ETERNAL MIXTURE BLOG TOUR

Thanks for stopping by and participating in the Eternal Mixture Tour!

The author, Shevaun Delucia, is sharing an excerpt of her exciting new novel.

Young Adult Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 11/1/2013

   

If you had the chance to start your life over, would you take it? If you were told you would live for eternity, would you embrace it? If a stranger told you he was your soul mate, would you believe it?

Raina Richmond has played it safe her entire life. She has never broken the rules. That is, until Brent Alexander walked straight into her life, causing havoc. Turning her world upside down.

Brent is the new kid in town. He is every girl’s fantasy: adorable, charming, chiseled, and the typical boy Raina usually steers clear of. But there is just something about him she can’t seem to resist. Safe is no longer an option for her. For him, she breaks all the rules.

What she doesn’t realize is that he holds the key to her past, present, and future. Once he reveals the reasons behind their irrevocable connection, she will unlock the answers to all of her questions, and her life as she knows it will never be the same again.

EXCERPT

He puts the picture down and turns to look at me, face stern and serious, eyes full of hunger. I swallow, chest heaving, unable to break his gaze. “Why do you look at me like this?” I whisper, eyes still locked on his.

            “I just feel this amazing, erotic connection to you. I’ve never felt it before. I’ve met a million women throughout my years, and none of them have come close to touching me the way you do.”

            “Brent…” My voice drifts off as he slowly comes closer. His face is only inches from mine and our breathing is now in sync. Just as our lips are about to touch, my bedroom door slams open.

            “Hey, Rain—” Bailey turns towards the hall and then comes back in the room, obviously flabbergasted with what she almost just witnessed. “Whoa!”

            “Shit!” I say, jumping up from my bed and rushing over to close my door.

            “So you two, what is going on?” Bailey’s eyes glare between Brent and I, mouth grinning from ear to ear. This is the moment she was hoping for—to catch us in the act. She couldn’t stand the fact that I was keeping Brent from her, and now she’s standing here gleaming with satisfaction.

            “Bailey, this is Brent. Brent, this is my friend Bailey,” I introduce them, taking a seat back on my bed, leaning my head against my headboard.

            Brent already moved to the chair at my desk. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

            “And very nice to meet you, Brent,” Bailey responds, still glowing.

            Brent stands up, seeming uncomfortable, and says goodbye to both of us. As soon as we hear the front door close, Bailey immediately turns and faces me with accusing eyes.

            “What?”

            “What do you mean, ‘What?’ Raina, you’re my best friend, and you couldn’t even tell me?” Bailey asks angrily as she gets off my bed and paces across my floor.

            “Bailey, there’s nothing to tell!” I screech quietly.

            I grab my nightclothes out of my dresser drawers and rip off my pants and shirt, strewing them on my floor.

            “Bullshit, Raina! Were you not just here a minute ago when I walked in on you two?” Bailey shrieks in a whisper, throwing her hands in the air.

            “Fine. Yes, you walked in on us almost kissing. But that’s it! We are just friends. You probably just saved me from making a huge mistake,” I admit. “By tomorrow, he’ll probably realize it too.”

            Bailey takes a seat next to me on my bed. “Raina, why can’t you see how beautiful you are? And I don’t just mean physically. You’re a beautiful person inside and out. I wish you could just see what the rest of us see. It’s obvious Brent sees it too.”

Shevaun DeLucia

Shevaun DeLucia lives in upstate New York with her husband, four children, and two dogs. As a stay-at-home mom while her children were young, she fell in love with reading. She indulged in the small moments that took her away from the reality of her loud, overly rambunctious household, bringing her into a world of fantasy. When reading wasn’t enough to satisfy her, she turned to writing, determined to create the perfect ending of her own.

Website: http://shevaundelucia.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Shevaun-Delucia/563843076961083

Twitter: @shevaundelucia1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7375844.Shevaun_Delucia

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Eternal-Mixture-Series-Volume/dp/0615828035/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1408147727&sr=8-1&keywords=eternal+mixture

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eternal-mixture-shevaun-delucia/1117194877?ean=9780615828039

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/eternal-mixture/id839709955?mt=11

Blog Tour: Origin by Emailia I Rutigliano

Contemporary / Women's Fiction

Date Published:February 14, 2014

Alexandra Kamin is everywoman. At 42, she has a loving family, terrific children, a great career with a superlative income, a gorgeous face with a terrific figure, and a loving boyfriend. Most impressive is that she is in complete control of every ambit of her life.

Where do you go when you are at the top?

ORIGIN takes you back to the beginning… the beginning of Alexandra’s life in America, the beginning of the truest of love affairs, and the beginning of an entrepreneurial life. Through a series of flashbacks and conversations, Alexandra explains every nuance that made this beautiful family a dynasty that you want to root for.


Schooling, work, child rearing, and family affairs are all under Alexandra’s Order are all accounted for as the years go by.  GNO, love affairs and the truest of loyalties are best second time around.


Read an excerpt:

“NIIIIICCCCEEEE!”  Alexandra bellowed stepping into the “apartment.”  This was really something.

“You’re impressed?”  The svelte blonde laughed, allowing Alexandra to walk through and take it all in.

“Had I known it would be like this, I would have admitted myself into a psychiatric facility a long time ago!”  Alex was making conversation.  Her mind was too busy assessing the place.

She was standing in a two-story duplex.  It was a “New” building, on the West side of New York City overlooking the Hudson River.  The building was entirely made of glass.  Inside the apartment, everything was appointed in tones and textures of white.  

“It’s not too late you know.”  The blonde answered, using exactly the same tone.  “I have friends who run sanatoria and “well-centers” in Connecticut …  and in California, by the surf.  There’s one in Los Cabos too.  They are all luxurious.  Plenty of fancy things and gardens and pool-sides.  I could make arrangements.”

“I’m soooo in!”  Alexandra admitted.  “Where do I sign up, Doc!?  Do I lie on this couch?”   She asked, pointing toward a white, tufted, leather couch.  Alex was trying to analyze how someone was brilliant enough to design it.  It was definitely modern, but  it still had enough “old world” comfort that you could just lounge on it to read or watch TV.  And this leather... it was just... soft, and supple and inviting.  “Wait did we get a diagnosis on me already?”

“Well sure, didn’t your friends already decide that you are depressed and need to be cured?  Why else would you be seeing a psychiatrist?”  The blonde asked, laughing.  She came into the sitting area, and sat down in one of the white lounge chairs. 

“Right.”  Alex agreed.  She sat in the chair opposite her, although they were both facing the outside.  The Hudson River was playing with the sunlight and the water was bouncing the rays in such a way that it looked like it was generating the sparkles.  “So, uhm... how do we do this?”

“Cure you?”  The blonde was laughing, and Alex smirked at her, rolling her eyes. 

“Relax.  This is for you Alexandra. There is no pattern.  Want some water or iced tea or something?”

“Water would be great.”  Alexandra said, though her mind was more into photographing this room. 

The details were extraordinary.  The room was “albino”.  That seemed to be its strength.  Someone specifically made it -- not devoid of color, really -- but purposefully white. It was rich in its whiteness.  The walls, and there were many, although, technically, the whole place was “open”, were of different materials.  Some walls were Venetian or marbleized stucco.  Some were pure Carrera marble, with just the veining showing through.  Some were sueded, and some had mother-of-pearl wall coverings.  But everything was white.  Not cream... but white.  And nothing was in contrast with anything.  The hard and soft surfaces all melded. 

The ceiling-to-floor windows had no treatments. Large, ornate “boxes” that served as moldings (with mother-of-pearl textures) obviously held shades that could be let down by means of a remote control.  There was one, enormous, Chihuly chandelier.  It was white, too. 

“Do all psychiatrists’ offices look like this?”  Alexandra joked, sort of.

“No, actually.  I’m trying a new experiment with you.”  The good doctor said.

About the Author:

Emilia I. Rutigliano     

Emilia I. Rutigliano is an attorney who writes about people that she finds interesting.  Although her books are fiction, she weaves in a lot of the events of her own life, practice and travels.  She lives in New York City with her husband and three precocious teenagers (who occasionally acknowledge her existence when the internet is malfunctioning). 

ALEXANDRA’S ORDER is Emilia’s second book series, and is geared toward readers who enjoy a full story about multi-dimensional characters.  Because ORDER takes place in many locations with many different cultures, Emilia doesn’t write it unless she visits each location and meets the people who speak, think and act the same way as the characters in the book.  It’s a tough life, but she perseveres…

Connect with the author:

Website: www.alexandrasorder.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/alexandrasorderseries

BUY LINKS

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00IBQ5FV4

Self Published Sunday Welcomes K.C. Stewart

Busy - That's probably the best word to describe K.C. Stewart. She is the author of The Hailey Holloway Series and I'm pleased to introduce her to you.

K.C. Stewart 

I thought writing a book would be the hard part. Oh was I ever wrong. The hard part is what comes after the words have been put on the page, and the edits have been made, and the betas have read, and the editor has said it's crap. The hard part is when you’re holding a beautiful bundle of hard work and you have to package it with the right cover, format the hundreds of pages you just read over and over during the edits, and actually tell people that you wrote a book.

Out of everything the last part was hardest for me. Writing was my dirty little secret. Was being the operative word there. It was hard for me to talk about it with anyone other than my editor. But as time went on she told me I had to come out of the writer's closet and great the world. I did so, reluctantly. I've since spread out my arms and yelled from the top of the social media mountain that I am an author. 

Now that we have gotten that out of the way let me tell you a little about myself. I’ve lived in the same small Pennsylvania town all my life. I did take a shot at city living during college, but Philadelphia and I never really got along in the long run. I’m more of a rural girl than an urban one. I went to school for photography, ignoring all of those “job prospects are low” and “maybe you want to have a backup just in case…” from teachers and guidance counselors in high school. To be fair, I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do back then. However, if my 18 year old self could see me now I’m sure she’d call me a nerd and question my sanity. (You read? Pffft. Freak.)

The best part about being a photographer is it introduced me to the world of books. In the winter, the studio is all but dead. It was suggested I bring a book to read. I ended up reading through them faster than I could buy them. It was a life changer. Then I got my first nook. Mind. Blown. Who knew I could read so fast? Reading became my escape from the world. I ditched my cable and invested in a big fuzzy blanket and a cat…or three.

I didn’t start writing until I was invited into the super secret world of Facebook Role Play. Ok, so it’s not so super secret if you know where to find it. But I had no idea that part of Facebook existed. I was positive that I couldn’t string along a sentence, let alone a scene, and I was right. My first few months of RP were shameful. I would not wish my early writing upon my nemesis. But like most things, the more I wrote the better I got. (You were right piano teacher whose name I don’t remember. Practice does make perfect.) Soon writing as an already developed character wasn’t enough. So I made my own. Then writing scenes just wasn’t doing it for me anymore. So I wrote longer, more in-depth scenes, which turned into chapters and into a book.

Now I’m going to be honest with all of you. I never thought I’d finish it. I started it and it kinda just sat there for a few months. In that time I decided that my life needed a change. You know when they say it’s not too late to go back to school. Well, they are right. I was accepted into Clarion University’s online Library Science program. Apparently working full-time and being a full-time student wasn’t enough for me. So I opened back up that word document and began to seriously write my manuscript.

And it flowed.

And it was beautiful.

Now I’m writing a series while taking classes and working. Somehow it all fits together in a complicated puzzle, even if some of those pieces are held together with gum and duct tape.

Blurb

Copywriter by day, nerd by night, Hailey Holloway is living the post college dream. Her life may not be flashy and exciting but it’s enough for her. After a late night at work, Hailey stumbles upon two dragons brawling in the middle of Philadelphia. In an act of kindness and lapse of sanity, she comforts the dragon who was left behind to die. In doing so she inadvertently invited the soul of Dacea into herself for safe keeping. Hailey just wants to live her life as simply and quietly as possible but with the voice of a disembodied dragon in her head, she has little hope of achieving her goal.

Dacea will do anything to be free of Hailey, a human who is moments from checking herself into a psychiatric ward. He is grateful to be alive, but at what cost to his sanity? The dragon world is in upheaval. Green is at war with Red, and he is of no use to anyone while stuck with Hailey.

The solution to their problem is not without its risks. But just how far will Hailey go to be free of the dragon? 

Spark Excerpt  

Hailey sat up in her bed and gasped for air. With its blaring alarm, her bedside clock announced that it was time to wake up. She hit the off button and because she couldn’t shake the dream she had been having, Hailey held out her arms and checked for any red marks, but she found only her porcelain skin. “Ugh.” She groaned as she rested her head in her palm. It had just been a horrible dream; one she had been having on a nightly basis. There was no fire, no smoke, and no dragons. “That’s the last time I eat Mexican before bed.”

“Not this again.” A deep voice grumbled in her head.

Hailey squeezed her eyes shut. “I will not talk to the voice in my head. It is not real.” She repeated her recently acquired mantra, punctuating each word.

“Every morning it is the same thing. Hailey, you need to get over this already.” He sounded frustrated, not that she cared. The voice had been with her ever since the unfortunate event in the nearby park three weeks prior. “The sooner you accept what has happened, the sooner we can figure out how to fix it.”

“LA LA LA LA LA.” Hands covered her ears as she crawled out of bed. “I can’t hear you.”

He sighed in her head. “Why don’t you believe what is right in front of you?”

Because what was right in front of her was a crazy person who had voices in her head, she answered mentally. Hailey turned on the shower, set in her ways of ignoring him. She dropped her shirt on the floor but quickly covered her breasts with her arms.

“Crap. Close your eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, close your eyes. I need to shower.”

“You are infuriating.” He bit out.

“Nonsense, I am delightful. You on the other hand have no manners. I need to shower and don’t want you to watch.” She shifted uncomfortably, unsure where she should look when she spoke to him.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. In fact a little peek is the least you can do for the headaches you’ve caused me.”

“Headaches I’ve caused you? What about me Mister! Do you think I want to hear your critique of absolutely everything I do, have done, or will do in the future? Just close your eyes and leave me be.”

A moment of silence passed before he grunted out “fine.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes.”

“How do I know that? You could just say they are but really be watching me shower like a creeper.” Hailey shuffled her weight back and forth as the cool air chilled her bottom.

“I guess you will just have to trust me.” He said amused. 

                              Connect with the author:

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/kcstewartauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KCStewartAuthor

Website: http://kcstewartauthor.wix.com/kcstewart

Blog: http://kcstewartauthor.blogspot.com/

                                Purchase Links:

                                 Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/OIG7eN

                                             Amazon: http://amzn.to/1kNv1jq
                                           Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1gP4MVS
                                               OmniLit: http://bit.ly/1jw5ufr

Self Published Sunday Welcomes Jan Harman

Today's guest is Jan Harman - the author of Brush of Shade.  

Background:

My family didn’t have much fun money when I was growing up. It was a rare treat for us when we got a burger from a fast food place. Going to the movies was even rarer. But what my sister and I did get was book money, so we could buy a book off our school’s equivalent of the Scholastic Book list.  I poured over those pages with my red pencil in hand rating each book with stars. When the books would finally come in, I’d lose myself in those worlds. To this day, one of my favorite things to do is to stand in the aisle of a book store and contemplate my selection. Throughout my childhood, characters and stories always stirred around inside my mind often distracting me from my tasks. My parents were practical people, so when it came time to pick a college major, it had to be something that would get me a real job not something artsy. Regrettably, my characters took a backseat while I pursued a career as a computer programmer. But all that changed when health concerns for my two daughters transformed me into a homeschooling mom. When my three kids were tackling a creative writing assignment, I would task myself with producing an example. Over time, bits and pieces of a story formed. Characters spoke to me at odd hours of the day, but life was hectic and the characters had to wait.  Then one day I broke my arm and had to have surgery. Knowing I was bored out of my mind, my daughters, now in high school and college, pleaded with me to work on my story because they were still waiting to see how it all played out. The result of this labor of love is my debut novel Brush of Shade.

My writing process:

I’m supposed to have a process? A few months ago that very concept would’ve made my fingers freeze over the keyboard. You see, based on how things flowed or didn’t for several years with my first book, I never developed any set habits. I’m embarrassed to admit that when it came time to start the second book in the series, I slammed straight into an imaginary brick wall. With Brush of Shade, I had a compilation of descriptions, events, and characters plus all the internal interactions that had been batting about inside my skull all those years. I was a published author now. I was supposed to know what to do next. I read countless author postings on Goodreads looking for direction. I picked up books on the writing process. I got so bogged down that for the first time that I could remember the characters stopped speaking. When my kids, now all at college, called home, they kept asking how the second book was going. I had to change the subject. Was this what writer’s block felt like? Something had to change. Somebody had to have the answers. So I turned to my characters and asked them pointed questions. Wow, XYZ event in the book sure was intense. How are you doing now? Do you feel stronger, older, wary, afraid, happy, depressed, angry, or vindictive? Are you suffering from post-traumatic stress or do you think you’re invincible? While we’re on the subject, tell me what you’ve given up and do you want it back? What are you willing to do or willing to sacrifice to save those you love? Once I realized that my characters were no longer the same, plot highlights began to take shape. With a rough outline in mind, I started the story, allowing the characters and their reactions to events to shape all the parts in between. My process I’ve discovered is messy. I allow every idea its moment on the page, knowing that what I’m creating is a crude draft. Each day I reread what I wrote the day before, allowing my mind to become energized by the drama on the pages. While I might pause to edit the glaring errors, usually I leave behind a trail of track changes filled with my gut reactions. After more brutal passes through the story than I want to think about at this point, I hope I will eventually create a book worthy of being a reader’s temporary home.

Brush of Shade description:

Olivia Pepperdine has a love hate relationship with quiet. Silence reminds her of the accident that killed her parents and left her trapped in a mangled car. On that isolated stretch of road with the weight of all that silence pressing against her mind and body, something sinister had kept them company. Since that night a voice haunts her nightmares and snakes out to torment when she is alone and vulnerable.

Still recovering physically and mentally from the loss of her parents, high school senior Olivia finds herself living with an aunt she hardly knows in a small town in the middle of no-where. Spring Valley, Colorado should hold the connection to her father she longs for, but that longed for connection turns out to be more than Olivia ever imaged. Behind closed doors things in this sleepy community are far from ordinary. One by one fundamental truths are stripped aside as everything she ever believed about her family is called into question.

Determined to embrace normal even if it means ignoring the flashes of movement she’d been seeing out of the corner of her eye since her discharge from the hospital, Olivia is unnerved by the local residents. From the moment Olivia and her Aunt Claire arrive at the local gas station where strangers gawk and pay for her purchases to the spine-tingling electric shock that lifts her off the pew at her parent’s wake, the voice, half-truths, and an impossible rescue draw Olivia deeper into a web of secrets and the realization that the accident that had killed her parents might have been a cover for murder.

An after school job at Hattie’s quirky tourist shop brings Olivia into the life and arms of Shade, a guy who could put Prince Charming and the sexiest man in Hollywood to shame. Mesmerizing eyes unlike anything she has ever seen reveal the depth of his emotions that he can’t keep hidden while his irresistible drawl whispers to her wounded soul. Noble to his core, Shade is determined to treat her like a kid sister despite the connection between them that fills the empty places in her heart.

But Shade, like the residents of the valley, hides a secret, one that compels Olivia to take on an inherited responsibility that upends the future she’d envisioned. Secrets, hidden chambers, and an ancestor’s alliance propel Olivia into a world where voices are both weapons and instruments of comfort. As the line between sanity and fantasy blurs, Olivia must dig deep to unearth the courage to redefine normal, even if belief in the paranormal may be more than her troubled mind can handle. It might very well be the straw that sends her back into her cushioned world of prescription drugs and psychiatrist visits. To keep Olivia safe, Shade pledges his life to her side in a move that could rob her of her will and turn the elders against him.

Undercurrents within the quaint western town surge to the surface as those that oppose centuries of traditions begin to plot their rise to power. When the threat risks the lives of those close to her, Olivia must learn the identity of the people out to destroy the valley or face losing what could become the permanent place to call home that her heart has been searching for.

Excerpt:

“No, Olivia isn’t ready,” Aunt Claire argued.

“That might not be a concern if we don’t get her help soon. Sorry, Claire, I’ve got to follow her orders. I’ve got to save the legacy.”

“Don’t use that ploy to get your way. Again no oaths have been given.”

“What is he . . .” I couldn’t finish. Fire engulfed me, scorching my insides. I doubled over writhing in my aunt’s arms as sweat lathered my body

.

“Go,” Aunt Claire ordered, pulling a blanket tight around my shoulders.

I lolled against her side, not fully comprehending the strange scene unfolding outside the window. Shade had tossed his heavy coat into the back seat and was standing outside, shaking hard in the middle of a blizzard wearing an unzipped, stadium jacket. Snow streaked across the windshield, piling up along the edges and making it difficult for me to see outside. The next gust swallowed his body.

I strained against Aunt Claire’s hold. “Make him come back inside. He’ll freeze to death.”

“Olivia, listen to me. He’s alright. Trust us. Trust Shade. Everything will be fine.”

When had I finally crossed the line over to the side of crazy? My scream couldn’t get past my narrowed throat. I shrank back, shoving frantically at my aunt’s restraining arm as translucent hands, with no real fixed shape, reached out for me. A whimpered scream became a faint sob as washed-out blue eyes swam into focus.

“Claire, don’t attempt to drive. It’s too dangerous. Shad and my father are coming. They’ll get you home. Come with me, Olivia.”

“Come?” I squeaked, too terrified to mount a struggle as hot hands, that blended with the gray of the seat cushion and then changed over to the navy blue of my sweater, pulled me against a ghostlike chest.

“Trust me, Livi. I will protect you.”

Purchase link:  http://amzn.to/13Zzx5y

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/TheWhisperersChronicles

Novel Notions Welcomes Tina J Cole to Self Published Sunday!

Tina J Cole is a writer of short stories, poems, newsletters, tracts, and the indie author of the inspirational novel ‘Keeper of the Stars’. Her new blog entitled Quest To Write was created to encourage, teach and motivate young writers of all ages and aptitudes. She is currently working on two more books, one a young adult novel.
                                        

Tina: I grew up in the sixties when racial discrimination was a spotlighted issue in a turbulent time of national change. Martin Luther King and his supporters proclaimed their mission for racial equality from the airwaves of television. Probably as a result of being raised in a small southern community that based its values on the Bible, I never saw gross injustices committed against another race. When I started the first grade in 1966, our school was already integrated. In fact, I had an African American teacher who I believe all the children loved. Before we started class each day she would play the piano and sometimes sing. I remember two songs that she played regularly-‘Battle Hymn of The Republic’ and ‘Jimmie Crack Corn’ (or ‘The Blue Tail Fly’).

Listening to the history of racial segregation made me sensitive to the great harm done by prejudices of varying kinds. As I’ve progressed through life I have discovered the many ways we can pre-judge people just because they may act or look a little different than us. The following excerpt from my book ‘Keeper of the Stars’ is a expression of that realization.

 On the ride home, a jumble of voices blurted out their insights and opinions of the movie they'd watched for almost two hours. "You know the part where the reporter broke the story about the racist congressman that got the black singer pregnant?" Sheena asked.

"Yes I know. I loved the scene where..." Arizona interjected but was interrupted as Sheena spoke again.

"That reporter reminded me of my Uncle Buster. He's got the biggest nose and neck of anyone I've ever seen. And he's the most racist person I know."

"I don't see how they could live through all the prejudice that happened back then," Julie said with bewildered eyes. Sometimes it makes me ashamed to have white skin."

From the back seat, Arizona told her, "You're not exactly white skinned. You're darker than me or Sheena and we're not pale. Besides, we didn't live in slavery times or the sixties or earlier, so we can't be blamed for people's prejudices back then---or for them now as far as that goes. Anyway the movie was called "Unsung Heroes" because it was about people of all races who fought against racial injustice. And some of them had to pay a big price for it too."

 She continued thoughtfully, "Just look at Grandma, Reba and Joseph. They've been friends for about half a century and they lived through the sixties."

Julie pondered a moment, and said, "I've thought about that before too. Mom told me that Mamaw had to hide their friendship from her mother and other people too. And the weird or ironic thing is that our great grandmother had Indian and Melungeon blood herself. And she knew what it was like to be treated like she was no good because of the color of her skin."

Dean spoke next, "Don't forget us Spanish speaking people, especially Mexicans like me." He paused and grinned comically at each girl. "We're accused of being lazy, drunken thieves."

"Let's see...ummm, lazy. Well your mother would probably agree. Drunken. You have hung out with Kyle some. So that's likely. Now, the one that's left---thief. Yep to that too. I'm a witness. Remember when you stole my answers during a History quiz in Mr. Cooper’s class?" Arizona finished speaking with a twinkle in her eyes.

Suddenly the car filled up with chortling, giggling, and snickering. "Good one Zoni. I'll get my revenge though."

"Speaking of revenge, I've got some things I need to discuss with you and Sheena." Then she began to explain her plan to get back at her ex-boyfriend.

Connect with Tina:

Facebook

Blog

Amazon Page

                                    

Novel Notions Welcomes author Beth Camp to Self Published Sunday!

I am so pleased that Beth Camp is our feature author.  She is not only talking about her writing process but sharing an excerpt of her novel, Standing Stones.

About Beth Camp: When I was a kid, I prowled the library to check out the thickest, heaviest books I could find. Two Years Before the Mast. The Wandering Jew. Quo Vadis. Books I could fall into and pretend I lived in the past. Places I dreamed of visiting some day. As a teen, I discovered my grandmother's 5-volume sets of Hemingway, the short stories of Poe and de Maupassant. I began writing poetry and short stories then.

Sometimes it seemed that my family moved every time the rent was due. I attended some 13 high schools on the West coast of the US and daydreamed of attending college. I balanced working full time with taking classes; it took ten years to earn my degree, with odd jobs and careers in international banking and corporate consulting along the way before I became an English teacher at a community college where I taught for 26 years. Today, I live in Spokane, in eastern Washington, with my husband, and close to our daughter, her husband, and granddaughter. Restless feet and writing projects keep us traveling. These days, we’re planning a three-month stay in Spain. The writing travels with me!

What is your writing process? 

I’m often asked when I find time to write. Each morning, before coffee, I wake with half-remembered scenes or conversations that my characters are somehow in the middle of. I sit at the computer and reconstruct what they are telling me, images of who they are and what they’re involved in coming to life before me. An outline emerges out of that combination of history, setting, and then, scene upon scene, their lives unfold.

As a writer, I’m rather a sprinter, more intuitive than methodical, going ahead into story with multiple revisions ahead. I want to discover how it felt to live in a certain time, and how others have conquered their deepest fears to achieve their goals.

My books begin with a flash of an idea, a portrait spotted in a museum, a slice of history that compels me to look more closely. For example, I visited the National Museum of the Middle Ages in Paris to see the unicorn tapestries and later read Tracy Chevalier’s wonderful story, The Lady and the Unicorn. The real history of these tapestries is shrouded in mystery, but I found a clue in Scotland that suggests a very different story. Fiction allows us to play with alternate realities. I hope my readers come away with greater compassion for how others struggle to create order, harmony, and beauty in their lives. 

Why did you decide to jump into self-publishing? 

As many writers discover, after “the book” is done, the round of submissions begins. We are lucky to get an acknowledgement these days whether we are subbing to a potential agent or to a publishing company. Routinely websites suggest a turn-around time of 3-6 months, even for ‘exclusive’ submissions.

Standing Stones took second place in historical fiction at the Pacific Northwest Writers Association literary contest in 2010, but I spent the next several years subbing to potential agents and then independent publishers before deciding that I really wanted readers to read my stories.

I first self-published The Mermaid Quilt & Other Tales, a collection of short stories and poems about mermaids, to learn how to format for  Kindle and CreateSpace.

With Standing Stones, I discovered fiverr, a wonderful site that highlights freelancers. Angela Zambrano of pro_ebookcovers created the cover for Standing Stones; I think her work is remarkable.

What is Standing Stones about? 

Standing Stones is the first of two books that begins when Lord Gordon comes to Foulksay Island. His uncle has died, and inspired by the sweep of the Industrial Revolution, Lord Gordon wishes to make his new estate profitable by replacing tenant farmers who have lived on the island for generations with sheep.

Mac McDonnell, a fisherman and head of household for his sister and three brothers, leads protests against Lord Gordon’s changes, but Moira, his sister, falls in love with Dylan, one of the men Lord Gordon has brought to the island. The people of Foulksay Island have gathered to celebrate the end of summer. Dougal, the second oldest brother, is playing the fiddle. Here is the moment that Moira and Dylan meet:

Moira watched Dougal’s fingers fly over the fiddle. She felt proud of him, and her feet tapped the rhythm of the drum. The dancing grew frantic as more people pushed into the hall. Moira closed her eyes and gave herself over to the dance, the music keening in her head and heart. A strong arm held her at her waist and twirled her around.

Moira’s eyes flew open. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Dylan, from across the water, ready to dance your feet off and steal your heart.” He grinned and bowed.

Dylan was much shorter than her brothers, wiry, and dark when they were fair, his hair curly with sweat. His eyes, nearly black, sparkled. He smiled again, and Moira felt her breath catch. “Dance with me?”

She gave him her hand, and they danced one set after another, until they were both breathless.

“Any others like you at home?” he asked.

“No, not a one. Just me,” Moira shouted over the music, turning away and then back as he twirled her to the music.

“Ah, ‘tis fortunate I am, for then I’ll only have me heart broken once.”

Moira laughed. His hand caught and held hers, and his dark eyes dared her to let go.

“Wait until you meet my brothers.”

“And how many brothers do you have, all tiny men, as small as trolls, no doubt?”

“Four brothers,” she replied on the next round. “Mac, Dougal, Colin and Jamie. All of them are giants compared to you.” She glanced over at Dougal and waved. “There’s Dougal.”

“He looks ferocious,” said Dylan. “Does he have an evil temper?”

“None of my brothers would harm a soul.”

“Then why is he glaring at me like that?”

To Purchase:

Standing Stones is available on

 Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I3RYFW6 and 

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/401903

The Mermaid Quilt & Other Tales is also available on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0090VHKBC

Links:

Beth’s Writing Blog: http://bethandwriting.blogspot.com

Beth’s Travel Blog: http://bethcamp.blogspot.com

On Twitter: @bluebethley and Facebook.  Beth Camp's Author page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Page-for-Beth-Camp/536097169822653 

Drop a note to Beth at bluebethley@yahoo.com to find out about upcoming releases with her occasional newsletter.  She’d love to hear from you!