Jenni Keer interviews her characters

I am delighted to welcome Jenni Keer, author of The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker to The Heart of Romance today. 

I asked Jenni if she would agree to let her heroine Lucy, and her hero George interview her...and Jenni has come up with some fascinating and unexpected answers :-)


Thank you Jenni for giving us an insight to your connection with your characters, developed and the changes they faced, and how writing The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker became a three-way partnership. 

Jenni Keer is a history graduate who embarked on a career in contract flooring before settling in the middle of the Suffolk countryside with her antique furniture restorer husband. She has valiantly attempted to master the ancient art of housework but with four teenage boys in the house it remains a mystery. Instead, she spends her time at the keyboard writing women’s fiction to combat the testosterone-fuelled atmosphere with her number one fan #Blindcat by her side. Much younger in her head than she is on paper, she adores any excuse for fancy-dress and is part of a disco formation dance team.

Thanks for inviting me on your blog Sherry. It’s wonderful to be here. I love your approach – asking me to interview Lucy and George from “The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker”. It has produced some interesting answers and made me think. So without further ado, I shall interview them and see what they say...

Why did you want Jenni to write your story?

Lucy: I wanted my story to be told first and foremost because I needed to tell the world about Brenda, and for others to hear about our very special relationship. She is my elderly neighbour and my best friend. Our relationship is uncomplicated and she wants the best for me. More than with anyone else, I can be myself with her. Her calm and wisdom complement my vitality and youth. It’s a relationship that benefits us both. I am also proud of how I grew in confidence over the course of the story and, of course, fell in love. All things that make for an interesting tale.

George: I would add that Brenda was key to everything that happened to us. She even helped to change me – without her I’d still be a grumpy loner! We owe her a lot. I was pleased that Jenni wrote our story because she did so with humour – and a lot of funny things happened as I got to know Lucy. I think humour is important in life because if you can take a bad situation and laugh about it, it is much more manageable.

Did you get tough with your author?

Lucy: Of course! Because I am the total opposite to Jenni, it was hard for her to write some scenes and she had to think carefully about how I would react, and not how she would react. For example, I put up with a lot at my place of work. Jenni is a more confident person and would have high fived some of my colleagues – in the face – with a chair! Jenni also kept forgetting I liked tea because she doesn’t drink it very often – she’s more of a coffee girl. I think she found it tricky to remember how different we were. I also happen to know she doesn’t like it when bad things happen to good people so I had to remind her to ramp up the tension in the story.

George: I know she had to rewrite a lot of my dialogue to ensure my monosyllabic nature came across. As a wordy girl, she had to trim some of my sentences. I do speak more now. Lucy and Brenda helped me open up.

How hard was it to share your deepest secrets with Jenni?

Lucy: It was hard admitting my relationship with my mother. I love her but have always felt a poor second best to my sister, Emily. I had carried that with me for so long and it had a negative impact on my confidence and goals. The saddest thing is I think it was my mother’s own failure to achieve that meant she praised my sister and chided me. I guess she was living her dreams through Emily.

George: Without giving away spoilers, I was carrying around some baggage. It was hard to share this with Lucy, so even harder to share with Jenni. I think she did a good job tough, and perhaps it will help people to understand why I was so withdrawn to start with.

What character quirks are you pleased that Jenni wrote about?

Lucy: I love that she talked about my knitting. It’s unusual for someone my age

but knitting is growing in popularity with younger people again. I think it emphasises that I am different from a lot of my peers, but it also gave me a skill I was proud of. Have you seen my knitted Poldark! He’s become legendary.

George:  My allergies became more and more important as the story went on. It was a great touch because Scratbag, a local stray, just wouldn’t leave me alone, and I am the last person in the world who would go near a cat. But then cats are curious creatures. And very contrary…

Book blurb
Meet Lucy, aged 25, and Brenda, aged 79. Neighbours, and unlikely friends.

Lucy Baker is not your usual 25-year-old. She is more at home reading and knitting in her cluttered little flat than going out partying and socialising.

79-year-old Brenda is full of wise and wonderful advice, but when she’s diagnosed with dementia her life begins to change. Before her memories slip away for ever, Brenda is desperate to fulfil one last wish – to see Lucy happy.

Gifting Lucy the locket that helped Brenda find her own true love, she hopes to push her reticent neighbour in the right direction. But is Lucy Baker ready for the opportunities and heartbreaks of the real world? It’s about time she put her knitting needles aside and found out…

The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker will be the most charming, heart-warming and feel-good novel you will read this year, perfect for fans of Ruth Hogan and Gail Honeyman.

Thank you for inviting me over to your blog, Sherry. I’ve enjoyed your take on the author interview.

You are very welcome Jenni, and thank you for sharing a fascinating insight into Lucy and George.

Facebook JenniKeerWriter

Twitter @JenniKeer

Instagram jennikeer

Website jennikeer.co.uk

Buying link http://bit.ly/JKHopes

Available in eBook or paperback formats

If you'd like to Meet Jenni in person she is visiting 
 Diss Publishing Bookshop
on April 13th
For more information visit...
https://www.facebook.com/events/2759420950950939/

Author Spotlight ~ Amy Mullen

Author Bio
Amy Mullen is a freelance writer and romance author living in Corning, NY, with her husband, Patrick, her two children, and an orange cat named Steve. She has written two medieval romances called A Stormy Knight and Redefining Rayne.

Amy has been writing about love both lost and regained since she was old enough to have her first broken heart. Her love of history and her intermittent jaunts into amateur genealogy led her to a love affair with writing historical fiction. When not writing, she snaps pictures, gets nutty over football, enjoys the company of her family, and when time allows, loves to bury her nose in a good book.

She can be found online at www.authoramymullen.com or www.facebook.com/authoramymullen.

What Authors Wish For

Okay, so I won’t speak for every writer out there – just myself. People have asked me what I think could be the best moment in my career as an author. What means the most to me? What moment could I have that would allow me to stop and think it won’t get any better than this? Would it be hitting the New York Times bestseller list? Selling a million copies? A multi-million dollar contract? A movie based on one of my books?

Those would all be great, of course, but I think my best moment already came and went. See, while money is great and you won’t catch me saying no to any of the above (a girl can dream, right?) none of these are what I would consider a defining moment – at least not the defining moment. Mine came just a few days ago and I will never forget it.

My grandfather, Oliver, is in his mid-80s. My grandmother, Elizabeth, passed a few years ago. I don’t know what would have become of me had I not had their unconditional love and support. My grandfather was a farmer, now retired, and worked hard. He never complained. He worked every day, but occasionally took a week off for vacation. I don’t even remember him getting sick, though I am sure he did.

He never yelled. He never had to say a word. Just the thought of letting him down was soul crushing, so you made sure you didn’t. He is the kind of man that quietly makes a decision and that is that. He will encourage you to clean up your own messes, yet he will help you when he knows a situation is beyond what you can do on your own. He is the kind of man you thank God for every day. There are few like him left in my life, and I know I have been blessed to have him as my grandfather.

So, how do you honor such a man? For me, it was dedicating my first book to him and my grandmother. It was naming a character after him. My book went into print just a few weeks ago. I was finally able to hand him a copy and show him the dedication inside. That moment, for me, is what makes it all worthwhile. And while I said I cannot speak for other authors, I would be willing to bet many have an answer like mine – one you might not expect. The quiet, more personal moments are the ones that count the most.

My grandfather finished reading my book in a few days. He said it was hard to put down. If he did manage to put it down, he had to hurry up and get back to it.

And I am forever humbled.

Tag Line: Will her most painful secret be the key to her greatest joy?

Blurb:

Rayne de Latham, cousin to King William Rufus, should be enjoying a life of privilege. Instead, she has only known misery. Her disastrous first marriage yielded nothing but pain, suffering, and three stillborn children. She believes she is cursed and is certain another pregnancy will end in another tragedy. When the king seeks to get rid of her by sending her to marry one of his knights, she will do just about anything to get out of her betrothal.

Widower Andre de Grelle is father to two small boys who came to him by marriage. When his first wife jumps off the castle walls in a fit of madness, he keeps the boys he has grown to love as his own. When king sends him a new bride, the lovely but troubled Rayne, he vows to have more patience with her than he had with his first wife.

Once Rayne arrives at Cuxton Castle, Andre realizes there is much more to her than meets the eye. She does everything she can to force him to send her away, but nothing works. Frustration grows as Andre discovers his betrothed is hiding something from him about her past, something so devastating she cannot speak the words out loud.

In the midst of a siege on nearby Pevensey Castle, a truth comes to light that changes everything. As the real story of Rayne’s past emerges, lives change forever. Will love be enough, or will it be easier to walk away?

Excerpt:

Andre moved closer to her. His body was mere inches from hers as he lifted his other hand and slowly tilted her face toward his. Cupping her cheek, he wiped away a tear with his thumb. "You have no idea how fascinating you are," he whispered. 

Involuntarily, her eyes closed and she tilted her chin up. She felt his soft lips brush hers and she started to tremble. The short, light touch of his mouth stirred something in her. A young maiden's dream of love, of being loved and cherished, welled up from a place where she had hidden her hopes a long time ago. She returned his kiss, but just for a moment. 

Her eyes flew open, and she pulled her head back. This was all wrong. This was not how this was supposed to happen. In a rush to break the spell, she stammered out the first thing she thought of, "Someone will see us! Odo may come." 

An expression of disbelief washed across his features and was replaced by irritation. "Odo? What has he to do with this? He is my guest but hardly has a say in what I do with you." 

"You…" she stumbled over her words, "you… he is your…" 

Andre stood and stepped away from her. He stared down at her, but she could no longer read his face. "Do your affections lie with Odo, Lady Rayne?"

Redefining Rayne by Amy Mullen

Published by Astraea Press

Medieval Romance

Buy Links:   Amazon 

Barnes and Noble    Astraea Press

 

Margay shares some of her best Thanksgiving Memories



Photo by Jean Joachim

 I have so many wonderful Thanksgiving memories, it would hard to pick just one to relate. So, instead, I’d rather talk about the essence of the day. From my earliest memory of the day, it was always about two things: family and the food. It was the one day out of the year that you could eat whatever you wanted and as much as you wanted without fear of being ridiculed by anyone. In fact, if you didn’t eat much, people would ask if you were sick!

My best memories of Thanksgiving revolve around family. I come from a large one, so there was always a lot of noise, chaos, love and happiness filling the house from the moment we all woke up to the moment we all went down for naps when the triptofan kicked in! I remember gathering around the television set to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while Mom prepared a feast in the kitchen – a tradition we still observe today. Thanksgiving just doesn’t feel the same if you don’t have the parade on while you’re cooking! I remember being transfixed by the amazing floats and cartoon character balloons, and waiting with much anticipation for the arrival of Santa Claus at the end of the parade. For that usually meant that it was time to eat! I don’t know how my mother managed it, but she always timed it just right!

And then there was the food. The turkey, the stuffing, mashed potatoes, turnip, squash – and that was just the main course! While we waited for that, there was a bowl of mixed nuts, dates stuffed with peanut butter and rolled in sugar, celery stuffed with cream cheese or peanut butter, and several different types of pickles. Then there were the pies – pumpkin, apple, pecan – and breads and rolls, all washed down with apple cider and/or egg nog.

All in all, it was the one time of year when we could just sit down together and truly be thankful for all that we had and for all that was yet to come.

Author Bio:
Descended from the same bloodline that spawned the likes of James Russell, Amy and Robert Lowell, Margay Leah Justice was fated to be a writer herself from a young age. But even before she knew that there was a name for what she was doing, she knew one thing: She had a deep and unconditional love for the written word. A love that would challenge her in times of need, abandon her in times of distress, and rediscover her in times of hope. Through her writing, Margay has learned to cope with every curve ball life has thrown her, including the challenges of single parenting, the harsh realities of living in a shelter, coping with the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, and the roller coaster ride of dealing with a child who suffers from bipolar disorder and Asperger’s Syndrome. But along the way she has rediscovered the amazing power of words.
Margay currently lives in Massachusetts with her two daughters, two cats, and a myriad of characters who vie for her attention and demand that their own stories be told.

Blurb:
For more than a hundred and fifty years, the gray wolf has failed to roam the hills of Massachusetts, leading to the belief that they are extinct. But with a spattering of sightings across the Berkshires, the legend of the gray wolf comes to fruition. The product of that legend, Micah Sloane will go to great lengths to protect his kind from the threat of outsiders, who seek to exploit the legend for their own interests. One thing he didn’t count on, however, was finding his soul mate in the company of such men.

From the first time she predicted a stranger’s imminent death when she was little more than a child, Shiloh Beck knew she was different. Wishing to cultivate her gift, her parents made the fateful decision to enroll her in a private school for paranormally gifted children. Unbeknownst to them, the school was just a front for a research facility simply called the Institute, whose secret board members weaned gifted children from their families to exploit their gifts. Shiloh has spent the better part of her life trying to escape the Institute and reunite with the family she was told had abandoned her.

From their first meeting, Micah and Shiloh share a connection that goes beyond the normal to bond them in a way that love alone cannot. But before they can build a life together, they must deal with the fall-out when the legend of the wolves collides with the men behind the Institute.

Sloane Wolf is available here:
http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=242&category_id=107&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1&vmcchk=1&Itemid=1

 Margay Leah Justice, http://margayleahjusstice.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/MargayLeahJustice


https://twitter.com/#!/Margay

Thank you Margay, for sharing your wonderful memories with us.

Join Cate while she explains why "Contemporary romance rocks!"

Contemporary romance rocks!

What makes a contemporary romance really rock? Rock music of course! *grins* Shakespeare said it: if music be the food of love, play on. And rock music’s always been the soundtrack to my formative years and beyond, so it seemed a perfect setting for a romance story.

I’m so excited that Rock Bottom released June 20 from Lyrical Press: http://www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=81&products_id=405
Lyrical Press is discounting new releases 30%, so I wanted to mention it's a great time to get a copy. :)

This was one of those stories that almost wrote itself, and I only took dictation. Okay, so it wasn’t quite that easy! But the characters were so vivid, I only needed to explore their lives and tell their story (and then revise revise revise, lol). But this hero and heroine made it such fun, I didn’t mind a bit.

Here’s the blurb:
For rocker Jet Trently, success means playing the same platinum-selling hits over and over. Philly rock journalist Billie Prescott thrives on covering the latest releases. When her editor sends her to Malibu to cover Jet’s reality dating show, Rock Bottom, her blog’s success keeps her trapped there. Her life’s at Rock Bottom too, until she hears Jet’s new songs. They touch her heart as his music did when she was 15. When Jet touches her heart as well, will the reality show ruin the real thing?

And the trailer:


And an excerpt:
The cottage appeared tiny from the outside, but actually had two stories if the bedroom loft counted. A boomerang-shaped overstuffed sofa dominated the main floor, and cabinets topped with bookshelves lined either wall. In a small nook sat a ceramic-topped iron bistro table and two chairs.

As cozy as a beach getaway.

She swung her carryon bag atop the tufted ottoman. Turning to retrieve her suitcases, she stopped short.

Jet leaned against the doorway. If his presence had been palpable in the house, he overwhelmed this small space.

His lopsided smile appeared almost shy. “Need any help settling in?”

The personal touch. If he hoped to make it literal, he could forget it. Despite her resolve, she found him overwhelmingly distracting. She had trouble recalling what she’d planned to do.

Glancing around, she thought she’d be pretty pathetic if she claimed to need help. “Nope, I think I can find everything.”

Stepping inside, he closed the door and moved toward her slowly. Purposefully.

Her pulse quickening, she tensed, but couldn’t find her voice to ask what he wanted.

He touched the cabinet. “There’s a small fridge under here. I’ll have Cindy stock it for you.”

Nodding, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Great. Thanks.” She felt sure he must hear her heart pounding. And think her an idiot. “It’s an adorable little place. You’re saving the magazine a bundle by letting me stay here.”

When he moved closer, his crystal blue eyes felt like a laser piercing her own.

To clear her head, she turned away. “It’s situated perfectly too. Right next to the house.” Could she possibly sound any more brainless?

She sensed him directly behind her. His soft tone made her muscles go fluid. Her eyes drifted shut, imagining his famous voice singing to her alone.

“If you look out your bedroom window, you can see into mine. Right over there.” His arm lifted beside her and pointed.

His warmth penetrated her skin. He smelled like ocean and musk. An impulse struck her to guide his arm around her, fit herself against him. Fill her senses with him.

Snapping to reality, she fumed at his flirting, but made her voice sweet as honey. “Oh, over there? I appreciate you telling me.” Smiling, she turned. “I’ll be sure to keep my curtains closed.”

Tensing, he straightened, and his nostrils flared.

Her muscles drew taut in response. You shouldn’t have made him mad--not the first day.

But his eyes crinkled at the corners, and he cocked his jaw and nodded. “Billie Prescott.” He said her name with a kind of wonder.

Not quite knowing what to make of it, she gave a giddy laugh. And wanted to die. “Jet Trently. We finally meet.” As though she’d been waiting. Or it had been prearranged. By whom? The universe?

To recover her composure, she went to her bag and pulled out her laptop. “Any internet connection in here?”

He flopped onto the sofa and extended his arms across the back. “Wireless, pretty much from everywhere.” With a kind of amused curiosity, he watched her. “We need to talk.”

Her mind blanked. The way he spoke sounded so intimate, as if he wanted to discuss their relationship. His gaze seared into her, and she had trouble remembering they had no relationship. “About what?”

His mouth curled into a smile. “The show. Don’t you want to interview me?”

She felt her face flush. He played a cat and mouse game. And he’d trapped her already.

Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, on Facebook, Goodreads and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Cate loves to hear from readers! Email her at: cate.masters AT gmail.com

Cate Masters explains why "Every woman is a goddess!"

Every woman is a goddess!

At least, every woman should be treated like one! That’s the premise of my new series, The Goddess Connection. In each book, the heroine will be somehow connected to a goddess. Her lifelong quirks will become strengths once she finds her true place in the world, and accepts herself for who she really is. Something every woman should do!

The first novel to kick off this series is The Magic of Lavender, available at Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Magic-Lavender-Goddess-Connection-ebook/dp/B005237580/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1306147122&sr=1-1

and Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/61378

In The Magic of Lavender, the heroine Jocelyn Gibson doesn’t become aware of her family ties to the realm of magic, or to the Goddess Iris, until she buys an old bed and breakfast. All she wants is a quiet life, preparing special dishes made with lavender, but before she can have it, she has to first deal with a few demons and goddesses. How could she know the inn sat atop powerful ley lines that would cause a battle to erupt between the forces of dark and light?

Here’s the trailer:


Blurb:
Jocelyn Gibson forgot about the realm of magic. But it never forgot her. Gram always told her: don’t ignore your magical gifts, it will insult the family. But Joss didn’t realize her gifts included channeling the energy of powerful ley lines. Or that her family included a goddess. Family connections come in handy when the Lord of the Underworld kidnaps local vet Eric Hendricks. He’s an amazing lover, but Joss didn’t know she loved him until too late. With a little help from the Goddess Iris, Joss defends the new life she’s forged, and helps save the town of Boiling Springs from destruction. Once Eric escapes Hell, can she stop loving him to keep him safe?

Excerpt:
Feeling useless, he poked at the logs in the fireplace. The flames leapt higher, and he crouched to stare into the fire. He should be used to it by now—the fact that everyone had a family to share the holidays with. Everyone but him. And Joss. His awareness of her heightened to a sharp keenness. He tried to dredge up a memory of Karen, but the vivid image of Joss in the kitchen blotted it out. He shouldn’t just sit here. He should go home. But then Joss would be left to finish up all alone.

As if in a dream, he moved to the kitchen doorway. “Need any help?”

Dishes and food warmers crowded the counters. She glanced over and flashed a humorless smile. “No, I’m fine.”

Then why didn’t she sound fine? She sounded upset. He moved closer, needing to do something, anything, to erase whatever pained her.

She fumbled containers into the fridge. “Why don’t you go relax? You’re welcome to put on a new CD, maybe sit by the fire. Before you go home.”

He didn’t want to do any of those things. He stood dangerously close, fighting the urge to touch her hair, run his hands down her back.

With wide eyes, she averted her gaze, her body tense as she moved to the sink, picked up the towel and dried a glass. “It’s supposed to dip into the twenties tonight, so if you need to get going now, then—”

He slipped the towel from her hand. “I live three minutes from here.”

"Right.” She slid her gaze away, but turned toward him, opening to him. To the possibility of him. “But the snow…”

Only inches away, the heat from her body zapped the slate of his mind clean. He operated on impulse. On need.

In a breathless rush, she asked, “Did you enjoy your meal?”

“Mm hm.” Every course of the meal brought his taste buds to life as never before. His senses still vividly alive, he traced her collar bone with one finger.

“Eric…” She inclined her head toward his hand.

The motion, slight as it was, made his pulse race. Hearing her murmur his name ignited his senses. His heart revved in his chest like a race car engine ready to explode from the startling line. “Don’t send me away. Please.” He touched his lips to her forehead, then her nose.

Her breath smelled of coffee and cranberries, and something more enticing—herself. “You’re making it difficult to, but…”

His mouth hovered near hers, just out of reach. “Don’t say no,” he whispered.


The honey gold of her hair caught the light, and she appeared illuminated from within. Parting her lips enticingly, she searched his face.

It wasn’t a no. It was enough of a maybe that he closed the space between them. The feel of her soft lips and sweet-tasting tongue moving against his made him shudder with tantalizing release.

You can find more info at: http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2009/05/magic-of-lavender-contemporary.html

Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters AT gmail.com

Cate Masters talks about "A little wrong can make it right"

It is my pleasure to welcome Cate Maters to THoR for the next four days.

A little wrong can make it right
Did you ever love someone despite everyone’s warnings and objections that “s/he’s all wrong for you!” I did. In fact, I married him! And this November, we’ll celebrate our 34th wedding anniversary. *grins*
Maybe that’s what inspired me to write Just the Right Amount of Wrong. I had been working on this story, off and on, for several years, and finally hit the right combination. The title came to me in a flash, and then I reassembled the story to fit in various elements – a Latino hero, an interesting story about an agricultural experiment in a small North Carolina town.

And so, Just the Right Amount of Wrong came together, hopefully in the right way, lol. It’s steamier than what I usually write – these two knew exactly what they wanted, and that was each other!

Here’s the blurb:

All wrong? That’s what Sara Mullaney’s parents always said about Ravelo Pena. She’s starting to believe it. After dumping her years ago, he’s back in town. And threatening to ruin her business plan designed to help local farmers. When he’s fired for trying to help her, she realizes he’s still the same old Rav. And she’s finding it hard to keep her hands off him. Can the right amount of wrong make the perfect combination?

And an excerpt:

He steered onto a gravel road that climbed a long hill. A blacktop driveway stretched toward a secluded A-frame log home. It could hardly be called a cabin. Its tall windows reached several stories high. A generous deck wrapped around it, with an opening for the stairs leading from the parking area. Sunlight poured through gaps in the clouds and through the branches of towering evergreens surrounding the house.

She felt her mouth gaping, and snapped it shut. “You live here?” His job must pay better than I thought.

“Yep, for now. Me and Frodo.”

“Your roommate’s a hobbit?” she deadpanned.

He pulled the keys from the ignition. “A cat, actually.”

Assessing the stairs ahead, she frowned. “But there are too many steps. You should have just taken me home.”

“You need to stay off that foot. Keep it propped up. You need me,” he said softly, “to take care of you.”

Right. Because he had a sudden protective urge? Probably brought on by his business proposition.

His smug smile as he climbed out irked her, but she couldn’t fault him for her injury. The blame lay squarely on herself. She’d always made an idiot out of herself around him. So focused on him, she couldn’t see where she was going. Just like today.

Just the Right Amount of Wrong is available on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Just-Right-Amount-Wrong-ebook/dp/B0050W9P9A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1305466976&sr=1-1

and Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/59805

You can see the Casting Call (who I envisioned in these roles, a very fun blog series I started), and read the first chapter on my blog. http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-right-amount-of-wrong-contemporary.html

Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters AT gmail.com

Rejection Letters and what you can to do with them

Rejection Letters

What can I say about these? Even after all the years that I have been writing it still feels like the ultimate kick in the backside. No one likes working every hour god sends on their manuscript, editing it until their cross eyed, only to receive a ‘Thanks, but no thanks letter.

So, what do you do when your work is rejected? Well, years ago I used to cry like a baby. And that’s not a joke! It’s fine to feel emotional. No one really understands the pressure your under. Not unless they are a writer themselves. Here is where your writer’s groups/loops become a handy tool. Here you can vent your feelings, and they will all understand and commiserate. When an editor says they hated something that took you months, even years to perfect, it is okay to feel bad. But let’s not dwell in the pits of despair for too long, because remember, when you receive a rejection letter, it puts you firmly in the league of “real writers”. You wrote a book! Congratulate yourself. Millions have tried and failed. Now you have just entered a whole new world.

A lot of new writers make the mistake of not writing ever again. What a waste of a talent. There are thousands of writers who have been rejected over and over again, only to eventually find the right editor whom loves their work. I for one had a letter of rejection for my book The heart of a warrior in one hand and a gushing acceptance in the other. There are successful authors who wrote for years and years before they get their ‘call’. Catherine Cookson, Joanna Trollope, J.K Rawlings to name but a few.

So learn from the rejection? Evaluate it for what it is. It is NOT a slur on your family name, your character, your first born baby! Read what the editor/agent said about your work. If it’s a bog standard rejection letter, you probably won’t get much feedback. So then you just file in the container marked ‘bin’ and move on. BUT, if you are lucky to get feedback, do take them seriously. Editors and agents don’t have time to heap false praise on someone that is not on their listings. But if one has taken time to give you detailed feedback of any kind, it means something about your story or your writing touched them. Well done.

Also, sit up and take notice if an editor asks to see more of your work. If they say they’d like to see your manuscript again if you make some changes, drop everything, make them and send it back. QUICKLY! Same thing if they ask to see something else from you. Do it. Send it. . They don’t ask for more work lightly.

Writing is a minefield. Occasionally we will get blown up, sometimes get stomped on from other authors who have a hidden agenda to murder you. Other times, we will just get down about the whole thing. It will pass, we can and do, mend ourselves. Without us, the world will never get to see those stories that touch the imagination, melt the heart or just get the pulses racing.

If you have any ideas on how to deal with rejection letters post here with your web addy and I’ll put your comments on my writer’s blog.
http://margaretparanormalromanceauthor.blogspot.com/

Buy Abigail Cottage in e-book and print HERE

Publisher: www.hedge-witcherybooks.com

My links:
www.margaretwest.net
http://magsx.blogspot.com/
http://margaret-paranormalromanceauthor.blogspot.com/

 
 
 
 
Blurb:
 
When Abigail falls in love with Justin she can’t begin to know the world of hurt she is heading into. Gorgeous, kind, rich – he’s the man we all dream to meet. BUT, all is not what it seems because Justin is a true demon from hell, disguised as a mortal being. He wants her and will do, kill or maim anyone who tries to stop him. Namely Shaun the real hero, who wants Abigail more! So what does a mortal man do against a demon? He enlists the help of a gypsy of course. But not any old gypsy. Rosa knows Justin very well and has the powers of the spirit world on her side to fight him. Using crystals as a powerful weapon, the light of the spirit world to lead them, they embark on a battle with the whole of the underworld. Many loved ones will lose their lives. This isn’t a book where everyone survives. In real life, bad things happen. In Abigail Cottage, terrible tragedies occur too. Believe... not every story can have a happy ending.

Today Kim -the editor- explains why 'Variety is the Spice of Writing'

Variety is the Spice of Writing

As an editor, I can tell you repetition is a HUGE pet peeve. H-U-G-E. It’s a HUGE mistake for a writer to make. It causes a HUGE distraction and takes away from the story when an author uses a word or a phrase repeatedly. HUGE no-no. HUGE. Don’t do it. Did I mention it’s a HUGE mistake? Do you get the point?

I thought I had, until I got the first round of edits back on my novella Wayward Soul. Here’s just one paragraph from my book (too embarrassed to post more than that). Notice all the green highlights?

The contemptuous voice raked across her tormented soul, turning her dazed anguish to blazing wrath. She came up swinging. The lycan didn’t move fast enough to avoid her. She raked her nails down both sides of his face drawing blood. She clawed and scratched digging her fingers so deep, she broke a nail. He stumbled back a few steps, screaming and cursing, and then he rammed his hands against her chest sending her sprawling on the floor.

In this one paragraph, I used the word HER seven times and the word SHE four times. WOW! I hadn’t even realized it. My mouth fell open when I saw all the green highlights. Are you sitting down? In a 17,000 word novella, I had used the word HER around 600 times and the word SHE about 400. One thousand words! I don’t even want to tell you how long those edits took me. But check out the end result.

The contemptuous voice raked across Zanna’s tormented soul, turning her dazed anguish to blazing wrath. She came up swinging. The lycan didn’t move fast enough to avoid the nails raking down both sides of his face drawing blood. Her fingers clawed and scratched, digging so deep a nail broke. He stumbled back a few steps, screaming and cursing, and then he rammed his hands against Zanna’s chest sending her sprawling on the floor.

Look how much stronger my voice is in the second paragraph. When you continually use the same word or phrase, it takes away from the story. People “tune you out”. They stop reading or paying attention.

If you take nothing else away with you from my visit on Sherry’s blog, take this: If you continually use the same word or phrase over and over, it will bore your reader. Learn to let the FIND function be your BEST FRIEND when it comes to editing and creating a strong manuscript. Pick some words from your first chapter, specifically ‘be’ verbs, pronouns, adverbs, and insert them in the FIND box and then Highlight them. Let’s just take the word SLOWLY for example. If in a novella you’ve used this word more than a handful of times, you’ve used it too much and you need to find some alternatives. Just this exercise of running a few words through FIND will improve your manuscript tenfold.

Now I’m not saying to avoid repetition. There are times when it adds to a story. The best example is the opening of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities in which the word WAS appears eleven times. Powerful. I’m talking about when it’s unintentional (as with my novella) and, therefore, weakens your story. Search your manuscript with a fine tooth comb looking for any words, phrases, and/or punctuation marks that you overuse and find an alternative.

So what’s your “Achilles’ heel” of writing? What’s the one writing habit you can’t break?

Wayward Soul blurb:
When Zanna Seoul accidentally causes the death of a fellow spirit guide’s charge while trying to save the life of the man she loves, she is stripped of her position and banished to Earth to die. In the spirit world, one doesn’t mess with what’s written. With Zanna no longer guiding him and his memory of her erased, Owen Nash is left wide open as the target of the vengeful spirit guide who feels he’s been wronged. A guide who also happens to be a werewolf. Once on Earth, Zanna refuses to stand by and watch Owen die, so she intervenes again, setting off a chain of events that could mean death for all of them if she doesn’t go back and undo the mess she’s made. Can Zanna succeed before the werewolf does?

BIO:
Kim Bowman lives in Indiana, where she was born and raised. For the past eleven years, she has been married to her best friend, Tony. She has four wonderful, awesome children. Three she was lucky enough to inherit from her husband and one she was given by the grace of God. They live on a small farm with two of their four kids, five horses, and two dogs. Kim works as an editor for Evernight Publishing and indulges in her passion of writing when she can.

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Buy Wayward Soul HERE ~ HERE ~ HERE

Please come back tomorrow when Kim Talks about Comma Chameleon

PoV Pop Quiz

PoV Pop Quiz

We’ve discussed point of view (PoV), what it is and how it works, over the past two days. Let’s take this discussion from theory to a practical pop quiz. Below are several paragraphs written in third person deep PoV, each containing an accidental break. See if you can find all of them.

The answers are at the end, so no peeking.

Here’s the first one, “borrowed” from the rough draft of Kay Springsteen’s upcoming sweet romance, Elusive Echoes:

“Ry’s got me on babysitting duty tomorrow morning.” Sean swirled his beer, keeping his gaze on the amber liquid sloshing against the edges of the mug. Mel gripped the towel beneath her folded hands more tightly. She’d likely need it soon.

That one’s pretty simple, though, isn’t it? Let’s try something a little tougher. This is from a previous draft of my upcoming historical mystery, Deal with the Devil:

The German officer’s earlier anger had drained, leaving his brown eyes clear, and Clarke knew he wasn’t imagining the touch of derision now in their depths.

Remember, anything that’s not from the leading character’s perspective, anything he or she wouldn’t naturally think about, qualifies as a break in deep PoV.

Let’s try another. This is also from Deal and it’s pretty similar to the preceding one:

For one crazy moment, Clarke believed he had known this man at some point in their past, that he had only to sweep away his agitation to remember a more innocent age. But of course that was impossible.

Here’s one final example. This one I’m creating off the top of my head, but it’s a commonly seen error:

“You don’t want to mess with me,” Luke said, a hint of menace in his voice.

Feel free to discuss these in the comments if you like.

Or you can read the answers after the blurb and excerpt.

Blurb:

In August 1940, German Army Major Faust is unexpectedly captured by the English and he must escape before they break him. But every time he gets away, a woman is raped and murdered, and the English are looking for someone to hang. Faust must catch the killer, even though he’s helping the enemy—even though he’s making a Deal with the Devil.

Excerpt:

Stoner withdrew his silver cigarette case from his breast pocket and lit up, too, leaving the case open on the desk. “Well. Let us review your situation, shall we? First, you have readily admitted you serve in the Wehrmacht, not the Luftwaffe.”

Faust paused, uncertain where Stoner was leading him. “That’s right.”

Stoner tilted his head. “I was not aware German Army officers crewed Air Force warplanes.”

He winced. Should he try to bluff something here? No, the intelligence lectures he had mostly slept through had repeatedly emphasized never lie to an interrogator, and although he couldn’t recall why, there had to be a good reason. “We don’t.”

“So we have immediately established you are not here for a legitimate military purpose, which leaves two possibilities: either you are here as the result of an accident—”

“Which is the case.”

“—or you are here for an illegitimate purpose.”

“An illegitimate purpose?” Faust dragged again, thinking through the implications of that phrase. “You mean espionage?”

“Indeed.”

He let smoke drift from his mouth. Him as a spy—now that was a novel concept. “You know, Mr. Stoner, I was starting to like you—”

“I’m touched.” The irony was light.

“—but you play rough.”

Stoner tapped ash and continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Your German military intelligence service, the Abwehr, has experienced difficulty obtaining information regarding our defenses in these islands.”

He took a long last drag and stubbed the quarter-inch butt out in the glass ashtray on the table at his elbow. “I didn’t know that.”

“The Royal Air Force, on the other hand, has had remarkable success against Luftwaffe reconnaissance aircraft, which has denied the Abwehr aerial photographs of those defenses.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“As it would be criminal folly for the German high command to attempt an invasion without first fully analyzing the defenses of their intended target, the Abwehr has little option but to infiltrate agents within England.”

Faust cradled his injured arm against his side. He could see where the conversation was going now and Stoner’s relentless logic left him cold.

“Herr Major, if the Abwehr selected an agent to infiltrate the Oxford area, it would be someone with your precise qualifications.”

Even knowing it was coming, the blow was a knockout. Faust rubbed his neck and forced himself to breathe. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then allow me to conclude.” Stoner folded his hands atop his spotless blotter. “We know there is a German intelligence network in place within Oxford.”

“You know more than I do.”

“We know that because we’ve broken it.”

“Then it wasn’t so hot, was it?”

“And they told us another agent was coming.”

Faust quit breathing again.

“Under these circumstances, Herr Major, surely you understand we must verify your position before accepting you as an honorable prisoner of war.”

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Answers to Quiz 

1. The end of the paragraph shows us Mel’s thoughts, so we’re in her PoV. How could she know what Sean’s actually looking at? He might be thinking he needs his nails trimmed and not even notice the beer’s about to spill.

2. We’re in Clarke’s PoV, looking at the German officer. But Clarke wouldn’t be thinking about what he knows or doesn’t know, especially since his life is at stake in this scene. An alternative method of phrasing this might be, “The touch of derision in their depths wasn’t subtle.” Or some such.

3. Yeah, it’s the same thing: Clarke wouldn’t be thinking about what he believes or doesn’t, while he’s trying to find some means of surviving. This one could be rephrased with a question. “Had he known this man, perhaps years ago?” Or it could be rewritten as:

There was something familiar about this man, as if Clarke had known him at some point in their past and if he could sweep away his agitation, he’d remember a more innocent age. It was the sort of feeling to drive him crazy, but of course it was impossible.

4. Most of us don’t spend much time thinking about our voices and how we sound. If this imaginary Luke is fixating upon putting “a hint of menace” in his voice, then he’s pretty egocentric or at least comes across that way.

Thanks for your informative and fun quiz, Cheryl :-) 

Please come back tomorrow  and discover how to become 'An Educated Writer'