Why I write by Barbara Edwards

I love words. My father would read the classics to us at bedtime and I heard Tarzan, Treasure Island, Huckleberry Finn one chapter per night along with dozens of other books. Just closing my eyes and listening let my imagination tour the world and I wanted to create those stories.

I can’t claim to have written my first book in my childhood. I didn’t write until I was married with children. I wrote poetry. I took a creative writing class and the teacher told me to write for myself since I wasn’t very good. That hurt and I didn’t write for a couple of years, then found myself wondering if I could take a story out of my head and put it on paper.

A short article in the newspaper about an upcoming series of classes from the area Romance Writers chapter caught my eye. The rest is history. I went, joined and set out to write a novel in a month or two. How hard could it be?

I’m not sure how long it would have taken to finish that first book if I had treated it like a job, not a hobby. Life involved children, work, a husband and those squeezed in minutes devoted to writing. It took me three years to actually find ‘the end’.

As every author has to learn, the finish is not the finish. The you need to find a publisher, get a contact and do the edits required to polish the word so it shines.

I was almost finished with my second book when I got a nibble on the first. Harlequin Historicals was interested. I did some rewrites and it got sent up the chain. At the final committee it got hung up because they didn’t like the villain being involved with the mother. Yikes what to do? I couldn’t think of a way to make the changes they wanted. The entire plot hung on the mother’s betrayal. I refused and they turned me down.

I was hurt and took it with a whimper.

After I was on a internet loop when they started sharing rejection stories. I threw out mine and got an email from an editor at an ebook publishers. They published my book in 2001. I can brag about being a pioneer in the field. The book, Another Love, got reviewed my Romantic Times and got 4 1/2 stars. I sent a note to the editor who wanted to buy it and hope she passed the information on.

I learned from other writers. I took classes. I went to conferences and I worked hard to create my books. The lesson I learned was to treat writing as a regular day job. Write daily, consistently. It’s hard work but worth every minute.

I hope you enjoy my latest release, Ancient Curse.

Blurb: Evil never dies; and for psychic Rainie Gamble who accepts a job to weed out evil artifacts, this could not be more true. When she arrives at the home of Thomas Broquette, her new boss, she isn’t sure what to expect. But the handsome and intriguing Thomas is only the tip of the paranormal activity she encounters while going through his library.

After several near misses when Rainie is injured by evil forces, she wonders if her new boss is hiding a secret? What does the previous owner Mason have to do with the threads of doom encasing the estate? And why does Thomas bring her father, a well-known art thief, into their midst.

The attraction she feels for Thomas grows, as does the evil winning its battle against the inhabitants of what could be her new home. Rainie wonders if she will find and defeat the inhuman force causing all their problems before she and Thomas are sucked into its evil forever.

Excerpt, Ancient Curse

 Changing took a few minutes. She pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead and  studied her reflection in the mirror. Pain lined her forehead. She wondered why Thomas’ touch eased it. Her tangled hair had escaped her twist and needed combing. Humming, she took the time to neaten it.  

Silence enveloped the second floor. With the power off, the soft music she played in her bedroom had been silenced. She half expected her footsteps to echo when she exited the room and walked down the hall.  

Thomas had probably finished mopping up, and she needed to lock her computer and file her notes  before the back-up battery failed. 

Her pulse beat faster. She looked forward to spending some time with him. Hopefully, he was still in the library. She shook her head. She paused as the hair on her nape stirred like she was being watched. 

A cool draft washed over her nape and she glanced back along the hall. All the doors had been closed. They still were. She frowned, and then shook the feeling off.  No-one watched although her skin itched. 

Pausing to enjoy the light emotions held by the smooth banister, she stroked the wood.

A violent shove between her shoulders tumbled her down the stairs like a thrown doll. 

Ancient Curse: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=5911#.VF0EYvITPLg.gmail

Check  out

Late for the Wedding (Twelve Brides of Christmas Book 2) by Barbara Edwards

Link: http://amzn.com/B00OWLKDY6

 I’m Barbara Edwards and a native New Englander. I’m a graduate of the University of Hartford with a Master’s degree in Public Administration. I write poetry for myself and novels when I need to tell a longer tale. I’m fascinated by the past so naturally turned to writing historical romance. The dark paranormal stories evolve from nightmares. The romance comes from my belief in people’s basic goodness and longing for love. 

  I lived in Florida for several years and am past president of the Central Florida Romance Writers and a member of Romance Writers of America.

When I returned to Connecticut, I founded the Charter Oak Romance Writers, a Chapter of Romance Writers of America, along with several close friends
My husband is a retired Police Sergeant. We share an interest Civil War re-enacting and travel the Eastern states to participate in events. I love visiting museums, galleries and battle sites, gathering information for my stories.

I taught Romance Writing at Manchester Community college for three years.

I’m fond of gardening and growing antique roses with limited success. 

Most of my exercise is when my Belgian Shepherd, Dixie, demands a walk. 

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Too Many Partials, Too Little Time by Barbara Edwards

Too Many Partials, Too Little Time by Barbara Edwards

Partials is the name of a file on my computer. In it are the starts of dozens of ideas for my next novel. I had to create this file to keep my sanity. 

One of my idiosyncrasies is having ideas pop into my head while I’m working on a totally different story. I used to think I could remember them until I had time, but I forgot exactly what it was that  excited me.

So I would pause to write the idea. Sometimes a sentence but many times it turned into a chapter, maybe two. I had to put them aside to finish my project because I could wander from one to another endlessly.

I’m a panster and have tried many different ways to increase my speed, output and learned to trust my own method. Taking that intriguing idea and putting it away is hard for me. I want to write more when my attention is hot. 

In fact last night I wrote a paragraph about waking in the dark, not knowing where she is. The start to a romantic suspense, I know. I put the memo into the file and made the mistake of reading a couple others. Why didn’t I decide to go with this one? Or that? An erotica? a romantic suspense? A murder mystery? A historical romance? I love historical romance. 

But I’m working on a paranormal romance for The Wild Rose Press Series called Rhodes End. I need to keep focused. I am into the story. I think that is one of the reasons my creative juices are bubbling over. 

How do you handle this? Or don’t you have the interruption?

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Ancient Curse, Book Three Rhodes End Series:

Evil never dies.  And this time it wanted Rainie.  It wanted more than her life, it wanted her soul.

The artifacts Rainie Gamble handled came from every era and she could read their past with a touch. After her Father’s deceit, she’d lost her beloved career until Thomas hired her. 

Thomas Broquette needed Rainie for more than her psychic ability. She would unknowingly bring her father into his reach. Thomas needed him to return the stolen paintings in Mason’s estate. He needed Rainie to destroy the evil items Mason left behind. Then he realized he needed her for much, much more.

Excerpt:

 Changing took a few minutes. She pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead and  studied her reflection in the mirror. Pain lined her forehead. She wondered why Thomas’ touch eased it. Her tangled hair had escaped her twist and needed combing. Humming, she took the time to neaten it.  

Silence enveloped the second floor. With the power off, the soft music she played in her bedroom had been silenced. She half expected her footsteps to echo when she exited the room and walked down the hall.  

Thomas had probably finished mopping up, and she needed to lock her computer and file her notes  before the back-up battery failed. 

Her pulse beat faster. She looked forward to spending some time with him. Hopefully, he was still in the library. She shook her head. She paused as the hair on her nape stirred like she was being watched. 

A cool draft washed over her nape and she glanced back along the hall. All the doors had been closed. They still were. She frowned, and then shook the feeling off.  No-one watched although her skin itched. 

Pausing to enjoy the light emotions held by the smooth banister, she stroked the wood.

A violent shove between her shoulders tumbled her down the stairs like a thrown doll. 

Ancient Curse: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=5911#.VF0EYvITPLg.gmail

Begin Again by Barbara Edwrds

After the busy holidays and new year, I want to stop not start. Last year was a good year with Ancient Curse, Book 3 in The Rhodes End series coming out at The Wild Rose Press. I also had a Christmas novella, Late for the Wedding.

You’d think I would be excited and happy, but the big ‘but’ has lifted up. Personally, the year was less than stellar. I had health problems that keep me from enjoying the good parts. It’s not easy to ignore the facts: I just couldn’t do what I wanted to do. I need more sleep. I take more pills and I get grumpy. Yep. I could pose for that cat photo with my frown.

I had depression to overcome and to my surprise I found a way to deal with it.

Every Christmas I wish for my family to gather and to share happy times. It’s not possible any longer and this year it dragged me down.

After fighting back tears for weeks, i decided to share with my husband my sorrow. You’ve all heard me talk about his practical outlook  on life but this time he had nothing to say. I cried and complained until it dawned on me I was not able to change anything.

I paused. So everyone couldn’t or wouldn’t be there. How silly to miss those who are already in Heaven and want them back. But I do. 

It’s odd how a brief moment can cause the light to come on.

I’m an author. I can write my own story, create my new Christmas. I am writing my Christmas Fantasy, a beginning of sorts.

It’s not for publication although I may share it with my children.

In it my Father plays Christmas Carols on the accordian then puts it down to spin my laughing Mother into a fast Polka. After she hugs all the children to her soft breasts and they feel her love. I keep thinking of what I want at my Christmas party. All my daughters-in-law come over to bake cookies and we had a fun time. I’m going to add in my daughter and her children so they can share  the joy. My sons actually gather to sing Carols like they did as children.

I can begin a sweet wish and change it to make it better.

I want all of you to begin again with a joyful wish. 

I may never finish my fantasy, but I don’t care. This year I’ll finish another book or two. I’ve officially begun.

Excerpt, Ancient Curse

 Changing took a few minutes. She pressed her hand to her throbbing forehead and  studied her reflection in the mirror. Pain lined her forehead. She wondered why Thomas’ touch eased it. Her tangled hair had escaped her twist and needed combing. Humming, she took the time to neaten it.  

Silence enveloped the second floor. With the power off, the soft music she played in her bedroom had been silenced. She half expected her footsteps to echo when she exited the room and walked down the hall.  

Thomas had probably finished mopping up, and she needed to lock her computer and file her notes  before the back-up battery failed. 

Her pulse beat faster. She looked forward to spending some time with him. Hopefully, he was still in the library. She shook her head. She paused as the hair on her nape stirred like she was being watched. 

A cool draft washed over her nape and she glanced back along the hall. All the doors had been closed. They still were. She frowned, and then shook the feeling off.  No-one watched although her skin itched. 

Pausing to enjoy the light emotions held by the smooth banister, she stroked the wood.

A violent shove between her shoulders tumbled her down the stairs like a thrown doll. 

Ancient Curse: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=5911#.VF0EYvITPLg.gmail

Check  out

Late for the Wedding (Twelve Brides of Christmas Book 2) by Barbara Edwards

Link: http://amzn.com/B00OWLKDY6

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Ancient Curse, a Fall release by Barbara Edwards

Fall is the time when two of my releases are coming out! I’m so excited to continue The Rhodes End Series with Ancient Curse, available November 5th from The Wild Rose Press.

Keeping with our Theme this month here is an excerpt from Ancient Curse, a paranormal romance.

Her pulse beat faster. She looked forward to spending some time with him. Hopefully, he was still in the library. She shook her head. She paused as the hair on her nape stirred like she was being watched. 

A cool draft washed over her nape and she glanced back along the hall. All the doors had been closed. They still were. She frowned, and then shook the feeling off. No-one watched although her skin itched. 

Pausing to enjoy the light emotions held by the smooth banister, she stroked the wood. 

A violent shove between her shoulders tumbled her down the stairs like a thrown doll. 

Blurb: Evil never dies.  And this time it wants Rainie Gamble.  More than her life, it wants her soul.

The artifacts she handles come from every era and she can read their past with a touch.  After her Father’s deceit, she’d lost her beloved career until Thomas hired her to inventory his new estate. She is acutely aware these items ooze evil. Her attraction to Thomas grows despite her resolve to never trust again.

Thomas Broquette needed Rainie for more than her psychic ability. She could bring her father into his reach and Thomas needed him to return the stolen paintings in Mason’s estate. He needs Rainie’s help to destroy the evil things Mason left behind. Then he realizes he needs her for much, much more.

She needs to trust him despite his lie. Their love is her only hope of survival.

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Lost in my world by Barbara Edwards

Barbara Edwards

Please don’t laugh. I can’t find my way out of a paper bag. I need to travel a route several times to recall it in any detail and Lord help you if you ask me to give you directions.

I can follow line-of-sight. If you point at a high hill or building and say go, I can find it. That’s one of the reason I disliked living in central Florida. No hills and few buildings over three stories high make for a bland landscape.

I do have a legitimate reason. I have a form of dyslexia in that I can’t tell my right from my left. Again, don’t laugh.

People tend to brush this problem off. Just look at your hand, right, left. Well since I truly don’t know that doesn’t help. What it did do was make me fail my driving test since the inspector said turn right at the light and I didn’t know which way to go. So I stopped. In traffic. He yelled at me. Sigh. 

The second time I had a female who said turn at the garage. Aha. Passed.

I’ve managed most of my life by pointing in the direction I need. Aggravates my husband who is an excellent driver and doesn’t think my problem is very important.

I’ve tried to explain, but to most of the world this is there in their brain. Right. Left.

A few years ago, my son held up his hands with the thumb out at a right angle. (Try this) The left hand forms an “L”. Wow. I didn’t know that. It didn’t solve all my problems since I still need to think about it. Look at hand, open brain, this means ‘left’. Left is that way.

Another side effect is I also  invert numbers, especially in a column. Makes adding a column of figures difficult so I didn’t work as a book-keeper very long.

Thanks goodness this has no effect on my writing skills. Here all I need to worry about is write, write, write. Tell me if you have a similar problem.

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Coming soon from The Wild Rose Press

Ancient Curse, a paranormal romance

Evil never dies.  And this time it wants Rainie Gamble.  More than her life, it wants her soul.

The artifacts she handles come from every era and she can read their past with a touch.  After her Father’s deceit, she’d lost her beloved career until Thomas hired her to inventory his new estate. She is acutely aware these items ooze evil. Her attraction to Thomas grows despite her resolve to never trust again.

Thomas Broquette needed Rainie for more than her psychic ability. She could bring her father into his reach and Thomas needed him to return the stolen paintings in Mason’s estate. He needs Rainie’s help to destroy the evil things Mason left behind. Then he realizes he needs her for much, much more.

She needs to trust him despite his lie. Their love is her only hope of survival.

It's always changing by Barbara Edwards

What is success—?

I wish I knew what success is. My definitions and markers keep changing on a whole bunch of different levels. It’s a kind of bucket list. When one goal is accomplished, it’s immediately replaced by another.

I remember how hard it was to finish my first book. I wrote and rewrote. Took advice, and then changed my mind. That first manuscript took years to write.

Then the goal was to find a publisher. Another marker of success was when an editor loved it.

Success was that contract in my hand. Wow. I cried so hard and ate too much chocolate to celebrate.

Only that was the start not the finish in the run for publication. A book cover, edits, galleys, blurb and dedication all needed doing and everyone was a small success along the road.

My first book wasn’t a bestseller. So I set that as a goal. My name in the New York Times would be so fine.

Didn’t happen with the next four books either. Then came Journey of the Magi, a short Christmas story in a genre I never wrote before. It didn’t make the New York Times, but it did hit the Amazon Holiday Romance Bestseller list. That resulted in more chocolate and tears.

I just realized I eat a lot of chocolate when I’m happy.

So the next goal was to finish book three in my Rhodes End Series and it is currently being put into galleys.

So here’s a peek at the cover.

Date to be published-Soon!

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Extremely busy by Barbara Edwards

March is flying by.

 I’m completing the edits on Ancient Curse so it can go to galley for the final approval before publishing. I have another holiday romance underway. This short story is for a special series for The Wild Rose Press and I’m very proud to be asked to contribute. I had already started another holiday romance and I wanted it done by the end of March.

Uh Oh. Might not make my own deadline.

And the time is important. My husband and I have been thinking about a trip to Alaska for years and this is the time. We have reservations on the Alaska Marine Highway, a historic scenic route that follows the coastline for thousands of miles.

We’ll travel back to Connecticut from our stay in Florida to drop off the fifth wheel in storage, load up the

truck camper, and head west.

Driving across country is an extremely hard trip. Especially when we want to get to Yosemite for our first major stop. We’ve been to the Grand Canyon and the general area recently so we’ll go past.

We plan to drive up the California coast to Oregon, then Washington State to arrive at Bellingham, the departure point on May 16.

Whew.

I know. Its quick but we want to spend as much time as possible exploring the far North. One of my husband’s goals is to drive to the Arctic Circle. Mine is to persuade him to continue far enough to put one toe in the Arctic waters.

I plan to keep writing as we drive. I’d like to share everything on my blog. And my husband has an iPad mini so the grandkids are going to show us how to take and post pictures on Facebook.

Is it extreme? Sure, but when will we do it if not now?

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Frustrated writer by Barbara Edwards

I admit to being impatient. I want what I want right now. So why did I decide to be a writer? Nothing is timely for an author. The right word eludes me, the character I thought I knew takes a weird action I can’t explain, and the plot twists until I can’t remember how to untangle it. It takes time to write a book. Lots of time and then it needs to be edited.

Don’t remind me what happens when I finally am able to submit it.

So I’m frustrated.

I’m waiting for the cover for my Christmas story, Journey of the Magi. Out of my control and frustrating as heck. I know I’ll probably love it, but I don’t want to wait. Oh my, I sound like a whiney child.  

Then there’s my third paranormal. It took me longer to finish than the first two combined. Why? That life stuff happened again.

Ancient Curse is with my editor. She loves it. We’re waiting for the reader to finish so she can send me a contract. Okay, so it’s been a couple months. Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly through your nose.  

Then it’s go through the entire process again. Why?

I love writing. I love sharing my stories with a growing audience. My heart thumps when I get a good review or compliment.

Is it worth it? Heck, yes.

Visit my website at http://www.barbaraedwards.net  

Marriage vs. Status Quo...

...in romantic fiction and The Artist’s Inheritance

Help me welcome our guest blogger today, Juli D. Revezzo

Thanks Brenda and the Roses for inviting me here today.

I have a question for you and your readers: What do you know about your beloved? Is it enough to save him if the gods decided he’d slighted them?

I posed that question in my debut novel The Artist’s Inheritance.

            As romance authors you’re sort of squashed into a certain format—boy meets girl, boy and girl face obstacles on the road to happily ever after, heck, maybe at first they don’t even want HEA with each other. Eventually they jump over all those hurtles and make it to the altar, or at least broach the subject.

            It’s such an ingrained format most of us can sing it in our sleep.

            But when I sat down to write my novel, that tried and true format just didn’t work. Caitlin, my main character, knew far too much about her beloved. She knew that his brother and sister were artists, she knew that his mother had gone missing, she knew that the brother and sister both committed suicide. Being realistic and rational, these are not things one usually brings up to a girlfriend in the opening stages of a relationship. I contemplated the reunion format but, they’re not my favorite types of books either.

What to do then?

Caitlin had an answer: She insisted they were married. “I have to see what he does in those off hours to see this weird thing he’s creating in secret, don’t you think? I have to live with him, at least. It’s all about his family, sister!”

So, what else could I do? Marriage of Convenience maybe? Since it’s set in Present Day Florida and the characters are not of a culture that might choose that for their children, that didn’t work either. Nor did Caitlin like the idea of a shotgun wedding, so to speak.

I had no other choice.

I had to begin the story after Caitlin and her beloved Trevor married and I ask you, what’s more romantic than a man or woman willing to fight imps and gods bent on your family or your beloved’s destruction?

This is just the beginning of Caitlin’s fight for her beloved, so I hope you will give The Artist’s Inheritance a chance, and like what you see.

Would you like to read more about it? Here’s the synopsis:

How far would you go to save your beloved?

Trevor and Caitlin were once happy newlyweds, profiting from Trevor's art. Until Trevor inherits his brother's house, and with it, his part of a family curse. Now, Caitlin will stop at nothing to save her beloved husband from insanity and suicide, even if it means she must embrace her destiny and become a witch.

The Artist’s Inheritance is available at:

Amazon: http://bitly.com/RDkat0

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/ORLQyF

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/RH0GCI

And in paperback at Createspace:  http://bit.ly/RkOdr0

About Juli D. Revezzo

Juli D. Revezzo has long been in love with writing, a love built by devouring everything from the Arthurian legends, to the works of Michael Moorcock, and the classics and has a soft spot for classic the “Goths” of the 19th century. Her short fiction has been published in Dark Things II: Cat Crimes, The Scribing Ibis, Eternal Haunted Summer, Twisted Dreams Magazine and Luna Station Quarterly. She also has an article and book review or two out there. But her heart lies in the storytelling. She is a member of the Independent Author Network. The Artist’s Inheritance is her first novel.

For more information on Juli and her books, see her website at:

http://julidrevezzo.com

at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Juli-D.-Revezzo/e/B008AHVTLO/

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Thanks, ladies, for having me here today! Have a ahem, rosy day!

Battling March Madness by Barbara Edwards

I’m battling my own March Madness. After finishing my Christmas short and sending it off, I wrote a great scene for the third book in my Rhodes End series. Only the scene didn’t take me where I wanted to go. I needed to delete it. The worst part was knowing I had plotted this scene months ago. It was supposed to work. Huh,

Of course I saved it to the ‘maybe in the future file’. Then I spent a week staring at my computer screen.  I’m within a couple chapters of finishing. I know the end. I know what’s going to happen between the hero and heroine, my secondary characters have their parts. So I had to change an action scene to a transitional one.

I wrote it yesterday and I’m so excited I wanted to share my feelings with you.

Here’s a taste of Ancient Curse. It’s still a work in progress.

August humidity spread a soggy blanket over the flagstones and threatened an afternoon storm. The Broker nodded at a pair of totally powerful males sprawled on the wicker seats like relaxed puppies, not the wolf-like hunters they could be. The lowering sun gleamed like a falling coin.

“Why is it no surprise you’re here?”

“Something smelled,” said Cole Benedict. A sleek, muscular man with black hair and golden eyes, he was the CEO of Benedict Herbals and a talented botanist. His family had lived in Rhodes End for generations.

“I don’t have your nose.” Doctor Steve Zoriak shrugged broad shoulders before he grinned at Thomas. His silver eyes glittered. Another recent resident of Rhodes End, he was married to the only female cop. “But I agree anything Mason had his fingers into stank.”

Both saluted him with opened pop cans. His powerful relief at their presence came as a surprise. These men were the closest he’d come to friends in many years. Cole and Steve knew who he had been and would keep his secrets.

“Sammy says you got a problem. Danger might affect us all,” Steve explained. He finished the contents and crushed the can in his fist. “Not that he said, but he does have a feel for what’s happening.”

Cole pushed to his feet and paced to the edge of the stone patio. Tall and dark, his lean strength was obvious. His golden gaze searched beyond the high wall. Gerbera Daisies, Delphiniums, and massed roses drew insects that hummed and buzzed. Cole’s heritage gave him the ability to sense things beyond normal human capacity.

When his gaze shifted to a heavily carved pedestal and crown, he frowned. He moved closer to study the ornate mosaic surface. “Looks like Mason installed a moon-dial. Too bad the dial is missing.”

“What are you talking about?” Thomas followed him to the shallow bowl. “I thought this was a sundial.”

“No, it’s used for astrological computing.” His hand hesitated above the center. He shrugged as though a weight had settled on his shoulders and lifted his head to sniff the wind. “Something is wrong.”

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