Monthly Archives: January 2013
Tuesday Tales – Light
It’s time for another Tuesday Tales! This week the word prompt is “light”. I have written another excerpt with Thatcher and Miranda.
Miranda swept silently down the dirt path beneath the lush fragrant canopy of the towering pine trees. The light of the full moon above cast everything in the forest in an unearthly pale glow.
Miranda’s heart raced in anticipation. Although she had seen Thatcher several times in the past few days, the thought of his eyes gazing on her as Miranda and not as Ewen made her tremble in excitement.
A soft laugh escaped Miranda’s throat. Count Brunon was disgusted that his betrothed seemed to have such a weak stomach. Miranda did not have to fake it. Brunon craved meats and delicacies that made Miranda cringe. However, Brunon happily avoided his sick beloved in case her malady happened to be contagious. It made it easy for Ewen to appear and volunteer to gather firewood.
Miranda stopped short as the path reached the creek. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes found Thatcher. He stood, his tall chiseled, muscular frame draped in a linen shirt and chocolate brown trousers. His sapphire blue eyes watched the moonlight glimmer off the water. He ran a strong, powerful hand through his short black hair. Miranda sighed hopelessly in love.
Thatcher’s head spun at Miranda’s whisper soft sigh. In just a few long strides Miranda was caught in Thatcher’s strong arms, his sweet lips prying hers apart in a soul-wrenching kiss.
“Miranda,” Thatcher breathed.
Miranda caressed Thatcher’s cheek, her fingers grazing the stumble there. “I cannot stay long Thatcher.”
“I know, my love. Our forced separation will be brief. I will free you from Brunon.”
Miranda smiled gently. “I know.”
The emotion in Thatcher’s eyes became intense. “I will not let him wed you. I will die before that will happen.”
“I know, my love,” Miranda assured him.
Thatcher chuckled. “I owe Ewen a debt of gratitude for bringing you to me. I wasn’t sure he would.”
“He told me you threatened his life if I fell into harm. He should not have.”
“I am surprised he didn’t join you.”
Miranda scrambled for an answer. “He is keeping watch at the edge of the forest. He wanted to give us privacy.”
“He is a good man. There is just something about him.” Thatcher gazed at Miranda. “He had your beautiful eyes. Are you related to him?”
“Perhaps.” Miranda pulled Thatcher’s face to her. She bravely parted his lips with hers kissing him deeply, possessively. The mystery of Ewen fled Thatcher’s mind as he held Miranda close immersed in the warmth of her kiss, her touch, her soft skin. He would certainly make the most of what little time they could share.
Thanks for stopping by!! Please stop by and indulge yourself on some more terrific romantic short stories written by incredible authors! http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/2013/01/tuesday-tales-14-writers-writing-to.html
Crazy Beautiful Life
So it’s been a crazy, busy, euphoric two days for me.
First, if you haven’t gotten a chance, I’ve been given the opportunity to join one of the most talented groups of writers I’ve ever met in my life (and I took Writer’s Workshop courses at the University of Iowa!). We are called Tuesday Tales. If you haven’t taken a look at our short stories based on the prompt work “package” take a look – you will love it! http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/2013/01/tuesday-tales-12-writers-writing-to.html (and yep – that third one down…that’s me!!)
Then today two incredible things are happening. The first started last night. I was invited by the very incredible Vonnie Davis to be a guest on her blog. I talk about my life as SuperMom, one particularly embarrassing moment in my life and what part of my novels is the hardest for me to write here: http://vintagevonnie.blogspot.com/
And this morning this article was published on the USA Today website. http://www.usatoday.com/story/happyeverafter/2013/01/22/jean-joachim-if-you-loved-me-fave-romantic-movies/1856193/ The writers quoted are all authors of Secret Cravings Publishing and yes, that third one down is yours truly. (And I just noticed the pattern of the number “three”…hmmm…curious…) This was incredible. It’s not every day a simple girl from Iowa gets her name in USA Today.
With all the excitement there has been a lot of soul searching. I think I’ve found my romantic genre not that I’ll focus solely on it. And my dear friend Tina – you will find this as very good news (since you’ve been asking when I’m going to get to submitting two books you are particularly fond of)!
Thank you to everyone who has read this blog, who has visited Tuesday Tales and Vintage Vonnie and USA Today. I couldn’t be here without you. Thank you!!vintage vonnie,
Tuesday Tales – Package
I am really excited – I have joined a group of incredible writers called Tuesday Tales. We post stories based on a key word or picture. Click on the link below to read more wonderful stories!
Miranda silently paced the ghostly white marble floor, her crimson silk gown brushing against the silver veined stone. She sent all the servants away wishing to be alone for the day.
Miranda stopped to stare out the window. Thatcher should have sent word by now. The king’s army would have reached the border of the kingdom. There had already been battles. Miranda shuttered. Thatcher just could not be dead.
Thatcher was a valiant knight in the king’s army. He pledged his loyalty to the kingdom. He gave his heart and soul to Miranda. He had since they were children in the village. Had Count Brunon not unearthed Miranda’s past, not revealed her royal bloodline as a lady of the king’s court it would have been very possible the man who raised Miranda as his own would have given her hand to Thatcher in marriage. Brunon’s motives were crystal. With Miranda as his wife Brunon’s path to the crown could not be stopped.
In truth, the only obstacle standing between Brunon and the throne was Thatcher.
Miranda bit her lower lip as she remembered the last kiss she and Thatcher shared. His strong arms holding her close, his lips warm and wet pressed against hers. Miranda trembled at the memory.
“My lady?”
Miranda turned at the soft tiny voice. Behind her a small boy knelt, his little dirty blond head bowed in reverence. By the caked dust on his clothes Miranda could tell he traveled a long distance.
“Yes?” she inquired.
The boy did not speak. He rose to his feet then pulled something from inside his shirt. He held it out to Miranda.
Miranda gently took the burlap wrapped package tied closed with a piece of twine. With another quick bow the boy scampered from the chamber.
Miranda quickly tugged the strings free and let them fall to the marble floor. She unfolded the burlap. Inside was nestled a stone just like the ones she and Thatcher had fished from the streams near their village. The sunlight through the window shimmered against the waves of coral embedded in the stone. A hole had been chiseled through the stone and a leather cord had been threaded through it. Beneath the stone necklace laid a piece of parchment. Miranda smoothed it to read the message.
“My dearest Miranda, please forgive the delay of this gift. We encountered battle early. Despite our victory the fight was difficult. Black magic is certainly working against us. I have spoken to his majesty the king and he has found favor with me. As soon as I return I will make you my bride. This I swear. With all my love, my heart, my soul. Thatcher.”
Miranda clenched the parchment in her hand and pressed it to her lips kissing it tenderly. She looped the cord around her fingers and slipped the necklace over her head. The small cool stone rested in the cleft of her breasts. With a sigh Miranda gazed out the window.
Miranda knew deep in her heart Thatcher would soon be home in her arms. Her thoughts would only be of him until then.
Now – read more stories from extremely talented authors! http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/2013/01/tuesday-tales-12-writers-writing-to.html
Time Out
I was planning on today being a work day with lots of time to get writing done. Instead I’m sitting at Starbucks with Ali having a drink. Much better way to spend my afternoon. There will be time to write later.
Shine On Award
Thanks to Heidi for the Shine On Award!
So here is a little about writer me – in the same style as Heidi!======================================================================================
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When did you publish your first book?
May 8th, 2011. Yep – my first published book was actually a children’s book. I wrote Peculiar in 1998(ish) when both the boys were small. I tried to get it published. Brian researched and researched and racked his brain trying to figure out how to get Peculiar published. I told him to stop – that it was never going to happen. Fast forward to 2011…Jake was talking to a friend at high school about Peculiar. She told him that she was published on a website called CreateSpace. I did the research, tried (and succeeded!) at drawing the illustrations and boom – I was a self-published author!
When did I begin to write?
Since I was able to construct a story – so since I was very little. I’ve loved reading since I was 3 and started making up stories of my own. As soon as I could figure out putting pencil to paper I was writing.
How many books have you published?
Six in total – three children’s books and three novels. The Peculiar Princess and The Finicky Fairy were published in 2011. The Sorceress of Savon, The Woodcutter King of Muladin, Black Irish and My Sunday School Teacher Tells Me were all published in 2012. All six as of now are self-published. In May Black Irish will be published through Secret Cravings Publishing.
What is the greatest passage you think you’ve ever written?
My absolutely favorite passage of all my books (so far) is from The Sorceress of Savon. OK, this is a little more than a passage
Cassandra firmly capped the bottle of herbs with a cork and slipped the container in her bag. She marked her book, stacking one on top of the other then glancing out the window. She watched as Matthew gently kissed Stephana before helping her into her carriage. Cassandra sighed, pulling herself away from the window to gather more herbs. She picked up her two books and the bag of bottles. She hobbled to the door and struggled to open it with her one free hand.
She jumped back, started, as she discovered Matthew standing in the doorway. He clung to the doorframe as he stared at her.
“How may I serve, my lord?” she greeted as she awkwardly bowed to him.
“Where are you going?” he asked, barely audible.
“Home. I have much to do before I return in the morning and you leave for battle.”
Matthew paused. “I did not propose to Stephana.”
Cassandra set the books on a table near the door. “That was unwise, my lord.”
He stared at her as he dug his fingernails into the wood of the doorframe. “Cassa, do not leave me like this.”
She swallowed as she heard the urgency in his voice. “Like what, my lord?”
“Like this – the formal address, the subservient nature. This.” He stood up straight, taking a step to grasp her arms in his hands.
“Tell me her name,” he demanded.
“There is no one.”
“Tell me her name,” he begged. “Tell me and I will give her my heart and make her my bride. I swear this.”
Cassandra looked at him, tears filling her eyes. “What if she belongs to another man?” She looked away as the words she spoke crushed him. Matthew closed his eyes fighting to defeat the truth — the truth he already knew.
She pulled away from him. “I told you there is no one.”
He grasped her hand, pressing it to his heart. “No, my lady, I will win her. I will fight and I will not stop until she is cradled in my arms. This I promise you. Do you hear me? This I promise you.”
Her tears burst their floodgates as she slipped her fingers from his. “I must go,” she stumbled. “I have much to do. I must go.”
She scooped up her books then swept by him and ran down the stairs. She cringed as she heard him call her name, his voice betraying his pain.
How many stories have you written?
A LOT. I have no idea. I have notebooks all over the house full of my stories. Kind of drives Brian a little nuts.
Who’s the biggest supporter of your writing?
I have a lot of supporters. Brian has been by my side giving me all the support he can. I couldn’t have done it without him. He’s been my knight in shining armor. My parents have always been in my corner. They cheer me on, They encourage me. I have friends who have read anything I’ve put in front of them for years. So to anyone who I forced to read what I wrote – thank you!
Who designs your covers?
I do. Just a little .pdf filedesign, some photography. It’s fun!
Where do you want to go with your writing?
Had you asked me three months ago I would have said “to be published by a publishing house, to no longer be self-published”. That wish is in the rear-view mirror now. So next I would like to get the children’s books published too. Oh, and be on the New York Times bestsellers list.
What’s your favorite story?
Black Irish. I love Black Irish. Sloan is my favorite character.
What’s your advice to other writers?
Never stop. The road isn’t easy but then anything worth fighting for shouldn’t be easy. That makes the reward all the more worthwhile. To quote a wise man – “Do not let anything stop you from reaching your dreams. Visualize what you want to achieve. Set goals. Stop making excuses. Motivate yourself to accomplish anything you can imagine. Now get out there and do it.” (Triple H)
My Nominees….
Inside This Writer's Mind 