Sunday, April 30, 2017

Sunday's Book - Murder and Mint Tea #MFRWauthor #cozymystery #tea

Murder and Mint Tea (Mrs. Miller Mysteries Book 1)

Katherine is a retired nurse and a retired church organist. The small Hudson River village where she lives in her Victorian “Painted Lady” makes her the neighborhood matriarch. Along with her Maine Coon Cat Robespierre, she guards friends and families.

When amoral Rachel moves into the first floor apartment of Katherine’s house, trouble erupts. The murder weapon is one she recognizes and makes her fear for her friends and family. Finding the killer becomes her goal.

Editorial Review
Murder and Mint Tea is a gem in its genre, combining the voice of a classic American whodunit with that of a traditional British detective novel. Murder She Wrote meets Miss Marple in a beautifully crafted tale that makes the reader want to reach into the pages and dispense justice to the villainess themselves. ~ Writer Gail Roughton

Reviews

Murder and Mint Tea


Rating: 4 out of 5
a Mystery with a Twist
6240 days ago
Guest
I loved the landlord, Mrs. Miller, and hated her downstairs tenant ... just as the author intended, I'm sure! The book kept me up late since I just couldn't put it down until I knew whodunit.
Byon January 11, 2013
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
A very interesting read with a charming sleuth, her Maine Coon Cat, and intriquing plot with the requisite mint tea.


Requiem Murder
Byon May 8, 2012
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
We live in a sr place where your dogs must never be walked outside. Having two dogs, and wanting to walk, double strolles are very expensive. This one was fine for our purpose and cheap!



Saturday, April 29, 2017

Saturday's Blurbs - Once again Substituting - Blurbs for my recent releases #MFRWauthor #romance #mystery #paranormal

Murder and Mint Tea 

Katherine is a retired nurse and a retired church organist. The small Hudson River village where she lives in her Victorian “Painted Lady” makes her the neighborhood matriarch. Along with her Maine Coon Cat Robespierre, she guards friends and families.

When amoral Rachel moves into the first floor apartment of Katherine’s house, trouble erupts. The murder weapon is one she recognizes and makes her fear for her friends and family. Finding the killer becomes her goal.

Editorial Review
Murder and Mint Tea is a gem in its genre, combining the voice of a classic American whodunit with that of a traditional British detective novel. Murder She Wrote meets Miss Marple in a beautifully crafted tale that makes the reader want to reach into the pages and dispense justice to the villainess themselves. ~ Writer Gail Roughton

The Cancer-Capricorn Connection

She’s a Cancer and he’s a Capricorn. She has a secret she wants to keep but moments after they meet again, he knows the secret. Her daughter is his and he wants to be part of her life.

Memories of the past and her hurt brings Cate’s old anger with Rick to the surface. Rick realizes what a fool he’d been in his single-minded desire to follow his dream. He now has the medical degree he desired enough to set his love for Cate aside. His guilt and her anger clash while they try to find ways to show their daughter how much they love her.

Past Betrayals, Past Loves

A curse sends Astrid on a journey to ancient lands. She meets deceit and betrayal searching for true love and to break the curse. The search begins in Egypt. When she touches an ancient Egyptian necklace she is hurtled through time into the turbulent life of another woman. She discovers the words spoken in anger holding her spirit captive. Seven more times she finds a piece of jewelry and returns to a distant past. In each of these lives she encounters and falls in love with a man who seems to be someone recently met in her present as do the enemy man and woman.

The heat between Astrid and Duncan is instant and becomes incandescent. Her dislike of two characters grows. Eight realms await her. Eight chances break the curse holding her spellbound and to end the cycle of past betrayals and find love. Eight chances to foil the evil man and woman who follow her and Duncan from era to era.

Whispers From Yesteryear

“Not the children.” Willow Carey is awakened by the remnants of a dream she hasn’t had for years. Today she is to return to Indian’s Sorrow, a house she inherited from her aunt. The inheritance has caused a rift with her twin sister. Her father and stepmother have died in an accident. Though she doesn’t want to go to Indian’s Sorrow, she must take charge of her young half-sister and brother.

Reid Talbot, a man she once loved lives near the house with his family. Now a widower, he lives with his sons. Learning to trust him again is difficult but he also has dreams.

Together, they must learn the meaning of the dreams before the whispers of yesteryear destroy their newfound happiness.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Thursday's First and Second Scene - Whispers From Yesteryear #MFRWauthor #Paranormal #Gothic

July 1755
    
Willow Who Bends stood at the entrance of the Long House and stared at the sky. Though the sun shone brightly, to the west dark clouds gathered and carried the threat of a storm like the one she felt inside. She knelt beside the father of her spirit. Corn Dreamer had raised her and taught her the ways of healing. She prayed he would wake but feared he wouldn’t. Sorrow rode the beats of her heart and threatened to spill in a rain of tears.
     "Corn Dreamer, must you travel to the spirit world and leave this one behind?" Her voice cracked and she caught a breath to still the ache in her throat. "The men have taken the warriors’ path in answer to Waraghuyagey’s call. The-Man-Who-Understands-Great-Things speaks for the redcoats, those men who want our help. What have we to do with the ones who fail to live in harmony with the land?”
     Not all the pale-skinned men, she thought. A smile crossed her face. There was one who often stayed in the village and sat at Corn Dreamer’s feet to learn.
Near a moon ago, a message had come for Hair of Fire. He had left the Long House and journeyed west. A shiver crawled her spine. Was he safe? In these days, danger rode the currents of the air the way carrion birds circled a kill.
     She returned to her teacher’s side and pressed her fingers against his wrist. What had made him fall into sleep yet not sleep? Why did his heart flutter like humming bird wings and then slow. She wished for a way to rouse him for he would know the answer.
     "Corn Dreamer, spirit father, medicine man, this woman is not ready for you to leave. What can this one do to help?"
     She closed her eyes and sought among the things he had taught her. An answer arose. "This one must go into the forest to gather fresh leaves and bark."
     From her sleeping place, she lifted a bark basket by the carrying strap and left the Long House. As she stepped outside, she heard the children’s laughter and the voices of the women raised in the growing chant. The sound chased her sorrow.
     Across the clearing, her sister sat with the ones too young to work with the women. Though born of the same mother and on the same day, she and Willow by the Stream had been raised at different fires. On the outside, they wore a single face as reflected in a still pond, but their inner natures were different. As the first born, Willow Who Bends had been given to Corn Dreamer to learn about the ways of medicine and the spirit world. Her sister had been raised as a woman of the clan.
She drank in the sight of her sister. Soon Willow by the Stream would take a husband. That was good and right, but the change would further separate their lives.
Willow Who Bends sighed. We are alike and not alike. This one has been trained to stand alone. Willow by the Stream needed someone to care for her.
The small ones giggled. Willow Who Bends waited until her sister finished the story of the fox and the bear. Then she approached the group.
"Corn Dreamer is no better. This one must go into the forest to gather fresh medicines."
"A gift for you." Willow by the Stream presented a small deerskin pouch. On one side dyed porcupine quills formed an image of the sun, and on the other precious trade beads patterned the Three Sisters -- Corn, Squash and Beans.
"Are you not afraid to go into the forest alone?"
"Who would harm a medicine woman?"
"The enemy. Those despoilers and their pale friends move along the trails like weasels seeking prey."
"They were seen to the south and west a moon ago. This one will go north and east to the place where the willows grow beside the stream. Since you fear for me, listen with the ear that opens between us. If this one finds danger, she will cry a warning."
"This woman will listen."
At the edge of the trees, Willow Who Bends paused, and for a short time watched the people of the Long House. Her foster mother and the mother who had given her life worked side by side in the garden. Four nearly-grown boys practiced with their bows under the eyes of the warriors who had remained to protect the clan. With a wave, she stepped into the shadows cast by the forest.
As she moved among the trees, she stopped to gather medicines -- birch leaves, bloodroot, ginseng, bee balm. Slowly, she made her way to the stream where chill waters swept down the hill to join other streams and form a river.
The leaves of the willows had darkened from pale spring green to the darker hues of summer. All the catkins had dropped away. She pressed her hands against the largest of the cluster.
"Sister Tree, one who shares your name has need of your bark. Will you let me cut your skin?" She pressed her forehead against the tree and waited for an answer.
The scream that sounded in her head caused her to stagger. Her legs refused to hold her erect. She slid to the ground. With a terror that matched her sister’s, through the link between them, she witnessed the destruction of the Long House. The faces of the enemy burned into her head.
"Not the children!" The scream caused the earth beneath her body to shudder.

***

     July 2017

"Not the children!"
Willow Carey jerked into a sitting position. Her heart thudded in her chest. Waves of terror flooded her thoughts. She gulped deep breaths of air.
She stared at the familiar surroundings and wondered why the bedroom seemed alien. Like a shroud, the sheet had twisted around her legs. She tugged it free. Her sleep shirt, soaked with perspiration, clung to her skin. She shook her head to dislodge the fragments of the nightmare that had awakened her. Terror, grief and rage had followed her into consciousness. What? Why?
Once her heart rate slowed, she reached for the alarm clock. Too late to go back to sleep and too early to get ready for work. As the effects of the adrenaline rush faded, her sense of uneasiness grew.
She hugged her knees. Once again, she had failed but she couldn’t remember who or how.
Moments later, she stood in the shower. Warm water washed away the sour smell of fear. The nightmare wasn’t new. Six years had passed since the last time the cry had jolted her awake. Always the same urgency and the same surge of emotions. No matter how hard she tried, she never remembered more than the cry.
She stepped from the shower. After pulling on a blue terry cloth robe, she stripped the bed and stuffed the damp sheets in the hamper.
What had triggered the dream? With the thoroughness of a pathologist seeking the cause of death, she examined the past few days and found no incident that could be called a trigger.
As she made the bed, she recalled the first time she’d dreamed. She’d been sixteen. She and her twin had been at Indian’s Sorrow visiting their aunt. Willow had always loved staying there. This time had been different. One memory lodged in her thoughts.
"Willow, come here. This is so neat." Brooke had opened the gate at the side of the garden.
Willow halted at the opening. She looked beyond her sister. "Get away from the edge."
"I’m fine." Brooke leaned forward. "The rocks look like a giant’s teeth. Come see."
"I can’t."
Brooke laughed. "Chicken."
"Something dreadful happened here."
"And I thought I was the one with the imagination and you were the logical one." Brooke spun around. "I love this place. Do you think Aunt Willow will leave it to us? She doesn’t have kids."
"I don’t..." Willow had turned away. She hadn’t been able to say she didn’t want Indian’s Sorrow. The land had been in the family forever and something bound her to this place.
That night she’d dreamed. Terror had slid insidious fingers of fear into her sleep. When the summer had ended, she’d been happy to go home.
Until her aunt’s death, she hadn’t gone back. Then she learned the house and the land were hers, not a legacy to be shared with her twin.
Brooke had been furious. She’d accused Willow of taking advantage of their aunt. Since that day, their relationship had been strained. Brooke’s coldness had hurt.
Willow sighed. The land was hers but she’d lost her sister.
She sat on the edge of the bed. Where was Brooke? Five months ago, they had talked for a few minutes at an art gallery exhibition of Brooke’s paintings. Silly surface chatter with no meaning and no sense of their old bond.
Was her twin all right? She used to know when Brooke was in trouble, but the connection they’d shared had vanished. Willow tore her thoughts from the void left by the rift.
By six fifteen, she was ready for work. She put a bright yellow smock embroidered with Native American symbols over her white uniform. The children loved to trace the lines and learn the meanings. So did she. Her apartment reflected her interest in that part of her heritage.
She paused to study the portrait Brooke had painted of the Three Sisters -- Corn, Squash and Beans. Though Willow had posed for the picture, her twin could have painted herself. Long black hair, warm brown eyes, cheekbones that added a hint of the exotic. Mirrors on the outside but opposites inside.
A sliver of the nightmare slid into focus. Brooke screamed. As though touched by a blast of frigid air, Willow rubbed her arms. What did it mean? Was Brooke in danger? She searched but the bond remained closed.
She had no appetite, but she brewed a cup of herbal tea and toasted a bran muffin. As she picked at the food, her thoughts returned to the nightmare. Why today and why when she wasn’t at Indian’s Sorrow? She scraped the remains of the muffin in the garbage and washed the dishes.
A persistent question nagged. What did the dream mean?
She tucked a pouch containing a Kelly clamp, bandage scissors and pens in her pocket. With a stethoscope draped around her neck, she headed across the street to West End Hospital where she worked as a pediatric nurse.


Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Finding the Right Words #MFRWauthor #Writing #words

A quote from Dwight V. Swain. "A story is words strung onto paper."

Absolutely a correct thing to say but the stringing of these words is more than a random selection. One can always write lists of words one after another but what they say makes no sense. Words need to be chosen with care.

How does someone find the right words to string together to make a story. There are a number of ways to learn. Words in a horror story are different that words in a romance. So the writer needs to be aware of their genre, even when combining genres in a book.

The writer must look at their characters to help in choosing the right words. People have careers, backgrounds and education. All of these can be plumbed to make a coherent string of words.

The historical period of the story should be considered. Different words form a story of a historical or a modern tale. The area where a story is set also brings different words into play. City versus country, today versus some time in the future, All these things need to be considered when you look at your string of words.

What are your characters doing is another thing to consider. Are they solving a mystery? Are they chilling with friends? These come into play. A nurse might use different words depending on what she is doing at the time.

What do their senses tell them? Using the senses as seen through the characters five senses can help the writer find the right words.

So hoose your words after looking at the possible ways to bring the story to life.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Tuesday - The Writer's Life - The Blurb #MFRWauthor #Promotion

Just what is a blurb? This is the paragraph or two that goes on the back of the book and also on the sites where your book is being sold. Some publishers will write this blurb for you and may do a really great job. Other publishers will want you to write your own. If you're self-publishing your book, this is a skill you must develop.

When writing a blurb you need to write a very short bit about your book, one that will influence a reader to want to learn more. Doing this in a few words can be very, very hard. You will probably make many trials and tear them up. After writing many, you will find ways to help yourself

What consists a blurb/ You need to show when the story happens, what the problems between the characters are. But don't give up the end of the book. If you do why would the reader want to read your story.

I find this to encompass many trials. Sometimes writing a blurb seems to take longer than the book. What you need to add are words that show the genre. A reader might find your blurb exciting and expect a romance only to find you've written a suspense, mystery or another genre. You need to touch on the main characters and their goals. Giving enough and not too much can be difficult. I've written one blurb that gained a response from the publisher and from readers. Though old, the book is still selling. I'll include it.

Take one doctor who’s made a career of temporary positions and avoiding commitment. Add a nurse who dreams of security and a settled life. Stir in infant twins bequeathed to him by his dead foster sister. Pour them into a small Texas town that wants the doctor to stay. To Dr. Neal McKay, it’s a prescription for a dilemma.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry #Writing

Meander 1 Poem

I feel adrift, cast out, astray
With nowhere I can go
With restlessness upon myself
Not wanting to sit still.
I want to go, to run away
To hurry past this time.
I can't, I know, but yet
I can retain my restless
Crying soul.

Meander 2 - New Releases - In the past few weeks I've had three releases. The Cancer-Capricorn Connection is the fourth of a six book series using opposites in the Zodiac for medical based romance. This book brings Cait the heroine problems for the father of her daughter returns to her life. She must learn to forgive and this is a struggle.  Past Betrayals, Past Loves is a reincarnation story. The heroine and hero travel from ancient world to the present and in each past life there is a lesson for Astrid and Duncan. Whispers From Yesteryear is another reincarnation based story where Willow the heroine and Reid the hero must solve the past before it destroys their future. They dream at night and the past story unfolds.

Meander 2 - Writing is going very slow, at least for new stories. I had 10 books with rights returned and at present two of them have been completed. I'm going over the edits on the second and will finally finish this today and send it off on Monday. Hopefully I will finish all these by the end of May and have started a new story.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Sunday's Book - Whispers From Yesteryear #MFRWauthor #Paranormal #Romance

Whispers From Yesteryear


“Not the children.” Willow Carey is awakened by the remnants of a dream she hasn’t had for years. Today she is to return to Indian’s Sorrow, a house she inherited from her aunt. The inheritance has caused a rift with her twin sister. Her father and stepmother have died in an accident. Though she doesn’t want to go to Indian’s Sorrow, she must take charge of her young half-sister and brother.

Reid Talbot, a man she once loved lives near the house with his family. Now a widower, he lives with his sons. Learning to trust him again is difficult but he also has dreams.

Together, they must learn the meaning of the dreams before the whispers of yesteryear destroy their newfound happiness.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Saturday's Blurbs featuring Books by Trevann Rogers MFRWauthor #paranormal

House of the Rising Son
Living After Midnight, Book 1

Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.

Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.

As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker.

Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.

~~ You can find House of the Rising Son on Samhain PublishingBarnes and Noble and Amazon.






Friday, April 21, 2017

Friday's Guest - Trevann Rogers #MFRWauthor #genres #writing

1. Do you write a single genre or do your fingers flow over the keys creating tales in many forms?
Does your reading choices reflect your writing choices?
Are there genres you wouldn’t attempt?
I read Urban Fantasy and humor mainly.  I’m always drawn to GLBT characters in any genre.  So it is logical that I write the kinds of stories I want to read.  Toss in my love of music and I’m a happy girl.

I would never try to write historical romance but I admire those authors who can.

2. Heroes, Heroines, Villains. Which are your favorite to write?
I enjoy writing my heroes.  They are men whom I love so I enjoy my time with them.  I get to create my “perfect man” who is, of course, far from perfect.

3. Heroes. How do you find them? Do pictures, real life or plain imagination create the man you want every reader to love? Do they come before the plot or after you have the idea for the story?
My heroes are composites of traits that I find intriguing.  My ideas come from many places, such as a group of people I see who draw my attention, snippets of a song that bring a scene to mind, or something I read in the paper or see in a magazine.  I’m not sure which comes first, story or character.  Maybe they arrive in my brain together?

4. Heroines. How do you find them? Do pictures, real life or imagination create the woman you want the reader to root for? Do they appear before the plot or after you have the idea for the story?
Since I write mostly male/male stories, it's unusual for women to spark a story idea so they arrive to flesh out something else in the story.  I also must admit that sometimes outfits are the spark for a female character.  I see something beautiful and wonder who would wear it.

5. Villains or villainesses or an antagonist, since they don’t always have to be the bad guy or girl. They can be a person opposed to the hero’s or heroine’s obtaining their goal. How do you choose one? How do you make them human?
The villain or antagonist is usually born after the hero and plot.  I have to know what traits I need him to have.  They also need a reason to behave as they do, beyond the current concrete objective. The reason makes them human.

6. What is your latest release? Who is the hero, heroine and or the villain? 
After Midnight, prequel to HOUSE OF THE RISING SON is due out September 22. The heroine is Jewell, a young vampire who dreams of house with a white picket fence that she shares with her lovers.  Ria, Jewell's girlfriend and the co-heroine, is also a vampire trying to find her place in the world after being disinherited for coming out.  Cheyenne (the hero of HOUSE OF THE RISING SON) is a incubus who wants to be a rock star. 

7. What are you working on now?
The novel I am writing now is the sequel to HOUSE OF THE RISING SON.  A year has passed and the hero, Cheyenne, is dragged deeper into the Incubi world when his father becomes ill.  I'm also working on a New Adult urban fantasy.

8. How can people find you?
I can be found at