Tuesday Tease: The Prussian Dispatch

51wjGcKvEQL._SX326_BO1,204,203,200_David Nielson may not write romance, but he does weave the threads of mystery and crime seamlessly into his Sophie Rathenau series! Here’s a sample of the first in the historical crime series, The Prussian Dispatch.

***

With nothing in her purse, Sophie Rathenau can’t refuse work, even from a down-at-heel pimp. But tracing the woman who’s gone off with his document is a chancy business. A gang of Prussian maniacs are hunting for it too, as well as thugs from the shadowy Versailles Club, and a Polish countess desperate to preserve her country. Caught up in an international conspiracy, Sophie’s only weapons are her sardonic tongue and an old cavalry pistol. But it’ll take more than those to find the dispatch, keep a vengeful Chancellor at bay, and deal with a past that threatens to engulf her. “The Prussian Dispatch” is the first in a series of novels from the era of Mozart and Maria Theresia.

Sophie Rathenau remembers the evening before her wedding in 1760s Dresden, just after the Seven Years’ War.
Late sunlight glistens on the dome of Our Lady’s. Sapphire with azure spots, my dirndl is thin, but my blouse is puffed at the shoulders, blue stitching at the neck and sleeves.
We don’t have much of anything. Half the world is ruined. But the war is over.
I lounge in the glow, a silk wrap tight at my elbows. The stone bench has soaked up warmth all day. It tingles through the grit under my soles. I want to sit here forever. I want to watch the river flow, count the arches of the Augustus Bridge.
“Good of them to call it after you,” I murmur.
His head shifts near mine. I lean against his shoulder, my eyes half closed, fixed on two joined dragonflies.
“Madame,” he says, “your nose is in my ear.” There’s a scroll of gold embroidery at his burgundy collar, a modest ruff at his neck. After the uniform, he doesn’t care for a patterned jacket.
“By dose is itchy.” I rub it from side to side. That ear’s a bit deaf since he came back. I settle my chin beside it, my cheek on his hay-coloured stubble.
His fingers slip into my hair, easing strand from strand. “I had a retriever who laid her head on my shoulder like that.” His voice is as warm as the stone, but I don’t hear the Salzburg hinterland the way I used to. He’s been gone a while.
I growl. “And you’re supposed to be a diplomat.” His ear is neat, tucked-in. I run the tip of my tongue around its rim.
“Daun’s the diplomat. All I do is keep quiet and look fierce.”
I press my ribs against his, thinking I smell pine needles. I always do with him. “Stick to what you’re good at.” I know that Daun values his opinion on the clauses.
His lower lip juts out. Its fullness would seem petulant on another man, his chin fleshy. I think they round out a square and solid face. “You have a bodyguard, too, Fräulein Süssmayr. She’ll be wild.”
I grin. It was easy to lose Aurelia at the Holy Cross. By the time she missed me in the ruins, the shard of its tower stood between us. I walked in the Zwinger and to the Residence, till he came out with Daun and the others.
“I’ll make it up to her.”
My hands, one atop the other, don’t look large on my apron. My naked fingers, shades of sand in the evening sun, tug the knot at the centre of my waist. After tomorrow, I’ll tie it on the right.
The hairs at the tips of his eyebrows are light and fine, hatching into the crinkles around his eyes. “You don’t still want Saint Sophia?”
I smile. “That would be nice. But there’s only one Catholic church in Dresden. If we’re getting married, it has to be in there. And Saint Sophia doesn’t look like that.”
The Court Church is a cutter in full sail, docked on the river. Its tower soars like a mast. He takes hold of my shoulders and eases me around. “Nor that.”
The slim grey bell of Our Lady’s, ringed by four cupolas, rises over the gallery behind us. He shakes his head as he stares up. Behind his hazel eyes there’s a web of scaffolding, hoists, and blocks fitting high above. He loves knowing how things work. I feel, sometimes, he sees me the same way.
I rest my chin on my fists. “Do you ever think that one day people could stand here, gaze up, and not see that? That something so big, so graceful, could disappear?”
It’s a miracle the church is still standing. A lot of the city is rubble. The Prussians weren’t good for it.
He stretches his legs. Gravel scatters, and the sun gleams on the buttons at his knee.
“We’ll be long gone, if that happens.” His hands inch around my waist.
I caress his shoulder. “Careful with that arm.”
“You’ll be Sophie Rathenau.” He squeezes my ribs gently. “Tomorrow.”
The sun slips over the Bastion Sol. I link my wrists at his neck, drawing him to me, saying his name. A last glint laps under the bridge.
*****
Ex-lecturer and educational marketer David Neilson lives on the Rhine growing runner beans, courgettes, and kohlrabi, and writing Sophie Rathenau stories: a historical crime series based in eighteenth-century Vienna.
A personal tour of Sophie’s world, with images of many of the locations, historical characters, and objects in the novels, is available on Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2g2sasi
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Tuesday Tease: RedDress Two Wives

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Welcome back to Tuesday Tease! This week, I feature Native American contemporary romance author RA Winter’s book RedDress Two Wives.

 

Sarah’s beau left her. She didn’t excite him.
To reinvent herself, she travels to New York, where she meets John. A sexy voice on the phone.
What could go wrong?
Get caught with a vibrating purple…? Check.
Entertaining a threesome with a blow-up doll? Yep.
Geez, and let’s not forget the manure. Esh.

John enjoyed the color splashes, and the dining room table looked fit for a royal dinner. He could see himself here… nope. Don’t go there Johnny boy, she’ll leave soon. For now, it’s all fun for me.

John walked towards the bedroom, his mind on Sarah. She was always a good distraction from work.

Naay. Giddy up there li’l doggie. Ha!

Shut up! Damn.

He rounded the corner and stopped. Sarah sat on the stairs with a whip in hand, vibrator dancing and a…

Blow up doll?

“Ahh, zmy human toy hast arrived,” she said in a funky accent, her voice low and sensual. “Ursula und I zare here to conquer zhe human race and demand ze blood. Zerr blood.” She flicked her whip and jumped up, then marched around him. Her fingers raked down his arm, she grabbed her dangly and turned it on, grinning as it came to life. She unbuttoned her corset and flung it aside. “I’ve been told zzthat a human male can only last zso long before losing control.” Sarah ran her whip over John’s body. She stopped at his maleness and rub it against her. “Ursula is my second in command. She will join us to see who vill zlast zlonger.”

John snickered. He had no idea where this was going, but it sure was different, he’d give her that. Maybe she didn’t mind his stupidity.

She undid his pants, yanking them down toward his knees. Her lips followed her actions as she kissed his skin. His blood pressure skyrocketed and flew through John, pulsating his penis to life. She licked his thigh, stroking his penis as her eyes stared up at him. The dildo buzzed, filling the air with electricity.

“Argh!” A shrill scream ripped through the house, obliterating all fun and amusement.

“Mom, what are they doing?” A sweet girl’s voice asked, her innocence shattered. John turned, horrified to find a family glaring at him. Sarah paused with her mouth open, so close to the throbbing manhood, and gaped at the family. Her lips widened as her eyes darted between the family and John’s erection. Stunned, she balanced on her heels, frozen with horror.

The vibrator buzzed.

A young boy stood with hands on his hips, wearing a sailor t-shirt. His eyes grew as he stared at Sarah and bit his lips. A young girl, a little older stood beside him, her eyes roamed over John. Her brow furrowed. The dad grinned, then caught himself as his wife inhaled. The lady turned red, then purple as veins exploded on her skin.

The little boy inhaled and whispered to his mother, “Will mine turn purple when I’m older, Mommie?”

“Can I play with your dolly when you’re done?” The girl pointed to Ursula.

Sarah’s eyes moved back and forth. Penis, family, penis, family.

“Ahh, but Sissy,” The boy said, “It’s got a big hole in its mouth.”

“It’s a purple people eater,” the girl whispered. Her mother inhaled. “It’s got a one eye and one horn, like the song.” The mom grabbed both children then placed her hands over their eyes. She kicked her husband as he continued to stare at the naked pair.

Sarah inhaled.

The vibrator buzzed.

John grabbed his pants and hurried to pull them on. Prodded into action, Sarah clasped Ursula in front of her nakedness. Crouched low, she waddled towards the stairs, Ersula’s legs in front of her. John slid on the leg and fell headfirst into Sarah’s dildo. Sarah clung to Ursula, and down she went, the heel in an unconventional sandwich.

The husband’s eyes went dreamy. The boy jumped away from his mother and laughed.

“I want to see too,” his sister said. The mother clasped her tighter and dragged her toward her brother. She reached but he evaded her grasp, eyes wide with wonder.

“Wait, let me explain,” John yelled as he squashed Ursula. Her head ballooned under the pressure, her eyes expanded as her mouth widened into an O. John crawled off the ‘girls’, dragging Ursula with him.

The husband stared.

Buzzz.

The mother yelled, grabbed her children and pushed them towards the door. “I’m suing! My children will need therapy for life!”

The boy turned around, “Why does she have a purple pee-pee, isn’t she a girl?”

His mother screamed at him and ushered them towards the door.

The girl yelled, “But, Mommy, I want a dolly too!”

“Paul,” she snapped. She turned and glared at her husband. “Paul!”

“Oh, yes dear,” he said. He took one last, lingering look at Sarah’s body and her buzzing vibrator.

Sarah crouched lower and moaned. She reached for the dildo and fumbled with the switch. The motion increased and so did the sound. Sarah’s eyes widened as she stared at the family.

“Paul!”

“Just getting the details for the lawsuit. Don’t want to leave anything out, now do we?”

“Stop, don’t leave until I explain!” John pleaded to the retreating family.

“Shit!”

“Wait till everybody at school hears about this. A real live purple people eater!”

*****

RA Winter, began her writing career under her married name, writing genealogy books. However, her love for reading romance novels intruded in on her daily activities. She started writing “Little Sparrow” and fell in love with her characters and is writing many more books in the Romantic Western series, “Kiowa in Love”. Each one of Grandfather’s grandchildren will have their story told, as will Grandfather himself. RA spent many years traveling the world and has lived in many different countries. Turkey, Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, have all been called “home” at one time or another. Now you can find her quietly living in Pittsburgh, Pa

Tuesday Tease: Deal with the Devil

51bMhhFklTLAnyone can make a Deal with the Devil. But what would it take to break one? Becca Patterson weaves a twisty-turny short-story tale about exactly that!

Thirty years ago, Delia sold her soul to the devil. It worked out well for her, and she still has ten years left to enjoy the fame and wealth she got from the deal. Now he’s come back and wants to renegotiate.

With a deep breath she plunged into the pool and surfaced about halfway down. The sunny day had become shadowed, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The air felt frozen and not a single bird or critter broke the silence.

“You’re early,” she said before she saw the one responsible. “I still have ten years on my contract.”

“You have nine years, three hundred days, give or take a couple hours.” The man walked up to her in his always pristine suit that looked better than any designer had ever managed. They said only Jesus could walk on water. Maybe they were right, because the devil stood about an inch above the surface. “I remember how precise you were in that aspect of our contract, Delia Amber Rosso.”

The way he said her full name gave her the shivers. She swam to the side of the pool and levered herself out. “You’d think someone like you would heat the world rather than chill it. Aren’t you the one behind global warming?” Delia didn’t fear the devil. That contract bound him as tightly as it did her. She got luxury and fame for forty years then he got her soul. Not such a bad deal, but he couldn’t do anything to her for ten… no… nine years three hundred days. “Do you think you could tone it down a bit? I’m not dressed for hell freezing over.”

He scowled at her, but the warmth of the sun returned.

“So, since you can’t take me yet, what brings you around?” It never hurt to remind the devil of his limits. Those contracts of his were something to reckon with. She could attest to the power they had to grant wishes.

“I want to change our deal.” Delia stopped with the towel halfway to her hair. She had to have misheard that. The deal couldn’t change, he’d made that perfectly clear before she signed.

“No use begging or crying or trying to banish me by spiritual means.” He laughed that horrid nasally laugh. “Once you sign, that’s it. You get forty years to live with the benefits of a popular book then you come to me.”

“I said,” He pronounced the words with excessive precision, “I want to change our deal.”

“It’s a contract.” Delia turned to face him. “I’ve dealt with plenty of those over the past thirty years, even human made contracts are nearly impossible to break. You said it yourself that the contract couldn’t change.”

He laughed as he dropped into one of the lounge chairs. Still that horrible high pitched nasal laugh. “Precise as always. I did say that, because the thing you need to break a contract is an agreement to break the contract.”

*****

Sci-Fi and Fantasy are just two of Becca Patterson’s preferred genres. An author hailing from Minnesota, she has been writing for as long as she can remember, and takes much of her inspiration from the teenagers she works with. In her spare time, Becca enjoys making her husband laugh, and playing string with her three cats.

Website – https://becca.mreauowpublishing.com

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Becca-Patterson

Twitter – https://twitter.com/Mreauow

 

Sunday Sit-Down: Renee Grace Thompson

Author of all things romance, Renee Grace Thompson, um… graced me with her presence!

MG: Let’s start with an easy one! How do you relax?
RGT: Haha! Well, I suppose it’s obvious that I would read a book. That’s probably true for any writer. And I like to soak in a bubble bath in the dark with nothing but candle light. Other than that, I love hanging out and goofing off with my kids. They always make me happy.

MG: Where is your favorite place to write?
RGT: It probably sounds silly, but I like to sit on my bed and write. It’s the only place I can shut myself off from the rest of the world, and my family. I can close the door and feel comfy and cozy in my room. I have two big windows on adjoining walls that I can stare out into the woods when I’m struggling to find just the right word. I can’t really explain it, but my bedroom is my haven. It’s where I’m the most comfortable and the most creative.

MG: Have you ever written works in collaboration with other writers, and if so, why did you decide to collaborate and did it affect your sales?
RGT:

MG: Do you think that giving books away free works and why?
RGT: 
Sure. The reader would have nothing to lose, so they’d be more enticed to try it. If they don’t like it, they can always toss it aside. At least that’s how I feel about it. And then the reader who likes that writer’s style will be apt to seek out more work from that writer. To me, it’s a great tactic.

MG: What do your fans mean to you?
RGT: 
Having readers follow you because they enjoy your work is an incredible feeling. To me, that’s more exciting than any paycheck from the work. It means you’ve touched someone and made them laugh or cry, or maybe both. You’ve made a connection with them. And that’s pretty awesome.

***

Renee lives in the Midwest with her husband and four kids. She worked as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist for many years, but now manages her family-owned business. Her spare time is spent hovering over her laptop, trying to transcribe the romance novels playing out in her head. There are several going on at once though, so keeping up with them is hard. She hopes to have her first novel published sometime this winter.

***

Renee can be found:

On her Website
Twitter
And Facebook!

Tuesday Tease: Shear Luck

Shear LuckToday, I bring a tease from the entertainingly witty Sue Seabury’s newest book, Shear Luckwhich promises to be a fun read.

It’s sheer luck when the Queen of Coiffure books the wrong flight and meets Mr. Mane Attraction.

 

The mussed section of the gentleman’s careful comb-over is positively heartbreaking. Only a churl could refuse assistance. I use a subtle hand signal to indicate the problem. He gets it. Hair is smoothed; crisis averted. His cane is jutting out in the aisle and hits my sandal. The cane slides to the floor.  “Allow me.” I retrieve it, then place his rolling suitcase in the overhead bin for good measure.    “Thank you, erm, miss.” His squint seems mistrustful, although I use the utmost care. I hope I didn’t insult his manhood. He must be as old as my Grandpa Kimball. It’s only right for the able-bodied to lend a hand. “You’re welcome.”  On the way to my seat, I stow luggage for an over-processed permanent wave, a shaggy mullet, and a bowl cut. Is this flight going to Florida or 1982?   The thanks I receive may be lukewarm, but the universe repays me by placing the most gorgeous hair I have ever seen outside Fresno’s Sixth Annual Wig Convention in my row. A luscious black curtain that falls to his waist. Now that’s what I call serendipity.

***

Sue invented the internet, the selfie stick and sliced bread. When she’s not working on the solution for cold fusion and wireless power transfer, she makes up stories.

***

Blog: https://thetechnopeasant.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SueSeaburyAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SueSeabury

Tuesday Tease: Dragon Splendor (Immortal Dragons Book Three)

Okay, so I’ve read one of Ophelia’s dragon series. And wow, was it hot! The tease this week is from Dragon Splendor (Immortal Dragons Book Three), and promises everything I love about everything of hers I’ve already read!

Dragon Splendor

Nobody said finding your fated mates would mean an instant happily ever after. But for Aurum, an immortal gold dragon gifted with the power of psychic empathy, love has never been simple.

Night after night, she has endured prophetic dreams about her pair of lovers, but finding them brings her no respite—the beautiful satyr, Calder, abandons her upon their first meeting, forsaking love for revenge, while royal ursa Nicholas…

Well, he looks nothing like the dark-haired man Fate promised her. So why does she find him so irresistible?

 

As war between ancient allies darkens the horizon, Aurum realizes the long-lost prince may hold the key to solving both her and Calder’s problems, bringing together the fated mates for good—as long as he doesn’t get them all killed first.

 

Their Fated connection doesn’t make things easy. But for Aurum, Calder, and Nicholas, victory might just go hand in hand with surrender where matters of the heart are concerned.

 

Aurum waited as still as possible, debating whether to leave and fly solo, or make herself known and go sit beside her sister. She itched for some kind of physical activity to alleviate the ever-growing craving for sexual energy, and a good, long fly would do wonders.

Nicholas’s masculine musk reached her, and her mouth watered at the scent. He smelled fertile, his aroma promising an abundance of energy if she had any inclination to take him to bed.

She didn’t, of course. The heat pulsing between her thighs was just evidence of her waning power, which she was sure would last long enough for her to reach the male who still regularly haunted her dreams even after finally seeing him in the flesh.

Males, she reminded herself. There was a second male in her dreams besides Calder, but she had begun to doubt Fate’s message, because that second dark-haired man had yet to appear. Still, that he continued to be a regular presence in those nighttime visions gave her some hope. She’d first believed that he was an ursa male, though she was more inclined to think he might be another satyr with the way he kept appearing at the river’s edge in her dreams, and was more convinced than ever that getting into the Haven was how she would find him. Maybe Calder had a brother or friend who was fated to be her second mate? And if he was indeed an ursa, then passing through the Sanctuary would give her more opportunities to meet him.

Closing her eyes, she could remember the scent of that second male, as wet and fertile as Nicholas, but the difference was that the stranger from her dream was hers as much as Calder was, and he was most certainly dark-haired and green-eyed with golden, sun-drenched skin and an aura that drew her own energy to it like a seedling reaching for the sun.

The thoughts made her cravings even stronger and she shifted on her seat, squeezing her thighs together to ease a bit of the pressure in her core.

Through the branches, she saw Nicholas rake his fingers through his hair and turn his head slightly, lifting his chin and inhaling as though savoring his freedom.

In a low, deep voice, he said, “I know you’re there, Goldilocks. And I’m guessing it isn’t watching your brothers that has you so worked up. Do you know you smell like sunshine when you’re excited? It’s the oddest thing, because I only pick that up from you. Your sister’s not shy, but she’s also nowhere near as worked up whenever I’m around her. Not at all, in fact.”

Aurum tensed, irritated by the fact that he’d sensed her presence. She shouldn’t have been surprised—he was an ursa prince, after all, being the firstborn son of Maia Stonetree. She’d just rather not have to have a conversation with him again after their failed first interaction.

“It isn’t you, I assure you,” she said. “My sister and I simply have different thresholds …”

His booming laugh stopped her and her eyes widened as he turned. His pale silver gaze bored into her as he stalked over, ignoring the scratch of branches against his bare chest. He was uncomfortably close when he bent over, his nose millimeters from hers. She leaned back, scooting as far as she could, her heart pounding. He inhaled again and grinned.

“Sunshine, Goldilocks. I bet if I spread your thighs, light would pour out from between them the same way water gushes from Gaia’s Source. Yet you seem intent on locking it up for a man who abandoned you.”

“Us …” Aurum whispered, barely able to get the word out past the tightness in her throat. Nicholas inundated her senses, heat pouring off him in waves along with that unbearably delicious aroma. He leaned closer to her, hands braced on either side of her thighs.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of that rushing river between your legs.”

“He abandoned us, Nicholas. You said so yourself.”

His jaw clenched and his irreverent, playful look vanished. “No … for him to have abandoned me, I’d have had to belong to him. But I don’t. You’re the one who does. Unlike you, I am free, for the first time in my life. Free to choose …”

He trailed off, and the flecks of green in his eyes seemed to burn with inner light, like his irises were a pair of opals filled with verdant fire. He swallowed thickly and swept his gaze over her again before shaking his head as if to clear it. He stepped back so abruptly, Aurum blinked in surprise. His eyes widened for a second, then he turned and crashed away through the brush, not even caring that there was an easy path not two steps away.

Aurum sat staring after him, her mouth agape and her pulse racing in her throat. She stood on wobbly legs, her vision swimming for a moment before she made her way out onto the sparring platform where her brothers and sister had stopped what they were doing to stare off in the direction of the ruckus of the huge ursa’s retreat.

“What the fuck is up with him?” Gavra asked. “Thought he still had a few rounds left in him. He has more energy than Kris on a good day.”

“I don’t know and don’t care,” Aurum said. “I need to fly. Are you three with me?” She spread her arms out and called on her powers to shift. Without waiting for the others, she launched herself into the air, aiming directly for the giant, glowing orb in the sky.

Sunshine, Goldilocks.

She closed her eyes and let the winds buoy her as she soared into the light. Nicholas’s voice reverberated in her ear, sending a shiver through her entire body, though her core heated even more. She inhaled the cold wind, seeking to flush the scent of him out of her head and the lust out of her body.

He wasn’t the one. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

***
Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.

If you’d like to receive regular updates on Ophelia’s publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list: http://opheliabell.com/subscribe/

***

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Sunday Sit-Down: R.A. Winter

This week, I sat down with well-traveled romance author R.A. Winter.  Let’s get down to it, shall we?

MG: Which famous person, living or dead would you like to meet and why?
RAW: Hmm. There are so many historical people that I would love to meet. From a caveman, a Neanderthal, Cleopatra, Methuselah, a ruler of Anchor Watt, a ruler of Teotihuacan, DaVinci, George Washington, Christopher Forts (my gggrandfather), Tecumsah, Sitting Bull, a slave, an alien (If they exist), all the way to Clint Eastwood and Johnny Depp. Everyone, no matter whether they were famous or not has a story to tell.
Yeah, I have lots of interest. But, I’d like to know about each of their lives, their thoughts and actions. I’ve always hoped and dreamed that when I die that I’d be able to ‘see’ history from the beginning. I mean, you have eternity, right? What could be better than reliving history? Chose and average Joe, follow him through life. See his choices or lack there of and their consequences.
Ok, sounds odd, I know. But, people interest me and there are so many fascinating things about history that we don’t know about.

MG: Do you ever get Writer’s Block, and do you have any tips for getting through it?
RAW: Walk away for a while and read other works. I’ve also finished a round on Bootcamp and joined the Ubergroup on Scribophile. These groups force you to write and putting down words on paper, no matter how bad it is, it can give you an idea on how to continue.
Sometimes I’ll work on the cover. Once you have a cover to your work, it adds an element of excitement. It pushes you to finish.

MG: Do you write on a typewriter, computer, dictate or longhand?
RAW: Computer and longhand. I keep a pad by my bed and write in the dark as ideas come to me. Some of my best one-liners have come at 4 am!

MG: Would you or do you use a PR agency?
RAW: I’ve never used one. Honestly, the thought never crossed my mind.

MG: Do you have any advice for other authors on how to market their books?
RAW: Contact reviewers and bloggers in your genre. Look up books similar to your own and ask them for reviews in exchange for a free copy. I also love onlinebookclub.org but they no longer offer free reviews but they do have a large following. Another resource is bookvetter.com. There you have to read five or six books to ‘unlock’ your reviews which are then posted on Goodreads. Another great place is ReadersGazette.com. They tweet your books for you! Wonderful site. Also, if you are doing a promo try AskDavid.com. Wonderful site and they had a large following too.

MG: That’s all the time we have for today! Thanks for sitting down with me today, R.A.!

***

RA 1RA Winter, began her writing career under her married name, writing genealogy books. However, her love for reading romance novels intruded in on her daily activities. She started writing “Little Sparrow” and fell in love with her characters and is writing many more books in the Romantic Western series, ” A Kiowa in Love”. Each one of Grandfather’s grandchildren will have their story told, as will Grandfather himself.RA 2

RA spent many years travelling the world and has lived in many different countries. Turkey, Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, have all been called “home” at one time or another. She’s even been employed as a Federal Agent. Now you can find her quietly living in Pittsburgh, Pa, with her husband, writing her next novel.

https://wordpress.com/post/rawinterwriter.wordpress.com/289
amazon.com/author/bywinter

Sunday Sit-Down: Sue Seabury

Sue 04Another fantastic author interview! This week, I feature Sue Seabury. When she’s not making up stories, she’s working to solve the problems of cold fusion, wireless power transfer, and chocolate that imparts all necessary nutrition. She also has a new book coming out in the next couple weeks, called Shear Luck, about a hair dresser who hopped a plane to the wrong Juneau, and a sexy Tlingit Indian named Mario. Continue reading “Sunday Sit-Down: Sue Seabury”

Sunday Sit-Down: JR Creaden

Another author interview today! This week, I talked with JR Creaden, a YA/SF author.

MG: Who was your favorite author as a child? Do they influence your storytelling now? Continue reading “Sunday Sit-Down: JR Creaden”

Sunday Sit-down: Imogen Keeper

It’s that time again! This week, I sat down with Imogen ImmyKeeper, author of The Tribe Warrior
series.

MG: Welcome, Immy! I’m going to start with a super hard question. What’s your least favorite part about writing?

IK: Proofreading. I just can’t see my mistakes. Nothing helps. I see what I expect to see, not what is actually there. So the process is painful and tedious.

MG: You won’t get an argument from me on that one – I’m the same way. Now for the flip-side. What’s your favorite part of writing?

IK: The zone! It’s like a high. I’ve felt it with anything creative that I’ve ever done… and by creative I mean the act of creating something on a higher plane, not just art and literature. Sports counts. I’ve felt it with the perfect golf swing, or tennis game. Cooking the perfect meal works. Anything I do that I really enjoy where my focus aligns with my goals, and my whole brain is activated on a single a wavelength. It’s just right. I love that high. The world falls away, my fingers move, I probably look totally insane, but for that length of time, I am my character. It’s amazing.

MG: The Zone is a good place to be while doing any project. I know you’re an Indie author – what made you decide to go that route?

Immy 02IK: Well, I had a brief stint with the now defunct Ellora’s Cave. While there are certainly more reputable, and more thorough publishing houses out there, I had a good mouthful of what it would be like to go the traditional route… and honestly, not that different. Traditional publishing houses take the bulk of the profit and they do the easy part. Hiring an editor and getting a cover is just the icing on the cake. That’s the fun stuff. The marketing is the hard stuff, and, mostly, they don’t help with that. So, it just felt like, if I was going to have to stand on the corner of facebook and twitter, selling my wares, I’d rather do it for my own profit, rather than someone elses. And man, seriously, the cover I picked out is so much better than the one they did. That alone made it worth it.

MG: Oh my. That sounds like a good reason to go Indie. How do you come up with your ideas.

IK: I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. And it seems to depend on the idea. Some plot
points take more work than others. Some characters are more difficult than others. Tam and Nissa’s story was very organic for me. It just happened, and the characters sometimes did things, or even said things that surprised me, so I had to go in and backfill some of their emotional journey, but for the most part, it just happened. Breaking took a little more forethought. Those characters were both far more inhibited, and I pushed myself with that story.

MG: Yeah, that sounds like the way my muses work as well. What are you working on now?

IK: The third book in my series, The Taming, is about a prissy woman who ends up stuck with a pretty tough man who comes from an enemy tribe. When the story starts, they hate each other. Truly loath one another. I’ve never written anything like it before, and it’s been a total blast.

MG: Ooh! Sounds intrigueing! I like to see how the hate gives way to tolerance gives way to love. It’s always interesting to see the way it develops. That’s all for this week, folks! And thank you, Immy, for sitting down with me this week!

IK: Thanks, Milli!

*****

Hi! Call me Immy! I’ve got a stupidImmy 03-rampant
imagination for all things silly, sexy and
sordid. It’s hard to keep it all in, so I write down my day-dreams and my night-dreams into the form of big alpha heroes and the ladies who love them.

Immy can be found on her website: www.imogenkeeper.com

on Twitter

and on Facebook!