Showing posts with label author. Show all posts
Showing posts with label author. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Romance Weekly


Welcome to my wee slice of Romance Weekly.

Here are my responses to this week's jackpot questions:



Who is your favorite character and why?



I love them all, of course. Graham, the hero in The Queen of Swords, is both noble and funny. Callum, the hero in The Knight of Wands, is a good-hearted romantic. Leith, the hero of my WIP, is a bit on the dark side, but still well-intentioned. If pressed to pick just one, I’d have to go with Alex Buchanan, the journalist hero in The Tin Man. He’s very complex and has lots of demons to overcome, but also is a really good guy.


Do you prefer to write your hero or heroine?


My heroes, hands down. All my stories, though told from both points of view, are really about him more than her. Even when I was a kid, I used to play Ken to my sisters' Barbies. I'm sure there's some deep psychological reason for this, but I couldn't tell you why I just find men more interesting. Or maybe it's just because I'm a heterosexual woman.


What are three things you can't write without?


Google, the fifteen beats of Save the Cat plotting, and a notebook to scribble down ideas.


Now it's time to head on over to hear what Kim Handysides has to say on these subjects.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Romance Weekly


Do you like to read romance novels? Wouldn't you like to know more about your favorite authors? Well you came to the right place! Join the writers of Romance Weekly as we go behind the scenes of our books and tell all... About our writing of course! Every week we'll answer questions and after you've enjoyed the blog on this site we'll direct you to another. So come back often for a thrilling ride! Tell your friends and feel free to ask questions in the comment box."

. . .

Welcome to my wee slice of Romance Weekly. Here are my responses to this week's jackpot questions:

How does your writing impact your inner life?

I'm a very creative person and I believe the creative spark has a spiritual source, so I find the process of writing very transcendent. Well, perhaps not on a bad day when my muse has decided to call in sick, but on a good day, there's nothing better. I also believe the books themselves serve a purpose in the world. My characters often struggle with their beliefs about God and faith and the hereafter and I believe those struggles might resonate for my readers.Before I published The Queen of Swords, I worried that people would find the character's discussions about religion off-putting, but so far, not one person has so much as mentioned it. Go figure. Writing the book also made me reflect on my own spiritual path, which has slipped too far into the background in recent years.

How do you hope your books affect your readers? 

I strive to write the kind of books I like to read: those that entertain, edify, and enlighten to some extent. If reading one of my books makes someone stop to consider something they've never considered before, then I've succeeded.

Has anyone told you your book changed their life? How?

Not yet and I don't know that they ever will, but it would be gratifying to hear. I believe literature can change lives and while what I write isn't quite at the level of literature, I still believe it could alter someone's perspective. Even if it doesn't and they simply enjoy the ride, I'd be satisfied. The Queen of Swords, my debut novel, released on Saturday and is now available on Amazon.com. It's been getting phenomenal reviews, which pleases me no end.

Now, off you go to read what romance writer Brenda Margriet has to say in response to these questions (mine!).

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Thursday Threads: Cursed be the Wicked by J. R. Richardson


This week's Thursday Threads spotlight shines on J. R. Richardson's whose incredible paranormal mystery romance, CURSED BY THE WICKED, hit the stores only yesterday. I'll be doing an interview with Jo during her Book Launch Blog Tour on March 10, so be sure to come back for that.

Here's the blurb:
Cooper Shaw lives his life under a pen name and enjoys the anonymity it provides during his journeys across the globe as a seasoned writer for a travel magazine. When his job lands him in his hometown of Salem, Massachusetts to cover the famous Festival of the Dead, he soon realizes that he can’t stay invisible forever as he faces ghosts from a past he’s been trying to forget ever since he left.
The city holds nothing but bad memories for Coop until he meets a quirky young woman with an old soul and curious insights by the name of Finnley Pierce. While she acts as his tour guide through a town he thought he knew, Finn helps him unearth the truth of his childhood and might even begin to open up his heart.
By unraveling the mystery of his father’s murder, Coop may finally accept who he is, where he came from, and perhaps even realize what he wants for his future.

Here's an excerpt:
“I came by Geneva’s to see you this morning,” I tell her. She slides her hands inside my jacket, around my waist. She holds us together tighter.
“You did?” There’s a smile in her voice. I grin but she can’t see it.
“I’ve gotten used to starting my days out with you in them.”
“You have?” She leans back to look at me. She’s stunned although I have no idea why. I’ve been so transparent even a bat could see through me the past few days.
“Yeah,” I tell her, “I have.” I brush the hair out of her face. Even through the rainfall I can see the blush in her cheeks. This is the most vulnerable I’ve seen Finn since Geneva’s, when she thanked me for handling Dan.
“Most people don’t like the way I’m so pushy sometimes,” she says. “They find it offensive. Some might even say I’ve got a smart mouth. Too smart for my own good, blah blah blah.”
She trails off at the end there and I laugh at the way she thinks I’m buying that none of it bothers her.
“Come to think of it, you did say something I found offensive yesterday,” I tell her half serious. She looks hurt but I can’t stop the smirk from spreading across my face as I back her up against the nearest tree.
She’s caught off guard by the move, I can hear it in the way her breath hitches. “What was that?”
She tries to recover but she fails.
“I believe the term you used was friends,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes. Her lips part, just barely. She swallows something down then clears her throat.
“Isn’t that what we are?”
I move my head from side to side. “I don’t think so, Finn.”

Watch the trailer:



Direct Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7UnPtcBVfg

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway (ends March 21):
a Rafflecopter giveaway


About the author:
A writer of stories and lover of life.
Jo grew up in Maryland with four siblings, three parents and an endless number of cousins within the vicinity. Today she lives in Florida with her two girls and a husband that shares her same sense of humor and basic take on life as we know it.
Life is too short to put dreams on the back burner.
She’s always loved writing, and always enjoys a good mystery, so in 2012, Jo wrote a novel that was picked up by the good people at Soul Mate Publishing.

Find and follow Jo online:

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Scottish Kings, Sex Slaves, & Senseless Battles

I invented a new acronym yesterday--or, at least, I think I did. SFPing. Shopping for publisher. Here's another excerpt from the book Kensington, Avon, and Loveswept don't want. The hero is Callum Lyon, a political astrologer who lives in a castle in Caithness, Scotland. He was made a drone of the Lamians, a culture of amazonian dark faeries, after falling in the battle of Flodden Field. In life, he was the court astrologer to King James IV of Scotland. In the book, he tells Vanessa, the heroine, that he and King James were taken by faery scouts from the battlefield and turned into sexual slaves (well, he was--James got a slightly better deal). Historically, James was believed killed in the battle, but his body was never identified, leaving the door open for speculation . . . In this scene, Callum, a shapeshifter, has turned himself into a horse to give Vanessa (the heronine) a moonlight ride down the beach.

Callum still vividly recalled riding into Northumberland with the army, his thoughts grim. The casualties would be heavy. Would he be among them? Would he never see his son again? But he had to fight. Had to. Despite what he knew. To do otherwise would have been an act of defiance punishable by death.
          He recalled lining up with the other horsemen along the top of a ridge overlooking a green but boggy valley. The enemy lined up on the other side, but further down, so the King ordered the army to move. Their new position was lower, but still higher than the English line. The charge sounded and the east wing tore down the hill, meeting the enemy in a deafening melee. He tossed his head, flinging the scene away. He doubted that was the sort of thing she wanted to hear. Who cared where the battle lines were drawn or who made the first volley? What mattered was that, when the smoke cleared, ten thousand of his comrades—almost half of their army—lay dead on the field. And not just foot soldiers, but hundreds of earls, lords, and knights—a whole generation of the Scottish nobility. Cut down like hay in a battle that should never have taken place.