In Praise of Research by Bill Zarchy – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Bill Zarchy will be awarding a $50 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In Praise of Research

I had the idea for Finding George Washington when I was a kid. I used to challenge myself: how would I explain the workings of modern technology to George Washington, if he were suddenly to appear? Did I understand the basics of photography or the internal combustion engine well enough to explain them to someone from a pre-industrial culture?

Till recently, all my writing was nonfiction. When I finally decided to try my hand at fiction, I wondered if that old idea about George could be the basis for a charming, funny, perhaps exciting novel. Maybe a goofy, fish-out-of-water story.

Only one problem: I knew very little about Washington. Of course, I knew the broad strokes: Revolutionary War General, first president, married to Martha, lived at Mount Vernon. But what else? I recalled old stories of George as a lad chopping down a cherry tree (but confessing his guilt to his father) and throwing a dollar coin across the Potomac. And didn’t he have wooden teeth?

I realized I needed extensive research.

Those old stories were apocryphal. I learned that the cherry tree incident was fabricated by a later biographer, Parson Weems, who also made up the dollar-toss lie (the Potomac is about a mile wide). And no, his dentures were not made of wood, which would be a terrible material to use for chewing.

I consulted many books and a number of movies. I acquired factual knowledge of George and his world. He was scrupulous about saving his letters and other papers. Those documents (and all those of the Founding Fathers) are now available online, which has spurred a new raft of biographies. I learned a lot about George’s deep passion tempered by extreme self-control and stoicism, his rugged bravery and lifelong suffering from dental pain, his role as Father of Our Country despite having no direct offspring, his gracefulness when dancing or on horseback.

And I had to learn about and deal with the fact that he was a slave owner. This was a complicated issue. He led the fight for freedom from the British, even though he possessed human chattel. His manservant, an enslaved person named Billy Lee, rode into battle with George and stayed with him throughout the Revolution.

I learned that, in his will, George freed Billy Lee by name and promised to free his slaves once Martha also died. But George only owned about a third of the 300+ slaves at Mount Vernon. The rest belonged to the estate of Martha’s first husband or were descendants of their intermarried offspring. After her death, George’s slaves were freed, but the others were sold off separately, families tragically torn apart.

Since my other main characters (and my readers!) would be spending so much time with George, I also wanted to know what it was like to be in his presence. I learned that he was quite tall and athletic for his era, was soft-spoken in person, had blue eyes, pale skin, and rosy cheeks. I wondered what he sounded like. He was descended from Virginia colonists who had come from England many decades before his birth. Would he have spoken “the King’s English,” what we now think of as a cultured English accent, like a BBC announcer? Or Scottish or Welsh or Cockney or some other British regional accent? Also, what was his relationship like with Martha? How did they address each other?

I consulted with Mary V. Thompson, the Research Historian at Mount Vernon, who gave me some tips to pursue in these areas. The sad fact is that we don’t really know what accent he had. And Martha burned all George’s letters after his death, so we don’t have a lot of clues about the intimacy of their relationship.

Another research decision I made was not to send my characters anywhere I hadn’t been myself. I knew early on that I wanted them to take a long train trip (there’s a locomotive on the cover of the book), but I had never been on an overnight train ride myself. When I told my wife I was considering taking an Amtrak sleeper train to Oregon from our home near San Francisco, she kindly suggested I go instead to my characters’ eventual destination, several nights on the train. This trip yielded hundreds of photos, dozens of videos, a ton of emotional and practical impressions, and a number of characters for my story. Including several villains!

Besides that Amtrak jaunt, I also visited Valley Forge, Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, Mount Vernon, Colonial Williamsburg, the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, the Washington Monument, New York City, Mendocino, the Doe Library at UC Berkeley, Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia, and AT&T Park in San Francisco.

Every trip, every visit was valuable. Museums, historical sites, monuments, libraries, cities, and ballparks all yielded unique information, impressions, artifacts, and visuals for further study. I thought often about John Steinbeck’s book Travels with Charley: In Search of America. I was searching, too — for historical context, texture, backstory, modern-day drama, and details to flesh out my story. I got all that, in spades.

On a freezing night in 1778, General George Washington vanishes. Walking away from the Valley Forge encampment, he takes a fall and is knocked unconscious, only to reappear at a dog park on San Francisco Bay—in the summer of 2014.

Washington befriends two Berkeley twenty-somethings who help him cope with the astonishing—and often comical—surprises of the twenty-first century.

Washington’s absence from Valley Forge, however, is not without serious consequences. As the world rapidly devolves around them—and their beloved Giants fight to salvage a disappointing season—George, Tim, and Matt are catapulted on a race across America to find a way to get George back to 1778.

Equal parts time travel tale, thriller, and baseball saga, Finding George Washington is a gripping, humorous, and entertaining look at what happens when past and present collide in the 9th inning, with the bases loaded and no one warming up in the bullpen.

Enjoy an Excerpt

A new freeze gripped the valley, and a few inches of virgin white covered the now-frozen ruts in the roads. When the soldiers first arrived at this winter encampment two months before, rain and cold had compounded the misery of the men. Lately it had been freezing and snowing, making the hardened ground easier to traverse than the sleety, slippery mud had been.

A small farmhouse made of tan and brown fieldstone sat in flat bottomland near the creek. The back door opened and a splash of warm light lit the new snow. From inside came the sounds of a party—a fiddle, laughter, and high-energy conversation. A tall man in a heavy cloak and three-cornered hat stepped off the small porch at the rear of the house and into the cold. A sentry snapped to attention.

“Just getting some air, lad, stand easy,” the General said. “No need to follow.” He trudged off north, away from the house, enjoying the brisk chill.

Ah, he thought, it’s fine to have my dear wife here with me these past couple of weeks! She and the other wives provide such a boost to the morale and hopefulness of the men. It’s worth a wee party to celebrate the difference they make … and my birthday.

The dreadful winter weather and the spread of disease had cost him one-fourth of his army in the early going, but at last there were signs of hope. Foraging for food was still a daily struggle, but now the men were finally housed in hundreds of hastily constructed wooden huts.

The eager effervescence of the Marquis de Lafayette for the past half year; the appearance of the Polish nobleman Pulaski a few months before; the continued loyalty of so many of the troops; the imminent arrival any day now of the Prussian Baron von Steuben; and the General’s wife coming to stay with him during the winter encampment—all these events gave him hope.

About the Author Bill Zarchy filmed projects on six continents during his 40 years as a cinematographer, captured in his first book, Showdown at Shinagawa: Tales of Filming from Bombay to Brazil. Now he writes novels, takes photos, and talks of many things.

Bill’s career includes filming three former presidents for the Emmy-winning West Wing Documentary Special, the Grammy-winning Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em, feature films Conceiving Ada and Read You Like A Book, PBS science series Closer to Truth, musical performances as diverse as the Grateful Dead, Weird Al Yankovic, and Wagner’s Ring Cycle, and countless high-end projects for technology and medical companies.

His tales from the road, personal essays, and technical articles have appeared in Travelers’ Tales and Chicken Soup for the Soul anthologies, the San Francisco Chronicle and other newspapers, and American Cinematographer, Emmy, and other trade magazines.

Bill has a BA in Government from Dartmouth and an MA in Film from Stanford. He taught Advanced Cinematography at San Francisco State for twelve years. He is a resident of the San Francisco Bay Area and a graduate of the EPIC Storytelling Program at Stagebridge in Oakland. This is his first novel.

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What Kind of Writer Am I? by Dianne Hartsock – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Dianne Hartsock will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What kind of writer am I?
I’ve often been asked if I’m a plotter or a panster when I write. Do I painstakingly plot out my stories? Write elaborate character bios? Know every step my characters will take to reach their goal?

Or am I a panster? Put my characters on the page and let them run nilly willy through the storyline doing anything they like. Let them take control and herd them like cats to the finish line.

The truth is that I’m somewhere in between. Long before I put a word on the page, I’m daydreaming about my story. Anything may have inspired me: lyrics to a song that touched me, someone’s eyes, a laugh heard across the room. A line from a movie or a flower or sunset. What ever it was, it set my imagination off and running. I begin with my characters. Who would be in this scene or feel this emotion or enjoy this sunset? Who are they with? Who would not want them to find happiness?

I muse on these characters, expanding from this initial scene. How did they get here? Where are they going? What do I want this story to be about? I write in many genres: erotic romance, paranormal, fantasy, crime, psychological thriller. What would be the best storyline for these characters? What would be the best way to tell their story?

I ponder these questions for a day or a week, trying out different ideas as I go about my regular day. And then suddenly it comes to me. I have the perfect plot for them. By this time most of the characters have introduced themselves to me, their backstory, names, etc. I’ll have a rough idea of the beginning, middle, and ending, and also the pivotal scene, the one that brings meaning to the whole thing.

At this point I’ll start to write, and probably spend more time writing the first few paragraphs then the whole rest of the book put together. These paragraphs are crucial as they set the tone for the remainder of the story. And that opening scene is probably the one I rewrite the most. If I don’t catch a reader straight off the bat, they’ll probably put the book down and move on to the next one that catches their interest.

Once I have the opening scene down (and yes, I’ve actually thrown the whole first chapter of a story away, once the story was completed. It happens) I write the story in a linear way. Each scene builds on the one before it. I’ve never been able to skip and scene and go back to it later. No, not even a sexy times scene. And once I start writing, I try not to think of the story too much when I’m busy with other things. There’ve been times when I find the perfect words while at work, but once I’m at the computer they’re gone or I don’t write the scene as well.

Once the story is completed I’ll read through it two or three times, fine tuning and finding all the mistakes I can before I send it out to seek its fortune.

Thanks for stopping in! I’m curious, what kind of writer are you?

Luka makes a desperate wish and the earth shifts to his will. Regretting it immediately, he tries to undue the sorcery, but it is too late. He asked for hope, and to his horror, all the hope in the world is given into his keeping. He desires nothing more than to return this gift to the world.

Aethan wants to get his hands on the Well of Hope in Luka’s keeping. If he can ransom out hope to others at his whim, the world will be at his feet. Where it belongs.

With the aid of his lover, Rhys, Luka stays one step ahead of Aethan. But Rhys has his own enemy in Aethan, his estranged father.

Rescued by Luka, his sweet, gentle witch, Rhys now stands with him against Aethan. They have vowed to return the Well of Hope to the earth despite all odds, or die trying. For what is life worth, for anyone, without hope?

Enjoy an Excerpt

He missed his lover, though he’d been the one to send him away. Luka had wanted him to find a better life than he could offer, a solitary witch bartering his potions. And he had wanted Rhys safe from his enemies. But he may as well have cut out his own heart when Rhys had left.

Luka sipped his tea, enjoyed its comfort, then heat flushed his skin as he recalled his dream last night, the feel of Rhys in his bed. Rhys had been tender and passionate and welcoming. Luka had cried in his arms, overwhelmed with the joy of it. Had wept again on waking to find himself alone on the hearth, Rhys across the room, reading a book in the morning light spilling through a window, as far away as the years that had separated them.

A bird fluttered past, calling his attention, and Luka’s spirit flew with it, soaring into the sky. The rush of air exhilarated him, and he dropped with a smile back into his body. After hastily setting aside his tea, he pulled a crystal from a pocket and held it up to the faint winter sunlight. He marveled at the earth reflected in glass. Focusing his gaze, his essence slipped easily into the encapsulated world and flew along the pathways, flitting between trees and brush. He scampered with a family of squirrels along a branch, leaping with wild glee from limb to limb.

About the Author:Dianne is the author of m/m romance, paranormal suspense, fantasy adventure, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. She lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. She says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee warming her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

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She’s the One Who Cares Too Much by S.R. Cronin – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. S. R. Cronin will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Coral, the second of seven sisters, has been hiding her affair with the perfect man until her older sister can get her life together. But the perfect man is getting impatient and now she’s gotten pregnant. Coral decides it’s time to consider her own happiness.

But what does she want? The perfect husband turns out to be less than ideal. She adores the small children she teaches but the idea of being a mother fills her with joy. Meanwhile, her homeland is gripped by fear of a Mongol invasion and she can’t stop crying about everything now that she’s with child.

Then a friend suggests the ever-caring Coral possesses a power well beyond what she or anyone else imagines. Does she? And why is the idea so appealing?

When Coral’s big sister loses faith in the army and decides to craft a way to use magic to save Ilari from the Mongols, she decides Coral’s formidable talent is what the realm needs. Can Coral raise a baby, placate an absent military husband who thinks he’s stopping the invasion, and help her sister save her homeland?

Enjoy an Exclusive Excerpt

When Ryalgar arrived at the farm a few days before my wedding, I was happy to have someone to talk to about something other than the upcoming ceremony.

I hung up the freshly washed bedding as she rode up with Sulphur. Once she gave Sulphur her horse to tend to, she hurried over to me, standing behind billowing the sheets with me so we could talk privately for a few minutes as the smell of fresh soap surrounded us

“I’ve learned more about luskies for you,” she whispered, even before she greeted me.

“There’s no need for that.” My reply was cold. Of all the things we needed to talk about, this power I didn’t have was low on the list.

“I’m not so sure. There’s a persistent rumor that we Velka can recognize a luski, but it’s not true. It takes another luski to tell. And it takes another to train a new luski, too.”

“Okay. Why would this matter to me?”

“Because your friend could be right. I’ve learned not all luskies are mothers, at least not in the real sense of the word. The rare man has this talent. A few childless women do, too. It has to do with being a nurturer.”

“So ….”

“So one way to know if you have the talent is to examine how you feel about it. If the idea maybe scares but excites you, odds are good your reaction is for a reason. What I’m saying is based on what I’ve learned, I was wrong. You really could be a luski.”

Just hearing Ryalgar admit to me she’d been wrong was quite an event in our relationship. Yet, this was hardly the time to focus on that.

“I’m getting married in three days. I don’t need this now.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to do anything about it. I’m looking for a luski to talk to you. They’re hard to find; most go to extraordinary pains to hide what they can do. But I’ll find one.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Thanks. I think.”

About the Author:Sherrie Cronin is the author of a collection of six speculative fiction novels known as 46. Ascending and is now in the process of publishing a historical fantasy series called The War Stories of the Seven Troublesome Sisters. A quick look at the synopses of her books makes it obvious she is fascinated by people achieving the astonishing by developing abilities they barely knew they had.

She’s made a lot of stops along the way to writing these novels. She’s lived in seven cities, visited forty-six countries, and worked as a waitress, technical writer, and geophysicist. Now she answers a hot-line. Along the way, she’s lost several cats but acquired a husband who still loves her and three kids who’ve grown up just fine, both despite how odd she is.

All her life she has wanted to either tell these kinds of stories or be Chief Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise. She now lives and writes in the mountains of Western North Carolina, where she admits to occasionally checking her phone for a message from Captain Picard, just in case.

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Night to Dawn 39 presented by Barbara Custer – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Barbara Custer will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The apocalypse of the movie screen and the printed page has become a reality. A microbe threatens humanity, making Corona seem like the common cold. Innocents die to appease young and hungry gods. A doctor feeds the souls of his patients to a demon. Featuring Marge Simon, Lee Clark Zumpe, Margaret L. Carter, Rod Marsden, Matthew Wilson, and other authors.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Lee Clark Zumpe’s “When Shadows Scream”

Durward skulked in the lobby until Byron had disappeared into the parking lot.

Satisfied, he darted back down the corridor and retrieved his harvest from the dirty linen cart. As he plucked the bag from the mound of soiled sheets and sweat-soaked gowns, its contents resumed a fierce struggle, thrashing and clawing at the canvas.

With newly found energy, it vented its plea for freedom in a shrill, bone-chilling screech that echoed throughout the facility.

“Scream all you want. No one here is listening.” Durward slung the wriggling sack over his shoulder.

He started toward the door that led to the tunnels beneath Alameda – toward the old depository he had discovered years ago. He paused outside Room 11. Darnell Jordan waited for him. Durward wondered if he dared perform a second excision in one night. Rarely did he have such an opportunity. Rarely did he have the benefit of complete privacy. It had taken him weeks to collect from the gentleman in Room 13.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he decided to chance it. His Masters would reward him generously. His contributions would accelerate their venture, hasten their arrival.

As the door to Room 11 closed behind Durward, Byron punched in the code on the keypad at the lobby door, waited for the buzzer to sound and crept back in to the building to retrieve his keys. Silence and darkness worked in unison to make the interior atmosphere as unsettling as it had ever seemed.

About the Author: Barbara lives near Phila., PA, retired from her job as a respiratory therapist. Nowadays, she chases Mylar balloons at the supermarket, enjoys a fright flick, or works on horror and science fiction tales. Many of her short stories have appeared in numerous small press magazines. She’s been editor of Night to Dawn Magazine since 2004.

Books by Barbara include When Blood Reigns, Twilight Healer, The Forgotten People, Steel Rose, City of Brotherly Death, Close Liaisons, and Life Raft: Earth. She enjoys bringing her medical background to the printed page and then blending it with supernatural horror. She maintains a presence on Facebook, Twitter, and The Writers Coffeehouse forum. Look for the photos with the Mylar balloons, and you’ll find Barbara.

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The Background of THE JUICE by Janet Stillson – Guest Blog and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Janet Stilson who is visiting with us to celebrate the recent release of her debut novel The Juice. Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book *US only*

*****

Have you ever felt like you’re leading a double existence – living in two worlds at the same time? That’s been my fate for most of my adult years. During the early morning and other stolen hours, I’ve been a creative writer, working on scripts, novels and short stories. And during other periods in the day, I’ve worn the “hat” of a journalist.

As an editor and correspondent, I’ve specialized in chronicling the “adventures” of media companies and their executives for business publications. When chatting with leaders at companies like The Walt Disney Co. or NBCUniversal, I’ve rarely mentioned my passion for fiction. It didn’t seem appropriate, or ethical (from a journalist’s perspective). I had a limited amount of time to talk with high-powered people who had plenty of projects on their plates that I wanted to learn about.

But as the years passed, the wall between my two lives became porous as I started to imagine what big media conglomerates would be like decades from now. And the seeds of my novel, THE JUICE, began to grow.

I started to think about how the ties between government and media might strengthen – and how the public’s sense of the truth could be twisted even more than what we see today.

What if people could order up artificial dreams from large media companies – “dreamisodes” that would be embedded with subliminal marketing messages?

What if women could insert a computer chip under the skin of their arms that would allow them to see holograms of adorable little children that they could conceive with certain potential partners?

What if there was a young genius who invented a chemical cocktail that could make people outrageously charismatic, capable of convincing anyone to do anything – a substance known as The Juice? In the novel, the genius, Thom, is killed, and his secret substance is stolen. This gives the novel its engine, as Thom’s best friend, a tech-head rebel named Jarat, goes on a journey to recover The Juice.

Jarat must control his extraordinary attraction to a girl named Luscious, once a dirt-poor, homely teen who becomes exceedingly powerful when she takes The Juice. She is used by a nefarious media executive who wants to convince a vast segment of the population to vote for a certain presidential candidate and fight in a new world war.

In his quest to stop the destruction, Jarat must win over Luscious as well as a high-ranking executive named Petra, who has a secret agenda all her own.

Writing THE JUICE was like swimming across an ocean, which held mysterious underwater layers of darkness and light. The novel brings my life together in ways I would never have dreamed of years ago. And as I look back on the experience, it’s hard for me to imagine not writing it.

Jarat Ellington is just an exile from Elite society, trying to lead a simple life, when

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With the help of a secret organization, Jarat goes on an obsessive quest to uncover the deadly adversary who now controls the Juice. He must fight his intense attraction to a Charismite named Luscious Melada—once a dirt-poor, homely teen who, with the help of the Juice, transforms into an extremely magnetic starlet. And he goes up against Petra Cardinale, a powerful, ambitious media executive with a secret agenda.

About the Author:Janet Stilson lives in two worlds. On the one hand, she is a journalist. On the other, she writes scripts, novels and short stories that largely fall in the grounded sci-fi and fantasy genres and illuminate the human condition in provocative ways.

Her work has been selected to be part of the Writers’ Lab for Women, which is funded by Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman. And it’s also been published by the esteemed sci-fi literary magazine Asimov’s.

As a journalist, Janet got her “chops” at the storied showbiz bible Variety. She has traveled the world, chronicling the business of media and entertainment.

It afforded her many busman’s holidays in places like Shanghai and Paris, for which she is forever grateful. Along the way, she interviewed lots of executives about many aspects of showbiz—most notably, where the heck we’re all going.

Janet lives in New York City with her husband and two mischievous cats.

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The Time Gatherer by Rachel Dacus – Spotlight and Giveaway

 

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rachel Dacus will be awarding a $20 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Coming of age as a time traveler isn’t easy. Young George St. James gets help from a magical medieval monk and a 23rd century geneticist. But they can’t keep him safe from a secret society dedicated to eliminating time travel. When love unexpectedly arrives in a distant century, George must use all his skill to thwart his foes while trying to save his beloved from their malice.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Her hand was limp in his, and her eyes had ceased to move under closed lids.

“Elisabetta?”

He couldn’t take a breath until she took one, but her breathing was shallow and slow. George finally inhaled, a lump in his throat. But he couldn’t allow the tears. Not yet. Not while she lived.

A single window above her bed let in a feeble shaft of light, but not much air. The stone walls oppressed him. This backward place. If only he could have transported his beloved to the airy apartment he lived in, four hundred years in the future. She could have recovered there. No one could get well in this backward century.

He had offered to take Elisabetta with him, knowing that she would die of this unknown disease. In his time, they might have been able to cure her, but she’d refused. He wouldn’t force this brilliant young painter to leave everything she’d ever known when that might ruin her and disturb history.

This was all his fault. If George hadn’t allowed his teenage passion for rock and roll to lead him to an even deeper passion for delving into history, he might not be sitting in this stone-walled room in the seventeenth century, keeping vigil at the bedside of the only woman he would ever love.

He could jump right now to the future and ask Dr. Zheng for another remedy, but since this one had gone so wrong, the next cure could be worse. And he couldn’t leave Elisabetta alone now.

About the Author:

Rachel Dacus is the author of three novels touched with the supernatural, The Time Gatherer, The Renaissance Club and The Invisibles. Magical realism also runs through her four poetry collections: Arabesque, Gods of Water and Air, Femme au Chapeau, and Earth Lessons. Her writing has appeared in many journals, including Atlanta Review, Boulevard, Gargoyle, and Prairie Schooner, as well as the anthology Fire and Rain: Ecopoetry of California. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and a tiny but feisty Silky Terrier. She loves exploring the outdoors and raising funds for good causes.

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Creating Characters by Russell Archey – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Russell Archey will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Creating Characters

I like to try to create worlds and characters that feel as though they live and breathe, that have histories, backgrounds, that existed long before any pages were written. If it feels like I’ve written a story by looking through a window into their world and writing what I see, then I’ve succeeded. This is why I’m a fan of the “writing by the seat of your pants” style. The characters feel more organic if I write them reacting to the situations around them. When I plan things out, I try to create situations then write the characters as they would realistically react to that situation.

At the beginning of my writing process, I tend to create a general outline of characters: where are they from? What is their history? Are they high-strung or relaxed? Head-strong brave or will their bravery show at the right moment? I try to envision their physical appearance and mannerisms in my head. After that, I let the story tell itself. My dialogue is very rarely written out ahead of time. I let that previously constructed personality react to the others around it, and often surprise myself with the dialogue that comes from it.

I think this feels very organic; however, it also tends to lead me to write myself into corners. This is the biggest type of writer’s block I tend to get. How am I going to move forward from where these characters have ended up? At this point I tend to have to take a step back and look ahead a little at where the characters need to be. But, that’s part of the joy of writing—seeing how these situations will play out!

An incredible high fantasy adventure set in a world based on familiar fairy tales, folklore, and mythology, “The Seven Spires” is an epic story of dragons, magic, conquering evil, and discovering magnificent new places.

When a fearsome creature known as Wyvern begins terrorizing Emrallt, one of the seven realms of the continent of Septer, a group of heroes are brought together seemingly by fate to rally against him. A prince, warrior, wizard, and mysterious, sorceress-like sybil try to discover why a common maiden could be the best chance their kingdoms have against Wyvern’s growing forces that threaten to dominate each and every one of the ancient, arcane spires that bind their kingdoms, and world, together.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Wyvern recognized their broken language and knew that White-eye spoke of more than just a town guard or good-natured passerby. Ratlings cared little for the difference between common humans, merchants, and even nobility. It was only a difference in what goods they could pilfer; however, when a ratling described one as ‘important,’ that often meant ‘royalty’.

“The important man—what did he look like?” Wyvern asked.

The two deplorable rodents looked up at him in confusion. They looked through arms held in front of their faces as if toward off a pending strike. Wyvern leaned forward on his forelimbs.

“You said he was ‘important.’ He wore blue clothes. What did he look like? Face, hair—what?” he growled with small tongues of fire licking around his teeth.

“Also pretty, like lady!” Moss Blossom squealed. “Nice clothes! Long blue vest with another tower—different shiny stone, blue shiny stone…”

Wyvern growled in frustration. The Blue Prince of Avallonis. The little fop could bring Wyvern no end of misery; an army’s worth of misery to be exact. Especially if he had his sights set on the Maiden.

“He threatened you?” Wyvern asked of them.

“Y-yes, with sharp metal. He threaten blood,” White-eye answered. Moss Blossom nodded her head vigorously in agreement.

“Indeed, you had no choice but to flee,” Wyvern said. “But, rules are rules…” he added with menace.

About the Author: Russell Archey has been writing since he was old enough to hold a pencil. His love for narratives, world-building, and story-telling has fed into nearly every aspect of his life: from his video and board game hobbies to pressing his most cherished books onto his unfortunate children (who will, one day, read the Lord of the Rings trilogy whether they like it or not). When he’s not creating new worlds and horrifying things to threaten them with destruction, he’s bringing other author’s fantastic works to life as an audiobook narrator, spending time with his two children, and pressing his dear wife’s eternal patience with his quirky habits.

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Winter Blogfest: Mary Patterson Thornburg

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of The Kura.

The Joy of the Holidays

“The holidays,” we say, wanting to be inclusive – even “the winter holidays,” although for those of us in Earth’s southern hemisphere they’re summer holidays. As I was writing my novel The Kura, set mostly on an alternate world, in another reality, I wondered if the people there celebrated them too. But of course they did, and do. When a native of that world steps into this one on a snowy December night, my heroine explains it to him:

“They approached the downtown area, where lights glittered on every lamppost and the store windows were decorated with tinsel and artificial snow. ‘Is it a celebration?’ he asked. ‘The Midwinter festival?’

“’Yes. A lot of people call it Christmas – that’s what my brother and I called it, growing up – and people from other cultures call it other things. Use it to celebrate other things. But it’s all about Midwinter, really. The return of the sun, in the North. The rebirth of light.’”

When I myself was growing up, my father worked for a Christmas tree company, and his holiday season started with the first frost and got more stressful by the day, making him a bit cynical about the whole thing. My heroine’s father reflects some of this cynicism when he says, of the lights and decorations, “Yes, it’s pretty. Some of it’s almost beautiful. They start this earlier every year, and it’s all about money. Nothing to do with Jesus Christ, or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Midwinter. All about money.” But he can’t keep that up. A minute later he’s agreeing to put up a Christmas tree and planning a party. There’s something about this season that makes it hard to be a cynic for long.
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My holidays this year will be spent alone. My husband, who was for thirty-five years the nearest bright light on my own Christmas tree, died in July, a few days after my country’s Midsummer Festival, which we call Independence Day. Our family is thousands of miles away, and we’re all staying in, staying safe, in this year of worldwide pandemic. But as I write this, I feel the joy of all these coming holidays rising around me. I will send the cards, listen to the music, put up my little plastic tree, and visit with my beloved people through bursts of energy that bounce from one phone to another, caroming off an artificial star. And I will reflect on that “rebirth of light” and the promise these winter holidays make, to all of us, that – in the words of the Dalai Lama XIV – “Our ancient experience confirms at every point that everything is linked together, everything is inseparable.”

Happy holidays to you! 

Six years ago, two men chased Alyssha Dodson into a dark room under a bridge in her Indiana city, and she found herself in another universe. After three months she came back. She promised her father she’d stay in his world. But what she’d left behind was a place she couldn’t forget, dreams she couldn’t escape. And a piece of her heart.

Now, when a man dies in a hit-and-run accident, leaving her a strange, double-faced coin and a message she doesn’t understand, she’ll have to break that promise.

Mary Patterson Thornburg was born in California, grew up in Washington State, moved to Montana when she was 18, and spent many years in Indiana, where she studied and then taught at Ball State University.
Her dream was always to write fantasy stories and novels, but she didn’t get started until she and her husband moved back to Montana in 1998. When she’d finished her first story and it was published, she took off running and never looked back. She’s had stories in Cicada; Zahir; The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction; Strange, Weird, and Wonderful, and the anthology Dreamless Roads, among other places. Her first novel, A Glimmer of Guile, was published by Uncial Press in 2014. Her second book for Uncial, The Kura, came out in April, 2015, and since then there have been novellas and short stories galore. She’s currently writing as fast as she can.

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Winter Blogfest: C.A. Masterson

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $15 Amazon gift card.

Christmas Traditions

Holidays are all about family, aren’t they? Showing the people you love how much you care for them, and spending precious time together. 

In our family, traditions carried through generations make the season extra special. I decorate the entire house so everyone will feel the good cheer of the holidays. 

I’ve collected ornaments since the year I married, and hanging those on the tree brings back wonderful memories. Maybe that’s why our tree fills half the room! For each of my three children, I collected a new ornament every year for them to hang on their own Christmas trees when they grew up.

Even though they’re now adults with kids of their own, the ornaments they crafted for me still go on my tree every year – the glue-and-glitter snowflake, the slightly crooked ceramic house, the cinnamon dough star that somehow hasn’t crumbled. I hope they’ll continue the tradition for my grandchildren so the youngest generation will grow up to hear the stories connected with every ornament.

More like a http://www.donssite.com/steertech/Castle-Autochem-Products.htm levitra on line practical day to day cause that my readers can identify with. The male disorder can occur at young and old age, between the age group of 40 and 79. shop viagra online Dark chocolate is great because it is not only a treatment option but also a diagnostic procedure to identify underlying problems not detected yet. cialis tadalafil 50mg Full Report Profits of Tentex Royal : It is Continue to site soft generic viagra competitive. Family is at the heart of every good story! Especially if your family has a few… quirks. Like the family of my latest heroine, Marissa Tahy.

In Secret Spirit Guardians of Santa Fe, Marissa is my favorite kind of heroine – smart, feisty, brave (maybe to a fault), and a little flawed. She lost her brother at a tender age, and is distrustful of love, and even a little distrustful of family. All her life, she knew they’ve kept secrets from her, but when she finds out the real reason, she puts her personal life aside to do what’s necessary for everyone’s good. The experience brings her family closer than she thought possible.

That’s what make the holidays so special. From our family to yours, we wish you a wonderful holiday filled with precious memories.

After Marissa Tahy returns home to Santa Fe, she is haunted by visions and glimpses of danger no one else sees: Old Man Gloom in his true form. For over a century, people have burned their troubles in the spirit’s effigy at the Zozobra festival, making the spirit angrier and more powerful. This year, Old Man Gloom demands his due. The vengeful spirit targets those Marissa loves.

Even when Marissa discovers the secret history binding her family to Zozobra, joining their forces may not be enough to prevent the furious spirit from burying Santa Fe beneath an avalanche of misery.

Award-winning author C.A. Masterson loves stories of any genre. Multi-published in contemporary to historical, fantasy/dark fantasy to paranormal/speculative, she sometimes mashes genres.

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Where Do Ideas Come From? by PD Alleva – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Where do ideas come from?

The cosmos. Probably from one of the planets surrounding Orion’s belt and the otherworldly beings that manifest on those planets. Food for thought I hope.

As you can tell I write science fiction novels. I’m also intrigued by alien lore, books, theories, and of course Ancient Aliens. I’m an avid reader of just about anything and everything, although I prefer intelligent reads that pack a punch with fantastic storytelling, excellent prose, and incredible character depth. I sneer every time traditional publishing markets another regurgitated storyline. Seems like there’s a lot of those in today’s market.

But where do ideas really come from?

I do believe whole-heartedly that good ideas are a result of an overactive imagination that continues to spin tales whether or not the recipient actually manifests those ideas into a book. In my younger and more vulnerable years (yes that’s a quote from The Great Gatsby) I would tell ghost stories to my two younger brothers every time the lights went out because my parents couldn’t afford the electrical bill, which, unfortunately happened often. Although I’m grateful for those times, telling stories is the best way to transport the mind to a different place, universe, or dimension. There are no limits to any one story other than the limits the author chooses to incorporate. Keep stretching the imagination and demolish the bounds of reality, that’s what I say.

But ideas can come from just about anything and everything. A song, a situation or circumstance, a movie or book that inspires the creative muse, even philosophy, spiritual concepts, scientific advancements or theories, and of course an interest in quantum physics, which breaks down all barriers that traditional science seeks to turn into reality.

I enjoy stretching the limits of my own imagination, perhaps, someday; those thoughts will each Orion’s belt (if they haven’t already).

A masterful, dystopian science fiction thriller of underground genetic experiments, telepathic evil greys, mysterious rebellion, conspiracy, martial arts, and Alien Vampires.

Sandy Cox believed WW3 was over. But for those Alien Vampires, War Has Just Begun.

Forty-eight hours after a World War III treaty is signed Sandy Cox awakens in an underground compound unable to move. Tied to machines she screams for help but no one answers. At least NO ONE HUMAN.

And they’ve taken her unborn child.

Enter Phil, a rebel freedom fighter who has had more than his share of Alien Vampires. Armed with THE BLADES, a sacred alien martial art, he enters the compound on a mission to find Sandy. But as he battles his way through the compound, Phil discovers Sandy has her own agenda. Finding her stolen child is all that matters.

But the vampires have their own plan and Sandy’s baby is at the heart of their diabolical plot. Joined by a crew of rogue soldiers, they must navigate the underground compound, battling genetically mutated humans, aliens and monsters.

When battling Alien Vampires, one thing is certain…Get Ready To Bleed!

Fans of The Hunger Games, George RR Martin, VE Schwab, Star Wars and Ancient Aliens will be fascinated by this high-powered, intelligent, edge of your seat dystopian sci-fi action thriller.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“It’s in the blood, dear,” said Ellen, one of the women Sandy shared time and space with, her skin worn by age, hard labor, and days spent under the sun. Blotches, liver spots and creases led the observer to the eyes. One dark, the other a cataract milky white and she always wore a dark shawl draped over the head and shoulders. Sandy was afraid of Ellen, she reminded Sandy of a gypsy or witch from a fairy-tale.

“Come again?” said Sandy, her eyes shifting from soldier to Ellen to soldier then back to Ellen.

Ellen had cut herself transferring a wood bucket filled with rice to add to an already large trough of buckets. A thick wood splinter pinned in the bottom of her palm dripping with a thick stream of blood. She turned to Sandy raising the bloodied palm and caught a drop of blood in her unwounded hand.

“The blood dear,” said Ellen. “All magic comes from the blood.”

Sandy cringed at the sight; she’d always been squeamish. Her stomach bumped, blood curled. Magic, Sandy thought. If only magic was real. How wonderful would that be? Sandy understood she was naïve, the result of an isolated childhood and her parents’ death when she was ten years old. Not that they had taught the young Sandy about the world she lived in either. They’d kept her under lock and key, never so much as offering a glimpse or advice on the outside world. They were always so cryptic with their explanations, living in an abundant and overgrown mansion as if luxury were a childhood friend. Sure there were plenty of rooms for a child to explore but as time went by those rooms seemed more like a prison than a home.

Years of neglect, isolation and secrets were as torturous as physical suffering. And she was tired of secrets. She wanted to know truth. Truth was like a blanket that keeps you warm in the coldest winter.

“The blood, Sandy,” said Ellen who clenched her fist around those crimson droplets, shaking her hand in front of her face. “All is in the blood.”

About the Author:PD Alleva is an alternative fiction author. His novels cross genres, blending mystery, conspiracy, psychology, and action with horror and dystopian science fiction. Alternative fiction is PD’s attempt at describing what readers uncover in any one of his books, a new discovery towards mainstream storytelling. He’s been writing since childhood, creating and developing stories with brash and impactful concepts that he would describe are metaphors for the shifting energies that exist in the universe. PD exists inside of his own universe, working diligently on The Rose Vol. II and exceptional horror novels. Be prepared for Golem, PD’s upcoming horror thriller.

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