Fess Up Muse: What Were You Doing Last Week?

It's A Small World:

All Lit Up For Christmas.

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 didn't write anything last week but I shot well over 500 pictures. I spent 8 days in Anaheim, 6 of them in the Disney Land and California Adventures Park. Now it's back to work and finishing Highland Miracles.

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

We vampires do not make easy prey.

Please welcome Matthew D. Ryan author of Drasmyr.



Matthew will be awarding a set of metal miniatures: 3 Nosferatu Vampires (US only) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Please leave a comment for the author.

Drasmyr

by Matthew D. Ryan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

We vampires do not make easy prey. Our weaknesses are few, our strengths many. Fear is something we do not know, and death but a distant memory. So tread softly, pray to your god, and gird yourself with silver when the moons arise and night’s dark prince awakens. We fear not the wizard, nor the warrior, neither rogue, nor priest; our strength is timeless, drawn from darkness and we know no master save the hot lust of our unending hunger. We long for blood, your blood and no blade, nor spell, nor clever artifice, can keep us long from our prize. Feel our teeth at your throat, your life ebb from you, and know as darkness comes to claim you that the price of your folly is your everlasting soul.

***

In Drisdak, the city on the Sea of Sorrows, the citizens have much to dread. Unease and foreboding has always been associated with the local wizards guild; peasants have an innate distrust of magic and those who use it. But now, something else is on the rise. A mysterious fire at the guild has left two men dead and a third missing. A small matter, you say? Well, one of those men was the guild master, and his successor wants to know what happened to him. Enter Coragan of Esperia, the renowned bounty hunter. If anyone can unravel this mess he can. But is even he prepared to challenge the horrible evil that lurks at the heart of the mystery? An ancient vampire by the name of Lucian val Drasmyr.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT:

There’s a woman in chain mail standing across the room from me; her sword is leveled at my chest. I can smell the enchantment on the blade, it’s a strong one; maybe even strong enough to cause me harm. Still, I’m not too concerned; it’s at least a ten foot lunge and I know I move faster than she does. Indeed, she’s the one who is looking worried. My display of strength and the death of her comrade have shaken her resolve.

           

She’s got a pretty face, flushed with excitement but strong and in control. It is her neck that really draws me, though, so soft and inviting, filled with the warm blood I desire. The curve of her flesh glistens, waiting for a well-placed gentle kiss.

She’s breathing rapidly now, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her trek up through the castle has sapped much of her strength. And the fear she feels is naked in her eyes. Now, she’s getting ready to pounce, just a little too much tension in her stance, her eyes just a little too focused. She couldn’t give me more warning if she were to ask my permission first.

           

She moves in with remarkable speed, her blade striking out like a serpent’s tongue. Even winded, she still manages to cut my cape, then prances away with her back toward the wall, ready for anything. Anything, except me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Matthew D. Ryan is a published author living in upstate New York on the shores of Lake Champlain. He has a background in philosophy, mathematics, and computer science. He also has a black belt in the martial arts and studies yoga. He has been deeply involved in the fantasy genre for most of his life as a reader, writer, and game designer. He believes he saw the legendary Lake Champlain Monster (a.k.a Champy) once and he has a cat named Confucius.

Author’s Smashwords Page: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/matthewdryan

Author’s Book Page: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/131156

Author’s Blog: http://www.atoasttodragons.com

Author’s Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000038781652

Author’s Twitter Handle: @MatthewDRyan1

Author’s Goodreads Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/579148.Matthew_D_Ryan

Author’s Shelfari Page: http://www.shelfari.com/matthewdryan/shelf

The book is available on Smashwords, Amazon, BN and elsewhere for free.

Don't forget to leave a comment.

           

Joker's Wild - Part 2

Joker's Wild

by

C. L. Kraemer

This biker is father to four and grandfather to eight. He's a brother, son, husband and gentle heart. Proves the saying: Don't judge a book by the cover. 

About the book: How can the justice system go so horribly wrong in passing judgment on a convicted drunk driver who killed an innocent man? Joey Palmer asks himself the same question and can't find the answer -- yet.

________________________________________________________________

Excerpt from Joker's Wild by C. L. Kraemer

Brown sticky air weighed heavily on the riding pair. As quickly as he could, Joey maneuvered the motorcycle to I-5 North heading out of the congestion of downtown Los Angeles. Using the California law of splitting lanes, he bypassed the traffic sitting still and quickly exited to Hwy 14 heading north to Palmdale/Lancaster. He drove wildly not slowing his pace until after he passed the Acton exits. Only then did he roll back on the throttle.

The sooner I’m out of LA the better.

His shoulders relaxed and he leaned into Kandi. She slid her hands around his waist and squeezed. The hot wind blew into his face but the feeling of freedom overrode any discomfort. Driving a familiar path, he left the freeway on the second Palmdale exit and headed north. The dry dusty landscape soon gave way to rolling hills bearing a bit of green from the spring rains. The two-lane road undulated around the edge of the lake. Sitting on the San Andreas Fault, it was one of a series of sag ponds created by the teutonic plates. Cool air from the water drifted to the edges of the road caressing the hot, dusty riders.

Soon the hillsides were dotted with homes and the signs of civilization became evident. Joey slowed to the posted speed limit.

Kandi felt the muscles in his body loosen up. This ride and Dottie’s Hideaway always refreshed them. Today was going to be no exception. She figured talking him into staying at least one night wouldn’t be a problem.

Outside the rocky front of Dottie’s, lining the length of the building was every conceivable combination of motorcycle. There were hardcore Harleys of all descriptions to Japanese speed bikes. This was a destination for many riders, Joey and Kandi included.

Joey waited for a spot near the door, sliding his bike into the opening. Kandi opted to dismount before he backed the bike in; removing her helmet once she was on solid ground. She watched him leg out the kickstand and dismount before she attempted to settle her helmet on the sissy bar.

The Hideaway was bustling with activity.

“Damn lot of people here today,” Joey grumbled.

Kandi ran her finger through her hair trying her best to eliminate as much ‘helmet hair’ look as she could.

“Could be because it’s spring vacation. Not everybody works seven days a week, Joey.”

“Might help the economy if they did.” He turned to her and lowered his voice. “Most of these so-called bikers are RUBs, anyway.”

She tossed a scowl his direction he ignored. “There’s nothing wrong with Rich Urban Bikers. Their money is just as green.”

He humphed.

Kandi pulled in and slowly released a deep breath. She knew the signs—Joey was determined to be miserable. Nothing she could try would jar him from his mood. Today’s final hearing about his brother’s death had been difficult to sit through. Everything Joey was today he owed to his brother Alex.

When Alex had followed his dream of becoming a stunt man to Hollywood, Joey had been his biggest proponent. After becoming Corey Rigby’s stunt double, Alex’s career had soared. He’d contacted Joey to move to California with him. Floating a bit aimlessly in the Northwest, Joey jumped at the chance. He brought his sheet metal and tube bending skills with him and soon was working in the aerospace industry in the Antelope Valley. On the side, he helped Alex create safety aids for his stunts in the movies. The partnership had saved Alex’s life on more than one occasion.

When the Highway Patrol officer showed up at Joey’s work that fateful day eighteen months ago, he suspected Alex was hurt. The officer told Joey the worst news possible; Alex was dead. Not in a movie stunt but from an apparent auto accident after a day’s shoot. At first, the accident was written off as just that—an accident, but Joey was livid at the slap on the wrist the authorities gave Corey. Having his brother so close to the movie star, he knew the man had a bad drinking problem and had escaped justice several times. He decided to sue for wrongful death.

The trial today was the final phase of a year’s long attempt to get justice for his brother, and Joey wasn’t pleased with the results.

Kandi knew in the bottom of her heart she needed to help Joey find a solution. She trailed behind him as he meandered into the restaurant and lounge. The cacophony of voices set the nerves on her skin to tingling. She turned around to speak to him and stared into space. He’d disappeared in the breadth of a second.

“Kandi!”

She jerked her head in the direction of his voice. He’d secured two seats by the window. She wound her way through the tables and sat in the chair. The interior was deceptive. Large windows allowed the bright day to light the room but drew in warmth. High overhead fans were twirling rapidly but barely moving the body heat put out by the filled tables of customers.

“I ordered a gin tonic and sweet tea for you. Hope that’s okay.”

She graced him with a smile.

“Of course. I’m going to visit the facilities. I’ll be back.”

He nodded absently and resumed watching the street traffic.

Kandi navigated the tight tables and rushing waitresses to visit the women’s restroom located outside in a separate building. As she stood waiting for one of the stalls to empty, her eyes were caught by a colorful flyer on the bathroom door.

Presented by Wyvern Riders MC

Brother Can you Spare a Ride?

From Mojave to Lake Hughes

To East Lancaster and back

Ride to stop hunger in the AV

Kandi glanced around and quietly took the poster down. She examined the paper and realized the nagging at the back of her head was because the picture of the dragon in flight was identical to a couple pins she’d seen earlier today. The lawyer and judge wore silver tie tacks that resembled the dragon at the top of the flyer. Stuffing the announcement in her purse she realized this could be the key for revenge Joey needed. Already her mind was racing and a plan was forming. She’d talk him into staying the night, as planned, and present her thoughts to him after a night of drinking and frolicking.

She exited the stall and nodded at the next person waiting in line.

Alex’s death would be avenged—with flair.

 

Joker's Wild

Joker's Wild

by 

C.L. Kraemer

Motorcycles--you either love 'em or you hate 'em. Doesn't seem to be an in between for most people. Me? I love them. Especially the above pictured, leather clad gent with the big red Harley. It's because of our association with so many riders, I got the idea for the book, Joker's Wild. Most of the 'bikers' I know personally are hard-working family people who happen to love riding a motorcycle. 

Excerpt:

2004

The squeak of his teeth against each other reverberated in Joey’s ears.

“Joey? Joey!”

The plaintive cry brought his attention back to the moment. Kandace, Kandi, O’Connell ripped her hand from his, rubbing the appendage and pushing her bottom lip into a formidable pout.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You nearly crushed my fingers!”

He resumed glaring across the courtroom at the dapper figure vigorously shaking the lawyer’s hand.

“Joey! What is your problem?” Kandi sidled up to the man, running her hand along his muscled arm.

He slowly pivoted her direction staring in disbelief.

“Do you think he got what he deserved?”

The couple glanced at the defense table. Corey “Slide” Rigby grinned at the mob of young females clustered near the waist high, wooden retainer separating the spectator section from the main body of the courtroom. Bentley Wellington IV snapped his briefcase closed and looked up at the Hon. Scott Fournier, currently vacating the bench; few noticed the slight nod passing between the two.

Joey surveyed the growing mayhem in the courtroom.

“I need to get some fresh air.” He powered through the writhing mass of humanity trying to grab the attention of the action adventure star and marched to the peristyle.

Kandi scrambled to keep up with his strides, dodging the gauntlet of pushing cameramen and reporters shoving microphones in her face and shouting questions at her.

Joey steered them to the side of the building away from the media circus.

“Damned vultures.” He reached around to his hip pocket and withdrew the round tin whose impression was permanently stamped on all the back pockets of his jeans. Twisting the lid, he snagged a pinch of brown flakes between his thumb and forefinger. Using his middle finger, he tucked the flakes inside his bottom lip.

“I really wish you’d give that up. It’s disgusting.” Kandi wrinkled her nose.

“I suppose your herb habit is any better?”

 Kandi sniffed. “It’s medicinal.”

“Right, and I’m a virginal school girl.”

The crowd in front of the building began buzzing until the sound engulfed the immediate area. Cameramen and reporters started spreading across the lawn and down the side corridors of the building edging toward the couple.

“Must be the star making his appearance,” Joey stepped off the concrete walkway onto the manicured lawn and peered at the building’s facade. The wide sidewalk in front of the judicial edifice was a sea of reporters clutching microphones aimed in the direction of a podium.

When the action hero stepped up to the provided mike, multiple voices vied for the attention of the man.

The actor flashed his best on-screen smile to the mob and raised a hand.

“I’ll get to all your questions—later. Right now I need to give credit where credit is due…”

Joey curled up one corner of his mouth and turned from the scene. A familiar form caught his attention and he slowed his gait as he watched Bentley Wellington IV casually slip from the gathered insanity.

Odd. I’ve never seen him relinquish the limelight. He shadowed the lawyer, ducking behind the columns when the man glanced over his shoulder. As Bentley neared the main building, a side door swung open and Judge Fournier stepped into the breezeway. Joey darted to a pillar near the pair. He watched as the lawyer reached into an inner pocket of his suit coat and retrieved a bulging sealed envelope. He started to hand the packet to the judge, glancing Joey’s direction.

Joey slipped behind the post, holding back a well chosen swear word.

“I believe this is yours. I found it in my briefcase this morning.”

The crinkle of paper tickled Joey’s ears. Another familiar sound reached him.

“Uh, oh, oh my. I’m so sorry.”

Kandi. He couldn’t help himself; he peeked around the support. She was rising slowly and handing the envelope to the Judge with one hand, her opened cell phone in the other.

“No problem, miss. What are you doing here?” The tone of the question was tinged with suspicion.

“Isn’t this the door to the ladies’ room?”

Joey stuck his crooked forefinger between his front teeth and resumed his hiding spot. He could imagine her big green eyes, luminescent in the refracted light of the windows as she ran her pink tongue over her plump melon tinged lips.

Silence permeated the moment.

One of the men cleared his throat.

“No, ma’am. The public entrance is back down the breezeway and to the right. I’m sure one of the reporters will be glad to direct you from there.”

He could hear Kandi giggle. “I’m so directionally challenged. Thank you.”

The click of her heels on the concrete echoed against the building. Joey held his position.

“Do you think she knows?” The voice sounded like the lawyer’s.

“No. She’s too dumb. Did you see her… assets?”

Joey ground his right fist into his left palm.

“Yeah. That’d sure look good on the back of my Fatboy.”

Both men laughed and the tension filling the air dissipated.

“You doing the Jay Leno ride?”

“Naw. The inlaws are in town and I’m going to have to pretend to be a good husband.”

“Better you than me. Maybe we can sneak in a quick ride to Donna’s Hideaway on Sunday.”

“I might be able to finagle my way free for the afternoon. I’ll get hold of you by Sunday morning.”

“Not too early. Unlike you, I have no wife…”

“Currently.”

“…yeah, whatever. So I plan on hitting the clubs on Saturday night. Don’t call before ten.”

“It’s going to take us a couple hours just to get there.”

“Yep. That’s why it’s called a road trip.”

The sound of footsteps ricocheted back to Joey and he ventured to peek from behind his column.

 He was about to walk toward the front of the building and locate Kandi when a pair of hands grabbed his side.

“Boo!”

He snapped around arm cocked, hand fisted.

Her eyes were wide and rounded, her face devoid of all color.

“Christ, Kandi. I nearly hit you!”

“S-s-sorry.”

She wiggled her cell phone back and forth in front of him.

“I got pictures of the envelope,” her sing-song announcement reminded Joey of his six year old nephew.

“Terrific. You have pictures of a white envelope stuffed with…”

“Money.” Kandi closed her eyes. “My favorite.”

“… strips of paper cut in the shape of dollar bills.”

“WHAT?!” Kandi’s eyes popped open.

Joey put his hand over her mouth and snugged her to him. “Shhh.”

The two legal figures standing near the undulating crowd of reporters soon disappeared into the mass.

Joey peeked from behind his stanchion and swore under his breath. His gaze fell to the furious green eyes trying to burn a hole through his head.

“That’s the story they would tell anyone who asked. You don’t think they’ll admit to an exchange of money? And face it, sweetheart, you’re not a very reliable witness.”

“OUCH!” He whipped his hand from her mouth. “That hurt!”

Kandi stepped away from him. “Then don’t put it where it doesn’t belong.” She stomped toward the parking lot.

Joey caught up with her and slipped his hand through her arm turning her to face him. He pulled her wiggling body to him and caught her lips beneath his own. The maneuver worked. He felt her relax.

Breaking off the kiss he put his lips next to her ear. The floral smell of her shampoo tickled his nose and he pulled in the fragrance.

“Sorry, Babe. We just need to be smarter than they are.”

She looked up into eyes brimming with pain and gently kissed his chin. “I know. We’ll think of something.”

“Right now, I’m in the mood for a road trip. Feel like going to Donna’s?”

“I was hoping you’d want to ride. I traded shifts with Ally so I don’t have to be back to work for two glorious days.”

The pair headed to the parking lot avoiding the gaggle of television crews intent on getting the first scoop in the Alex Palmer vs Corey Rigby wrongful death suit.

Joey swung his leg over the bike and backed it out into the street. Kandi stepped on the peg and flipped her leg over the backrest. Pushing the button to start the bike, Joey gave the throttle a full twist. The engine roared to life echoing off the surrounding towering high-rises as the back tire spun in place filling the parking lot with billowing, acrid white smoke.

Recognizing the maneuver, Kandi wrapped her arms around Joey’s waist and clinched shut her eyes.

The motorcycle screeched out of the lot leaving a black rubber streak on the pavement. When the smoke cleared, the bike and its occupants were nowhere to be seen.

Corey Rigby stepped back from the microphone and searched the crowd for his lawyer. He stood at the podium alone. Cameras zoomed in to feature his pale, sweating face. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the courthouse.

The gauntlet had been slammed down with smoking force. 

Joker's Wild is scheduled to be released in March 2013 by RoguePhoenixPress.

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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