Thanks for your support!
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Busy Weekend
WOW What a weekend Mollie is moving so we painted her house this weekend and she is getting things moved this week. I can't wait we will be neighbors now and we have wonderful news we received the contract for Dad's Heartbeat so in conjunction with our new website leave us a note and have a chance for a $10 gift card!!
Thanks for your support!
Thanks for your support!
Friday, August 24, 2012
THE WONDERFUL AMAZING ANNE HOLLY
On Waiting
A Guest Post by Anne Holly
“Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite.
Or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil or a better break
or a string of pearls or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls or another chance.
Everyone is just waiting.”
- Dr Seuss
I’ve heard actors describe their jobs as mostly waiting with
brief periods of action. I’ve also heard this is the common experience of
people in prison, police officers, and even soldiers at war. The action might
be strenuous, stressful, and/or traumatic, but 90% of the time requires
patience and the skill of waiting.
Writing is a lot like that, too. We do a lot of waiting.
Waiting for a book to sell, or a review to come. Waiting for a reader to
finish, or a contract to be offered. Waiting for a rejection or an acceptance.
Waiting for inspiration, or for energy; waiting, waiting for that break to
finally happen. Waiting for a release or edits, or waiting for a cover to come
through. There’s a lot of waiting. And worrying.
Writers need patience.
We also need endurance, of course, since writing is a
physically taxing and rigorous job. Typing for nine hours straight, sweating
blood over phrasing and trying to keep everything clear in your mind until you
can get it down, these are not just mentally fatiguing, and are also bodily
labour.
But a lot of the time, that endurance is about waiting, and
not reacting to the wait.
Mostly, the waits are horrible. Waiting for a break, the
writer can become quite despondent, watching other writers “make it” while your
book still languishes. Waiting for an acceptance email after submitting a
manuscript can turn you into an obsessive “refresh” clicker. Alternatively, you
could be the pessimistic type and wait for rejections, which can be equally
agonizing.
So, how does one wait skillfully?
Good examples of how not to wait can be found all over
Twitter and Facebook, with writers swinging back and forth between tantrums and
whining. Some can get quite bitter. I’m not talking about a few “man, I wish
they’d get back to me” status lines, but all-out rants and bursts of awkward
unprofessionalism. Writers are human, and I don’t doubt most of us do these
same things once in a while, but some things are best done in private.
Instead, most writers learn how to wait patiently, given
time, once we realize this is our lot in life. When the dreams of interviews
with Oprah and fawning book signings fade away, and we embrace the less showy
and dreamy realities of our work, we tend to learn the art of waiting.
Some writers will tell you to fill the waiting times with
promoting. But, I’ve learned this is the way to madness. Promo is the least fun
part of the job, and isn’t always fruitful.
For me, learning to use the waiting times productively has
been essential. Mostly, I read and I write. I gorge myself on books for a
period after a submission, and enjoy refreshing my mind with other peoples’
worlds and words. Reading
And, then, one day when my mind has been fed on books and
relaxed with unfettered creativity, I return to the next project.
I have dealt with waiting by realizing that a finished book
is no longer my concern. Certainly, I am pleased to hear from it now and again,
through acceptances, reviews and sales reports and so on, but it’s done. It’s
gone. It has left the nest. Now, there is only the Next Book. Waiting for the
previous book to move no longer makes sense once you understand this.
So, on to the next book, because a truth remains in this
business: you’re only as good as your next project.
Happy reading, writing, and living!
- AH
Anne Holly is a Canadian writer and author of the novels Strings Attached and Textbook Romance. Anne has published
four romance titles, five erotic-romances and one paranormal erotic story, and
has been published by Wild Horse Press, Decadent Publishing, Rebel Ink Press,
and Pink Petal Books. She is looking forward to releasing her Rebel Ink shorts
in a paperback and ebook anthology called All
I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection in October 2012, and, as always, is
working on something new. She is a teacher and mother, and currently resides in
Ontario
More Info:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Anne-Holly/140519945969686
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4509212.Anne_Holly
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004GR1CGY
Strings
Attached: http://annehollystringsattached.weebly.com/index.html
Textbook
Romance: http://textbookromance.webs.com/
Thursday, August 23, 2012
WOW IT'S HOLLEY TRENT!!
Hi, folks! I’m happy to visit today. I’m Holley Trent. I
write quirky romances that are sometimes hot, sometimes sweet, but always a
little bit ridiculous. I gotta ask: do you ever wonder what a writer goes
through to name characters in their stories?
(Well, if you’re a writer you already know that answer. Bear
with me, anyway.)
I try to be very intentional with my character naming. Most
of my stories, including my newest Rebel Ink Press romantic comedy novelette All Shook Up are set in Chowan County, North
Carolina. The demographics there are very specific because there’s not a lot
population turnover. Most of the surnames are going to be English but there’s a
small spattering of Spanish surnames there.
So, what do I do?
I use phone directories and yearbooks to pick out common
surnames in the area beyond the typical “Smith” and “Jones.” First names I can
be a little more creative with, but nicknames are the most fun to play with.
In All Shook Up,
my heroine Nicolette goes by the name “Nikki.” Her beau Charles goes by
“Charlie” (whereas his father Charles goes by “Chuck”). You can safely assume
if I call a character by their full name, they’re probably in deep doo-doo.
The novel-length spin-off to All Shook Up will be available next month, but I’m already cooking
up ideas for the next story set in that little world.
I need your help naming a character for that novel. So, in
the comments to this post tell me what your idea of an “old-fashioned” name is
and I will randomly pick one from all my blog tour stops this week and use it
in the next book. The winner will also get a mention in the acknowledgements
and I’ll make sure you get a copy of the book (whenever it comes out).
All Shook Up by
Holley Trent is available now for Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble Nook, in
multiple formats at All Romance eBooks, and also at other fine e-retailer
If you’d like to keep up with news about Nikki and her
little universe, check out my website holleytrent.com/blog or see what I’m
yakking about on Twitter. Just follow @holleytrent.
**
Tiny Excerpt of All
Shook Up:
Mercedes opened the office door, looked out to see if anyone
was lurking in the hall, and then pulled her head back in to close it. “The rumor is that she’s made one of those
porno movies—and not even the good ones that you get in the mail in plain brown
packages, but one of those shitty internet ones you have to download and then
hope nobody finds while they’re on computer printing coupons and shit.”
The right side of my face twitched. I didn’t even know which part of the
statement to address first. “Do you
think it’s true?”
“Wouldn’t be hard to find out. You want me to find out?”
I imagined Luz stumbling onto the computer her mother had
negligently left open on some scandalous link and shuddered.
“Um. No…um… Hey, you know what? I know a hacker-type guy who lives alone in a
trailer and who would probably love to do me a favor. I’ll ask him.”
“You mean that guy who lives out on Yellowhammer who has all
his windows painted black?”
I blinked mutely at Mercedes’ knowledge of the county crazies.
**
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
AND THE WINNERS ARE!!!
drum roll please ....dadadadadadadadadada
AND THE WINNERS ARE!!!
As you all know we are celebrating our new website and in doing so we have given away 2 gift cards and Kendall McKenna had a give away as well so here are the winners so far:
$10 gift card to Amazon.com and free ebook - Yvette
Kendall McKenna book credit and free ebook - Josie
$10 gift card - Shadow
I can't wait to do the other gift cards!!! Stay tuned!!!
Monday, August 20, 2012
LET'S ALL WELCOME LEEANN SONTHEIMER-MURPHY
For Love
Or Money
My grandmother, a storyteller in her own right, gave me many old-fashioned phrases along with life advice, love, and some heritage. She often would use the phrase ‘for love or money’ and it’s one which stuck in my head. These days, with my lifelong dreams of being an author realized and I find myself chasing to keep up the pace, I’m often asked why do I write? Is it for love of the craft or for the money?
The honest answer is – both. I love to write. I’m blessed or cursed depending on how it’s
viewed. I made up stories in my head as
long as I can remember. I applied early
stories to my baby dolls or my Barbies.
I talked siblings and cousins into elaborate scenarios. We didn’t just play ‘house’. My version involved wagon trains and westward
expansion, a variation I called ‘western days’.
I had another in which our actions happened in the past I dubbed ‘olden
days’, easy enough since we all lived in vintage houses at the time. I made up others like “Story of a Slave Girl”
in which I danced with abandon to music on the record player (yes, I’m that
old) while at least one male relative reclined to watch my antics in his role
as the sheik, king, or prince.
I probably wasted too much time in
school from primary grades through colleges because I often scribbled stories
if the classroom activities failed to capture my attention. Even now, I see inspiration in almost
everything – a flock of geese overhead (which I’ve seen two days in a row and it’s
very early to see such in August round these parts), an overheard phrase, a
lovely sunrise, or anything. But it’s
the mind set I have, a brain which wants to turn everything into a story, long
or short. Although I’ve only entered the
world of novels as an author in the past two years, I’ve written for most of my
life. Some of it was published in a
variety of magazines, journals, newspapers and online venues and some wasn’t.
`Would I do it for free? No. I wouldn’t.
While many folks these days have decided I am bloody, filthy rich
because I have books out in the world, I’m not.
I’m actually a long way from it.
Heck, I don’t even have what I consider complete financial
security. How much would it take for me
to feel rich or secure? I don’t know – but I would love to determine the
answer. Writing has become my business
and it generates income. I just received
royalties this past week and yes, those royalties helped pay for some needed
school supplies for my kids, office supplies to keep my cottage industry going
and some groceries to keep the family fed.
But rich? Excuse me while I roll on the floor laughing with a pile of
bills in my hand.
So I write both for love of the
craft, a love of story and also for money.
Because after all, authors have to
eat, put shoes on their kids feet even in the Ozarks, keep a roof overhead and
have a little fun once in awhile.
From
my latest release, a contemporary romance from Rebel Ink Press, Heart of the Ozarks, the blurb and an
excerpt:
After St. Louis TV weathercaster Cole Celinksi loses his almost estranged wife and three children in a car crash, his boss orders him to take a leave of absence. Against his will, Cole leaves the city in late May to find the rest and relaxation everyone else thinks he needs. Without anywhere else to go, Cole heads for Lake Dreams, a resort on the quiet side of Lake Taneycomo in the Ozarks he visited each summer as a child with his grandparents. Some of his best memories were made in the lakeside vacation haven with his summer friend, Maggie.
Upon his arrival, Cole learns Maggie now runs the place. Twenty years have passed but from the minute
he returns, they reconnect and soon their mutual attraction ignites. He fishes in the lake, takes Maggie to visit
some of the places he remembers and begins to find out who he truly is. Before
he can heal, he must learn to deal with his loss and to see if he can create a
new family with Maggie and her children. It’s a task he’s not sure he can
handle but if he wants to be with Maggie, he must. A near tragedy brings them
all together into a close knit unit and afterward, Cole may be able to make his
dreams reality.
Heart of
the Ozarks – Sweet, Emotional Excerpt
Within a half hour, he fried all the fish, took the fries out of the
oven and put a bowl of salad at each place.
They sat down at the small, rickety dinette table and before she took a
bite, Maggie linked hands with him. She
said a simple grace and they shared the meal, the first one Cole truly enjoyed at
the cabin since he arrived. Supper
evoked past memories of gathering around this table with his grandparents. They’d eaten fish then, too, on many
occasions. Cole recalled old times with a rush of nostalgia and joy, filtered
through the decades.
The remembered sense of family rested easy on his soul and as he
watched Maggie’s expressions shift as she talked and laughed, Cole felt like
she was also family. He’d known her for most of his life and they were
connected in a deep meaningful way. A
flash of guilt threatened to consume him because he’d never thought of Victoria
as family, not in the way he did Maggie.
She’d been his wife but Cole hadn’t felt the same. To prevent
self-reproach, he reasoned it wasn’t disloyal, just the way he felt. He couldn’t change it or help it.
A spectacular sunset commanded
the western sky with a panorama of vivid color.
Most of the earlier clouds and rain moved away to leave behind the
beautiful show. The red, orange and pink streaked sky created a stunning image. Cole saw it through the window and pointed it
out to Maggie. They headed out to the
porch for a better view and stood close, his arm draped across her shoulders.
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed.
A rapt look of wonder lit her face.
“Oh, yeah,” Cole said. “It’ll be fair tomorrow and sunny. No more storms for now.”
“Red sky at night, sailor’s
delight,” Maggie said and Cole smiled too.
He relished the old weather folklore, the adages and sayings. At the television station, he kept a
collection of them in a special file. Cole
tried to come up with something witty to say back to preserve the moment but
instead he noticed the rainbow, vivid and colorful, off to the far right
horizon.
“Look, Maggie!” he cried. “Do you see the rainbow? God, it’s pretty.”
“Oh, how beautiful,” she said, looking up into his face. “You know a
rainbow is a promise, don’t you?”
Cole lacked words but not
emotion. He turned her to hold her in
his arms and lowered his mouth close to hers.
“So’s this, Maggie.”
He kissed her. Cole tasted her
lips, soft velvet, and relished the taste.
Her mouth yielded to his without protest and her arms curled around his
neck until her wrists rested on his shoulders.
He shifted until her body touched his and tightened his embrace. The shared kiss touched off a fuse and Cole
swore he felt the fire move through his body as it ignited every nerve. Passion roused within but he tempered it with
a care and grace, one shifting lust with tenderness. Cole’s long dormant body revived and revved
like a finely tuned race car engine.
Maggie’s flesh relaxed against him, gave over to his arms with open
surrender. If they stopped, he
realized, it would be his call but Cole didn’t want to quit.
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