Saturday, March 31, 2012

Cliff Hanger Saturday Just Like the Matinees of Old




Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.

So share favorites or write one here.

I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.

I think George R. Martin author of Ice and Fire series is an expert at cliff hangers. Perhaps that is why his books are so very good. The cliff hanger keeps me coming back for more.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Friday's Featured Title: The Wager by Christine Young


Read an Excerpt:


The Wager
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Coast of England 1816

"It's a bloody cursed day." Damian Andrews swept the child into his arms and waded through the pounding surf to the beach. He braced himself against the out-going current then sloshed through the crashing waves. Salt spray clung to the wind, stinging his nostrils.

Damian turned. Beneath his ribs, his heart pounded the cadence hard and fast. He swore again as he watched the captain shout orders to his crew. The French brandy that was supposed to have arrived this night would have to wait.

Standing in the longboat, the captain of the ship that brought the brandy as well as the political refugees from the Germanies held a torch aloft--the only light in the vast darkness. "Hurry, laddie. We have human cargo tonight and the tide is changing."

A little girl whimpered.

Damian pulled her into his arms, bent on protecting her at all cost.

"It's all right. You will all be together soon." The smuggling of French brandy was a cover for the cause that meant so much to him. Religious and political refugees--at times it seemed they came in droves. All were seeking a better life. A life of freedom. "Your mother is coming as well as your baby brother. You will all be safe."

Damian looked to the captain. "The father?" he queried.

"He didn't come with his family. He said he had one more thing to do. You must hurry."

The child leaned into Damian, her little face nuzzling his shoulder, her silent sobs gut-wrenching. He pulled her closer, cursing at the elements as well as mankind and wishing he could find a way to shield the tiny child from all harm. He knew the feat to be impossible. The little girl touched a place in his heart and for a moment filled that broken space with light. Yes, the mother would be with her children, but why had the father stayed where his life was in peril? He had learned long ago one could come to regret rash actions. And he'd also learned one could lose all chance at love in one instant.

Lord, but he'd lost his concentration and in losing that, he could well lose his edge.

No secrets-- no lies. The thought haunted him.

His life was a lie, but he would change nothing until his penance was paid. A constant drizzle soaked him to the skin. The wind sent goose bumps rising on his arms. He reached shore and handed the girl over to Aric Lakeland, a trusted friend and accomplice in this night's work, then turned and walked back to the longboat. Her baby brother as well as her mother waited.

He had never meant to get involved. It was the greatest of ironies that he was here now. He'd been a man who loved his family and his home.

He'd been content but that seemed years ago--a life time.

It felt like centuries.

The captain spoke, his voice hushed. "Hurry, now, Master Damian.

It's the watch. They are due to ride by here any time now. The patrols have doubled these last few weeks. I fear it's not as safe as it used to be." The captain handed over the baby wrapped in blankets. Damian stared at the child. The babe couldn't be a year old. The child didn't make a sound, not even a whimper.

This was injustice, a travesty. He looked at the mother. "Can you make it on your own?" He prayed the fragile lady standing before him had more courage than she appeared to have. She nodded and with the captain's help, she stepped into the ocean, struggling for balance. Yet her shoulders were squared and her spine stiff.

As soon as the captain placed the babe in Damian's arms and the three of them were headed for land, he gave orders. Two sailors rowed out to sea, moving toward the black ship that rose and fell on the distant waves.

On a cliff above, the dark silhouette of a third man, Ryder McClaren, could be seen for a brief moment. He waved his arms then disappeared into the shadows once more.

"Hurry," Damian bade the mother, his hand resting on the small of her back, urging her forward.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Join The Weekly Check IN





Source: designzzz.com via Chris on Pinterest


In Power

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

Had a great week? Keep it up, the momentum is on your side.

I'm back from Eagle Crest and I'm pumped. I am really redecorating Rebel Heart. It will not only have a brand new cover (hooray) but the book is taking on new wings.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

EVERYDAY MIRACLES: THE COMPUTER


Yes, no matter how we sometimes curse them, computers are indeed a miracle to me. One of my first jobs was using a typewriter--no correction key--to type federal grant applications. Six carbon copies with no mistakes. (Not as old as the typewriter at left--at least mine was electric. :)

If you're not of a certain age, you may not have actually used a typewriter and not even know what carbon paper looked like. I don't think my kids have had this experience. 

When my office started using the first computers in the early 1980s--with floppy disks and 512K of memory, we were in heaven! We finally had the luxury of correcting mistakes without erasing multiple copies or using white-out. Just fix them on the screen and print out a perfect copy!

Of course computers have evolved light years since then, with many hundreds of gigabytes of memory and lightning fast processors and many other technological advances I don't understand. But to me, they are still miracle machines. 

Do you remember the first computer you used? What was it?

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Spring

Five days--three seasons. Up here in the Northwest, Spring opted to roar into our area with a vengeance.

The first day of 'official' Spring we woke to two inches of snow at my house. While it continued to fall all day not much stuck on the ground. The second day of Spring, I woke to four inches of snow on top of my car. That's when things went wonky. The following day the temperature rose to melt all the snow and, by the weekend, people were in shorts and tank tops because of the sun and warmth.

In the same vein as the weather, I've recently woken up from a very long dry spell from writing and finally found my imagination under the covers of winter. Maybe it was the cold and gray; maybe my stories hit a snag I couldn't overcome. Whatever the reason all things seem to have blossomed, and I'm moving forward again.

The addition of a new laptop from an Angel of a best friend means I have NO EXCUSES as to why I can't complete my stories. So--I'm learning to take my laptop with me wherever I go, and when I have ten minutes to spare will be allowing my muse to flow free. Maybe I can get all two dozen books written before I turn eighty.

Sable Angel

Friday, March 23, 2012

Friday's Featured Title: Dragons Among the Eagles by C.L. Kraemer

Dragons Among the Eagles is the second book in a series. Dragons Among Us being the first. If you like shape shifters and fantasy these books are for you.


Dragons Among the Eagles by C. L. Kraemer
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at:  www.roguephoenixpress.com 

Rain thwacked against Aleda's leathery black appendages. Her arms ached; heck, every muscle in her body ached. This flying thing was going to take more practice. The continual downpour of the spring night slithered past her shielded turquoise eyes, bathing her scales in cool refreshment. As much as she would like to have frolicked in the showers, she was more interested in landing in one spot, curling up and sleeping for the next four days. If only…

Cyre winged up to her side.

"You go in first and I'll follow. I want to wash off the grit of the trip."

Aleda pulled back her lips in a semblance of a smile.

"No problem," she shouted over the wind drafts.

When Cyre's sister, Brittany, had first suggested Aleda attend the dragon council in China, she'd been ecstatic. Her recent discovery of her true identity--half human, half dragon--had put her beliefs to the test. She imagined being around those like her would make her transition simpler. Cyre and Brittany, full-blooded Celtic dragons, had helped as best they could by explaining rules of dragon protocol and pointing out the good guys from the bad guys at the council meetings. By the end of the week, Aleda's fairy tale illusion had fallen abruptly on sharp rocks. Politics and power were as rampant in the dragon-shapeshifter community as in the human community.

Brittany was going to spend a night or two in Cyre's den before continuing her journey back to Scotland. Then Aleda and Cyre would be faced with the decisions they'd both been putting off since their first meeting.

She felt the solid rock beneath her talons and breathed a sigh of relief. The council meeting had been exhilarating, educational and overwhelming all at once. It was nice, really nice, to be back in the Northwest of the United States. Aleda stood, getting her land legs then shook the extra moisture from her body. Placing her talon on the button in the rock wall, she pushed and the door of the cave slid open. Watching the heavy glass trundle into the backside of Mt. St. Helens still gave her chill bumps. So much about the twenty-first century dragon world made her shake her head. How could they survive with all the advancements humans had accomplished? Knowing the answer still didn't stop her from asking the question.

The few minutes she'd stood contemplating questions already asked had given the cavern a chance to air out. While her sense of smell wasn't as acute for some things, sulfur being one of those, she still hadn't been able to adjust completely to the acrid aroma Cyre tolerated in his cave.

As she dragged her tired feet over the threshold, Cyre backwinged his way on the landing. Aleda turned just in time to catch the wicked twinkle in his eyes.

He sprayed water over the landing, his laughter bubbling over the surrounding rocks like thunder.

"Cyre! I just dried off! Jiminy!"

Aleda wrinkled her brow and glared at the young gray-green dragon. His mirthful smirk did nothing to help her anger.

"Hey, you two. Get in here and dry off. I did some hunting before you got here and there's dinner in the great room. I've had mine and to be quite frank, I'm exhausted. I'm going to sleep."

Brittany tromped back to the great room and found a warm spot near the back wall. 

Cyre and Aleda located the carcasses of the deer where Brittany had dropped the bodies. Each took one and moved off to eat, alone, before settling in for the night. Minutes after devouring their meals, the trio of dragons were fast asleep, the decisions of the previous week set aside for the normality of life.



Dragons Among the Eagles is an excellent sequel that will hold your attention until the very end and leave you craving more.  Well done Ms. Kraemer for delivering yet another awesome book!

Worthy of a 5 Angel Eyes rating
L. Nickels for Rogue's Angels

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Please Welcome Maggi Anderson author of The Reluctant Marquess

Rogues Angels are pleased to have Maggi Anderson here today. Maggi is the author of The Reluctant Marquis a historical romance.


Maggi will be giving away a $10 Amazon GC to two randomly drawn commenters during the tour.
So please comment! Oh and don't forget to buy her book.
Bio
Let's learn a little more about Maggi.


Interview:


1.    What or who inspired you to start writing?
      The books of Georgette Heyer when I was a teenager. I loved the worlds she created. Victoria Holt’s Gothic romances too.

2.    How did you come up with your idea for The Reluctant Marquess?
     My fascination with the Georgian era. It was beautiful, colorful, bold and wild. When I researched the period I became interested in the lives of Georgian women and how they overcame the restrictions placed on them.

3.    What expertise did you bring to your writing?
      Years of reading good writers while completing a BA in English and Fine Arts and an MA in Creative Writing. What I’ve learned from being a parent, travelling, meeting interesting people.

4.    What would you want your readers to know about you that might not be in your bio?
      I am passionate about my work and quite tenacious. You need to be both to write I think.

5.    As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?
      I am writing a three book series set in the Regency era. The Spies of Mayfair for Knox Robinson Publishing. The first book A Baron in Her Bed is released in September. Details are on the Knox Robinson Publishing site.

6.    If you could be one of the characters from this book, who would it be and why?
      I like both my hero and heroine, but Charity would be my pick. Robert is a spoiled rake. He needs to learn a few lessons and Charity’s the girl to do it. She’s tenacious like me. I hope I’m as capable of forgiveness and as loving as she is. Charity has to adapt to change too. When she becomes a marchioness, she must learn to cope with her new status and mix with the sometimes spiteful ton.

7.    Do you belong to a critique group? If so how does this help or hinder your writing?
      The wrong group would be a great hindrance I think. I’m fortunate to belong to a critique group of exceptional historical writers. They have proved invaluable in critiquing my work. Sometimes I grimace when what I feel is a perfect scene is criticized. But I consider their suggestions carefully. You have to be confident in your own abilities though. Your voice is a vital part of who you are as an author.

8.    When did you first decide to submit your work? Please tell us what or who encouraged you to take this big step?
      No one, really. I was always determined to be a writer, but circumstances made it difficult for many years. I wrote for ten years before I seriously considered submitting my work, and more years passed before a novel was accepted for publication. Those years were invaluable though – a great learning experience. The earlier work wasn’t good enough. 

9.    What is the best and worst advice you ever received? (regarding writing or             publishing) 
      Don’t go down the e-book track, wait to land a contract with a print publisher?                        That wouldn’t have worked for me back then. And I believe working with an e-publisher taught me a lot. Never listen to advice which might stop you writing. Choose the readers you give your work to carefully. Those that read in your genre are best. I can’t pinpoint the best advice I’ve been given. Writer friends have been a great support though. I’ve studied writing technique reading the best how-to books. I’m still honing my technique, still learning. Writing requires a lifetime of learning in my opinion.


10.    Do you outline your books or just start writing?I roughly outline the entire story, but I’m a panster. I never know quite where the characters will lead me; I just know where they’ll end up. For instance, in The Reluctant Marquess, Charity, who likes to talk things through, suddenly loses her temper. Neither Robert or I saw it coming. 
   Here’s an excerpt:

In the corridor outside her chamber, he barely touched her gloved hand with his lips as he bid her goodnight.
“Robert?”
He turned back to her, his brows raised, looking every inch a marquess. “Yes?”
She put her hand to the emeralds at her throat. “Shouldn’t you return these to the safe?”
“That might be wise.”
“Come in and help me take them off.”
He followed her into her boudoir, as she removed her gloves. The room was empty for she’d told her maid not to wait up.
His touch on her neck felt cool and impersonal. He slipped the necklace into his pocket and turned to go. Charity touched his arm. “Won’t you kiss me goodnight?”
He bent his head and touched his lips briefly with hers. She put a hand on his chest, feeling tension there. He was always annoyed with her and she struggled with the unfairness of it.
“Stay a while?”
“I thought you didn’t wish me to make love to you.”
“Not in the salon. Here, in my chamber.”
His blue eyes blazed hot with anger. “Perhaps Lord Southmore can oblige. He knows where to find your chamber.”
Charity slapped his face. The noise seemed to reverberate around the room in the long silence which followed. They stared at each another, breathing heavily. “I did not deserve that. I find your behavior disappointing, my lord.”
Robert raked a hand through his hair. He gave a crooked grin. “That makes your true feelings clear then, my dear, doesn’t it?”
He turned on his heel and left her chamber, closing the door behind him. The room seemed too quiet with just the ticking of the mantel clock. Charity put her hands to her flaming cheeks.
His rebuff hurt as surely as if he’d thrust a knife in her heart.

11. How do you maintain your creativity?
That’s difficult at times. It ebbs and flows. Writers are subjected to highs and    lows during their career. If a book does well you’re keen to get stuck into the next one. The publishing world is constantly changing and a writer has to change with it, if they want to continue to be published. An unfair review can bring you down momentarily, because there’s no opportunity to address it. You just have to take it on the chin. Like any artist who puts their work out there you have to develop a thicker skin. I do listen to criticism though. If I believe it fair and warranted I act on it next time.

12.Anything else you might want to add?
I love feedback from readers so do get in touch with me, if there’s something that interests you about my work.


Please leave lots of comments! 






Tuesday, March 20, 2012

EVERYDAY MIRACLES

POSTED BY: AMBER ANGEL

I am fortunate to see miracles. Some big ones. Some little ones. 

I've also been privileged to be part of miracles, and will be sharing some of those on this blog once a week. I hope this will become a positive part of your week, as these miracles have brightened my own days. 

I was going to start this series with something else, but this morning my little white dog took yet another unauthorized tour of the neighborhood. I have to take some responsibility for that as strong winds blew down the large wooden gates in our back fence a few weeks ago. At that time, I also discovered the boards were rotting--no badly yet, but not very sturdy. My sons and I propped these up until I could buy new panels for the gates and do a permanent fix. 

In the meantime, my little white dog is very clever as well as adventurous. So he's taken a couple more of those unauthorized tours of our neighborhood. He doesn't go far and he will come home, but it's a worry when he's out and about. He doesn't look both ways before he crosses the street and he chases cats without doubt they will run from him. 

So it's been a miracle he hasn't been hit by a vehicle or hasn't had his face scarred by a cat that won't run.

Beyond that, his ability to run and chase cats is also a miracle. 

He was picked up as a stray several years ago. He'd been living on the streets with a broken leg for what the vet figured was several months. When she performed the miracle surgery to repair that leg, she removed a piece of bone that had been completely broken off from the rest of his leg bone and fashioned a joint out of the remaining cartilage.This surgery was fairly new then--probably still considered experimental. 

Then he came to me as a foster dog while his leg healed. When I took him back for a check-up five weeks after surgery, the vet said she hadn't never seen such progress until five or six months after surgery, and asked what I had been doing with him. I kinda mumbled something about the therapy exercises she had prescribed and Reiki, which is an ancient practice of channeling the energy that is all around us to help the body heal. 

She said keep it up, but still didn't think he would ever regain full range of motion or strength in that leg. 

Needless to say, he does have full range of motion and strength in his leg--which comes in handy when he wants to take unauthorized tours of the neighborhood to chase cats. :)

Yes, I adopted that little white foster dog and, though I get angry when he takes off, it's more worry about his well-being and being outsmarted. Until we can fix the fence, my little white miracle dog is going to be spending a lot of his life in the time-out room. But he's home and safe, a reminder I live with miracles everyday.

Do you have a pet miracle story you'd like to share? 

P.S. My little white dog became one of the characters in my novella, "St. Batzy and the Time Machine." I know if I had a time machine in my back yard, he would some how find a way to take it for an unauthorized tour of history!

Monday, March 19, 2012

May Day Trivia





May Day the topic for the Angels next anthology. It will be published 2012.

Until about 60 years ago, public May Day celebrations were still to be found in many American cities. For decades, one such abandoned May Pole stood in the schoolyard of Ethel M. Burke Grade School in Bellmawr, NJ.

The month of May is named after the Roman goddess Maius, the Goddess of Growth. The word “may” was also commonly used throughout Europe to mean both a maiden, and a hawthorn, a plant that was sacred at the festival of May Day. Some scholars even believe that the modern word “mayor” stems from ancient celebrants called “mayers,” men who led the May festivities as honorary lords

Then there is this record from New York City, written in 1917: “The prettiest feature of the park (Central Park) is the May Day parties, when many a Queen of the May leads her followers there, all gay and blithe and happy, all bubbling with anticipation, all in holiday garb and fancy dress, which is usually white and tinsel and gold with ribbons of all shades, and usually there are vari-colored streamers for the girls to hold as they dance around a May Pole, and often there is music …for days thereafter many a party still comes gaily to the park.”

May Day caroling was very popular in Europe. Singers often traveled in groups, carrying greens and giving branches to homeowners. One such song went:

Robin Hood, the lad that dressed all in green, courted Maid Marian and lived in the woods with 11 of his Merry Men (making up the traditional coven’s 13). He was known in English folklore as the “King of the May,” and May Day itself was sometimes called “Robin's Day.” Also associated with May Day are archery competitions and Morris Dancing. One Bishop Latimer in 1549 complained to King Edward VI that villagers refused to come to church whenever May Day fell on a Sunday, and at one point actually took the key and locked him out of it. An Old English superstition claimed that: “If you sweep the house with blossomed broom in May, you will sweep the head of the house away.”

In England, greenwood marriages continued to take place each May Day in the town of Mayfair, long after the Christians had "converted" the masses. Such marriages were not considered legally binding by the church, but being very popular, were not outlawed until 1753.

Leave a comment and you will be entered in the May giveaway. Not sure what it is yet. The Angels are still working on it.








Sunday, March 18, 2012

And the Winners of Rogues Angels St. Patricks Day giveaway are

Congratulations to the winners. And if you didn't win this time look for our May Day contest, coming soon.

$10.00 Starbucks Gift Card:  Catherine Lee

Name in the May Day Anthology:  Catherine Lee
This book will be published in 2012

These three books are from A St. Patricks Day Anthology

Download of Star Crossed:  Catherine Lee


Download of Meadows:  Dovil



Download of St. Batzy & The Time Machine:  Molly


Thanks to everyone who left a comment. I will be sending gifts next week.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Cliff Hanger Saturday Just Like the Matinees of Old





Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.

So share favorites or write one here.

I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.

The Cliff Hanger today is who will win the prizes?

Contest

Comment on any Rogue's Angels post, including goddessfish tours from January 1st to March 17, and you will be entered to win. 

Follow the Rogues Angels blog and you will be entered twice.

Rogue's Angels will have drawings through January, February, and March. Grand prizes to be awarded on Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.






Prizes

After the drawings on February 15th we now have:

Gift Cards:  $20 Starbucks GC
Name in next anthology (pending, I'm pulling for May Day) 
Bookmarks: to everyone who leaves a comment
Downloads of past anthologies (6): Star Crossed, Meadows, St. Batzy & the Time Machine