Tuesday's Tales ~ Noisy 09-04-13

Where books are born

Welcome back to an EARLY addition of Tuesday's Tales.  This week I'm sharing another clip from last week's story from one of my WsIP. I have moved on a bit but hopefully it will still make sense.  I appreciate both your visit and your feedback.

“Mandy is a gentle girl, a bit more naive than we ever realised. How could she live with her mother and not know her parents were going through a divorce? It’s hard to credit, especially when the when her father’s left the house to her. Did her father assume Mandy would somehow feel less rejected if he settled the house on her rather than on his ex-wife?”

The male voice came through more clearly now, laced as it was with anger and disbelief. “Jamieson settled the house on his daughter?  Not on his wife? No wonder she expected Mandy to pay her share towards the costs of setting up in a new home.” Obviously aware his voice had risen he lowered it again, or they moved away, but she couldn’t make out more than a couple of words after that. Words that didn’t make sense to her for several weeks.

The noisy cheers all around her startled her back to her surroundings. Why she wondered as she looked round at the cheering, dancing crowds of students and parents was she even giving her own the merest of thoughts on such a happy day?

Before she could move Mandy found herself swept up by a pair of strong arms and swung round in a circle.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jason said, and rained kisses over her face, her brow, her eyes, her nose, and finally, her mouth. “And you did it without selling your old home.”

She clung on, kissing him back, seeing his smiling parents’ standing just a way off waiting their turn to congratulate her.

She’d stayed with them for two years after that fateful night, been supported when Jake’s father revealed that the paper her mother wanted her to sign had been to give away the house her father settled on her. Thanks to Jake’s father, her mother’s attempts to defraud her had come to nothing. And she’d moved back into her childhood home when she turned eighteen.

 

Thank you for reading another snippet this week, and please hop on over to read everyone's offering for this week's Tuesday's Tales prompt.

Eliza Daly's Book Blast Tour

Don't miss out of this wonderful chance to win one of Ms. Daly's fabulous giveaways
* * * *

 AUTHOR Bio:

Eliza Daly’s first attempt at creative writing was in fourth grade. She and her friends were huge Charlie’s Angels fans and she would sit in her bedroom at night writing scripts for them to act out at recess the following day. She was Kelly Garrett. Fast forward to the present, she’s still writing stories about beautiful women who always get their men. The journey from fourth grade script writer to published author wasn’t an easy one, but it was always an adventure and the final destination was well worth it.

When Eliza isn’t traveling for her job as an event planner, or tracing her ancestry roots through Ireland, she’s at home in Milwaukee working on her next novel, bouncing ideas off her husband Mark, and her cats Quigley, Frankie, and Sammy.

Identity Crisis
BLURB:

When Olivia Doyle’s father dies under suspicious circumstances, rather than inheriting a family fortune, she inherits a new identity. She learns they were placed in the Federal Witness Protection Program when she was five years old. Her father was involved in an art forgery ring and testified against the mob. Brought up not to trust anyone, Olivia has a difficult time relying on U.S. Marshal Ethan Ryder to protect her, and to keep her secret. She fears her father may have continued his life of crime through her art gallery. She has little choice but to depend on Ethan when she realizes someone is now after her. Olivia’s search for the truth leads her and Ethan across country to a family and past she doesn’t remember.
At the age of ten, Ethan witnessed a brutal murder. He vowed when he grew up, he’d protect people in danger. Protecting Olivia is difficult when she won’t trust him. He soon realizes his desire to protect her goes beyond doing his job, but if his judgment becomes clouded by emotions, her safety could be jeopardized.

 

Can Ethan and Olivia learn to trust each other when they uncover secrets that will change their lives forever?

 

Excerpt:

The footsteps drew closer. Her breathing quickened. The intruder paused outside the door and she held her breath, a death grip on the pepper spray. The barrel of a gun appeared through the doorway, followed by a man. In that split second, she blasted him with a steady stream. 
 
“Shit!” he yelled, snapping his head away from the line of fire.

Unsure if she’d made a direct hit, she flew past him, still spraying the air behind her. Although it wasn’t a blanket mist, she couldn’t help but inhale some of the toxic vapors in the air. Her eyes burned slightly and she coughed, racing down the hallway and across the open foyer.  

She was almost to the door when the guy yelled out in a raspy voice, “Touch that door handle and I’ll shoot it off.”

 

She came to a screeching halt, unsure if he planned on aiming for the handle or her hand. The blood pulsating in her ears muffled the roar of the lawn mower as it passed by near a window. Nobody would hear her scream. She eyed the security alarm keypad on the wall by the door. Two quick steps and she could hit the panic button. Two quick steps and she might get shot. She slowly turned around, her gaze locking on the gun pointed at her from the opposite side of the foyer. Sheer panic pressed against her chest, and she sucked in a deep breath. 

 

The guy cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He cautiously lowered the gun, but didn’t holster it. “Unless you spray that crap again.” He blinked rapidly and ran a hand up over the top of his head, sweeping back a clump of wet hair. Her aim had obviously been off. It was impossible to spray straight when her body was shaking uncontrollably.

 

The guy’s dark hair was just shy of touching his shoulders and he had a five o’clock shadow. A black T-shirt covered his broad chest and faded, relaxed fitting jeans contradicted his rigid stance. A scar across his cheekbone, and a thin one slashing his eyebrow, added to his don’t mess with me look.

 

“I’m Ethan Ryder with the U.S. Marshals.” The man flashed a badge, then slipped it back in his pants’ pocket.

 

If the mob had hunted down her dad, who was to say it hadn’t been through a U.S. Marshal snitch? He’d trusted Roy Howard, not Ethan Ryder. Maybe he wasn’t even with the U.S. Marshals. Rather coincidental that he showed up right after a robbery.

 

“I assume you’re Olivia Doyle?”

 

At the back of her mind she heard her dad’s voice. Don’t trust him, Livvy. Be leery of people you know and certainly don’t trust someone you don’t know.

 

 

You can find Eliza on the web at:

Website:  http://www.elizadaly.com/   

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/ElizaDalyAuthor  

Twitter:  http://www.twitter.com/ElizaDalyAuthor  

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/elizadaly

 

Review: Identity Crisis by Eliza Daly 

In Identity Crisis, Eliza Daly’s skilful use of foreshadowing, and weaving suspense and tension ensured this reader kept turning the pages.

First her heroine, Olivia Doyle, loses her father and then discovers her life as she knew it is built on lies.

As if that is not enough the world she is left to face turns upside down, and she wonders whether anyone in her life ever told the truth. and given she didn’t know who she could trust then, she’s not too pleased when instead of the only contact her father left her, a stranger turns up and informs Olivia that he has taken over from the man, who just happened to be a federal marshal.

Ms. Daly doesn’t provide Olivia with a super-hero capable of handling everything without blinking an eye. In Ethan Ryder the author offers a man haunted with a past that would fell a lesser man, but one he has used to make him what he is today. He’s had his losses to face and guards his heart against all-comers; and trust is a big issue for him, so when Olivia’s art world somehow seems connected to a string of major art thefts, he begins to wonder whether the daughter is like father, and fights against his growing interest in her.

 Ms. Daly’s clever use of memories reveal Olivia’s back story and weaves it into current events in her life. Since discovering her life is one big lie, created by the government protection scheme, she’s in no hurry to trust anyone, so when her feelings for Ethan begin to grow she’s not at all pleased.

Identity Crisis deals with two people thrown into a maelstrom of ghosts from the past, hurts, mystery and suspense. The romance adds to the many unexpected twists and adds a new string of tensions to all the subplots so cleverly woven together.

The writing is strong, the characters captivating, and the storyline one I wanted to read in one sitting.

* * * * *

Identity Crisis 

is available at:
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, All Romance, eBooks.com, and Kobo

Giveaways

Eliza will be awarding one $20 Amazon or BN GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour,
and a $10 Amazon or BN Gift Certificate, winner's choice, to four (4) randomly drawn commenters during the tour.
A $10 Amazon or BN Gift Certificate, winner's choice, will be awarded to a randomly drawn host.

 

 

 

 

Tuessday's Tale - Funny

Welcome back to another Tuesday's Tales  This week I'm sharing from a brand new story in one of my WsIP and I appreciate both your visit and your feedback.

Funny – pt 1 of One for Sorrow…

 “You gonna tell me what’s crawling up your arse?” Jake kept his attention on the road ahead and the rising annoyance out of his voice.

“There’s nothing wrong, and you don’t have to be so crude.” Mandy shifted away from him knowing he’d hear the lie. She wanted to tell him and fumed when the words choked in her throat. The fact that other families broke apart didn’t lessen the shock. Her parents had always seemed so close and loving. So much so that other kids in school envied her.

Now… now she’d simply become another statistic. Just another kid, from another broken family. She wanted to laugh it off, to deny it. Funny, she thought, her mind going off at a tangent, she’d never expected to become a statistic.

How had she missed the signs?  Yeah, her parents argued, sometimes a lot, and, she thought back now, to the increasing number of times her father ‘worked late and travelled more often.’ But still it hadn’t registered on her radar.  She’d been so caught up in her growing friendship with Jake, she’d missed it all. In her misery she wanted to blame Jake, but knew that was taking pettiness to a new low.

Her mother’s words just before she left the house still clamoured in her head.

“Don’t be late back tonight, Mandy, we’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Start?” she’d asked trying to remember when they’d arranged to go out for the day and failed.

That’s when she noticed the red rims round her mother’s eyes, the more deeply furrowed lines on her forehead and the downward cast of her mouth.

“What start?” she asked. “Where to?”

“Your father and I have agreed to a divorce. He has found someone else he prefers to be with, and although he’s agreed to leave us this house, I find I can’t stay nearby and watch him staring a new life with another woman.”

Her mother’s throat bobbled, and Mandy had watched her struggle to hold back the tears.

“There’s more.” Her mother caught hold of her hand and squeezed.  “They have a five year old daughter.”

Daughter? Her father had a daughter? Well of course he did, she was his daughter, wasn’t she? And then the details hit. Like a rocket exploding in her head the words ricocheted inside her skull. Five years old, her father had a five year old daughter? She had a sister she knew nothing about? Anger, no fury, harnessed her emotions and threatened to break free, to lash out at the nearest person, and yet, how could she do that to the other person who must be hurting as bad as herself?

Rejection came hard on the heels of her fury. Her father loved his second daughter more than her. He must do, otherwise why would he leave her? Why walk away?

She’d always found it hard to make friends but Jake was different.

She looked round now as the steady sound of the car engine infiltrated her dismal thoughts. Jake was different and didn’t deserve her surliness just because her world had fallen apart in a matter of seconds.

Reaching out to lay her hand on his arm, Mandy inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry.” The thought of never seeing Jake again clamped her throat closed again and the tears she’d held back fell in torrents now.

* * *

Thank you for reading another snippet this week, and please hop on over to read everyone's offering for this week's Tuesday's Tales prompt.

Snippet Sunday 31-03-13 WWW

Thank you to everyone who visited last week and to those who left comments. Your thoughts are always appreciated.
For today's Sunday Snippet I'm continuing where I left off last week, a little ways into the beginning of a new WIP (working title Horseshoe 1) 
Again I don't have names for my characters at this stage hence the 'he' and 'she.'
This week I have also joined the Weekend Writing Warriors 

“It is you who trespasses madam.” The hauteur in the intruder’s voice sent shivers down her spine. “This is my home, and I do not tolerate insubordination from my subjects, regardless of their beauty.”

What kind of pompous idiot talked like that?  “I don’t know what you’re on, but you’re obviously out of your tiny mind.  This—” she spun round, her arm outstretched to encompass the room and the rest of the building beyond it, “—is my home and has been for the last three years.”

When his cold, disbelieving eyes stared back at her she rushed on. “If you don’t believe me ask monsieur Freemont at Ashworthy’s real estate agency in town, I bought it from them."

 

That's it for this week, :-) Thanks for coming by and you'll find lots more free-read snippets at Snippet Sunday  and Weekend Writing Warriors 

 

Sweet Saturday Sample 30-03-13

 

 

 

Time for Sweet Saturday Sample again, and this week I'm continuing from where I left off last time one of my Gasquet Princes WsIP, its working title - Sacha's Story.

 

Instinct could be twisted, but the stranger’s first mistake validated his instinctive belief in the switch.  Now they had to find out the true identity of the new arrival and who was pulling these new and alarming strings.

He’d suspect Charles deBonet if the man hadn’t died when Liam and Paxman rescued Melanie…

Then who?

And where was Simeon?

“Wait.”  Sacha wanted to shrug off Liam’s restraining hand on his shoulder. Wanted to face the imposter who dared to impersonate his twin, but he forced himself to face Liam.

“What?”

“Precisely man, what are you going to do?” Liam dropped his hand and tunnelled his fingers through his hair. “If this man realises we are on to him, he’ll inform his controllers as soon as he leaves here.” Liam paused, stroked his chin and nodded. “If he is still alive Simeon’s life may depend on what we do during the next few hours."

 

You'll find more talented writers' offerings at Sweet Saturday Sample

 



Kelly Martin and Saint Sloan

I want to thank Sherry for having me on her blog today!! Today is a big day for me: a huge one day blog tour extravaganza! I’m on 12 blogs (eek!) talking about my new book SAINT SLOAN.

Saint Sloan deals with sexual assault, peer pressure, faith, love, and loyalty. It’s a ‘clean’ novel which means no cussing, pink parts, or anything like that. But, I’m not going to lie, it’s one of the darker stories I’ve written. Still, it’s gotten great reviews on Amazon and people have been begging for a sequel (great news! I’m writing TWO of them!! So Sloan will be a trilogy!!)

Excerpt from SAINT SLOAN.
A honk from her driveway made her throw the paper down, grab her dark purple backpack, and run out the back door next to the stove. She grabbed her old black coat and wished it was the beautiful gray one she left at Boyd’s. With the pastry dangling from her mouth, she jogged to the passenger side of Mackenzie’s silver Honda Accord.

“Took ya long enough,” Mackenzie said, throwing the car in reverse and speeding down the driveway. She wore faded jeans, a white shirt under an emerald colored coat, and lime green sneakers. Her thick red hair hung in curls to her shoulder blades. It always reminded Sloan of a lion’s mane when she wore it down like that.

“Sorry, Monday after vacation and all.” Sloan put her seatbelt on, trying to juggle her breakfast and talk at the same time: way too much to do at once on a Monday morning.

“Bet you won’t be so slow tomorrow,” Mackenzie laughed. “We still on for the movies Saturday to celebrate?”

“Of course.” Sloan beamed. “My first movie as an official adult.”

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“And you’ll drive. Finally. My tires need a rest from carting you around so much.”

“Like the plague,” Mackenzie teased, accelerating the car a few miles over the speed limit.

“Speaking of carting, why are we going too fast?”

“Don’t wanna be late.”

Sloan leaned over and checked the clock on the dash. “We’re not going to be late. It’s only 7:30. We have plenty of time.”

One side of Mackenzie’s mouth quirked up. “I still have to pick up Travis.”

“Travis? Travis Baylock? You’re taking him to school now, too?”

“At least he didn’t leave me to fend for myself at a party.”

Ouch. “I told you I was sorry about that. I felt bad about it, but I couldn’t deal with Darcy any more. Plus I didn’t want to bother you and Travis. I would have come back if you needed me. You know that.”

“I know. I’m teasing,” she grinned playfully, which made Sloan relax. “I could drive myself home. I didn’t drink, remember? You’re not the only person in the world who doesn’t.”

“I’m glad about that.” Sloan meant every word.

Mackenzie turned on the blinker and pulled into Travis’s driveway. His house resembled Sloan’s except it was brick instead of white siding like hers was.


Travis sat on the porch steps, tapping the concrete with a stick. He threw it down and jumped up when he saw the car. Sloan could understand why Mackenzie liked him so much. His dark hair hung in loose curls near his ears, and his eyes were chocolate brown. Blessed with a football player’s build, he hadn’t played since freshman year. Boyd told Sloan when they were dating that it was a waste of natural talent. Personally, she didn’t care either way. In her mind, football players were just like everyone else.

“This isn’t too weird, is it?” Mackenzie asked a little too late because Travis had almost made it to the car. “Since he’s Boyd’s best friend and all.”

“We’ve been broken up for months. It’s okay. I’m over him.” And most of her was. Only a small part missed him. He had been a great kisser.

Travis crawled in the backseat and scooted to the middle. He had on a steel-colored gray shirt with some sort of black graffiti on it under an open black jacket and black jeans. “Ladies.”

“Travis.” Mackenzie smiled, and Sloan nodded politely.

Mackenzie and Travis started chattering as they went down the road, and Sloan tuned them out. She watched the clouds move freely in the sky, little signs of God’s love. Donna had told her that once. Watching the physical evidence of how much God cared, Sloan prayed for Darcy to leave her alone for one day. It would make her Monday go much more smoothly.

About a half a mile from Travis’s house, Sloan saw a dark blue Mustang pulling into the Hunters’ driveway. She watched Aaron lumber slowly out of the car. He had a shadow of a beard around his jawline, and his body slouched as he stood. His hair stuck out in different directions, and Sloan found herself wanting to run her fingers through it. Quickly, she shook the idea from her mind. It wasn’t right to think of him like that when she barely knew him. Under his coat, he had on a dark blue uniform like the men who worked at the aluminum plant in Harrisburg wore. Gauging by the time, she figured he’d just gotten off work.

Like the pulling of a magnet, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He looked up at her and did a double take. She could have sworn he looked glad to see her. As the car passed him, she waved. They were going too fast to see if he waved back.
Travis laid over the seat and plopped his head on his arms. “What’s up with you and Hunter? You act like you know him.”
“Nothing.”
“Hmmm…” He didn’t sound convinced. “Have ya’ll heard about the Hunters?” He sounded like a giddy old woman with a juicy little secret to share.
Mackenzie took the bait. “No, what?”

**
Can’t wait to read what happens next?

Buy the book from any of the links below:

AMAZON:        BARNES AND NOBLE:       SMASHWORDS:     

                ASTRAEAPRESS:                                   KOBO:  

Author bio:

~Kelly Martin is a best selling author of young adult fiction. She has two books: Grace Award nominee CROSSING THE DEEP and Amazon Best selling in Teen/Religion SAINT SLOAN. She has several short stories published and loves to write ‘twitter fiction’ when she’s bored. Kelly loves God, is addicted to chocolate, and would rather write than sleep.

You can find me at:-

www.kellymartinstories.com

www.encourage365.com

https://twitter.com/martieKay 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelly-Martin-Author/136506059763138

Thank you so much for having me here today!
You're very welcome, Kelly.

Hump Day hook 27-03-13

HUMP DAY HOOK is a blog hop where each participating author posts ONE paragraph from a WIP (work in progress) or finished book each Wednesday. This gives readers an opportunity to sample different author's work and perhaps even find a new-to-you author.

For the last time I am carrying on where I left off last week. Today you are getting a short snippet from 'her' point of view

She cursed when her opponent’s foil whipped past her face, and pushed her thoughts away.But along with the next clash of blades they came right back again...
Before she knew his intentions, the stranger had whipped the marriage certificate out of her hand and marched down chapel's the weather-smooth steps to the street.

To read more offering from the HDH group of authors please visit Hump Day Hook Blog.

 

A helpful writing link?

I hope you are not too disappointed that there is no Tuesday's Tale today, Instead I decided to take the time to go through my over-long favourites list and see if I could do some spring cleaning. Well the weather may not be co-operating, but that's not excuse not to take advantage of the spirit of the season, is it? :-)

Anyway to get back to what I was blethering on about  disappointment, feelings, senses; I came across a posting in my favourites by Lucy Munro all about the impact of using the sense for writing and that it is now widely recognised there are far more than the basic five senses.

Rather than try to chose bits and pieces from it, here is the link to Lucy's post. I hope you find it as interesting as I did.

http://romanceuniversity.org/2011/10/26/author-lucy-monroe-more-than-five-senses-writing-for-visceral-impact/

I have just gone and ordered Marilyn Kelly's book, too.

Snippet Sunday 24-03-13

Thank you to everyone who visited last week and to those who left comments. Your thoughts are always appreciated.
For today's Sunday Snippet I'm starting a little ways into the beginning of a new WIP (working title Horseshoe 1) 
Again I don't have names for my characters at this stage hence the 'he' and 'she.'



photo from BBC UK

“There’s bears and wolves in them there mountains,” the estate agent had prophesied with relish with so much relish when she paid her deposit, she’d wondered whether he was deliberately trying to scare her away.

Three years ago she’d lived another life. A life full of love and laughter, of friendships and happiness. It took her a while to find happiness here in her new home, but she’d found it. A quieter happiness, hopefully more enduring and one that would keep her grounded in reality. A happiness that never relied on others, and therefore could be snatched away from her.

That's it for this week, :-) Thanks for coming by and you'll find lots more free-read snippets at Snippet Sunday  

Hump Day Hook 20-03-13

Welcome back to Hump Day Hook. I always enjoy your visits and your comments.

HUMP DAY HOOK is a blog hop where each participating author posts ONE paragraph from a WIP (work in progress) or finished book each Wednesday. This gives readers an opportunity to sample different author's work and perhaps even find a new-to-you author.

I am carrying on where I left off last time

With a twist of his body he pushed her foil clear and brought his own down on her leather-gloved hand.

Only her gasp broke the shocked silence before she leapt back and lunged again.

She had a point, he’d used a moved barred by almost all fencing clubs, but this, he reminded himself, wasn’t a fight of his choosing, nor was it being played within club rules.  The woman fought with a skill and intensity that moved this fight beyond personal to malicious. 

He wished he knew why.

 

To read more offering from the HDH group of authors please visit Hump Day Hook Blog.