Thursday, July 31, 2014

Thursday's Hero - Eric From On Opposite Sides by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor

On Saturday morning at a few minutes after ten, Eric left his apartment.  Moments later, his sneakers slapped against the asphalt surface of the path leading to Community Park.  The shade beneath the oak and maple trees bright relief from the relentless August sun.
            Today promised to be as hot as Eastlake Community would be if the problems that beaded like the sweat on his forehead weren’t solved.  For an instant, he allowed himself to regret the injury that had ended his career as a cop and his decision to become a nurse, the way his father and a number of ex-cops he knew had done.  During the week since his arrival, he’d asked himself a dozen times why he’d listened to Sam and applied for the position as Director of Nursing.
            “Something fishy’s going on.  I’m not sure who, what or why.  You’ve got the training to dig out the info.”
            In the past week, he’d learned a number of facts, but none were illegal.  The nurse managers and supervisors couldn’t see or didn’t care about the signs of unrest among
the nurses.  Sometimes, he thought administration was the problem.  But since their contracts protected them, he couldn’t fire the lot.
            He emerged from the tree-sheltered path and stopped to let a herd of children charge past.  Where was Sam and where was the ballfield?  His buddy had volunteered him as first base umpire for the game between the nurses and a team from the other departments.
            “Eric, over here.”
            He jogged toward the picnic table where Sam sat.  The children returned.  With the adroitness he’d once displayed on the football field, he twisted and evaded until he cleared the crowd.
            “Just like old times, my man.”  Sam’s brown hand slapped Eric’s.
            “Hardly.  Where’s your gaudy uniform?”  When Eric had played football, Sam had been a member of the marching band.  He’d also been pianist for the jazz ensemble.  Eric rested his hands on his thighs until he caught his breath.  “I’m too old for this.”
            Sam laughed.  “At thirty-two?  In five minutes, I guarantee you’ll be rejuvenated.”
            “About the game.  Fun or serious?”
            “A bit of both.”  Sam slid from the table.  “The captain and pitcher for the nurses is intense.  She likes 
to win.”
            “Is this a warning?”
            Sam’s laughter rolled the way his fingers moved along the piano keys.  “You’ll see.  Wait ‘til you see her legs.  Long and lean and stretching forever.  Simone threatened to blacken my eyes if I leer.  Grab a beer and let’s go.”
            When Eric reached the field, he forgot the beer.  The hospital’s problems vanished.  He put the beer on the ground several yards from first base and stared at the pitcher.  Sam had been on target.
            He studied her exceptional legs until they vanished beneath brief red shorts.  His stare lingered on the white tee short that clung to her small yet perfect breasts.  Sunlight caught the red glints in her brown hair and turned them into flames.  As she moved from the mound, his body reacted.  How was he going to remember he was her boss?


Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Story Connectors in Series #MFRWauthor


Inspired by Writing The Fiction Series by Karen Wiesner." For the series where the connection isn't a tight one, the type of series that depends on something other than the quest for a particular object, there need to be ties or story connectors. These stories may be those that can be read without having read the others in the series. For this kind of a series, a tie or probably ties are needed.

The characters in each story come from the same town. If this is the case, there can be a number of story connectors. The name of the town, the places in town that are unique and that the characters visit frequently. This will cause the reader to suddenly feel like they are someone visiting a familiar place.

The connectors in this kind of story could be something else like the use of a particular word in a series. Mysteries often use this The Murder, The Case of... This often shows the reader that perhaps the main character is the same but this is a new case. Often done in mysteries. This can be the use of the main character's name in the title. The reader sees this kind of thing in the title and they say, "Oh, yes."

In my own loosely connected series one story consistently uses a Maine Coon cat as the connector. Even when he's not physically present in the story there are mentions to the cat. Another though the connector is the birth sign of the heroines, there are such things as the name of the town, a favorite eating place, the local hospital. These things are in most of the stories and they help the reader know these stories are part of a series,

So story connectors are needed and especially in the series that aren't tightly woven.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Tuesday's Inspiration -William Carlos Williams #MFRWauthor


Today's quote always makes me smile. A long time ago, a writer friend gave this to me as a small Christmas gift. Our critique group at that time tried to do things we needn't spend much on. That still holds with a limit. So here's the quote.

"I think of writing as a disease. You can't stop it." Once the writing virus invades, writing is something that must be done. Now, maybe this isn't so for some writers. There are those who write one book and never write another. There are some who write the same book over and over again. There are people who think about writing a book and never do. And there are closet writers who never let anyone know they are writing.

What about you? Has the disease of writing made you think you might like to do this? Now there are many things that go into becoming a writer. Some of these things aren't necessarily fun. You have to put your work out there for people to read. You need to send it to an editor. You have to grow a thick skin when reviewers say things you'd rather not hear. Or those people who you thought were your friends make comments about what you've written.

The thing about the disease of writing is how severe is your case. The only cure is to stop writing. What fun would that be?

Monday, July 28, 2014

Meandering on Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor


Meander 1 - Prices - Recently went to check out one of my favorite authors on Kindle and the price of his new book in the electronic form made me blink many times. I will not pay $13.99 for the electronic version of a book. Maybe I'm cheap but that's the way I see this. The highest I will go is $7.99 and even that doesn't sit right with me. The one thing I will never do is find one of those sites where one can find a sharer and download the book for free. I don't even enter contests where the prize is a free ebook. When I judge them in a contest, the moment the contest ends, I remove them from my computer. So this is my price protest for the day.

Meander 2 - The case of the spider. She came from the powder room, her face white with fear. There's a huge spider in there. I grabbed by handy can of bug spray and went inside expecting to see a spider at least the size of a tarantula or larger. I aimed the spray at the creature that was about the size of the nail on my pinkie. The moral of the story is when you're afraid of something it always seems larger than life. Must remember this when writing.

Meander 3 - Toth's Priest is moving forward, Have less that 10,000 words until the book is finished. Then it will be on to another story. This draft is the filling in of details that have been skimmed over or caught by the critique group,

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Sunday's My Series - Katherine Miller - Hudson House Murders by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor


Book 4 in the cozy mystery series sees Katherine going undercover as a nurse at an exclusive nursing home in the town where she lives. I had fun with this book turning a house and the grounds on the river into a nursing home. Of course I enlarged the house and made the grounds more beautiful than they are in person. That's one of the beauties of being a writer taking the familiar and changing it into something else. But back to the story.

Katherine has a new set of tenants. One is a young woman, the granddaughter of a friend who was blamed for something as a child she didn't do. She was sent to relatives and has returned to town. Katherine wishes to re-unite her with her grandmother, a friend of Katherine's. There is at least one family member who wants to prevent this. Katherine's friend falls at church and fractures her hip. She is admitted to the nursing home. Katherine visits her and the friend tells her about some things she heard and about a death among the patients. This triggers Katherine's suspicions.

Suspicions flare and though she talks to her police friend he says there's nothing he can do. Katherine decides to go undercover as a nurse. She has kept her license current. She is hired and works the afternoon shift. And the fun begins.

This book in the series was fun to write. Since Katherine has become a couple with Lars the book adds to the romance and to the mystery.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Saturday's Excerpt from Her Alien Savior by Elle Thorne #MFRWauthor

Her Alien Savior
An alien soldier without emotions.
Finn is three quarters Asazi and one quarter human. He’s a lieutenant in the Asazi army and his desire is to be the best soldier he can. He’s spent a lifetime denying his human side, only to find out that now it makes him key to a mission on Earth. A mission that includes Marissa Sanchez, Target 41, a determined, smart-mouthed spitfire that brings out emotions his Asazi nature rejects.
A human woman with a target on her.
Marissa’s dream is to keep her restaurant from being seized by ruthless developers. She’s broke, out of options, has a deadline, and a cheating ex who offers to marry her and solve her financial problems. Everything changes when a guy named Finn saves her life and provides a completely different kind of option.
Excerpt from Her Alien Savior by Elle Thorne
And just like that—no notice, no clues, nothing—she was gone. The phone rang, she answered it, the call couldn’t have been more than a minute, maybe two. Then she looked like a balloon that had the air drained out of it. She laid her head on the table, then got up, grabbed her purse, didn’t even respond to his question, didn’t even act like she’d heard it, or that he even existed. And then she was gone.
He wondered if he should let her go. He wondered if he should abort the mission altogether, maybe move on to the next target, because this one seemed so . . . so . . . unpredictable.
Then the inexplicable happened, as if someone else was controlling his body, his mind, his actions, he found himself telling Belle he had to run an errand. And he followed her, this dark-haired, green-eyed woman with a warrior’s spirit. He knew why he did it. He’d seen that look she had on her face. He’d seen it on shell-shocked soldiers who’d seen too much, lived through too much and were numb. And numb soldiers did stupid things. Dangerous things.
Did female humans—women, Kal’s word reverberated in his mind—did women do stupid things when they were numb or shell-shocked? He wished he’d paid better attention to some of the lessons. Right now, knowing more about humans would serve him better than knowing all the different techniques of killing, survival, espionage, evasion, reconnaissance, and escape. He slipped into the foot-traffic, keeping enough of a distance behind her, and hoping she wouldn’t notice him. Of course she wouldn’t, he chastised himself. He was trained well. Sure, he counter-argued himself, but not to evade discovery in a densely-populated area.
As soon as he was home, as soon as this mission was complete, he would suggest to the Elite Measures Academy that they implement evasion in populated areas to their curriculum, but for now, he needed to pay better attention. To stay on his guard so she wouldn’t notice him. Who knew how she’d react to his following her. If she were mildly hostile earlier, now she may be outright antagonistic.
She stopped in front of her car, keys in hand. Then shook her head, as if arguing with herself. Her hair caught the sun’s rays, a deep auburn tint in the dark waves. She turned around, a full revolution, and Finn stepped behind a light post, while maintaining an appreciative eye on the way she filled her jeans. She made a sharp 180 and headed down the street.
What was that about? What had that phone call meant? Belle seemed concerned when Marissa told her to get help and run the dinner shift without her, as if this was not a commonplace event. As if Marissa never missed a day’s work. Was she going somewhere to a business meeting? What kind of meeting would have her looking so defeated, so emotionless?
He walked behind her, keeping his distance varied, on occasion crossing the street as she trudged on, almost in a stupor. An hour later she stopped and surveyed her surroundings. He guessed they’d gone a good couple of miles from Two West Two. This was a far shabbier part of town, mostly dotted with bars, car repair shops, and homes with occasional bars across their windows, the ones that weren’t in disarray. The ones that were in disarray, well—he supposed there was no reason to bar anyone from entering those.
She hurried across the street into a—
Finn looked for a sign. Anything that would identify the building. It wasn’t a place of business, as far as he could tell.
A couple followed her in. Then another couple, holding hands. Odd. Maybe it was a business? But one that was unmarked? What sort of business would that be? The green door had no identifying marks, not even a street number. In her state of mind, she’d be easy prey, probably not even paying attention. He couldn’t just let her be in there alone. Or maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he should go away.
And go where? There was nothing else, nowhere else to go. He had one mission. Marissa. Leaving her would mean he wouldn’t be accomplishing his mission. Well, that and the fact he didn’t want to admit to himself he wanted to be where she was. That in itself was too confusing to deal with. So what else was there to do but go in?
No, he’d wait and see if she came out. But first he had to make sure that there were no other exits. The building was two-story, white-washed brick, a metal staircase led to the second floor on the outside. Metal staircase with concrete steps and a metal, ornate handrail.
A quick trip around the building assured there were no windows. Odd, a building without windows. It used to have windows but they’d been sealed with bricks.
Finn took a spot across the street at a café and kept an eye on the green door. For more than an hour. No one came out, four more laughing couples went in. And a couple of unaccompanied women. And one man.
Finn stretched in the chair, the human epidermis uncomfortable over his own skin in this heat. The sun was lowering. Thankfully. But not going down, not yet.
Maybe he should make an entrance. Just to verify she was okay. For the mission, he told himself. Knowing he wouldn’t believe his own lie.
He crossed over and approached the door. Not even a peephole for security reasons. He tugged on the handle. The door yielded without hesitation. Dimness greeted his eyes. And took some adjusting to.
A bar.
This place was a bar. Jazz music drifted throughout the sofa and love seat dotted place. Candles and overstuffed large chairs added to the ambience.
But no Marissa.
He made his way upstairs. More sofas. No bar. Couples were in the sofas, but no one who was unaccompanied. Did he miss those, where were they?
He skimmed down the steps, two at a time. Around the corner. There she was. Her back was to him, but she was in front of the bar’s mirror. A drink in her hand.
He stepped back—quick—but NOT quick enough. She frowned at his image in the mirror, as if to be sure she wasn’t seeing things, and turned around.
She scratched her head, almost childlike in her action. He knew what that meant. Or hoped it didn’t mean what he thought it did.
“Finn.”
Her slurred word confirmed it. She was drunk.
“You’re following. You. Are. Following.” She took a drink. “Me.”
He didn’t know what to say. If he confirmed it would she accuse him of being a stalker? Would the bartender call the cops? That would be ugly. If he denied it—no point in that—she’d know the truth.
“I was concerned.” Might as well go with the truth.
“About me? Little ol’ me?” She set the drink down, and it splashed up, clearly a hard landing. “You’re a scout. For one of those developers.” A sneer marred her features.
He was confused. What developers? Did he want to let her know he didn’t know what she was talking about? May as well, since her thinking that he was a scout for a developer wasn’t working out too well for him. “I don’t know what you mean. What developers?”
She drew back, exaggeratedly so, almost theatrical. The stunned expression that replaced the sneer would have been funny, if the circumstances weren’t the same, if she didn’t hate him without a reason. “What do you mean, what developers? You don’t know? You didn’t—Belle didn’t—you—”
Evidently she wasn’t going to assemble a sentence that made sense, so he would have to take the lead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I left right after you did. You didn’t seem to be okay.”
“And you were worried about me.”
“We’ve already established that.” He pushed her drink away. She’d had enough and was too difficult to communicate with.
She brought it closer, took the straw between her teeth. The fluid rose through the opaque straw. She closed her eyes as she drank. If she weren’t getting on his nerves with her incomprehension, he’d have been—
—cancel that thought. Too late—
—he was aroused. Very much so.
Cursed woman. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the straw and damn if his body didn’t have a surge of electricity that flowed through it. Thoughts ran rampant through his mind. Thoughts and a visual. And just like that—wham!—his wings pushed up against the human skin. He hoped they wouldn’t pop through. That’s all he needed. Functional or not, his wings would not go unnoticed, even in a dark bar.
He shifted away, hoping that everything would subside. Not much time in this body and it was already controlling him and in return it threatened results that were uncontrollable.
“Oh, now you’re mad?” Her head was cocked, one eyebrow raised, green eyes gleaming in the dancing candlelight.
“No, but I am wondering what this developer business is all about.”
“Don’t worry about it. So if you’re a scout, but you don’t work for a developer, then . . .” She swirled the straw around and around in the glass, the ice tinkling a soft jingle. Her eyes followed the tiny whirlpool created by the straw. In a flash, her head popped up, her eyes wide, like she’d seen something. Or knew something. “I get it. You’re a talent scout. A headhunter for restaurants? Looking for managers?”
He took a second to evaluate an answer. She didn’t seem to be appalled by that idea, seemed pleased by it. As if that wasn’t a bad thing. As if it might actually be a good thing.
“Yes.” He tried to keep his tone confident, as if this was the truth. He raised himself taller in the stool. “That’s exactly right.”
She sank into a more relaxed pose.
He didn’t exhale in relief, not wanting her to know, but he felt his pulse going back to normal. And his passion, and with it his wings retracting.
-------------------------------------

Friday, July 25, 2014

How She Does It featuring Elle Thorne #MFRWauthor




An alien soldier without emotions.
Finn is three quarters Asazi and one quarter human. He’s a lieutenant in the Asazi army and his desire is to be the best soldier he can. He’s spent a lifetime denying his human side, only to find out that now it makes him key to a mission on Earth. A mission that includes Marissa Sanchez, Target 41, a determined, smart-mouthed spitfire that brings out emotions his Asazi nature rejects.
A human woman with a target on her.
Marissa’s dream is to keep her restaurant from being seized by ruthless developers. She’s broke, out of options, has a deadline, and a cheating ex who offers to marry her and solve her financial problems. Everything changes when a guy named Finn saves her life and provides a completely different kind of option.
We all know there are six elements of fiction. Who, What, When, Where, Why and How. I believe the first five lead to the sixth which for me is plot. What's your take on this?
 To me the most important part of a story is WHO. Readers connect with characters. The other stuff can make it interesting, but if there’s no connection, there’s really no story.
1.      How do you create your characters? Do you have a specific method?
 My characters aren’t something I create. They’re always in my head, long before the story comes to fruition. They simply find themselves in the right story for them. I know in general who a character is, but the story fleshes them out in a way that I don’t foresee. In fact, though I am a plotter, I really don’t know exactly how a character will react until they are put in that position which merits a reaction.
2. Do your characters come before the plot?
 Probably. They lie in wait until the right plotline comes into play. Then they take over.
3. Do you know how the story will end before you begin? In a general way or a specific one?
   Generally, yes. I do know.
4. Do you choose settings you know or do you have books of settings and plans of houses sitting around?
No books of settings laying around. J Yet.
Some of the settings I know. A different planet is definitely something I don’t know. It springs from the mind.
5. Where do you do your research? On line or from books?
Online and in person.
6. Are you a draft writer or do you revise as you go along and why? Do you sketch out your plot or do you let the characters develop the route to the end?
Sketch out for sure, that way I don’t meander too much.



Thursday, July 24, 2014

Thursday's Hero - Jetan from Moon Summoned

Just before the evening meal, Egeria heard an equis neigh. Radan opened the door, shouted a greeting and ran into the yard. “Jetan, come to the house. Why did you take so long to reach the farm?”
Egeria watched the men. The newcomer’s green eyes shone with laughter. His light red hair hung in a braid to the middle of his back.
“Been busy. Stopped here and there to earn coins by tending beasts.” He pointed to the equis. “This beauty was a gift from the Thamaturg after I treated his favorite mare. I’ve coins aplenty.”
Radan laughed. “For poor boys we’ve prospered. Look at my farm and house. Makes Pa’s look like nothing to brag about. There’s an orchard and a woodlot across the road that’s mine, too. Trag, take his equis.”
They brushed past Egeria. Their faces showed they shared a heritage, but the younger man was taller and leaner. He moved with a lithe grace. His eyes held none of the anger that smoldered in his brother’s eyes.
“Set a second place,” Radan ordered. “Jetan comes to stay a bit. Tave, fetch the jug of fermenti and move your things into Trag’s room.”
Malara offered hot herb-scented cloths. The man washed and sat at the table.
“My thanks, lady,” Jetan said.
Radan punched his brother’s shoulder. “No thanks needed. She does what is right to honor a guest. Have you grown soft since I last saw you?”
Jetan shook his head. “Just using the manners Ma taught us.”
“The family? Have they recovered from the earth shakes?”
“Last I heard. Not been home for more than a year. Ma was ailing. Pa beat her bad when the last born was a girl. Couldn’t help her so I left. I won’t go back.”
Radan poured fermenti into two small cups. “Neither will I. We’re best gone. Nothing for us there.” He touched his cup to Jetan’s. “You can find a place here. Lots of families need a man with coins to pay their taxes.”
Egeria placed a platter of fried pullet and hearth-roasted taters on the table. Radan gestured to Malara. “She’s first woman of my court. Carries my quickened seed.” He pulled her onto his lap. “Next week I’ll go to Angara and fetch a second woman.”
Jetan pointed to Egeria. “And her?”
Radan snorted. “Moon-touched. Locals believe to bed her will bring ill luck. Don’t want to stir them so I leave her alone.”
Jetan lifted a piece of pullet from the plate. Moon-touched? He could swear he’d seen awareness in her blue eyes. His gaze followed her movements at the hearth and his body heated with thoughts of plowing her. If he could win her, there would be no thoughts of sharing with Radan. Where did she sleep? Though if she was proscribed, he’d have to be wary. “Maybe I should visit the pens. Been near three months without a woman.”
Radan shook his head. “One of us must stay and I’ve a great need to get away. Since taking the farm at harvest, I’ve been no further than the village. Spend some days here and see if there’s a woman on one of the nearby farms you fancy.”
Jetan’s gaze drifted to Egeria. She walked like a filly newly come into season. Moon-touched? Maybe and maybe not.


Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Wednesday's Writer's Tip -- Series and Arcs or Plans #MFRWauthor

The jumping off point for these Wednesday's Tips is Writing The Fiction Series by Karen Wiesner.

Just as each story needs a road map to get from the beginning to the end, so does a series. Or does it? There are 2 kinds of series, the open end one and the closed end. Just what does this mean?

A closed end series is one when by the end of book three or four, the missing is found, the grail is in the hands of those seeking for it. Though each story is complete in itself there are larger problems to be solved. Fantasy series often follow this story. Lord of The Rings was written to be one story. Think of how long each of the three books was and consider having a book with all three in one. This book would have to be read with it resting on a hard surface like a desk. There are a lot of other series that fall into this pattern. The quest will continue but the underlying problem will remain. The reason the end of this series is closed becomes "there is some underlying reason for the quest and until the object is in the character or characters hands the story will continue." There are clues throughout the story that will lead you on to the next books.

Now for the open ended series. This series could go on forever since each story is complete and can be read without reading any other book in the series. Detective stories are often this kind since they are based on a single character who solves a crime, finds a murderer. Another series in open end is when there is a place involved or friendship. There may be references to the past books or appearances of the characters found in other books but the entire series doesn't need to be read for the stories to make sense.

If you've ever picked up a series book and read it. Starting in the middle of a closed end series will make things confusing. This happened to me several times while judging contests. The middle story was a contestant and frankly the story made no sense. Not having read the first or second story in the series I was in an uncharted area and other than the writing I found the third or fourth book hard to judge. The open end series gave me no problem in the judging since there was no need to read the other books before I read book 4 or 5.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Tuesday's Inspiration - A Story Is... #MFRWauthor


This will be the last one on this theme since I've reached the end of the book. Next week I'm sure there will be another way I've found to inspire me and hopefully you.

"A story is a larger life, created and shared  with others by a writer." Each story we write takes place in a world we create. The world may be the one we life in, a time in the past or the future, or a fantasy world. A story is the product of the writer's imagination but is also a product of who they are.

Every person in the stories you create to share with others carries a bit of yourself and also parts of people you know or ones you've watched. The road they follow through the story are invented to share with others. Honing the imagination keeps the writer's inventive people and places new even if they're the world you life in.

I have friends who say they only write contemporary stories and that they're true to the world. They are and they aren't. The trigger can be an event that has taken place in the world of reality but what is done with this idea changes that reality. So be inspired by what's happening around you and take the things you've observed into the past, the future or a fantasy world.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor


Meander 1 - Editing. The weekend was spend in edit heaven or hell. @ books of my own to go through and check for errors. One is completely finished. The other needs a final sweep through. The third book was for a friend, a newly published author and the story is great. The one thing I found here was the constant addressing of a character's name in the story. How are you doing, Harry?" I'm fine, Mary." That sort of thing becomes wearing after a time, especially when there are two people in the room and forgetting to use a comma before the name also can be annoying but something I've noticed in other works by diverse authors. Another thing was a use that's common now so I didn't correct it. That's the use of alright instead of all right. To me they mean different things, But once again, this is becoming common usage.

Meander 2 - My evenings are usually spent watching a bit of TV, mostly crime shows. I have little tolerance for TV comedies since I seldom find them funny. Mostly they bore me. There were go to channels that avoided this and I could watch re-runs of my favorite shows but they've fallen victim to comedies that don't seem funny to me. Or reality type shows that leave me cold though I will admit to looking in on food shows during commercials. I don't like commercials.

Meander 3 - Having spent so much time editing my WIP has fallen off the grid for a bit. I want to type in the rest of the chapters before I start this next to last draft where there's a good deal of re-writing. Not sure that will happen. I'm plotting out a new story for the Cancer heroine series but this one may be longer than the other ones. But I think it will be a better, stronger story. We will see.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Sunday Series - More on Katherine Miller's Adventures - The Midas Murders #MFRWauthor


After the murder at the church, Katherine feels a bit of guilt and happily accepts her friend Lars' invitation to visit him in Santa Fe. He is winding down his business and is recovering from the death of his daughter-in-law. On her arrival, she rents a car and drives to Santa Fe. But Lars isn't there and no one knows where he can be found. She waits with his son and granddaughter for a time and finally goes to bed. The phone rings and she answers. It's Lars. After calling a cab, she goes to the hospital to bring him home. He has no idea what has happened.

Thus begins the development of the romance that will end in book 5. Part of the reason I chose Santa Fe for an escape for Katherine was a visit I made. A week there was wonderful. The scenery and the food were such a fun experience.

For Katherine this is a turning point in her life. At sixty-five, she's ready not to be alone and Lars has been her friend for years. Only his daughter, his youngest child kept them from marrying when both their spouses died. Solving who wanted Lars dead and who wanted him to vanish brings the pair to realize there can be a future for them.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Saturday's Excerpt from Awakened by the Minotaur by Erin Moore #MFRWauthor

Excerpt:
Jesus, the way she said his name. Why did her voice have to be so warm and inviting? He was having a hard time concentrating on his driving. He hadn’t expected this—her—when he’d agreed to drive an American tourist around. He’d been expecting someone older. Graying. Overweight. Not this gorgeous girl with hair the color of honey.

She was petite, trim, her ivory white skin liable to burn in the hot Greek sun. And then she’d smiled—what color were her eyes? Blue. Definitely blue. He had to think about it, because he hadn’t been really looking at her eyes. The first thing he’d noticed were her lean, shapely calves. Now in the car he was trying not to look down and watch her perfect legs cross and uncross next to him. And not to think of the way her dress had clung to her ripe breasts when she’d emerged into the heat from the airport.

She reminded him of orchids opening. No, not orchids; he was thinking of her opening to him, spreading those sweet white legs for him and showing him her pink petals.

He downshifted angrily. He could not be thinking about her this way. He was supposed to be her guide, for Christ’s sake. Just concentrating on what she was saying was difficult; he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the week with her. His hand grazed her leg as he shifted again. Oh, sweet gods, that smooth skin. The supple warmth beneath his palm had enflamed him, made him want to push her dress up around her waist and welcome her to Greece.

“Sorry,” he said instead.

“It’s okay.” She seemed to be implying that it was more than okay, her voice soft and sultry. Was that an invitation?

He grew hard at the thought and they were almost to the pension. He was going to have to get out and pretend like nothing was wrong. He reminded himself again that he was only supposed to be her guide. And that the rites were tonight. Someone else would be writhing beneath him, satisfying his growing hunger. But it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the gorgeous American next to him.


Bio:
Erin writes sensuous paranormal romances set in exotic locales. Her latest book is a sexy minotaur shifter story in Crete.

A regular blogger for Marketing for Romance Writers and Heroes and Heartbreakers, she struggles to find time for writing her own. At home in Atlanta, she has two little paranormal beings as well as one unruly husband.

Look her up on www.AuthorErinMoore.com or, of course, on Twitter: @AuthorErinMoore.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Friday's How She Does It featuring Erin Moore "#MFRWauthor

We all know there are six elements of fiction. Who, What, When, Where, Why and How. I believe the first five lead to the sixth which for me is plot. What's your take on this?

            Totally agree. In a romance novel, we kind of know how it’s going to end. So it’s really all about the journey. How do we make our reader feel as if they can relate to these characters, even if they aren’t anything like them in real life? How can we make our characters different and unique?


1.       How do you create your characters? Do you have a specific method?

The setting, both time and place, always comes first for me, and then the characters develop from there.



2.       Do your characters come before the plot?
Most definitely. I mean, who they are as people sort of defines the plot and what sort of conflict they will have. For instance, in my latest book, Lara is very accomplished and bright, but she’s also always felt this strange lack in herself. And Teo, the hero, is really so stuck inside of his own issues – the whole “I’m a minotaur” thing, that he can’t see past that to accept how he feels about Lara. He also doesn’t believe that he can allow himself to get close to anyone else after what happened to his fiancĂ©e. So a lot going on for the two of them even before I started thinking about plot. I just knew there would be some sort of rites and a dark past for Teo.


3.       Do you know how the story will end before you begin? In a general way or a specific one?
In a very general way. I sort of envision that last scene – you know, the big “I love you, stay with me” one, sort of like a movie in my head, and that helps me to see where the characters have to get to.
   

4.       Do you choose settings you know or do you have books of settings and plans of houses sitting around?
Sort of both. For instance, in “Minotaur”, I’ve been to Greece (and loved it!), but I still had to research Crete to nail down the details. There are so many places that I want to set a story in that I find it hard to choose just one.


5.       Where do you do your research? On line or from books?
Both. For images, nothing beats Google Images. But for sense of place, any type of books help – novels, non-fiction, guide books.


6.       Are you a draft writer or do you revise as you go along and why? Do you sketch out your plot or do you let the characters develop the route to the end?
The one time I really tried to outline my plot, I ended up chucking the novel about halfway through. So I have gone back to just revising as I go, even though I know it’s taking more time. And, while I definitely have an end in mind, sometimes in the midst of a conversation my characters end up really surprising me with something they say. So I just let that develop.


Blurb:


When man becomes minotaur, dark passion takes hold…
Lara Castille always plays it safe in both love and life. But when she arrives on vacation in Crete, she is determined to enjoy herself. Old habits die hard, though. Drawn to her tour guide, the enigmatic and sexy Teo Lambros, she cannot let down her guard—until she takes part in the ancient and sensual rites at the ruins of Knossos. She dreams of the minotaur who takes her upon the altar, and wonders if it could be Teo who brought her to ecstasy.
A gray haze clouds Teo’s memory of the rites; he knows only that the bull has chosen him for his own. He fears that the land will once again need a sacrifice, as it did when it claimed his fiancĂ©e the year before. Though he cannot deny his need for Lara, he knows that protecting her from his desire is the only way to keep her safe.
As the island’s magic demands everything they have, Lara and Teo must discover what’s real and what’s imagined if they’re to survive the passionate sexuality that draws them together…
Excerpt:
Jesus, the way she said his name. Why did her voice have to be so warm and inviting? He was having a hard time concentrating on his driving. He hadn’t expected this—her—when he’d agreed to drive an American tourist around. He’d been expecting someone older. Graying. Overweight. Not this gorgeous girl with hair the color of honey.

She was petite, trim, her ivory white skin liable to burn in the hot Greek sun. And then she’d smiled—what color were her eyes? Blue. Definitely blue. He had to think about it, because he hadn’t been really looking at her eyes. The first thing he’d noticed were her lean, shapely calves. Now in the car he was trying not to look down and watch her perfect legs cross and uncross next to him. And not to think of the way her dress had clung to her ripe breasts when she’d emerged into the heat from the airport.

She reminded him of orchids opening. No, not orchids; he was thinking of her opening to him, spreading those sweet white legs for him and showing him her pink petals.

He downshifted angrily. He could not be thinking about her this way. He was supposed to be her guide, for Christ’s sake. Just concentrating on what she was saying was difficult; he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the week with her. His hand grazed her leg as he shifted again. Oh, sweet gods, that smooth skin. The supple warmth beneath his palm had enflamed him, made him want to push her dress up around her waist and welcome her to Greece.

“Sorry,” he said instead.

“It’s okay.” She seemed to be implying that it was more than okay, her voice soft and sultry. Was that an invitation?

He grew hard at the thought and they were almost to the pension. He was going to have to get out and pretend like nothing was wrong. He reminded himself again that he was only supposed to be her guide. And that the rites were tonight. Someone else would be writhing beneath him, satisfying his growing hunger. But it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the gorgeous American next to him.


Bio:
Erin writes sensuous paranormal romances set in exotic locales. Her latest book is a sexy minotaur shifter story in Crete.

A regular blogger for Marketing for Romance Writers and Heroes and Heartbreakers, she struggles to find time for writing her own. At home in Atlanta, she has two little paranormal beings as well as one unruly husband.

Look her up on www.AuthorErinMoore.com or, of course, on Twitter: @AuthorErinMoore.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Thursday's Hero - Kobe from Moon Summoned by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor

A gong signaled the first call for breakfast. Kobe, oldest son of Prince Genrai, pulled the rough woolen blanket over the thin mattress. His narrow cell in the Citadel of the Gladius for the Lord of Shadows held the cot, a small chest and a row of hooks on the wall next to the door. He put a spare uniform in the pack along with the few things he planned to take home.
He stood near the door and thought about the reasons for his journey. Like the other sons of the princes, the wealthy merchants and the landowners, he had been sent here for military training. The champions of the Gladius were supreme warriors.
Kobe pressed his lips in a firm line. He was different from the rest of the sons for he had talents like those of the priests. These talents had brought him to the attention of Sargon.
What he had to do would be difficult. As soon as he reached his father’s stronghold, he would demand an audience and declare his intention to give up his position as heir and enter the priesthood. His father had to agree. There were other sons in the inner court. Since he was her only son, his mother would weep. She would lose her place as first woman. Still, becoming a champion was a greater challenge than being a satellite of a father who would live for many years.
A knock startled him. “Enter,” he said.
A serving woman dressed in a gauzy chiton bowed her head. Her gown resembled flames, revealing yet concealing her lush body. “Kobe, son of Genrai, the Gladius summons you to attend him in the mustering hall.”
As he followed her swaying body down the hall, he repeated the vows he’d taken after he’d drawn his sword from the elements. “I will take no woman to my bed until I am sworn to the Lord of Shadows. I will eat no rich food or imbibe fermenti until I can control my talent. I will wear no fine clothes until I don the silks of the champions.”
None of his peers had taken these vows. He had, and he would keep them.
Until recently, he’d not been tempted to transgress, but during the past few months, the scantily dressed servants and their musky perfumes had stirred desire. Too often he’d prayed to move quickly through the ranks and be allowed a woman.
The servant continued past the door to the hall. Kobe entered. Sargon sat on the dais at the end of the room. Kobe knelt before the chair and touched his forehead to the stone.
“Rise and join me.”
Kobe got to his feet and sat on a stool beside Sargon’s chair. “You honor me.”
The Gladius smiled. “You leave this morning for your father’s stronghold. Is that not so?”
“Yes.”
“What have you decided?”
“There is no other choice. My father will have to name another as heir. To deny the gifts given by the Lord of Shadows would be wrong. To use my talent without proper training would bring disaster.”
The Gladius saluted Kobe. “Your decision pleases me. When you return your training will begin. As I was when you drew your sword, I’ll be your mentor.”
“I’m honored.”
“Your potential is great, my boy. I’m concerned about this visit you make to your home. Can you resist the temptations your father will place in your path?”
Kobe swallowed. His mother would push his father to do his best to sway him. “I must. I’ve no desire to stand in my father’s shade. I will carve my own place.”
Sargon smiled. “Well said. I believe you can resist rich food and strong drink, but I fear you will be sorely tempted. The women of your father’s inner court are comely and you’re of an age when the juices flow hot. I’ve watched your gaze follow the serving women. Heed this warning. To fill a woman’s empty vessel before you’re trained will sap your talent.”
Kobe saluted. “I hear and I will stand firm. Have I your leave to break my fast before I depart?”
Sargon clapped his hands. “This morn you will eat with me. There’s a task I would have you do.”
Two women arrived. One bore a tray with boiled ovas and bread. The other carried mugs of steaming bitter kafla.
Kobe waited until the Gladius took his portion. “Tell me what you would have me do.”
“Your father discovered a nest of women who would be soldiers and took one as a prisoner. He sent no word to me of the captive. I would know why.”
Kobe frowned. What was his father planning? He needed the favor of the Gladius to remain in his place as prince. “I will learn the truth.”
Sargon nodded. “If this tale is true and he holds one of those sworn to the Abomination, bring her to me. The time approaches when I will have need of such a one.”
“I hear and obey.” Kobe drained his mug.

“May the Lord of Shadows strengthen your resolve.”

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - More on Series - Story and Series #MFRWauthor


Having seen one needs maps to plan their series and also to plan each book, how does one go about this? I've heard about Story Arcs and I'm not sure I really understand what these are. There is also talk about Series Arcs. Again I've never quite figured this out.

When writing a story, there are steps along the way that must be there to make the story a cohesive one. For a story I've always looked at what is called an arc and try to decide what goes where. There are a number of elements that make a story. The character or characters have a goal of place they want to reach. In reaching this place, there should be obstacles that must be overcome. I've always planned my stories in this fashion. Plot is always important to me. Character is important. But I don't know my characters until I've seen them in action.

The opening of a story introduces the reader to the characters establishes their end goal. Then comes the middle this is where they must face opposition, there must be problems to face and dilemmas to solve, all leading up to a moment of decision. This is a high point in the story. Once the character or characters have faced the need for this decision, and made the decision, the story comes to an end. But if you're writing a series, especially those with the same character you need to plant the hook for the next book.

Each series is different since there are so many kinds of series. So a series arc or map would be different from one for each story. But let's go back to the story and how you can make it into a series. There can be an unsolved subplot. A character or characters whose story needs to be told can be introduced. The initial problem can be solved but there is an over all kind of problem to be solved. Or there could be nothing at the end of one story to lead to the next story - the series depends on the major character and a new adventure.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Tuesday's Inspiration - A Story Is... #MFRWauthor

"A story is the triumph of ego over fear of failure."  Exactly what does this mean to you? How many stories would never have been published without the author's confidence in what they've written. Even the stories we feel are poorly written that are published are because someone's ego pushes then to create the story and to see it hit the world in some kind of fashion.

There are many ways for a story to be seen and read by others. It does take guts to put the words one has written out for the public to see. And sometimes a writer's ego is bigger than the story they publish. These days, anyone can publish a book and say they are an author. But the proof is in what happens after the story is out there for people to buy.

I rather look on the other side. There are people who don't fear failure but fear success. They imagine their life falling apart if what they write is a success. Then worry about what other people will think of them and judge them by what their imagination had produced. They may even find a publisher to purchase their story, but they do nothing to help them along. And on the other side of the equation is the writer whose ego is so big they know the book they publish is wonderful and they push their story at everyone.

What the quote means to me is that the story needs a writer who knows the markets, listens to critiques of others and who learns and grows as they take the journey to become a published author.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor


Meander 1 - Boxed sets - I must admit they're a bargain but I don't think I'll be buying any of these specials again. Part of the reason is that I wonder how much of a boost they give the authors. The other is that usually I find about half the books in the set aren't worth the trouble of reading them. If there was a way to jump to the next book without having to hit the next page button I might enjoy them. Another reason is that I haven't found a new author whose books I must have the next one or the ones in the series. I do have a bit more success when all the stories are by the same author. Latest one I bought meant paging through five of the books for varying reasons. At least one was for the need of editing. Two weren't done in a style I find readable.

Meander 2 - Promoting when you're a guest. I give two days to authors a week on this blog. Some of the people featured are wonderful guests and try to interact with those who come to visit. Others never even visit the blog to say thank you for having me. Some of the guests promote their appearance. Many don't. I do promote when there are guests. I'm not sure why this is but when I guest on a blog, I let people know and I check the blog to see if there are comments and I do respond.

Meander 3 - I feel as though I'm working on the story that will never end. I know it will Toth's Priest has gone over the halfway point to the word length I've envisioned. But there are still rough spots that need to be smoothed. I do think I've come nearly to the re-write part of the book. Problem is the next book is beginning to take form. When that happens I become impatient. Patience is needed for an author. Perhaps someday I will find some.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Sunday - My Series - Katherine Miller Mysteries #MFRWauthor


The second book in the Katherine Miller series of cozy mysteries is Requiem Murder. The story was inspired by the church I attended and the choir loft where the organ bench was even with the railing at the edge. A bit of my old fear of heights came to play here as well. There was a wooden guard rail that extended the height of the railing but the organist removed this because it confined him. Suddenly I had the murder site and then it was on to find who was killed and why.

The first story in this series was more a when story. When was someone going to kill Rachel? This story became who was going to be killed? And who was going to be accused? Once again, exploring the dynamics of the people involved. Some of the old characters returned. Katherine's family, a neighbor who had grown up to become a police officer and of course Robespierre.

This story has a most unique murder weapon. Not going to tell you since the book must be read to learn. But Katherine has a frightening moment or two in the book.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Saturday's Excerpt from Ice and Peace by Clare Dargin

Excerpt for Ice and Peace


“Sir,” a soft voice, feminine and sweet, beckoned his attention. He knew the voice, like he knew himself. His heart skipped a beat.
Rising slowly from his chair, Keegan cleared his throat and straightened his uniform. Suddenly, the room seemed unbearably long as he walked the three feet or so to be near her.
As he took in every detail of her, he was stunned silent. She wore a Marine Corps uniform with Navy insignia, with her hair neatly pinned off her neck and shoulders. Her clothes were pressed with a crease that could cut a major artery and her demeanor was impeccable. Something was not right.
Still, Caitlin was a sight for sore eyes. She was beautiful. Her petite frame was perfectly accented by the curves of her figure. And her brown eyes and coffee-brown skin was smooth, creamy.
Standing at attention, she did not meet his gaze. Though it was customary not to do as a sign of military courtesy, he could tell she was not doing it for that reason. Her gaze was different. Circling her, he tried to see if he could catch her watching him out of the corner of her eye.  In fact, she appeared to be staring blankly ahead.
Peering directly at her, he spoke in a soft tone. “At ease.”
She relaxed.
“Cate. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” she responded mechanically.
Pain pierced his insides. She was definitely not there. Keegan placed his hands on his hips and hung his head in defeat. The one thing that was supposed to go right did not. For whatever reason, they had placed her in a deeper state of mental control than she’d ever been in. He controlled the hostile emotions brewing with him. Touching her face gently, he felt her icy skin.
This is unacceptable! Not here. I will not let this happen here. Not under my command.
“Chief, listen up,” he said in an authoritative tone. He knew in this state, it was the only way he could speak to her and still have her respond.
“Yes, sir.” Her gaze became even more distant.
Her response fueled his anger. “You are going to hightail it down to the doc and receive a full examination. Tell him it is based on my orders. He will know what to do. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Knowing that she was under the influence of cryo neurotransmitters, Keegan figured the only way to combat it was to get someone to reverse it. They usually wore off once she was away from the stimulus triggers for a long period of time. But considering her stimulus triggers were high-ranking officers in uniform and combat situations, being around here meant she was going to be in a drone zone for a very long time. The last thing he needed was a zombie on board, especially one in charge of the lives others.
Only the jerks in psyche warfare thought doing this to someone would be a good idea. As long as he was running the ship, none of that would be allowed. There weren’t going to be any super zombies soldiers on board his ship. And he’d rollover in his grave before he let them do it to his wife.
“After you come back from the doc, you will report to me, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are there any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
She did an about face before leaving the room. Keegan clasped his hands behind his back. In the blink of an eye, his joy had turned to sorrow. Now faced with the responsibility of looking after his wife, he wondered how could he handle the burden of command and still protect the woman he loved.

To purchase you can buy it at Barnes and Noble or at

Amazon-   http://www.amazon.com/Peace-Cold-Warriors-Universe-Book-ebook/dp/B00DZV25QS/ref=la_B005CREN68_1_3/190-5643811-8364225?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1404345298&sr=1-3


Bio

Clare Dargin is an author of Science Fiction and Romance and has been writing stories all of her life before being published in 2007. She’s a great fan of the two genres and loves promoting them.

An educator by profession, she possesses a Bachelor’s Degree in English from a major mid-western university. She presently resides in the Midwest and she hopes to expand her writings to include non-fiction, historical romance, and contemporary novels.

You can find her on the web at-

Her Blog-  claresblog2thehaven.blogspot.com

Twitter-  https://twitter.com/Clare_Dargin

Facebook-  https://www.facebook.com/clare.dargin

Goodreads-  www.goodreads.com/author/show/2750164.Clare_Dargin