Author: Dee S.

New Release! Santa, Baby! A naughty holiday fantasy by Lisabet Sarai

Santa Baby by Lisabet Sarai

This Christmas, Santa discovers it’s nice to be naughty.

Blurb:

Recent university grad Matt Glaser may not have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday cash, it’s a case of ‘ho ho ho, let’s start the show’—he loves his red suit like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something’s not kosher about this particular Vixen. She’s not one to be denied, though. When the interview takes a carnal turn, he finds he’s unexpectedly eager to satisfy the demanding older woman.

Wearing the provocative costume supplied by his employer, Matt arrives at the Danforths’ swanky apartment to discover he’s been cast as the emcee for Eleanor’s intimate gathering. His duties include managing a pair of scantily-clad blond elves, distributing decadent treats to guests who’ve been good, and meting out punishments to the naughty. Meanwhile, the mistress of the house has a Christmas gift especially for him—one made of silicon and leather straps, which requires plenty of lube. Ho ho ho, Matt! It’s going to be a very merry Christmas indeed.

Buy Links:

Kinky Literature
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashwords
Goodreads

Femdom Holiday Erotica
12,000 words, 51 pages
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9780463715581
ASIN: B082ZTHVKJ

Excerpt:

For an excerpt online

Muffled in the overcoat I’d borrowed from my roommate Brian, I faced the hardwood and brass double doors to the Danforth’s fortieth floor apartment. The doorbell was easy to locate; I just wasn’t sure I had the guts to ring it.

The Santa costume that my employer had provided was more appropriate for a go-go boy than Father Christmas. The droopy conical hat was traditional, with its fuzzy white trim and pom-pom, and the knee-high black patent leather boots, too, but St. Nicolas wouldn’t have been caught dead in these shiny red spandex hot pants. They clung to my bum like a second skin. It was a good thing the weather was warm for December, or I would have frozen my balls off. The scarlet shirt, fashioned of some sort of stretchy velvet, had long sleeves with white fur cuffs. However, the front made a plunging vee that bared most of my chest.

I was grateful for the soft, snowy-white fake beard. It hid my blushes. I felt ridiculous and incredibly exposed. Like most authors, I tended to live in my head, my vivid imagination compensating for my mundane real-world existence. In contrast, this costume emphasized the physical. My face was hidden; my mind wasn’t important. I had no illusions about the fact that Mrs. Danforth had hired me primarily for my body.

I could still back out. Turn around, step back into the chrome and steel elevator and whoosh down to the ground floor. Spend Christmas Eve eating take-out and working on my novel.

Seriously, though, could I afford to throw away two thousand bucks? Meanwhile, the experience, however weird, might in the future serve as grist to the writer’s mill.

Before I could talk myself out it, I gave the button a firm press.

Almost immediately, Mrs. Danforth opened the door. “Good evening, Matt. You’re right on time. I do appreciate punctuality.”

My eyes grew wide and my cock started to harden as I took her in. She’d been attractive in her form-fitting suit and silky blouse, but now she was stunning. Her sleeveless, evergreen-colored cocktail dress was fashioned from some light, shimmery fabric that clung to her voluptuous breasts and hips. The short skirt showed off her smooth thighs and muscled calves, their shapeliness enhanced by her sparkling red stilettos. Her pale hair gleamed in the recessed lights of the entry way. Artfully-applied make up accentuated her patrician features. Her plump, crimson lips were moist and inviting.

“Toss your coat onto the chair,” she ordered. “Let’s see the costume.”

Like an automaton, I shrugged off the heavy wool garment.

She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, you look spectacular! Sexy and naughty, just the way I imagined.”

About Lisabet:

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here.

It’s that time of year… #MFRWauthor

Christmas decorationsWouldn’t you know it? I messed up on week 15 of the 52 week blog challenge, and have been off count since March or so! I think I’ve been on topic, but really, at this point who knows? 😉

So I will use this space to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah. Both holidays have to do with light and joy. I’ll add peace to wish.

Next week I’ll finish with post 52. Where has the year gone??

Best wishes–
Dee

Charity Sunday: A Tribute to Volunteers

Charity SundayHow Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to a charity found in this article. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Note: I posted this first on Friday, December 20 because I couldn’t wait to say something. Please consider this an early Charity Sunday!

Fire in AustraliaVolunteer: a person who freely offers to take part in an enterprise or undertake a task.

Whether they volunteer with world-wide organisations such as Doctors Without Borders, environmental conservation programs, caring for refuges, wildlife conservation, local welfare groups and mums preparing lunches at the school canteen, we cannot put a price on their contributions to our communities. We thank our military, and now I’d like to thank our volunteers, also.

Never has that one word been as important as it is now in Australia.Firefighters
This week we said thank you and farewell to the New Zealand firefighters and welcomed teams from Canada and the United States. These wonderful people willingly travelled thousands of miles to join our firefighters battling massive blazes in New South Wales and Queensland. Approximately 1,618,700 hectares, or 4 million acres (give or take an acre) have been affected and more than 1,000 homes across NSW and Queensland have been destroyed. We’ll never know how many homes and lives were saved by the courageous dedicated fireys facing these massive walls of flames. In broad terms, each state’s Rural Fires Service is the volunteer arms of the Fire and Emergency Services. New South Wales Rural Fire Service is the largest volunteer fire service in the world, and right now they, and our interstate fireys are stretched to the limit by the enormity of this disaster. So, thanks again to our Kiwi mates and the Americans and Canadians for giving us their time and invaluable help.

However, these men and women couldn’t keep going without the back-up Fire Service volunteers, the Salvation Army, the Red Cross, the Country Women’s Association, St Vincent de Paul, and Lifeline, to name a few. In good times and in bad times, they are always here when we need them for financial help, food, clothing, household goods, emergency accommodation and trauma counselling. In every city and town, volunteers run Opportunity Shops (Thrift stores) selling second-hand goods for charities. One small Op Shop in Tuncurry, on the NSW coast, supports the local disabled children as well as the fire brigade, the rescue helicopter, the Royal Flying Doctor Service and other community services. This year they also donated $12,000 to Rural Aid to help drought-stricken farmers and water transport to country towns running dry. Multiply this by the countless donations and services provided by volunteers around the world and we must ask ourselves ‘where would we be without them?’

Fire rages in AustraliaVolunteers from WIRES (Wildlife Information, Rescue and Education Service) and other similar groups have been facing these fires to rescue our unique wildlife. Sadly, many of these defenceless animals have perished but a lot are now receiving treatment and care, often in volunteers’ homes. Bear the Dog, a canine volunteer, is doing his best to find and rescue burned and injured koalas.

So, to all volunteers, the words ‘thank you’ are very inadequate. Indeed, we’d be lost without you.

Before I close, I want to share this heartwarming news item from Queensland.

Wishing you all a very happy Christmas and a wonderful, safe new year. And… Please send rain!!

[Note: Jan wanted to share this post with us because her country is burning all around her. She is not asking you to contribute anything. However, should you wish to donate–whether to support the firefighters, to help groups who are helping those who have been left homeless, or to support wildlife rescue–I (Dee) ask that you please see the links in this article. And thank you! –Dee]

Jan Selbourne

Lies of Gold: SILVER medal for Best Historical Book of 2019!
The Proposition
Perilous Love
Behind the Clouds
Mystic Desire

I hope you will visit the other bloggers joining today’s Charity Sunday blog hop. You’ll find links to their posts here.

Thank you!

When gold turns back to straw #MFRWauthor

We’ve all had them. Those seemingly perfect days that turn to sh— uh, bad days. Rumpelstiltskin turned straw into gold but at times life seems to do the opposite.

SunshineSometimes it happens slowly. You get up to sunshine. Dress in your favorite blouse and skirt and slip on brand new $200-shoes. You get to work with no problems and prepare for a client meeting. Then find that your favorite blouse has a stain that you hadn’t noticed. Glancing out the window, you see what looks like clouds in the distance. Walking into the conference room your heel on your right foot catches on the carpet and twists your ankle. Out the window, was that lightning? You hobble well enough to get through your meeting. At lunch with the client, you step outside the building into a downpour, and a cab driving by splashes muddy water all over you…and your shoes, which are now soaked and covered with a light layer of street crud.

Sometimes it happens fast. Same scenario, except with just enough time to Stormarrive at the office for your meeting, you decide to stop at your favorite coffee shop for pastries and coffee to go for everyone. Oops! The person ahead of you turns too quickly and crashes into you, losing the cover on her Strawberry & Toasted Almonds Overnight Grains and dumping her Caramel Cloud Macchiato with two shots of espresso all over your skirt and…your shoes. (With apologies to Starbucks!) So now, strawberries are smeared across your boobs and “overnight grains” dangle from your belt buckle. Coffee stains everyplace the strawberries don’t. The double shot of espresso has found a place on the toes of your shoes. And there it is: the beautiful sun slipping behind fast-moving storm clouds.

In either plot line, what do you do? Call in sick and hide in bed? Or clean up as best you can and go on to work, pastries and coffee in hand and with a great story to tell? We’ve blogged about this before, how you write your own story. You can wake up deciding to meet fate head-on and make the best of things, or let fate take over. I can’t honestly say that I’ve always met the day with a smile regardless of what’s happened, but I try to. Bad things are going to happen no matter how we try to avoid them. I believe it’s better to control your own corner of the world and make it as good (happy) a place as you can. Hiding in bed won’t do that.

Protecting your corner of the worldI knew a 40+-years-old woman once who had stage 4 uterine cancer. Her life had gone from sunshine with a fine husband who loved her senselessly, a beautiful home, lots of friends, lots of joys. to storm clouds with one visit to the doctor’s office. But did she give in to despair? Not in public, she didn’t, though I’m sure she felt it inside sometimes. Instead, she always had a smile. She was actually fun to visit because she made her guests feel at ease. She accepted good wishes with grace and help when she needed it with gratitude. She is one of the most selfless women I’ve ever known, and I’ve always admired her. I don’t know if I could be as giving if I were in her place. She made her last days in her corner of the world a good place to be and she died with peace. I know it wasn’t easy for her, but her attitude was an expression of how she faced all aspects of her life.

Hoping you’re making the best of whatever life throws at you! It isn’t always easy but how much better is it than railing against the world?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
One Woman Only: The Good Man Series, Book 2 Jonah’s story! Can a simple mechanic rekindle with his high school love? She says no, but Jonah loves a challenge!

Mystic Desire
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Skills of the Warramunga: Greg Kater

We’re turning a bit away from romance this month and hosting some authors new to us, who write other fiction and some non-fiction. We think our guest bloggers are phenomenal, and believe you will, too. Comment, and let us know what you think!

Skills of the Warramunga by Greg Kater

Skills of the Warramunga

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
GK: Skills of the Warramunga is my third historical fiction novel in a series of books covering the 1940’s period, specifically World War II and the aftermath of war. This novel takes place during the first half of 1946 on the Malayan peninsula at a time of turmoil following the defeat of the Japanese. During my career in the resources industry, I spent quite a lot of time in Malaysia, as well as the other South East Asian countries, and the region is well known to me. As with my other novels, except for the really bad fellows, the fictional characters in the book are mostly based on the variety of people I worked with over the years, during my long career.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
GK:From personal experience, I am very familiar with most parts of the Malayan peninsular depicted in the novel. Research was focussed on the actual historical events leading up to the April 1946 creation of the Malayan Union by the British Military Authority. These historical events are a backdrop to all the action and drama which takes place throughout the book.

NA: What is a fun fact about writing your book?
GK: The greatest fun, to me, was remembering the weird and wonderful people I worked with around the world over a long career of 56 years and casting them as fictional characters in my books. Although they all have fictional names, some of them have been able to recognize themselves.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
GK: I have retired recently after a 56-year career in the resources industries, a career which took me to all parts of the world

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
GK: My retirement started me on the path to writing. Rambling around in my head were memories of the exotic places where I had worked as well as the people I had met and worked with. I decided it would be fun to include all those memories into works of fiction. For the first time in many years, I actually had plenty of time on my hands.

NA: What do your friends and family think about you being a writer?
GK: I think, in general, they were all quite surprised. My wife is very happy about it as she was worried that, after a very active career, on my retirement I might become a terrible nuisance with nothing to do. Writing certainly keeps me out of mischief.

All my friends tell me that they have really enjoyed my books. I hope they are not just being kind. I have won some awards, so perhaps my novels are not too bad.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
GK: Both, to a certain extent. I usually start off with a lot of research so that the succession of historical facts is correct. Then with the historical events running along in the background, my fictional characters become involved in the action. The fictional actions are not planned too far in advance but evolve as I progress further into the story.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
GK: There are, of course, many rewarding experiences including multiple maximum star reviews, accolades from many of my readers, the odd award and the joy of completing a novel and having it published.

I would say, however, the most rewarding experience has been to find out that someone like me, who has only ever written multitudes of technical reports, can actually write historical fiction that is entertaining.

NA: What do you like to do when you are not writing?
GK: I closely follow the various careers of my children and I spend quite some time talking to my grandchildren and following their exploits on the athletic fields and swimming pools as well as their successes at scholastic endeavours and jobs.

For myself, I was never in one place for long enough to become any good at golf and, due to age, I’ve given up tennis. I now play lawn bowls regularly at our local Bowls Club.

I am also a part-owner of the Egelabra Merino Stud, a major family-owned sheep and cattle enterprise in central New South Wales. I spend some time on the telephone discussing the property with brother and cousins, particularly in this time of drought when we have had to move quickly to get all our cattle and some of our sheep on agistment to other parts of Australia where rainfalls have been good.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on now?
GK: I must confess, I didn’t go to any trouble choosing it. It was on top of a pile of newly washed clothing and was the easiest shirt to grab early in the morning.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning?
GK: Since I’ve retired, I don’t have an alarm clock anymore. When I wake up, the first thought that usually comes to me is, since I have already won my OBE (Over Bloody Eighty), how lucky I and my wife are to still be so fit.

NA: Strangest place you’ve brushed your teeth?
GK: That would definitely be in Chara, near Udokan, in the Transbaikal region of Siberia. It was February, 1992 and the temperature was -54 degrees C. The only water that wasn’t frozen was ice being boiled in the kettle for tea. I had to clean my teeth with dry almost-frozen toothpaste before going to bed.

NA: What are you working on now?
GK: I am working on a new historical fiction novel which is completely different than my first four books. It takes place in the first half of the 1800’s and is based on the actual voyages by my great-great-grandparents from England to Australia and the trials and tribulations of settling in Australia at that time. There were occasional droughts and depressions which tested the settlers of that era.

I am lucky to have many of the original letters from my great-great-grandmother as well several early histories of my family. The meeting of my two great-great-grandparents was very romantic and after marriage they weathered good times and bad raising sheep, cattle and children in the bush country. Real pioneers! It is historical fiction, as I have added some conversations and events which may or may not have happened exactly the way I have written about them.

The working title of the new novel is, “Scent of a Foreign Land.” It is taking longer than I expected because it is so different for me. I have completed about 60% of it. I don’t expect to have it published before mid-2020.

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
GK: I suppose a question would be – what is my third novel about?
Greg KaterThe events take place during the first half of 1946 when former army officer, Jamie Munro, and educated half-aborigine, Jack “Jacko” O’Brien, who head the Commonwealth Investigation Service in Darwin, are called on to assist in the rescue of Colonel John Cook, a senior operative of MI6, who has been kidnapped by unknown bandits into the jungles of Malaya.

During the recent war, Jamie and Jacko had worked in intelligence operations with Colonel Cook during the desert campaign in North Africa in the Second World War, as the Afrika Corps threatened Egypt.

The pair with Jacko’s half-sister, Sarah, a full blood aborigine, originally from Tennant Creek in the Northern Territory, arrive in Kuala Lumpur in the aftermath of war to find that they not only have to contend with the impenetrable jungle of the Malay peninsula, but also with a large murderous and subversive organisation of Fascist criminals whose aim is to disrupt the 1st of April 1946 creation of the Malayan Union by the British Military Authority, foment an uprising and take over control of the country. All the inherent bushcraft skills of the Warramunga are needed to prevent catastrophic mayhem on the Malayan Peninsula.

New release! Cherry Pie and Mistletoe: Lisabet Sarai

Cherry Pie and Mistletoe
A mature holiday romance

Cherry Pie and Mistletoe by Lisabet SaraiSome Christmas traditions improve with age!

Blurb:
At ten thirty on a stormy Christmas Eve, I really didn’t expect any business, but the sign for our diner out on the highway reads “open until midnight”, and I’m a woman of my word. Good thing I didn’t close; the half-frozen long haul trucker who wandered in really needed some hot coffee, not to mention a slice of my luscious cherry pie.

Something about the grizzled, bear-like man with the chocolate-brown eyes and ready laugh spun me back to my scandalous, sensual younger days. I hadn’t wanted anyone in years, but I wanted Dave Driver. Was I brave enough to act on my desire? And would he flee, screaming, from the amorous attentions of a white-haired little old lady?

Buy links:
Kinky Literature 
Amazon US 
Amazon UK 
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble 
Kobo 
Add on Goodreads

Excerpt:
Before he could mention it, I refilled his empty mug. What was it about this guy? Ants crawled along my skin. Butterflies danced in my stomach. My nipples felt heavy and hard as polished stones and a hungry void pulsed between my thighs.

Our eyes met. Heat flickered through me. I held my breath.

“You got any cherry pie?” he asked at last. Had he wanted to request something else?

“Um—yes, yes, of course,” I gasped. Disappointment and relief warred inside me. After all, I wasn’t a girl anymore. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. “Best cherry pie in three counties, in fact.”

“And would you happen to have something to do with that, Marnie?”

“I certainly would. It’s my mother’s recipe—by the way, what’s your name?” I winced at my own boldness. “Since you know mine.”

“Dave,” he replied. “Dave Driver.”

I giggled. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. Guess I was fated to be a long-haul trucker.” Sadness tinged his smile. “Anyway, Marnie—how about that pie? It’s great talking to you, but I’ve got to be in Nebraska by Thursday morning.”

“Coming right up.” I cut him a more-than-generous slice and topped it with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. Ruby-red fruit oozed from the flaky crust. Fingers of creamy white dripped over the top and pooled on the plate. I garnished the whole thing with a sprig of fresh mint and presented it to him with a flourish.

“Very Christmas-y,” he said. “Looks delicious, too.”

“It is.” I watched him devour a big, gooey chunk.

“Wow! This is amazing!”

“Thanks.” It felt so good to be the cause of his innocent delight. “Glad you like it.”

“Why don’t you join me? Have a piece of your own?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s bad for my cholesterol.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, and you have to work. You deserve some compensation!” He held out a moist forkful of cherries and cream. “Here, take some of mine, then.”

Giving in to impulse, I leaned over the counter, opened my mouth and let him feed me. Flavors exploded on my tongue: the sweet-tart burst of the fruit, the richness of the ice cream, the buttery lightness of the crust. Dave scrutinized my face as I chewed and swallowed, savoring every moment. I couldn’t stop licking my lips. His eyes followed my every move. A blush climbed into my cheeks, even as I chided myself for being immature and overly sensitive.

“See?” he said gravely. “You should listen to me. Go get yourself some of your incredible cherry pie.”

I didn’t resist any more. I wanted the pie. I wanted him, too. Not much I could do about that second desire, but I could certainly fulfill the first. Hard as it sometimes was to believe, I was sixty four. Did I think I’d live forever?

With my pie and ice cream (a somewhat smaller piece than I’d given him), I perched on a stool inside the serving area. Facing each other across the counter, less than a foot apart, we ate in silence.

I tried without success to concentrate on the exquisite taste of the dessert in front of me, as Dave seemed to be doing. Instead, I was intensely aware of how close he was—and how paradoxically attractive. I watched his sensual mouth opening and closing around forkfuls of pie, the flick of his tongue over his lips as he gathered stray crumbs, the shift in his throat as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

He drained his coffee cup. He’d nearly finished. When he was done, he’d disappear into the winter night. He had a long way to travel before morning. His job probably depended on providing a reliable delivery schedule.

I was just a stop along the way.

About Lisabet:
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Mystery and Murder in Karluk Bones by Robin Barefield

Robin Barefield might be new to you–she is to me!–but this book will find a place on my shelf!

Karluk Bones by Robin Barefield

Karluk Bones blurb:

When two men recently discharged from the air force set out for a hunting trip on Kodiak Island in Alaska, they expect the adventure of a lifetime. Instead, they find themselves embroiled in a never-ending nightmare.
More than forty years later, biologist Jane Marcus and her friends discover human remains near Karluk Lake in the middle of the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge. Jane soon learns a bullet was responsible for shattering the skull they found. What happened? Was the gunshot wound the result of a suicide, or was it homicide? Who was this individual who died in the middle of the wilderness, and when did he die? Jane can’t stop asking questions, and she turns to Alaska State Trooper Sergeant Dan Patterson for answers.

Sergeant Patterson doesn’t have time for Jane and her questions because he is investigating the recent murder of a floatplane pilot on the island. Was the pilot shot by one of his passengers, by another pilot, by campers in the area where his body was found, or did his wife hire someone to kill him? The number of suspects in the case overwhelms Patterson, but a notebook in the pocket of the dead pilot provides clues to the last weeks of the pilot’s life.

With no time to spare for old bones, Patterson gives Jane permission to research the remains she found near Karluk Lake. Jane’s investigation into the bones seems harmless to Patterson, but she awakens a decades-old crime which some believed they’d buried long ago.

Will Patterson find who murdered the pilot before the killer leaves the island, and will Jane’s curiosity put her life in danger? What evil lurks at Karluk Lake?

Karluk Bones link on Amazon

Excerpt:
I turned and ran into a thick mass of alders and willows. The rifle blast nearly deafened me, but somehow, the bullet missed me. I pushed through a willow thicket and found a narrow game trail on the other side. I could move much faster on the game trail, but so could the man, and I was also a much easier target out in the open.

I ran a short distance down the trail and heard the loud report of the rifle again. A bullet struck a tree in front of me, and I darted back into the thick brush and pushed through the undergrowth. This area showed no damage from the fire in May, and I struggled through the jungle-like growth. I lost my sense of direction while fighting through willows and alders, and I didn’t know if I was heading toward the lakeshore or away from it. I did not want to emerge on the open shore where the guy could easily spot and shoot me.

I tried not to make noise but found it impossible to hurry through the willows without breaking branches. When I exited into a small clearing, I expected my assailant to be waiting, but I saw no sign of him. I found another game trail leading back toward my camp, and I ran down it, tripping once over a fallen branch. I recovered my balance and began to feel I’d temporarily lost my pursuer when a powerful force slammed into my left shoulder and sent me toppling. I lay on the ground dazed, unsure what had happened. I didn’t remember hearing a blast, but there must have been one. I’d been shot.

Karluk Bones by Robin Barefield

Interview:
NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
RB: I write a true-crime newsletter about murder and mystery in Alaska, and I based Karluk Bones on two of the stories I’ve covered in my newsletter as well as on a horrific experience a friend endured, and on a psychopathic trapper who threatened my husband’s family. The plot for Karluk Bones percolated in my brain for a long time as I thought of a way to combine these tales. Of course, I tweaked the stories to fit my plot, but they prove truth is often stranger than fiction.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
RB: The most challenging research I did for this book was learning what a forensic anthropologist can decipher from old bones. I thought it would take only an hour or two to research all the questions my protagonist needed to ask the forensic anthropologist, but the answers to those questions turned out to be tougher than I expected. Most of the material I found was either too simplistic or too complicated. By the time I finished my research, I’d learned a great deal about bones, and my protagonist was able to get the answers she needed.

NA: A fun fact about writing your book
RB: As I mentioned, I mostly based this book on a terrible incident that happened to a friend of mine. When the book was released, he immediately ordered the Kindle version, and he was thrilled when I recently sent him a signed copy of the print version. I felt excited and a little relieved to receive his approval and know he was excited to be a part of the book.

NA: Do you have a full-time job?
RB: Yes, my husband and I own a lodge on Kodiak Island in Alaska, and the lodge is open from May until late November. In the summer, I work as a fishing and wildlife-viewing guide. We operate seven days a week with few breaks, so writing can be a challenge. I always carry a notebook and write whenever I have a few minutes. Since I write wilderness mysteries, I love writing when I’m surrounded by nature.

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
RB: I started writing when my mother had cancer, and I sat by her bed during her final weeks. I was very depressed and decided I should write down my thoughts. Before I knew it, though, I’d written several pages about a woman who escaped her dying mother’s hospital room for a few minutes to drive in the country. A car sped down the road past her, missed a turn, and catapulted into a wheat field. The woman found the driver near death, and he whispered a last nonsensical message to her.

Within no time, I’d discovered a way momentarily to escape my grief, and I’ve never stopped writing since then.

NA: What is the biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer?
RB: Writing is hard, lonely work, but the biggest surprise I’ve had is how much I love it. I’m much happier when I’m writing, and if I’ve had a bad day, I close myself in my room and write. Now, I believe I need to write to remain sane.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time, or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
RB: I fall somewhere in the middle. I always develop an outline, but it’s not a tight outline. I know where I’m headed in the story, but I allow myself some wiggle room. Thoughts and ideas come to me while I’m writing, and often, these ideas make my story better. I don’t want an outline to hem me in so much that I can’t incorporate new ideas and storylines.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
RB: I live in the middle of the wilderness in Alaska, so I don’t meet many authors here. My publisher, though, put together a group of authors to help each other promote our books (https://authormasterminds.com), and we meet once a week online. I love the camaraderie I feel with these other authors. I also enjoy meeting and getting to know authors such as Dee and Jan. We live in separate areas of the world, but we understand the joys and frustrations of being an author. I would never have enjoyed the pleasure of meeting Dee and Jan if I didn’t write books!

NA: When you’re not writing, what do you do?
RB: When I’m not writing or podcasting or working at our lodge, I love making dichroic glass jewelry and weaving antler baskets. I sell both my jewelry and my baskets and use the proceeds to pay for editing and publicity for my books.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on?
RB: It’s comfortable and warm. It’s snowing and windy here tonight, so warm is essential!

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning.
RB: No!! Then, I plan my writing projects for the day.

NA: Strangest place you’ve brushed your teeth.
RB: I camp a lot, so I’ve brushed my teeth in many strange places, but I guess the most challenging place was near Karluk Lake, where we had a camp in the middle of a large concentration of huge brown bears. I brushed my teeth outside my tent in the woods, so I either waited until it was light, or I brushed my teeth very quickly in the dark.

NA: What are you working on now?
RB: I am now working on my next novel as well as a non-fiction book about the wildlife of Kodiak Island. I write a monthly newsletter about real murder and mystery in Alaska, and I have a podcast: Murder and Mystery in the Last Frontier, available at https://murder-in-the-last-frontier.blubrry.net

NA: Why do you set your stories in the Alaska wilderness?
RB: I believe the adage: write what you know. I’ve lived in the Alaska wilderness for 35 years, so I am very comfortable writing novels set in the wilderness. I wouldn’t be good at writing a story set in Los Angeles or New York City.

Meet Robin Barefield:

Robin BarefieldRobin Barefield lives in the wilderness on Kodiak Island, where she and her husband own a remote lodge. She has a master’s degree in fish and wildlife biology and is a wildlife-viewing and fishing guide. Robin has published four novels: Big Game, Murder Over Kodiak, The Fisherman’s Daughter, and Karluk Bones. She draws on her love and appreciation of the Alaska wilderness as well as her scientific background when writing.

Robin invites you to join her at her website, and while you are there, sign up for her free monthly newsletter about true crime in Alaska. Robin also narrates a podcast: Murder and Mystery in the Last Frontier.

Robin is a charter member of Author Masterminds.

Watch a short webinar about how Robin became a published author and why she writes Alaska wilderness mysteries.

Amazon Author Page
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Website

A handbook of life: The Quest by Stephen Paul Tomie

Here is a non-fiction book about life and what we’re doing in it. We welcome Stephen Paul Tomie!

The Quest by Stephen Paul Tomie

The Quest blurb:
This book is looking at yourself through the five (5) Ws. The why, the when, the who, the where, and the what. Why these factors entered your life, how they affected your life, the reason or logic behind them in your life, trying to explain your life’s action, and the real reality of them in your life in the first place, or in this case how all these factors contributed to me in making me who I am, and the right and wrong of my actions taken.

Handbook of Life:

  • Learn to live with what you have.
  • Feel free to share your love.
  • Always show others you care.
  • Try to speak without harsh words to anyone.
  • Seek happiness throughout your life.
  • Solving problems helps make you strong.
  • Heartache is a part of life.
  • Do not be afraid to fail. Success will be your reward.

Buy link:
Amazon

Meet Paul and his book:

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
SPT: It just came to me as an idea that would be fun to write as well as examining my own mental processes and emotional state by looking inward to try and understand what makes me tick. It also allowed me to take a walk down memory lane and see what was stored away in the back corner of my brain. It was enlightening to recall my childhood antics and my major pitfalls in life so there were smiles and painful moments where I wished I’d either not done or been sharp enough to have avoided in the first place.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
SPT: There wasn’t any research as it all revolved around myself and what I could remember at that time. It actually helped stimulate the brain and possibly stave off dementia?

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
SPT: The main thing I want readers to take away from this book is twofold. One, they can have a laugh at my expense, and two, it may cause them to stop and think about their earlier life and what memories are stored away. It may even cause them to realize they were either a good child or like me a little devious hinging on a little bad, but not terrible. Hopefully they too will be shocked with what they recall and not recall of their youth.

NA: A fun fact about writing your book.
SPT: A fun fact about writing this book was how amazed I was that my brain could recall incidents of my childhood I thought were lost forever. Also, to be able to laugh at myself once again at my behavior and the corners I’d painted myself into.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
SPT: No, I don’t have a day job and not for the last ten years. Every day is now a Saturday and my schedule every day is what I want it to be, except for professional appointments. It is nice to boycott early mornings after forty years of an alarm clock

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
SPT: It was just something on my bucket list of things I wanted to do and now I’ve had the opportunity to try it. I wasn’t sure if I could write a book but as they say, ‘you will never know unless you try.’ My wife’s illness and watching how brave she was as she fought her cancer astonished me. In her near-death stage, how thoughtful she was to organize what she wanted done, her funeral, flowers, music, versus to be read, and the after service visitation. She knew in my hour of grief I would be a basket case and unable to function well, so she took that responsibility off my shoulders. I had to honour this lady. Writing “Now You Have Her.. Now You Don’t” is a tribute to a wonderful lady, to let the world know what she’d done in her life and her fight for life. It became easy to describe in this book as the pages seemed to flow.

NA: The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer
SPT: The biggest surprise I had after becoming a write was from friends and relatives on how impressed they were by my books. Another surprise came from readers of “Estate Planning & Executor Guide” telling me how helpful it was as a resource, especially for executors of family estates. That my book actually helped others faced with the difficult task of clearing up a family estate is worth more than money. The second biggest surprise was a Palliative Care hospital was willing to put all my books in their library for family members visiting sick relatives. Priceless to me.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
SPT: No, when sitting down to write a book, I just jump right in with both feet, so I guess it’s a seat of your pants approach. The subjects I write about are very familiar or have affected my life or felt as in my poetry. Its expressing emotions and trying desperately to reach the reader to experience what I was feeling at the time.

NA: Do you have quirky writing habits?
SPT: I don’t think I have any quirky writing habits but then I have never told myself that I do. I guess in all honesty, I don’t like to take a break from what I am writing until I get to a certain point where I feel comfortable to leave it. Sometimes my body lets me know I’ve been at it too long as I am stiff and sore. I don’t watch the clock!

NA: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
SPT: I like to go to the gym three times a week for about two hours. This frees up my brain from writing and life issues that bother me, and it helps prevent medical problems. Also, visiting friends over a glass of wine and catching up on their news is very rewarding, Believe it or not, grocery shopping, I love to fill the grocery cart as full as possible and see at the check out how carried away I got.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on?
SPT: My only concern is that it coordinates with the pants I chose. I’m a bit of a clothing horse, as the expression goes, as I have closets for winter outfits and closets for summer outfits.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
SPT: If I have to set the alarm for an appointment that’s in the early hours, I roll over and say to myself just a few more minutes. I might fall back asleep and wake up knowing my whole day is thrown off because I didn’t get up what that confounded alarm went off!

NA: What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
SPT: The most famous person that I would like to have dinner with would be Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who wrote the Sherlock Holmes novels. I have the utmost respect for his writing skills and the way he lays out the stories. I would love to just sit and talk with him and find out where he gets his inspiration and the characters he creates.

NA: What are you working on now?
SPT: I am currently working on “When Your Time Is Up” which delves into my theory that we are given a number at birth and when you come to earth we are working on a time table and likely you won’t have a have a choice when the Angel of Death comes for us Or is it possible we can cheat death through our own actions or some outside forces?

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
SPT: I would like some feedback from your newsletter readers on their opinion of The Quest. Their opinions and suggestions would be welcome and appreciated.

[NA: Please do let us know if you have anything you’d like to pass on to Paul. Either Jan or I will get your questions/comments to him.]

Stephen Paul TomieWhere to find Stephen Paul Tomie:

Publisher
Amazon Page
LinkedIn

Fantasy Island #MFRWauthor

Great Britain: my fantasy vacationFor those who remember that TV show from decades ago, you know that everyone who arrived on Fantasy Island always left happier than when their flight landed. If they were lonely, they left with a love by their side; if they arrived to take advantage of someone, they were caught but their supposed victims were saved; if they came despairing, they left with newfound hope. Fantasy Island cured all ills. So what better fantasy vacation than Fantasy Island? Except, I’ve been to the LA arboretum that served as the outdoor FI set and know that it was after all, just a show. My real fantasy island, and where I’d go back if I could, is Great Britain.

I’ve been lucky enough to go to Great Britain three times, once with my mom and aunt, once to combine a driving tour through Scotland with my college roommate, to visit my mom and aunt who were living temporarily in York, and finally to attend an Oxford summer program, and once to spend a week in London with hubby. I enjoyed it each time.

A year before my first trip, I borrowed multiple issues of In Britain Piper in Scotlandmagazine to read about a country I had no working knowledge of. So much of what I saw in the magazines I wanted to see for real but of course there was no way. Still, I had a good idea of what was available and sights that might interest me but not my mom and aunt. Nothing disappointed!

But even with all my planning, I still haven’t seen any of Wales. Nothing of Cornwall or Norfolk or Devon, or any number of other places I’ve read about in literature all my life. I haven’t seen the corners of Scotland or the far Highlands, or any of the islands, other than Skye, which in itself is magnificent. There’s still so much I want to see and do, but it’ll have to wait to be addressed in further dreams. That’s why Great Britain is my fantasy island and dream vacation spot.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
One Woman Only: The Good Man Series, Book 2 Jonah’s story! Can a simple mechanic rekindle with his high school love? She says no, but Jonah loves a challenge!

Mystic Desire
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Lies of Gold takes SILVER: Best Historical Book, 2019!!

Lies of Gold by Jan Selbourne

Coffee Pot Book Club awarded Lies of Gold and our Jan Selbourne SILVER place in the Best Historical Book Awards, 2019! If you’ve ever wondered if a book deserved an award, put your doubts aside for this novel. Here are just a sampling of Jan’s reviews:

“Just finished Lies of Gold and was completely blown away.” Author Judith G White

“Lies of Gold is not only an absorbing and heart-warming romance, but it is also a grand adventure, filled with deplorable villains and likeable rogues. I cannot praise this book enough. I enjoyed every minute of it.

If you are looking for your next Historical Romance read, then do yourself a favour and check out Lies of Gold. You won’t be disappointed.

I Highly Recommend.” Mary Anne Yarde, The Coffee Pot Book Club

“I loved this fast paced, edge of your seat murder mystery romance combination page burner of a read. The emotions the characters depicted were outstanding. The hero and heroine without a doubt compatible. The story line flowed brilliantly. It was as if you were watching in on a big screen. Lies of Gold is an absolute must read!” Tricia Davis. Historical Romance Addicts

“I was truly drawn into this story of romance, adventure and suspense. The characters were rich and deep and the storyline was captivating. Lies of Gold is a the best historical romance novel I’ve read in years! I look forward to reading more of Jan Selbourne’s books in the future. Well done!!!” Betty Ann Harris

“I didn’t want the book to end I wanted more time with the characters. That to me is. the definition of a fantastic book.” Carol Rising

“IF ALL HISTORICAL FICTION WERE THIS GOOD, I’D NEVER READ ANOTHER GENRE!… This is top-notch writing by a gifted writer who has an undying fan in me. Bravo Jan Selbourne.” Viga Boland, author No Tears for my Father”

And there are many more reviews equally as sterling. Trust me, no one gets reviews like this unless their writing is tight, their historical reference is accurate, and their storytelling is superb!

Christmas gift Lies of Gold

I asked Jan about winning the SILVER award.

NA: Jan, how did you feel when you discovered you’d been nominated for Best Historical Book?
JS: Stunned. No other word for it. Last March the Coffee Pot Book Club gave Lies of Gold a fabulous review and I was thrilled to bits Mary Anne Yarde liked my story enough to award it Book of the Month. I thought that was the end of it until her email last month telling me Lies of Gold was a finalist in her book of the year awards.. I had no idea it was considered for any award.

NA: What about the morning the awards were announced?
JS: I’ll be honest, I hesitated opening my Inbox. To read I’d been awarded the Historical Book of the Year’s Silver medal was incredible I stared at the email in awe.

NA: What do you think it was about Lies of Gold that fascinated readers and won the award?
JS: I wanted my characters to be real people with flaws, who’ve made mistakes and have to live with them. In Lies of Gold my main characters had a brief torrid affair in their twenties, they parted in anger and the consequences were harsh. When they met again ten years later they were, like all of us, very different people. When writing historical fiction, I believe authors should try to provide an accurate as possible background of their era of choice. We can’t drop our hero and heroine into the Tudor period, or the Regency period and hope for the best. We must portray those eras warts and all. For instance, the Regency period was a renaissance of architecture, culture and fashion – and rigid class distinction, poverty and brutal penal system. In Lies of Gold I highlighted the unjust marriage laws of that time. A woman was the property of her husband with very few rights.

Jan, I’m incredibly happy for you and proud of you! Congratulations on your award!

Best Historical Book Silver medal

Blurb:
Their love affair ended in anger and painful consequences. Lady Katherine Ashford has guarded a secret through years of abuse. Fighting wars and hard living has numbed Julian Ashford. Then fate steps in. A traitor is smuggling gold across the Channel to Napoleon Bonaparte and Julian is ordered back to Halton Hall and Katherine. It’s her secret and the increasing danger that rekindle the love they once shared, then a murder reveals the shocking truth of the gold smuggling. However, nothing could prepare them for the devastating betrayal when they finally face the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Jan Selbourne books

Excerpt:
Julian walked out of the drawing room and felt a sliver of shock when he opened the door to his bedchamber. He couldn’t remember how he got here. Swearing softly, he walked to the window overlooking the front courtyard and rested his head against the glass. He’d fathered a child, a daughter. For nine years, his daughter had lived in this house as Charles’s daughter. His vision blurred. Ten years of hard living had buried those deep painful scars and all it took was one look at Katherine and that small girl’s face to peel it all away. Like peeling an onion, his eyes were stinging like hell.

He remembered the night he met Katherine as if it were yesterday. Charles was in France and he was in London attending a debutante’s ball. Bored out of his head with the simpering young females and strutting males he was looking for an excuse to depart when his cousin’s tall, elegant wife, Katherine was introduced to him. The orchestra began playing and he asked her to join him on the floor. It was a waltz; he took her in his arms, her eyes met his and he knew he’d met the only woman he’d ever love. They’d set off murmurs behind fans for dancing twice and they didn’t leave each other for a week. They’d made intense, passionate, love, they’d laid in each other’s arms and talked for hours, they were as one. She’d confided Charles was a hard, brutish man but she would not leave him because she’d lose all rights to her four years old son. He’d begged her, made promises he knew he couldn’t keep. She’d shaken her head in despair. As soon as Charles returned to London they would go home to Halton Hall.

He’d prayed Charles’s ship would sink to the bottom of the Channel. She’d cried in his arms; he’d cried in her arms. The day before Charles was due to arrive in London they became tense with each other and finally, distraught, he’d accused her of selling herself for the title and privilege. She’d thrown a heavy teapot at his head. When it struck, he’d seen stars for several seconds before shouting more insults. She’d furiously told him he couldn’t afford to keep her on his army pay. He’d walked out.

Julian barely remembered the following months of heavy drinking and angry self-pity until the army knocked his arrogance and selfishness out of him and saved his sanity. He knew damn well his army pay wouldn’t have kept her and he knew damn well she’d have lost all rights to her son. Knowing Charles, he would have demanded she be brought back to him and the law and the church would have supported him. Her life would have been worse than hell. Now this, Christ, never in a million years did he expect this. He wanted to walk away but he couldn’t because the whole damn top secret investigation would crumble or blow up in his face.

He sat down by the fire and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know it then, but that night fourteen months ago, changed his life. Benjamin Bloomfield, aide de camp to His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, had ordered Brigadier Sir Ian MacDonald, Sir Henry Whitton and himself to meet at a nondescript location on the outskirts of London. On their arrival, they’d been momentarily lost for words to find a sober and serious Prince Regent waiting for them. Senior government officials had drawn the Regent’s attention to the alarming amounts of gold leaving England. Well-placed sources in France had reported English gold was being smuggled across the Channel to help finance Napoleon Bonaparte’s army. Intensive investigations along the east coast had failed to find any solid evidence but the Regent was not satisfied. He and Bloomfield were convinced someone in the upper echelons of power and influence was behind it or protecting the smugglers. That night the five men present decided that from now on the Prince Regent would shrug it off as rumors and lose interest.

That night MacDonald, Whitton and Julian agreed to begin their search for the source. The Prince Regent named the secret investigation Spider’s Web. The three men thought the name childish but they dutifully indulged His Royal Highness. Not one word of the meeting was recorded and at the conclusion the Prince Regent instructed the three men to meet on the first day of each month and report their progress to Bloomfield the day after. Their investigations were secret and painstaking and gradually they began to close in on this part of the coast. They had observed from a distance, they had moved a little closer and then, as with every other investigation, the scent disappeared. However, they were convinced and MacDonald decreed Julian was the only suitable person to come and go around the Ballingford estates and the coast without raising suspicions.

Julian stretched his feet towards the fire, remembering his furious refusal to return to this place he despised intensely and how he nearly resigned his commission when summoned to a private audience with the Prince Regent. High Treason was involved and as an officer of the Crown he was expected to do his duty. He’d reluctantly bowed to HRH’s orders and it was agreed that to be convincing he’d have to be in dire straits to return. His debts, scandals and fistfights were carefully and authentically orchestrated culminating in him being bawled out by Ian MacDonald who’d conveniently forgotten the raw young corporal and scandal loving clerk in his office. Then their one reliable informer, who’d only agreed to meet him under strict conditions of anonymity, was found with his throat cut. He and Baker had arrived at Halton Hall with no idea of where to start or where to look for the needle in the haystack of boats and fishermen and identify whoever was behind this well organized group of traitors. When he did find evidence, his orders were to send a coded message to MacDonald and Whitton and the net would close in.

No matter what was thrown at him now, he could not walk away. They were so close and if the web was broken it could not be repaired. Nor could he let down Ian MacDonald, his uncle and mentor, to whom he owed so much.

Buy links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble

About Jan:
Jan SelbourneJan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Website: Nomad Authors
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