Ginger Simpson's "Dishin' It Out"

Welcome, Amy McCorkle

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 23:00:05 PST

When deciding what to write about on Miss Ginger’s blog I got an email in my box. It’s the kind of email every writer dreads/anticipates. It’s the all important answer to the query letter you sent out weeks or months ago depending on how swamped the publisher is with submissions at that time. And your day can be made or broken these four little words we accept/we reject. And sometimes there’s that nasty little revise and resubmit clause.

There are some publishers who are better at it than others. And in the age of the e-reader there is a bigger chance for us all to be accepted but there is also the same challenge of having our best foot forward. Quality over quantity and finding that all important balance that will keep you from going insane while waiting for the ANSWER you so desperately desire.

I’m thirty-six years old and I’ve been writing since I was five years old. Does that make me an expert no, it does, however, qualify me to answer a few questions. Does it get any easier? That depends on what you mean by easier. If you mean your craft gets better, and it increases your odds of finding a home for your work, well then yes it does. If you mean does it guarantee publication, well of course it doesn’t.

I’m not trying to discourage you. I wrote for twenty-five years before being offered a legitimate contract from a legitimate house. For some people it’s not as long, for others it’s even longer. But there are two things I know for sure, you have to believe with everything that’s in you that it’s going to happen. Because if you don’t no one else will. Need someone to hold your hand and tell you everything’s going to be alright? I’m probably not the person you want to talk to because I like to be happy. And when you’ve worked your butt off as I have and had the nerve to submit and receive more rejections than accepts yeah I’m thinking I don’t want anyone to spoil my good mood. But here’s the thing I always believed it was going to happen because I never stopped writing.

That’s the second thing. You have to write. You have to produce. You have to submit to ever have a shot. You may choose to self-publish, that’s perfectly legitimate too. I just wanted something different.

So I’m proud to announce the release of my second book, Another Way To Die through MuseItUp Publishing. The following is an excerpt.

Excerpt:

I felt his hand tapping on my face and heard his voice coming from what seemed like a million miles away. “Almira. Almira, wake up.”

My eyes slid open for a moment and I saw him as he was. Older, stronger, maybe crazier for helping me now than he had been then. My eyes drifted closed. I was back in the past with him carrying me out of my father’s estate and into his waiting car. I was so doped up on pills and heroin at the time I couldn’t think beyond ‘help me get out of here.’

Then Daniel’s voice called again, this time from the present day. “Don’t you dare die on me! Not now. Not after all of this.”

My eyes opened again, and he was standing over me. I managed to scan the room and saw a beautiful woman preparing to work on me.

“If you fail her, I’ll come looking for you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Danny. You know I do good work. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have called me in on this.”

I gazed up at Daniel and said raggedly, “Yeah, Daniel, don’t be so dramatic.”

His head jerked downward and he took my hand; images of our brief time together flooded me: him carrying me… throwing me in the shower... of us naked in the shower, making love. Suddenly I felt hot all over—well, as hot as can be under the circumstances.

“Daniel, don’t go…” I murmured. Daniel let go and pulled up a chair, lighting a cigarette.

“I’m giving you something for the pain but it’s still going to hurt. Put that out,” Jasmine said as she worked over me, digging out the bullets; the pain was mind numbing. Tears rolled down my cheeks as he took my hand again and I crushed it.

With each dig into my body to retrieve those goddamn bullets, memories flooded my head. The night Daniel and I spent together surfaced. Suddenly I felt at peace…

“I’m losing her, Daniel.” Jasmine’s voice sounded like a faint echo.

“Stay with me, kiddo, stay with me.”

I opened my eyes but I wasn’t in the present. I was in another time, another place. I felt hands pressing down on my chest. Air rushed down into my lungs.

“Save her damn it!” Danny’s voice was so like it had been all those years ago.

I could see us that night as we made love. Hear his voice. “You don’t know what kind of man I am,” he’d said.

I’d known exactly what kind of man he was then.

His mouth captured mine. His air breathed life into me, desperately pulling me back from the brink.

I opened my eyes, coughing and sucking in air as he held onto my face, his gaze burning into me, reminding me of why I had slept with him in the first place. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said. “Do you understand me?”

“Is she gone?”

He looked up toward Jasmine. “No.”

“Then get her the hell out of here because I don’t trust her.”

“Ungrateful bitch.”

Daniel leaned back. Before he could stop me, my hand shot up and I nailed her in the mouth with a hard sucker punch.

“Crazy—”

Daniel stood up. “I suggest you choose your next words very carefully,” he warned her.

My eyes slid shut. I heard a door slam, and before I lost consciousness completely, I heard a faint whisper. “This time I refuse to let you go.”

About the Author:

Born and raised in the Bluegrass State of Kentucky, Amy roots for her Wildcats and spends her time trolling bookshops and movie theaters.

https://www.amazon.com/author/amymccorkle

More Hot Swinging Fantasies!

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 23:00:03 PST

Not from Ginger: For those who don't know, Adriana Kraft consists of a husband and wife writing duo, and what they write is pretty HOT! So, if you're the type who "gets burned" when you read something spicier than normal, then you might want to put on some "hot mitts" before you venture further. As for me, I love Adriana's posts, and I'm delving in. *smile*

***

My husband and I write erotic romance together under the pen name Adriana Kraft to fuel our readers’ fantasies. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have more than one pair of hands sweetly caressing you all over? How about two tongues, in just the right places? Our Swinging Game series at Extasy Books is designed to take you there!

Book Eight in the series, Pushing the Limits, was released last week and is available at Extasy Books and Amazon. We’ve been writing the enticing adventures of this Baby Boomer couple for nearly three years now – Brett and Jenifer Andrews constantly surprise us, not only with what they’re willing to try next, but with how much fun they’re having and how it’s heating up their sex life when just the two of them are together.

Given what they just came up with, we’re a little worried about them, though. Some couples in the lifestyle would give anything to have a ‘Unicorn’ – a single female who wants a committed threesome with an existing couple. At the end of book seven, Jen and Brett think they’ve found one – and this is the book where she arrives. All begins well and the threesome shares some incredible, sensual sizzling sex. But Jen is instantly infatuated and invited their new friend to stay for the entire summer. Brett wonders what the limit will be – so do we, and so will our readers!

Here’s a blurb and an excerpt:

BLURB Pushing the Limits Their new Unicorn Sarah Creston may be out of town, but that doesn’t stop Jen and Brett Andrews from burning up the wires with some scorching three-way phone sex. While they’re waiting for Sarah, Ryan eagerly pursues Brett for some hot male action, followed by a house party that challenges Jen and Brett’s stereotypes. Sarah finally arrives, exhausted and drained from weeks spent helping her aging parents. Jen and Brett provide total tender care for three days—but when Jen invites Sarah to move in for the whole summer, Brett asks himself, is there a limit?

EXCERPT For an excerpt, I thought we’d drop in on Jen and Brett at their best – having a date night, just the two of them:

“This feels so decadent.” Jen felt like purring for her man. So far, so good. Together, they’d set the stage. Wearing robes, they sat side by side on the living room couch nibbling on grapes, strawberries, cheeses and sausages. It was their prelude to what she hoped would be a spectacular evening of lovemaking. So far they’d only made love with their eyes, feasting on each other as well as on the light meal.

“It was an excellent idea to be in the living room tonight,” Brett said, popping a grape into his mouth. “We seldom play here. Some, but seldom.”

“Maybe we should reserve it for ourselves only. It’s already getting warm in here.” Jen untied the sash of her robe and let it fall away. She appreciated Brett’s immediate intake of breath. “Donna and I picked out this outfit. I didn’t want to show you until a special moment.”

Brett smacked his lips. “This is definitely a special moment. You couldn’t be more naked, naked.”

“Well, a little,” Jen countered, shifting her weight to give him an even better view of the shear lace top. Her taut nipples poked forward, aching to be touched. “You like it?”

“You know I do.” To her delight, Brett’s voice had turned husky. He reached for her.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Don’t you want to see the bottoms?” He nodded and she parted the robe further.

You can find Pushing the Limits at these links:

Buy at Extasy: http://www.extasybooks.com/index.php?route=product/product&path=103&product_id=3489

Buy at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Pushing-the-Limits-ebook/dp/B0070PIU4Q/ref=sr_1_33?ie=UTF8&qid=1327369553&sr=8-33

And of course I’m available at the following links – a word of warning: My website is currently being overhauled by the talented Lucy Felthouse, so the standard url will lead you to an “under construction” sign. Here’s the link that will work until we go live with the new one, in about a month (I hope!):

WEBSITE AND BLOG

http://adrianakraft.wordpress.com/

http://adrianakraft.wordpress.com/blog/

ELSEWHERE ON THE WEB:

FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/people/Adriana-Kraft/100001944980679

Twitter http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

Midnight Seductions http://midnightseductionsauthors.blogspot.com/

Sapphic Planet: http://www.sapphicplanet.com

Newsletter http://groups.yahoo.com/group/adrianakraftnewsletter/

Adriana’s Author Pages at Amazon.com and All Romance Ebooks

Kathryn Meyer Griffith Warns Don't Look Back...

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 23:00:00 PST

The Story Behind Don't Look Back, Agnes and In This House
More Backstories
By Kathryn Meyer Griffith

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3q9rZryFMo
Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=422

The older I get, the more I like to reminisce and write about what I’m going through at any particular time. I guess it’s an age thing. So many of my stories and novels come about because of what I’m actually experiencing in my real life at the time. Not all, but some.
But my novella, Don't Look Back, Agnes is definitely one such story.
At the end of 1998 my beloved father, the very heart (along with my mother’s mother, Grandmother Fehrt, who was also much loved) of my large family, passed away after a short but heartbreaking battle with lung cancer. He’d been a cigarette smoker his whole life so it wasn’t a complete shock that it ended up killing him. Yet the suddenness and the swiftness of his departure devastated my six siblings, my mother, grandmother, and me. It was a very dark time for us.
To complicate the matter, my brothers and sisters, myself included, were in our forties and working hard at our lives, our families and jobs, but my grandmother and mother were left living alone together and neither one drove; so both needed constant care and attention. My grandmother was in her eighties and my mother in her late sixties; though my grandmother was fairly healthy (she was spunky lady, with a zest for life, who’d emigrated from Austria as a child) my mother was already in a wheelchair, crippled from bad ankle surgeries, debilitating osteoarthritis and a host of heart related problems.
The first thing the family had to do was move them into town, nearer to some of us, and out of the country where they’d been living in the new sprawling house my father had built them just the year before. It was too hard caring for them way out there and the house was too big, too expensive. Boy, that was fun. They had so much stuff, so many memories to dispose of and cry over. We settled them in a small ranch house in town and life went on. Or tried to.
Now, I loved my mother and grandmother dearly but taking care of them was often difficult. Each needed concentrated care, love, endless visits to the doctor, prescriptions fulfilled and, as time went on, housekeeping and grocery shopping help–and finally, someone to do their bills, my mother becoming too disoriented and sick to any longer do any of those chores. For a long time, years, my grandmother stepped up, even at her age, and became my mother’s constant nurse and helper. Their two Social Security checks combined were just enough for them to live on. It was a thin line they had to tread and we tried to help them every step of the way.
So, with love, sometimes desperation, and some bickering every so often between us siblings as to who would do what when, we took care of them and their whole household, their house. There were many late night runs to hospital emergency rooms, or long stays, and rehab centers for my mother, who steadily over the next nine years grew worse. By the end of 2005 it seemed we were always at the hospital with mom or grandma. My mom had her heart troubles, high blood pressure and medication problems, and my grandmother broke her hip. One thing after another. It was exhausting at times. Who’d ever think two sick old ladies could need so much care?
Then my grandmother got really ill and was rushed to the hospital. She needed emergency surgery and afterwards was in intensive care for a month…never recovered…then sadly joined our grandfather in the next life. We were all so broken hearted.
That left our mother, all alone, without enough money to live on (her Social Security meager; no savings), and unable to care for herself or her three cats. Born an only child, she was a demanding sort of woman, almost childlike in her unending need for attention and devotion. She was terrified of going to a nursing home so the family did what we could to keep her in her own home as long as possible. My brother got her a reverse mortgage on her house and we all chipped in financially whenever and however we could. We fought the good fight but there came a day where mom got so sick, was rushed to the hospital so often, needed so much constant supervision, that my siblings and I had to admit defeat…mom had to go into a nursing home or one of us had to move in with her, which wasn’t feasible. We were married with families.
So a nursing home it was. We picked out a newly opened one in town, the nicest we could find, and the next time mom got sick we moved her into it for her recovery. Then told her the truth. The house was up for sale and the cats had been placed in new homes. I even took one, Patches (the cat in the story), because it was old and no one wanted her. My husband and I already had two cats but it was something I had to do…for mom. She really loved that cat as she’d really loved her home. But poor Patches, probably pining for her mistress and her old life, only lasted five months. I lied to my mother for months afterwards, afraid to tell her that the old cat had died (mom had always said that when Patches died, she’d die) and it broke my heart when I finally had to tell her. Mom had come to our house for a family Thanksgiving and I couldn’t hide the fact that Patches was no longer there. Oh, that was hard. Telling her.
If anyone has ever put a parent or relative into a nursing home, they know the heartbreak it causes all around. My mother was inconsolable and my guilt was awful. But, as sick as mom had become, with so many prescriptions each day, hospital visits, and how most days she couldn’t even get out of bed or get to the bathroom, clean or feed herself…we had no choice. She stayed in that nursing home – although it was a bright cheery place with kind people running it – until she died two years later. The hardest two years of my life. I visited her often, shopped for her and kept her company. Decorated her room so it looked like a home. Brought her special lunches and little gifts. Fancy quilts and stuffed cats. It still broke my heart.
I began writing the novella, Don’t Look Back, Agnes, while she was there. A ghost story centered around a young woman who’s forced by grim circumstances into returning to her haunted, and deadly, childhood home because her mother is ill in a nursing home and needs her. Looking back now, I can see it was also my way of dealing with the nursing home guilt…of wishing for a different ending to mom’s life than what had occurred. Writing the story was my therapy. I cried all my sorrow out into those words and prayed to be forgiven for putting my mother into such a place.
Even In This House, the bonus short story included because it’s also a ghostly tale, deals with old age and the passing of all a person (or a couple in this instance) ever knew or loved as time and their lives slip away, as it must always do. At the same time I was writing the Agnes story I read an article in the newspaper about this old man who was the last resident of a neighborhood that had been systematically bought out and emptied by an iron smelter plant. He was the last one living there in the last house. He spoke of his loneliness since his wife had died; about her. Their past. It sparked the idea for In This House. Both stories deal with responsibility, sacrifice and…love. Love for a mate, for an aging parent, children, and a way of life or the loss of one’s independence that we all in the end have to relinquish in one way or another. Life’s sorrows faced with a brave smile to cover the tears.
I hope the two stories help anyone going through what I was going through in those difficult years. If they do, then the words have done their job.
Written by the author Kathryn Meyer Griffith this nineteenth day of December 2011
****
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)

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)

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615722327

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

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

Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615724253

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

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZU77j_q4S8

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

Damnation Books Buy Link:http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615723553

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)

Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615725007

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

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cogCNYKzPqc

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)

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g

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

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3q9rZryFMo

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=422

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)

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615721979

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.bebo.com/kathrynmeyerG
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1019954486

http://www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffith

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

http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com/profile/KathrynMeyerGriffith

http://romancebookjunction.ning.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) ***

Six Sentence Sunday - More Sisters in Time

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 20:57:41 PST

Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. If you click on the hyper-link, you'll find a whole passel of authors who share an exciting six with you every week.

Last week's six concerned Taylor, (Sisters in Time) the feisty, female attorney from the 20th century who awakens and finds herself in a room someone might find on a dude-ranch. Actually, she's traveled back in time to Denver territory, and is on the Rocking C Ranch in the 1800s. She's in possession of her mental faculties, but she's in Mariah's body, and of course, you saw her reaction to Frank when he insisted she was his wife.

Continuing on, Mariah is awake in a modern-day hospital in Denver, and a strange man sits by her bed, calls her darling, and is totally blind-sided when she insists she isn't who he believes her to be.

My Six:

My name is Mariah Cassidy.”

She seemed so serious; it worried him. “Fine, sweetheart. Whatever you say. You rest and I’ll go get the nurse or a doctor or…somebody.”

He cast a final confused look over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

****

I hope you'll continue to join me as we learn more about Sisters in Time, available on Amazon or at Eternal Press.

Six Sentence Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 23:00:04 PST

Welcome to SSS again. I'm continuing with another six from my time-travel with an historical twist, Sisters in Time. In this scene, Taylor has just awaken in Mariah's bedroom, in the late 1800s. The last thing she recalls is driving her Lexus to work in downtown Denver, fiddling with the radio to quell the onset of static, and then hearing a crunch of metal. She's bruised, bandaged and dizzy, and dealing with a strange man who insists she's his wife, and she's losing patience with him. He's trying to refresh her memory my mentioning their daughter, Callie.

Taylor winced when she squared her shoulders. She massaged her temples with her fingertips. “Look, Frank, or whatever your name is. I don’t know any Callie, and I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it’s not working. Don’t piss me off. Either call me a taxi or bring me the damn phone!”

Tune in next week for Frank's reaction. :)

New Year, Old Problems

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 09:31:35 PST

I had hoped 2012 would be a better year than last. However, when my son dropped the "D" word on his wife right after the holidays, my husband left to go to orientation for a new OTR truck-driving job, and I stepped out of bed onto a soggy carpet, I realized I was in for another 365 day of the same challenges. I called hubby home just in time to have the electricity fail downstairs. So, now in addition to being wet, it's also dark. It's said God doesn't give us more than we can handle, but sometimes, I wonder. Like my sister often grumbles...if life is a test, give me an F and move on.

So because my electricity is flashing on and off as hubby works on it, I'm recycling a blog I did for my friend Heather Haven's site earlier this month. I hope you don't mind. Hey...they do reruns on TV, why not blogs?

Resolutions, Smezolutions by Ginger Simpson

First, I’d like to thank Heather for allowing me to join the crew blogging on her site this month. Finding her friendship has been one of the highlights of becoming a Muse author, and I absolutely love her writing. BTW, I received no compensation for my endorsement of her. (smile)

Back to why I’m here. Some are probably blogging about the goals or resolutions they’ve made for 2012. That’s one habit I avoid since it never works for me. I simply set myself up to fail, then feel horrid about it. Take for instance the year I resolved not to eat candy. I was trying to lose weight of course and figured eliminating sweets would be most helpful. After two weeks of success, then failing when someone offered me a piece of See’s candy, I feel into a funk and went on an eating spree. After I came out of my sugar-induced coma, I’d gained seven pounds. So, you see why I don’t make resolutions. Oh shucks, maybe I’ll be a sport and try five this year I’m pretty sure I can I keep.

1. Don’t adopt a cat this year. (I dislike cats…or they dislike me.)

2. Turn down any offers to be a runway model. (Obviously, this shouldn’t be too tough.)

3. Don’t win the lottery. (I’m Caucasian and don’t buy tickets…this is a snap.)

4. Absolutely refuse contracts to race for Nascar. (Reasons too many to list.)

5. Don’t apply to be on Survivor. (I go crazy over one mosquito bite and hate bugs of any kind.)

Whew, that was hard, but feel certain I won’t break any of these resolutions. If I should, I’m pretty sure you’ll immediately be notified in newspaper headlines that might read something like this:

“Cat owner mauled to death after SPCA adoption.”

“Oldest and Fattest Woman to Stroll the Runway Makes Guinness Book of World Records.”

“White Woman Wins Lottery After Failing to Purchase a Ticket. Officials Suspicious.”

“Driver of Depends Car Causes Catastrophic Collision.”

“Oldest Survivor Player Airlifted to Mainland in Strait Jacket After Attacking Jeff Probst.”

Whew, I feel so much better since I’ve joined others who resolve to avoid pitfalls this year. Now, I can concentrate on my writing and either win the Nobel Peace Prize or write a NY Times best-selling novel. I’ve never been one to think outside the box.
****

I'll be back when everything is fixed. Where's my Xanax?

Contests - Good, Bad or Ugly?

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 23:00:03 PST

Now that the Preditor & Editor Poll has concluded, we can all take a deep breath and enjoy not being hounded every five minutes by someone asking you to "vote for my book." Years ago, as a new author, I was excited when someone nominated my debut novel. To see my first work listed among a myriad of other books made me feel accomplished...more so than just being published, until I found out that people were self-nominating. You didn't have to rate any type of recognition for having written a profound novel or compelling read, and votes could be commanded, begged, and even stolen if you count that some people thought it was all right to vote under more than one email account. If I recall correctly, I didn't finish very high in the rankings, but then as a new author, I didn't know many people so I couldn't compete in the popularity contest that P&E became. I voted only in categories I felt qualified for my vote...author's page, publisher, editor, cover artist. I didn't feel it was fair to vote for a book I hadn't even read.

The pattern has continued each year, and I've watched as the number of entrants dwindle. There used to be four times the amount of authors entered and even more emails flying around, soliciting votes. I was one who sent them...even nominated myself one year. I didn't win, but would I have been proud of being honored if I had? The top ten winners in each category proudly displayed their badges on their websites, noting an honorable accomplihsment. Was it? Or had they just let the world know that they spent countless hours hawking votes and were awarded for having the most convincing plea or the largest amount of friends? Is that what most contests have become...trailer awards, cover awards, best book review. How often do you see emails where people are asking for your support? Do you give it?

Even peer reviews have come under scrutiny. The "liking" and "tagging" pleas for books on Amazon, along with reviews written by friends of the authors, have caused those who are purely readers to question how valid a review given by another author can be. I've written a few reviews on Amazon for books I've read, but I admit to tagging and liking some I haven't. Is that honest?

This year, being part of a new publisher with tons of fledgling authors, the loop was flooded with excitement and endless scrolls of "vote for me in the P&E poll," "no, vote for so and so," even, "I'll back out if you vote for this person so he can win." I tried to express my opinion and ended up being flogged on the readers loop for dimming down what should be a joyous moment. As I watched from the sidelines with a bitter taste in my mouth, I realized, winning or losing didn't really matter to most, it was about camaraderie, family, and support. If you believe in your publisher, you must believe they contract only the best work, so why wouldn't you support your peers. I didn't advertise that I voted, but I did. I supported my publishing families...two of them, and although it was difficult in some categories where several author sisters and brothers competed, I actually read samples on Amazon before I voted for work I hadn't read.

I suppose whether or not you vote in any of the ongoing contests is a personal choice. I've voted for friends who have asked me, and I've probably asked for a few votes here and there myself, but really, do I want my videos to be judged by the number of friends I have or by the work that went into the product? Do I want to be deemed the most worthy of an award because I spent more time sending out emails? I don't think so. My trophy cabinet may remain bare, but I'll still have my foolish pride, won't I? Winning a contest is sort of like winning the race...you have to break the ribbon first. No steroids allowed, and the judges watch you like crazy. I like the surprise nominations...ones you know nothing about and can do nothing to manipulate. Those are the ones I want to win. Dreaming, aren't I?

I'm interested to see how others feel. Has being in the industry for a few years changed how you view contests or am I the only skeptic?

The Low-Down from a Genuine Reviewer

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 23:00:08 PST

My guest today is someone who spends time doing a great service to authors--reviewing. As someone who worked in that capacity for a time, I'm well aware of the time-consuming effort that goes into what I often considered a pretty thankless job. The compensation is getting to read books, and lots of them. There are some who review with kid-gloves and others who chew you up and spit you out. As Laurie points out so succinctly, it's all in the reviewer's POV and style.

Laurie has been kind enough to allow me to interview her and ask some of those burning questions I think most authors would like to ask if they had a chance. If I skipped over something, feel free leave your query in comments. Laurie's very candid and thoughtful answers appear below, and I'm so impressed with her as a person and a reviewer:

Laurie, your blog has become a favorite of mine, and I have to admit that getting a four-star review from someone I've never met for Sister's in Time, (taking advantage of promo opp) thrilled me more than I can say. Thank you for your kind words, and even more for agreeing to appear on Dishin' It Out. Let's get to those questions. :)

1. Besides considering paranormal a favorite genre, what else about a book that's submitted for review grabs your attention and makes you want to read it?

First let me say thanks for giving me this opportunity to talk about myself. I will do my best to respond as candidly and honestly as possible, but like everything else in life, there are always exceptions, for example, Memoirs are not generally a favorite genre of mine, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t read some wonderful memoirs during the years. Also, I am speaking only for myself. Other reviewers may disagree or place a higher value on attributes much differently than I do.

First, I rarely pick a book if the genre isn’t appealing to me personally. The blurb is extremely important to me in deciding whether or not I want to read the book. I love a pretty cover, and it may entice me to read the blurb, but if the blurb bores me, or is too long, or is too short, or simply doesn’t grab me, then I move on to the next selection. It’s highly unlikely I will read a book if I don’t connect via the blurb.

Next, I’ll read at least a few paragraphs or pages from the Kindle free sample. The story generally must grab me quickly. This is so difficult to quantify because I notice that I may think a story starts off wonderfully, whereas, some other reviewer will claim it was slow and dragged for her. I guess there’s no accounting for taste. LOL

I almost forgot to mention another big consideration for me. I have to constantly take into account how many other books I’ve promised reviews for and how loaded up my reading schedule already is before I promise another book review. I feel terrible when I’ve promised a review by a certain date and I am not able to meet that commitment on time. Right now, for example, I’m behind schedule and feeling the pressure. Mostly, it’s pressure I put on myself, but I know I’m disappointing authors waiting for reviews, and I hate being in that position.

One of my resolutions this year is to be more discerning about promising reviews. Unfortunately, I am seeing quite a few books that I truly would love to read that I am saying “No” to. The really good ones should stay on my radar screen for later.

Gosh, Ginger! This is almost a full guest post in itself! I guess you can just delete all that follows!! Haha!!

2. How much attention do you pay to cover art in making your selections?

Actually, very little. I love reading books by new authors or small publishers. They may not have the resources to put into a snazzy cover. I like to see beautiful cover work when it’s there, but my review never takes the cover graphics into consideration. It’s just not that important me, personally.

3. You may or may not realize how many rules we face as authors, and often times we have to pick and choose which alter our writing styles and which do not. How closely do you pay to "rules" such as avoiding passive voice, head-hopping, or excessive tags. Does it bother you when someone uses a tag to describe dialogue before it's spoken? And since we're on the topic, what sort of problem areas do you find that drive you absolutely bonkers? Do you care how many times we use "was" or "it"?

I pay very little attention to writing rules, as such. I want to read a story that flows easily - that is not choppy or disjointed. Passive voice can have its place, but used excessively can make for a very boring story. As a general rule, I don’t care for a book that incorporates lots of changes in the point of view. I enjoy stories written in 3^rd person, and I enjoy many that are written in 1^st person. In conversations, I like to know definitively who’s saying what – I hate having to guess. I’m not quite sure what you mean by tagging a dialogue so I’ll pass on commenting about that.

I certainly don’t count how many times a small word is used. I’ve never had occasion to think about “it” or “was”, until now <evil grin>. “And” can drive me crazy sometimes when it’s overused or improperly used. I fall into that trap all too often, myself.

Sometimes words just pop out at me as I am reading. For example, I just finished reading a book I enjoyed but the author often referred to the creature’s “appendages” when she was talking about its “wings”. It got old quickly for me. Sure, wings are appendages, but not all appendages are wings. Another, favorite author of mine actually, tends to have folks “skittering” around a lot. That just rankles - mice skitter, people generally don’t. I also often see authors using the word “chortle” when they mean “choke”. That’s just wrong, a chortle is a kind of laugh.

Poorly constructed sentences drive me bonkers, as well as common grammatical problems. That said, I’m not an English major, and I know I make more than my fair share of mistakes, too. I read to be entertained, but I do set the bar rather high when it comes to line editing. I realize it can be expensive for independents to get their book professionally edited, but I do feel a well-edited story is just as important as the story itself when it comes time to peddle it to readers. One sure way to get slammed in reviews is to publish a poorly edited book – corrections can be made after the fact, but your reputation will have still taken a beating.

I often see one paranormal reviewer complain in many of her reviews that the heroine is so blasé about all the strange new powers she gets, or whatever. “How can she just shrug it off and move on?” is her oft-repeated reframe. I am just the opposite, I hate whiny “why me” heroines. I prefer strong females. Suck it up, accept your new circumstances, and let’s move on to the action and saving the world. <grin> Though I suppose I’d be pretty doggone whiny too, if it were me. So there you have it. I relate to characters who are strong and courageous in the face of adversity, and who are loyal to their friends. I love authors who find interesting, relevant, and creative ways in which to torture their characters.

4. How soon into a book can you tell whether or not you've made a good choice?

Hopefully very early on. I don’t have the patience to spend time reading something that just isn’t doing it for me.

5. Have you ever picked a book that you just couldn't finish and had to return?

Yes, especially when I have multiple reviews due around the same time. I don’t have time to get bogged down for too long. I’ll set the book aside and move onto something that is more entertaining. Sometimes too, it isn’t the book; it’s just that I’m in the mood for something lighter or darker, as the case may be. It’s not that uncommon for me to be reading two or three books simultaneously. That was especially the case before I became addicted to my Kindle. I had a book at home, one for the car, and another in my purse. Now, I just make sure I have my Kindle (and my backup Kindle) always with me.

6. Do you ever find yourself basing your review on what you expected the book to be rather than what it truly turned out to be?

I really do make an effort to get a good feel for whether or not the book is one I think I will enjoy reading before agreeing to read it. Truth is, I absolutely don’t want to read a book that’s not interesting to me, so I think I am pretty picky about which ones I select to read. Sometimes a book will surprise me by turning out better or worse than I expected. I try my darnedest to keep the bad surprises to a minimum.

I dislike writing bad reviews. I think there is little purpose to it. Just because it’s not for me, doesn’t mean a whole slew of other readers might find it wonderfully original, or creative, or whatever. Also, I try to have empathy for the authors’, who have (in most cases) put their heart and soul into the story. It’s their baby, who am I to tell them they have an ugly baby? The old adage “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” comes to mind.

7. Reviewers, like people who are purely readers, are most important in the role we as authors play. The wait time to get a review has increased dramatically over the years, so what tip can you share that might hasten someone's book in being picked sooner rather than later?

Write the best blurb you possibly can. Make sure your book is well-edited. With the barrage of self-published books, and the explosion of new writers, readers and reviewers can afford to be selective about their reading choices. Never turn down the opportunity to promote your book via interviews or guest blog spots.

I also think a book tour can be a really good investment. Shop for BEST VALUE not simply lowest price or you will most likely not get the results you hope for.

8. Considering that I'm an ebook author and care little for mainstream, I appreciate that most of the authors you feature are from my same industry. Care to share who might be a few of your favorites?

I’m so fickle. My favorite is often the one whose book I’m currently reading. I cherish those of you who write to entertain me, and I am always thankful when I get an opportunity to feature well-written books and terrific authors on my blog.

9. I'm sure you read the reviews others have written. Have there been some that left you cold and made you think they were unfair to the author? If so, can you give an example?

I despise reviews that sound like personal attacks. I heartily dislike reviews that contain major spoilers or read more like book reports. I don’t want to read a synopsis of the book, I want to know what feelings the author was able to invoke in the reviewer. I dislike reviews that nitpick every little thing – it just seems harsh and inappropriate to me. Sometimes, if there are specific things that bothered me, I prefer to email the author directly and privately about it. Most are gracious and seem to appreciate the insights. Stuff like that, imo, has no place in a public review. I know others will disagree and that’s OK, but I prefer not to participate.

Unless I am required to, I will not post a 1 or 2 star review – I just don’t feel that my opinion really matters all that much in the big scheme of things. I understand the flip view, but I want my efforts to be geared toward helping talented authors improve name recognition, and not embarrass those who may not make the cut – there are plenty of others who will handle that; I have no desire to join those ranks.

10. What words of advice would you give to authors who want to write that five-star novel?

Easier said than done. Write your story so it flows energetically and smoothly. Make it entertaining to read. Never publish a first draft. Edit for content, edit for grammar, edit for little typos and misused or missed words. From what I’ve heard from many authors, belonging to a writer’s group and having critique partners is very important. I also think beta readers can help, but only if you are willing to incorporate some of the suggestions.

I know that getting those first few glowing reviews is all important, but be wary of getting too many of your friends to write a review for your new book. Reader backlash against that practice can really hurt new authors, imo.

And finally, if I didn't cover everything in my questions, feel free to use this time to share anything you'd like us to know about you, your blog site, your reviewing experiences, or even ask us to respond in comments to some questions you might have for us as authors.

You asked some great questions, Ginger. I just hope my opinionated responses don’t totally alienate some wonderful authors. I love finding new stories and new authors and helping them spread the word about their creations. Unfortunately, I haven’t the hours needed to read every book that appeals to me – I wish I did.

Thank you again Laurie, for being my guest. I usually prefer free-style blogging, but I have to say, I truly enjoyed interviewing you. Your answers were candid and to the point, and I look forward to having you back again. :)

Life Behind Bars

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 23:00:01 PST

As I sit in the dank prison visitor's room, with a smudged pane of class between Carrie, my heroine from First Degree Innocence, and myself, I'm struck by the cold gray walls, the steel folding chairs on the visitor's side, and the lack of any hint of color to brighten the mood. Nothing about this prison is inviting. The smell of bleach mingles with food from past meals served, and instead of a sprig of parsley, I envision a individually-wrapped vitamin on each plate to keep the assorted germs at bay. I wish I'd worn a plastic glove to handle the old black receiver I hold to my ear so I can hear Carrie's answers to my interview questions. Lord knows who fondled the thing before me.

I turn my attention back to the wide eyes and cute face on the other side of the marred pane. Under different circumstances, she'd be my next door neighbor's daughter. Today, I decided to interview her in the early part of her story. I'm not sure she knows I'm the author of First Degree Innocence or not.

Me: "So, Carrie, what was your first thought when you arrived here?"

Carrie: "Holy shit, this isn't a nightmare. It's real."

Me: "You still claim your innocence?"

Carrie: "For what good it does. No one believes me except..."

Me: "Except who?"

Carrie: "I'm not saying. I don't want to get anyone into trouble, and I'm hoping that I'll get out of this hellhole pretty soon."

Me: "I understand you were deemed guilty because there was an eye-witness who placed you at the bank the day it was robbed."

Carrie: "That's the only reason they convicted me. I didn't have an alibi. They day they arrested me , I had called in sick from work, in fact, hadn't moved off the couch all day. The detective didn't care what I had to say. With the witness' ID of me supported by fuzzy bank surveillance, I suppose his word was stronger than mine, but trust me, I didn't have anything to do with the robbery.

Me: "They identified your car, didn't they?"

Carrie: "So, I have the same make and model car. I'm sure I'm not the only one in the world. My problem was I didn't have anyone to vouch for me. Coincidence is a word for a reason and I got screwed by it."

Me: "How has prison life been so far?"

Carrie: *sits forward in her chair* "How you do expect life is behind bars? Take a look around. It doesn't get any cheerier than this, and you're my first visitor."

Me: "Have you made any friends on the inside."

Carrie: *chuckles* "I guess you could call my cellmate a friend, although you can't ever be sure anyone in this place is being honest. Suzanna sort of got railroaded too, and she's been a great comfort to me, but you always have doubts about everyone. Jet especially."

Me: "And who is Jet?"

Carrie: "You know how you always hear about bullies in life? Well, Jet is the bully that runs roughshod over everyone in here. She seems to have found favor with the guards, and they look the other way where she's concerned. For some reason, she's taken an interest in me...one that makes me very nervous."

Me: "I feel a little responsible for the predicament you're in. You probably know I wrote your story, if not, I'll fess up. Although I wish I could tell you how things will end, I can't give away the books ending. I just wanted to meet with you today to give the readers a glimpse of where you are and how you're feeling. I can tell you there's a light at the end of the tunnel."

Carrie: "With my luck, it'll be a train." *She leans back and sighs. "I don't hold you responsible. You're just telling...oh, excuse me, showing my story to your readers, and I can't fault you for that. You get your inspiration where you can. Just tell me one thing...is Jet a lesbian? I'm a little worried about that...you know with this being all women..."

Me: "That really the least of your worries as far as Jet's concerned. Just stay strong."

Carrie: "Gee, thanks for that bit of advice."

The sound of a buzzer echoes through the room and a voice booms over a loud-speaker, announcing that visiting hours are over. Carrie rises, receiver in hand and looks at me with sad eyes.

"Just get me out of here, please."

As I hang up the phone and scrub my hands down my pant legs, I feel a pang of guilt for the situation Carrie faces. I know the ending to the book, but what happens between now and then isn't going to be easy for her. I hope she can stay strong...and if you want to know more, too bad, you have to buy First Degree Innocence to find out.

The novel is published by Books We Love, and you can purchase it on Amazon for a ridiculously low price.

Welcome Sheilagh Lee writing as S.G. Lee

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 23:30:01 PST

S.G.Lee was born and raised in London, Ontario. She is the mother of two grown daughters and happily married. She is an avid reader of mysteries and paranormal novels. Her favourite writers are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie, Kelley Armstrong and Charlaine Harris.Growing up she feasted on tales of family history, and other imaginative stories; as her family continued the long tradition of passing on stories orally. Those tales and more of her own are itching to be told so she has been putting pen to paper and fingers to computer to get them all down resulting in this first novel with many more stories to come.

Interview Questions:

1.) How long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing as long as I could print

Please tell us about your current release

My current release is Love’s Labours Won (The Stone Chronicles) It is a paranormal novel.

It is the story of Sarah Dexler. Sarah is a young single woman in dire straits. Her rent is due, she was fired from her last job and she has no family to turn to. So she accepts the fateful offer of a mysterious job interview, which turns out to be a ruse to steal gifts that she never even realized she had. As she set upon this journey Sarah will discover a world of magic, mystery and the supernatural. As Sarah learns about this new world she is exposed to adventure, danger and intrigue...and romance in the form of the mysterious Demetrious Blackstone. All the while Sarah must learn to control her gifts and suppress her own demons to defeat the perils that await her. Only then can she discover her inner voice and follow her own path that will lead to the true love she knows she deserves.

Tell us about your next releases.

I will publish Dreams Can Kill-A gothic mystery within the next month as well as my murder mystery A Penny Saved A Murder Earned and sometime later this year the sequel to Love’s Labours Won, A Tiger's Heart Wrapped in A Player’s Hide

Dreams Can Kill is the story of amnesiac Sharon Alexander. She’s is recovering from a bullet wound to the head and does not know who to trust. Everything is a blank including her assailants face. As she struggles to recover her assailant plays cat and mouse with her to get something she doesn’t recall. Sharron must fight and remember or she will find out Dreams can Kill.

A Penny Saved A Murder Earned is the story of Lily Kelly and her family. Lily Katha, Amelia, as well as Lily’s adopted daughter Rose Brooksfield feel like they are under a curse; but appears to be the work of a serial killer that people around them having been falling like dominoes. Amelia’s parents and siblings, Amelia’s husband and son, and Lily’s first husband all have been targeted by a killer. Now as Amelia’s store clerk, a homeless man, Lily’s present husband the Mayor, and Lily’s mother-in law are targeted. Lily and her cousin Amelia are suspected by the investigating officer Emmett Rogers. Lily and her family must fight the impulse to blame the curse and get to the bottom of who is causing all their woes before the killer targets them.

A Tiger's Heart Wrapped In A Player’s Hide

This book has not been finalized yet but I have done the basic outline for it.

Sarah is still on a voyage of discovery learning about herself and her abilities. She’s not living the life she planned however since the Magik council is under siege from an unknown enemy and Demetrious is too busy fighting this person to visit her. Sarah must find her inner strength and abilities once more to help Demetrious and save herself and the world from this unknown assailant as they threaten her life as she knows it.

2.) Has someone been instrumental in inspiring you as a writer?

My mother was always my inspiration as she was always writing and encouraging me to tell my stories.

And my good friend and author Jodi Langston has always helped and encouraged me with my writing,

3.) Who is your favorite author?

Do I have to pick one? LOL For paranormal and murder mystery definitely Charlaine Harris. I love all her books.

4.) When do you write?

I write after I get up and write for at least six hours a day or more.

5.) What is the hardest part of writing your books?

Knowing when to put the computer down and walk away and when to go back to it( to finish writing and forming the idea.)

6.)Where do you research for your books?

A lot of it is on the internet but I do lot of research at the library as well.

7.) What does your significant other and family think of your writing career?

They are very supportive.

8) Does your significant other read your stuff?

Yes and he liked it.

9.) Who are your books published with?

I am indie published.

10.) How do you describe your writing style?

I believe I’m like Morganville Vampires author Rachel Caine.

11.) What do you think makes a good story?

A good story has you identifying with the main character and then gives the reader a few twists and turns to surprise you.

12.) Some writers find they plot their novels then write them they are known as plotters others just write as the ideas come and are known as pantsers. Which are you?

I’m a bit of both I plot first then let the muse take me where it needs to go.

13).Tell us about your family.

I am one of six children and happily married with two grown children.

14.) Do you use a pen name? If so, how did you come up with it?

I use my initials S.G.Lee. It fit better on the cover.

15.) Do you listen to music while writing? If so what?

I listened to Rasmus and Katy Perry and some other artists depending on mood of the story.

16.) What was your favourite all time book?

Katy did by Susan Coolridge. I found Katy’s courage and strength as well as acceptance of her situation inspiring.

18.What book are you reading now?

Vampires not Invited by Cheyenne McCray

19.) As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A nurse. I changed my mind when I got older as writing appealed to me more.

20.)What are your favorite TV shows?

HBO’s True Blood, Grimm, Once upon A Time, The Mentalist, Both NCIS’

21.) What songs are most played on your Ipod?

Fireworks and in the shadows and anything by Adele.

22.) What is your favorite meal?

Pizza

23.)Do you have any suggestions for beginning writers? If so, what are they?

Write, write and write some more. start a blog and keep writing there. Observe people and interactions of people. Start a Twitter account and Facebook account,

24.) At what point in your life did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

When I was eleven years old and won a speaking trophy for a story I wrote.

Where can your readers find you?

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/SweetSheil

or Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sheilagh-Lee/17095187962831

Do you have a Website or Blog? http://sheilaghlee.blogspot.com

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers

I hope you enjoy the characters as much as I enjoyed writing them and thank you for choosing to read my novel.

Six Sentence Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 23:00:00 PST

Happy New Year everyone. I missed a few weeks, and I've gotten behind on reading the six sentences I enjoy on other folks' blogs. This week, I'm going to start a new six sentence series, this time from Sisters in Time, my time-travel romance with an historical twist.

Here's the blurb to set the scene:

Two eras collide when a modern day attorney and a pioneer wife find themselves locked in a time not their own. Mariah Cassidy awakens in the twentieth century. Confined in a pristine environment, hooked to tubes and beeping machines, she’s scared, confused and wondering why everyone keeps calling her Mrs. Morgan. Who is the strange man who keeps massaging her forehead and telling her everything is going to be alright? Taylor Morgan tries to focus on her surroundings through a blinding headache. The patchwork quilt, the water basin, and the archaic room don’t strike a familiar chord. Her mouth gapes when a handsome man waltzes into the room, calls her darling, and expresses his delight that she’s on the road to recovery. Clearly something is amiss.

Here's my six sentences for this week:

Suddenly, an intense rumbling sound shook the prairie stillness. From an almost cloudless sky, thunder cast a single bolt of lightning, striking the ground with energy enough to propel dirt through the air and set fire to a small patch of grass. Immediately, calm prevailed; only a column of smoke billowing skyward remained as evidence.

Frank pondered the strange occurrence, but fueled by the need to find his wife, hurried in the direction of the fading smoke. “Mariah, Mariah, please answer me.” His boots cut a path through the heavy brush.

I Got a Liebster? Wow!

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 23:00:01 PST

Goodness, I'd never heard of the Liebster Award for blogs, but now I've gotten one...and from Zakgirl. I'm honored because she mentioned in her nominations that Dishin' It Out is filled with fun and interesting stuff to read. I can't ask for more than that. So thank you, Zakgirl, for the honor. I'm flattered.

What is the intention of the award? To draw attention to blogs that deserve more.

If you're curious about the name, liebster is German for "favorite" or "dearest." I love being someone's favorite anything. :)

My instructions, since I gladly accept this award, are:

1. Post this award on your blog. (Check)
2. Thank and link to the person who gave it to you. (Check)
3. Pass it on to five bloggers who have less than 200 followers. (Check, except I'm not entirely sure about the number of followers.)
4. Comment on those five people's blogs to share the good news. (Check, I can hear them groaning already)

Here are my five:

1. Karen Cote - Romance Author (Romance...It's complicated) - Karen gets my first nod because of her innovative blog and the creative way she brings authors to readers and makes their books come alive. Besides, she's an awesome person and a very talented author whose first book captivated me.

2. Caroline Clemmons (A Writer's Life) - Caroline writes my favorite genre, and I've recently discovered her blog. Her posts are entertaining and informative. Plus, I like her style.

3. Roseanne Dowell (Where Love Blooms and Romance Happens) - Roseanne is a fellow Muse author and good friend with a dedication to her peers that surpasses many. She's dedicated to sharing her blog and giving a stage to others when she's not promoting her own work. What a woman!!

4. Maggie Toussaint (Mudpies and Magnolias) - Now who wouldn't want to research a blog with a title like that. Maggie is another recent find of mine...both a friendship and an interesting blog. She deserves to be discovered by more readers.

5. Anita Davison (The disorganised Author) - I've known Anita longer than any of the other people I've listed, and when asked about favorite authors, she always makes my list. Her blog is one of the most interesting I've found, and written in the same captivating style as her novels. Don't miss it.

Okay...I've done my duty. I've been blogging for quite a time and have an extensive roll from which to choose. These five were not awarded on the spur of the moment, rather are listed because these women go the extra mile to keep topics interesting and fun. That draws me in every time. I assure you, you won't regret checking them out. Congratulations, Ladies...and again, thank you Zakgirl. You made my day.

An Escape from Reality?

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 12:00:44 PST

Writing can set you free, and writer's block is a horrible pause in what is usually my escape from reality. Lately, I've been stuck. As a pantser, I don't plot, so if my character turns mute, I have no one to guide me. Those that know where their story is headed before they sit down and write have a leg up on those of us who don't, but in reality, I can't plot. I've tried and it just doesn't work for me. Like my readers, I never know where I'm headed until I get there. It's a b*tch dying to know what's going to happen next and not having a clue, and I can't just turn a page...I have to write it. *lol*

This is the first story ever that's stalled for me. I think it's because I followed Hattie into a corner that we didn't know how to get out of. I do now, thanks to some brain-storming with fellow authors, and I'm back on track. The words are starting to flow since that I've given Hattie a new direction. She's talking again and anxious to move ahead with her story. We've totally switched gears from an historical western to a time-travel historical. I'm jazzed. I hear her sweet voice again.

You might think it's strange to admit to hearing voices, but I get scared when I don't. Normally, I have a chattering cacophony in my brain and struggle to sort out which one I want to hear. I'm blessed that most of my characters come with a story, title and a passel of friends in hand, so I have to give little thought to the telling of the story. The task for me lies in showing it to the reader.

Anyone can tell a great story, I've often heard, but it takes a true author to involve the reader in the emotions, smells, sights, and sounds. Basically, I have to pull everyone's senses into the story and use them. When the wind blows, I want my readers to feel the breeze caressing their cheeks. If I'm baking cookies, I want that smell to invade their nostrils and tickle their appetites. When my heroine cries because her heart is broken, I want my readers to reach for a tissue. It sounds simple, yet it's one of the hardest parts of being a writer. You can't just show, you have to show in present tense, put the reader in the moment and make them live the story as if they were the leading role. Simple, huh?

NOT. The myriad of rules that come into play, keep things interesting, and it seems they change with the wind. What's important one day, doesn't seem to be the next, and there is always something new on the horizon. The task then becomes which guidelines to follow and which to ignore. I've decided I'll write in my fashion and keep my fingers crossed. I ignore a lot of the simple rules because they don't follow my writing style, but ones that really interrupt the flow for me when I'm reading the work of others are ones I adhere to. Example...I try very hard not to use tags to describe dialogue that hasn't yet been spoken. How can you describe someone's tone before they speak? In fact, I'm trying very hard to avoid tags as much as possible. Readers are smart...they can figure out the obvious. If two people are in the room, we don't have to identify the movement or speech of each one in every instance. You'd be surprised how many thing authors still do. We all are in varying stages of our career, and there's always a lot to learn.

For me the best part of writing is finding an outlet for my own emotions. When my real world gets tough, I can escape by writing about someone elses life. If I'm angry, I can smash a virtual chair or turn the air blue with language I wouldn't normally use. If I'm in pain, I can transfer all that to my leading lady and let her do the crying for me. I can become a real super hero, dash back or forward in time, even make love to a shape shifter if I so desire, or I can just be content to write something contemporary and modern. A lot has to do with my character and what they bring to the table, but I also reserve my license to be creative. It comes in handy.

Here's a snippet from First Degree Innocence, where I tried very hard to show the reader Carrie's fright at being falsely imprisoned. Did I do it?

Clutching her new belongings, Carrie trailed behind, her heart pounding hard against her chest wall. Never in her life had she felt so frightened or been treated so disrespectfully, and there was not a thing she could do about it. She took a long, calming breath and placed one foot in front of the other, although she didn’t know how on legs so wobbly. Two smirking male guards held open the steel doors, allowing the women to pass into a hallway.

She chewed her bottom lip and peered around her load. The corridor seemed endless. Beneath overhead lights, the tiled floor glistened with a freshly waxed sheen. Painted block walls displayed the same dismal gray as the holding cell, and the distinct smell of bleach hung in the air. The chlorine did little to mask the odor of unwashed bodies and co-mingled with the aroma of the most recently-served meal. Bile rose in her throat and she struggled not to retch. The same question kept echoing in her head. How could this have happened? She didn’t belong in this place.

Ogden unlocked yet another steel door and, holding it, motioned for Carrie to enter. Foggy disbelief clouded her mind, but she did as instructed, waiting for the guard and staring down yet another endless passageway. The slamming door sliced the silence and made her jump. At once, the desolate area came to life with a cacophony of catcalls and lewd comments directed at her. Reaching hands stretched between bars from the confinement of the cells, grabbing at the air as she passed. She gulped and tried to keep her eyes forward, but found it difficult to ignore the myriad of strange faces that peered between the bars and vied for her attention. She hunched her shoulders and gripped her prison issue, trying to draw into a ball to avoid being touched. She had nothing in common with these women.

Run away, run away. You don’t belong here. The voice in her head drowned out all other noises and encouraged her to do something she knew wasn’t possible. Cement, steel doors, and endless hallways stood between her and freedom. Not one person in the place had believed her when she’d proclaimed her innocence.

With the turn of a key, a single cell swung open, and Ogden shoved Carrie inside. “Sweet dreams. If you need anything, just call room service.” Again, the woman’s taunting guffaw pierced Carrie like a knife.

****

If you liked what you read, you can find FDI on Amazon.

A New Year, an Old Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 22:30:01 PST

As we begin a new year, I wanted to share a post I wrote a few years ago...it still applies. We're starting over from 1 in the 365 day calendar. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all follow the saying, "Be the change you want to see?"

The older I get, the less patience I have. I hope as my tolerance wears thin, my wisdom grows. I try to think of my own behavior before I lecture others...but in some cases, when I point a finger, four are pointing back out me. One thing I can say...I don't litter. :) Happy New Year. Go forth and be better. (The post has been updated a bit).

Another day, another wrinkle and a new pain; and you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor? Think about it. He gave us one to deal with the stresses of life; he has to have some release once in a while from a world that’s in a huge mess. People just can’t get along no matter how much they’ve been warned to ‘play nice’. If forty days and forty nights of rain didn’t get the message across, he probably threw up his hands and cried in frustration. I can just hear him now. “For heaven sakes, I drowned everything and gave them a chance to start over.”

Did we? Heck no. We turned all his beautiful work into arteries of blacktop littered with tons of trash, and with the wondrous brain he gave us, we created mechanical devices that belch smoke and gases into the air, turning his pristine blue sky to murky brown. No doubt, he’s wondering why we couldn’t have stuck with the horse-drawn carriages; the most trouble they caused was a little pile of manure here and there.--it's called fertilizer. That only helped the flowers and grass to grow.

As I listen to the daily news, I feel the Lord’s pain. His children are engaged in constant war and killing one another. Imagine what that must feel like. I detested my children’s bickering; I can’t picture one taking the life of the other. Losing a child is a mother’s worst nightmare, and we've plagued God with a never-ending one.

It’s not just in the middle east where war rages. Even our own streets aren’t safe. We fight for turf, designer shoes, and racial slurs. Our children take guns to school to get even with those who bully them. We use violence instead of words. How sad we’ve become. God allows us to make our own choices, and we continue to make bad ones. How we act speaks volumes about us. This morning I followed another car as I drove my grandson to school. A lit cigarette bounced off my windshield and then into the weeds along roadside. Luckily, the grass was drenched with frost and probably drowned the flame. How can people show such little regard for the safety of our land and the people who live nearby when they decide to flick out a burning butt?

My anger is stirred to the point of boiling every time I see someone throw trash out their car window. Our beautiful landscapes are littered with bottles, cans, dirty diapers, and fast food containers. How difficult is it to hold onto your trash until you get home and can throw it where it belongs? Just think if everyone did. Wouldn’t that be grand?

My mother brought me up to take pride in where I live, to value my belongings and never feel ashamed if someone drops by unexpectedly. I used to be anal about dust and rumpled pillows, but I’ve relaxed. Still, you’ll never visit my house and find it filthy. I believe in hygiene, both physically and in my surroundings. I stood in line behind a guy at the market a few days ago and wished he’d shared the concept. I reminded myself that the reward for hard labor is a good healthy sweat. He must be a hard worker.

My thoughts of his hygiene problem were swept away when the cashier rang up my total. I think I gasped that the few things I bought came to almost $75.00. As long as the cost of gasoline is sky-high, prices of everything else will continue to creep up, too. Everything you buy is delivered by a truck, and the cost of diesel is even higher than gasoline now. Why, I ask myself. For years it was a whole lot cheaper. Just another game that conglomerates are allowed to play. I tried to find a bright spot by thinking that maybe high fuel prices would keep the litterbugs off the street, but alas, as I drove home, I was bombarded by a flying McDonald’s bag and a few French fries. Where’s the pride, people?

Everyone is mindful of the upcoming elections and trying to decide on the right person to lead our nation. In the big scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter who gets elected. Things will never change until we do. The secret to a better life is within each of us. Love, pride, honor, and selflessness… just a few things we need to practice a little more each day. Whether we elect a Republican or Democrat, male or female, no one has the ability to monitor all the little things that need to change to make our world a better place. The candidates can’t even run for office without engaging in character assassination and smear campaigns. What hope can you draw from that?

We all share responsibility to honor the gifts God has given us… to find a way to live shoulder to shoulder with one another in harmony and learn respect for our beautiful world. I’d love to live to see the day. Wouldn’t you?

RING IN THE NEW YEAR WITH GINGER AND SOME AMAZING EBOOKS

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 19:20:03 PST

Happy New Year. I'm ringing in 2012 by opening up my blog today and tomorrow to anyone who would like to post a tag line/blurb/buy link in the comments section. To play, you must have your own blog set up with the same title so I can hop over and post my info on your site. It's a 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' type of arrangement. I can't wait to see how many great reads we can post.

Since I'm the site owner, I'll post my info as an example. Just remember, don't post an entire book, we want to leave room for other guests...oh, and please keep your blurbs PG rated. Thanks.

Carrie Lang’s sheltered life ends with a prison sentence and lands her smack dab in the middle of an evil retribution plan concocted by the prison bully against another inmate. Arrested on the one day she calls in sick, Carrie has no one to verify her alibi when a supposed eye-witness describes her down to the make and model of her car. Her ten-year sentence seems mild compared to being threatened with death for being an unwilling participant in an outlandish scheme. Can she find a way out of her horrible nightmare, or are the cold gray prison walls her destiny?

First Degree Innocence available at Amazon for an amazing $2.99.

Please leave your information in comments AND DON'T FORGET YOUR BLOG LINK... Let us know which book you consider Amazing. :)

Hormonal?

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 23:00:01 PST

If you know me, you know my life is an open book. During our summer trip to Alaska, hubby and I had an opportunity to have "bio-identical" hormone pellets injected beneath the skin of our hips. For months, I'd felt like crap...no energy, no interest in anything, actually wondering if what I felt was akin to waiting to die. The hormones changed my life--literally. I felt renewed--twenty years younger, alert, fun-loving, and sexy. My husband told me he felt like he'd gotten his wife back. I saw a new me in the mirror. My skin tightened, my face looked years younger. Do you know what an amazing feeling that is? For him, he was able to discontinue the synthetic testosterone shots he received monthly, and immediately felt and looked better. Good for both of us. :)

The hormones are absorbed by your system over a period of four months for women, six for men. Before the first injection was totally depleted, I went for seconds. I have to travel three hours away to find a doctor who doesn't see this as a money-making venture and believes in helping his patients. The insurance pays for the office visit, I pay for the pellets, and I get two per visit. Hormones equal good life, but then, I started realizing I was losing hair. I'd expected, perhaps to grow a mustache, but not develop male-pattern baldness. *lol* One call to the doctor explained the problem...my body was converting the testosterone into something that it shouldn't, so I take a pill to change that. That's been the one side affect, until now, when my second round of pellets has completely gone. I feel like I've going through the change of life all over again. So, it's not a wise move to wait until the last minute to see the doc. I go again next Wednesday to have them renewed, and I can't wait.

What ticks me off? My husband is able to go to a local urologist and have his done without any hassles from the insurance company. I, however, am deemed unnecessary since I've exceeded the expiration date on usefulness as far as the medical community and insurance industry is concerned. Yes, our bodies stop producing hormones, but that doesn't mean we can't replenish them and continue to live a more rewarding life. The qualify of mine totally changed with the implants, and now I'm back to the same uncaring, unproductive, foggy state I was pre-hormone injection. This procedure has been around for years, but the pharmaceutical companies don't want you to know about it. Imagine the decline in their pill-pushing. I've already ceased taking four prescriptions since becoming a pellet junkie. :) But, most doctors, and certainly the insurance companies operate on the theory that if my body has stopped producing hormones, I must not need them. I guess the fact that for me, BIH are like a proverbial fountain of youth. the good news is that now the insurance pays entirely for my husband. Again, we women get short-shafted.

Oh, if you're like me, you're suprised that women need testosterone. Here's what my friend, Ann, an FNP in Alaska has posted on her new FB page:

Hormones 101- Testosterone is not just a mans hormone. Men don't have the patten on it like we thought. Testosterone often declines due to many reasons, interfering not only with a woman's sexuality, but also her bone density, energy, memory, and muscle loss. Often putting muscle back into your abs burns the fat that seems to accumulates on tummies. It is a very important and I do mean important hormone for women.
I call getting your sexuality back as icing on the cake, but I have seen many women as young as 30 with hysterectomies, use of oral contraceptives, Depo-provera injections lose their sexuality. If you have heard the old term "sex is all in the head", that is so true, as our receptor sites are in our brains and without adequate "T", we lose the ability to fantasize which lead to those great orgasms. Makes a lot of sense if you think about it. So get those levels checked if you think there may be a problem, no matter what age you are. You deserve it and so does your partner.

Ann has done extensive research on these pellets and has a thriving practice to prove the procedure works. We're not talking "horse-urine" (premarin) as was given to many of us after hysterectomies, we're talking hormones bio-identically equal to those produced by our own bodies. What a concept. There are always going to be nay-sayers about everything in the world, but let me tell you, I cannot wait until next Wednesday. I want the new, improved Ginger back. I'm pretty sure that's why my writing has come to a screeching halt. Mind-fog, depression, and just not giving a "chit" is what being without my pellets causes, and I don't like it one bit.

If you want to find out more about the procedure and why we need hormones, I recommend a great book, Stay Young and Sexy with Bio-Identical Hormone Replacement. The authors, Dr. Jonathan V. Wright (MD) and Lane Lenard (PHD) explain the science aspect, and the foreword was written by Suzanne Somers, whom I quote...

"At present, people begin to degrade at middle age (which due to increasing stress is now becoming younger and younger), and the remedy conventional medicine prescribes is one of more pharmaceutical drugs. Can't sleep? Take **. Depressed? Take . High cholesterol? Take *. Anxiety or panic attacks? Take **. Then there's blood pressure medicine and pain killers, and soon you have a virtual tackle box of pharmaceuticals and so begins the slow degrade of "you." Your thinking becomes foggy, your joints ache, your libido disappears, the essence of who you are slowly slips away and tends towards disease."

Susanne Somers really nailed exactly how I was feeling pre-pelleting. Since 2004, this process has been getting a lot of attention, especially from Ms. Somers, Oprah Winfrey, and Dr. Phil's wife, Robin. As Ms. Somers says in her foreward..."Information is power," arm yourself and decide if you want to fade away into nothingness. I sure don't.

Time to Get Busy!

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 23:00:01 PST

Since I lapsed into a state of "muselessness," I've heeded the call of the games on Facebook. Sadly, it's not that I've stopped enjoying playing, rather the fact that FB announces to the world my every move. "Ginger is playing Words with Friends (fifteen minutes ago)," Ginger is playing Farkle (ten minutes ago)," Ginger is playing Gardens of Time (2 minutes ago)," "Ginger is playing Bingo (two seconds ago)." Even if you stop playing and move to something else, FB's big brother shadows you and announces your presence to the minions. If I wanted everyone to know what I was doing, I'd personally update my FB status.

For those of you who claim to be so busy, just remember, Santa isn't the only person keeping track of your behavior. I see where you are and what you're doing, and I take some satisfaction in knowing I'm not the only game junkie. I've tried to turn off the posting option, but FB won't let you. I've always hated tattletales and narcs, and FB is the worst. It's downright embarrassing, if not maddening, that people know my every move, so I've set December 31st as the last day I can wile away with lettered tiles, numbers on cards, automatic dice and a time machine. I've got to get back to Hattie's Hero, even if I have to strangle her until she talks to me. Actually, I'm a little jazzed because I think we're going to take a new direction, and I can't wait to see how she reacts to the change of plan.

Tomorrow, I'm calling Faces of Hope, my charity for Autism, and making arrangements to present them with a check. Thanks to several of my Muse It Up "sisters" who helped bolster my "Shortcoming" royalties for last quarter, I'll be able to donate $250.00 to help the organization with their endeavor to educate parents and aide children who need special assistance. In the big scheme of things, it's not a lot of money, but it's far more than I could have managed alone, and I'm so touched by the generosity of these women who gave because they cared. I won't name them because some wanted to remain anon and I've already blown that once, but they know who they are and how much their generosity means to me. I'm really excited, and I'll have someone take a snapshot to mark the occasion so I can share it here. I may have to wait until after the New Year, but I'll get it done. Gosh, I can't believe that 2012 is almost here. Can you?

After I call Faces of Hope, I think I'll call and make an appointment to use my gift certificate hubby gave me for Christmas. I can get a facial, manicure and pedicure, and I love them all. What a treat. Perhaps I can get them to pull a few wrinkles out of this face of hopelessness. *lol* Get it? play on words there. It was funny until I realized how true it is. I look in the mirror and wonder how my mother got there. Growing old is not for sissies.

Well, I'd love to blog longer, but the clock is ticking and I have some games to play. I don't have many days left to fritter away, so I'd best get busy. See you soon without something writing related...I promise.

Hugz,
Ginger

Did I Get It Right or What?

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 23:30:01 PST

I wrote the following letter in July of 2010. I found it in my files, and I thought it needed to be shared. I didn't even have a crystal ball. :)

Hello,

My name is Ginger Simpson and I’ve been invited by your instructor to share information with you on how to become a published author. If you would like to check out my accomplishments, please visit my website at http://www.gingersimpson.com or my blog at http://mizging.blogspot.com. I never dreamed in a million years that I would have achieved so much, and I’m happy to assist anyone interested in seeing their own dreams realized.

Have you considered the pros and cons of the e-book industry? I’ve been published with internet companies since 2003, and although that seems like a long time in dog years, the industry is still in its infancy. Why? I would like to preface the following conclusions by owning them. These are strictly my own opinions and experiences:

First, the number of techno-smart people are very young. Ipods, Iphones, new and improved video games and machines all reach out to this generation, and sales soar for the things they enjoy. Let’s face it, if you’re over forty…when you were a teenager or in your early twenties, did it occur to you how wonderful it would be to own something that allowed you to download a book? I don’t think so. We marveled at eight-track stereos and Pac-man.

Secondly, for those who do enjoy reading, books are a comfort item. People have grown used to holding something in their hands and actually turning pages. Garnering enthusiasm for something that obliterates what you’ve grown to love is never easy. Add in the stigma attached to e-book publishing: the bad press caused by companies that weren’t serious about making their mark in the publishing world, and you have a big reason why e-books have been slow on the uptake. That’s changing.

Face it, tons of Americans sit in front of their computer all day long, so the last thing they want to do is plant themselves there at night and read a book. Hand held readers are offering new horizons, becoming less expensive, and even old dogs are learning new tricks. Consider traveling with three or four paperbacks in your carry-on, or three hundred downloaded on a gadget that fits in your purse or pocket. The explosion of the ebook industry is looming. The younger generation is eager to explore and more likely to approve of new technology…especially when e-books are eco-friendly in so many ways.

It’s not going to be long before schools realize the value in doing away with all the textbooks and putting everything on a handheld reader. Doing so would save millions used for purchasing books, eliminate the need for lockers, and certainly improve the posture of all those back-pack toting teens. But then you’re messing with history, again, and people tend to growl when you do that.

I think small press has done wonders in overcoming the stigma that they will publish anything submitted to them. Competition has grown very keen, and rejections are an everyday occurrence. There are still some publishing companies who will accept everything sent them, because they hope to make up in quantity what they lack in quality. The shame: they’ve tarnished the reputation of those houses that have a good editorial staff in place and want to present the best of the best for their readers. The reality: They don’t have a good reputation, and legitimate authors avoid them like the plague. The stigma is also shared with self-publishing businesses. Authors who utilize this avenue are often looked upon as writers who couldn’t make the grade. Not true! Self-publishing allows a promising author to write “outside the box” that mainstream has created and a format that some e-pub houses tend to follow. Still, creative liberty is a big reason to appreciate most e-publishers from the author’s standpoint.

For years, New York has been the hub of the publishing world, but now, even they are beginning to see value in POD (print on demand) books. Harlequin has introduced a line that is digital only, and several companies have signed with Apple to be featured downloads on their new IPad.

Small publishers choose the Internet route because most are small-scale, even run out of private homes, and there is no room for stocking multiple copies of their authors’ works. Thus, Print on Demand books cost more than mass-market paperback runs—small operating budgets don’t allow for large print runs. In fact, to save overhead costs, many don’t offer print at all, but hope that “downloads” will continue to grow in popularity.

With the economy bottoming out and paper costs rising, you’ll find more NY authors offered on Amazon.com along with e-published authors. The sad thing for our industry: as NY authors move into the forefront of our “turf,” we are also seeing a swing in promotion. With Barnes & Noble recent takeover of Fictionwise, you’ll note that most of the advertisement on their home page has shifted to the well-known names. Not fair!

Promotion continues to be the number one requirement for sales, and in Internet publishing, all the expense and time falls mainly on the shoulders of the author. To avoid being known as a “vanity press” houses must pay the set up expense for the books, but after that their monetary input is minimal. Face it, people can’t buy what they don’t know about, and as e-pubbed writers who don’t enjoy the benefit of advances and promotional help, we often are stymied about what to do next. I blog, maintain a website, have my own pages on several author sites, belong to other mega-groups, loops, have author days, participate in interviews, have my books reviewed… I pretty much do whatever I think might help my sales climb, but unfortunately I’m still struggling to find the money to pay for my own promotional endeavors. In the first year alone, I spent over three thousand dollars to establish my website, attend a conference, and purchase promotional items and copies of my own books. The return on my investment was disappointing, and it hasn’t gotten much better despite my continued great reviews and encouragement from my peers and fans. I write because I love it, and there is great satisfaction in knowing I was able to query a publisher and win their favor. Pride is a good return on any investment.

I don’t know the answers. To me the big PRO is that internet publishing keeps you humble and you make awesome friends. The networking opportunities are endless, and the learning never ends. The CON, in my opinion, continues to be the return on the time and effort I invest, the lack of recognition by those who don’t value our industry, and, despite all my accomplishments, feeling a need to achieve that one final goal that puts a print copy of my work in a REAL store. I feel guilty for wanting to be a print author in a download world, although most of my work is available in print…just not available on an actual shelf.

Despite feeling defeated at times, I remind myself that while I may not be raking in the bucks, if I count the many friends who struggle along with me, urge me onward and support what I do, then I really, really am a millionaire. And, as the old cigarette commercial geared for women used to say, “You’ve come a long way, baby.”

I would love the opportunity to discuss how to turn your stories into novels. If you have questions, you can always reach me at mizging@gmail.com. Thanks for allowing me to invade your cyber

Christmas Past

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 18:58:36 PST

The trash cans are stuffed with wrapping paper, the tree looks sad and forlorn without all the gifts under it. Sort of matches my mood. The leftovers are stacked in the fridge...probably will stay there until they grow mold and I throw them out, and I feel such diappointment.

This was perhaps the worst Christmas I've had in a long time. I still have the spirit and belief in the holiday, but I was sorely disappointed in how everything turned out. I had planned to have Christmas Dinner here, but because of a misunderstanding, I thought my son's in-laws were coming to their house again, as they always have. I wanted it to be just us for one year, so I switchedto Christmas Eve. My sister, her boyfriend and son were supposed to come and spend the night, but that didn't happen. She and her son came, but her boyfriend went to his family's. Her son had worked all night, needed to sleep so went to bed. My sis has never been much of a Christmas person...considers herself more Jewish, so she didn't like the Christmas music I insisted we play, thought the ham and rolls tasted funny, and probably wished she'd stayed home. I sort of got the feeling no one wanted to be there. I really missed the phone call I usually got from my ex-husband who passed away in May. He was never much of a Christmas person either, but he always called to wish me well. I still feel the loss of him.

My son, his wife and the three children they share came, but my son was tired, his wife was not in a very good mood, their oldest son was bored, and the middle one was disappointed I didn't have more games for the PlayStation and more shrimp for him to devour. They're my step sons so I never get them as many gifts as I do Spencer, and I think the middle child resents me for that. He used to like me when he was younger, but now, he's like a stranger.

The only bright light in the entire group was Spencer. He was his usual chipper self, thanked me for every gift he got, for the dinner he ate, and loved everything he opened. Next year, I think I'll invite just him. :)

My sister and her son left first, deciding not to spend the night after all, and my son fell asleep in the chair a short time before he woke up and they went home. I was actually glad they all left since nothing seemed to go as I planned.

My son said nothing about the many gifts I gave him, his wife either. Their middle one never seems pleased with anything I give him, and although the eldest hugged me when they left, again, it was Spencer who gave me joy. I suppose my sister liked her gifts, and her son did seem pleased with his, but something was terribly lacking...in fact, for the first time in a long time, I didn't say the mandatory prayer I insist upon at Christmas dinner.

It's almost 9:00 Christmas night. I never heard from my oldest son and his wife, despite sending them gift cards and as much love as I could pack into my letter. Neither of Kelly's sons bothered to call, nor did any of them take the time to buy a Christmas card and invest in forty-two cents to mail it to us. I usually call my mother and brother, but this time I waited to see if they would. They didn't. And I'm especially sad that this marks three years since my other sister has spoken to me, and I still have no idea what I did.

Christmas is supposed to be a time for love and joy, but this year, I just didn't feel it. Instead I felt the gaping hole that death, rifts and distance have caused. Maybe next year things will be different. At sixty-six, I hope I'm here. The passing of my ex showed me just how fleeting life is, but you know what...as long as I draw a breath, Christmas will always be my favorite time of the year, and no one can dim my belief. No one! Those who don't believe are the ones who seem to have a gaping hole where their faith should be.

Dear Santa from Jim Whitaker

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 23:30:00 PST

Dear Santa,

I’m only 54 years old so I tried to get someone bigger than me to write this for me. They all declined.

I should write this letter asking you the great requests of the Christmas season. But you know, I’m just not so sure.

It’s not that I don’t believe in you in the sense of your spirit of generosity and ho-ho-ho and all the fine qualities you expound for as long as you’re around. It’s just that..

If I ask you for peace for all, you can’t deliver that.

If I ask you for brotherhood for all, you can’t deliver that.

If I ask you for serenity for all, you can’t deliver that.

If I ask you for an end to poverty to prejudice, to backstabbing, to hate, to exclusion, to intolerance, to apathy, to cruelty to loneliness, to aggressiveness and violence or to any of the other abhorrent characteristics of unfeeling humanity you can’t deliver, can you?
All right, Santa, because you’re such a nice guy I’ll give you this much.

Your red suit and white beard and belly laugh - not to mention your belly - make people feel good. They smile when they see you in the mall and think of the accepted folly of you flying in a reindeer-pulled sleigh around the world in one night, without a passport no less. Well, except for that 3-year-old on your lap the other day who was absolutely terrified by that red suit, white beard and especially the belly laugh. Has your knee recovered from the kick he gave you trying to break free?

People enjoy pretending to be you or one of your industrious elves. I’ve worn the red suit and fake beard myself and looked into faces that while I ho-ho-hoed were dissolving into belief where before there was considerable doubt about your existence and meaning.

Pretending to be you made me feel sustained and worthwhile for a while. And, like many others, I grasp that feeling anew when 1 sign “From Santa” and not my own name to a gift I give.

But Santa Baby your time is seasonal and your effect measured in mere weeks, days and hours and in songs people don’t want to hear anymore after midnight Dec. 25.

How much more glorious would it be if every person who looks to you even for the moment would look wholeheartedly to the one whose birth Christmas Day celebrates? Even if at the same time denying the deity of Jesus, what would happen if they truly embraced the teachings and the life and the examples of Jesus?

Wouldn’t the world be at peace, Santa, because there just wouldn’t be any need for the things that fuel war?

Wouldn’t brotherhood thrive, Santa, because that would be the only accepted way of treating others?

Wouldn’t people care enough about each other, Santa, to eliminate poverty?

Wouldn’t people no longer feel a need for aggressiveness or greed or violence, Santa, to make themselves feel safe or secure?

And wouldn’t cruelty be replaced, Santa, with kindness and forgiveness and sacrifice for others?

Following the life of Christ is indeed hard for an individual, Santa. Yet the good in the result for the many would be beyond measure.

So, Santa, don’t take offense. While you’re here, while you last, I’ll enjoy your company. I’ll sit up Christmas Eve and watch the fireplace for your entrance, if you want. Although the last 43 years 1 have to admit have been a little disappointing in that regard.

My Christmas wish, though, my real Christmas wish is that more people embrace the Life that could truly make all those worthwhile Christmas wishes spoken by so many lips come gloriously true.

How about it, Santa?
Love,
Jim
PS. Milk and chocolate chip cookies, my house, Christmas Eve. At least there better be.
****

My special thanks to Jim Hill for so graciously sharing the spirit of the season with me. I asked his permission to post this today, since his letter to Santa so eloquently sums up what most of us wish for. To find out more about Jim, the author and columnist, I add his email signature line for your convenience. He's a treasure:

Jim Whitaker
"Hill of Beans" Author, Columnist,
Staff Writer Cynic Online Magazine
My book is available at
www.whiskeycreekpress.com,
at www.amazon.com
and http://www.barnesandnoble.com

Awakenings: Cozumel, Mexico by Mark Casigh

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 08:56:43 PST

Mysti didn't have a clue what her life had been missing when an escape to Mexico took her to Cozumel. She learned things about herself that amazed her. She learned to do things with her body and have things done to her body that she had never known existed and that caused her such unimaginable, piercing pleasure. Her sexuality and sensuality are truly set free.

Review:

They should've printed this book on asbestos pages! This book is so HOT, it's hard to hold on to! Man! The scenes are so vividly portrayed here, it makes the reader feels as though they are in the room with the characters! Phenomenal writing!

From the Author:

This is a story of a Middle Aged Divorce` and her awakening after a lifetime's sexual slumber and the whole new world of life that she finds open to her. Laid out, spread out before life a buffet, for her tasting, her sampling, her choosing, her consumption. Follow Misty through her development in my new series.

Awakenings: Cozumel, Mexico is available at Eternal Press.

To The Jolly Fat Man in the Red Suit

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 03:09:02 PST

Dear Santa,

I know it's last minute and all, but I wonder if you can bring me the thing I really need most right now...my muse. While you're at it, can you please bring a leash so I can keep track of her...or him. The sweet little darling keeps wandering off and leaving me and Hattie, high and dry. My muse is what/who keeps story ideas flowing, and usually speaks through my main character. Since I'm a pantser...what? You don't know what a pantser is? It's said that we in that category write by the 'seat of our pants' instead of plotting out our stories. In other words, I sit at the computer, fingers poised on the keyboard and wait for my heroine to tell me her story. I'm not hearing anything and that's not good.

Hattie either stepped on a rusty nail along the Oregon trail and got a severe case of lockjaw, or I'm stalled again. I've been trying to 'show' this story...oh, I've probably confused you again. As an author, we 'show' our readers the story, rather than telling it. In my books, you'll smell the gingerbread, feel the wind against your chubby little cheeks, enjoy the warmth and crackling of the fireplace...oops...maybe that's not a good idea at this time of the year. Don't want to sear those other chubby little cheeks. *lol*

But I digress. I've been trying to show this story for months now. Even have the cover art ready, but fat lot of good it'll do me if I can never finish the first draft. You know, I'm not getting any younger here, and neither are you. Thought about retirement yet? Let me tell you, it's not all it's cracked up to be. I was more productive when I had a career...and more organized. Last year I had a ton of new releases, this coming year...nothing, nada, zip, nil, zero!

So, if you have room in that big ol' velvet bag of yours, can you please cram my muse on top and schedule it for drop off here in Gallatin? Although I don't set goals for the new year, I do hope to jumpstart Hattie again and keep her moving. At this rate she's never going to get to California. Why don't I set goals, you ask? Past experience shows failure to meet them depresses me. Why set myself up for more stress? Oh, and speaking of stress, a little Xanax too, if you have room.

I guess it would be rude of me not to include my best wishes for a joyous holiday season, although it doesn't sound like you're going to get much best until the 26th. Happy flying and Feliz Navidad. (listening to the song on Pandora.)

Kathryn's Christmas Memories

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 00:00:04 PST

Christmas Memories
By author Kathryn Meyer Griffith

My real childhood Christmas memories, in fact most of my holiday memories, essentially began in my ninth year. Oh, I have memories, scattered and muted, of earlier times but none as crystalized as those after that year. That’s because months earlier on a sultry hot August day around my ninth birthday I almost died; the whole experience changed my young life forever from that time on.
It was early August 1959 – a terribly hot and long summer pre-air-conditioning – and I lived with my six siblings, mother and father, in a rambling run-down house near St. Louis. We didn’t have much money or material possessions, wore hand-me-downs and sometimes we didn’t have lunch money or even a working telephone. Our utilities were often cut off for lack of payment, things would disappear from the house and into the pawn shop and a car would one day be ours and the next not. But we had each other and…love.
My maternal grandmother, Mary Fehrt (joy bringer and storyteller of her generation) was always there for us when it came to providing the things we desperately needed; care packages of food and cash. As much as they could give because they weren’t rich either, but frugal; both worked long grueling hours at a dry cleaner. They’d gone through the Great Depression and could stretch a dollar. I always thought it ironic they’d responsibly had just one child, my mother, Delores, but she gave them seven grandchildren. I thought of my family as a modern day Walton’s. Heck, we even had a writer John Boy (me…though I was an artist and a singer with my brother Jim before I became one) and a musician, Jason (my brother Jim), a loving mother and father and a generous grandmother and grandfather. We were poor but happy. A good hearted family.
Anyway, that August I got sick. My side hurt and I lay moaning on the couch for three days while my mother and father agonized if I should be taken to the ER. Money we didn’t have. In the end, my mother won out and they took me. I had a bad case of appendicitis and the doctors, as they rushed me into the operating room, told my parents if they’d waited another hour the appendix would have burst and I might have died. Died.
Thank God, I didn’t. Afterwards I languished in a hot hospital room (I can still smell the antiseptic, bloodied bandages and feel the pain of the stitches to this day). Ech.
My ninth birthday was two days after I returned home and my family, relieved I was alive, showered me with gifts. A brownie camera. Art supplies. Homemade cake and ice cream. Everyone was there. I, for once, was the center of attention and loved it. I look back now and realize that was the beginning of wanting to be different, to stand out, make a difference in the world, to shine, and shortly after that I began drawing pictures and singing with my brother on the rusted backyard swing set.
The holidays that year were different for me and my family as well. Thanksgiving was full of grateful laughter, a huge roasted turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes and marshmallows (my favorite) and lots of my father’s special treats, nuts and tangerines. I was acutely aware of everything. I was looking at the world through new eyes and was excited at the life I’d been given back. Happy. Thankful for my loving family.
Christmas was a child’s sweet fantasy. Christmas Eve, as the snowflakes, the temperature and the night’s amethyst twilight fell, my brothers, sisters, mother, father and I piled into my Dad’s big Buick and drove through the woods and neighborhoods of twinkling lit up houses to our grandmother and grandfather’s house. We usually stayed home on Christmas Eve and opened our presents the next morning when our grandparents arrived. Not that year. Dad and mom announced it was special and we were going to grandma’s house. Opening our presents there that night. Yippee! What child didn’t want presents early. Sooner the better.
It was snowing heavily by the time we drove into their driveway and I can still see what I saw as a child as I walked wide-eyed into grandma’s house (my grandmother loved the holidays and had twinkling Christmas lights, the big fat old-fashioned bulbs, strung along the front of their house and there were decorated Christmas trees in every room). My grandmother had outdone herself and there wasn’t corner of her home that wasn’t full of Christmas.
We traipsed downstairs and into a Christmas wonderland. Grandpa had gone out and cut a huge pine tree that stood at the end of their 50’s remodeled basement in all its glory. On its fragrant limbs hung hundreds of cherished family heirloom ornaments and beneath it were piles of brightly wrapped presents, more than I’d ever seen in my life, and a miniature Christmas village with a tiny train that chugged noisily around a little metal track, blowing its whistle. The whole glittering sight took my breath away.
They made us kids sit on the floor and handed out our presents one by one. Grandma and grandpa had gone overboard, as always, and I remember sitting there unwrapping present after present and crying because I’d gotten so many of the things I’d wanted. A large drawing tablet. Colored pencils. Pastels. A watercolor set. A sparkly (some of you remember those don’t you?) paint-by-number of winter sunsets. A new blouse. A big bag of my favorite nuts, cashews. All for me. I was in seventh heaven. The other kids did pretty well, too. By today’s standards, nothing much, but small trucks, cars, new clothes and dolls meant a lot to us.
I gave my grandmother and grandfather a set of porcelain fishes; my mother an inexpensive necklace and father some gloves. My brothers, sisters and I had gone out on a cold night days earlier to the local five and dime and picked out what we could afford, not much, but it was given from the heart. After the gifts we sat down at the long table full of grandma’s delicious food and ate, laughed, and made memories as the snow continued to drift outside the windows. Later, stuffed, content and exhausted mom and dad loaded us all into the Buick and slowly drove us home on the slick streets. Magic. I’ll never forget that night and the joy of my large family. The love. It’d sustain us through the hard and bad times to come and to this day gives me a smile and a catch in my throat whenever my thoughts touch it. Merry Christmas everyone! ***
Written a lifetime away on this nineteenth October day of 2011 by 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. Learn more about her at www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith or www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffith or www.bebo.com/kathrynmeyerG and http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1019954486
Her published novels & short stories:
Evil Stalks the Night (Leisure 1984; Damnation Books 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 out Februry 2012)
Vampire Blood (Zebra 1991; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out July 2011)
The Last Vampire (Zebra 1992; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition 2010)
Witches (Zebra 1993; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition 2011)
The Nameless One (short story 1993 Zebra Anthology Dark Seductions;
Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition 2011)
The Calling (Zebra 1994; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 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 2011)
Winter's Journey (The Wild Rose Press 2008; Author’s Revised Edition 2011)
The Ice Bridge (The Wild Rose Press 2008; Author’s Revised Edition 2011)
Don't Look Back, Agnes short story (2008; ghostly short story Eternal Press Jan. 2012)
In This House (ghostly short story 2008; Eternal Press January 2012)
BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons (Damnation Books June 2010)
The Woman in Crimson (Damnation Books 2010)
The Complete Guide to Writing Paranormal Novels: Volume 1 2011 (I wrote the foreword) ***

Welcome Beth Trissel

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 23:30:01 PST

The old Virginia home place where my father was born and raised and I grew up visiting over the holidays has inspired more than one story. I spent some wonderfully memorable Christmas’s in that beautiful plantation home (circa 1816) but the ones I’m most sentimental about were in the late 1960’s. Drawn to that era, I set my recent Christmas romance, Somewhere the Bells Ring, in 1968 during the tumultuous age of hippies, Vietnam, and some of the best darn rock music ever written. Fashion was all over the place in those days and fishnet hose all the rage. I gloried in my first pair while wearing my Bonnie Bell lip gloss that I received for Christmas. Think I was more excited about those gifts than any others. The maxi dress followed on the heels of the maxi skirt, which I was all about. Mom sewed several for me and I floated around like the Christmas queen. The music of the late 60’s was awesome. What a thrill when I first heard Innagadadavida by Iron Butterfly. Stunned might be a better word, but it definitely impressed me as did many other songs of that era.

Not to overlook the less positive elements of “68, like Vietnam and the tragic assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. I was deeply sorry, but as a kid didn’t overly dwell on those. One of the top films of 1968 was Romeo and Juliette which stamped me as a romantic forever and brings me back to my new release.

Not only did that nostalgic time period beckon to me but also an earlier one, 1918 and the end of World War One. Not in the way of battle scenes, but in the form of a wounded soldier recently returned from war-weary France who lives in the house. I’ve seen the early 20th century family photos discovered in the attic, along with other treasures and memorabilia, and often pondered that bygone age, gracious in many ways apart from the war. Having a Marine Corps Captain grandfather who distinguished himself during the thick of the fighting in France during The Great War and then tragically died when my father was only three definitely influenced this story–dedicated to the grandfather I never knew, but grieved all the same.

But the biggest influence was the poignant dream I had years ago about a young woman visiting this house during the Christmas holidays and the mysterious gentleman she met. His profound sadness made a deep impression on me, as did the gentleman himself, and the young lady who reached out to him. That dream nagged at me every Christmas until I finally wrote their story. So, if you enjoy an intriguing mystery with Gothic overtones and heart-tugging romance set in vintage America then Somewhere the Bells Ring is for you. And did I mention the ghost?

Blurb: Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative's ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn't so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope--until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe--in Bailey and the ghost--before the Christmas bells ring?

*Image above of old family home this story is based on.
*Available in various eBook formats from The Wild Rose Press, Amazon Kindle, All Romance Ebooks, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook and other online booksellers.
*For more on me please visit my blog: http://bethtrissel.wordpress.com/

Welcome Both Sides of Adriana Kraft

noreply@blogger.com (Ginger Simpson) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 23:30:00 PST

Who Exactly is Adriana Kraft?

To start with, “I” am actually “we” – my husband and I co-write erotic romance under our pen name, Adriana Kraft. So when you see me out and about on the web using what looks like the “Royal We,” I’m not being regal, I’m just owning our combined reality!

We see ourselves as niche authors, so today I thought I’d share with you how we define our own special corner of the erotic romance world. Here are the SEO tags we most identify with:

Erotic Needs no introduction, defines everything we write. Explicit sex scenes created to evoke arousal and enjoyment.

Romance Happy endings, always. Satisfying, never tragic, always upbeat at the end. The erotic scenes are not gratuitous but always part of a story that leads somewhere. It may be happy-for-now, but the reader will be pleased the characters got it together.

Boomers Many of our characters are Baby Boomers. We don’t limit ourselves to this age range, but since we claim it as our own, we write stories that celebrate sex and vibrant living across the age spectrum.

Couples We are a married couple, and we write for couples (married or otherwise, straight or LGBT). We craft scenes that appeal to both genders, scenes that invite fantasizing, scenes that can be part of foreplay, scenes that lead to one of our favorite lines from a reviewer of Colors of the Night, our very first published book: “the reader will no doubt want either a partner or a bucket of toys close at hand.”

Bisexual Heroines for lots of reasons. Because both of us enjoy reading and writing scenes involving two (or more) women together. Because there’s evidence that as we age, we become more sexually fluid. Because for some couples, if she wants him to read erotic romance together in bed, reading about two women may help entice him into the story. Because it’s fun.

Swingers Because the fantasy of ménage is so tantalizing. Because swinging offers so many opportunities for decadent lovemaking, for taking turns being the sole focus of two, three or more other people, for sharing pleasure, enjoying voyeurism, giving one’s partner a special gift. Check out our Swinging Games series at Extasy for a peek at how one Baby Boomer couple heats up their sex life!

Polyamory Sometimes, as in swinging, ménage is about recreational sex, but sometimes it’s about three or more persons falling in love, sorting out the intricacies of the relationship combinations, and making long term commitments. We write a world where such dreams can come true. You can check out our Christmas Story, Santa’s Boss, for a three-way happy ending!

Sexual Freedom We’re not fond of the term “promiscuous” and prefer to champion consensual freedom of sexual expression as a healthy approach to sexuality. We know this requires deep trust and open, honest communication, especially when sexual freedom takes place within the context of committed relationships.

Our most recent release at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, Ripening Passion, fits most of these tags. Here’s the blurb and a SFW excerpt. If you’d like a little more spice, another excerpt is available HERE.

BLURB: RIPENING PASSION

Claire Johnson’s dedication to sex—the cornerstone of her career—led her to found the Center for Sexuality and Sex Practices. Now in her fifties, she knows the Center must keep pace with the rapidly growing Baby Boomer market, so she agrees to go back on camera for a series on sex and aging. But work with her nemesis?

Former English Professor Max Wilson has championed the cause of the Center ever since his deceased wife sought the Center’s help to rekindle the nearly extinguished sexual flames of their relationship. He loves working on camera and welcomes the challenge to perform with the svelte but feisty temptress.

Sparks fly immediately on and off camera. Can either Claire or Max transform those sparks into a fire of sexual desire for their viewers? And if they succeed, what will happen when the movie’s over?

EXCERPT: Let’s drop in on Max and Claire near the beginning. They’ve been sent to a conference on sex and aging in Monterey. It’s evening, and there’s a sunset on the beach…

“Can we walk a little?” Claire grabbed Max’s hand as if it was the most natural thing to do.

They carried their shoes and strolled across the wet, firm sand. Only the sounds of gulls calling and the light slapping of the waves filled their ears.

Her fingers strangely warmed his. Did his warm hers?

BUY LINKS FOR RIPENING PASSION

Whiskey Creek Amazon Fictionwise

Thanks for stopping by ~ and please leave a comment. We’d love to know if your niche fits our niche!

Where to find Adriana Kraft

Website: http://www.adrianakraft.com/

Blog: http://www.adrianakraft.com/blog

FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/people/Adriana-Kraft/100001944980679

Twitter http://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

Newsletter http://groups.yahoo.com/group/adrianakraftnewsletter/

Adriana’s Author Pages at Amazon.com and All Romance Ebooks