Tuesday's Inspiration - Urge to Write via Sue Grafton #MFRWauthor #inspiration #SueGrafton

Any time I meet people and tell them I'm an author, almost all of them say that someday they would like to write a book. Not all of them do, though lately more people are entering the realms of published author. Self-publishing and small presses with electronic books have pushed people to write.  Something I read in an essay by Sue Grafton made me think about what might be missing that keeps these people who say someday I'll write a book from penning that book.

"First of all, there is the urge to create, the need that comes to us from some formless state, something stirring that will not let us rest." This urge has led Ms. Grafton to write a wonderful set of mysteries.

Has it led you into writing down word after word until you have a story? It has me. I know I feel uncomfortable if too many days pass without my working on a current story. This itch has been in my life for a very long time. From sitting on the porch with friends years ago and making up stories, or putting on plays in a neighbor's garage telling stories had been with me. Of all those story tellers I'm the only one who went on to write books. I often wonder why I couldn't do anything but scratch that itch and put word after word on paper. How about you? Did you have a group of storytelling friends? Did any of them go on to write, too?

Like Ms. Grafton, I also became a reader and explored a lot of interesting and strange works of fact and fiction. Then came the day when I had to try. High school, and I started a lot of books and worked on one and then another. Went to a hospital nursing course. My mother cleaned out my room and threw all those budding stories away. But the itch never stopped. Finally I began to painfully start to write. My care studies became, not works of fiction though sometimes the instructors wondered, but delving into more than the stated facts of their case. I looked at the families and their reaction to the conditions. I even went to visit these people in their homes and added a bit of setting to the stories. This has definitely helped me when I write a story with a medical background.

How about you? Has the itch remained and do you scratch it every time you sit down to write.

MeanderingOn Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #Poetry #newrelease #amwriting

Meander 1 _ Poem - Black Lava Crabs 1

Black scurrying across the dark rough rocks
It stops to tighten claws into the crevased stones.
Th salty spray then splashes over it.
White foam showing a moving rock with claws,
A camouflaged crustacean this crab.

Meander 2 - Snow - The snow began during the night and covered the ground with whiteness. According to the weather report the temperature will rise and soon the snow will vanish. What a shame since the white of the snow covers the brown grass and makes the area look wonderful. But I'm sure the snow will come again and stay for a bit. Sure hope there will be a light dusting for Christmas.

Meander 3 - Writing. Seducing the Blakefield Sisters has been released as a double. Seducing the Blakefield Brothers will come out soon. This has created a problem since there are two more stories in this collection. Seducing the Friends doesn't sound very good. I need to come up with another title so I can get this done. Thinking about Seducing the Sweet and Spicy. Will run this by my publisher. If this is a take, I can start and finish this. The rest of the writing has slowed since I've been getting the two doubles going. Must get back to work very soon,

Sunday's Book - Seducing the Innkeeper #MFRWauthor #contemporary #romance #Vermont

A chance photograph sends Mark Blakefield to Vermont to find something he lost and didn't know about. He has a son. He also has a way to find the woman he fell in love during his last year of college. Her disappearance when he went to pick her up for dinner puzzles him. Though he searched for Christa Parsons for months and never found her. The photograph taken by one of his writers for Good Travelin' shows an inn in Vermont. He rushes off to solve the mystery and claim his son.

Christa Sommers runs the family inn left to her by her mother. Besides making the inn successful, she is raising her nine year old son, Davy. She has to deal with her younger, selfish half-sisters and she has reached the end point of her patience with them. 

When Mark arrives she is stunned. Now she has to explain who she never told him about Davy. Part of the reason was her attempts to find him were foiled by a secretary and the other was being swamped by work. One sight and she fears falling in love with him or losing custody of her son.

Can Mark figure why he was looking for someone with the wrong name? Can he persuade Christa he has loved her for all those years and convince her to share her life and her son with him?

Saturday's Blurbs featuring Books by Frank Talaber #MFRWauthor #Paranormal #Mysteryromance

Shuttered Seduction (from Books We Love Ltd)

Some pray to find a love that tears your heart from the boughs of your sinews. THE ONE enters Julia-Rae's life and sets her world into turmoil. Only what if that person has designs on your business and claiming your career? Does love tear asunder all that each holds dear? 

Well, she did twap him in the rear with her bandanna. but it was still love at first sting, er sight.

Or will the evil of money prevail on the winds of seduction?

Shaman's Lure (from MuseItup Publishing)

When all hell's broken apart with one of its angels. The dead claim life from the living. Your one clue to solving the year's most gruesome murder has vanished. A family is missing, presumed dead and the spirits wait to take over from alcohol's haze. There's always tomorrow. But ask Carol, because that's when the shit hits the fan and there's no turning back to yesterday.

Raven's Lament (from Books We Love LTD)

 Environmental destruction unleashed. Spirits cut free to walk this world. Gods awaken and a reporter's dream becomes his worst nightmare as he finds the love of his life. Only to have it torn away. So, to the rescue comes a mad man, who makes our hero question everything he's ever learned in this lifetime. Everything except the woman that's stirred his heart like no other. He's got believe in himself and fight to claim her back.

 Here's one for my book to be out this spring.

Thunderbird's Wake (from Books We Love LTD)

 A penitentiary is a dangerous place and into the world of the criminal enters a saint. Well, bearing rattles and guardian beasts, the native born find him a saint. To the rest he's more nuts than a squirrels winter stash. There's a god asleep, awakening. Humans that seek justice and a sprite that needs justice from humanity.

So what makes you want to break into one?

You can ask Charlie, but he ain't telling. And if he did you wouldn't believe it in a dozen lifetimes.

 Come enter, the madness this spring

Friday's Interview featuring Frank Talaber #MFRWauthor

Day 1 

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?

 Agreed. Once I've figured out the first five, then the plot follows. I usually have a basic plot in my head. Murder, mystery etc. But the characters or the timeframe or location begin to play away with the rest as I answer the first five.

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

 No. That's the weird part. I might see someone or something on TV and ask myself what if? or I look at someone and ask the same thing. What if? So I guess I'm wrong. My method is asking what if? the who, what, why, when, how, take over from there.

2. Do your characters come before the plot?

Often yes. I might have a basic idea for a plot, but the characters soon form and take over from there. Usually changing the plot in unexpected ways.

3. Do you know how the story will end before you begin? In a general way or a specific one?

   I sometimes write the final scene first or very early on, and build towards it. But the characters dictate the middle ground.

4. Do you choose settings you know or do you have books of settings and plans of houses sitting around?

I usually pick a setting and then research the area and history etc. The research, I find, helps build the story and scenes. For Example I'm working on a murder crime novel set in Victoria. In the research I found out it has a reputation for one of the most haunted cities in Canada. So I've added a ghost and put a character that is visiting Victoria for the hauntings.

5. Where do you do your research? On line or from books?

 I used to mainly go from books. But a lot is now done online. Everything from pictures to location information can be found very quickly.

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?

A draft writer, sorry I don't struggle behind a team of horses or cows. HA! But I've a wicked, twisted sense of humour. No, I usually believe in writing flow and just pound out the story as it hits me or as the characters bribe me. So, beer and red wine is very effective. Oh, and comic books. They will get you everywhere with me. Actually I read thousands of comic books in my younger days. The action, visuals still play in my head. that's usually what I see, scenes like in a comic book. Boom, Boom, Boom. One step, one scene at a time, without the cheesy ads.

 7. Where can we find you on the net?

https://www.amazon.com/Frank-Talaber/e/B00UC407R0

http://twosoulmates.wix.com/frankt-author-blog

http://www.bookswelove.net/authors/talaber-frank/

https://www.facebook.com/Frank-Talaber-805296946204873/

Twitter: @FrankTalaber

Thursday's Second Scene - Seducing the Innkeeper #MFRWauthor #Vermont #romancecontemporary

Mark Blakefield sat behind the desk in his office. He listened to his senior writer describe his New England vacation. “Found the Green Mountain Inn on our last day of exploring places for a feature in Good Travelin’.

“Impressive was it?” Mark asked.

“Owned by a single mom. Been in her family for generations. Lots of history. An inn for all seasons. Fabulous food. Scenic vistas. Spring, leaf peeping, lake with boats, fishing, hike and riding trails. Snapped a bunch of photos.” He slid a stack across the desk. “Have a look. Owner’s easy on the eyes.”

Mark stared at the stack. Why did Jonas insist on using a camera with film when phones and digital cameras were available? Mark tapped the desk. “What did your wife say?”

The older man winked. “She liked the idea of you heading there.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “The pair of you on another match-making junket?”

Jonas shrugged. “She thought you would like the lady.”

“I’ll check the photos and see if the place deserves a feature.”

“And I’ll wait to hear.” Jonas strolled to the door.

Mark turned the photos over one by one. The leaves on the hillside had just begun to turn. Another showed a lake shimmering in the sunlight. He studied several shots of a large inn. Another showed a garden, a two story house and several cottages. Buried near the end of the stack he found a picture of a boy around nine or ten mugging for the camera. He stared at the next picture. A woman stood beside the boy. Mark’s jaw clenched.

“Damn her.” What was Christa Parsons doing at this inn? Mark opened his laptop and started a search for directions. Was the woman really Christa? Could he be mistaken? Had he forgotten what she looked like? Not possible. Her face and her body were engraved in all his cells. He printed the directions. With the photo of the boy in one hand and his laptop in the other he strode to the door. He stopped at his secretary’s desk. “I’ll be out of town for several days. Maybe a week.”

“Where should I say you are?”

“Just a phone call, a text or an email away.”

He didn’t wait for the elevator but took the stairs to the basement parking garage. He sped from his spot into a traffic nightmare. Honking horns, screeching brakes and raised fists and middle fingers sent him on his way until he reached the saner major highway. When he reached his condo he felt as if he’d fought a war. He dashed inside, packed and settled at the kitchen table. After zapping a frozen burger he headed to the living room and removed a picture form the photo album on the coffee table.

Back in the kitchen he stared at the two pictures. Had to be. Why hadn’t she told him? He intended to learn the answer to that and to a dozen other questions. He tucked the photographs in his jacket pocket, grabbed a six pack and a tin of cookies. With the burger in a hand he loaded everything in the trunk of his silver sports’ car. He slid behind the wheel. Christa Parsons had some explaining to do.

Though eight P.M. was a bit late to start the trip a touch of anger and impatience to know why spurred him on. His need for action prodded. He couldn’t sit at home and brood while he asked his friend, Jules, to investigate.

Why hadn’t she called him? Why had she vanished without a word?

For ten years her disappearance had puzzled him. Had the fault been his?

His thoughts drifted to the days of falling in love. As per the Blakefield curse one look and he had fallen hard and fast. They’d spent a long weekend of mind-blowing sex. There had been more than physical attraction. Their likes and dislikes had meshed. The ending had been abrupt and brutal.

She’d run to her dorm to change clothes. As he’d left to pick her up for dinner his friend Tony had returned from the beach. His brother, Matt had called with news. “I’m busy.” Mark remembered saying. “Got to go. I’m in love.” He’d handed Tony the phone and dashed to Christa's nearly deserted dorm. She hadn’t been there. The two people he’d encountered had never heard of Christa Parsons.

Mark revved the engine and backed into the street. Jonas had discovered the where of the missing Christa but the why remained unexplained. When had Christa Parsons become Christa Sommers? Had she married? Jonas had called her a single mother. Was there an ex lurking around. Mark couldn’t imagine anyone letting Christa go.

At midnight he found a motel, slept until six, ate breakfast and was on the road by seven. After grabbing a burger and fries at a fast food place for lunch he continued. He pulled into the parking lot of the rustic inn. The two story sprawling building had a large screened porch. Two wings spread from the central section. The number of cars in the parking lot brought a moment of concern. Were there rooms available?

He shrugged. Didn’t matter. If not here, he would find somewhere and haunt the inn until he knew all. As he left the car he paused and surveyed the scenery. The hills blazed with colors. Scarlet, orange and yellow were framed against a background of dark green.

Though he wasn’t amused, Mark grinned. Christa Parsons, here I come with questions. I hope you have good reasons for your actions.

Along with his anger he felt a pulsing need. Those four days with Christa had been filled with fabulous sexy laughter and a sharing of dreams. Before he left Vermont he would know what went wrong and why she had hidden their son from him.

He dropped the keys in the pocket of his black leather jacket and strode toward the entrance. Two young women stepped onto the porch. They wore tight jeans, skinny tops and boots. Both carried jackets. As they approached he noticed a slight resemblance to Christa. Their dark brown hair lacked the strands of gold he remembered in Christa’s hair. Their features were cruder. Sisters? Cousins? He paused at the foot of the steps and waited for them to pass. Their voices reached him.

“I don’t understand why Christa said no.”

“If we keep on her she’ll change her mind.” The taller of the two halted. “Always works.”

“It has to. I’ll go buggy if I have to hang here much longer.” The second young woman’s shrill voice made Mark wince. “How can she say we have no share in the inn? Daddy was the owner. Mom said so. That makes us as much of an owner as she is.”

“She has to give us the money. I’m tired of being an underpaid servant.”

Mark stepped aside to let them past. So all wasn’t perfect in Christa’s world.

The taller young woman scowled. “I’m not waiting ‘til ski season for some action.”

The second groaned. “At least this place rocks then.”

“Not if she sells.”

“We won’t let her.” She reached the bottom step, saw Mark and smiled. “Well, hello.”

“Do we know you?” the shorter one said. “You look kind of familiar. Are you staying?”

“Depends.” He brushed past them. He knew the type and he didn’t want what they offered. He strode to the door.

Just inside he stopped short. Though her back was to him he had found Christa. A battle raged in his thoughts with desire and anger stirring for top spot. His heart raced. His hands clenched. Memories of love-making rose and were countered by his knowledge of the son she’d hidden from him. His gaze roamed from her head to her spine.

She turned. Her breasts were fuller than he remembered. He recalled how they had responded to his touch. The urge to lunge across the counter and kiss her until she cried for release raged through him.

Mark stepped to the counter. “Hello Christa Parsons.”

“It’s Sommers.” She grasped the counter’s edge. “What do you want?” Her voice trembled.

He saw a flicker of fear in her blue eyes. “You have something of mine.”

“What are you talking about?”

He smiled. She knows. The tension in her voice and the whiteness of her knuckles showed her awareness of the reason for his presence. “A boy. Around nine years old. Blond hair. Green eyes.” He slapped the pair of photos on the counter. “Our son. Yours truly at that age. They could be twins.”

“Mark, go away.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“How did you find us?”

Though her face had blanched she didn’t back down. “A colleague and his wife stayed here. He liked the inn, the food and the views. He took pictures. One happened to be of you and the other of my son.”

“What do you plan?”

The tears forming in her eyes almost made him walk away. He couldn’t. He had a son. “For starters to get acquainted. I’m not sure what else.” He opened his wallet and slid a credit card toward her. “I’ll want a room. Not sure how long I’ll stay. Start with a week. I’ll get my bags.” He turned to leave and nearly collided with the young women he’d seen outside. He arched a brow. “Ladies, your curiosity could find you in trouble.”

Wednesday's Writer's Tip - Writing ABC - K is for Kisses

 When you see K is for Kisses, automatically, one thinks of romance. But there are other kinds of kisses. I'll talk about them later.

Kisses in romance come in many guises. There is the sweet kiss and there is the sensual kiss. Each one needs to be examined to the fullest. There can also be angry kisses, ones occurring in the midst of a fight. All these kisses bring reactions from the giver and the receiver. The writer must look at the emotions behind the particular kiss.

Let's look at some other kind of kisses. There are the ones where a parent kisses a child. This can be different depending on the age of the child and the sex of the parent. Women tend to kiss their children more often than men. But these kisses can have meanings.

Other kisses and one I always think of is the one where an enemy kisses someone marking them for death. How about those air kisses. Maybe we've all had them. There seems to be something false about air kisses.

So when you're writing a story a kiss can have different meanings and can be used in different ways. What do you think about kisses?

Tuesday's Inspiration - Reading a Great Book #MFRWauthor #Reading

Not sure if reading good books inspires other writers but they sure do inspire me. Not that I think I can write a book as good as the ones I've recently been reading. They mostly fit in the fantasy world, though some could be crossovers. Andre Norton's Witch World stories always inspire me. Though I write some fantasy, mine is quite different from hers but finishing one of her books makes me want to make what I'm working on better. Right now that's contemporary romance. Marion Zimmer Bradley is another author I've been reading  Her Darkover books can be a cross between fantasy and science fiction. Now I do not write anything like them but reading these books has inspired me.

How do they inspire me. One is in world building since all books of fiction must have worldbuilding. They inspire me to pay attention to the world I'm writing about. They also inspire me to hone my plots. For me the plot is vital to a good story.

What books have you read that inspire you? Let me know and I might want to give them a try. They can be in any genre. Good writing should always inspire.

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

Meander 1 - Poem
- Love

It gently blew into my life, the wind
And brought a gentle, quiet kind of live.
It softly nurtured peace into my soul,
The springtime zephyr of first love.
Then with greater speed, the heated wind
Ripped through my life and tempting me.
My love became a passionate pinnacle
With summer's lushness comes the lust of love.
The breeze grew chill and nipped my heart with frost.
Brought fruit the seeds in summer sewn.
My love was painted brightly colored hues.
And autumn showed that love can still englow.
But icy winds are entering my life
Can love endure the death wind of winter?

Meander 2 - The Nutcracker - Once again this year I saw the nutcracker, This year three of my grandchildren had roles. My grandson played Felix, Clara's brother, the child who damages the nutcracker. He was great and the glee on his face was really bratty. Youngest grandchild was one of the Chinese children in the segment with the many different dances. The oldest of this group was a snowflake. This child is gracefulness in motion. So once again I enjoyed the performance. May next year bring new pleasure.

Meander 3. Still working on the Cancer Capricorn Connection and am still finding new bits to explore. Also type-revising Past Betrayals - Past Loves. This is moving along but slowly. Almost 55000 words and there are still several past lives to explore. Am also putting Seducing the Innkeeper and Seducing the Doctor into duet form. Nothing seems to be going rapidly but this is going.

Sunday's Book - Seducing the Innkeeper #MFRWauthor #Contemporary #Romance

A chance photograph sends Mark Blakefield to Vermont to find something he lost and didn't know about. He has a son. He also has a way to find the woman he fell in love during his last year of college. Her disappearance when he went to pick her up for dinner puzzles him. Though he searched for Christa Parsons for months and never found her. The photograph taken by one of his writers for Good Travelin' shows an inn in Vermont. He rushes off to solve the mystery and claim his son.

Christa Sommers runs the family inn left to her by her mother. Besides making the inn successful, she is raising her nine year old son, Davy. She has to deal with her younger, selfish half-sisters and she has reached the end point of her patience with them. 

When Mark arrives she is stunned. Now she has to explain who she never told him about Davy. Part of the reason was her attempts to find him were foiled by a secretary and the other was being swamped by work. One sight and she fears falling in love with him or losing custody of her son.

Can Mark figure why he was looking for someone with the wrong name? Can he persuade Christa he has loved her for all those years and convince her to share her life and her son with him?