Category: Uncategorized

What’s in a Name?

A roseIs a rose by any other name just as sweet really? Maybe not. Names carry meanings, after all.

As writers, we often spend an inordinate amount of time searching for the best names for our characters. I particularly have a hard time finding a name easy to type. (Yes, it’s true. I use the two finger method and not all names are created the same for us non-typers. My protagonist in Passionate Destiny is named Margaret and I had a devil of a time typing those letters in the right order.) I also like to have names that sound and mean what I want. Most of us want a male name to sound strong. Maybe a female name, too. Or maybe a sweet name for the female protagonist would be nice and a mean sounding oneWhat's in a name? for her nemesis is just the ticket. So out of curiosity, I decided to look up name meanings. For both the girl and boy names below, I used a baby naming site, babynameguide.com.

Boys:
Aaron (Hebrew, Exalted one)
Brand (English, Proud)
Cullen (Irish, Handsome)
Morgan (Scottish, Sea Warrior)
Will (English, Resolute Protector)

Girls:
Cherri (French, Beloved)
Haley (Scandinavian, Heroine)
Patricia (Latin, Noble)
Sonya (Russian, Wisdom)
Yvonne (French, Archer)

It was fun just reading down the lists to see names I’d never heard before, like Dawnette (Sunrise) or Wacian (Alert). I found some names not much in use any more, like Mildred (Gentle advisor) or Valentine (Strong). There are lots of different sites to learn about names and the research is good—if you don’t get too carried away.

Not that I ever do… 😉

Thanks for reading!
Dee

Bad Reviews #MFRWauthor

I’m reminded of Shakespeare’s line in Henry VI, “…let’s kill all the lawyers!” except in my mind it’s “…let’s kill all the reviewers!” (Just kidding!) The line in the play is a mockery of what would happen if those who are meant to represent the accused are done away with. Chaos would result, along with the justice system. The writing world without reviewers would also suffer, though perhaps not collapse.

Reviewers present one person’s snapshot of a book, one person’s truth as he or she sees it, at the time they read the book, and so is not the end all, be all for the book or the author. Authors shouldn’t take it as such, either. So here are a few things to remember after you thrown a pillow against the wall (throw only soft, non-breakable stuff!) and cry into said pillow after you retrieve it.

  • Reviewers point out things wrong with our books that we can fix in our next book. Characters not cleanly drawn? Descriptions lack depth? Not enough (too much) emotion? Do better next time. Reviewers give us a chance to improve.
  • Reviewers aren’t God. They can make mistakes. They can be wrong. They can be totally off their rockers and… Well, let’s leave it there. Read what a reviewer says, evaluate it objectively to see if you feel they’re right, and then move on. Rehashing a criticism does no good.
  • Reviewers provide as much joy saying nice things as they do saying negative things. When I reviewed (yes, I’ve spent my time on the Dark Side), I always tried to say something nice even when I wasn’t particularly fond of a book. I also tried to phrase the good comments in a way the author could use it in a snippet for their website.
  • Reviewers are people, too. They appreciate being thanked for their work, even if you don’t feel like thanking them. Maybe they were having a bad day when they reviewed your book. A polite word might make all the difference the next one of your books they decide to read. Like chicken soup, it can’t hurt.
  • Reviewers are one way to publicize your book, so take everything good from a review that you can and (as my brilliant author friend, Jan Selbourne, says) flog it for all it’s worth!

Reviewers are good for the writing industry. If we are blessed with good reviews, thank goodness! If we are cursed with bad reviews, get the angst out of your system and keep on writing, taking any useful advice from the review that you can. Good luck!

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Marriage and Trucking? Yes!

I wrote this blog post many years ago, but since we just celebrated our 46th anniversary, I thought it deserved a second run! I hope you enjoy!!

Marriage Lessons Learned from Driving a Truck

On the event of his fiftieth wedding anniversary, a friend asked my father-in-law if in all those years he ever considered divorce.

“Never,” he said right away. “I thought about murder once or twice, but never divorce.”

Now his son and I are closing in on the fifty-year mark and I completely understand what he meant.

Our marriage has been a contradiction. We spent a lot of time apart–years in one case–and also a lot of time joined at the hip–again, for years. While the months and more we spent living in separate states was hard, the time we lived in each other’s pockets made the biggest difference in our lives. That’s when I learned the tips of making a marriage last.

Jack and I met in eighth grade algebra class, children of military fathers and a somewhat unsettled lifestyle. He was nice and funny, but before the next year started, he left for private school. We had no contact until sophomore year when he came home for Christmas. On the spur of the moment, he asked me on a double date, and my life changed course.

What if?When he went back to school after the holidays (which set the tenor of our dating years, more apart than together), he pronounced us soul mates and predicted we would marry someday. How romantic! Or at least that’s what I thought.

Jack’s mind took a more practical tack. No roses or poetry for him. He didn’t even believe in dating exclusivity, saying this was our time to make sure we wanted to share our lives with each other. Good advice, but it didn’t quite fit my picture of what Prince Charming would say. Before long, he proved through example what he did believe in, loyalty, fidelity and rock-solid reliability, making him more of a Prince than lots of romantic guys I knew. I was no dummy. As soon as possible I grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him to the nearest church.

Besides me, Jack also loved trucking. He told me over and over while we dated that he someday wanted us to drive a truck together. Naturally I had little knowledge of what that entailed. All I knew of trucks was that where they parked the food was good. That proved to be a little sparse on the details.

“It sounds wonderful,” I said with stars in my eyes. “Yes, let’s do it someday,” someday being the operative word.

So it was some surprise when, a short year after the wedding, Jack diligently went about finding a way we could go on the road. I had a college degree (the only person in my family to make it that far) and felt sure I’d set the world on fire. More than that, I was an only child, and my parents insisted that “trucker” wasn’t a profession for their daughter. What about stability, building a resume, buying a home? What about grandchildren? I assured them they had little to worry about.

“Look at this,” Jack said one Sunday morning. He handed me a copy of Trucking--fun and clothedParade magazine with a man and woman on the cover, standing in front of a Peterbuilt truck. “This is what we should be doing.”

The article described their lifestyle driving for a company out of Minnesota. The woman was pretty, the guy handsome, the truck huge with a double bed, TV, and ‘fridge. Wow! Their exploits sounded exciting and adventurous, like modern-day pioneers, except truckers could down icy Cokes on their trek across the desert.

Wanderlust struck like summer lightning. “Where do we sign up?” I asked.

Almost before I got out the words, we gave up our apartment, sold our furniture and resigned our jobs. Jack’s parents waved us off, reconciled to our insanity. My parents weren’t happy but they decided we had to make our own mistakes. We drove to Marietta, Georgia and signed up with a company that operated east of the Mississippi. Jack finally laid hands on a semi and trailer he could load with freight and drive on the open road. I laid my first good gaze on truckers. Oh. My. Gosh.

Now I hate to generalize, but three quarters of the men I met had serious problems keeping teeth in their mouths, hair on their heads and belts below size 48. I began to wonder about the food in those truck stops.

“You aren’t going to become toothless, are you?” I wondered aloud to Jack.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Uh, never mind.” I hated to rain on his parade. Obviously the man had eyes only for his truck.

And what a truck it was. The semi in the Parade article gleamed a nice green and gold and had all the comforts of home. This conglomeration of rusted steel and rivets barely seemed able to make it across the parking lot without losing pieces. The cab held only a suitcase or two, stored under the twin-size bunk. Beneath the dirt, our aged Mack was dull pumpkin orange. I bit my tongue and climbed in.

Rural road without iPhoneJack had the necessary experience to be a lead driver, but I had nothing but the required Class A license, gained in our home state by answering “Yes,” when asked if I’d driven fifteen hundred miles in a Class A vehicle and handing over eighteen dollars. Jack spent every free moment in the truck yard, teaching me to shift gears and start and stop without stalling. Then we traveled back Georgia roads until I acquired the knack of when to shift. By the end of the week we were off. Was I nervous?

“I’m nervous,” I said the first time I drove on the Interstate.

“Keep the shiny side up,” Jack said, and promptly fell asleep.

And here is where I learned the first lesson in making a marriage last. Trust.

Jack trusted me, fool in love that he was. When one partner is driving, maybe tired, maybe in bad weather or horrid traffic, the other partner has to believe in the driver’s judgment and skill. Even though I didn’t have his experience, Jack knew I wouldn’t take chances and that I wouldn’t be too proud to ask for help if I needed it. His trust gave me confidence.

“I did it!” I practically shouted after pulling into a rest area and waking him up. I’d driven fifty-eight whole miles but felt as though I’d won Daytona.

I improved each and every day, driving farther, driving smarter. A few months behind the wheel gave us the self-assurance to apply at the company we read about in the Sunday magazine, and soon we guided a fancy, big truck along the western highways as well as the eastern.

One day we sat chatting with another trucker from our company. “How long you been out here?” he asked me.

“About six months. I’m only doing it for a year, though.”

He shot Jack a toothless grin. “Too late. She’s already got it in her blood,” he said. “You got yourself a trucker.”

Another marriage lesson learned. Go with the flow and be flexible. Fate rarely hands you what you plan. I’d always imagined having five children, a nice house and professional job. Never did I envision living out of a Wedding ringssuitcase, traveling North America, spending my time with men (mostly) who didn’t read much more than a Rand McNally. If I had imagined such a scenario, I probably wouldn’t believe how much fun it was, or how much I loved it.

I grasped yet another lesson one cold Montana Sunday morning. We planned to stop at a nearby truck stop for breakfast, so Jack sat up with me while I drove. There was little traffic. If we’d been wolves, we’d have been loping along, chatting pleasantly, without a care. Then a truck passed us, giving up no spray off his tires from what had looked like a wet road.

“You know,” I mused. “I think we might be on black ice.”

“Um, we have been for the past ten or fifteen miles,” Jack said. “I thought you knew.”

“Oh. Oh, sure. I did.” I didn’t change speed, just kept it steady. We pulled into the truck stop a few minutes later, behind the truck that passed us.

“Kinda greasy out there, wasn’t it?” he said as we walked in together.

“Sure was,” I answered knowingly. Jack chuckled and let me off the hook.

The lesson? Stay calm even in bad situations. Every partnership faces trouble at some point. Going off the emotional deep end usually doesn’t help. This wasn’t an easy lesson for me to learn, by the way. I vaguely remember screaming, “We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!” when Jack fought to keep us from jackknifing on an Oregon mountain. He reminded me to calm down in what I thought an overly stern manner, but I forgave him.

I had a mountain experience, too. I’d just started my driving stint in western Montana when unexpected construction put us on a very narrow two-lane road chugging up a steep incline. I had never driven up or down a mountain that wasn’t part of the Interstate system. I called to Jack.

“There’s no place to pull over and I don’t know what to do,” I explained as he came awake. My hands gripped the wheel but I felt immediate relief when he spoke.

“Just do what you’re doing. You’re fine. Take it easy.” Then he talked, just talked, about nothing in particular, and I answered. Maybe fear led him to the conversation, but he didn’t show it.

I shifted as needed, and before starting downhill made sure I found a gear that would hold us back. “I know I’m going too slow for the line of trucks behind me,” I worried aloud.

“That’s their problem. If they hadn’t had that second cup of coffee back in Butte, they’d be ahead of us.”

I laughed, took a deep breath and did just fine, as Jack predicted I would. At the bottom I asked if I handled everything as I should.

“You’re upright, so you did good.”

Those were good words to hear. Lessons learned: Don’t be afraid to rely on the person you love most in the world. (They should be able to rely on you, too.) Prayer is a powerful thing. You won’t always do everything exactly as the book says, but that’s okay if you come out upright at the end.

Maybe the greatest lesson I learned from trucking was how important it is to choose your mate carefully. For eight years, except for using separate bathrooms in truck stops, Jack and I lived within an arm’s reach of each other. Even when we took time off, we spent our time together. Yet for all that, we never ran out of things to say, ideas to explore, or something to laugh about. Good looks are nice. Sex is great. But loving someone you can talk with even after days together in cramped quarters is the definition of a good marriage, in my mind.

Soon after we stopped driving, Jack became a consultant and took jobs all over the country. Often, contractual obligations kept me from traveling with him and as much as we had been together, we lived separately.

Would we have made it through the apart times as well if we hadn’t learned those marriage lessons from the road? Probably, but I’m glad we didn’t have to find out. During years of dating and our early married life, I was in love with Jack. Trucking is a hard life and not romantic, as many people think. But you can find romance and deep, abiding love. Our time on the road introduced me to my husband, a man I loved.

As his dad later quipped, learning our marriage lessons didn’t keep me (or him) from imagining the occasional murder, but they gave our shared life depth and meaning. They made it so, in the worst of times, we kept truckin’ on.

Thanks for reading and thus sharing our anniversary!

Dee

In case you missed it: New anthology and April news!

Aussie to Yank newsletter

Jan Selbourne and I have a newsletter we call Aussie to Yank. She’s the Aussie (!–a Saucy Aussie) and we have fun talking a bit about our changing, backward seasons, what’s going on in our necks of the woods, our books, and our lives. There are also jokes each month to make you smile and an Author Friend corner.

The newsletter is sent out monthly (roughly). To join, just drop either of us an email and we will sign you up! dsknight@deesknight.com or janselbourne@gmail.com.

Here’s a sample! In this month we take a jump on the new supernatural anthology Black Velvet Seductions will launch this fall. I think you’ll like our newsletter!

Thanks!!

Dee and Jan

Bragging Ain’t Marketing (and vice versa) #MFRWauthor

Well, that tile isn’t exactly right. There is a certain amount of bragging involved in marketing—if you consider talking about your talent and works as bragging. Someone has to do it, right? If you can’t, some credibility is lost. And we can’t always count on others to do the heavy lifting or promoting and supporting our work. So… It’s either share your accomplishments with the world or face the possibility that they won’t be shared at all. The way you share can make all the difference.

Bragging man“I just won a big award!” Said one way, it’s bragging. Said another way, it’s marketing. Here are a few ways marketing and bragging differ.

  • Bragging is all in the words, which serve are the total value. Marketing uses the words with substantiation to add value.
  • Bragging is fodder for the ego. Marketing is for consumers, or those outside yourself.
  • Bragging has no purpose except to make yourself feel better. Marketing serves a purpose with a tangible outcome.
  • Bragging irritates those around you with an “I, I, I” attitude. Marketing educates and entices others to learn more about you.
  • Bragging tends to make others think less of you. Marketing serves to establish your credibility and make others feel good about you.
  • Bragging can make people want to avoid you. Marketing (done right) will make people want to find more about you—and your work.

No one really enjoys being around a braggart, and after a while, their words tend to lose attention and value. Marketing adds value to words with proof. In the case of a book, “I just won a big award!” means more when teamedMarketing isn't all about you with a graphic of the award, review snippets that prove the award was deserved, and a plea to buy the book so that you, too, can enjoy this really great book—great because someone else determined it, not you. Sometimes there is a thin line between bragging and marketing, but other times they miss by a mile.

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

For a Killer Author, Zia Westfield!

Nomad Authors is happy to host an interview of Zia Westfield. She’s a very interesting writer! You might even say she’s a killer of an author!

Zia Westfield's Killer series

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
ZW: I love gothic romances. There’s something about the atmosphere that grips you from the start. I also had in my head the movie, Gaslight. That was the inkling that got me started on Killer Lies, but I really didn’t know where I was going until I reached the end. 🙂

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
ZW: I set my story in western New York State, near the Pennsylvania border. I had fun researching what kind of smuggling took place during Prohibition. I also spent time learning about reptiles in the area.

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
ZW: I hope readers walk away feeling fulfilled and feeling that Kelsey and Sam deserved the happiness that they found with each other.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time? What started you on the path to writing?
ZW: I have always been a voracious reader. I went through so many books growing up. I could never get enough. When I first came to Japan, it wasn’t easy to find English books and they cost a lot. Now with Amazon Japan and Kindle, books are only a click away. When my children were born, I was a stay-at-home mom. I itched to do something beyond childrearing and reading. I had all these voices in my head, demanding that I put their stories on paper. I started writing late at night, after my sons were in bed. It took a while, but I was never more proud than when I finished my first manuscript. I now teach fulltime. It can be tough sticking to a writing schedule after a long day at work. But those voices in my head won’t go away and so I make the time to write because it’s who I am.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
ZW: My family is generally proud of me, though no one has read anything I’ve written. LOL! My sons pat me on the back and tell me, “Good job.”

NA: The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer
ZW: I’m shy about sharing my writing with others. I teach and I present at conferences. I’ve given speeches in my city with the local mayor in attendance. I am not shy as a person. But when it comes to my writing and promoting myself, I become a turtle. I’m really working on being more confident about my books.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
ZW: I really really want to outline my books. I feel like I could be more productive as a writer if I had a plan. The reality is that I often have a beginning in mind. If I’m lucky, I can manage to outline a general plan. But, when I sit down, I often veer off from that plan and end up writing by the seat of my pants. When that happens, it takes me time to figure out where I’m going next and making sure that all loose ends are appropriately tied. Maybe one day I’ll figure out the magic formula to plotting.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
ZW: I recently learned that my first book Killer Secrets placed in the Oklahoma RWA International Digital Awards contest for 2018. That other writers judged my novel to be worthy of such an award, really brought it home for me—I’m a writer and my stories entertain people. [NA: YAY!! Congratulations!]

NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
ZW: Love scenes are the hardest for me to write. Some action and dialogue scenes will just flow from my fingertips. But writing love scenes that do not come off as clinical or mechanical is challenging! It’s important in a love scene that the connection between the characters jumps off the page. The reader has to believe that this is the right moment for these two characters to come together. If the chemistry is there, I know the scene will be the sensuous read I intend it to be.

NA: Why did you choose the shirt you have on?
ZW: It’s comfortable! I am all about comfort. I wear flat-heeled shoes for the most part. I dress business casual for work. I like to move with ease and I like clothes that breathe. I also like bright colors. The shirt I have on is a lovely fuchsia color that lifts my spirits.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
ZW: Hmmm…I’m not sure about the first alarm. I’m lucky if I hear it. I set about 5 alarms on my phone, which drives my husband crazy. I am not a morning person. And until you get one cup of black coffee in me—preferably Peets French Roast—I am not even human. 😉

NA: What errand/chore do you despise the most?
ZW: I don’t have a clothes dryer or a dishwasher. I’ll let you all guess what chores I despise! LOL!

NA: What are you working on now?
ZW: I am working on a novella that I hope to offer for free to people who sign up to my newsletter. It’s tentatively called Killer Date, but that might not remain the title. It features Melissa Carmichael, the sister of Sam Carmichael, the hero in Killer Lies. I’ve paired Melissa with Harry Fontana, a PI with attitude. It has my trademark excitement, suspense and romance with a dash of humor.

In the meantime, keep an eye out for Killer Deceptions, which should be released in Spring 2019.

Killer Lies

Killer Lies
Zia Westfield
(Deadly Encounters Series, #2)
Publication date: December 21st 2018
Genres: Adult, Suspense

Kelsey Tremayne’s life unraveled in the summer of her 16th year when she and a friend were abducted. She came out of the experience alive, but without memories of her abduction and her friend was never found. Rumors that she’d killed her friend in jealousy, and that she was mentally unstable, started and eventually her parents moved her away from Carville. Now, she’s back in Carville to settle her aunt’s estate. However, someone is watching her, playing with her mind. Could it even escalate to murder?

One man is willing to stand by her, protect her, and breach the barriers that have guarded her heart for so long.

Sam Carmichael stays focused on the job and keeps his personal interactions limited. The emotional instability of his wife and her subsequent suicide have made him leery of getting deeply involved with anyone. Even so, someone is targeting Kelsey Tremayne and the roots go back twelve years to an abduction that was never solved. As Sam is drawn deeper into the case, he can’t help admiring Kelsey’s strength and compassion and he vows to do everything he can to find the truth and bring her kidnapper to justice.

Can two people hurt by their pasts survive a criminal’s web to find a future together?

Goodreads Amazon USA Amazon UK Amazon Australia

Killer Secrets

Killer Secrets
Zia Westfield
(Deadly Encounters Series, #1)
Publication date: February 5th 2017
Genres: Adult, Suspense, Romance

With bills to pay, an orphaned niece to raise and her job on the line, Gemma Fitzgibbons needs a front-page story in order to keep her job. A serial killer and a corrupt detective, whose father was accused of corruption, offer headline possibilities, but when she confronts Jack Donahue, the detective is nothing like she expected.

Jack considers reporters to be bottom-feeders, and deep into the investigation of a series of murders in which the victim is posed with a wedding veil, he doesn’t have the time or inclination to delve into the scandal that ruined his father’s career. But Gemma won’t take no for an answer. Neither will she stop investigating the Wedding Veil Killer. When she attracts the attention of the killer, Jack is assigned to keep her safe. But Gemma isn’t about to hide away. She intends to use the leads she’s developed to help him track down the person responsible for the gruesome murders.

Torn between his dislike of reporters and his admiration for the smart, sexy, reporter he’s drawn deeper into the scandal in his father’s past–a scandal that someone will kill to keep hidden. But, when Gemma uncovers secrets about the scandal, and her life is threatened, Jack is determined to protect her. It’s also time to make a choice—leave the past buried or fight for the future.

Goodreads Amazon USA Amazon UK Amazon Australia

Zia WestfieldAuthor Bio
Zia Westfield creates suspenseful, exciting stories with romance at the heart of them. There is nothing more thrilling than watching two people fall in love despite the odds and the danger surrounding their every move.

She makes her home in Tokyo with her husband and three sons. She holds a full-time job, volunteers too much because she doesn’t know how to say “no,” and generally finds peace between the pages of a book or when she’s writing out the stories in her head.

Website (you can sign up for my newsletter here)
Twitter 
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Excerpt from Killer Lies:

CHAPTER 1:
Sam Carmichael switched his high beams on and eased off the pedal as he drove the narrow mountain road. Fat raindrops splattered the windshield of the SUV in a steady torrent that even the windshield wipers working double time couldn’t keep up with.

The Tremayne mansion drive should be another half a mile up the road. He’d be glad to get there. The mountainside wasn’t known for landslides, but the amount of rain that had been coming down steadily had been causing a number of accidents throughout Carville. Best-case scenario, he’d see the crazy cat lady and get back into town before anything bad happened.

Thunder cracked overhead, followed by a flash of light that lit up the road, revealing towering trees on both sides. He also caught sight of the gate that signaled the Tremayne estate.

He made the turn and pulled up beside the box attached to the wall. He lowered his window, pushed the button and waited for a response.

He’d been out here years ago when he’d been riding patrol. A woman dressed in shawls and surrounded by dozens of cats, or so it had seemed, had answered the door. She’d insisted that he find the person who was trying to steal her cats.

Setting aside his private thoughts, he’d checked the house and the grounds, but had found no signs of anyone having been there.
He’d chalked it up to experience and had forgotten about it until tonight, when the desk Sergeant had roped him into coming to check out a report of a possible burglary before going home.

“Lucky me,” he said into the darkness.

“Excuse me?” The voice crackled across the intercom.

Sam leaned out, ignoring the rain that pelted him, and spoke loudly.

“Detective Sam Carmichael, Carville PD. I’m here about the burglary.” He pulled his head back in and waited for the gate to open. Instead, the intercom crackled to life once more.

“Would you show me your badge, Detective?”

Sam reminded himself that he had become a detective to serve the public, even on foul nights when man and beast knew better than to be outside. He fished his badge out of his pocket and thrust it out towards the camera. How the hell the person on the other side expected to see anything with the rain coming down like it was, he didn’t know.

The gate suddenly creaked and slowly began opening.

“You’re welcome,” Sam muttered.

While he waited for the opening to be large enough for him to drive through, he gave himself a stern talking to. Crazy cat lady or not, he would do his job and be professional. Some days were the pits and today ranked as one of them, but he wouldn’t let it interfere with his job.

He drove up the long drive, noting the overgrown lawn and the creepy vibe given off by the ivy crawling up every inch of the turreted mansion, the branches overhanging the drive, and the coldness that seemed to emanate from the dark exterior. Before he left tonight he would make a point to the person who called the stationhouse to add lights to dispel the gloom.

He pulled the SUV as close to the front porch as he could, but he was still soaked by the time he reached the top step.

He pushed the bell next to the door and prepared to meet the crazy cat lady.

The door opened, and Sam stared dumbfounded. The woman before him was dressed in shawls and a long dark grey skirt, and had one cat in her arms while another curled up on a straight back chair that butted up against the wall.

But she was years younger—younger than him, he’d guess—and punch-in-the-gut beautiful.

None of it made sense and he said the first words that popped into his mind.

“What happened to the other crazy cat lady?”
***
Kelsey Tremayne winced at the question. When she’d opened the door, she hadn’t been sure what to expect. The security system needed a major upgrade. She had barely been able to hear the detective identify himself, and the rain and poor camera quality had made it impossible to see his badge clearly.

Though she’d debated the risk in letting him approach, she had decided to chance it. She gripped the pepper spray she held in her hand which was concealed by the shawls. It hadn’t been easy to call the police given her history with them, in fact, her stomach still felt queasy over the decision, but she needed the incidents on record.

Crazy cat lady, indeed.

“Please come in, Detective.” She stepped back and petted Sabina, the white Persian mix that had sought comfort in her arms when the thunder had started.

The detective entered, dripping water on the wood floor, and surveyed her from head to foot. He was tall, over six feet, if she had to guess, with a rangy build, brown close-cropped hair, and a stubborn jaw.

Kelsey could imagine what he saw. A not-very-tall, not-very-short, brown-haired, brown-eyed female with more cats than friends. Okay, he wouldn’t be able to guess the last, but it wouldn’t take long for him to stumble onto the truth.

Then again maybe he already knew it. After all, he’d asked about the other cat lady.

ROMANCE!! Sweet or hotter than a firestorm, check out BVS

I’ve been very fortunate to be associated with wonderful publishers (like Liquid Silver Publishing (my first publisher), Siren-Bookstrand, and now, Black Velvet Seductions (aka BVS)). I think you would enjoy books from any of them, but right now I’d like to tell you more about BVS.

Black Velvet Seductions

Yes, this is a shameless plug, but I wouldn’t talk about BVS here if I didn’t The Brute and Ifeel strongly about the brand. I can vouch for the fact that BVS publishes all kinds of romance, from, well from me to my partner in crime, Jan Selbourne, who writes historical romance. Writers like Alice Renaud, Patricia Elliott, Callie Carmen (just finished Nicolas and you should try it!), K.L. Ramsey, SuzanneA Merman's Choice Smith, and many others whose books I’ve been enjoying in the last year will make your heart happy. BVS searches out some of the best writers and pairs them with some of the finest graphic artists around (Jessica Greeley is especially talented!) for covers. Ric Savage, the man who runs BVS, strives for excellence in every aspect of the publishing process. Honestly, I’ve never worked with a publishing house who does more to help authors present their books to the readers.

So how can you find out about BVS? New books and special deals are showcased in the newsletter. I chatted with Ric Savage who runs BVS and asked what his vision is for the publishing house. He told me, “In the 5 years I have managed BVS, it has been my goal to get the books of our talented authors in the hands of romance readers. We like to get to know our readers and what they think. We are constantly looking to get their views and reactions to the stories. I have always seen that as a two-way street, and I think it only right to offer readers a chance to read our books at favorable prices. We offer new books to preorder at 99 cents. We also offer freebies at times. A way of keeping in touch is through our newsletter. It is very simple to be an Insider, you just sign up to our newsletter, and we will keep you up to date with freebies, deals, and our latest news!”

I hope you do subscribe! It’s an honor to be among some of the best romance writers and to work with BVS. I know you will agree.

Dee

Prologue: Worthwhile beginnings #MFRWauthor

I love prologues. Reading them sets the stage for me and gets my anticipation humming. And writing them is like adding backstory—which we all like to add Great opener!before it’s needed—without actually involving the main characters. It’s a win-win!

As I’ve mentioned before, when I first started writing several people told me one of the “rules” was that prologues were not popular and I would be better off not writing them. Most of the time I didn’t. But when I began adding prologues, readers told me their interest went up. So what’s the deal in encouraging writers not to use a technique that seems to work for readers?

For me, the trick is to write a prologue with action. It shouldn’t be more than a few pages, and usually not as long as a chapter. This isn’t the time to build a full character study. I like to tweak the reader (any reader, including…well you can see for yourself) with action tCute dog readinghat will have them asking, “What’s next?” Of course, both the character in the prologue—often the villain—and the action itself has to lead to the main character, but without actually having him/her appear. Build suspense. Leave character development to the book’s chapters.

That’s my take on prologues, anyway. What is yours? Do you like them, to read or write?

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Follow up: An Understanding Family #MFRWauthor

Last week, as part of the MFRW 52-week challenge blog posts, I wrote about the importance of my husband’s family as he fought through school with dyslexia. I just wanted to follow up with a YouTube video that we saw after we were married. When Jack viewed it he said that it showed exactly what it was like for him in the classroom. He also told me about a couple of teachers who recognized his difficulties and did things to make his class day easier for him while still keeping him in the group without being humiliated. Humiliation, unfortunately, played a part in too many of his classes.

The first thing he said one of his teachers did is stand in front of his row every time she was going to call on him for an answer to the next question. That gave him time to focus on what she would ask about. Another similar technique was when kids read paragraphs of text out loud. She started on the side of the room opposite him, He counted the paragraphs until she would reach him and again, he could focus on what he would have to do. Kids with learning disabilities–and even other conditions like shyness–need time to focus and prepare.

So this video is excellent. It was made many years ago but still applies to classrooms today. It’s long, but any part of it you watch is worthwhile. It’s called How Difficult Can this Be? A short three minute excerpt is here. If you’re a teacher or a parent with a child with learning disabilities, I know you will find this interesting.

Thanks!
Dee

An Understanding Family #MFRWauthor

I have struggled today to think of what only my family understands about me and I have to say, I couldn’t think of a thing. I mean, I’m kind of an open book. I asked hubby and even my mom and they thought the same—nope, what you see with Dee is what you get. Nothing special to understand there. I’m not sure if I’m pleased or ticked, but it is what it is. Still, my husband Jack is in a position to fit this topic.

Where I had polio as a baby, Jack had dyslexia. Two very different problems but both crippling in their own ways. With polio, I grew up having surgeries, limping, and wearing braces. My difficulties were easy to see. People quickly made my way easier because my problems were clear. Jack, on the other hand, suffered under the opposite perspective.

When we were in school, dyslexia wasn’t recognized as a learning difficulty. If you couldn’t read it was because you weren’t trying hard enough, you Dyslexiaweren’t reading enough, you were lazy or stupid. Jack’s teachers said as much about him in his classes. His problem was not plain to anyone looking at him. He looked sweet as an angel, but normal. Without some physical sign, there was nothing wrong. At least, that’s what people thought. So while I was given a pass for not being able to run, Jack was not given a pass for not being able to read.

That brings me to the topic of our blog post. No one but Jack’s family—and most particular, his mother—understood how hard he tried to do the things his teachers asked of him. Only his family knew the extra hours he put in studying, how lost he felt when he didn’t understand why he didn’t see theLearning disability same things the other kids did, or how much hurt he bottled up inside. His mom tried so hard to help him but didn’t know exactly what to do to make things better. Later, she gained her master’s degree in education with a specialty in reading so she could help other kids with Jack’s problem, so some good came of his hard time growing up. And as his family now, only I truly understand his pride in finishing his degree summa cum laude. It was a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of him.

All of his feelings about school were impossible to explain to friends. Beyond his actual physical disability, years of trying and failing to succeed at schooling takes a psychological toll, too. But that’s what family is for, right? To support and be there when no one else understands what’s going on in your life?

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!