Monthly Archives: May 2018

Introducing My friend, #Author ANDI RAMOS and GumShoe Girl

 

Every now and then you meet someone you just know is gonna be a friend for life! The first time I met my NHRWA chaptermate and sistah Andi Ramos, I knew this was true. Andi’s debut novel GUMSHOE GIRL is out in the book reading world and Andi was gracious enough to sit down with me recently and be put through the grinder –er, I mean — the interview chair, for an up close and personal series of questions. Without further ado ( and don’t I just love being able to say ADO), here’s my girl, Andi.

ANDI: Thank you so much Peggy for having me on today! I am thrilled to get to know your audience and answer any questions, so please comment below!

Andi – the Writer:

  1. What drives you to write? As far back as I remember I would make up scenes with fictitious characters. Sometimes I would jot them down, but I never took them seriously, I would collect them, but they would always end up in the circular file- Gasp!. I never did anything with my writing until I started Gumshoe Girl, my debut novel that was just released May 30th. I had this involved story running through my brain. It didn’t stop at just a scene, it just kept going, so I went with it. I finally compiled all the scenes together into a short draft to see what I had, Holy mackerel before I knew it, I had over 30,000 words. It wasn’t something I couldn’t ignore anymore. I made a decision, and I had to tie the random scenes together into something that made sense and finish it. Well, I no longer waste the story ideas come to me. I cultivate them to see if they are substantial enough to work with. It’s the stories ideas that drive me to continue, as long as they flow, I will respond.
  2. What genre of Romance to you write, and why? I love this question. It’s funny as of now; I can’t seem to get out of the Romantic suspense genre. I am a plotter, but I think of my outlines as organic-I don’t have to stick by them- I want to make sure I can get back to where I wanted to be eventually. I tend to write my romance story first. I want to make sure I don’t skimp on the romance- it’s my favorite part. I have this great WIP (work in progress) I had every intention to make it a contemporary romance, but as I am writing my brain thinks of ways to weave mystery or suspense elements into the story. So far, all my works seem to have a fast-paced light comedic tone.
  3. What genre(s) of Romance do you read, and why? My favorite stories are light, funny contemporaries or cozies. I like something I can pick up and put down when I need to. I love to be entertained when reading. When I can laugh out loud, and everyone around me thinks I’m crazy- that’s my best kind of romance story. I think the friends to enemies is my favorite troupe it tends to lend itself to comedy very well.
  4. What’s your writing schedule? Do you write every day? Peggy, I am struggling with this. I want to have a writing schedule, but I am having trouble coming up with one that fits in my life. Our family is in schedule transition across the board- I am hoping that it will come to a head and we will get some stability soon. I have the desire to write every day, there is this excellent quote by JK Rowlings, “The muse works for you. You don’t write at her beck and call—you train her to show up when you’re writing.” I’m starting to train my muse to show up when my fingers are on the keyboard, now if everyone else will just cooperate, lol.
  5. Give us a glimpse of the surroundings where you write. Separate room? In the kitchen? At the dining room table? In the winter, I’m in a comfy chair in the living room often with one of my Boston terriers squished in on the side of me (only because they both won’t fit). In the summer, I like to escape to my motorhome and write at a table in there. The RV door has a lock, and my teenagers don’t often look for me in there.
  6. Are you the kind of writer who needs total quiet to compose, or are you able to filter out the typical sounds of the day and use your tunnel-vision? I can totally block out every day sounds as long as no one asks me questions directly, I’m good. But, I do use headphones to remind the kids that I am busy trying to create.
  7. Do you listen to music while you write? And if so, what kind? If not, why not? I totally use music. I use spa relaxing babbling brooks with instrumental music to write regularly. But, if I am having trouble connecting some real emotions into a scene, I will put on some intense music for whatever kind of feels I am trying to get across. I find it always works.
  8. How did you come up with the current idea for your current WIP? My new work in progress is another romantic suspense, I was laying on my bed totally vegging out, and I heard Escape (the Pina Colada Song) come on by Rupert Holmes. I thought what a great premise for a story. Well, the only things I kept is the drink, but it was the inspiration. I call it the Escape series and the first book will be the Pina Colada Catastrophe.
  9. Which comes first for you- character or plot? And why? It’s the plot for sure. Even though my stories are very character driven, the plot always comes first; then I work with the characters to breathe life into the scene. I think a lot about character development and what I want them to be- to themselves, to each other- How will they grow? Where did they come from? And how did they get to that point that this story?
  10. What three words describe you, the writer? Ambitious, Eager, and Naive, not sure that it’s a great combination, but it’s all true. I am so excited to see where my stories lead me.

Bonus Round:

Favorite sound: my kids laughing, my youngest son is the funniest person I know, and he gets my other kids going so much- I love listening to it.

Least favorite sound: Nails on a chalkboard, need I say more…

Best song ever written: Oh, too hard to pick just one.

Worst song ever written: She’s having my baby, it’s a song from the 70’s, but have to change it if it comes on, much too sappy for me.

Favorite actor and actress- Favorite actor strictly because I have a crush, the Rock, Dwayne Johnson. Acting ability goes to Robert Downey Jr. Favorite actress, Helen Mirren- I love her. She has grace, refinement and she can kick ass all in the same movie.

Who would you want to be for 1 day and why? I want to be Emma Watson- She got to play Hermione Granger and Belle, come on, she hit the acting jackpot.

What turns you on? Make me laugh

What turns you off? I had a guy that used to write me poetry. I had to pretend to love it; I didn’t. It made me feel uncomfortable, and I can’t stand anything too sappy.

Give me the worst words ever heard on a first date: Holy mackerel, I have to think I’ve been married over 20 years, lol. Okay, I remember, I was going out on a date- way, way back when stretchy jeans started- think early 80’s my friends. Feeling very fashionable, I was all proud of my new outfit, stretchy jeans with an oversized sweater and the slouchy socks that came up over the jeans, my big hair and blue eyeshadow, man I looked good, lol. So the guy picks me up and actually says to me, “Are you going to wear that? Those pants are kind of tight aren’t they.” It was just all kinds of wrong.

What’s your version of a perfect day? Waking up in my motorhome and enjoying a morning coffee and some pastries that we picked up from a local bakery the day before with a scenic mountain range in our sight. Taking an afternoon hike or bike ride, going to a brewery or winery for the afternoon and finishing with a dinner at a cozy, romantic restaurant (because in my perfect world I wouldn’t have to cook). 2nd best day-would be getting through any day with my kids not fighting lol!

Blurb:
Sheagan O’Hare got more than she bargained for when her newly inherited detective agency lands its first case; a missing person, embezzlement, and murder. Sheagan’s out to prove she can hang with the pro’s, despite the constant reminder of her amateur status from an annoyingly attractive FBI agent, Colin ‘Mac’ MacEvine, who’s forced himself into her life.
How does she feel when an old high school friend hopes to ignite a new romance?
Will she be able to discover if detective work and love can mingle before someone gets hurt?

Excerpt

Sheagan blinked back the sting in her eyes as sweat drizzled from her forehead. Her shoulders and forearms cried out as determination inched her body forward through the tin walls that framed her slender figure. The narrow shaft rendered her legs useless as they dragged behind her like dead weight. She made a vow to start working out as she approached her destination, the metal grate that looked down into the sweetheart suite of the Eliot Hotel.

She shimmied her binoculars out of her bag and clutched them in her sweaty palms as she readied herself to delve into the world of private investigating. The friction of her movements caused her mahogany mane to cling to all the surfaces of her temporary confinement. Perched behind the filigree frame, peering like a caged animal, she was a mere 20 feet from her target. Her target? The Rat Bastard, who up until this very moment she’d called boyfriend.

She wasn’t there to kill him, even though the thought had crossed her mind; no, she was there to catch him in the act. She suspected he had been cheating on her for some time, so proof would end her suspicion or the relationship. Spying on her significant other through an air-vent of a swanky hotel room was hardly a promising start to her so-called glamorous career as a private detective. But it snapped her back into the reality that her new chosen profession would often be messy and difficult.

She peered through the grate and envied the spacious room below, but her viewing angle was no good for the task at hand. She could feel the heat in her cheeks rise along with her anger as she scanned the room and soaked in the extravagance–the hardwood tables, the Italian marble fireplace, the opulent sheen of the fabric on the overstuffed furniture that glimmered in the soft candlelight. The Rat Bastard was not known to overindulge on frivolous expenses, unless it was on her dime. Thoughts of killing him resurfaced.

What is wrong with me? Why did I wait so long? 

She immediately regretted the fleeting question. She knew why. The answer brought back the pain and significance of her father’s sudden death. He had been the only family she had left, and he was gone. All that was left behind was his detective agency. She had thought about giving it up, but she couldn’t; it was her only connection to him, to her family.

She closed her eyes briefly, realizing that now she was facing more loss–even if he was a lying, cheating Rat Bastard.

No! It’s better this way, stay focused.

She choked in a breath and turned her attention back to the room. His secret love nest was finished with soothing tones on the walls and thick, plush carpeting.

What is that on the end table? 

Her gaze was drawn to the bottle label as it bobbed upside down in the melting ice. She sharpened the focus of her binoculars, and her eyes widened in recognition.

Her cheeks flushed. Cristal, she scoffed. Who is this Bimbo, anyway? 

As if she had room to criticize this girl’s intelligence, when Sheagan was the one sweating her makeup off in a four-by-four-foot air-duct.

Yeah, who’s the stupid one? 

She heard passionate sounds coming from the right of the room and recognized his tone. Leaning sideways, Sheagan pressed her face to the grate, but her limited

view revealed only a portion of the bed and unable to make out major details, like faces.

Crap, I can’t see anything. Damn! She needed to get a better look

As she shifted her weight, the metal walls started to reverberate and Sheagan stifled a gasp, willing the rumbling to cease. Her breathing became labored as the musty air stole the aroma of the sweet perfume wafting up waft from the suite below. She stilled her movements and did the only thing she could think of… nothing. Nothing but stare at the heap of blankets and wait.

Come on, bimbo, come up for air. I know he doesn’t last that long.
Her discomfort increased as the noise from their passion became more intense. Ugh, that’s it, I’ve had it!
She mashed her cheek and upper body against the grate.
I just need a peek to confirm.
She pressed harder, ogling the bed. Finally, she caught a tiny glimpse.
Just a little further.
She pushed and heard a chirring sound, then a scraping. She froze in place, but

the grate gave way with a creaking groan and crashed to the ground. Time stood still as Sheagan realized there was nothing between her and the floor except air.

Peggy here: Doesn’t this book sound amazeballs!!?? Thanks, Andi, so much for stopping by.

Buy Links:
Amazon US // Apple // Smashwords // Kobo // B&N //
Author Bio: 
Andi Ramos is a debut author from central Massachusetts where she lives with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.

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#goddessFishBookBlast Andi Ramos and GumShoe Girl #TIRGEARRPUBLISHING

 

Goddess Fish Blog tours is proud to present debut author ANDI RAMOS and her new release GUMSHOE GIRL.

Andi Ramos grew up in central Massachusetts where she still lives today with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.

 

BLURB:

Sheagan O’Hare got more than she bargained for when her newly inherited detective agency lands its first case; a missing person, embezzlement, and murder. Sheagan’s out to prove she can hang with the pro’s, despite the constant reminder of her amateur status from an annoyingly attractive FBI agent, Colin ‘Mac’ MacEvine, who’s forced himself into her life.

How does she feel when an old high school friend hopes to ignite a new romance?

Will she be able to discover if detective work and love can mingle before someone gets hurt?

EXCERPT 

As she shifted her weight, the metal walls started to reverberate and Sheagan stifled a gasp, willing the rumbling to cease. Her breathing became labored as the musty air stole the aroma of the sweet perfume wafting up waft from the suite below. She stilled her movements and did the only thing she could think of… nothing. Nothing but stare at the heap of blankets and wait.

Come on, bimbo, come up for air. I know he doesn’t last that long.

Her discomfort increased as the noise from their passion became more intense.

Ugh, that’s it, I’ve had it!

She mashed her cheek and upper body against the grate.

I just need a peek to confirm.

She pressed harder, ogling the bed. Finally, she caught a tiny glimpse.

Just a little further.

She pushed and heard a chirring sound, then a scraping. She froze in place, but the grate gave way with a creaking groan and crashed to the ground. Time stood still as Sheagan realized there was nothing between her and the floor except air.

Buy Links for GUMSHOE GIRL

Amazon  // Barnes and Nobel

 ****** Andi will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.******

Click on this link to join the rafflecopter: Click here

ANDI’S Links:

Amazon // Website // Blog // Facebook // Pinterest // Twitter

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#GoddessFishBookBlast for author Ella Quinn. #historical #Regency

USA Today Bestelling author ELLA QUINN is visiting today with an except from her newest release YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST EARL. She’ll be giving away a signed copy of the book to 5 lucky winners in her rafflecopter, so make sure you enter!

 

BLURB:

With her three good friends all recently married, Elizabeth Turley is ready for some husband-hunting of her own. One gentleman in particular sparks her interest. Geoffrey, Earl of Harrington is tall, handsome, and dashing. He’s also just a bit too sure of himself. But Elizabeth has observed enough about the rules of attraction to pique the earl’s attention. Yet once she has it, the discovery of a troubling secret taints her future happiness . . .

Lord Harrington must marry or lose a prestigious position in Brussels, and pretty, well-connected Elizabeth fits his needs admirably. But could it be that he has underestimated his bride? She doesn’t bat an eye in the face of the danger they encounter overseas. She’s strong-willed, intelligent, and more enticing each day—yet also more indifferent to him. Now Geoffrey faces his greatest challenge: to woo and win his own wife, or risk losing her for good . . .

Excerpt 

“It would not be only you pretending you might be interested in me,” Lord Littleton explained. “I would be seen to be interested in you as well.”

This still seemed unnecessary. Either Lord Harrington would want her for herself or not. She did not like to engage in deceptions. “To what purpose?”

“My dear lady.” Lord Littleton possessed himself of her hands, his gaze capturing hers.

Good Lord, the man was dangerous. She sent a prayer of thanks to the deity that she was not affected by him. “Do you do that on purpose?”

He shook his head and stared at her. “Do what?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Look into a woman’s eyes as if she were the only lady on earth you wished to be with.”

“Ah, no,” he said a little sheepishly. “It just happens. I can’t seem to stop myself.”

“It’s like this, Lizzy”—her brother cut in—“any gentleman who’s interested in a lady don’t wish to see another man making up to her.” He gave his friend a disgusted look. “Littleton agreed to help, but you can see how dangerous it is for him to be in Town. He truly can’t help himself from flirting, and he’ll soon find himself in a bumble-bath if he remains too long. He’s not ready for a leg-shackle yet, but he’d be bound to raise some lady’s expectations and that won’t do.”

“That’s it exactly.” Lord Littleton must have realized he was still holding Elizabeth’s hands and released them. “But that’s not the only reason Turley and I thought I’d be the best one. You see, Harrington and I never got on well together. That will give him the extra incentive to court you properly.”

“And,” Gavin added, “Littleton is so full of juice that he is just as eligible as Harrington. Other than the title that is.”

Her brother and Lord Littleton focused their gazes on her, and she glanced from one man to the other. “I understand.” Or she thought she did. Men were such strange creatures. She wondered why Lord Harrington did not like Lord Littleton. He seemed amiable enough. “Very well, then. How do we begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

AUTHOR Bio 

USA Today bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, and a Portuguese Water Dog. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat. After cruising the Caribbean and North America, she completed a transatlantic crossing from St. Martin to Southern Europe. She’s currently living in Germany, happily writing while her husband is back at work, recovering from retirement.

website // facebook //twitter // Kensington

Ella will be awarding a signed copy of the book (International Giveaway) to 5 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour.

Enter for a chance to win here:

 Rafflectoper

 

 

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Attending your High School reunion…yes or no?

So the other day I got an email inviting me to my 40th High School Reunion.

Yeah, I know. That was my reaction, too. I was like, 40 years??!!! You’ve got the wrong chick, dude. I graduated, like, a minute ago.

Um. No. No, I didn’t. The invitation was correct, much to my disgust. I really did graduate from high school in 1978.

Egads. Where did that time go? That’s best left for another blog post, I feel.

Anyway, the invitation.

I’m gonna be honest and tell you my gut instinct was to delete the email. I haven’t gone to one reunion yet and seriously, don’t plan on ever going to one. High school was an absolutely miserable 4 years of existence for me that basically just dragged on until I could graduate, get the hell out of there,  scream “See ya, soul-suckers,” at my classmates, and start the life I’d been dreaming of. Why, oh why, would I ever want to go back to revisit that horrible time?

My teen years were not, to be brutally honest, my glory days. I was grossly overweight; wicked smart; the teachers liked me because I was smart and the kids all hated me for the same reason. I had no friends to hang out with during or after school. Needless to say a boy never liked me as a girl. In truth, no boy even ever pretended to like me so that I would help them with their homework, or study for a test. It kind of makes a huge statement when a guy doesn’t even pretend to be nice to you so he can get something out of it. Think about that.

I wore thick, ugly, cheap eye glasses because we couldn’t afford anything nicer; I’d never been able to have my ugly, mal-aligned teeth straightened because we couldn’t afford braces; and my last name was different from my mother’s during a time that wasn’t the norm. Most of my clothes were bought at the Salvation Army or GoodWill, and my hair was not what it is today: namely sleek and cared for. Back then I went completely gray at 16 and had begun dying my hair using crap over the counter products that would lead to my loosing all my hair years later. Again, a blog post for another time.

So. High School. Not my favorite part of life.

When the 10th reunion invitation came in the mail ( and yes, it came via pony express because no one had email in 1988) I tore it up and tossed it immediately. I was 28, newly married, and couldn’t be bothered reliving those horrific days.

When the 20th came along, I was 38, a mother and couldn’t even think of leaving my young daughter or my husband for a weekend in which I’d feel all those feelings of inadequacy again. Same thing when the 30th rolled around.

I did toy with idea of going to the 30th though, but it was for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t to reconnect with old friends ( didn’t have any, remember?) No, if I was going to go it was purely to shove in the faces of everyone who’d been mean to me  back then what my current lifestyle was. Gone was the obese, myopic, shy and scared teenager of old, replaced by a thin, confident, contact lenses wearing, spouse of a famous and revered doctor and a respected member of my community. I’d sat on several boards of directors; I’d gotten my Masters degree; I was a many-times over published non-fiction/magazine article writer. I was a success. And I wanted to go to rub their noses in it. I wanted those cliquey- uber popular, cool-set girls to choke on all the nasty names they’d called me, gag on the times they’d whispered and laughed about what I was wearing, and to basically feel less than, just as they’d made me feel all those years ago. I wanted all those boys who’d never noticed me to, well, notice me now!  I wanted to tell them: see? Look what you missed out on, dude. You could have had all this! But…I didn’t  because those were the wrong reasons to go. I’m not a spiteful person, or at least, I try not to be. If I’d gone with that attitude I figured I was mimicking all that bad high school behavior I despised, so I stayed home instead.

 

Remember I told my initial reaction when the 40th invite came was to delete it? I didn’t. I let it sit in my email box for a few days before I opened it. Then I clicked on to the electronic RSVP. Attached to the invite was a list of people who’d already committed to going. I scrolled through the hundreds of names and you know what? I didn’t recognize one of them. For the women, the maiden and married names were listed, so I was able to see the name they’d had back then. Not a single name -nor picture – was familiar. I dug out my high school yearbook from the old trunk I’d stashed it in years ago and put the back-then faces to the names and faces on the rsvp. Still, no recognizable ones. I started to think about what I would do if I did, in fact, recognize someone who’d been mean to me back then. Time and wisdom are amazing, because it dawned on me that I’d feel nothing. Nothing acrimonious, nothing negative. These people don’t mean anything to me. They didn’t then and they don’t now. So, I asked myself, why? Why would I go? Why would I give up a weekend to sit and visit with people who mean nothing to me? It would, in all honesty, be a waste of my precious time. Time I could spend with the people who do mean something to me.
The answer is : I Wouldn’t.

I deleted the invitation after ticking off the RSVP box that said:  NO/Will not attend.

It was the right thing, for me, to do. It will be interesting to see how I feel in 10 years when the 50th rolls around.

Hmmm…. another blog post for sure about that.

I can’t be the only person on the planet person who hated high school, nor can I be the only one who’s never gone to a reunion.  Thoughts? Stories? Comments? Feel free to comment below.

 

And if you’re ever looking for me, I’m usually here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// Book Me

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Rock’em Sock’em…

I don’t get a lot of gifts. I didn’t as a child and I haven’t as an adult. I tell you that so you’ll know how precious the gift I’m going to tell you about really is to me.

Obviously, I’m a girl. Duh. I was a child in the 1960’s a time when stereotypical gender roles were still very much in place. Boys got baseball cards, BBguns, and sports equipment for Christmas and birthday gifts.

Girls got Barbies, Easy Bake Ovens, and board games like Mystery Date.

I hated all those girly-girly toys. Still do, to be truthful. Even back then I knew they were designed to keep girls in their places, hoping and dreaming of the perfect boy/man to come along and take care of us for eternity.

Gag me now.

I so did not buy into that dream. But that’s a blog for another day. Today’s is about the best gift I ever got. You can guess it wasn’t a Chatty Cathy doll, or a tea set.

When I was eight I asked Santa ( that’s right. I still believed in Santa at 8. Still do, in fact.) for a toy I’d seen advertised on Saturday mornings during the cartoon hours. It was aimed at the boy buying market but I didn’t care. I asked Santa that year for ROCK’EM SOCK’EM ROBOTS.

Lordy, I wanted that toy!!! I said a prayer every night that Santa would leave it for me. I was extra good around the house, doing my chores and even doing things I wasn’t asked to do just to score some brownie points with Old St. Nick.

Christmas morning came and….no robots. I think I opened a new outfit or two for the Barbie doll he’d brought me the year before – the one I NEVER played with, and some Barbie coloring books.

Devastated is too tame for how I felt. My mother asked me why I was so pissed ( and yes, she did say it like that to an 8 year old. Is it any wonder I am the way I am today?) I told her I’d asked Santa for Rock’em Sock’em Robots and couldn’t understand why I didn’t get it. I’d been good, did well in school, went to church. Did everything I was told and supposed to do.

Her explanation was very telling. She shrugged, took a puff of her cigarette and said, “‘Cause you’re a girl, not a boy. Santa doesn’t give boy toys to girls or girl toys to boys. That’s not right.”

See? Telling.

Now, you’re probably wondering why I told you that story. Stick with me and you’ll understand why.

Flash forward 48 years. I’m sitting at dinner with my entire in-law family a few days before Christmas and we go around the table telling stories about Christmas’s of the past. My father-in-law asks me what the best gift I ever got was. I told him, instead, about the Rock’em Sock’em Robots debacle and how much I’d really wanted that toy and how upset I’d been when I didn’t get it. On to the next person for another story.

Christmas morning comes and we are spending it with my in-laws. I wake up and we all start to unwrap gifts. My husband hands me a huge box wrapped with a big red bow and a tag that said, “to Peg, from Santa”. Since I hadn’t asked for anything that year, I was in a quandary about what it could be. When I opened it I started bawling my eyes out. Yup – you guessed it. He’d given me the toy I’d always wanted. Apparently, after hearing the story I’d told a few nights before, he’d sent my brother-in-law to Toys R Us with instructions to get it for me.

Is it any wonder I love this man and have for over 30+ years?

Since this is a blog challenge, click on to any of these author sites to see what their favorite gifts have been. MFRWauthor

And if you’re ever looking for me, I’m usually here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// Book Me

 

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A great #Booksale from one of my Favorite #Authors

Wild Rose Press sistah and fab author Donna Simonetta, is having a book sale. From now until June 8, A SWEETER SPOT will be on sale at the following Venues. If you’re looking for a great read to start your summer, this is a book for you!

Blurb:

Magda knows a 28-year-old shouldn’t run away from home, but Rivers Bend is the ideal escape. Helping out her best friend will get her away from her uber-wealthy, controlling grandmother and duplicitous ex. She doesn’t expect the quirky little town to feel so much like home. Add in hotter-than-the-sun Jeff and his daughter, and leaving seems as unthinkable as it is inevitable.

Raising Sam alone, Jeff knew he wanted her to grow up in his supportive hometown. The arrival of a feisty new tenant sends Jeff’s world spinning. Magda fills a void in his life that he’d like to make permanent.

Will love triumph over the most powerful woman in the country, and can they figure out how to make this happy-for-now in Rivers Bend into their happy-ever-after?

Excerpt:

“Being cheated on is no fun. It happened to me once. Up here,” he tapped his forehead. “You know it’s not your fault. But here,” he tapped his chest over his heart. “You feel like it has to be your fault – like you could’ve done something to prevent it. But you couldn’t have. It’s all on him, Maggie. Not you.”

She picked a dandelion, whose flower had turned into a puffball, and blew on it, scattering the fluff to the wind. “Maybe. Maybe not. But thanks for the support.”

She pushed to her feet and took a couple of steps toward the river. Jeff rose and followed.

How could he be so angry at a man he didn’t even know? How could this Pierce jerk have slept around on a woman like Maggie? And the prick had even made her doubt herself in the process. It was written all over her anguished face.

He stood behind her and gently kneaded her shoulders. He turned her to face him and cupped her face in his big hands.

“This Pierce guy is the biggest fool on earth to go to someone else when he had you at home, Maggie.”

She blinked away tears, and he felt his heart constrict. Before he could think it through and decide it was a really bad idea, Jeff dipped his head and captured Magda’s lips in a gentle kiss.

Buy Links:

Amazon:  // The Wild Rose Press  //B&N //  Amazon UK // Kobo

About Donna:

My career has been a winding road. I worked in the business world for years, got my MLS and worked in a school library, and am now living my dream as an author. I love to read and write contemporary and fantasy romance. I live in Maryland, with my husband, who is my real-life romance hero. We both enjoy traveling to visit our far-flung family and friends, and spending time on the beach with an umbrella drink and a good book.

Find Donna Here:

Facebook // Twitter // Goodreads // Amazon // BookBub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under WIld Rose Press AUthor

Imposter Syndrome, Part II

 

Last week I wrote a blog post about Imposter Syndrome. I was floored by the responses I received from readers and writers after it went live. For two days my email inbox was crawling with dozens of responses about what I’d written. Most of them were from authors – some of whom I don’t know personally. A few were from readers. All of them thanked me for calling out what it is to feel  like a professional failure, even though you’ve had a modicum of success. I ended that blog piece by saying, “STOP THINKING YOU ARE AN IMPOSTER AT THIS WHOLE WRITING THING. You write, ergo ( and don’t I just love being able to use that word!!) YOU ARE A WRITER!!!

Why don’t they get that?

A few authors wrote me that they felt like failures, and not “real” writers,  even though they had sold thousands of books, recently signed new contracts, and generally had well known names in the romance writing community. I was stunned by these revelations. My questions to each of them was : HOW DO YOU DEFINE A REAL WRITER and HOW DO YOU DEFINE SUCCESS, because it obviously isn’t in sales, or name recognition. The other question that blew through me was WHY? Why do you feel like a failure? You’ve written a book – some of you several books. They’ve been published – some traditionally, some independently. You’ve received royalties – some a lot, some not so much, but still…money! Readers know your name. Readers await your next book release. Readers WANT to read your work. So, again, WHY do you feel like professional failures?

I’m gonna take a wild guess here to answer that question, and I’m gonna ask for a little patience while I present my case, because some of you are gonna get all hot and bothered ( and not in the good, romance reading way) about what I think.

Since I write romance, that’s the genre I’m going to latch on to here for my discussion. The majority of romance writers are WOMEN. The majority of romance readers are WOMEN. The majority of people who pay cash-money for books of all genres are WOMEN. The majority of people who read for pleasure are WOMEN. The majority of people who make the most money on the planet and are responsible for the majority of decisions made ( and most of them are bad ones!) are ( wait for it ) MEN.

The definition for professional success for most men is very different for woman. Men equate success with money, material possessions, social status, and titles ( CEO, CFO, etc.) Women equate success almost the same way, but where a man will wear his success with pride and boast about it, women, it’s been my experience…will not. They tend to brush off well meaning compliments and try to turn any conversation away from themselves.

Again, this is my opinion based on years of being around very successful MEN and WOMEN and seeing how they react so differently when given praise or asked about their accomplishments. I’ve been in a room filled equally with writers of both sexes and the male voices are usually the loudest, the ones filled with the most hubris, and the ones bragging on their next book sales. The women, when given praise about their own bestsellers and highly anticipated new releases, have typically waved off the compliments, and redirected the praise. When you ask a male writer what he is working on you get chapter, book, verse and verbal diarrhea about the plot and everything else. Women will give you an elevator pitch and then move on to another topic.

Women do not like talking about themselves. Most women, that is. There are a few who drone on incessantly as if they were the only ones on the planet or in the discussion. We all know people like that. But for the majority, women still tend to take a back seat when it comes to broadcasting their successes and this is the reason I think they feel like imposters, frauds, and are faking it.

To these wonderful woman I say OWN IT!! 

Own your success. Wear it like a badge of courage for all your hard work.

 

I raised my daughter to be proud of herself – her successes and goal achievements. I raised her to accept her failures, learn from them and grow with them. I raised her with the knowledge she could walk through any door with her head held high, knowing she could make of herself anything she wanted. I thank the gods of everything she is the woman she was always meant to be. She doesn’t brag, but when given a compliment, accepts it, graciously. She doesn’t extol her own virtues and successes, but she doesn’t dismiss them with an embarrassed hand wave when someone mentions them, either. And she is forever lifting others up both verbally, spiritually, and emotionally.

To all the female writers I know who suffer thru imposter syndrome please know this: YOU ARE NOT AN IMPOSTER and no one has the right to make you feel less than a success.

Own it. Be it. Wear it. YOU ARE A WRITER.

‘Nuff said.

 

If you’re looking for me, I’m usually here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// Book Me

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Filed under Author, Contemporary Romance, Strong Women

A conference, A wedding, A birthday….oh my!

So, this past weekend sosososo many things happened. Where to start?
Always best at the beginning, right?

This past weekend I attended my very first Maine Romance Writers Retreat and conference in Portland, Maine.  I was not only lucky enough to be a participant, but a presenter as well. What a wonderful, warm, welcoming, and TALENTED bunch of writers in this group! Just this year alone they have a Rita finalist and 2 Golden Heart Finalists. That’s pretty impressive, no? I gave my workshop on Baby Boomers and Romance ( euphemistically called Your Mama’s Got Game) to a rousing reception. I learned a lot. I met some new friends. And I networked with some wonderful individuals who share what I do – a love of all things romance and romance related.

Coincidentally, and really, I should say providentially, the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle took place on Saturday morning. This, people, THIS is the stuff of what romance writers live for.

 

Two gorgeous people meeting, falling in love, and then having the wedding I bet every little girl dreams of at least once in their lives.

 

 

Although she wasn’t titled a PRINCESS, the new Duchess of Sussex and her Hunky Duke (  hey! That sounds like a good book title!) Meghan is a true Cinderella story if ever there was one. Don’t be surprised it there is a new wave of Prince/Commoner books published in the next few months.

 

Please forgive these slightly grainy, ultra cheesy photos I took while watching the wedding on the TV in my room. If I knew how to crop, I would. But, alas…

Now, combined with all this wonderfulness, it was also my birthday on Saturday. I turned 21 for the 37th time. You figure that out if you want to know how old I am, because my lips are sealed. But, isn’t it great I got to attend and present at a wonderful writers conference, AND I got to watch a royal wedding to boot, both on my day.

Le sigh. I love my life.

If you’re looking for me, I’m usually here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// Book Me

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Filed under Author, Romance, Romance Books

A series of firsts…

I’m over on LOVEROMANCEREADS today talking about the first time I ever did….this. 

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Filed under Author, Strong Women

Social Media is here to stay…. #MFRWauthor

Another Friday, another blog challenge topic from MFRWauthor. Heehee. This one’s another easy peasy one to write.

Up until I had my first book published, the only Social Media platform I used was Facebook. It kept me in touch with my daughter who’d been in college, and I had fun seeing the posts from all her friends.

Fast forward to June 2014. I signed my first book contract and was told by the publisher that I needed to have a social media presence in order to garner readers and followers. I think the first thing I said was “no.” All I wanted to do was write, not be on-line with strangers all the time talking myself and my book up. That thought went the way of the dinosaur when I found out how effective a marketing tool being on social media sites can be, and in reality, is.

With my daughter’s and my best friend’s help – both of whom are techy and marketing gurus, I started this website, joined Twitter, found Pinterest and Instagram, and became a Goodreads “author.” In addition, I developed a FB following on my author page.

By the time my second book was released, I was proficient in all these sites.

And every time I thought I was done, another “must be seen on” social media site emerged. Book Bub, Triberr, Tumbler, Linked-In came along and with them, my participation.

But this is a blog about our favorite SM platforms, so to be true to the challenge, my absolute favorite it TRIBERR. The reasons vary, but the main one is REACH,  a term that gives new meaning to what you really think it mean.

On TRIBERR I follow many book-, romance-book, and writing web-blogs. Each site has at least a reach of a minimum of 2000 readers. A few have hundreds of thousands. What that means is, if I a member of that TRIBE, ( and yes, that’s what it’s called!) and I post a new blog, the potential for people who don’t know me from Adam to see it is huge. Really huge. Of course, there is reciprocity involved in all this. If I want my blog posts to be seen, I need to publicize other blogs as well. Tit for tat; or in this case, blog for blog. Every morning I log onto my Triberr account and then scroll through the Tribes I am a member of. When I see interesting posts, or posts I feel will be beneficial for my followers, I schedule them on my Twitter feed. That way, my 2000+ Twitter followers, get to read things by people whom they do not ordinarily follow.

Get it?

If you’re a blogger, Triberr is a great place to garner new readership, so that’s why it is my current favorite SM site.

And you can follow me on Tribber ( and all my other sites) here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// Book Me

Now, since this is a blog challenge and hop, visit the other authors here to find out what their favorite social media platforms are and why.

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Filed under #Mfrwauthors, Author, Author Branding, branding, Romance, Romance Books