Sunday, January 31, 2016

Sunday's Book - Divided Dreams - Moonchild Book 4 #MFRWauthor #medicalromance

Divided Dreams

Rob Grantlan has given up medicine to become an author. As a Gemini, having two careers seems just right. His quiet days are overturned by the death of his wayward sister and his taking guardianship of his two month old niece. When he learns the father of the infant is his old flame Andi Sherman’s brother a plan unfolds. Years ago, he hurt her. He still loves her and he wants to regenerate that love.

Andi Sherman is now a nurse practitioner in Pediatrics. She has vowed never to return to Fern Lake. The offer of a partnership in a friend’s practice is tempting. She refuses until she learns Rob has given up the practice of medicine. She believes he will leave town. On the day after her July birthday, she returns and comes upon the accident, finds the dying woman and the baby. When she learns the little girl is her niece and Rob hasn’t left town she is conflicted. She still loves him but she can’t trust him. News from her brother brings a threat.

Will Tammy’s presence in their lives find a way to allow them to love and trust again?

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Saturday's Blurbs - Books by Charmaine Gordon #MFRWauthor

Elizabeth Malone wakes up the morning after an amazing night of passion with her husband of forty years to find a note: Dear Lizzie, it’s not you, it’s me. Abandoned by her husband, disappointed in daughter Susie’s casual attitude Dad’s having a mid-life crisis, Beth decides to re-establish herself as the winner she once was. When Frank Malone returns, he’s in for a big surprise!
Kindle –
AllRomance Ebooks –
Smashwords for All Ereaders –

A twist of fate intervenes when Shelley keeps a secret that threatens to break apart the Costigans and her future. A mysterious client, Deanna Rose, enters Haven, victim of a savage beating under strange circumstances. Shelley investigates and finds Ms. Rose has an unsavory past. With the reputation and safety of Haven at stake, Shelley is at risk to lose everything and everyone she cares about.

The Catch
Tom Donnelly, once known as The Catch – every woman’s dream guy, has fallen down every rung of the ladder he once worked so hard to climb. On New Year’s Day, he realizes just how far he’s fallen, and makes a list of resolutions to change his life. He vows to regain the trust lost from his family, his law firm, and his friends – and maybe even find the right woman this time.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Friday - What She Was Before - featuring Charmaine Gordon #MFRWauthor

. What were you in your life before you became a writer? Did this influence your writing?

Listen while I tell you a story of an Air Force wife who wrote skits to entertain at the fancy Air Force Club Dinners every Sunday.  And off he went so I got a job at a local shop in Shreveport. And then my pilot flew far away for this was the Korean war. I got a job modeling and drawing ads for the local department store in Shreveport. My sweetheart returned and of course Pregnancy occurred. When he left for Africa, I worked in a music shop and met Mel Torme, a famous singer. He came in with his entourage. Much fun with Chicago Conversation until he left. Then I colored photos for a major shop. That’s the way it was done way back then. Later on when we were were civilians , after moving all over the country we settled in NY bringing with us many children and a new life. When she, my only girl, turned sixteen, I drove to NYC to see if I could make a living and boy did I ever. Movies, Daytime drama, Stage, Voice overs for Betty White. What a time.

2 Are you genre specific or general? Why? I don't mean genres like romance, mystery, fantasy etc. There are many subgenres of the above. I write Romance with Suspense all with a touch of humor.

3. Did your reading choices have anything to do with your choice of a genre or genres?
No. I read murder and mystery.

4. What's your latest release?When Double Becomes Single

5. What are you working on now? A humorous story title Six Degrees of Persperation

6. Where can we find you?
Face Book AuthorCharmaine Gordon
Twitter @CharJGordon

Thursday, January 28, 2016

Thursday's Opening Scene - Gemstones #MFRWauthor #Historicalromance #Regencyhistorical


Chapter 1

Calcutta, July 1810

"Miss Nicola. Miss Nicola."
The whisper woke Nicola Gordon. Like wasps around ripe fruit, tales of native uprisings swarmed in her thoughts. She groped beneath the pillow for the knife she kept there.
The girls. She had to protect her sisters.
"Miss Nicola, wake up."
"Who?" She tried to keep fear from clogging her voice.
"What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?" Just two days ago, she had seen her father and his young native assistant off on a buying trip. Fear gripped her spine. The knife fell from her fingers.
"Your father. You must come."
"I can’t leave my sisters. What if they wake and find me gone?"
"They will be safe. Your papa needs you. We were set upon by thugs and he was hurt. I found a safe place for him to stay until I am sure we were not followed."
Nicola pushed aside the netting that enclosed the bed. She found her shoes and grabbed a dark cloak. Her heart thudded in her chest. Though she and Sarad had engaged in mischief years ago, her childhood friend had become sober and responsible. So had she.
"Where is he?"
"The place is not far." He slid open the door to the verandah. Nicola followed him to the gate in the compound wall. The aroma of wet earth rose from the garden, but outside the gates, the recent rains had failed to mask the scent of exotic flower and spices of the odor of garbage. The absence of the moon created an ominous darkness. She hurried through alleys and along streets beside her silent guide. Her thoughts conjured a thousand tragedies.
She stumbled. A groan escaped.
Sarad gripped her arm. "Be silent as the tiger stalking prey."
His warning chilled her. Who knew what would happen to an Englishwoman caught in the streets at night.
Ahead, she saw the looming shadow cast by one of the city’s many temples built to honor one of India’s multitude of gods. Why had they come here?
Sarad pulled her into a dark passageway that led into the temple. Their passing stirred the dust of the ages, musty and dank. Finally, they emerged in a torch-lit room. She followed her friend to a recessed alcove.
"Papa!" The blood-stained bandages around his chest and head alarmed her. "Papa, oh, Papa." She knelt on the stone floor beside him.
His dark eyes were unfocused. His skin felt hot.
"The eye. Siva. The eye."
"I don’t understand."
"Nicola. Must warn. Must tell."
"She is here, Sahib Gordon."
Nicola gripped her father’s hand. The flickering torchlight revealed his pain-filled features. "Papa, I will take you home and see to your wounds."
He took a shuddering breath. "Must leave Calcutta."
"Where will we go?" She couldn’t think of leaving. Calcutta was home.
"To England. Ian Grey will send an escort." He gasped a breath. "Your grandmother and Denmere. Old Earl dead. Marry the new. Distant cousin."
His words shocked her nearly as much as her memories. "My grandmother did not protect Mama. I don’t want to marry and live with strangers." Why was he saying this? He would get better and until then, she could care for her sisters. For ten years, since her mother’s death, this had been the case.
His fingers tightened around hers. "You must. Danger for you. For sisters." He struggled to sit up. "Your knowledge. Gems."
Fresh blood seeped through the dried stains on the bandages. "Rest, Papa." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I cannot leave you."
"Protect sisters."
She chewed her lower lip. "I will keep them safe."
He sank back. "Promise. Marry Denmere."
She couldn’t say the words. "Papa."
He pressed a velvet pouch into her hand. "For you and sisters. Not Fergus. Now go."
Though she thought about disobeying, she kissed his cheek. As she and Sarad left the alcove, tears cascaded down her cheeks and blurred her sight. She stopped to wipe her eyes and stifled a gasp.
Torchlight illuminated statues and wall carvings of men and women engaged in activities she had read of in the Sanskrit manuscripts her teacher had given her. Her eyes widened in astonishment. She hadn’t believed the human body could assume such convoluted positions.
Sarad grasped her arm. "We must go."

His whisper broke the spell. She tore her gaze from the figures that fascinated and repelled. Her cheeks burned as though she stood beneath the mid-day sun. She followed Sarad into the dark passageway.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Those Darn Cliches #MFRWauthor #amwriting

Just what is a cliche? They're those words and phrases we all love and use every day. Problem is using them in writing makes the work seem tepid.  Almost any part of what you write can be a cliche.

What about the plot? Sure there are dozens of cliches in plots. Probably every one that has been written borders on being a cliche. Makingit less than one is up to the writer and the skill he or she ahs on evolving the story. Problem is if a writer goes too far from the cliched plot one or two things can happen. The reader can love it and suddenly the original plot spins a dozen or more follow throughs. The other thing is that the readers will reject the story as being too odd and too different. So finding a cliched plot and making a spin on this is difficult. I've tried this and have both succeeded and failed. But that's the life of a writer

Cliches are often a very real part of the rough draft. Being in a hurry to get the story down makes the writer use the first words that appear at the end of their fingers. The cure for this is to rewrite and rewrite removing each cliche as they're discovered.

There are ways to avoid cliches. In the next few weeks I'll look at some of the ways to avoid the lost child, the murdered spouse,and other things that could become cliches from landing in your book.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Tuesday's Inspiration - Inspired by Bird by Bird #MFRWauthor

The second part of Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott is titles The Writing Frame of Mind. Intriguing title. Are writers different than other people? Do they have a specific frame of mind? I believe the answer is yes.

What sort of things go into finding that specific writer's look at the world. A good friend once said her mother called her a chronic liar but she was really gathering ideas for writing. Most writers I know have this rick fantasy life. I know from the time I was a child I told myself stories to lull myself to sleep at night. Sleep often was and still is hard to come. So these stories continue to be spun at night. Sometimes during the day. Actually those night time stories often morph into real stories I put on the paper. A healthy imagination will bring the writer's frame of mind into being.

Curiosity is another thing to explore. Do ou overhear people's conversations or actions and suddenly your imagination is making up stories that may or may not be true. So look around and watch people every day. Also sit still and think of things and places you've seen and try to recreate them in your head.

Put yourself into that frame of mind. If people stare at you when sometimes you speak aloud what you believe is a great line of dialogue, just shrug. You're in the zone.

Monday, January 25, 2016

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #foodromance #poetry #writing

Meander 1 - Something new for one Poem is the second

    Available for Pre-Order

    Seducing the Chef - Allie Blakefield, editor of Good Eatin' wants to do a feature on Five Cuisines a restaurant across the river from NY City. Her father forbids the feature and won't say why. She's not one to sit back and be ruled by someone. She borrows a…
Seducing the Chef - Allie Blakefield, editor of Good Eatin' wants to do a feature on Five Cuisines a restaurant across the river from NY City. Her father forbids the feature and won't say why. She's not one to sit back and be ruled by someone. She borrows a friend's apartment. While leaning over the balcony she sees a handsome dark haired man doing a Yoga routine. He looks up and she is struck by the Blakefield curse. Love at first sight.  

Meander 2 Poem -

Beauty Slept

Beauty slept, her woman form perfected.
Thoughts slumber in a fog of fantasy,
Opium wasps of smoke keep her in a dream.
Her breath perfumed by vapors of romance.
Soft silken threads spin a mirage and hold
Her entranced with staring vacant eyes.
Fast in the enchanted land of fairy tales
Dark night of knowledge kisses her. Beauty
Wakes into a landscape stark and dreary.
Whirlwinds whip her dream to tatters. Send them
away. Stench filed clouds assault her nostrils
Viral voices stab at her, rasp her with
Razor edges. Cut her from her days of
Dreams into a state of wakeful watching.
Vaporized illusions, vanished fantasies.
What now, Sleeping Beauty? Where do you go?

Meander 3 - Writing goes well and I've finished typing in Wizards of Fyre. Will send it off on Feb first. Have begun Kathy's story and found a place to call about learning about things to put into the mystery part of the story. An nearly finished with writing A First Sight 4 and there are only 2 more to go. Have nearly finished with the Photographer in the typing end of things. There are a dozen other things to do but I'll manage all of these before one knows it.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Sunday - My Book - Melodic Dreams #MFRWauthor #Occupationaltherapy #medical romance

Melodic Dreams - Available at most outlets

When Maria and a child she says is his arrives on Jay’s doorsteps, he is in the middle of composing a musical. Though the four year old has his eyes, Jay can’t be sure this isn’t a scam. He believes his dead wife took steps to rid herself of the child. A need for his assistance to help with childcare while she works is Maria’s reason for arriving in Fern Lake. She also believes her nephew should know his father. Can Jay accept and learn to love his child and deal with the attraction to a woman who physically looks like his dead wife? Can Maria deal with his trust issues and a threat from her own family?


By Alice Orr on May 4, 2015
Format: Kindle Edition
This story tugged my heartstrings. Part of that is because I identify so closely with the heroine Maria. I've was a single parent once myself and I know how demanding that can be. Maria takes on the same demands to parent her nephew Jamie. He's a lovable four-year-old for sure but I still admire her. Especially when she extends herself even further and tries to unite the boy with his estranged father Jay who misunderstands her intentions entirely. Which is maybe understandable since she's financially distressed and he's wealthy. Meanwhile Maria and Jay are attracted to each other from the start but that only complicates the situation more. Plus Maria injures herself and... Well I'm not going to spoil the story for you. I was rooting for this trio to become a family from the start. Each of them needs the other and they all need to be together. But there are obstacles to overcome. Substantial obstacles. That's what makes this such a compelling read. That and the chemistry between Maria and Jay which is hot and gets hotter still all the way through. I recommend this as Janet Lane Walters' best novel yet.
Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
Janet Lane Walters has done it again. Another sexy read. I always look forward to her books.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Saturday's Blurbs - Books by Ruth A. Casie #medieval #fantasy #romance

Knight of Rapture
He crossed the centuries to find her…
For months Lord Arik has been trying to find the right combination of runes to create the precise spell to rescue his wife, Rebeka, but the druid knight will soon discover that reaching her four hundred years in the future is only the beginning of his quest. He arrives in the 21st century to find her memory of him erased, his legacy on the brink of destruction, and traces of dark magick at every turn.
A threat has followed…
Bran, the dark druid, is more determined than ever to get his revenge. His evil has spread across the centuries. Arik will lose all. Time is his weapon, and he’s made sure his plan leaves no one dear to Arik, in past or present, safe from the destruction.
But their enemy has overlooked the strongest magick of all…
Professor Rebeka Tyler is dealing with more than just a faulty memory. Ownership of Fayne Manor, her home, has been called into question. Convenient accidents begin happening putting those she cares for in the line of fire. And then there’s the unexpected arrival of a strange man dressed like he belonged in a medieval fair—a man who somehow is always around when needed, and always on her mind. She doesn’t know who to trust. But one thing is certain. Her family line and manor have survived for over eleven centuries. She won’t let them fall, not on her watch… in any century.
Buy Links:

The Guardian’s Witch
Lord Alex Stelton can't resist a challenge, especially one with a prize like this: protect a castle on the Scottish border for a year, and it's his. Desperate for land of his own, he'll do anything to win the estate—even enter a proxy marriage to Lady Lisbeth Reynolds, the rumored witch who lives there.
Feared and scorned for her second sight, Lisbeth swore she'd never marry, but she is drawn to the handsome, confident Alex. She sees great love with him but fears what he would think of her gift and her visions of a traitor in their midst.
Despite his own vow never to fall in love, Alex can't get the alluring Lisbeth out of his mind and is driven to protect her when attacks begin on the border. But as her visions of danger intensify, Lisbeth knows it is she who must protect him. Realizing they'll secure their future only by facing the threat together, she must choose between keeping her magic a secret and losing the man she loves.
Buy Links:

Timeless Moments ~ The Final Chapter  This is a five author, five story anthology
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Beth Alexander, best-selling romance writer has lost her muse, her fan base, and maybe the loyalty of her beloved agent. Sales of her new release plummeted on the best seller list, and her contract with her publisher is in jeopardy. A heat-of-the-moment social media comment about a rival author goes viral, and not in a good way. She heads home to Havenport, Rhode Island for a Christmas book signing, and a chance to lay low and let the storm pass.
No one knows that the rival author is the stuff male cover models are made of, lest of all Beth Alexander.
Beth’s chance encounter with a handsome, witty stranger has her heart racing, and her muse seemingly back. But, will the new story line she’s created save her career? Or will her handsome savior betray her and turn out to be her worst nightmare?
Buy Links:

Friday, January 22, 2016

Friday - Ruth A. Casie -What She Was Before #MFRWauthor

1.       What were you in your life before you became a writer? Did this influence your writing?

Before I was an author I was an international product manager for a large US bank. One of my responsibilities was giving product seminars for clients. I know I will be dating myself here but this was in the days before webinars. I traveled overseas, conducted the seminar and afterwards met with clients to close deals. To optimize on my airfare, my trips were a minimum of two weeks. I usually traveled alone and met with my bank’s in-country officer at their location.  
I read on those long plane rides and found a book helped to make eating alone more tolerable. I would stuff my suitcase with 6-8 romance novels. They were quick reads and I would give them away when I finished them. That’s how I got hooked on romance stories.
Fast forward to 2009. A good friend told me she was going to write a romance novel and I volunteered to brainstorm, beta read, do anything to help her. Once we started I realized I had my own story to write. So we decided we would each write our books and try to sell them together. She had several other priorities. She was busy with training for the NYC Marathon and looking at colleges with her daughter. So while she put her writing on hold I continued to write and in four months I had 104,000 words. My first novel was complete.
2.       Are you genre specific or general? Why? I don't mean genres like romance, mystery, fantasy etc. There are many subgenres of the above.

Most of my stories are medieval romances. I’m captivated by the romance of the time, the bravery of the knights and the strength of the women. I’m intrigued with Scotland and the Highlands. My games as a child were filled with castles, princesses and knights. 

3.       Did your reading choices have anything to do with your choice of a genre or genres?

Before I started writing my go-to authors were Julie Garwood, Jude Deveraux, Johanna Lindsey, Amanda Quick, Lynn Kurland and Catherine Coulter. I loved Karen Marie Moning’s Highlander series. I also read Clive Cusler, Tom Clancy, Dan Brown and Michael Critchton. What I write is a cross between the two, a romantic adventure about strong women and the men who deserve them. 

4.       What's your latest release?

My latest release is KNIGHT OF RAPTURE. It’s the second book in my Druid Knight series. For months Lord Arik has been trying to find the precise spell to rescue his wife, Rebeka, but the druid knight will soon discover that reaching her four hundred years in the future is the easiest part of his quest.
Bran, the dark druid, follows Arik across the centuries, tireless in his quest for revenge. He’ll force Arik to make a choice, return to save his beloved family and home or stay in the 21st century and save Rebeka. He can’t save them both.
Rebeka Tyler has no recollection of where she’s been the past five months. On top of that, ownership of her home, Fayne Manor, is called into question. When accidents begin to happen it looks more and more like she is the target. Further complicating things is the strange man who conveniently appears wherever trouble brews—watching her, perhaps even….protecting her? Or is he a deliberate attempt to distract her? Rebeka can only be sure of one thing—her family name and manor have survived for over eleven centuries. She won’t let them fall… in any century.

5.       What are you working on now?

The working title of my new story is Einstein’s Theorem. The story is about a woman who unearths Einstein’s journal and the secret to time travel. Wrongly fired from her job as an appraiser at the Boston Museum of Fine Art, she decides to test the theory by going to Paris in 1892 to prove she was right. Her ex-finance works for CERN labs in Geneva, Switzerland. An accident has happened with the atom collider and a hole has been blasted into the fourth dimension. His job is to patrol the mist between times and prevent time travel. What will happen when the reconnect? Will they choose their mission or their last chance for a timeless love?

6.       Where can we find you?

When not writing you can find me home in Teaneck, New Jersey, reading, cooking, doing Sudoku and counted cross stitch.  Together with my husband Paul, we enjoy ballroom dancing and going to the theater.  We have three grown children and two grandchildren.  We all thrive on spending time together.  It’s certainly a lively dinner table and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Online you can find me at:
Ruth’s Newsletter Signup:

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Thursday's Opening Scene - Choices #MFRWauthor #hospitalpolitics #medicalromance


Chapter 1

JOHANNA GORDON RAKED HER fingers through her short curls and glanced at the clock centered on the wall between her diplomas. Seven-thirty. No wonder her shoulders ached. She’d been hunched over the desk since four.
            With a sigh, she closed a folder and added it to the neat stack on a corner of the desk. She pursed her lips. For two weeks, the budget for the nursing department at the hospital had consumed her time. Unfortunately, money would remain her focus until she found areas to cut costs without compromising patient care or breaking the current contract with the nurses. Not that Hudson Community’s CEO cared about either option. She stretched to ease the tension between her shoulder blades.
            “Why couldn’t I...” An idea occurred and she smiled.
Something to consider. Richard Jamison didn’t care which programs were dropped as long as his pet projects remained intact. Just this morning he’d reminded her she belonged to administration and to remember where her loyalties lay. Not with him. She’d risen through the ranks and saw more than the profits and losses he tossed around.
            The loudspeaker on the wall crackled. “Dr. Red to the Emergency Room.” In staccato fashion, the operator repeated the message three times.
            With a well-honed response, Johanna rose, grabbed her briefcase and, in three strides, reached the door. The call for any surgeon meant an emergency requiring immediate surgery. Her body quivered with excitement. She dashed through the empty outer office, crossed the hall and hit the call button for the elevator.
            Just like an old fire horse, she thought. The alarm clangs and I’m off running. She stepped into the empty car. What was her hurry? How much help would she be? She’d been away from the bedside for ten years.
            As she exited on the first floor, she nearly collided with Rachel Hill. Her friend’s dark hair had slipped from the neat bun at her nape. Like a sail, Rachel’s lab coat flew behind her. She carried two units of blood.
            Johanna frowned. Rachel usually worked the day shift. “Bad accident?” Johanna asked.
            “The worst. A six-year-old hit by a car. And to think I volunteered to switch.”
            As Johanna matched strides with her friend’s half-running gait, the soft leather briefcase slapped against her thigh. “Need an extra pair of hands?”
            “Hardly. If there was another body in the room, they’d be standing on the patient. Be glad you’re out of the zoo. Not that I blame people for caring about a child, but if the patient was old, indigent or dying... Don’t let me get started.”
            “Want to talk?” Together they dashed up the five steps to the emergency room level.
            Rachel straight-armed the door. “Maybe I do. Dinner on—” The door closed and cut off the rest of her words.
            Johanna frowned. By the time they found an evening to fit Rachel’s schedule, she would have forgotten the incident that had triggered her anger. Instead of talking about the hospital, she would discuss her children. Despite their closeness, this topic always added to Johanna’s aching knowledge that she had no one.
            She continued to the exit. For the past few months, she’d wondered if the climb up the administrative ladder had been the right choice. Ten years ago, she’d been an ER nurse, meeting challenges and solving a dozen crises every day. The decision to leave the ER had been made for financial reasons. The higher salary had paid for her sister’s and  her parents’, home health aides. Six months ago, the family obligations had ended, leaving Johanna with an empty social life.
            For a moment, she stared at the red brick building. The hospital’s center section was five stories, while the angled wings were four. The sight always made her think of a bird in flight. Lately, her office here had seemed more like home than the house eight blocks away.
            A reluctance to move held her prisoner. Spray from the lawn sprinklers misted on her face and arms. She studied the bank of peonies along the walk leading to the hospital’s front entrance. Their sweet scent mingled with the aroma of wet earth. With a sigh, she overcame the inertia and crossed the street.
Brisk steps carried her down the hill. In the distance, the Hudson River reflected the colors of the setting sun. At the bottom of the hill, she turned the corner. She hurried past houses dating from colonial days to a turn-of-the-century Victorian that towered over two houses built in the last ten years. Each house had a unique charm.
            She paused beside the yew hedge surrounding the yard of the house where she’d lived all her life. As she strode up the walk, her hand brushed the clipped edges. The scent of roses reached her. Red, pink and white blooms covered the trellises at either end of the porch.
            She climbed the steps, turned and paused. With arms crossed on her chest, she stared at the street. As though trying to erase a chill, her hands moved along her arms. A soft sigh escaped. The ice of loneliness couldn’t be rubbed away like frost from windows on a winter morning.
            Her hands dropped to her side, but she made no move to go inside where shadows of the past gathered. She had no desire to face memories of the years when she’d been a devoted sister and a dutiful daughter.
            She looked at the darkening sky. Sometimes, she felt her entire life had been lived in the moments between day and night—with every instant tinged with gray, and every action controlled by duty and responsibility. Were they virtues or walls she’d erected to keep from reaching for life?
            The sound of children’s laughter carried across the hedge from the house next-door. Like a gusting wind, envy rose. Her childhood memories held few laughing moments, just those of trying to teach games to a sister who lacked the ability to learn.
            With a habitual gesture, she combed her fingers through her hair. Life should be more than ritual and routine.
            As she moved from the edge of the porch, a pair of lovers, lost in each other’s eyes, strolled past. Johanna’s eyes burned with unshed tears. For her, only dreams of romance existed and, in her fantasies, she found adventure.
            She unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. The screen door closed with a snap. She flipped the light switch and the ceiling fan stirred the stale air.
            In the living room, she dropped her briefcase on the sofa and turned on the CD player. Strains of Tchaikovosky’s Sleeping Beauty followed her into the dining room.
            Memories swamped her. The room became a miniature hospital ward where an elderly man and woman lay in twin electric beds. Matching walkers, wheelchairs and commodes stood against one wall.
            Six months before, after the second death in three weeks, she’d scrubbed the walls and floor in an effort to ward off grief through frantic labor. After returning the hospital equipment, she’d hired a painter to re-do the room. The freshly painted walls and the refinished oak floor failed to blur the lingering memories.
            Why did I allow my life to take this road?
            Duty and responsibility. The voices were her parents’.
            In the kitchen, she seasoned a chicken breast, put it under the broiler, made a salad and cleaned strawberries for dessert. As she ate, she searched for ways to fill the long hours until Monday, but ideas remained as illusive as the shadows in the house. Why did the weekend seem longer than the five-day work week?
            After dinner, she opened the kitchen door and stepped onto the stoop. A crescent moon hung above the trees at the end of the yard. Wind rustled the leaves of the locust and oak trees and carried the scent of roses. She rested her hand on the wooden rail. Was there a different way to live?
She closed her eyes and entered the fantasy world she’d created as a child to escape what couldn’t be changed. A few minutes later, with a sigh, Johanna forced herself to resist the lure of escape into the world of her dreams. As a child, she’d needed these fantasies to escape reality. Was this a habit she couldn’t escape? How could she resist being in a world she could control?
            She closed the kitchen door, slid the bolt into place and turned the security lock. Before going upstairs to the bedroom, she made rounds of the first floor to check the windows and front door.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Revision, Revision, Revision #MFRWauthor #writing

Revision is a strong part of the writing experience. Some writers hate the process. Others embrace the process. Some ignore revision believing everything they write is carved in stone. It's not. The words in the story are easily erased. All the writer has to do is hit a button.  So what is revision.

Revision is about re-writing any scene that can be improved. Writers do this anywhere from one to thirty or more times. This is a given. So revision is important.

How many times do you ned to revise. Part of the answer belongs to developing critical judgment. Revision starts with knowing grammar, spelling and punctuation. You have to think of the manuscript as a whole.For me in this day of computers, it's important to have a print copy of the entire manuscript. Then I comb. What things do I look for. Dragging scenes. Weak motivation. Faulty dialogue. Awkward prose/ There are many more and part of the ability to do this comes with experience and not letting the story go until you've looked at every aspect of the story.

Revision also involves making every word count. Have you used empty words, strung out lots of descriptive words. Most worters over write the first round. I don't. My rough drafts are sketchy but I still have to go through the story and make sure I'm neither under or over writing. Painful or not you have to give up the love of every word you've written and check to see if all those words are important to the story and if they don't take them out.

Accept cheerfully any suggestions from critique partners or editors. You don't have to make the changes in the suggested way but you need to make the changes to improve the story.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Tuesday's Inspiration - More From Bird By Bird - Am I done? #MFRWauthor

 Anne Lamott always makes me chuckle. She equates finishing a book to tucking all the legs of an octopus and not letting them go. I hear this so often. "I think I'm finished with my book but how do I know?" I'm not sure there's an answer that suits everyone.

There are some questions to ask yourself. Are there any loose ends someone will find? I did this once to a friend who left a loose end that troubled me. The book was already published but when she had a chance to re-publish the book she got rid of that loose end. Have the characters reached a satisfactory ending? This is easy when writing a romance that finds the hero and heroine in each other's arms. In a mystery, the answer is two fold. Has the hero or heroine found justice and has the villain recieved that justice. There are a dozen other things to look at to make sure the story is over.

I usually tell people this. "When I feel like I'm going to vomit if I have to look at the story again I know it's done. It may not be perfect but perfect doesn't happen."

How about you? Do you have a special reason that tells you the story is completed and it's time to start a new adventure?

Monday, January 18, 2016

Meandering On Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry

Meander 1 - Poem - Health Hazard

I'm not looking for Prince Charming.
He's dangerous to my health.
Love strikes with viral suddenness
And grips you in the gut.
There's lasitude when he is gone
Plus loss of appetite.
Fever by night and chills by day
The price is very high.
Another great discovery
Is when you find the prince
You kiss him and he changes fast
Into a slimy frog.
Who wants to be responsible
For metamorphosis?
From frog to prince or prince to frog
I'll let me change themselves.

Meander 2 - Lately I've been added to several Facebook groups I did not choose to join. Why other people would do this bothers me. I will select the groups I join. I don't need others to make a decision for me. I'd like to unjoin these but I don't want to hurt someone's feelings. I really would like to unjoin these groups but I won't but I also won't put any nores up on them,

Meander 3 - Writing. These days it's more like typing. I have to finish typing Wizards of Fyre to send it off to publisher between the first and tenth of next month. I also would like to send off Seducing the Chef. It at least is typed. Waiting for a cover there. I am doing a little writing between typing stints and really wish I could sit at the computer for more than a half hour at a stretch. Typing Seducing the Photographer. Have the Innkeeper to go and will soon have The Doctor to join this plus Kat's book. I'll get this all together soon.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Sunday - My Book - Rekindled Dreams Moonchild Book 2 #MFRWauthor #medicalromance

 Rekindled Dreams - available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, All Romance Ebooks, and other outlets.

Returning to Fern Lake after ten years for the funeral of his cousin and teenage enemy, Simon Parker learns his high school sweetheart is nine months pregnant and seven months divorced from his cousin. Their meeting is complicated by her labor and driving her to the hospital. An attempted cheek kiss lands on her mouth and those old feelings resurface.

Dana Collins responds to the kiss but Simon walked away ten years before when she refused to go all the way. In those ten years he has never tried to reach her. Her marriage to his cousin lasted less than two years and she knew she’d made a mistake.

Can this pair put the past aside and let the embers of an old love be rekindled?

Format: Kindle Edition
Can Simon Parker right the wrong and pain he caused Dana Collins? When he drives her to the hospital to deliver her baby, the attraction is still there between them. Can Dana learn to trust Simon again? Will her ex husband’s twin sister complicate their lives? If I say more I’ll give away the entire book. Ms. Walters weaves a tale of a dysfunctional wealthy family, compassion, and love.

Format: Kindle Edition
Reunion romances are my favorite kind of stories. The chemistry sizzled from the beginning and never lets up. Nice escape for a summer night. 

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Saturday's Blurbs features Books by Elf Ahearn #MFRWauthor

A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing is available only at There is a special promotion going on until the end of January, so you can download it for less or something.

In Lord Hugh Davenport’s opinion, women of the ton perpetually hide behind a mask of deception. That’s hard for Ellie Albright, the daughter of an earl, to swallow—especially since she’s disguised herself as a stable hand to get back the prized stallion her father sold to Hugh to pay a debt. If Hugh learns her true identity she’ll lose the horse and her family will go bankrupt. Somehow, though, losing Hugh’s affection is beginning to seem even worse.
Already only a step away from being snagged in her own web of lies, Ellie’s deceit threatens to spin out of control when Hugh’s mother invites Ellie and her sisters to a house party. Now Ellie has to scramble to keep Hugh from knowing she’s the stable girl he wants to marry, while simultaneously trying to win his trust as herself. Can she keep her costumes straight long enough to save her family? And even if she does, will it be worth losing his love?
A Rogue in Sheep's Clothing

Elf Ahearn

Friday, January 15, 2016

Friday - Elf Ahearn - Who She Was Before #MFRWauthor

So I have this sleeper published in 2013 that is still climbing Amazon’s rating chart, which is why I’m back on the promo slog. The book is titled A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing, and as of this writing it’s #62 in Victorian romance. It actually takes place during the Regency, but since it’s an intense “page turner,” (according to the critics) I guess they figured readers of Victorian novels would find it more acceptable. Here’s what I’d like, though; to reach #1 in all romance, okay? Okay. That said, I’ll get to the Q&A part of this posting.

1. What were you in your life before you became a writer? Did this influence your writing?

 A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing features a magnificent stallion named Manifesto, so it’s not off topic to note that I was a horse as a child. I whinnied, I pawed the ground, I walked, trotted, cantered and galloped, and in the spring when violets bloomed, I grazed on the lawn. My father was a college professor and once a year he’d lecture about evolution and how humans came to walk upright. He spiced this oration with an anecdote about me continuing to crawl on my hands and knees though I was well past toddlerhood. Obviously I was a horse lover, and I was lucky enough to have my own pony, Bettikins, who was a far cry from Manifesto. Though she was chubby where Manifesto is sleek, and it was hard to get her to gallop, while Manifesto is a racer, she taught me the behavior of horses. Being a horse, however, taught me how to live in another’s skin, and I use that skill with every character I write.

2. Are you genre specific or general? Why? I don't mean genres like romance, mystery, fantasy etc. There are many subgenres of the above.

So far, I only write romances taking place during the Regency in England. They’re my sister’s favorite books, and she got me into this romance writing gig, so… But I do love writing historical novels. I’m an old soul and I think the Regency suits me. Plus, I love that my heroines can’t press a button on their cell phone and get the police to help them out of a dire situation. They also have to deal with horses, which makes me very happy. 

3. Did your reading choices have anything to do with your choice of a genre or genres?

My reading choices had NOTHING to do with my choice of genre, I’m ashamed to say. I’d scarcely read a romance before my sister suggested I write them myself. It’s been a joy to discover so many marvelous female voices. Frankly, romance writers are awesome!

4. What's your latest release?
Right now A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing is the only book available. My second novel in the series, Lord Monroe’s Dark Tower, is in my total possession, and I don’t want to re-release it until I’ve done some rewriting. The love story sucked, if you’ll pardon my potty mouth.

5. What are you working on now?
I just finished the third novel in the series, which is titled A Duke in the Rough, and I’m searching for a publisher. Hopefully one that will print the whole series.

6. Where can we find you?
My Website is
And A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing can be found on Amazon—just click the link.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Thursday's Opening Scene -- Code Blue by Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #medicalsuspense

Code Blue

He crouched in the cemetery that embraced three sides of the hillside parking lot across from Bradley Memorial Hospital. A massive family marker shielded him yet allowed him a clear view of the steps, the street and the door of the Emergency Room. Dark clouds slid across the surface of the moon. Lights, set high on poles around the perimeter of the lot sent finger shadows groping among the cars.

The watcher straightened and edged from behind the granite marker. White puffs of vapor from the shallow, rapid breaths he took coalesced around his face. He held his body as rigid as a tombstone. As he waited for the evening nurses to end their tour of duty and hurry across the street to their cars, his narrowed eyes focused on the brightly-lit hospital entrance. Every night for a week, he had watched while excitement and anticipation had circled like a swarm of hornets. Would she come tonight?

"I'll never leave you." When he was eight, Mommy had said the words that had become his litany. That broken promise had brought him here.

He stared at the steps. When would Susan come?

When Mommy was a patient, Susan had been her favorite nurse. He had liked Susan, too, but she hadn't stopped those other people from hurting Mommy. His shoulders tensed.

"I'll never leave you. They'll have to kill me first."

The night Mommy died was etched into his memories. On that dreadful night, he had begun his plan to make them pay.

Mommy would be unhappy about what he meant to do. To her, nurses were special and Susan more wonderful than the rest.

He rocked from his heels to his toes. The last time he had disobeyed, Mommy had threatened to tell everyone how bad he was. He had promised her he would be good. His hands curled into fists. Sometimes he wanted to feel the heat of accomplishment so much he felt sick.

He gulped a breath. Tonight the heat would blossom and he would feel powerful again.
Susan was like Mommy. She would tell. He chewed on his lower lip. Her death would free him to still the people who had hurt Mommy on that dreadful night.

His smile became a grimace.

He had trusted Susan but she had failed to keep Mommy safe. Though he wished to see the others dead, Susan had to be first. He had laid his plans carefully, and while he had considered all the things that could go wrong, days had become weeks and then months.

The bright lights across the street caught his attention and stirred his hopes. She had to come tonight. He wanted to be free.

His hand brushed Mommy's tombstone. He pressed his fingers against the engraved letters of her name. He cocked his head and listened to the whisper of the wind.

"Nurses give so much to others. Someone should take care of them."

Mommy's husky voice thrummed in a corner of his mind. Her face appeared. Tears spilled from her eyes. He shook his head. Why should he listen to her when she had left him?

Sometimes at night when he slept in her bed, he caught a glimmer of her presence. For fleeting moments, the scent of her perfume brought her to him.

He squared his shoulders. Since he was eight and Daddy died, Mommy had watched him carefully. One day, her vigilance had wavered. The neighborhood bully had fallen from a tree and broken his neck. That awful boy shouldn't have torn up Mommy's flower garden.

Mommy had liked the candy and the other presents he had given her every time he disobeyed. He groaned. Who would like his presents now?

Where was Susan? Waiting made him anxious. She had to come so she would be just like Mommy.
He saw her. Hazel eyes, sad eyes, Susan's eyes, Mommy's eyes. Brown hair swirled to hide her siren smile. He reached for her, but she vanished into the darkness of the night.

The chill November wind flowed across his nape. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket and touched the weapon he had brought.

The sound of leather scuffling against asphalt caused him to turn and scan the parking lot. When he saw no one, his gaze returned to the hospital entrance.

Someone dashed across the street. A flash of white showed beneath the woman's dark coat. He held his breath. Susan had come. It had to be her. A rush of anticipation built to a peak. She was here. The nurse ran up the steps beside the cemetery.

A darting shadow startled him. With stealthy movements, a dark-clad figure edged between the cars. The nurse paused beside a battered tan sedan. A hand stretched to grasp the purse that dangled from her shoulder.

"Susan, watch out." A bellow proclaimed his rage. If she was attacked, he should be the attacker.
Mommy wouldn't like that. "A good boy never hurts a woman." She had never guessed what he had done, not even when he had given her the tri-colored bracelet she had always worn.

"No," he shouted.

The dark figure fled and nearly tripped over the single strand of chain that separated the parking lot from the cemetery.

The watcher smiled. Mommy would be proud of him. He couldn't wait to go home and tell her what he had done tonight.

A shrill scream rose. From her? From him? He bit his lower lip and clenched his hands. He stared at the woman he had thought was Susan. She wasn't, but she had been in Mommy's room the night she died. Intent on completing what the mugger had begun, he stepped toward the chain. What was he thinking about? He couldn't, not tonight. Susan had to be the first. He returned to Mommy's grave. Her voice rode on the wind.

"What will become of you when I'm not here to look after you? I'll never leave you. They'll have to kill me first."

But she was dead and they had killed her.

"Mommy, don't leave me. You promised you would never go."

The nurse ran to the steps. She shouted and waved to the group of women who hurried across the street. He slid deeper into the shadows. Car doors slammed. Engines roared. He waited until most of the cars had left the parking lot before he went to his own. As he drove home, he wondered why Susan hadn't come.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Craftsmanship Part 4 #MFRWauthor #amwriting

Sometimes showing motivation for a character's particular action can't be done at that point. There can be ways around this. This happens when the viewpoint character isn't the one performing the action. Allow the person through whose eyes the scene is being shown be the one to speculate on what happened. "I wonder if she's thinking about being betrayed before. Those are harsh words." "Is he experienceing pain? that why he's saying those hurtful words?" Now those speculations may or may not be right but they allow the reader to join the speculation and to recall the other reveals about the character being viewed.

Another way when motivation would make for an awkward bit is to have one of the characters ask a question. This will allow the character to provide an answer that hits on motivation. "I won't go to the dance with him." "Why?" She thought marcy was head over heels about Bob. "I'm just his second choice and I'll never be second to anyone." Shows a lot about the character and motivations.

Adverbs are useful tools but used too often muddy the prose. They can become a habit that forms a patters. We've all seen this in dialogue where each character's speech goes something like this. He said laughingly. She sad sadly. He asked hurriedly. You get the picture. Sometimes using one of those ly words is what's needed

So one of the main partsof craftsmanship is being able to find ways to show the characters' motivations in various ways. That took me a long time to learn though sometimes I managed to do this without thinking. Ialso fell for the adverb trap but I've learned to use this like a bit of seasoning.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Tuesday's Inspiration - Bird By Bird - Plot Treatment #MFRWauthor

I'm still delving in Anne Lamott's book for inspiration and just finished reading the segment on Plot Treatment. This brought to mind my first few efforts in writing novels. I certainly whipped through knowing I had the characters and the idea and knew where I wanted the book to go. That first draft turned into a lot of taking wrong turns and never quite reaching the end of the story. Then an editor sent me this word of advice. You have many elements to make a good story but you really need a road map to decide not where you're going but how you're going to get there.

The interesting thing was we were planning a trip and got one of those trip planners by AAA and suddenly I knew what I had to do. This plan for the three day drive was broken up into segments.

So later I set down to write what I called the chapter synopsis. I looked at this like my telling the story. There was littleor no show in the story. When I finished I had about 20 pages that had a lot of words written there but this was a plan of the story from beginning to end. I've used this plan ever since then and it certainly makes writing the books easier.

My advice is if you're having trouble figuring where your story is going or should go, try writing a chapter plan. You may not use all that's in those pages. You may have to tear it apart at some point in the story and change what goes in the chapters but doing this might just inspire you when you sit there and don't know where you're going. You may find a plan sends you speeding to the end.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Meandering On Monday With Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry #writinglongeviety

Meander 1 - Poem

Carpe Noctum

My love, your frost-kissed head of hair
Holds more appeal than untinged locks.
Though myne seems young, if you look close
You find tracts of an artist's brush.
My body's taut and so is yours
From dieting and exercise.
Oh come before arthritis ice
Settles in our aging joints and
We become as the winter's sun
Heading for the longest night.
Let us flare in one small fire
Make a warm night off season.
Mildly reminiscent of the
Bonfire days seized in our youth.

Meander 2 _ Writing longeviety. I have now become my 48th year of becoming a published author. Granted there were months and even years when I didn't publish being entangled in other affairs like a return to nursing and other things that seemed important at the time. I remember the first sale with the same wonder as I do each new one. Hopefully there are a few more years so I cn finish all the stories that need to be written or revised,

Meander 3 - My writing is going slowly but it's going. I am working on the fourth of the six novellas and am quite frustrated. I would like to see them published again but they are still up at 2 sites. I don't see why the publisher doesn't take them down there when she has at the other three or four places. Typing the changes into Wizards is going slowly also. There's soo many little and big ones that must make sense. So I slog.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Sunday - My Book - Shattered Dreams - Moonchild 1 #MFRWauthor #medicalromance

Shattered Dreams - Available at most venues

Torn apart years ago by lies and threats, Rafe Marshall returns to town and confronts Manon Lockley. She has been told he died on the night he stood her up for their senior prom.

When she faints, Rafe catches her and realizes he hasn’t stopped loving her. Manon carries anger and now grief that wasn’t real. Rafe wants her in his life, but she doesn’t want to talk about what happened in the past. She can’t be sure if her father or someone else told lies about Rafe and she doesn’t want to know. Can Rafe persuade her to listen? Not without a battle.


TOP 1000 REVIEWERon June 15, 2014
Manon gets stood up on prom night by her boyfriend Rafe to then be told he's dead, twelve years later he walks back into her life and she doesn't know what to do or think, has everything for the last twelve years been lies, why did he leave and who told her he was dead. Rafe has always loved Manon, the accident left him with scars and gaps in his memory to finally fully get his life back he needs to talk to Manon and by sorting out the past he can then move on with his future hopefully with her.
This was an interesting book which starts with the twelve year anniversary of Rafe's death and together we discover what actually happened all those years ago.

The story of the death of young love and the birth of adult love. It is the in between that gets you. Also the knowledge that you can't stop real love.

on October 15, 2013
i liked this story, it was okay and had potential to be better if the characters were more developed and the conflict less forced. A man she thought dead walks into her office and she doesn't want to find out how that was possible, really? She is willing to accept she is still attracted to him but she doesn't want to find out how he could still be alive? She was a little juvenile, holding a grudge from when she was seventeen and the guy stood her up because he was ran off the road but only accepts it when it's convenient for