of laugh out loud moments, or maybe it's because I like a good contemporary love story, or maybe it's all of the above...but I loved Tracy Tucker's I Kill Me.

Ms. Tucker takes us inside the head of a forty-something wife whose husband has just left her. To make matters worse, with every bump, scrape, or you name it symptom, Christine is certain she has a deadly disease. No, it shouldn't be funny and entertaining to be in a hypochondriac's head, and neither the author nor I am making fun of the very serious disorder, but Christine's thoughts are just flat out funny, and you can't help but like her. I found myself wishing she'd say out loud the things she was thinking about her idiot husband, but I still enjoyed her spunk in thinking them.

I'm also a fan of using dialect in novels, and the British accent Ms. Tucker gives one of the characters is spot on. I could hear her in my head perfectly, and even though the woman was annoying as all get out (in a good way), I loved reading her dialogue.

There are a few things I was hoping Christine, would achieve, and Ms. Tucker did not disappoint. I won't spoil the ending, because that makes people cranky, but I can't think of a more satisfying ending to this book than what the author gave us. I loved this whole book, but the ending? It is one of the best endings ever. I happily gave this book five stars.

Talking with Jade M. Phillips about MER

Jade M. Phillips is here today to talk about her new young adult fantasy/science fiction novel, MER, published by Kith Books.

About the book:
In a land where the sea grows restless, the summer breeze turns to ice and sleet, and Mother Nature has plans of another sort, dark and supernatural forces begin to unfold, fighting to unite the broken prophecy. In the midst of a tangled web lie the Castlecrays, a family with deep tragedy and mysterious secrets, who are torn apart and forced on a treacherous journey. Coming from a time when kings rule the realm, knights fight for honor, and eminence is power, the children of Castlecray are thrown into an unknown magical ambiance where nothing is as it seems, and bedtime stories come alive right before their eyes. Sweeping from a land of severe and savage seas to the sparkling underwater spires of a magical unknown world, this is a tale of lords and ladies, knights and nobility, traitors and trolls, who are all intertwined in a weaving maze of conspiracy and deception. Amidst gallantry and guilt, love and loss, the Castlecrays find their fate to be in the hands of their enemies, of each other, and of their new mysterious  allies, the Wavekeepers—all vying to keep the balance between good and evil, land and sea, in a fight for the ultimate desire; the power of MER.


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

I’ve been writing short stories, poetry, and music since I was in grade school, for almost twenty years now, but this is my first published novel. I started writing because of my best friend. She was really into poetry and that sparked an interest in me that never went away.

How did you come up with the title of your book?

This book has a secret. And I am going to give you some VIP information by telling you this...but if you couldn’t already tell by the title, its secret is Merpeople. The idea came from a couple different sources. First of all, my five year old daughter is obsessed with mermaids, so I guess there is always a mermaid floating around in the back of my brain. LOL!

Second, my husband and I were up late one night discussing the current trends in young adult fantasy books (my fave of course). We were talking about vampires and werewolves, zombies, and faeries, when I was like, “Wait! What about mermaids?” And thus: MER was born!

How would you describe your book in a tweet? (140 characters or less.)
MER, the new young adult fantasy series, is dark and magically gripping, sure to have you hooked!

Great! That's not easy to do. Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

A little bit of everything! I start with an outline, but as I go on the story and the characters take on a mind of their own. I am sometimes surprised on where the book leads me!

What is your favorite quote?

“Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” –Albus Dumbledore

That Albus was a wise man. How do you get to know your characters?

My characters are started with a vague idea, a thought in the back of my mind, a general age, sex, and a name. They then begin to develop personalities and traits on their own as the story progresses. I love how they sometimes say things that shock me! Haha!

Do you have a favorite of your characters?

That’s difficult because I love (or love to hate) all of my characters. But yes, I have a favorite. I’d have to say Quin. She’s a feisty, tomboyish ten-year-old girl who isn’t afraid to speak her mind; quite the contrary to the lady of nobility that she is expected to be. She cracks me up by always getting into trouble!

She sounds like my kind of girl. Which author would you most like to invite to dinner, and what would you fix him or her?

I would love to invite George R.R. Martin to dinner. Not only is he a fantastic writer, he is a great historian and fabulous person (from what I’ve seen of interviews). I would make chicken parmigiana, and hopefully not burn it.

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

I am currently absorbed in Laini Taylor’s Days of Blood and Starlight, the sequel to Daughter of Smoke and Bone, in e-book format. I would HIGHLY recommend these books, they are phenomenal!

Do you have a routine for writing? Do you work better at night, in the afternoon, or in the morning?

I am a lover of routines, but since I am a mother of two little ones who aren’t in school yet, I write whenever I can! That usually means at night after the kids are asleep, or on my husband’s days off I hand them over and bolt out the door to Starbucks, as quick as lightning, to get my write-on!

Where do you prefer to do your writing?

Starbucks is okay when necessary, but I really enjoy writing on my back porch, where I can hear the birds and see the trees. We have these comfy sofa-like chairs out there and I just grab my lap-top and a cup of hot tea and click away on the keyboard!

Do you ever get writer’s block? What do you do when it happens?

I throw things and curse a lot...*crickets*.
Haha! No, I’m kidding. I take breaks. A good walk helps me to clear my mind of all the stumbling blocks and refresh with new ideas.

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

Read. I LOVE to read. I love to play video games and have dance parties with my kids.

What are you working on now?

I am working on MER (volume 2) the second book in the MER series. It is going to be fantastic! I get goose bumps just thinking about it!

Good luck with it, Jade, and come back and tell us about it when it's out.

                                                                MER book trailer

About the author:

Jade M. Phillips, aside from being an author, can play guitar, do a frighteningly accurate portrayal of a spider monkey, and has the unique and magical ability to vanquish entire armies of snarling trolls with a flick of her pen.
When she is not writing about mystical creatures and lovable characters, she’s having nightly dance parties with her kids, blogging about whatever tickles her fancy at the moment, and testing new recipes on the stove (which coincidentally, usually ends up testing her smoke detectors as well).

Jade M. Phillips resides in Arizona with her husband, two children, and her crazy cat, William Wallace Braveheart Fuzzy McFarland the Third.

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Talking with Jennifer Comeaux

Jennifer Comeaux is the author of Edge of the Past, the sequel to Life on the Edge. Both are contemporary romance novels geared toward the teenage audience, published by Astraea Press.

About Edge of the Past:

Emily’s skating career and personal life have never been more golden. She and her partner Chris have won every competition they’ve entered this season, and she’s found the man of her dreams in her coach Sergei. But when one of the biggest competitions of the year takes Emily and Sergei to Russia, Sergei’s past explodes into the present and makes Emily doubt everything in their future.

Scroll down for an excerpt from the book!


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

I started writing when I was very young! I had a very active imagination, and I loved writing stories. I wrote my first “novel” when I was twelve. As I got older, my fiction writing took a back seat to school-related writing, and I didn’t write anything of substance again until three years ago. I had the idea for a romance between a skater and a coach, and one of my friends kept bugging me to write the story so she could read it. I felt so rusty when I first started, but then the words just flowed! That rough draft eventually turned into my first published novel, Life on the Edge.

How would you describe your book in a tweet? (140 characters or less.) 

Can true love survive the ghosts of the past?

Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write? 

I did a mixture of both for Edge of the Past. I had a very jumbled outline that I tried to follow, but many times I’d start working on a chapter and the characters would have different ideas! Even though I’m a very organized person in my day job as an accountant, I find that in my writing, I’m not a very structured plotter.

Did you have any say in your cover art? What do you think of it? Tell us about the artist. 

I love my cover! I’m very lucky that my publisher has an awesome artist, Elaina Lee, who is very receptive to feedback. She listened to my ideas and worked with me to create the perfect cover for the story.

I keep a running list of new names, and I even troll the obits for ideas. How do you name your characters? 

My main characters’ names just sort of came to me a long time ago. I liked the name Emily and thought it fit her personality. For many of the minor characters, I’ve been using the names of my friends’ children. The kids get a kick out of seeing their names in print!

If you could be one of your characters, which one would you choose? 

I would be Emily because I’d love to know what it feels like to be a champion skater – to feel like I’m flying over the ice. And she has a pretty amazing fiancé too!

With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck on a deserted island? 

I would most like to be stuck with Sergei because, well...he’s hot, haha! He’s also incredibly sweet, generous, and caring, so I think he’d be great if things got rough on the island.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book. 

My favorite scene in the book is one where Emily and Sergei get to spend some quality romantic time with each other after a rough couple of weeks. I love writing those romantic moments where I can really showcase the chemistry between them.

What song would you pick to go with your book?

I have a whole soundtrack for the book that you can find on my blog! One of the songs that’s closely tied in with the theme of the book is “Fall Away” by The Fray. The chorus of the song is “You fall away from your past but it’s following you.”

What are your favorite books or favorite authors?

a) as a child: Judy Blume
b) as a teenager Francine Pascal. I read every Sweet Valley High book I could get my hands on! I also loved her Caitlin series.
c) as an adult: I’ve really enjoyed Tammara Webber, Rachel Hawthorne and Stephanie Perkins.

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

I’m currently reading Summer Swing by Delia Delaney on my Kindle.

Where’s home for you?  
Home is right across the Mississippi River from New Orleans in an area called the West Bank. It’s been my home all my life!

If you could take a trip anywhere in the world, where would you go? (Don’t worry about the money. Your publisher is paying.)

I would go to Sochi, Russia for the 2014 Winter Olympics. I attended the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, and it was such an amazing event!

What are you working on now? 

I’m currently working on the third book in the EDGE series! It will wrap up Emily and Sergei’s journey and also tell Emily’s best friend Aubrey’s story, as they all prepare for the 2006 Olympics. I also just finished a short story that’s sort of an epilogue to Edge of the Past. It will be available as a free download in early 2013!

Great! I know your fans are anxiously awaiting the third book in the series. I hope you'll come back and tell us about it when it's out.

Excerpt from Edge of the Past

Mom’s eyebrows were still raised as she returned to her seat. I stayed standing and tapped Sergei’s arm. “Can we talk for a sec?”

I led him away from the table to a quiet spot near the entrance. A couple of Canadian ice dance coaches passed us, and we swapped brief hellos. I retreated further into the corner and looked up at Sergei.

“What was your dad angry about?”

Sergei rubbed the back of his neck and let out a frustrated sigh. “He wasn’t happy that he left work and now you’re not skating.”

I laughed dryly. “So, now he has something else to hold against me.”

“No, it’s not you.” Sergei touched my cheek. “He doesn’t even know you. It’s just him...and the way he is.”

“When you said he’s not a ray of sunshine, you weren’t joking. He didn’t even shake your hand.”

“He’s never been good at expressing emotion.”

“I’m sure glad you got your mom’s personality.” I tugged on the end of Sergei’s purple tie.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, but I could feel the tension in his body. What else could go wrong on this trip? With two days left in St. Petersburg and three more in Moscow, I was almost afraid to ask that question.



About the author:

Jennifer Comeaux earned a Master of Accounting from Tulane University and is a Certified Public Accountant in south Louisiana. When not working or writing, she is an avid follower of the sport of figure skating, traveling to competitions around the country. Those experiences allow her to see a different side of the sport and serve as an inspiration for her writing.

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Book Feature: Normal, with Author Janet Bettag

Normal is the true story of the author’s survival and recovery from a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. It poignantly and humorously addresses dealing with altered self-image, finding ways around barriers, and appreciating the play of serendipity and synchronicity in our lives.

Welcome, Janet. You have a fascinating story. How long have you been writing, and how did you start?

Technically, I started writing when I was about 9 years old. I did a newsletter for a youth group of which I was a member, and I’ve been writing ever since. However, I didn’t really start writing as a profession until 2010 when I started working on Normal and contributing feature articles to a golfing magazine. Funny thing, the articles I was assigned to write were very loosely related to the sport. I wrote about charitable organizations that derived benefit from golf outings, profiled the chef at an exclusive golf club, and wrote about a studio that handcrafts knives, pens, and golf accessories. At the publisher’s request, I even did a fun piece on the best places in the metro St. Louis area to shop for holiday gifts for golfers.

How did you come up with the title of your book?

The working title of the book was Normal Is So Overrated because that’s the conclusion my brain aneurysm support group came to after much discussion. Trying to return to normal after brain trauma is like trying to eat broth with a fork…it just keeps slipping away from you. I shortened the title to Normal after the cover art was designed because I felt that word paired with the image most accurately conveyed how I felt at the start of my journey.

Do you have another job outside of writing?

Not at this time. I recently retired from a municipal police department after serving for 17 years as the police chief’s administrative assistant, so I could focus on my writing.

How would you describe your book in a tweet? (140 characters or less.)

Got #brain #trauma? Read #NORMAL. True story of #author’s recovery from a #bleed. Sample here: NORMAL on Amazon

Why did you decide to write this book?

Normal is a book I tried for more than a decade not to write. Then a good friend pointed out to me that telling my story might make somebody else’s journey a little less difficult. I started reflecting on that suggestion and realized that without the support of other aneurysm survivors I might not have made such a great recovery. There’s a more complete explanation in the book, but the short version is that I wrote Normal to give support and encouragement to other survivors and their caregivers, to increase awareness of the condition, and to help raise funds in support of aneurysm research focused on patient support, early detection, and prevention of ruptures.

Excerpt from Normal:

Chapter 3 – Ghost in the Mirror

“We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey.”  –-Stephen R. Covey

Days and nights transposed themselves and faded one into the other. There was no distinction between dream and reality and only a thin curtain separated unconsciousness from awareness. A figure in a long, blue robe drifted across my field of vision. Were my eyes open? Was I seeing this phantasm or experiencing a fragment of some reverie?

As the fog of sleep lifted, I became acutely aware of the stranger walking silently through the room, seemingly unaware of my presence. Who are you? I arose and followed the figure down the hall and into the bathroom, but as soon as I stepped inside she vanished. Confused and frightened, I pushed aside the shower curtain. I was half expecting to hear the eerie, slashing violin notes from the Psycho shower scene and genuinely fearful of finding a maniac lurking there with a butcher knife.

The tub and shower were vacant. I was alone in the small room. Where did she go? Previously skeptical about all things paranormal, I didn't relish the possibility that I had seen a ghost; yet there seemed no other logical explanation.

While washing my hands I glanced up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I examined the cold and seemingly lifeless entity whose dull gray-green eyes stared back at me without a hint of recognition. Who are you?

The specter in the mirror was a startling and terrible vision. Staples formed a gleaming ‘C’ along a surgical wound above the left temple. A cross-stitch pattern of black sutures sealed an incision slashing across the neck. Approximately one-third of the head was shaved, exposing bare scalp. Mousy brown hair lay tangled, matted, and sinfully unwashed over the remainder. I quickly averted my gaze from this female version of Frankenstein’s monster who pretended to be me.

This was not the first time I had seen my own ghoulish reflection, but my previous glances were buffered somewhat by medications and my general lack of connection with anything outside myself. Somehow I didn’t know whether to be frightened, sad, or apathetic. That’s not me. I felt disconnected from the image staring blankly at me. Where am I? Simultaneously hoping and fearing that I would find the strange intruder, I wandered aimlessly through the house, blissfully unaware that something was amiss.

The next day I spotted the phantom again. The figure materialized in the bedroom just as I awoke. During the days that followed, she appeared to me more frequently. Eventually, she began haunting me elsewhere in the house. She never spoke to me, nor did I speak to her. I always followed her and she always vanished as though she had never really been there.

The encounters always ended the same way. I would follow her around until she entered one of the bathrooms and disappeared. It wasn’t as if she faded away. She was there one instant and gone the next. My awareness of her would dissolve the instant my eyes fixed on my own reflected image. Oddly enough, I don’t recall ever seeing the woman when there were other people present. It was as if she waited until I was alone and vulnerable to make her appearance. What had begun as curiosity became fear. Sensing some connection between the ghost and the face in the mirror, I became terrified that I was insane in addition to being brain-damaged. Thinking it was only a matter of time before I lost all concept of reality, I wasn’t about to tell anybody what I had been experiencing. In my irrational state, I was terrified that if I did so, I would be institutionalized.




About the author:

Janet Bettag is a career administrative professional and an award-winning writer. She is also a ruptured cerebral aneurysm survivor. Normal recounts with poignancy and humor the effort required to reconnect with reality and move forward in the weeks, months, and years following the life-altering event.

Her works include published magazine articles, short stories, book reviews, and paranormal fiction. Janet lives in O’Fallon, Missouri with her husband, Mike. She is currently writing a ghostly novel.



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Talking with J.L. Petty

 About the book:

Set in the fall of 2001 and purportedly based on actual events. Michael Devoe, journalist for the New York Times, is the victim of the most compelling evidences of disappearances ever documented in United States History. After a plane crash, Michael disappears one night during an encounter with an unexplained supernatural force. Authorities report that his body was never found.

About the author:

J.L. Petty is an author of several short stories. She published her first book, Death and the Journalist with Solstice Publishing, February 14, 2011. Her stories range in contemporary horror, suspense, science fiction, and fantasy fiction. Over the years, she’s written for various magazines and has been featured as an author in several anthologies. Petty discovered her love of writing at an early age and started working as a contributor for The Virginian-Pilot newspaper. After working with the local newspaper in her hometown, J.L. Petty embarked upon a career in entertainment journalism and also worked for United States Congress. She is currently working towards a Masters degree and resides in Virginia.


J.L., how long have you been writing, and how did you start?

I’ve been writing ever since I was 9 years old. My mother is a schoolteacher and writes children stories. She encouraged me at an early age to express myself through words.

What do you like best about writing?

I think the best part about writing is the creative process. I get inspired to write through watching horror movies. Sometimes, I may have a nightmare and just jot down ideas on my note pad.

What’s your least favorite thing?

My least favorite part about writing is editing. Sometimes I type so fast on my computer, I may make a lot of spelling errors and may have to go back and edit.

How would you describe your book in a tweet? (140 characters or less.)

Death and the journalist, A thrilling piece of work.

How did you create the plot for this book?

I had a dream about it once. I thought it would be cool to write a story about a journalist who comes face-to-face with death.

Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

Sometimes, I will do a character outline before I even get started on a story because it helps me to organize my thoughts so that I can portray each character accurately.

What do you do to market your book?

Sometimes, I speak at events or festivals. I also do guest blog posts and interviews on the Internet or for different literary magazines. Recently, my work was featured in Screem Magazine.

Tell us about your favorite scene in the book.

My favorite scene in the book is the plane crash scene. Most writers struggle with showing vs. telling. It’s a lot easier to just tell a story but very difficult to paint a picture. It was good practice for me and to see the final outcome, I was extremely proud of myself.

Who are your favorite authors?

Michael Crichton and Stephen King.

How do you handle criticism of your work?

I usually enjoy all feedback; regardless of whether it’s positive or negative. I usually take it with a grain of salt. I look at my writing as art, and everyone will have a different opinion about it. I write for me. If I like it and am satisfied with the body of work, then I am happy. I think readers are entitled to their opinion, and I respect it. But overall, my opinion is what matters most.


Do you have a routine for writing? Do you work better at night, in the afternoon, or in the morning?

I don’t have a routine when I write. I write when I feel inspired. I work better late at night. Usually I write when I can’t sleep. I may drink a soda and eat junk food while writing at my computer. That area of my house is so junky.

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