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Saturday, September 29, 2012
Cathy Brockman and her Muses Interview Me Today
Delightful interview today at the studio of author Cathy Brockman, and her Muses. Thank you for the invite, Cathy. Join us athttp://cathybrockman.com/interview-for-doug-simpson/#.UGbTF5hqTj4
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Thursday, September 20, 2012
A Heart Not Easily Broken - Hot Off The Press
Today's guest is the lovely M.J. Kane whose novel A Heart Not Easily Broken has just been released today. Welcome M.J.!!
A Heart Not Easily Broken
Ebony is a smart,
sexy, career-oriented black woman who wants nothing more than a summer fling
with a man who challenges her mind and body. What she doesn’t expect is a blond
haired, blue-eyed bass player—who won’t take “no” for an answer—to accept the
challenge.
When Ebony’s attempt
at a brief fling turns into more, despite negative reactions from friends and
family, she finds juggling love, family, and career are nothing compared to the
ultimate betrayal she endures. Now her dreams spiral into lies and secrets that
threaten her future and her best friend’s trust.
Excerpt from A Heart Not Easily Broken:
The song ended, and I opened my eyes to cheer with the rest
of the crowd. I was noticed all right. Various men in my immediate vicinity
threw out catcalls and whistles, which were flattering, but the drummer paid me
no attention. In fact, no one in the band seemed to notice me, except for one
man.
One of the guitar players watched me intently. Astonished, I
nearly stumbled in my heels. He was attractive but… he was white, not what I
was aiming for. My lips tilted in a small smile before I moved out of his line
of sight, placing myself in front of dancers who’d moved closer to the stage
blocking my view of the drummer.
The next song played, and again, I tried to get lost in the
music. My eyes closed, it was impossible to find my groove again without
feeling stalked. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, drawing my attention
down the length of the stage and to the guitar player, who once again, watched
me with a predatory gleam in his eye.
When the song ended, I worked my way back
to the bar.
Neither Yasmine nor Kaitlyn were there. They must have gone to the bathroom.
“What can I get you, miss?” the bartender asked,
interrupting my thoughts.
Music from the loud speakers blasted again, after the MC
announced the band was taking a brief intermission.
“Margarita, extra shot of tequila, please.” The bartender
nodded and went to fill my order.
“Did you get a load of the blond guitar player? He’s hot!”
My attention turned to a busty brunette who’d taken up
temporary residence in the empty seat next to me. I recognized her as being one
of the women who’d been dancing next to me. She adjusted her
boobs, primping
while talking to her friend.
“He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going home with him
tonight,” she continued. Her friend giggled.
Good luck. She had
a better chance than I did of finding a man tonight.
“Here you go.” The bartender placed a napkin in front of me
with my drink.
“I’ve got this,” a deep voice said close to my ear, making
me jump. It was incredibly sexy despite the fact it scared me. It also sent a
warm tingle down my spine. Intrigued, I turned and found myself face-to-face
with the guitar player. The same one my barstool neighbor wanted to go home
with.
Any sort of coherent words failed me.
Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com books@5princebooks.com
Release Date: September 20 2012
Digital ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-02-8 ISBN 10: 1939217024
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-939217-03-05 ISBN 10: 1939217032
Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.htm
Bio for M.J. Kane:
M.J. Kane stumbled into writing. An avid
reader, this stay at home mom never lost the overactive imagination of an only
child. As an adult she made up stories, though never shared them, to keep
herself entertained. It wasn’t until surviving a traumatic medical incident in
2006 that she found a reason to let the characters inhabiting her imagination
free. Upon the suggestion of her
husband, she commandeered his laptop and allowed the characters to take life.
It was that, or look over her shoulder for men caring a purple strait jacket.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
No longer a television addict, if M.J. isn’t
reading a book by one of her favorite authors, she’s battling with her creative
muse to balance writing and being a wife and mother. She resides in the suburbs
of Atlanta, Georgia with her high school sweetheart, four wonderful children,
and two pit bulls. MJ can often be found hanging out at the local library where
she is director of a local writer’s group, or online connecting with readers and
other authors. Other activities she enjoys include: creating custom floral
arrangements, assisting her children in their creative pursuits of music and
art, and supporting her husband’s music production business, 3D Sounds.
You can find MJ on social networking sites,
sharing writing tips, talking about music, life, and family. She’s always
excited to meet new people. Connect with her via the websites below.
Author Contact Info:
MJ Kane:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/MJKaneBooks
FB Author: https://www.facebook.com/MJButterflyBooks
The Butterfly Memoirs Series:
Blog: Blog: http://thebutterflymemoirs.blogspot.com/
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Have You Ever Met Your Angel?
Have you ever met your Angel? Some people have. Read about it at
http://www.examiner.com/article/a-true-believer-meets-his-angel?cid=db_articles
Thursday, September 13, 2012
The Unanticipated Inspiration Behind the Godling Chronicles
Today's guests are the unusual, father and son team of fantasy creators - Brian D. and Jonathan Anderson who will share the story behind The Godling Chronicles. Welcome Brian and Jon!
Jonathan Anderson was
born in March of 2003. His creative spirit became evident by the age of three
when he told his first original story. In 2010 he came up with the concept for
The Godling Chronicles that grew into an exciting collaboration between father
and son. Jonathan enjoys sports, chess, music, games, and of course, telling
stories.
HOW “THE GODLING
CHRONICLES” CAME TO BE
(BY BRIAN D. ANDERSON)
A couple of years ago, I
was working on a rather dark project. The fact of the matter is that most of my
writing was dark back then. I was at a crucial part of the story and had been
laboring over it for hours. Suddenly, Jonathan (my son) burst through the door,
home from school, excited; more excited than
usual. When I asked him why, he explained that he had come up with an idea for
a story, and was desperate to tell me about it. At first I was a bit irritated.
I was on a roll and didn't really want to stop what I was doing. But, not
wanting to be a “bad dad,” I smiled and listened.
If you
want to know what he told me, you need only read the prologue of Book One. I
wrote down action for action what he said. I naturally adjusted the language to
a more adult tone, and added the dialogue, but the sequences were all his. By
the time he finished, I had forgotten all about my dumb book and was
captivated. He went on to explain the main character (including his name) and
the general idea for the story. ALL THAT FROM THE MIND SEVEN YEAR OLD BOY!!!
Right
then, I knew that an idea like that could not be left to waste. I abandoned my
book and set to work. Admittedly, Jonathan lost interest soon after and moved
on to things more fun than watching his old man type. Still, from time to time
I would read it to him, and get his opinion. He loved watching it take shape,
and relished the idea that other people would one day read it.
When my
first publisher picked up what came to known as The Godling Chronicles, I was
elated. I had never been more proud of my son, and I must admit...myself. The
day the first copies arrived at our house and I looked in the back to see our
picture, it really hit me what had happened. For years I had written dark,
cerebral stories that only I and a few others might enjoy. Looking back I see
my old work as less of a story, and more of an academic exercise in self-indulgence.
And though I had always had a love of fantasy, I had never had been able to
write it effectively. That is, until now. It was as if my son had unlocked
something deep inside of me. Something I had always hoped was there, but had
resigned myself to believing it was not.
Now I
am free to write and create without the burden of doubt...and it is all thanks
to my inspiration...the light of my life...my son. I know that one day, he will
be something special. With a mind like his I see only success in his future.
I'm certain that one day the world will know the name Jonathan Anderson.
AUTHOR BIO’S
Brian
D. Anderson was born in 1971, and grew up in the small town of Spanish Fort, A.
He attended Fairhope High, then later Springhill College where his love for
fantasy grew into a lifelong obsession. His hobbies include chess, history, and
spending time with his son.
THE
GODLING CHRONICLES (BOOK ONE): THE SWORD OF TRUTH
It
has been five hundred years since the Great War between Elf and Human ripped
the world apart, and the Dark Knight of Angrääl has stolen the Sword of Truth.
With it, he has trapped the Gods in heaven. If left unchallenged he will kill
the Gods and reshape the world into an unimaginable hell. The only hope for all
of creation is a boy named Gewey Stedding, the only being born from the union
of two Gods. Aided by Lee Starfinder, the son of Saraf, God of the Sea, and a
mortal woman, he must discover the true nature of his power. However, this will
not be easy. He is bound to the earth a mortal man, and in many ways is very
human. When Kaylia, a young elf woman, joins their party, Gewey discovers that
perils of the heart can be as treacherous as any sword. Gewey, Lee, Kaylia and
other friends they meet on their journey, must battle the Dark Knight, find a
way to heal the hatred between elf and man, and restore heaven itself.
“THE GODLING CHRONICLES (BOOK ONE)” BUY LINKS:
BRIAN D. ANDERSON’S LINKS:
Brian’s
Twitter: @GodlingChron
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Carmen DeSousa Premieres Entangled Dreams
Launch Day for Carmen DeSousa's ENTANGLED DREAMS
Today is LAUNCH DAY of Carmen DeSousa's third book with 5 Prince Publishing, ENTANGLED DREAMS. Life is not a fairy tale and again, Carmen brings to us likeable characters who are flawed and the reader cheers them on until the end.
Prologue
When Alexandra Nicole was eight, she thought she was a princess in a fairytale. But after a tragic accident shatters her magical life, she finds herself in a cold and heartless reality.
As an adult, she once again faces harsh truths and decides to take control of her destiny. Unfortunately, choices have a way of entangling her dreams and pushing her down a dark and dismal path.
Alexandra must trust her instincts to escape danger, but be able to surrender all to find her happily ever after. Knowing how to decipher the difference, will be her toughest challenge.
While Carmen DeSousa does not write "Christian" books, she does share her characters' Christian beliefs. Her characters are real people who come with real flaws; no perfect people allowed.
She characterizes her stories as modern-day fairytales, as they are overflowing with romance, mystery, suspense, and of course, tragedy. After all, what would a fairytale be without a tragic event setting the stage? All of her novels are sensual, but not erotic, gripping but not graphic and will hopefully make you cry, laugh, love, and hope.
Both of her published novels, She Belongs to Me and Land of the Noonday Sun, have reached bestseller status right alongside Nicholas Sparks, J.D. Robb, and other great authors.
Enjoy the prologue of ENTANGLED DREAMS
Prologue
As a child, Alexandra Nicole was a princess in a fairytale. Her royal family would spend every Sunday on the pristine beaches of Destin together. Her father, the king, would carry her on his shoulders, pretending to be her noble steed as he pranced around at her behest. He would battle dragons, the vicious Chihuahua that chased them; conquer new worlds, also known as a sand dune further down the beach; and build elaborate castles, well actually, sandcastles.
If her father was the king, then her mother was most definitely the queen. She would laugh softly under her umbrella as she watched Alexandra and her father roll in the gentle surf. When her mother did venture into the crystal-clear waters of the Gulf of Mexico, her long, platinum hair would blow softly in the breeze, her blue eyes sparkled like the water below her, and her skin glistened from the ever-present sunshine in their lives.
But alas, as in any good fairytale, everything good and wonderful must come to an end.
After the tragic accident that snatched her mother away from Alexandra, her father moved them away from the beaches of Destin to another beach in Florida. Cocoa Beach.
Cocoa Beach was loud, the water murky, and there were no weekend adventures as there had been in Destin.
Her father married her evil stepmother, Lilith, who Alexandra was certain was a witch with her long, black as midnight hair and pale-white skin as if she’d never seen sunlight. Her father had admitted he wasn’t in love with Cruella, as she had come to think of the witchy woman, but that he’d wanted Alexandra to have a mother and siblings.
Well, she definitely got that.
The king started staying out later and later at night, and the princess had to do excessive amounts of chores around her new castle. Her stepmother treated her like a pariah; certainly, she’d rather have the dogs at their dinner table. Her stepsisters were ugly inside and out and were forever jealous of Alexandra and her golden-blonde tresses. Anything nice Alexandra ever received mysteriously disappeared.
Alexandra knew something was wrong with her father, but she was too young to understand. Her father, forever the happy-go-lucky guy, had turned to drinking to drown his troubles.
It sounds like your typical fairytale, but it isn’t. There are no furry creatures to help the princess prepare a gown for the prom, no fairy godmother to waive her magic wand and produce glass slippers. In fact, at age sixteen Alexandra found herself living on her own with no family contact and no prospects of a healthy, normal life.
Alexandra had only one advantage, if you could call it that. Alexandra was beautiful. But so far, her beauty had not opened any doors; actually, it had only caused her misery.
The only people who welcomed Alexandra were the outcasts. The parents of other losers in school fortunately didn’t care who slept over and what they did when they stayed the night. So, Alexandra Nicole, now deciding to go by Nicky, as she was no longer a princess, found herself wandering from house to house throughout her remaining high school years.
And then she met him… Saturday, September 8, 2012
Can We See Time Fly By?
My First Blog Tour made it to the Finish Line
When I signed up to participate in the Tasha Turner
Coaching/Master Koda Virtual Blog Tour I had no idea what I was getting into.
As a reasonably new author, I had started a blog because I was expected to
start a blog. So, now I had a blog but I had no idea what I was supposed to do
with it. It just sat there for a few months, collecting dust, and then I
spotted the notice for this blog tour. Sounded like a wonderful idea – let a
bunch of people who know what they are doing write interesting articles or
posts for my blog and attract a lot of visitors or followers to my site. Brilliant
idea! Then I got to the part where it said that each week I had to write
something exciting to post on someone else’s blog. Dumb idea! I procrastinated
for a while and finally talked myself into it. Smart move!
What did you learn
from your first blog tour? I knew somebody was going to come along and ask
that! I must be psychic, too.
1. I am a survivor! The notion of dropping out of the tour
crossed my mind a few times, but the little voice in my head informed me – It
ain’t gonna’ happen, Bub! Get to work on the next assignment, PDQ!
2. I am more versatile than I ever imagined I could be. I
learned to write, and usually even enjoyed writing, about topics that I never
in a millions years would have considered writing about on my own. Boy, was
that a confidence builder!
3. I have met and acquired a whole group of wonderful new
friends on this four month journey, both tour participants and non-participants
who became faithful followers. Yes, I mean you!
4. I now know that my blog will survive as I will continue
to welcome volunteer bloggers to write something exciting for my blog. Yes, I
mean you!
Thank You! I
would like to formally thank The Coach, Tasha Turner, for coming up with this
brilliant idea of starting a blog tour for us rookie writers. I am sure we all
learned a lot. Some of us were more experienced than others but I have no doubt
that we all learned throughout our mutual journey. Tasha could not have pulled
off this miracle without a team of assistant coaches who willingly shared the
load and spared Tasha’s shoulders. Thank you one and all!
Till our paths cross again
Doug Simpson
Doug Simpson is a retired high school
teacher who has turned his talents to writing. His first novel, a spiritual
mystery titled Soul Awakening, was published in the United States in October of
2011, by Book Locker. Check it out at http://booklocker.com/books/5754.html.
It is available in print and eBook format through most book stores around the
world. His magazine and website articles have been published in 2010 to 2012 in
Australia, Canada, France, India, South Africa, the United Kingdom, and the
United States. His articles can be accessed through his website at http://dousimp.mnsi.net.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Author Spotlight - On Me!
Doug Simpson will take you to another dimension, not the twilight zone, but for your consideration - Soul Awakening. http://quotidiandose.wordpress.com/2012/09/04/author-spotlight-doug-simpson/
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Busy Bruce Blake Shares a Peek at His Upcoming Novel
Welcome back, Bruce Blake! What have you been up to lately?
At a time when doing promo is paramount,
I've gotten myself behind. You see, I'm releasing my next book on September 30,
and there is lots yet to do. The formatting is almost complete, I'm awaiting
the final proof of the cover, the blurb is not yet written, and I have to find
places to do pre-release promo. Thanks to Doug Simpson and the TTC Virtual Blog
Tour, I have a place to do the last, but the rest is still in process.
So you don't get a blurb, but you do get a
piece of chapter 2.
Excerpt from Blood of the King
A helm clattered off the wall walk, bouncing
end over end down the stairs. It hit Khirro’s foot, startling him and sending a
jolt of pain up his leg. When he looked to see what hit him, he recognized the
dead eyes of a member of the king’s guard staring back at him from within the
helm. A pained grimace twisted the face, blood dripped from severed tendons and
ragged veins. Khirro recoiled, pain flashing down his spine. He kicked at the
head, the sound of his armor scraping stone impossibly loud in his ears. His
toe contacted the helmet painfully, sending it spinning across the landing. It
trailed off blood spatters as it rolled to the edge then disappeared over the
brink. Khirro breathed a sigh of relief.
“Help me.”
Khirro flinched. The king’s plea came again,
a breathy whisper barely audible above the sounds of battle. Chickens ran about
after their heads were removed, but nothing could speak without life remaining
within. Khirro shifted painfully onto his side.
“My king,” he whispered.
Braymon lay in a tangled heap, hips wrenched
farther than possible, one arm pinned beneath him, the other twisted behind.
Blood streamed from his shaven head onto his cheeks and into his eyes, a mask
of red through which little flesh showed. He blinked clearing his vision, a
slow, lethargic movement, then directed his gaze toward Khirro. A pained smile
twitched his lips; it quickly turned to a grimace.
“I thought you lost, lad.”
The blood drained from Khirro’s cheeks.
“No, your highness. I... I was knocked
unconscious. I’ve only just woken to find you here beside me.” The lie tasted
more bitter than the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.
Braymon coughed a fine spray of bloody
spittle. Khirro knew it meant something inside him was bleeding.
“I’ve not much time. I need your help.”
“I owe you my life.”
“Then you can return the favor.”
Fear lumped into a mass at the back of
Khirro’s throat. “What can I do?”
“The healer will know I’ve fallen,” Braymon
said coughing again, face strained with the effort. “Take me to him.”
Relief. He didn’t ask to be avenged or
dragged back to the battle to die a soldier’s death. Khirro glanced at the
blood pooling beneath the king’s contorted body, flowing from some unseen spot
under his plate mail, and pushed himself up to kneel beside Braymon to better
assess his condition. The battle raged above but no one appeared on the stair.
“You shouldn’t be moved,” Khirro said after
consideration. The way the king’s body twisted upon itself made him feel sick.
“It would mean your life.”
Braymon shook his head minutely. “It matters
not. I must get to the healer before the warmth has left my body or all is
lost.”
“I don’t think--”
“Soldier,” Braymon said with a tone of
command befitting a king. “If you do this thing, all else will be forgiven.”
Khirro gaped at the king’s words. He fought
to keep tears at bay as guilt siphoned the strength from his limbs. His mouth
moved trying to form the words to apologize for not rejoining the fight, to beg
forgiveness, to explain, but his constricted throat choked them. Instead, he
nodded.
“You’ll have to remove my armor to carry me.”
Khirro stripped the king’s armor as quickly and quietly as his hurts allowed. Each time he shifted the king, Braymon’s face contorted with deeper levels of pain, but he never cried out, and each piece of armor Khirro removed revealed more horror. The king’s blood-soaked underclothes stuck to him like a second skin; the jagged end of a bone punched through the flesh of one thigh; a loop of intestines protruded from a long cut in his abdomen. As he uncovered each injury, Khirro felt more grateful to be alive and whole and his own injuries seemed less significant. By the time he finished removing all the pieces, the king’s eyes were closed, his face taut with pain, cheeks pale. Khirro had to look closely to ensure he still drew breath.
Khirro stripped the king’s armor as quickly and quietly as his hurts allowed. Each time he shifted the king, Braymon’s face contorted with deeper levels of pain, but he never cried out, and each piece of armor Khirro removed revealed more horror. The king’s blood-soaked underclothes stuck to him like a second skin; the jagged end of a bone punched through the flesh of one thigh; a loop of intestines protruded from a long cut in his abdomen. As he uncovered each injury, Khirro felt more grateful to be alive and whole and his own injuries seemed less significant. By the time he finished removing all the pieces, the king’s eyes were closed, his face taut with pain, cheeks pale. Khirro had to look closely to ensure he still drew breath.
“We’ve no time to lose.” Braymon said in a
strained whisper. “Take me to the center keep.”
Khirro stood, teeth gritted against his own
meager pain. He reached for Braymon but stopped, unsure how to proceed. He saw
no way to pick up the injured man.
“Don’t concern yourself with my pain, it will
end soon enough. Put me over your shoulder.”
A shudder wracked Khirro’s spine as he paused
to look around. A few men ran about the courtyard below, but they were distant.
Above, the fighting reached the top of the stairs. Two Kanosee soldiers—one
wearing gray leather, the other the black breast plate splashed with red—hacked
at soldiers of the king’s army who tried to keep them from the stairway. Khirro
hoped they’d hold them long enough. He bent and hooked the king by the armpits,
struggling to pull the dead weight from the ground. The king clenched his jaw,
every muscle he could control straining to help.
Finally, the king’s limp form flopped over
Khirro’s shoulder. He imagined he felt the soft flesh of his innards through
his leather armor and his stomach flipped, forcing bile into his mouth. He
swallowed it. The pain proved too much for the king and a cry tore from
Braymon’s bloodied lips as his broken body pressed against Khirro’s shoulder.
Khirro looked back up the stairs, hoping no
one heard. At first he thought the Gods with him as the fight continued, but
one of the Erechanians fell and as the gray leather-clad Kanosee pulled his
sword from the man, he leaned toward his companion and pointed down the stair.
A sword flashed and the man fell, but Khirro
saw no more as he turned and rushed down the stairs, focusing on his feet
hitting each one and not over-balancing under the king’s weight.
What
people are saying about Blood of the King:
-
“Blood of the King is a
masterpiece.” “...as close to perfection
as I would consider a book to be.” -
Ella Medler, author of Blood is Heavier
What people are saying about Bruce
Blake:
-
“Blake has a knack for bringing
you into the story...I can honestly say I am a Bruce Blake fan.”
-
“Author Blake creates unique
and interesting characters... a talented indie author.”
-
“Mr. Blake's writing is
masterful and clear, he draws you into his story and when it's finished, you
feel like you're leaving an old friend.”
-
“Bruce Blake is fantastic with
his ability to weave so many elements, twists and turns, into his work...” - Amazon Reader reviews
Biography
Bruce Blake lives
on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like
shovelling snow and building igloos don't take up his spare time, Bruce can be
found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short
stories and novels.
Actually,
Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain
is seen than snow. Since snow isn't really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more
time trying to remember to leave the "u" out of words like
"colour" and "neighbour" then he does shovelling. The
father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of burlesque diva Miss Rosie
Bitts.
Bruce has been
writing since grade school but it wasn't until five years ago he set his sights
on becoming a full-time writer. Since then, his first short story,
"Another Man's Shoes" was published in the Winter 2008 edition of
Cemetery Moon, another short, "Yardwork", was made into a podcast in
Oct., 2011 by Pseudopod and his first Icarus Fell novel, "On Unfaithful
Wings", was published to Kindle in Dec., 2011. The second Icarus Fell
novel, “All Who Wander Are Lost”, was released in July, 2012, and the first
book in the two-part “Khirro's Journey” epic fantasy is scheduled for Sept. 30,
2012. He has plans for at least three more Icarus novels, several stand alones,
and a possible YA fantasy co-written with his eleven-year-old daughter.
Bruce Blake's Links
Twitter:
@bruceablake
Kindle: http://amzn.to/GKi7mq
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