Tuesday, July 30, 2024

Sewing Up a Summer Read

It's time to pack up those books and head to the beach or the mountains or just sitting outside in the back yard under a shade tree with some great reading maaterial. My guest today in My Writing Corner sounds like she has just the book to take with you.  

My guest is Ellen Parker, and her new book is Stitching A Dream which will be published on August 7th but is presently available for pre-sale. Raised in a household filled with books, today's guest, Ellen says it was only natural that she grew into an avid reader. She turned to writing as a second career and she says she enjoys spinning the type of story that appeals to multiple generations. She encourages her readers to share her work with mother or daughter – or both.

Ellen currently lives in St. Louis. When she is not guiding characters to “happily ever after,”she’s apt to be reading, walking in the neighborhood, or tending her tiny garden. You can find her on the web at www.ellen-parker-writes.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ellenparkerwrites. Let's find out more about Ellen's latest book.


What is your book that you will feature today and how did you come up with the idea to write it?

Today’s feature, Stitching a Dream, is a companion book to my previous sweet historical romance, New Dreams.

Polly Black, a minor character in the previous book, is the sort of person who deserves to have some good come into her life. So I thought about the type of man who would move to the fictional town of Elm Ridge, Illinois in the autumn of 1851. Thus, Kurt Tafel, a shoemaker from a Deutsch community in Pennsylvania was created.

I hope the reader will enjoy meeting new characters in this book as well as find a few smiles for familiar faces portraying new roles.

The tagline is: Reputation is a woman’s fragile cloak—she best keep it mended.

Now let's get a blurb: 

Prepare for consequences when you love your neighbor.

 

In 1851, Polly Black arrives in Elm Ridge, Illinois with little more than her sewing skills, her young son, and the persona of a widow. To preserve her reputation, she needs to tread lightly when a recent widower, a powerful man who knows she never married, courts her. A new shop opens across the way, and the owner’s friendly face is a welcome sight for both Polly and her son.

 

Born and raised in a Pennsylvania Deutsch community, Kurt Tafel moves to Illinois for adventure and an opportunity to run his own cobbler shop. He’s not an immigrant, but is he American enough to act on his feelings for the intelligent and pretty seamstress?


Let's talk to Polly Black:

Why have you moved to Illinois and what do you hope to find there?

Perhaps we should begin with a word about my childhood. I was born in Virginia in a tiny hamlet near the Ohio River. Our family, my parents, one older brother, and I, moved frequently —always Westward. I remember homes in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. My mother died in Vandalia, Illinois the year I was fifteen. Within a week, father packed us up and we all moved to St. Louis. During the next ten years, father died, my brother moved in and out of my life, and three charming Deutsch seamstresses taught me the finer points of their trade.

Until May of this year, 1851, I remained in St. Louis. Throughout the last five years I heard whispers of the location of a man I loved once. This spring I felt I could wait no longer and acted to discover if the rumors were correct. As I soon learned, the information was accurate, but incomplete. Unexpected events soon destroyed any hope of re-forming a relationship with the man.

What attracts you to Kurt?

My very first impression of Kurt Tafel, when he crossed the street on a Sunday morning to greet my son and I, was of a handsome, strong man. I soon discovered that he was intelligent and kind—two values I have always treasured. I enjoyed every one of our early conversations. He knows how to make an ordinary event sound extraordinary. He is proving to be a friend to my young son. Oh, I must admit—his manner of speech. You see, he speaks good English, but with a lovely Deutsch accent. 

What frightens you about him?

Kurt’s Deutsch accent and cultural background attracts, cautions, and frightens me all at the same time. With his background, he blurs the line between the immigrant community and the American culture I grew up within. A woman in my position is rather expected to marry—a fact I am willing to accept. However, I promised myself that any man I married needed to accept my son and treat him as his own flesh and blood. This appears to be a difficult goal for most men I have encountered.

What do you want most for your future?

For years, I have longed for a home and family that remained in one place and grew deep roots in a community. I spoke above of the frequent moves during my childhood. Even during my years in St. Louis, first my father and then my brother, as head of the household, moved us from one boardinghouse or rented home to another. In the last several years, I have discovered that working for wages suits me. Whether I marry or not, I intend to remain in Elm Ridge, raise my son, and work in the town’s dress shop. 

Want more? Let's get an excerpt:


“Good morning, Herr Tafel.”

Eager to see the man Joseph chattered about during yesterday’s lunch, Polly curved her lips into a small smile before turning. The man crossing the street was large, near to six-feet tall, with wide shoulders. He wore a well-cut, dark suit over a white, linen shirt. His face was round, his cheeks ruddy, and his mouth open as if to speak.  

“God has given us a fine, autumn day, has He not?” He doffed a flat, leather cap and exposed abundant, pale hair.

She swallowed sudden moisture gathering in her mouth and forced her gaze to abandon the handsome man. His favored address of Herr implied immigrant. She reminded herself to be both polite and cautious. “Indeed. Good morning—I am Polly Black. I believe you have already met my son.”

“Correct.” He  gave a brief nod toward Joseph before he looked directly at her face. “I walk this morning to the German Lutheran Church on Sixth Street. Are you going the same direction? May I escort you?”

She managed to hide her smile at his good English with a definite Deutsch accent“My son and I attend the American Christian Church on the same street. You are welcome to accompany us. I believe your destination is a few blocks farther.”

“Excellent. Danke.” 


You will have to get the book if you want to find out what happens. Here are the buy links along with her social contact information:


Buy Links to Stitching a Dream:

Kindle edition: https://amzn.to/3VwoeFh

Nook edition: https://bit.ly/3Ri8RNX

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/4ec8PRB


Social Contact Info:

Web presence:

Website:  www.ellen-parker-writes.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ellen.parker

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/eparkerwrites/

Thank you, Ellen, for being my guest today. Any comments or questions for Ellen?

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Characters Lead the Way

We're in the heart of the summer and it is time to relax and enjoy a few good books by the beach or in some secluded mountain cabin. Today's guest in My Writing Corner has an offering that sounds like perfect vacation reading material. My guest is author Joy Ross, and her new book is The Secret of the Ugly Brooch.

Joy M. Ross was raised in Missouri, and she says the 'Show Me philosophy' is still part of her roots when things sound doubtful. However, she has also lived in Oklahoma long enough to consider herself an "OKie". She says she stretches her gardening skills on a small acre outside Tulsa, which she shares with two rescue terriers, and a large, determined chocolate Labrador. One tuxedo cat rounds out the household. Sounds like a really full house!

Joy says she keeps busy with the pets, church activities, traveling when possible (Her family is not close so that always involves travel) and a part time cashier job."It is amazing some of the things people will tell you if you're willing to listen!" she says. Well let's listen while we find out more about Joy and her writing.


What do you enjoy about being an author?


Several things - I love immersing myself in the story, guiding my characters (or sometimes, having them guide me) and having conversations (I really like writing dialogue), and developing their personalities. I like the freedom of planning my day around my writing. What I don't like is having to stop when I'm not ready because there are other things in life that demand my attention. And one thing I like, that I didn't anticipate, is that I can hold up a copy of my book and say, "I did this! I am officially an author!"


What is the most challenging part of being an author?


I don't know if it's finding the time to write or getting it all down on paper fast enough. Sometimes technology also throws me a curve. I heard all the theories dealing with discipline, brain fog, creativity, writer's block, etc, and they are all valid and I've tried most of them. And the majority of the time, if I sit and start writing, it will come. But there are times it comes better, and faster than others. So you deal with it one day at a time. I do well with deadlines, so sometimes I set my own, ahead of schedule. 


How do you develop characters and/or plots?


I am not a true "pantser" or a "plotter". I call myself a "planser". My stories are character driven, and I put that character in a situation, and I know what I want the outcome to be, so I put stumbling blocks along the way. I have an idea of what, and who will help, or hinder, progress, and so I have to pantser things along until I get where I want to be. Then I devise a further plot to get there. Sometimes an idea will come along the way, and it's a light bulb moment - change it up!


Tell us about your road to publication.


My road to publication, like so many authors, is somewhat rocky, but it involved a lot of simply, not knowing what I was doing. Submitting a rough draft that was too rough, sending to the wrong places, a query letter that wasn't exceptional. I did not feel 'good enough' to try for an agent, so I did it all on my own. My changing point was when I decided to go to a critique group. I didn't realize I could just go, without something to read, so I brought my first chapter, prepared to crawl away with my tail between my legs. I already had a bit of a shell, due to rejections, but it was not as bad as I expected. Was it bad? Oh, yeah. But it was also constructive, and gave me the kick in the butt I needed. I kept going. 


Chapter by chapter, the critique group heard my novel, and I made changes. Two chapters became a half chapter, descriptions were added, deleted. After I made it through the entire novel, I decided to submit it again. This time I knew more about submitting, publishing houses, hybrid publishing, self-publishing, etc. I had attended more conferences, won some short story contests, talked to other authors. I knew I didn't want to self-publish. I wanted someone to pay me, not the other way around. I applied to small publishing houses. The first response was an acceptance for hybrid publishing, where they would publish, but I had to bear a good amount of the expense. I rejected their offer and moved on to the next publisher of MY choice, The Wild Rose Press. I knew another author who used them, and she had good things to say about them, and she wrote books similar to mine. They accepted my manuscript and offered a contract. I reviewed it, had an attorney review it, and the rest is history. I'm very happy with them. 


What is your book that you will feature today and how did you come up with the idea to write it?

My book is titled "The Secret of the Ugly Brooch". The original title was 'Lucky Day', then I discovered other books with similar titles (one in particular, by Mary Higgins-Clark, one of my favorite authors), so I decided to look elsewhere for a better title. Since I noticed the description of the brooch kept coming up as 'ugly' and that seemed unique, the title got changed. 


The idea for the story came to me after a favorite aunt passed away. "What if" is an idea creator for me. So, what if someone were to attend a funeral, and the will stipulated that whoever came to the deceased's funeral inherited everything? That is what happened to Emma and the story took off from there. 


Let's get a blurb: 


After Emma witnesses a theft and murder, she hides from the killer, but circumstances cause her to be thrown into a life of luxury and secrets. 


She feels safe, hidden away in her secluded estate. Detective Mike Wells keeps tabs on her and soon discovers that she is not only in danger but is about to be the center of attention. Interesting and enjoyable characters surround Emma and Mike, and while their attraction grows, so does the tension as the evil comes closer to home. 


What’s your next project or what are you working on now?


The book I am working on is the 2nd in what I hope is a trilogy. I'm calling it "The Legacy of the Ugly Brooch". The final book, which is rattling around in my head, will have a slight supernatural aspect. 


I may write more than a trilogy regarding the Ugly Brooch and the Grand Lake Stone Lion Inn. After all, it is an inn, and any number of interesting characters may stay there. 


What advice do I have for beginning writers?


Believe in yourself, and learn the craft. Acknowledge where you need to improve, and do it. And if you do this, never, EVER give up.


Here are the buy Links for Joy's book and her social contact information:

 

Amazon: The Secret of the Ugly Brooch 


Barnes and Noble:  The Secret of the Ugly Brooch 


Google Books:  The Secret of the Ugly Brooch 


Social Contact information:


I write under :   Joy M. Ross

FB: joy m ross (author page)  Regular FB page Joyce Ross

@joyrosswrites

Email:  writerjoymross@gmail.com 

website:   joymross.com'

instagram:  @joyrosswrites


Thank you, Joy, for being my guest today. Any questions or comments for Joy?


Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Let's Go North!


Since one of my favorite places to visit is Vancouver, B.C., and I frequently buy a few books there whenever I visit, I'm always pleased to welcome authors from Canada.
My guest today is Frank Talaber, who has been a blog guest in the past. While Frank was born on the wild Canadian prairies, tired of the winter months in Edmonton, Frank immigrated to the more temperate cedar forests of coastal British Columbia. He says, yes, they get snow in Chilliwack during the winter months, and on those odd occasions. he is forced to search out the snow shovel, dust off the cobwebs and have a go at the snow, not the cobwebs.

Frank says that while his "run-of-the-mill" day job of auto technician/service advisor might seems at odds with being an inspired, off-the-wall, author, his zest for life, the environment, and the little muses that won’t let his pencil stay still, spring from his mother’s Hungarian ancestry. It’s the Gypsy blood, he says, which pounds through his veins with wild abandon, driving him to the realms of fantasy.  This is the muse inside, the essence of Frank Talaber. 


To date, Frank has more than fifty articles/short stories, sixty blog posts, over ten interviews and fifteen novels written or published. 


Today Frank has us meeting an interesting character, Agnes Van Lunt from The Ainsworth Chronicles Series, Book 1: The Joining and Book 2: The Mystery of Mrs. Teak.


Agnes has a psychic gift that she got from nearly dying when she was twelve, she can read minds which drives Carol, our main Protagonist in the Ainsworth Chronicles, crazy. Let's get blurbs from the two books before we learn more about Agnes:



The Ainsworth Chronicles, Book One:
The Joining


Welcome to Victoria in Beautiful British Columbia, the most haunted city in North America, and to Detective Carol Ainsworth's first day undercover at the five star Fairmont Empress Hotel. With two Italian families flying in for a wedding she did not bargain for the ghosts, the hot FBI agent, hotter Mafioso or the ancient curses that come along too. Add to that the mysterious psychic lady claiming you've invited her, young boys disappearing, and the weird things happening to the unfortunates looking for their next fix trapped alongside spirits in the sewers. Carol finds her first undercover assignment way more challenging than she could have imagined. 

  

 




The Ainsworth Chronicles, Book Two:
  The Mystery of Ms. Teak

What if in order to save a young boy’s life Agnes, our esteemed psychic, had to alter timelines? And agree to bring someone long-dead into the present? While Carol, she has her hands full with pissed-off Russians, born-again ghosts, a young girl claiming to be our aforementioned psychic, and, to top it all off, there's something very wrong with Nathan, her nephew, that they saved from death. And as for our psychic, Ms. Teak? She ain’t helping much, is she!


Agnes, tell us about yourself.

I was born in 1941. American. Born Salem, Sedonna, some spiritual place, to a rich Pennsylvania dutch family. I like to wear large brimmed hats and elegant clothes. 

I pick up others thoughts. One side effect to that is I hear the thoughts of people that have recently died. When I was around 12, I had an accident. I nearly died but somehow came back, but 10% remained on the other side stuck in the vortex.   My powers increased or activated after the accident, my mom told me:  

“When you came back, I knew you were different. You didn’t play with your dolls anymore. Instead I’d catch you staring out the window of your room. Saying weird things and staying away from the other kids in school. You told me you didn’t like what the others said about you, or thought about you.”

Your eyes were different, there was a strange depth, darkness to them.”

I never knew what she meant until I got older. I became a recluse, didn't like hanging near people because I could pick up their thoughts. It took awhile to learn to shut my mouth. My best friend thought I was a rude spoiled little bitch. 

She slapped my face and never talked to me except when needed in school. I lost a lot of people and now knowing how kids are, to be expected.

I was married three times. My first husband was an English Archaeologist and was the love of my life. He willed Cider to me, a crystal skull found by his family. He died of cancer at fifty. The skull, by the way, enhances my ability and allows me to see other things, like ghosts and talk to them. 

I am a psychic. My stage name is Ms. Teak. 

How did you meet Carol Ainsworth?

I first met Carol at the Fairmont Victoria Empress Hotel, after a mafia drug lord is found hanging in his room, strung up by what appears to be a ghost. Carol asked me what I was doing there to which I replied.

        “You asked me here.”

“NO, I didn’t,” Carol replied. 

“Oh, yes, you did.” And the friendship is off to a running start much to Carol’s chagrin.

Let's find out more about the relationship between Agnes and Carol.

Carol hates Agnes, especially in the second novel, The Mystery Of Ms. Teak, because she knows Agnes is holding the truth from her and refuses to divulge it. The flip side is that Agnes can’t reveal her plans to Carol, otherwise it will endanger Carol’s Life and possibly unravel timelines Agnes had to erect in order to save Carol’s nephews life. 

Agnes also drives Carol crazier since she won’t help her with saving a down and out drug addicted girl, Rosie which unknown to Carol is actually her daughter Charlene with Rosies mind and soul in her body which was swapped by a satanic villainess Agnes had to defeat and again Carol can never know.

Here's a quick excerpt of Agnes driving Carol nuts.

        “Yes, and I am glad for what I’ve done. I’ve made two people live happier lifetimes. No regrets on my part.”

Agnes sat stunned, speechless for once.

Carol waited a moment for Agnes to say something, then continued. “As a police officer, I’ve come across a lot of downtrodden people who were once brilliant. Lives destroyed by whatever. After all I went through in past timelines, and in this one, I have realized that all that really counts is to make the world, and the people in it, better somehow. What have you to say to that?”

Agnes merely blinked several times, sipped at her tea again, and stared at Carol. “I got nothing.”

Carol rose and began to walk away. She spun around then stomped back. Several people sitting near them watched as Carol placed both hands on the table and leaned over toward the old lady, and some leaned in to hear what she was about to say.

“**** timelines.” Carol tried to quell the rage and said as softly as possible in a deep voice, “And dimensional rifts and any other woo-woo bullcrap. Here’s what I know from the bottom of my heart: I’m here to make the world a better place.” She pulled her badge from underneath her Empress uniform and slammed it on the table in front of Agnes. 

The old gal jumped slightly. 

“I’m a police officer, a detective, and as you and I know, a justifier. I’ve made the world a better, safer place in this lifetime by making some people happy and improving their lives. For me, that’s all that counts.”

An older couple to her right lightly clapped their hands. Carol looked at them, realizing she was making a scene. “Thanks. Sorry about that.”

Two older ladies to her immediate left were staring, rather shocked. “Nice outfits, love the earrings. You should try the scones, they are to die for,” Carol said as she grabbed the badge and quietly walked away.

Agnes got up, straightened her large red brimmed hat and walked off with as much class and decorum as she could muster while several patrons gawked.

The older gals looked back at each other. “Vas just happened?’ one said in broken English. “Nin sprachen de Anglish.”

“I think die Frau just quit.”

“I think die alte Frau needs now use der waschraum.” 

They both chuckled to each other. “Ve know, Ve Vould.”

“I think she was going to arrest her.”

Let's get one more excerpt before we say goodbye to Agnes from The Mystery of Ms. Teak, Ainsworth Chronicles, Book Two. 

To set the scene, Agnes is trying to find out who (another being) is inside a young girl. So she decides to do a séance with a spirit being she created in book one, The Joining, a man that has been dead for over a hundred years, Sir Francis Rattenbury. Hey, it is in his hotel, The Empress in Victoria, yeah gotta invite the guy really. Also a drug addict she saved from death in the sewers and is trapped inside her crystal pendant, her younger twelve year old self from the past and a emo goth type of employee of the Empress. 

Is Agnes sane? Well, she sleeps with a crystal skull, that explains a lot. 

Agnes had Cider on the table in the center of the room as the service person knocked on the door and entered. "I heard I'm being asked to be part of a séance? And these are the only candles I could scrounge up on short notice, from last years Halloween." She smiled, staring oddly at the pale blue tinged Jeanie and placed the garish pumpkin and skull candles on the table in front of Cider. "This is looking so rad!"

Agnes had even had a round table brought into her suite and everyone sat around it, with Cider in the centre. "Now, I believe management mentioned I needed someone with an open mind?" she said to the young lady sporting black lipstick and pale makeup, bearing a remarkable resemblance to several of the people Agnes had bumped into during her last visit to the morgue. Except, of course, they didn’t have the nose and lip rings.

"Yes. I'm Xena Willow Tree, and I'm so into trippy. Done a few of these with my, like, fellow emo girlfriends. This is, like, looking so spicy! Oh look. You’ve one of those skull thingies from Fan Tan Alley. Nice ornament. Rad!”

“I’ll have you know, young lady, that Cider here, is the very furthest thing from being an ornament.” Agnes said the last word with distaste. “Cider is the very real thing with many mystical properties. As you will soon experience.”

“Really? I mean, like, for real? An actual, real crystal skull? Oh wow. I’m gonna lap this up!"

"Good. You'll need an open mind here. Now. I've placed a dimensional rift around the room to keep out unwanted spirits except for those we ask in. Be prepared for the unexpected." Hopefully one that will keep away that evil woman as well.

Agnes placed her sapphire pendant and placed it on the table beside her in front of the last chair, still empty. Young Agnes stared. "I thought there was supposed to be six of us?"

Jason shimmered into view as he came out of the pendant. "Here I am my dear. Now let us get the show into action." His disembodied voice echoed around the room. His hands solidified some more and took Agnes' in one and Xena’s in the other.

"He's lit! Where can I get one of those?" She grasped his hand in shock. “I'm shook!"

"In your dreams," Agnes replied.

Francis stared at them all. "This should be a most interesting séance. We've a fairy being in this circle along with a ghost spirit from a pendant, Agnes the world-famous psychic, her much younger self from the past, myself, the builder of Victorian Victoria, and a bemused, what I'm told is called 'Gothic', member of staff, who appears to speak another language."

"Like, this is yeet," she gasped. "My friends are not going to believe me in a million years. I've got to take a selfie."

Agnes held up her hand. "No electronics, put that cellphone over in the corner. Trust me, the picture wouldn't turn out anyways. Now. Let’s try to keep the talking to a minimum, shall we?” Agnes gave Xena especially a long stare. “Close your eyes and focus on one Rosie Overoud. She is, or was, my daughter Charlene. I need to contact her without someone named Gladys knowing and this séance I thought would be the only way. Inside of her is a being that I'm trying to locate and talk to."

They waited as Cider began to fill with light from the centre of the table before the group. Xena, especially, gasped.

"I remember the being inside of her was rather hairy," Francis mentioned.

A nice-looking man in 1800s clothing shimmered into view. Above him a full moon emerged and he began to tear off his clothing as he transformed into a hairy beast with fangs and claws before letting out a loud howl to its lost lover of his soul the moon.

"No. The split personality fits but wrong hairy man, something more subtle, less hair more creature. Our man didn't have fangs, a bit more finesse than that." Agnes shook her head. "So clear your heads again and concentrate."

"You ain't nothing but a Hound dog, cryin' all the time." Fifties rock and roll filled the room and Elvis shimmered into view, his hips gyrating wildly.

"Sorry guys, that was me," Agnes gasped. "Met him before in that strange place you call Lost Wages which is slang for Las Vegas. Wrong kind of hairy creature. Whatever you think of may appear so we need to concentrate on Charlene."

"Thank you, thank you very much," Elvis said as he dissipated.

"Like, wow! This is so extra. For an old guy he's sexy." Xena blurted out.

"Old guy?"

"He's, like, my great-grandpa's age."

"Lady, after this I'll take you on a trip to the fifties. You've never seen a man move his hips like he could. Well, except for one of my ex-husbands, but I digress."

"No, I got it, I know who," Xena smiled as a man swinging from a vine yodelled wildly dressed only in loincloth.

"My dear you must have been watching Tarzan. He isn't hairy, he hung out with hairy dudes, like monkeys, gorillas and Orangutans."

"Sorry! Bad ‘shrooms that night."

"Okay, I think we're done." Agnes pulled her hands away from the others. Bonus, I think I know where she is now.

"So do you think he has always been like this, torn between good and evil?"

Jason thought for a moment before shrinking back into the pendant. "The legends around him seem to suggest so."

Xena ran over to her phone and began texting. "So Bae, like I have to spill the tea to my emo friends, they are going to think I’m so, like, spicy!"

She stormed out of the room without a goodbye.

Francis stared at the others. "I sometimes wonder if the evolution of technology has actually made us more imbecilic."

Agnes added. "Was it me, or do I need a dictionary to understand half of what she said?"

Doesn't Agnes sound like a fun character to know?  Well you'll have to use the buy links below to find out more about her and Carol Ainsworth and Frank's social contact information:

Buy Links:



Getting Into The Story

I've said it before, but it bears repeating--one of the reasons I began doing a blog on writing and writers was because I loved the idea...