Friday, January 27, 2012

Davee Jones has humbaly agreed to be my guest today on my Blogg. Davee has a new fantastic book called ON ELLICOTT STREET, coming our early next month. Please look for it at http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/
 OVER TO YOU DAVEE-----

 Davee Jones recently had the privilege of an interview with author, Christian Carvajal. You can read more about him on his website,
http://christiancarvajal.com/ . Please enjoy this glimpse into some of what inspires Davee in her writing.-

"As for the sex in Davee's writing, "Most people do it," she shrugged. "God created it. It's a natural part of life, a very important part of life. The story I had to tell required it. Without it, the story would've been too bland."
I asked her what drew her to the subject of S&M. "That lifestyle fascinates me," she admitted. "The commitment involved is sometimes deeper than a traditional relationship." Was the novel based on her own experiences? "Some," she revealed carefully, "a small part, and other things were from people I knew or talked to. When you become interested in that lifestyle, you become friends with people who are involved."
"It changed me as I wrote it," she continued. "When you're involved as a personal experience, you can describe it better...There are some things I learned about that I'm not interested in, but someone else may be. Someone may read it and say, 'That's something I want to find out about, maybe even experience a bit deeper.' That does happen. And it's okay, as long as it happens behind closed doors."
Davee considers herself both a lover of God and a sexual free spirit. "People believe they've fallen because of certain things they've done," she says, "but if you believe in a loving God, then you have the opportunity to reconcile your relationship with Him." But she doesn't believe reconciliation has to come at the cost of a plain Jane, vanilla sex life. "I have an open mind. Open up your mind to a new experience, and you might learn something. You may not like what I have to say, but you might find some truth in there."
I asked Davee if her family already read her books. "My sisters have read it," she said. But she's ready for the inevitable fallout when her work hits the street. "I was more disturbed by my family being embarrassed, not myself at all. I had something to say, and that's why I didn't write under an anonymous pen name." Indeed, her actual maiden name is Davee Jones, which should come in handy as she starts her publicity campaign--she already has the name of a rock star. She and I are from similar small towns in Oklahoma, where expectations are limited and people don't write about taboo subjects. But as Davee puts it--a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree--"I've got something to say, and I'm proud of what I have to say."
I admire Davee's courage. In coming months, I'll be attempting to share it. Like Davee, I know there are people, even people who know me relatively well, who'll assume if I write about a sexual act, then I must be revealing my personal history (or my wife's). Like Davee, I'll inject relevant experiences into my work, never saying what's what or who helped, and then draw the rest from conversations with close friends or pure imagination. Get ready to know me a little better than you probably intended to.
In the meantime, check out On Ellicott Street and Finless. You may be inspired to visit your friendly local purveyor of fur-lined handcuffs. If so, hold your head high. It's a free world, not-so-Gentle Reader, and you're free to find the love you want in it. If Davee's right, even God will understand.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Hi, this was writen quite a while ago by my old friend Peter E. Abresch--- I thought it was interesting enough to post.

There is law, that which is, and folklore, that which we only
believe, just as there are naysayers, those who would discourage us
simply because we don't fit their folklore image of a writer, and
reality, the very real odds a writer faces in seeking fulfillment in
this the most difficult of arts. We must ignore the former, but be
aware of the latter if we hope to turn our sow's ear into a silk purse,
to use a cliche. (If you'd like a deeper discussion of writing as an
art, see http://www.sidewalkbooks.com/)

This is the subject of BookMarc #19
Naysayers and Reality.

First the folklore.

Agent Aaron Priest has said everyone thinks they can write a book.
Everyone. And yet, in a bit of a paradox, when we first embark on our
writing journey, we will find many who will ridicule what we are doing.
The reason is most people can't conceive of actually knowing someone who
has a written novel. When they are poo-pooing us--like that neat bit of
terminology--what they are really poo pooing is their own lack of
imagination. And even after getting a book published, we'll find that
people will still look at it with suspicion. Like, it's not a real
book, right? So the answer here is to be judicious in who we tell about
stringing words together.

Be judicious also in who we ask to evaluate our work. Some will
become instant critics and hate it all, others will love everything
because we did it. Neither are of any help. But a good critique group,
other writers who point out both pluses and minuses and offer
constructive suggestions, are worth their weight in gold. Always thank
them, and never argue. Never. If we speak up and say, "what I was
trying to say here was...," then what we need to go back and say what we
were trying to say. On the other hand, a critique is just another view
of our work. We should seriously consider it, try it on and see how it
fits, but in the end, it's our work. The final judgement must be ours.
But don't reject it simply because it means more work.

You must also consider me as a naysayer. BookMarc. As we move
along on this journey I'll be saying things about dramatize rather than
inform, about the difficulty of getting omniscient POV right, about
mixing first and third person together, but these things are done all
the time. I'm just trying to give you my best cut. If you believe in
what you are doing, ignore me. At your own peril, of course--ha ha. In
the end, anything done well and with finesse, and perhaps a bit of luck,
works. Allow me to repeat this one more time to drive it home.
Anything done well and with finesse, and perhaps a bit of luck, works.

That brings us to the reality.

Whether you believe it or not, folks, fiction writing is an art.
And like any art, painting, sculpture, pottery, and drama to name a few,
the pay for the journeyman is small and in some cases non-existent.

For each Hollywood star there are a zillion actors appearing on
small stages, in little theater, as extras, or as actor/ticket sellers.
For each person on the NYT best seller list there are a thousands of
midlist authors scraping by, and not scraping by. And for each of these
guys, there are thousands of pre-published and maybe
never-to-be-published authors learning their craft.

Fiction writing is the most difficult art in which to find
fulfillment. An artist can hang a painting on the wall, whether it's
good or not. A musician can play Mozart on a street corner. But the
only venue open for the fiction writer is to be published. And to do
that, he/she has to complete against all the other fiction writers in
the country, and perhaps the world. Those who teach writing, especially
those looking for students, often say that good writing will always win
out it the end. I don't want to discourage anyone, but I don't believe
it. There will always be terrific books that a publishing house won't
take a chance on because it's been done before, or because it's never
been done before. To fight against these odds takes real passion and
the desire to hone our craft until it is a work of art. I think I
mentioned a quote from Steve Martin. When asked how to succeed in show
biz, he said, "Be so good they can not ignore you." The same applies to
writing.

So, if you want to make money, IMHO, sell cumquats, or write
non-fiction, it sells easier and has a longer shelf life.

But if you want to write fiction, sit down with me in splendid
isolation, spin words into worlds, and in those rare moments when a
phrase or a sentence slips out of the ether so grand we have wonder
where it came from, and it's a keeper, enjoy the moment, for it's like
being touched by God.

It seems fitting here to repeat Hemingway's quote, "We are all
apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master."

BTW, is you know of a writer off list who would like these
BookMarcs, have them email me with Subscribe BookMarc And I'll add them
to the list.

Also if you'd like to check out some other discussions and the
table of contents of upcoming BookMarcs, click on the BookMarc a couple
of times at: http://www.easyreadingwriting.com

And remember: It's always better to light a candle in your mind by
reading Easy Reading Writing than to curse the darkness of rejections.
To check out the first two chapters with an easy order link to B&N,
simply click on: http://www.elderhostelmysteries.com/ERW002

Peter E. Abresch - BookMarc© February 13, 1998.
Author of The Faltese Malcom, Capitol Coven, If They Ask for a Hand at:
http://www.sidewalkbooks.com and the James P. Dandy Elderhostel
mysteries at:
http://www.elderhostelmysteries.com

Sunday, January 22, 2012



Tony AbbottAUSTRALIAN NEWS TODAY
What is your View? LEAVE A COMMENT

Australia will no longer passively accept the arrival of asylum-seeker boats from Indonesia if Tony Abbott has his way.



The Opposition Leader is determined to impose a new and tougher policy whereby Australia uses its navy to secure its borders.

If elected prime minister, Mr Abbott will tell Jakarta Australia will no longer passively accept the arrival of asylum-seeker boats from that country, The Australian reported last night.

A radical policy departure, this has far-reaching and unpredictable consequences for Australia-Indonesia relations.

In recent talks with his colleagues, Mr Abbott said: "This is a test of wills and Australia has lost.

"What counts is what the Australian government does, not what it says.

"It is time for Australia to adopt turning the boats as its core policy."

Mr Abbott said this would involve an increase in the number of naval vessels to force the boats back, including the capacity to remove asylum-seekers from deliberately sabotaged boats before repairing those vessels to enable the boat people to be returned to Indonesia.

The Coalition has also ruled out a political deal to revive Labour's Malaysia Solution and is planning a tougher regimen of temporary protection visas.

This includes a quota on the number of permanent visas issued to temporary protection visa holders to favour authorised asylum-seekers and to provide a disincentive to people making the journey by boat.

The Australian Greens have described the concept as "illegal and immoral".

Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young said the idea overrides Australia's international obligations under the refugee convention.

"It's immoral because it will put at risk the lives of navy personnel and asylum seekers," she said in a statement.

"Navy personnel who served during the Howard years have said turning back boats was distressing and they were in danger while they carried out the government's policy."

- With AAP

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Nice Refreshing recipee for left over Lemonade.

 

Ingredients

  • 4 ounces prepared lemonade
  • 2 tablespoons frozen concentrated fruit punch
  • 4 fluid ounces carbonated water

Directions

  1. Fill half of a tall glass with lemonade. Stir in 2 tablespoons frozen fruit punch concentrate. Pour in carbonated water until glass is full.

Nutritional Information open nutritional information

Amount Per Serving  Calories: 101 | Total Fat: 0g | Cholesterol: 0mg

Saturday, January 14, 2012

 Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Hi
today and for the next couple of days. I would like to welcome STAR AUTHOR-Kathryn Meyer Griffith: onto my Blogg
If you leave a comment for Kathryn you will be put in the running for a pdf. copy of The Ice Bridge. All I need is the heroine and the hero's name :-) and your email in case you win, thanks.
Further down the page Kathryn has written as essay on how the idea of The ICE BRIDGE came about. I hope you will spare a few moments to read this very informative article.


2012 Finalist for the EPIC EBOOKS AWARD for her THE LAST
VAMPIRE-Revised Author's Edition.
***


BLURB of The Ice Bridge by Kathryn Meyer Griffith:
She’ll fall in love again…with a man and the island.
Charlotte returns to her Aunt Bess and Mackinac Island, a
quaint retreat that welcomes summer tourists and allows no
cars to renew herself and write about the island’s ghosts.
She’s come to help Bess with her heartache, an ended love
with Shaun, and to renew a friendship with neighbor Hannah.
In winter Mackinac closes down and everyone looks forward to
the ice bridge that freezes across the Straits of Mackinac.
Until Hannah disappears into the icy waters crossing it.
Everyone says it’s an accident. But Charlotte and her
admirer cop friend, Mac, don’t think so. Something isn’t
right. Hannah was too smart to go off the path.
So it’s murder…but why…how…by whom?
In the end, it’s Mac–and perhaps Hannah’s ghost–who
saves Charlotte and Bess’s lives when the killer decides
they’re too close to the truth and tries to kill them,
too.

***


The Ice Bridge is an awesome book! It’s full of mystery, intrigue, and just a
touch of romance. It’s also full of ghost stories. They are brilliant and really add
something extra to the story. The characters are great and well developed. I loved
Hannah, she was a wonderful substitute grandmother to Charlotte. This book
is not a gushy romance and doesn’t have any love scenes, but I think it’s better
without them. I was beginning to wonder if Charlotte and Mac were ever going to
realize that they were falling for each other, but once tragedy struck, he was there
for her and their love began to blossom. The story focuses more on the interaction
between the characters and the mystery involving the ice bridge. The way it is
written, you almost feel like you are right there with the characters and a part
of the story. You especially experience Charlotte’s emotions first hand, I think
that might be why I had a hard time sleeping while reading this book – I was a
little spooked, but it was worth it! I would definitely recommend The Ice Bridge,
especially if you like ghost stories; it is well worth your time and the investment!

Victoria Lyn at MANIC READERS REVIEWS



 ********

The Writing of THE ICE BRIDGE
ETERNAL PRESS LINK:http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182
YOU TUBE BOOK TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g
By Kathryn Meyer Griffith
November 7, 2011

Eight years ago my husband, Russell, and I were celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and decided to return to quaint Mackinac Island in Michigan. We’d been there a few years before, but just for a quick afternoon stopover on our way home from visiting family in Wisconsin. We’d loved the Island for the few hours we’d been on it and promised ourselves we’d go there again someday. So when we began to plan for our anniversary vacation we traveled back for a longer stay of six days. I’d made reservations months ahead at the Iroquois Hotel on the water’s edge of Lake Huron and when the time came, after packing up everything we’d need, we jumped in the car and took off.
The Island doesn’t allow cars, only bicycles, horses and snowmobiles (in the winter) so we left our vehicle in a Mackinaw City parking lot on the mainland and boarded the ferry that would take us across the water to the Island, our luggage and two bicycles in tow. It was much cheaper to bring our own bikes instead of rent them there.
It was late August and the Island was beautiful. Crowded with colorful, fragrant flowers, clomping horses, whizzing bicycles and, of course, lots of tourists. Fudgies as they were called because they came, purchased and devoured so much of the little town’s fudge. 
The Iroquois Hotel was lovely with its bright pastel colors and friendly service; a fancy in-house restaurant and our room with its wall of windows facing the lake. A lake that to me was as large as an ocean…because it went on forever.
Our six days there were heaven. We rode our bikes, peddling around the horses, carriages, and equine taxis, around the eight-mile in circumference island and enjoyed the sights. The friendly people. The breathtaking views of water, boats and woods. The fudge. We sped along West Bluff Road to the ritzy Grand Hotel (made famous in the 1980 romantic time travel movie Somewhere in Time with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve), ate the scrumptious and lavish tourists’ brunch there and afterwards, so full we could barely ride our bicycles, we gawked at the magnificent Victorian mansions with their elaborate gardens lining Lake Shore Drive.
We visited Fort Mackinac and listened amusedly to people talk about the ghost soldier some had reported seeing when twilight began to fall. My husband, a photography buff, even slipped out of our hotel room in the middle of one foggy night to get artsy pictures with our new digital camera of the fort, hoping to catch the ghost. He captured no ghost, but plenty of stunning photographs.
One night we even sat, spellbound, as a Lake Huron thunderstorm pounded wildly at our wall of windows. It was as if we were gazing at a tumultuous ocean.
Then one day someone, in a cubbyhole of a local hamburger joint, over our lunch, said something about the ice bridge, as the islanders called it. During the dead of winter, when the straits froze over, it was a narrow path that stretched about four miles across the ice that separated Mackinac Island from the St. Ignace mainland. The locals would drive in old Christmas trees along the path to show the way, to show it was now safe. To them the ice bridge meant freedom to come and go for up to two months a year without paying ferryboat or airplane fees. To me it sparked an idea for my next book…what if someone crossed the ice bridge one wintry night and fell through the ice? And disappeared…maybe even died?
I started asking questions of the locals: Had someone ever fallen through the ice and perished? Turns out over the years, that yes, some people actually had. Fallen in. When the ice wasn’t firm enough. Or when they’d gone off the solid marked path. Or in a snowstorm. Some on snowmobiles. Some were saved, dragged out, and some had not been. Hmmm.
That’s all it took for the book to begin forming in my head. The rest of the trip I looked at the Island with different eyes. A writer’s eyes. Writer’s ears. I filed away the memories and the home-grown stories recounted to me. Though most of my earlier books were romantic horror, I’d written a couple of straight contemporary murder mysteries, Scraps of Paper and All Things Slip Away, a few years before and Avalon Books had published them. I’d quite enjoyed writing them.
So I thought I’d write another one with Mackinac Island and its real and fictional ghost tales as the background. I’d show the beauty of the island, changing of the seasons, what it was like in summer, fall and winter (tons of snow and ice), and describe the historical landmarks. I’d spotlight the quirky close-knit inhabitants and have the protagonist gather their imaginary spirit stories to put into the ghost book she was writing. I’d make the Island nearly a main character itself with its enigmas, water, snow, ice and fog.
The novel would be about a woman, Charlotte, jilted in love, coming back to heal and visit her poignant childhood playground, and her lonely Aunt Bess. She’d meet an Island cop, Matt, and together they’d not only fall in love but would embark on a great dangerous adventure together. There’d be a spunky old lady, Hannah, living next door and the four would be great friends. Until the old lady disappears on a winter’s night while crossing the ice bridge and the mystery would begin. Had Hannah been murdered by someone….how exactly…by whom…and why? The remainder of the book would be the unraveling of that mystery as the central characters try to keep from being killed themselves by the devious murderer behind Hannah’s death. I’d embed the Island’s so-called ghost tales throughout the book to spice up the story even more. So it’d be a romantic ghostly murder mystery. Ah, ha. I couldn’t wait to begin.
When my husband and I returned home, refreshed and happy, I started it right away, with the memories of lovely Mackinac still fresh in my mind. Gosh, how I’d loved that Island. A tiny piece of old-fashioned paradise. The book came easily to me. And so The Ice Bridge was born. Now with a stunning new cover by Dawne Dominique and edited by my publisher, Kim Richards Gilchrist, it’s out in the world for everyone to read and, I hope, enjoy.
Written this day of November 7, 2011 by the author Kathryn Meyer Griffith 
 

*********************************************************************
Kathryn Meyer Griffith has been writing for nearly forty years and has published 14 novels and 7 short stories since 1984 with Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press in the horror, romantic paranormal, suspense and murder mystery genres. 


About Kathryn Meyer Griffith...
2012 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS NOMINEE for her romantic horror novel
The Last Vampire-Revised Author’s Edition
Since childhood I’ve always been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. I began writing novels at 21 and have had fourteen (nine romantic horror, one historical romance, one romantic suspense, one romantic time travel and two murder mysteries) previous novels and eight short stories published from Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press.
I’ve been married to Russell for thirty-three years; have a son, James, and two grandchildren, Joshua and Caitlyn, and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois called Columbia, which is right across the JB Bridge from St. Louis, Mo. We have two quirky cats, ghost cat Sasha and live cat Cleo, and the four of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die.


                                                               ***
                                                                                                                                       
Novels and short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:

Evil Stalks the Night (Leisure, 1984; Damnation Books, July 2012)

The Heart of the Rose (Leisure, 1985; Eternal Press Author’s Revised Edition 2010) 

Blood Forge (Leisure, 1989; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition, February 2012)

Vampire Blood (Zebra, 1991; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition, July 2011) 

The Last Vampire (Zebra, 1992; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 2010) Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615722075 

Witches (Zebra, 1993; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out April 2011) 

The Nameless One (short story in 1993 Zebra Anthology Dark Seductions; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition, 2011) Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615723201

The Calling (Zebra, 1994; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition, 2011) 

Scraps of Paper (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2003)

All Things Slip Away (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2006)

Egyptian Heart (The Wild Rose Press, 2007; Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011) 
Eternal Press buy link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615724437  My self-made

Winter’s Journey (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011) Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615724604)
You Tube Book Trailer address: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FZYCs2DVhHg

The Ice Bridge (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011)

Don’t Look Back, Agnes novella & bonus short story: In This House (2008; ghostly romantic short story out; Eternal Press in January 2012)

BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons (Damnation Books 2010) 
Damnation Books buy link: httphttp://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615721313
You Tube self-made Book trailer with original song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0-U9c2Lwfo  

The Woman in Crimson (Damnation Books 2010) 
You Tube Book Trailer Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcRBvDI5G4Y

My Websites:
http://www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith (to see all my book trailers with original music by my singer/songwriter brother JS Meyer)
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/profile.php?id=1019954486
http://www.jacketflap.com/K.Griffith
http://www.shoutlife.com/kathrynmeyergriffith
http://www.goodreads.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith

E-mail me at rdgriff@htc.net 

****I love to hear from my readers.

My books (most out again from Damnation Books and Eternal Press): Evil Stalks the Night, The Heart of the Rose, Blood Forge, Vampire Blood, The Last Vampire, Witches, The Nameless One short story, The Calling, Scraps of Paper, All Things Slip Away, Egyptian Heart, Winter's Journey, The Ice Bridge, Don't Look Back, Agnes novella, In This House short story, BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons, The Woman in Crimson, The Guide to Writing Paranormal Fiction: Volume 1 (I did the Introduction) 



Sunday, January 8, 2012


She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers around her are sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying.
–    Thomas Moore

Excerpt from "Whisper of Yesterday" March 2012 in ePrint all formats, paperback September 2012. Secret Cravings Publishing.
He was in her room. She watched while his valet helped him off with his topcoat and muddy boots, and knelt to add more wood to the dying fire in the black marble fireplace. The man he called Bevan retired, taking his master’s boots with him.

She shivered as the kindling burst into flame and the fire danced higher in the grate. How she hated fire. Although she felt none of its heat, she still remembered its torturous bite as it stole the life from her body. She crossed her hands over her chest in a protective gesture and moved closer to the man standing by the bed. He was loosening the buttons of his white lawn shirt.

He looked so like her love, if she could have wept, she would have now. His hair was blue-black like Cai’s, but whereas Cai’s had fallen in a tangle of curls past his shoulders, this man’s was trimmed short and settled upon his pointed collar.

His features looked softer, less angular, yet he seemed to carry an aura of deep sadness that she could not explain. He pulled his neck cloth from around his throat and tossed it onto a nearby brocade chair. A cravat, she thought they called it. Fashion had changed much over the last two centuries, but she had stayed abreast of it, watching people move in and out over the years, hearing them talk.

She smiled. None ever stayed long. Though, in a strange sort of way she missed them.

It had been some years now since the castle had been occupied by anyone other than herself and Tom. Since Meredith. She had liked the Countess. Meredith had reminded her a lot of herself, with her red flowing hair and green eyes and fun-loving nature. They had held such lively conversations in the garden, and Meredith had been not one whit afraid of her. But as for her foolish little husband—Alyssa wished she had pulled the trigger on him herself, the day he killed her friend.

Then there was Wyndham, who had stopped for less than a day, looked over the castle and stables, and hastened away. She had not even had to put in an appearance to get rid of that one. Though Tom had told her he still put his hand out for the money from the tenants these past fifteen months. Not that there had been much, for those who had come before had bled the place dry, selling off anything that would bring a shiny penny.

They had not touched her room, though. She had seen to that. And now he was here, and she knew neither the reason nor rhyme, and did not care. For two hundred years she had waited. Knowing one day he would come. He might have a new name, but to her he would always be Cai de Morgan, her lover, her husband.

Her breath caught as he pulled off his shirt. By all that was holy, were she not already dead, she thought surely she would die for the want of him. She stepped closer. His shoulders were wide; his waist trim, his chest so smooth it almost gleamed in the light of the candle on the dresser. As he undid the first button of his buff skin-tight breeches, she could see where the faint line of black hair trailed down to his—she cut off her thoughts as his hand stilled. His midnight blue eyes stared right through her into the shadowy darkness of the corner.

“Is someone there?”

His deep rich voice was like fine velvet, the exact timbre of Cai’s. Her heart hurt. Although she knew it beat no more, it was uncanny how she could still feel the emotions of the living. She moved to the window as he continued to undress.

She would not watch. She was no voyeur. She had seen enough to know he was Cai, her Cai, that he had come back to her, and that she could never touch him again. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared down into the courtyard. The place she had died. She heard the whisper of cloth as his breeches hit the polished wooden floor, the rustle of bedclothes as he climbed into the four-poster. The bed she had shared with Cai on their wedding night—where they had pledged their love for eternity. And she felt grateful when a moment later the darkness descended, as it always did when she had stayed too long in the place of the living.



* * * *



Thursday, January 5, 2012

Hi, hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, or what ever holiday you may celebrate. I had my daughters and their partners with them, and my lovely man Philip, so I had a very busy but great Christmas!

Apart from that I don't know if you know, but I am also a potter,and studied art and design at a University in Australia. The dragon you see at the side is one of mine and is also an oil burner. One I made a couple of years ago.All my work is handmade, no molds involved and very intricate. I do not get as much time to dabble in my pottery now, but I do supply a small gallery not far from my home town in Wangaratta Australia, with some of my wares. Unfortunatly potty is not as popular as it used to be but I still sell enough to give me a bit of pocket money and cover my costs. My pottery is called Mythical Pots and I have been a potter for 30+years among other jobs.

I have had an interest in the fancyful and medievil since an early age, (I think I must have lived in the Middle Ages  in another life:-) anyway these things have always steered me on the path I have taken. As you may know, I write Fantasy 50-50 romance adult fantasy books, with lots of good romance and I hope you will agree, great story lines with lots of twists and turns. I have never recieved anything lower than a 4 out of five for my books, and mostly 4 1/2 to 5 stars.
I have branched into Ghost another one of my favorite subjects; Vampire novels, and add touches of witch and time travel and re-incarnation to a lot of my novels as well.

I am proud to anounce my upcoming Ghost, witch, re-incarnation Novel, which starts in modern day, goes to 1600's, then 1800's then back to modern day,  Whisper of Yesterday, will be out in March in ePrint and paperback in August. I did the cover myself, you can view it at the side of this page. Also the first book in my Tarlis series(all books can stand alone) title yet undecided, but it may be The Dragon and the Rose) will be out in April, with print in September.
Hope you will take a look at them as I will be posting excerpts very soon.

Just adding, I have been writing for 18years, and it has been my own choice to stay with the online publishers, as I think they do a fantastic job of covering genres, that NY and other top publishers would not be game enough to touch :-)