#Jerome, AZ Inspires Joshua, AZ #Series by Brenda Whiteside #suspense #romance

My latest WIP (work in process) is based on a real-life mining town turned ghost town turned tourist town. I fell in love with Jerome, Arizona years ago. In order to have more flexibility with the lay of the land and the history, I've renamed it Joshua. All the people in Joshua are purely from my imagination. This Romantic Suspense Series should keep

Hanging on the side of Spirit Mt.

you turning the pages long into the night. An unsolved murder from 1990 has a bearing on today…especially now that a body, reduced to bones, has been found in the hippie section of town called The Ravine.

Chapter Eight is in the hands of my critique partners. I'm working on nine and ten. FDW and I took a drive to Jerome a couple of weeks ago, which is where the setting my imaginary town is modeled after. Now that I’m this far into the book, I found myself seeing the town as if it really was Joshua. The street names were no longer what the street sign designated them. At one point, I told

FDW I needed a shot of the Ghostly Goulash restaurant. He had no idea what I meant.

A section of town call The Ravine plays a big part in my book. As 

Looking down into The Ravine.

in real life (the Gulch), the inhabitants of that area do not welcome visitors. This section was where the first hippies mainly settled in the 60s and many of them still live there. Through flashbacks, I tell a story set in 1969 about some of those first hippies who ended up making Joshua what it is today. We drove a few yards into the area so I could snap some photos. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a good feel for it. My fictionalized edition is much more vivid to me.

This series is stretching my writing abilities. It's a suspense within a suspense that begins in 1969, ramps up in 1990, and culminates in 2019. Through flashbacks the reader will experience a passionate romance, mystery, and suspense that is interwoven with the current story. The current story has its own romantic duo and suspense.

Stairs take you up or down to the next street.

Until then, be sure to read my last series, The Love and Murder Series. You can find all of my books on my Amazon Page and on my web site. You can read the first chapter of all of my books on my web site. And you are welcome to email me with questions or comments whenever you'd like!

Moving Up the Rejection Food Chain and Perceptions of Women by Jannine Gallant

So, I had an interesting phone call the other day. First of all, I always thought getting a call from a publisher was supposed to be good news. I must be special because I've had not one, but TWO rejection phone calls from editors in the last couple of months. Honestly, I felt pretty good about it. Used to be, I received a rejection form letter email saying "Sorry (insert author name), but your book (insert title) isn't right for us. Good luck." I bet you can all relate. But this time the editorial director of the romance division of a large publishing house picked up the phone and apologized for not getting back to me sooner! She also said she was very interested in me, BUT (you knew there was going to be a BUT, right?) she wasn't thrilled about my proposed series. She didn't think it would sell well. And that isn't a risk a publisher wants to take with a print series.

So, let's talk about what sells in today's market because I honestly found our conversation fascinating. It also made me lose sleep over what market perception says about society (and women) in general. First, I write romantic suspense. Maybe other sub-genres have different requirements, but I'm guessing a lot of this crosses over from one to the next. I (in my infinite ignorance) decided to change things up a little (okay, a LOT) when I wrote the first book in this new series. You may remember COUNTERSTRIKE is a series about a black ops type group that rescues kidnapped victims. She really liked that idea, by the way. BUT (that word again) I did not create a band of brothers headlining the group. I have both men and women working together.

The heroine of book one, Deadly Encounter, is a bad-ass sniper who kills bad guys and saves people. She quits the team, but danger follows her, and she continues to be a bad-ass throughout the book. The hero, an author of thrillers, sort of comes along for the ride. He pulls her but out of trouble a few times, and he offers moral support. He is very self-confident and successful in his own right, and he doesn't feel threatened by her bad-ass-ness. Okay, maybe he does a little, but he works through it. And he does save her butt in the end! Apparently strong, kick-ass women who used to be snipers aren't relateable. And that is key in the romance market. What sells in romantic suspense is Alpha males who save every-day, relateable women. I turned the trope on its head. I thought I was being original. Turns out, the editor was very clear in saying publishers don't want original. They want what sells. She wants heroes who are military or cops and other similar hero-ish professions. She wants heroines who have spunk and personality but have careers women can relate to.

So, then we talked about book two. My heroine is a professor and a scientist who has discovered a cure for dementia. Until she loses her memory after she's kidnapped and takes a blow to the head. The editor was not a fan of that trope, even though I use it as an ironic foil to her life's work, and she does get her memory back, and the story isn't about how she forgot she loved the hero or anyone else, for that matter. The hero is the team medic who saves her and continues to protect her as trouble stalks her throughout the book. The editor didn't think a scientist, super-smart woman was very relateable, either. She's not every-woman.

So, I have to ask myself, do women who read romance really only want to read about strong men and unexceptional women who need to be saved? My oldest daughter read Deadly Encounter and said it was her favorite book of mine. She loved that my heroine was a bad-ass woman sniper. But then Tara is a super smart, bad-ass woman who races triathlons and kicks most boys' butts. She could relate. Apparently Tara isn't my target market. The editor said, as a woman, she isn't thrilled about the stereotype, but as an editor, she has to buy what sells. So, do publishers assume women who read romance can only identify with heroines who are average (not scientific geniuses) and need a man to save them? Or is that what most women truly relate to? I always assumed romance readers came from all demographics, but perhaps I was wrong. So, chew on this, each of you lovely ladies who believes in strong women... If I had reversed the rolls of my main characters in Deadly Encounter and made the man the sniper and the woman the author, I'd probably be signing a contract right now.

As it is, I've decided this series isn't the right vehicle to pitch to an agent or attempt to sell to a different big publisher. I'm going to self-publish it and HOPE that there are romantic suspense readers out there who CAN identify with a bad-ass heroine. I guess we'll find out. I won't release this series until 2019 since I still have my final Siren Cove book coming out in November about a very relateable heroine who sells antiques! The editor I talked to did say she would happily read another submission from me in the future. As long as I make my heroines more womanly and my heroes more Alpha. I've done it before. I may even do it again.

In the meantime, my entire BORN TO BE WILDE series and BURIED TRUTH are still on sale for .99 cents for the rest of the month. Give them a try. And if you like them, leave me a review. I swear, most of these heroines are relateable! Happy reading!

Book Festivals and New Release by Diane Burton

Is it worth it to do book festivals? I've participated in six events in two and a half months. Most were local, so mileage wasn't too bad. Plus, most I shared a ride with another author, which cut the gas and table cost in half. But, here's the kicker question: did I break even? Half and half. That's disappointing. I have three more this fall, then it's time to re-evaluate.

When sitting at a table, watching potential readers sail by is disheartening. But sometimes they stop and pick up my book. I tell them a little about it--like it takes place nearby, which always gets a smile. Just when I think they'll buy it, they set the book down and say they'll be back. I know they won't. They're just being polite. 

But then there's a person who buys all three books in a series because she's going on vacation and wants to read mysteries. Yay! Or the person who says she's read all my books and wants the newest one. Double yay!

A book event is a mixture of surprised elation and heartbreak. Besides the cost of gas and the table, there's also the time. Should I be home writing the next story or working on promo? Or playing with the grandkiddies? The latter is the most fun.

In anticipation of these events, I finally put two of my shorter books (ROMANCE REKINDLED and MISSION TO NEW EARTH) in paperback. ROMANCE REKINDLED is a Christmas story, so I have big hopes for that one the closer we get to the holidays.

Now for the best news. In August, I received the rights back to ONE RED SHOE, a romantic suspense. I love this book. I love all my books, but this one has a special place in my heart. Our own Alicia Dean did the original editing and made the story so much better. Because the cover art belonged to the publishing house, I needed a new one. Our own Alison Henderson did the cover. I hope you think it's as good as I do. I love it!

Here's a little about ONE RED SHOE:

Blurb:

It Happened One Night meets Knight and Day

When elementary teacher Daria Mason left Iowa for a writers’ conference in New York City, she didn’t expect to come home with a wounded spy. Sam Jozwiak works for a shadow agency that gathers intel vital to U.S. security. From the moment he steals digital files from a Russian Mafia kingpin, Murphy’s Law takes over. No matter how he covers his tracks, the kingpin’s assassins find him. What’s worse than getting shot in the butt? Accepting help from an Iowa tourist. Thus, begins a road trip that takes Sam and Daria cross country with the assassins right behind them.

Excerpt:

For the second time in her life, Daria Mason came face-to-face with a man pointing a weapon at her. A pervert, with unzipped jeans, wielded a green box knife. Because she’d raced into the restroom without checking out the situation, he now stood between her and the exit.

She was at the end of the proverbial rope. After walking in circles, she finally found a restroom and nobody was stopping her from using it. Especially not someone playing copycat with that guy in the movie who wore one red shoe.

“I am having a really bad day,” she declared in the don’t cross me voice she used on her brothers. As soon as her words echoed off the hideous pink and black tiled walls and floor, she lowered her voice. “You are in the wrong place, mister. Now zip up and get out.” She pointed straight-armed toward the door.

The man shook his head and set the flimsy knife on the counter. “Lady, you have more guts than sense. You are in the wrong place, at the wrong time.” His voice was even softer than hers. He eyed her with a look so dark and intense it paralyzed her like a hawk freezes its prey. She swallowed past the fear in her throat, certain it sounded like a gulp.

ONE RED SHOE is available for pre-order at Amazon http://a.co/d/8DH9M5H

What's New by Brenda Whiteside #RomanticSuspense #Arizona

Hanging on the side of a mountain

My current WIP (work in process) is based on a real-life mining town turned ghost town turned tourist town. I fell in love with Jerome, Arizona years ago. In order to have more flexibility with the lay of the land and the history, I've renamed it Joshua. All the people in Joshua are purely from my imagination. This Romantic Suspense Series should keep you turning the pages long into the night. An unsolved murder from 1990 has a bearing on today…especially now that bones have been found in the Hippie section of town called The Ravine.

My first inclination was to write a three-book series set in 1969 followed by a three-book series set in today Joshua. What I settled on was the contemporary with flashbacks to those early days. I'm seven chapters in to book one. I had to make a chart of characters that are involved in the plot with their ages in 1969, 1990, and 2019. There are twenty-five of them so I definitely needed a chart. The book is set in 2019, involves a murder in 1990, and is interwoven with what happened in 1969.

I found I had to rename quite a few characters, too. Since it became a book within a book, I couldn't have names that sounded too much alike.

1930s "house of pleasure"

I’ll share one of those flashbacks with you today. Every flashback will be seen from the POV (point of view) of Frank Harlan MacKenzie, who came to Joshua in 1969, met Susie Muse and had three children, Magpie, Harlan, and Elidor. Frank and Susie were some of the first of the so-called Hippies that settled in Joshua. I can’t share the whole flashback because it’s too long, so here’s the latter part. He’s just dropped off his friend, Snuff, at the clinic. This is when Frank meets Susie…1969.

Frank closed the clinic door behind him and strolled through the archway that led to another part of the building. A sign intricately painted with scrolls and flowers read Knit Two Wear. The arrow pointed straight ahead. In the middle of the shop, Lolly—the Lolly—arranged some sort of knitted clothing on a rack. Even without seeing her face, she was hard to mistake for anyone else. He was just under six feet, and the woman stood nearly as tall as him. She had to weigh three hundred pounds.

She glanced up. “Good morning. Anything I can help you with?” She dressed the same as the first time he’d met her: full, floor length skirt, sandals, and a cotton blouse with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination about an abundance of breasts. A leather strap held straight blonde hair at the back of her neck.

“I’m just looking around.”

“Please do.” Thick brows drew together. “We’ve met.”

“Yeah, first night I was in town. At your house.”

“That’s right. You live with Doug and Maureen.” She floated toward him, all fullness of skirt flouncing, breasts bobbing and threatening to break free of what little material covered them.

Her arms spread wide, and he suddenly dissolved into warm flesh. He could’ve laid his head on her shoulder and taken a nap. The scent of patchouli lulled him.

She stood back then, still clasping his shoulders. “My, you are a strong young man.” Her hands slipped to his biceps. “Mm—mm.” She winked. “Why haven’t you been back to my house?”

Her welcome hug could’ve turned into a whole lot more. She was really beautiful, but the beauty came as a result of the openness and warmth that radiated from inside her. Lolly held nothing back of herself. How he knew all of this with one hug and a wink, he didn’t know, but thoroughly believed.

“I’ve been busy getting settled and working on my sculptures.”

“Ohhh, you’re a sculptor.” Her fingers massaged his biceps. “I should’ve guessed.” Another wink, and she released him. “Well, you know where I am. You come around any time you want. My home is open most every night to all of our friends.”

Two women entered the shop from the street door. With a smile, she left him to greet her customers.

Having been officially welcomed to Joshua, he left through the street entrance and stepped into the almost noonday sunshine. This is home. He smiled.

The heat of eighty-degree weather penetrated his cotton shirt, and he rolled the sleeves above his elbows as he walked. Turning onto Cutway Street, aptly named as the road jutted upward at an angle to connect to Main Street above, his leg muscles felt the pull with the climb. He didn’t mind. Cutway Street dumped onto Main and into the heart of downtown Joshua. He took a deep breath as he paused at the top. He hadn’t quite acclimated to the elevation yet.

His stomach growled. He’d had only coffee for breakfast. The shop directly in front of him looked promising for food when he spied two wrought iron tables on the sidewalk in front. The sign above the door said “Susie’s” and was flanked by a window on each side. Over one window, “Wake Up Susie” was painted in purple and over the other window in bright taxi-cab yellow was “The Muse.”

He stepped through the open doorway, greeted by a delicious spicy aroma, as well as a nicely rounded bottom covered in worn jeans frayed on the leg edges and missing a pocket.

The petite woman belonging to the butt, bent from the waist downward, peeked around her legs. Black hair, so curly it hung in corkscrews, dusted the floor. “Hi!” She straightened from the shelf of books she was arranging and laughed. The sound was a melody. The face a work of art. Her eyes were the color of gold nuggets rimmed in the color of dark fertile soil. How appropriate for an old mining town. She smoothed her waist-length hair down without much success. Her ripe peach lips were moving, and Frank started with the realization she was speaking.

I’ve been floundering on what to call this new series. Not wanting to wait for some inspiration to hit 
me, I’m going with these working titles. First off, the series will be called Joshua, Arizona. And I’ll name the books for the main character. Book one will be “Magpie, a Joshua, Arizona Novel.” Book two will be “Harlan MacKenzie, a Joshua, Arizona Novel.” And book three, “Elidor, (maybe Elidor Muse), a Joshua, Arizona Novel.” If I find these are too boring, I just might offer a contest to readers to help me choose new titles. More on that in the months ahead.

I write Romantic Suspense. You can find more about my books and me here: https://brendawhiteside.com/

The Suspense is Killing Me! ~ by Leah St James #amwriting

I’m deep in the guts of my current WIP, a sequel to my first published novel. (It’s only been about 10 years.... Um, better late than never, right?) Anyway, after TPM (hubby) ripped apart what I had about a year ago (or maybe it’s been two?), I’ve been picking up the pieces, mending what could be saved and consigning the rest to a “Not Used” file. (Who knows, maybe they’ll make good “extras” to “fans” some day.)

I came to a screeching halt the other day, though, when I realized I don’t have a bad guy scene. Not one. And I’m about two-thirds of the way through the story. The bad guy is wreaking havoc  among my cast of characters, but I’ve given little to no clues about his identity! No scenes where I get into his head or see him in action.

Since this is supposed to be a romantic suspense novel, I decided it was a problem and quickly wrote a couple short bad-guy scenes and tucked them into the story.

Then I started thinking about all elements of suspense I need to incorporate into the story and realized when I finish the first draft (I will finish...I will!), I will have a lot of work left to do.

There are a number of techniques writers can use to create suspense, like making the stakes really big (whether personal or universal) and creating a short timeline for solving the issue.

This article from Writers Digest talks about other things, like applying pressure and creating dilemmas. (Yeah, they go without saying, I think.)
 
For me, as a reader, what creates the most suspense is when I know something bad is coming, and I’m reading/watching the bad stuff develop, waiting for the hero/heroine to figure it out. 

Example:  The shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film Psycho with Janet Leigh. Run! Run! I shriek in my head every time I see it.

 

(Just because I think Hitchcock is THE master of suspense, I thought I’d share this article in which he explains the difference between surprise and suspense. 

And talking about applying pressure...

Did everyone see the original Terminator film (1984, directed by James Cameron and starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Linda Hamilton)? To me, the last ten minutes or so are some of the most suspenseful in film. 

The Terminator has been chasing  poor Sarah Connor throughout the film. She’s gotten herself cornered in this massive forge-like industrial plant. She’s running while machinery is twirling and spinning, plunging and hissing around her. John Connor is there, trying to protect her, until the monster takes him out. Then it’s just Sarah against the creature sent back through time to kill her.

All vestiges of humanity have melted  off his metallic skeletal frame. It’s half blown to smithereens. But it won’t stop. It...keeps...coming. Relentlessly. Until it has her trapped less than an inch away.

 


When I first saw this movie, I remember pushing back against the couch where I was sitting and folding myself into a fetal position.

Even today, just watching the scene has me holding my breath, and I know the ending!

And that’s the level of suspense I shoot for. I want readers holding their breath, pushing back against their seats, their eyes racing across the pages until the scene is resolved. It's a pretty high bar. Like I said, I have a lot of work ahead of me, but it’s fun trying to figure out what I can do to ratchet up the pressure on my beloved characters and make them run for their lives.

What are your favorite suspense moments?

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Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil (really, really evil) and the power of love. Learn more at her website or visit her at Facebook where she occasionally posts about life and writing.

The Value of Networking by Diane Burton

Writers attend writing conferences for various reasons. Education, industry news, promotion (learning and doing), and networking. Catching up with old friends and making new ones is the most pleasurable experience at a conference. Meeting editors and/or agents can be a highlight, too.

Not everyone can afford the major conferences, like RT (Romantic Times) or RWA (Romance Writers of America). Some choose not to spend the money. Flying (or driving) to the location, paying for meals, and the conference fee itself can strain anyone’s budget.

Smaller conferences might be a better option. Local chapters (of RWA or other writing groups) often put on weekend workshops. Margo Hoornstra and I have talked about our RWA chapter’s Retreat From Harsh Reality. Our founders (Margo was one) decided not to invite editors or agents. We invite one author to present two formal workshops plus more informal Q&As. At first (back in the mid-1980s) our own published authors gave the workshops. We’ve expanded since then. For instance, recent presenters were Jennifer Probst, Christie Craig, and Rita Clay Estrada. The best part of our retreat is the laid-back, relaxed atmosphere. Blue jeans and T-shirts instead of more formal attire. Again, the most pleasurable thing (for me) is getting together with like-minded people. Those who understand what writing is all about.

So what does a writer do who can’t afford a conference (or a retreat)? Or those conferences are too far away, and flying is too expensive? How do they learn writing basics or industry trends or get together with like-minded individuals? How do they network?

Online.

When I started in this business over twenty years ago, the internet wasn’t available. We did have email but not the proliferation of networking opportunities. With YahooGroups, Facebook, Instagram, and other means of social media, writers can get together with other writers and it costs little or nothing. We join groups like Authors Helping Authors, Marketing For Romance Writers, and groups that target writers and readers of specific genres. Sisters in Crime, Savvy Authors, and RWA offer online courses in all aspects of writing—from basics to advanced writing, how to use Scrivener, the business of writing, etc. And the cost is minimal.

I love getting together face-to-face, but when I can’t do that, online is great. I’ve met so many new (to me) writers, made friends, and learned so much from them. This group is a fine example. When I first joined, I only knew a couple of you. Now, I’ve made some great friends and discovered authors whose books are now my one-clicks on Amazon.

We aren’t isolated any longer.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog.  Her latest release is NUMBERS NEVER LIE, a romantic suspense, available at Amazon, free for Kindle Unlimited.

Amnesia and a New Release by Diane Burton

How did it get to be the 16th of July already? I thought I had days before my post was due. Must be a case of NewRelease Amnesia. I spent last week running from one blog to another promoting my newest book, NUMBERS NEVER LIE, a romantic suspense. The week before, I had to write all those blogs. So, July disappeared in a blink.

A topic lately here has been promotion--what works and what doesn't and how do we know? I like to blog. Short, focused posts with a purpose. I like telling people about my stories. I like finding the perfect (for the topic) excerpt. When I've read other blogs promoting a new book, I skim the excerpt because I've read it before. I try not to use only one excerpt. But, there are only so many excerpts you can add without giving away the book.

Does blogging help? I like to think so. But how can I tell? As an indie writer, I can see the results daily on Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP). How accurate are the numbers? Good question. I have to trust KDP to record them. I've checked a few time since last Monday (release day) and I'm pleased so far. If the comments on the blogs are any indication, the book should be flying off the virtual shelves. LOL People are being polite, kind even.

This weekend while I took a breather from the blog tour, I didn't look at my calendar. I knew I didn't have any posts scheduled for today. Wrong! So here I am late, with apologies. I must have been hit with amnesia.

NUMBERS NEVER LIE

Blurb:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie.

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Upon returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother Jack’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that--an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack do that puts Maggie in danger?

Excerpt

“What do you mean no toilets?” Drew Campbell stopped on the dusty forest path, hooked his sunglasses on the placket of his golf shirt, and stared at his daughter.

“Dad-dy.” Ellen groaned. Was she only fourteen? She did exasperation better than his administrative assistant. “I told you we were camping.”

Not for a moment would Drew reveal that camping was not what he remembered her saying a week ago. She said she wanted him to come along on an outing with her little group of friends. He figured a hike, picnic lunch, and then home in time for supper.

After taking a call on his cell in the parking lot near the trailhead, he’d gotten his first surprise. That’s when he found out about the “no electronics rule.” No cell phones, no iPods. All were locked in the vehicles. Only the leader carried a cell phone, for emergencies only.

His second surprise came when he opened the hatch of the Navigator. Five backpacks. Five backpacks with bedrolls. He’d transported four girls. It didn’t take a law degree to figure out who the fifth backpack was for. He was in deep shit. But what could he say in front of Ellen and her friends?

“Of course, sweetie. I knew we were camping.” A lie to save face wasn’t wrong. Right?

“Yeah, sure, Dad.”

She didn’t believe him? What happened to the adulation that used to be in her eyes? The “Dad is perfect” look.

He tried again. “Camping, like KOA. You know, kiddo, shower buildings, restrooms, flush toilets. Right now, I’d settle for a port-a-potty.”

Ellen groaned again. “Da-ad.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if she had a stomach ache.

As he’d done several times in the past three hours, he took out his handkerchief, looked at it in disgust, and tried to find a clean spot. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was hot and sticky, more like August in Michigan than June. Drew intensely disliked sweating. Clean sweat—in a gym—was all right. Not this . . . dirt. More than sweaty, he hated being dirty.

Considering the rain in early spring, he was surprised at how dry the path was. And how much dust twenty feet could kick up on a forest path. That, however, was not his first concern. He needed a john. Bad.

“C’mon, Ellen. Isn’t there a restroom nearby?” he asked quietly. “Even an outhouse?”

“Dad, this is Prim.” Ellen had mastered the art of eye rolling. As he’d learned in the past few months, that innate skill emerged in girls during adolescence.

“Prim? What is that?” Drew gave her the self-mocking grin that always made her laugh. “A new all-girl rock group?

Ellen wasn’t smiling. She lowered her voice. “It means Primitive Camping. We go in the bushes.”

“What!” He looked around, realizing that the other girls were staring at him. He hadn’t meant to sound so loud.

“You are embarrassing me.” She stomped away, kicking up more dust. Before she got to her friends clustered nearby, she shot over her shoulder, “I wish you’d never come. I knew it was a dumb idea to ask you.”

“Hey, come back here, honey. I’m sure this is a little misunderstanding. C’mon, Ellen.” In the year since his wife died, he and Ellen had had a lot of misunderstandings.

“I think she’s mad at you.”

Drew turned toward the quiet voice behind him. There she was, leaning back against a tree, her knee bent and booted foot propped against the trunk. Maggie Sinclair, Director of Camp Hell. He knew Jack’s sister was an outdoor nut, but he didn’t think she was this bad. Pissing in the bushes, for God’s sake.

Maggie was a tall woman, only a few inches shorter than his own six feet. She had the tan of a person who spent time outdoors, not a sunbather, though, with laugh crinkles around her eyes. Still, the rough-neck tomboy he’d grown up with. Who else would want to spend a summer day backpacking on dusty trails through snagging underbrush instead of out on a perfectly manicured golf course where you only ventured into the rough to retrieve an errant ball?

Despite the heat and humidity, Maggie’s white T-shirt, with its pink ‘Race for the Cure’ logo, was still white and her jeans, though faded, remained clean. With her dark brown ponytail pulled through the back of a Detroit Tigers baseball cap, she looked as cool as when they started on this trek three hours ago. That almost irritated him more than her awareness of friction between him and his daughter.

“Ellen? Mad at me?” He affected mock surprise. “Your powers of observation are amazing. Are you ever wrong?”

She cupped her elbow in her hand and tapped a finger against her jaw. “Let me see now. I was wrong once—fourteen years ago. That’s when I married Roger Dodger.”

Roger Dodger. An appropriate name for the jerk. The guy got out of paying anything even though she'd supported him while putting him through his MBA, because of Maggie’s inept divorce lawyer. It still pissed him off that she hadn’t come to him. Never mind he specialized in criminal law. He would’ve made an exception for her.

“Let me think. Have I been wrong since?” She continued the damn tapping then snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. I was wrong to let Ellen’s city-soft lawyer daddy help chaperone this trip.”

Drew gave her the smile that prosecutors knew better than to believe. “And here I thought it was because nobody else would.”

Available at Amazon  

Free with Kindle Unlimited

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog. 

A Job Completed by Diane Burton

I know it's too early for celebrating Independence Day. I have another reason to celebrate.

Career-wise, is there a better feeling than completing a job? The satisfaction of finishing a project obscures the difficulties of getting there or the mistakes and problems along the way. I’m a list-maker because I love checking off tasks. Small satisfactions.

I’m thrilled to say that after five months, a lot of moaning, griping, and procrastinating, I finished Numbers Never Lie, a romantic suspense. Sharing snippets each weekend with the Weekend Writing Warriors has kept the story at the forefront of my mind. Never mind that my Muse nagged me endlessly to “finish the darn book.”

So, a week ago yesterday, I shipped that puppy to my editor, our own incomparable Alicia Dean. Instead of twiddling my thumbs waiting for the manuscript’s return (with lots of red markings, I’m sure LOL) I’m taking time to finish those household jobs that I’ve left slide—like folding laundry, cleaning my office, and entering my business receipts in Quicken. The most difficult aspect of that is attributing royalties to the individual books. I’m OCD like that.

With the completion of one task, another rears its head. What’s next? 

So many ideas, so little time. I want to finish two more novels this year, a science fiction romance (the fourth in my Outer Rim series) and a cozy mystery (the fourth in my Alex O’Hara series). Since I haven’t released a sci-fi romance in two years, that one will be next.

While waiting for the return of the edits, my plan is to enjoy a job completed, catch up on household chores, enjoy the lack of deadline pressure, then get started on the next book. When Numbers Never Lie is released, I'll celebrate big time. Not sure yet how. I can't drink alcohol, and chocolate is worth too many points on Weight Watchers. I'll figure out something.

Meanwhile, here’s the blurb for Number Never Lie:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie.

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Upon returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother Jack’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that--an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then someone else dies and Maggie’s home is searched. What did Jack do?

A note since tomorrow is Father's Day: A special salute to all the Dads, especially those who prove what a good father is, like the three men in my life--Hubs, Son, and Son-in-law. Great job, guys. 

Muses & Writing by Diane Burton

Apollo and the Muses on Mt. Helicon by Claude Lorrain

Back in March, I wrote a post on Paranormal Romantics about The Muses. Here’s a little backstory about them. In Greek mythology, Zeus created The Muses to celebrate the victory over the Titans and to forget the evils of the world. Zeus was a prolific father. According to myth, he laid with the goddess of memory nine times to create the nine Muses, goddesses of literature, sciences, and the arts. Two of them are directly related to literature—Melpomene (tragedy) and Thalia (comedy). Although I claim Thalia as my muse because I’d rather write humor than tragedy, But, I can’t ignore Melpomene. A good book must contain both. Tension and danger need the comic relief.

In the past, I’ve groaned and complained about my Muse having gone on vacation or that she deserted me. Then, I read this quote from J.K. Rowling:

"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 find that an interesting perspective. It’s easier to blame the Muse than myself when I'm stuck. Yesterday, Mac Crowne wrote about Writer’s Block. I identified with her feelings back in February when I had a lot of trouble with Numbers Never Lie. At that time, I blamed my Muse for deserting me. Now, I have to wonder.

Have I trained my Muse to show up? I think it’s much like training a puppy. I wasn’t very good at that. Inconsistent at first. Then, I learned to be more vigilant . . . and consistent. I guess that means I need to be consistent with expecting my Muse to show up each time I sit down to write.

However we write, whatever we think of Muses, our job is to get the story out of our heads and onto the screen (or paper). Some of us need inspiration. Reading favorite books, as Mac is going to do (and as I do), reminds us of excellence in writing. 

If I want my Muse to show up when I do, I guess I’d better train her better.

Here’s the blurb for Numbers Never Lie:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie. 

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that—an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack leave behind?

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog.

Horrors! #Amwriting a Blurb by Rolynn Anderson

*#!@&^!
All of us swear when we write blurbs.  Some of us have blurbs thrust upon us by publishers (and commence swearing at first sight). We indies get to swear at ourselves for every wooden phrase or hackneyed term. Since we're all trying to use the same keywords, it's no surprise our teasers sound alike. After we place the polished blurb on the back of the book, we're still growling and groaning over this or that word choice.

I come begging for feedback on the blurb below. Many of you read my Christmas short story about Sable and Carter, so you have more insight about FIRE IS NICE than anyone else I know.  So have at this draft...even if you just tell me the phrase/idea you like and/or the phrase/idea you don't like.  My skin is thick and I need your objectivity.  Thanks!

Giant redwoods crave a scorching forest fire to release their seeds. What kind of heat will smoke poachers out of Sequoia National Park?

***

Criminals are stealing 11,000 year old animal bones from the caves of Sequoia. Ranger Sable Chisholm, assigned to collar the thieves, brings along her donkey and pig. Sable is a former L.A. Agent, recovering from a brain injury, which took away fear but intensified her other emotions. Ranger Carter Glass, devoted to applying logic and statistics to park problems, is Sable’s reluctant partner in crime-solving.

Then the bone-robbers start shooting rangers, deepening the mystery and pushing the stakes sky-high.

If Sable can’t control her fearlessness to team with Carter, her career is over.

For the ancient Sequoia tree, fire is nice, but Sable’s fiery personality could reduce two reputations to ashes.