Friday, November 9, 2012

Where the Greener Grass Grows by Lin Brooks

Please welcome   author of Where the Greener Grass Grows.

Lin will be awarding a $15.00 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour, and a $15 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn host.

Please leave a comment.


Where the Greener Grass Grows
by Lin Brooks

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INTERVIEW:

1.    How did you come up with your idea for your novel?

A lot of the ideas for my books come from real life experiences. The book itself may go off in a completely different direction, but the core of the book is usually something I or someone close to me has experienced. From there, the “what if” takes over. In this case, my daughter, who I am very close to, was in high school, and I could see her days under my roof were numbered. She is my only child, and I wondered how I was going to cope with not having her there every day. That’s when the “what if” kicked in. How would it be different for single moms, as opposed to married moms? How would it be different if we weren’t as close? What about her? How would she deal with her new freedom? I have a friend whose daughter was only a few weeks older than mine, and I started thinking about the differences, and then the plot just went from there. I ended up with one married mom and one single one, one quiet, hard working mom and one outgoing, fun one, and two empty nests. It was a really fun book to write, because there was so much truth in it.

2.    What expertise did you bring to your writing?
   
My first couple of attempts at a manuscript were pretty bad. You never realize how hard it is to fill all of those empty pages until you actually try to do it! I was a math and science person in my younger years, a very direct, to the point kind of person, so building a character and breathing life into a story wasn’t something that came naturally to me. And then I went to law school. They brain wash you in law school. Seriously. They spend the first six weeks completely retraining your mind to think a different way. By the time they’re done with you, you can’t even answer a simple yes or no question. The answer is always “it depends,” because there is no black and white anymore. It’s all grey. Everything. There are no right answers. They teach you how to lay a foundation and then build on it in a way that makes sense to other people and that the answer is not nearly as important as how you came to the conclusion. As a writer, that was invaluable to me. I can look at any situation now, turn it over, spin off a dozen different hypotheticals, and then sit down and create a story that has some meat to it. I learned how to worry less about getting to the ending and more about filling in the detail along the way.

3.    What would you want your readers to know about you that might not be in your bio?

I get into everything, kind of like a dog left alone in a living room full of shoes. I don’t do it on purpose. It just works out that way. There is so much I want to do, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day. So I don’t sit still much. Unless I’m sick or just too exhausted to move, sitting still feels too much like missing out! I love to cook, especially Italian, and I make it all from scratch—noodles, sauce, everything. I grow fresh herbs in an herb garden out back. I remodel—like tearing out walls with a sledge hammer kind of remodel. I currently have eight projects in various stages of completion (my husband is a very patient man!). I run a lot, and am training for a marathon at the end of the year. I practice law in two cities that are three hours apart. I am mom to a twenty year old college student that I visit a lot, and step-mom to a 14 and an 11 year old that have reminded me what it was like to run a taxi service. I travel a lot. And between it all, I write. I keep thinking I should drop some things off of my list, but I am passionate about them all. If it’s worth having, it’s worth working for. And who needs sleep, right? That’s what coffee is for.

4.    As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?

Right now, I’m putting the finishing touches on a humor book about divorces, which is due in mid-November. That’s the beauty of e-Books—I don’t have to have everything finalized a year in advance!! That one is humor therapy for divorced women. I figured out that most women blame themselves for failed marriages and, wouldn’t you know it, most men blame the women, too. It’s hardly fair. So I wrote a book about it. So far, response has been very positive! I also have a romance book coming out early next year, and I have another one that is about 80% finished that I’m going to lock down on next.

5.    Can you give us a sneak peak into this book?

Sure! The story is about Cara, a stay at home mom, and Lacey, a single mother. Their daughters leave home for college right about the time of Cara’s twentieth anniversary, which is a total bomb. With her daughter out of the house, Cara quickly realizes that her relationship with her husband isn’t what it used to be. Over the last 18 years they’ve drifted apart, and without their daughter there to glue them together, she’s concerned that they won’t be able to connect again. Her husband has a secret, though, and that secret threatens to tear them apart. She distracts herself by worrying over Lacey, who prefers working late to going home to an empty house. If she can’t fix her own relationship, maybe she can help Lacey find happily ever after. Except Lacey isn’t at all interested. She believes there is no Mr. Right and has no interest in looking for Mr. Right Now. But Lacey can’t help but worry about her friend. Cara has a solid, reliable, sweet man who cares for her, if Cara could only see it. Lacey decides the best way to help her friend is to get her busy. She offers Cara a deal—blind dates for job interviews. To her surprise, Cara accepts. Unfortunately for Lacey, her daughter Abby is soon in on the matchmaking scheme. Through all of this, Lacey and Cara have to learn to adjust to their new lives without losing their identity.

6.    Do you belong to a critique group? If so how does this help or hinder your writing?

I don’t, but I wish I did. I have my support group (i.e. my family and friends) who will read my books, but they don’t ever tell me what’s wrong with them. I figure it’s their job to like my stuff no matter how much work it needs. So I just work with book editors. I had a wonderful editor on this book, a guy by the name of Lou Aronica (he used to head up Avon Books). He gave me such wonderful insight. In fact, he gave me a paragraph of comments that resulted in a total rewrite, and I was so pleased with the results. It was 1000% better! So I’m a big fan of having an unbiased fellow writer look over your work.

7.    What is the best and worst advice you ever received? (regarding writing or publishing)

The best advice I’ve ever received is to write what you know. True, you can do a great deal of research in order to write about something that is out of your skill set, but if you’re writing about something that others know and you don’t, one mistake and you lose your audience. So you have to be very thorough, very careful, and let people who know your subject look over your shoulder. When you write what you know, not only are you less likely to make errors, you are more comfortable. You can provide more detail and more depth, which makes for a richer story.

The worst advice I’ve ever received is to keep doing the same things over and over, hoping for a different result. That’s a paraphrase, but it’s the essence of what I was told. The idea was that if you get a rejection, write another story, submit it, get another rejection, etc. That’s true to a point. You do have to be thick skinned to be a writer, and rejections are part of the process. On the other hand, if you aren’t learning anything through the process, you aren’t helping yourself. Each manuscript should be better. Each rejection should teach you something. If all you are doing is submitting and resubmitting, then you will keep getting the same results. Ask for constructive criticism. Grow as a writer. If you don’t look back and see that this manuscript is better than the one you wrote three years ago, then you can’t expect that your chances of getting published will get better. The worst thing you can do when you get a rejection is assume the editor simply doesn’t see the potential in your manuscript, and the editor must not know a good story when he/she sees one. Part of your job as a writer is to deliver a story that people want to read. So you have to be flexible enough see the flaws in your own works and make an effort to fix them.

8.    Do you outline your books or just start writing?

I sort of outline. I have a general idea of where I’m headed, and I usually jot down about ten plot points that are designed to get me there. Then I start writing and maybe my story goes along with the plot points and maybe it doesn’t. Once I get my fingers on the keyboard, the characters take over.

9.    How do you maintain your creativity?

That’s a tough one. I go off in so many directions, my biggest challenge is to maintain my focus. I think the trick to maintaining creativity for me is to schedule time for it. That may sound counterintuitive, but it is so easy to let life interfere. I have made a concerted effort to dedicate a portion of my day, every day, to either to doing something related to writing, whether it’s actual writing or promotion or research. If I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t ever get around to it. Other people do a really good job of taking time out of my day, and to a certain degree, that is necessary. But I have to put myself in line, too.

10. Anything else you might want to add?

Come visit me at linbrooks.blogspot.com or on facebook at www.facebook.com/lin.brooks.33. I’m always pecking on the computer about something, and I’d love to hear from you!






BLURB:
Sending the children off to college is never easy. For Lacey Marchand and Cara Myers, an empty nest is enough to drive them a little crazy -- but sometimes, a little crazy is just what the doctor ordered.

Now that their daughters have left for college, Lacey and Cara have too much time on their hands. With nothing else to do, Cara decides to help single-mom Lacey get a life. And what better way to get a life than a few blind dates?

Lacey, however, can't think of a worse way to spend her weekends. She has her own ideas for curing their empty nest problems -- Cara needs a new career. And a career just happens to be what Lacey understands best.    

For Cara and Lacey, coping with the empty nest means reinventing their lives without losing their sanity. Where the Greener Grass Grows is the story of two mothers learning to live, to laugh and to let go.

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EXCERPT:

Sunday, August 26, 2010

Empty Nest

Have you ever noticed how quiet a house can be after a teenager leaves it? It’s like all of those decibels that have been screaming through the air for the last eight years have come to a sudden halt. I can hear buzzing in my ears, it’s so quiet.

Three years ago, I realized it was almost time. When Abby started the tenth grade, I began telling myself it wouldn’t be much longer. Sometimes, I said this with more than a little relief. For instance, what single mother has never muttered under her breath, at least once, “just two more years and I can get in there and fumigate that room”? Of course you have. Admit it.

Well, at least now the room is clean. I had forgotten the child had a floor in there. The mp3 player is quiet and there’s no chattering on the telephone. I’m trying to remember the last time the house has been this quiet. A year ago, it would’ve been bliss.

Now it isn’t. Remember all of those things you tell yourself you’re going to do whenever the kids leave home? I forgot most of them when she left. The rest were finished within four hours. I’m bored. I know it’s pitiful, but I’m new at this. Ideas would be appreciated. 
Posted by Lacey Gail at 14:52



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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Lin Brooks is a lifelong Southern girl who lives in Mobile, Alabama with her family. Lin is a lawyer, runner, mother, home improvement enthusiast and an avid reader with a bucket list that includes visiting Australia, running a marathon and trying every kind of margarita ever made.

Author page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005I56O5W

Blog:

http://lin-brooks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default

Don't forget to comment!



Thursday, November 8, 2012

Is Your Muse Wiggling A Finger And Saying Write... Write... Write...



It's check in day at the Rogues Angels blog. 

Time to pay the piper! How did you do?

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.

I made some new goals, tiny goals, and have been able to meet them. Set off for a birthday Disney World adventure so I haven't been writing for a couple of days. However, I have been taking tons of pictures.

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

Sunday, November 4, 2012

What To Do When It Rains... Curl Up And Read.

I love to read on a rainy day. Lately I've been so busy I haven't really had time to curl up and read. Here in Oregon it's been raining non-stop all week.  So today I mean to find a warm blanket and a good book and spend a portion of the day just for myself.

I'm going to curl up and read.


I Love the Highlands!

Highland Magic
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Scotland, Summer 1513:

For a moment the man's gaze met hers, bored into her heart, questioned. Blood curdling war cries rode the wings of death through the timeless night. Claymores clashed. Dark eyes the color of midnight flashed a challenge. The holy man's opponents hesitated then lunged once more.

Moonbeams reflected light from the gold chain he wore around his neck. Brown robes fell from massive shoulders. Three more enemies appeared from the trees. The priest fell to the ground, wounded by the broadside of his enemy's weapon. Motionless, he lay on her flower-strewn meadow, blood staining the grass and wildflowers, marring the colorful, summer landscape.

Keely Gray woke, heart pounding a rapid staccato. She pressed against her throbbing temples with sweat-slick palms, hoping to ease the horrific pain that always accompanied the dreams. Death--the scent of blood, fear and treachery still hung heavy in the darkened hut. The prickling sensation radiating from her spine to encompass her body was too familiar.

She listened and heard nothing.

A dark void impaled her. The usual night sounds stilled. She heard no hoot of owl, no chirp of crickets, no croak of frogs, nor could she hear the mournful sighing of the wind through the branches of the old oak trees.

Silence emptied her heart as well as her soul, leaving only an ever-present loneliness.

Keely wanted nothing more than to cuddle into her bed and pull the covers over her head. Despite the unspeakable agony deep in the pit of her stomach, she rose from her pallet. Her limbs trembling, she slipped a shapeless tunic over her head and soft-soled shoes onto her feet. As she swept past the front door, she grabbed her woolen cloak.

Light from a full moon illuminated the path. She could see, but she could also be seen, the moonlight both a curse and a blessing. Approaching the meadow she'd watched in her dreams, she slowed her pace and waited. Her fingers wound tightly around the amber pendant she always wore, her only keepsake from her mother.

The sounds and scents hovering on the wind would tell her if danger still lurked. Caution guided her. A vigilance she'd learned long ago held her motionless.

 A familiar dragging sound reassured her she wasn't alone. "Whipple?" she whispered.

A self-appointed guardian angel appeared as if from nowhere then nodded, though there was a wary cast to his faded blue eyes. "Aye, lass, I'm here. I heard ye leave your hut. I would not leave ye alone to face whatever dangerous mission awaited."

Keely waited for Whipple to close the distance between them before she spoke. "I would argue with you about your appearance here at this great hour, but I ken it would do no good. You should not be here. Your heart--"

Whipple spat. "My heart is fine."

She determinedly stepped forward, approaching the meadow of her dream, knowing she wouldn't like what she found.

"Have it your way, then." Given a choice, Keely wouldn't have come to this meadow. But she had to know the truth--had she seen the future or something happening at that very moment?

Whipple didn't reply. On his clubfoot, he followed her, his trailing leg sliding behind him with a soft swish. The hard thud of his crooked oak cane followed at a slightly skewed interval.

Together they crested the hill. Below her, she saw her dream. A priest lay on the ground, his head twisted at an odd angle. For a moment her heart stopped. She bit down on her lower lip while she studied the man.

Keely tried to ignore the helplessness pooling deep within, and attempted to push the burgeoning tears away. A frisson swept over Keely's skin.

She approached the priest cautiously; he could be playing with her, waiting for her to get within reach of those powerful hands.

Warily, she eyed Whipple. A few moments of silent observation convinced Keely the stranger wasn't lying in ambush. He was too still, not visibly breathing. Keely feared the man was dead. He lay utterly motionless; his limbs at awkward angles, his head wound oozing blood. The slow welling of blood from the wound told her he was still alive. She kneeled beside the priest. "He's not dead, Whipple." Her fingers hovered above his weak pulse. She watched the slight rise and fall of his sturdy, broad chest. Yet she did not dare touch him.

Whipple inhaled sharply. "Do ye mean to take him to your hut, lass? I cannae allow ye to do such a dangerous thing. Ye have no idea who or what he is. Ye do not ken his purpose here or his intent."

"He is a priest. Besides, there is nothing else we can do."

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Cliff Hanger Saturday: Excerpt from Highland Magic


We all love a cliffhanger. That is what keeps readers turning the pages and authors with smiles on their faces. 


Follow my tour with goddessfish.
The tour starts November 5th.


Cliffhanger: Highland Magic.

That woman is too damn beautiful. I don't know why I'm here, but something in my gut tells me my presence here is not in her best interest. I think I'd better take another long dip in the icy stream nearby. Doubt cold water will ease the heat sweeping inside. Don't know how long it has been since I had a woman but I sure do need one now.

Disgusted with himself, Ian whirled around knocking leaves and herbs from the table. Keely was so surprised by the abrupt movement she dropped the pan she was holding. Simmering broth spilled everywhere, quickly seeping into the floor.

"I don't know what got into me..." Ian's voice died. There was no point in telling Keely that her mouth was too tempting and her eyes were too big and too expressive to belong to a peasant girl with no defender--no protector. So Ian kept his mouth shut and tried to keep his mind away from the fey creature whose skin and hair smelled like crushed thyme and lavender.

"Your mother taught you the arts?" Ian asked after looking at the spilled brew. "You should best be careful with the knowledge and when you use your craft."

"Careful doesn't ease the pain of childbirth," she smiled softly, a wistful look in her expressive eyes. "Nor does it bring down a raging fever."

Ian rubbed his throbbing temples. He didn't want to believe Keely could be in any kind of trouble here. But he knew the ways of the Highlanders. Many were superstitious. She was probably safe living on the outskirts of the village. Yet his gut reaction told him she wasn't safe anywhere.

Before Ian could reply, a stray dog barked an alarm. Even as he turned toward the sound, Ian yanked Keely away from the door and into a far corner of the hut. He reached for the sword Keely had hung near the fireplace. An instant later his big body covered hers pinning her to the wall.

"Don't move. And stay inside," Ian breathed against Keely's ear, his voice a mere thread of sound.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Highland Magic

It's Ian's day on the Angels blog. I've given over "Guy Day Friday" on my personal blog to Genie Gabriel and her new release Challenging the Legacy.

Highland Magic goes on tour with goddessfish starting November 5th.
First stop:  http://www.krystalshannan.blogspot.com/?zx=f03b65c52ffac28a

Ian is the roguish second son, the one with no responsibilities. (he thinks) But he finds himself in the hands of Keely a witch woman and healer. She can see the future and has predicted the death of the Scottish King. Ian falls in love with her when he first opens his eyes. Yet he has no memory of his past or even his name.


Highland Magic the second book in the highland series:
Highland Honor and last Highland Song.

They stand alone but are better when read in order.

Excerpt:

"Beauty--" He murmured the first thought plummeting into his pounding head. He felt as if he'd slept beneath a herd of stampeding warhorses.

The woman before him was beautiful. He closed his eyes and opened them in a futile attempt to clear his hazy vision and his screaming temples. Despite the pain lancing through his head with every beat of his heart, he willed himself to be patient and quiet.

Holy Christ.

He must have died and gone to heaven. The woman was a saint. Pushing against the bed with the intention of rising, he fell back. Pain throbbing mercilessly in his head was a clear indication he was not in heaven.

"What?" Beauty moved from the pot bubbling over the fire. "You're awake?"

Her large amber-colored eyes rested on him and set his pulse clamoring. Her long sooty lashes fluttered closed for a moment, and when she looked at him again, a softly feminine smile curved upward on rose-pearled lips.

He stared at her, inhaling the sweet scent floating around her, memorizing the soft curve of her hip, the gentle sway of her rounded breasts. She was beside him, close, warm, smelling of cinnamon and spiced apples.

"Now, you cannot be falling back to sleep. I've questions for you to answer." She sat on a small wooden stool near the bed, her voice sending ripples of pleasure through him.

He reached out to her, thinking to touch her and wondering if her skin was soft and smooth, but the slight movement caused him the greatest agony. Her hands, the color of alabaster, were clenched tightly in front of her. When the single beam of light slanted across the floor and rested on raven locks tumbling off her shoulders and down the front of her bodice, his body tightened in anticipation. Promises of fantasies beyond his imagination flashed through his mind.



Thursday, November 1, 2012

Guard Your Muse Well




Yup They Do Exist!


It's check in day at the Rogues Angels blog. 

Time to pay the piper! How did you do?

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.

I had hoped to have the second chapter of Highland Miracle finished by this post. But I don't. I had a busy week pre-halloween. Sewing costumes and entertaining family for a week late birthday. I did, however, finish a scene plot for chapter 2 and I finally began a characterization chart for the hero of Highland Miracle, Sean Michael Sterling. 

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