More Madness? I Think Not!

By Jena Galifany -

Let's recap from the first of March.

Issue #1: I was facing a court issue. After shuddering at the thought of going to court to take care of a frustrated competitor of my answering service, I found that I didn't have to go myself. My attorney said he would be going and  I could remain at home, fretting. He told me not to worry but I decided that fretting would be a good focus for my time. It's in my nature.

Outcome: He went. I stayed home. That was two days ago and I'm still wondering what happened. I didn't get any indication that I have to close my business so we are taking it that no news is good news. I do so wish the attorney would let me know what happened though. I guess there is a chance he is still stuck in Los Angeles traffic. It gets pretty bad at times.

Issue #2: The imminent release of my nineth book, Day Labor.

Outcome: And still I wait. I've not heard from the editor again so I suppose we are still in limbo at this time. No cover art has been yet offered, either. I know what it takes to get a book edited and properly "dressed" for it's first public appearance, so I will wait. I'll spend any free time I have (though that is not much) working on another book, another crocheted afghan for my store, another list of prospects for my answering service. Day Labor will come in it's own sweet time.

Issue #3: Jen's 21's birthday.

Nick and Jen at a banquet 2010

Outcome: Undetermined. It's not until the twenty-third. What she wants: a $1200 drawing tablet or $60 worth of online gaming cards. What her father wants to give her: a one way ticket to Texas to where her boy friend lives. Steve told her the other night that he'll send her there if she'll send back pictures of her wedding. LOL I know he was kidding... I think.

I'll probably opt for the gaming cards. Less worry involved, not to mention cost. I'll know where my baby is, sitting in her room on her computer, emailing back and forth with the love interest, and working in my stores during the day. I dread the day she leaves me. Really. I do. Just don't tell her!
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In the hopes that it won't be too much longer, I've decided to post the opening for "Day Labor". This is unedited so please forgive any typos, etc.

Chapter 1 – 2005

Mark Langston stood in the doorway to the Chief of Detectives, Grant Langston's office. Grant took his time in responding to Mark's knock. Obviously annoyed, he tossed down his pen and leaned back in his large leather chair as Mark entered and closed the door.

"What do you want?" As usual, Grant showed no pleasure at seeing Mark.

Mark pulled an envelope from his pocket. He held it up, and crossed the plush carpet in the large office. As he reached the mahogany monster of a desk, he tossed it onto the surface, and watched it slid to a stop at the edge of the blotter. "I want an explanation."

Grant didn't look at the envelope. His gaze locked instead on Mark, his jaw clenched and released before he spoke. "Now that you're married, I wanted you to know that you will receive nothing from my estate in case of my death. You have no part in my will. Just so you can let that new wife of yours know it."

"Why would Beth care? She has her own money. She doesn't care about yours." Mark burned with anger at the insinuation. Beth had more money than Grant Langston ever dreamed of having.

"So my name and my status didn't get you a bride? Congratulations." Grant commented in bored monotone.

Mark slammed his hand on the desk as he leaned toward his father. "I've done everything I could my entire life to please you. I've worked my ass off through school and college to be the son you'd be proud of. I've solved several cases that were beyond anything even you've ever handled. Now, after one of my greatest successes, I get this letter. What kind of a father are you that you’d expend so much energy hating your son?"

Grant carefully weighed his words before he let them spill from his lips. "The kind of father who only has a daughter." He smirked, and rocked back in his chair, his trained eyes watching Mark's face for a reaction.

Mark felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "What are you saying?" He knew damned well what was said but couldn't wrap his mind around the words, or believe them. Not after thirty-five years. Why wouldn't Grant, or at least his mother, have told him before?

"You’re the fancy detective. Figure it out." Grant leaned his forearms on his desk, and continued before Mark could respond. "Do you recall a local incident some thirty-six years ago. A criminal was shot during a home invasion. You probably read the case file when you studied local issues."

"The man was into pornography and drugs." Mark thought back to the case. "Rape, too, I believe."

Grant nodded and clapped his hands with sarcasm. "He gets the gold star."

"What? Rape?"

Grant folded his hands on the desk. "The man had taken a gun from the home office and attempted to shoot the homeowner when he walked in on him. It was a cut and dried case of self-defense."

"What's that got to do with rape?" Mark was confused. He saw by the look on Grant's face that the older man took pleasure in traveling the long road to where he was going.

"What the report didn't say – because it was covered up – was that the bastard raped the man's wife. That woman was your mother and that bastard that I took great pleasure in shooting was your father. I don't think he left you anything in his will either." 

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Thankfully, there is no new madness. I can handle what I have now. I hope this month finishes out on a good note. I know it will be wonderful celebrating Jen's birthday followed by Steve's birthday on April 1st. I know that "Day Labor" will find it's way to a release date. And with God's blessings, all will be fine.

Cheers!

 Jena

Check out my back-list at Whiskey Creek Press and Red Rose Publishing.

 

 

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Welcome to March Madness by Jena Galifany

To most people, March Madness has something to do with Basketball. At least that's what came up when I googled it. Not my thing, though. When it comes to sports, if you want me to play football, baseball, or basketball, I'm all for it (or was some years ago. I'd probably break something now). If you want me to sit and watch, nope. It ain't happening. I'll watch drag racing. Anything else, no thank you.

March Madness in my neck of the woods will include, but is not limited to, editing and hopefully releasing my latest book, DAY LABOR,  attending a business luncheon to learn how to be better at business since I own and operate a used book store, a children's clothing store, and an answering service that is in litigation due to an upset competitor (long story best left alone for now). The court date is in March. My youngest child will be turning twenty-one on the twenty-third.

Amanda, Nick, and Jenevie - My Children

DAY LABOR is the product of the 2011 NaNoWriMo. It is a story that I wrote in my head some time ago after seeing a young man standing on the street corner with a nicely lettered sign that simply stated "DAY LABOR". He was dressed in jeans, a denim jacket and work boots. He looked ready to work at a moments notice and I was impressed by his smile and attitude as he tried to hustle some form of employment. Most of the guys like this in my town don't even stand up. They sit on the curb and hold up a scribbled sign that can hardly be read.

I saw him and he stuck in my mind. In the time it took me to drive from that corner, approximately three and a half miles to my house, I had most of the outline finished in my head. I love it when that happens. I dashed off my notes into the computer and promptly forgot about it, until NaNoWriMo came up about two years later. Now was my chance to make the story come to life. I had watched the entire "movie" in my head several times so I know it wouldn't take long.

It took me twenty-nine days to write the first draft of DAY LABOR. It is probably considered to be chick lit. After polishing and buffing and sanding it into shape, I was please when it was accepted by Red Rose Publishing. Now the real work will begin. I've been contacted by the editor and await the first round. Needless to say, I'm excited.

With luck, DAY LABOR will be released in March and I'll have eight books to brag about, I mean promote. I'm sorry I don't have any cover art yet, but I'll share it as soon as I have it.

Wish me luck and not too much MADNESS!

STORY BLURB: 

How far should a woman go to give the man she loves everything he wants? Beth does what ever it takes to assure Mark's happiness. With any luck, he will never know what she's done to give him what he wants most.

How far should a man go to provide for the needs of the woman he loves? Troy will do what ever it takes to provide for his wife during her high risk pregnancy. With any luck, she will never know what he's done to give her the best care money can buy.

EXCERPT:

“Breakfast is ready.” Beth called down the hall and watched as Mark trudged toward her, tucking in his shirt tail. As he passed her on the way to the kitchen, he gave her a weak peck on the cheek. “How romantic.”

“Best I can do. Apparently I’m not good for much any more.” He dropped into the chair at the table, and took a slow drink of his coffee.

Beth grimaced. “Now you're sounding like Grant. You’re great at a lot of things, Mark. Why are you letting the whole thing get to you like this? Does this challenge have anything to do with Grant and that stupid letter almost a year ago?” She sat at her place across from him, and took her fork in hand.

“Grant has nothing to do with me being a failure. That’s all on me.” Mark poured syrup on his pancakes. He took another drink of coffee, his gaze on his plate.

“This all started with that letter. Did he tell you that if you had a baby in a certain amount of time, you’d get into his will?” She huffed as she grasped at any idea that would explain why the urgency and pressure. “Tell him to stuff it. We don’t need his money. We’ve got plenty of our own.”

Mark shouted, “It’s not the money.” Beth jumped at his out-burst, and dropped her fork into her plate. “I want a baby!” Mark stood abruptly, turned and left the room.

Beth remained at the table, unable to understand what just happened. Mark had never raised his voice to her before. Tears pooled in her eyes as she sat stunned. She waited for him to come back into the room. She could hear him gathering his things for work. She’d wait, and give him some time to calm down. She tensed when she heard his foot falls coming down the hall. He stopped at the kitchen door and stared at her for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, Beth. I don’t know why this is eating at me like it is. I nearly beat a confession out of some scum bag yesterday. If Ari hadn’t stopped me, I’d probably be up on charges of brutality. I just wish I could do this one thing. That would make everything all right again.” He moved to her side, knelt down, and took her hand. “We’ll find some way to make this happen. I promise.” He kissed her hand, and stood. “I’ve got to go.”

            Before she could respond, Mark walked briskly through the kitchen and out the door to the garage. She listened to the outside garage door opening and closing. Beth took a deep breath as she made up her mind to seek out the man that could possibly help give her husband what he so desperately wanted.

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So there you have it. My version of March Madness. By the end of March, I should have a new book to promote, a business free and clear of any legal matters and all of my children of legal age. I'm sure after all of this, I'll be ready to move into April with happy dances and songs.

No, wait. April 1st, my husband will  turn fifty-five. April 2nd, Jury Duty. (sigh)

Cheers!

Jena Galifany

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Creative Beginnings by Jena Galifany

What does it take to get an author started writing? Some times, it only takes a man with a sign. While driving home one day, I noticed a nice looking young man standing on the side of the road holding a cardboard sign that stated simply, "Day Labor". It got me thinking.

It takes me about ten minutes to drive from where I saw the man to my home and in that ten minutes, I'd mapped out the basic story. What would the man do? What was he willing to do? What if he looked like someone's husband? What if he looked enough like someone's husband that he could sire a child that the husband was unable to father? Yeah, I know. I'm warped that way. Work with me here. =) Day Labor began just like this.

I allowed the idea to roll around in my mind for about two years. Last year when I lost my day job on October 28th, I decided it was my chance to join in the fun of NaNoWriMo for the first time. Day Labor became my project for the month of November. From November 1st to November 29th, I worked each night on my project and finished up with a novel 50,448 words long.

I still need to polish it and get it out to a publisher, but at least I know I have one more novel finished. It's a good feeling.

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Unedited Excerpt of Day Labor by M.J. Conrad (Jena Galifany)

Chapter 1 – 2005

Mark Langston stood in the doorway to the Chief of Detectives, Grant Langston's office. Grant took his time in responding to Mark's knock. Obviously annoyed, he tossed down his pen and leaned back in his large leather chair as Mark entered and closed the door.

"What do you want?" As usual, Grant showed no pleasure at seeing Mark.

Mark pulled an envelope from his pocket. He held it up, and crossed the plush carpet in the large office. As he reached the mahogany monster of a desk, he tossed it onto the surface, and watched it slid to a stop at the edge of the blotter. "I want an explanation."

Grant didn't look at the envelope. His gaze locked instead on Mark, his jaw clenched and released before he spoke. "Now that you're married, I wanted you to know that you will receive nothing from my estate in case of my death. You have no part in my will. Just so you can let that new wife of yours know it."

"Why would Beth care? She has her own money. She doesn't care about yours." Mark burned with anger at the insinuation. Beth had more money than Grant Langston ever dreamed of having.

"So my name and my status didn't get you a bride? Congratulations." Grant commented in bored monotone.

Mark slammed his hand on the desk as he leaned toward his father. "I've done everything I could my entire life to please you. I've worked my ass off through school and college to be the son you'd be proud of. I've solved several cases that were beyond anything even you've ever handled. Now, after one of my greatest successes, I get this letter. What kind of a father are you that you’d expend so much energy hating your son?"

Grant carefully weighed his words before he let them spill from his lips. "The kind of father who only has a daughter." He smirked, and rocked back in his chair, his trained eyes watching Mark's face for a reaction.

Mark felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "What are you saying?" He knew damned well what was said but couldn't wrap his mind around the words, or believe them. Not after thirty-five years. Why wouldn't Grant, or at least his mother, have told him before?

"You’re the fancy detective. Figure it out." Grant leaned his forearms on his desk, and continued before Mark could respond. "Do you recall a local incident some thirty-six years ago. A criminal was shot during a home invasion. You probably read the case file when you studied local issues."

"The man was into pornography and drugs." Mark thought back to the case. "Rape, too, I believe."

Grant nodded and clapped his hands with sarcasm. "He gets the gold star."

"What? Rape?"

Grant folded his hands on the desk. "The man had taken a gun from the home office and attempted to shoot the homeowner when he walked in on him. It was a cut and dried case of self-defense."

"What's that got to do with rape?" Mark was confused. He saw by the look on Grant's face that the older man took pleasure in traveling the long road to where he was going.

"What the report didn't say – because it was covered up – was that the bastard raped the man's wife. That woman was your mother and that bastard that I took great pleasure in shooting was your father. I don't think he left you anything in his will either."

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I hope to get the chance to polish up "Day Labor" before much longer and get it out to the public. What does it take to get you started? What stirs your creative juices? Feeling that you need a new idea? Take a drive around town!

Cheers!

Jena'

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