February 23, 2012

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A Need for speed

February 21, 2012 By TaraNewlands Leave a Comment

I must admit it.  I’m a sucker for fast cars plus smooth chrome and steel.  The sound a new turbo charged engine makes me quiver at the knees.  That super charged feeling of excitement that I get hearing a fast car lead me to create my latest Whispers release.

Being an AmericaN, we’ve long been connected in an intimate way to our cars.  I remember as a female kid boasting with the boys about what car I’d get to  drive one day.  The machine topping the list was forever a mustang.  Every time, I’d see one cruising by on the street; I’d pant like an in love school girl.  Only the object of my attention and affection contained hard metal and plush leather seats.  Although, life’s seasons changed and a little girl grew up to marry her handsome prince, a fascination with  automobiles remained.

It was during my last visit to the Brighton speed trials that the idea for my latest release as Marina Cross, Jackie’s Red mustang was born.   This story of a Las Vegas city planner carried away on a night of high charged passion to push the limits of what she’d ever done before formed while listening plus watching automobiles of every shape and model tear along tarmac as they attempted to beat the speed trial  leader’s personal best.

Jackie’s story should resonate with people of all shapes and sizes that find their lives are carried away by form coupled with a function that overshadows some of the fun of just living.  I hope readers will find a reason to cheer, laugh and even feel a bit of excitement as Jackie takes on her lover in a sexy chase she secretly wants to lose to win.

Filed Under: Author's Blog, Erotic, Multicultural

Who are you callin’ an ugly baby!

February 20, 2012 By ElleEmriche 3 Comments

Of the three daughters my parents had, I was the middle child. You’ve heard of the middle child syndrome? Well, it’s real, it’s crippling and I didn’t outgrow it until age thirty or so — about the same time I grew a brain. Okay, to be perfectly accurate, I already had the brain, I just realized it actually functioned at about age thirty.
Within the family, I was known as many things, but at the top of their collective lists would be sensitive and overemotional to which I plead a resounding no contest. I was also laughingly tagged the ugly baby – which I now take objection to.
I don’t recall the first time a member of my family suggested that I was the ugly baby of the family; I only know it was a rather recurrent theme in our home. Every time the photo albums came out, there it was — a general marveling at what pretty babies my sisters were and, yes, you guessed it, laughter and comments about my little, pug nose, pale blue eyes and the fact that I didn’t have any hair. Even when I finally grew hair, it was so white-blonde, you could barely tell it was there.
To be fair, my family probably thought they were handling a basic fact of life with a certain amount of light humor. It’s either that or they’re all cruel and insensitive and surely it’s not that. I write this not to whine, although I’m awfully good at it, but because I think there may be a universal lesson in my Rejection of a long-held notion.
I gave birth to my first child, a daughter, when I was twenty-five. She came into the world with big, blue eyes and a head full of thick, dark hair. In fact, (little side story here) when I was in the final throws of delivery (the baby’s head had just crowned) my husband made the mistake of uttering, “where’d it get all that dark hair?”
Do you recall the scene in The Exorcist when Linda Blair’s head spins around and she spouts off obscenities in a deep, male voice? “Shuuuuuuuut uuuuuuup,” I roared in a voice that bore little if any similarity to my own. Poor man. He cowered immediately, as did many of the nurses in the room. I felt kind of badly about it once the pain had subsided and I no longer wanted to tear his head from his body.
Three and a half years later, I gave birth to twin daughters. It was a labor and delivery that convinced me I must have been a Nazi in a previous life, but that’s another story. The babies had light blue eyes, no hair and, even when they did grow some, it was so white-blonde you couldn’t see it very well. In short, they looked remarkably like me as a baby. And they were beautiful!
Now when I look back at my baby photos, I see a sweet looking baby with a soft expression. Would I have won any beautiful baby contests? Probably not — but I was a far cry from an ugly baby. It just goes to show how much ‘knowledge’ we accept about ourselves that’s based on other people’s opinions or cruelty or both.

Filed Under: Author's Blog, Featured

If There’s Love In Your Heart, Celebrate!

February 19, 2012 By LawrenceStovey Leave a Comment

By L. Allen Stovey – February 19, 2012
February 19th will always be special for me. Every little breeze whispers Barbara Louise. I look back, ponder the imponderable, and imagine the impossible. I come to know that two people in love are capable of raising children, and loving them forever.
After graduating from college, I took on the challenge of technical writing, and corporate publications management. After retiring, I wrote several fiction novels, and spent all of my time with Barb.
My long road to writing success has taught me to use rejection as my inspiration, to pick myself up, learn to do it better, and continue with my writing.
Are you ready to celebrate love? Listen to Wayne’s Song.In Love With You (I Am)

Finsh with, IN Danger’s Way, where love wins out in the end.

Thank you Whispers Publishing Staff for choosing me as one of your authors. Happy 6th anniversary!

I dedicate February 19th as Love Your Family Day. I love you, Mark, Lynnette, and Wayne. Be especially nice to your significant other: contact your mom, dad, brothers, and sisters. Spread love among your family and it will come back to yoU a thousand fold.

Archictectural Designs by Mark Stovey mstovey@gmail.com

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I HEAR VOICES

February 18, 2012 By GailKoger 11 Comments

I hear voices and see dead people. No, I’m not nuts. I’m psychic. I worked for a psychic hotline called Picas Moon. My specialty was Tarot Card readings. For only $3.99 a minute you got to chat with me, a real live, genuine, authentic, certified psychic. I even had a nice little certificate hanging on the wall of my cubicle that stated that fact. Want to know the future, need to connect with the spirit world or find the love of your life? Give me your Visa or Master Card numbers and I was yours for as long as you needed me or until your money ran out. It was a nice gig.

Until Madam Celeste called me into her office on Christmas Eve and instead of getting that nice bonus check I was expecting, I was laid off. Me? I was the only genuine, authentic psychic she had. The rest of bunch was delusional quacks, flat out liars and phony, no talent hacks. Okay, the delusional quacks were Madam Celeste’s daughters, and of course, they kept their jobs. Family is family no matter how incredibly awful their advice was. I foresaw a lawsuit in their immediate future.

Since I’m a genuine, authentic psychic I should have seen it coming. Right? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t predict my future. My life is basically a crap shoot just like everyone else’s and sometimes you roll snake eyes.

On Christmas morning I got hit with more bad news. My Aunt Sophie, another authentic psychic, had tracked me down and offered me my old job back. The one where I did séances that scammed grieving relatives out of their hard earned money. I hated every minute of it.

The only reason I stayed as long as I did was to protect my grandmother from Uncle Dante, the devil incarnate. But it was Aunt Sophie, his older sister that scared the piss out of me. She dabbled in the black arts and was known to have summoned a demon or two. When Granny Annabel died I made my escape and never looked back.

What was Aunt Sophie’s ultimatum? If I wasn’t back at the family compound in Seattle by New Year’s Day, she would turn my life into a living hell. She could and she did. My family members are not the nicest people in the world. In fact, most of them are scam artists, thieves or worse.

After Aunt Sophie put the word out, finding another psychic gig was nigh-on impossible. Because of the sucky economy I couldn’t even get a job at a local burger joint. Trying to get the State of Arizona to fork over unemployment benefits was even harder. The minute I mentioned I was a psychic it was over.

Out of desperation to prove to the clerk that I really was a genuine psychic I blurted out, “Your boyfriend, Mark, is cheating on you with your best friend, Martha.” The poor thing burst into tears and fled her window.

The nice security guard escorted me to a tiny waiting room and promised a supervisor would speak to me shortly. Was that shorthand for the police were coming? I hoped not.

Bored out of my mind, I flipped through an old Arizona Highways magazine and an article about Montezuma’s gold caught my attention. Gold! I could really use some of that Aztec gold about now.

Seems back in the early fifteenth century Cortez overran the great Aztec empire. To keep the greedy bastard from taking all his loot, Montezuma packed up his gold and with a small army guarding it, sent it north into what is now the canyon country of southern Utah. There, so the legend tells, his king’s treasure is still hidden.

The story got even more interesting. In 1921, Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, showed up in Kanab, Utah and convinced the town folk that he had a four centuries old map that would lead them to the long-lost treasure. He must have given one hell of a speech to get these hard working farmers to dig for gold, because gold fever hit with a vengeance.

Kanab’s elected mayor and city council were the first all petticoat government of that time. The women decided it was plain foolishness to share the treasure with the outside world and fines were levied for even uttering the word “treasure”. The ladies organized the treasure hunt like generals commanding an army. Each morning Kanab would empty and each night the deserted streets would fill up again. Since the town was the most inaccessible city in the United States it was easy to keep their secret. This went on for two years and lucky for me, they never found the treasure.

I gasped as a series of images flashed across my mind. An emerald eye set in a large gold amulet. Flickering torches revealed stucco warriors and a map etched into a stone. A dark malevolence guarded an eerily lit cavern filled with baskets of gold.

The visions were abruptly replaced by the image of a large, heavily muscled man with silver eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. His Hollywood good looks were marred by a scar across his right cheek. Somehow I knew he was an obnoxious, know-it- all prick, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

If he thought he could keep me from finding the gold, he was sadly mistaken. My eyes snapped open when Granny Annabel stated calmly, “He’s the one.”

I glared at her gypsy-like apparition. Granny always reminded me of an Italian Betty White. She refused to pass over until I found a strong man to protect me and she had been haunting me for three frickin’ years. “Sure he is. Just like the cop, the bouncer and Madame Celeste’s bodyguard were.”

“Beware of the Serpent,” she intoned and vanished.

Beware of the Serpent? What kind of mystical crap was that? I glanced down at the magazine and gold fever sank its claws into me. Okay, the fact that I was about to be evicted from my apartment, my car repossessed and the only thing in my refrigerator was some moldy cheese had a little to do with it. I mean finding the gold had to be easier than prying a check out of the state’s unemployment office. Right?

Little did I know my decision would forever change my life.

Leave a comment with an email address and you’re entered into my contest. Win a copy of one of my books or a pendant.

I Hear Voices is coming soon to Whispers

Gail

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Beware! Teen Driver

February 17, 2012 By W.LynnChantale 1 Comment

Yep, it’s that time of year again. Teen drivers. The first kid, no problem. I gave him all the book stuff probably from the time he was 12 or 13. I tried to do the same thing with kid #2, well…let’s just say there’s a learning curve. My 14 y/o is one of those meticulous kids. Things have to be a certain way and I’m cool with that, but driving ya have to be a little flexible. Let me see if I can remember one of the questions he asked me. oh yeah

The guide sigNs on the side of the road give directions to  A) lodging B)gas stations C)rest areas D)the nearest hospital.

I know it’s been 20 years since I took driver’s ed in school, but since when did they start calling them guide signs?

Here’s another question: If there is no posted speed limit, what is the maximum speed you can drive through a residential area?

Questions I can answer, I can even sit in the car and offer pointers. Since I don’t drive child #2 will also become my designated driver. As we prepare for this momentous occasion, my husband is taking the child on the road today. If you live in my area, you’ve been warned…

Until next time, Indulge Your Inner Romantic

Website: http://wlynnchantale.com

Blog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantale

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor

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February 14 Missing Post

February 16, 2012 By EmPetrova 2 Comments

It’s come to my attEntion that the February 14 post is missing! Here’s a little eye candy to make up for it!

Filed Under: Author's Blog

Movie Mania

February 16, 2012 By ChristineDePetrillo 4 Comments

Ever have an irrational love of a movie? You know, those movies that no one would ever think you would like, but you have to watch them if they happen to be on television. The ones that will stop you in your tracks, and no matter how busy you might be or how many to-dos there are on your To-Do List, you have to tune in and stay all the way to the end. I’ve got a few of these.

  1. Road House – 1989, Patrick Swayze, Kelly Lynch. Nothing but ass-kicking here, but I absolutely love it!
  2. Deperado – 1995, Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek. Again, more people getting beat up, but there are weapons disguised as guitar cases. C’mon, that’s cool!
  3. Unforgiven – 1992, Clint Eastwood. Umm, I’m sensing a theme here. Guess I like a good fight. This movie takes it out west though and the conflict is of the gun-slinging variety.
  4. Shawshank Redemption – 1994, Tim Robbins. I love how Tim Robbins plays his character. So quiet, yet powerful.
  5. Goodfellas – 1990, Robert De Niro. No movie list is complete without a little Italian seasoning, right?
  6. The Birds – 1963, Rod Taylor, Tippi Hedren. Despite the fact that I get wary of birds after viewing this movie, it does remind me of the power of nature.
  7. Sixteen Candles – 1984, Molly Ringwald. Okay, people would expect me to like this one, but there is no logical reason why I continually watch it. I mean, I’ve seen it hundreds of times. HuNdreds! What do I hope to achieve by re-watching it? What?

I’m going to stop here on number 7, which is kind of a big deal, because I don’t like odd numbers. Yeah, I’m…quirky like that. I invite you to check out any of these movies and see if they capture you like they’ve gotten a hold of me. In fact, it’d be nice to know if they did. Then I wouldn’t feel so weird about loving these flicks. I wouldn’t be the only one.

What movies would you add to this list? Are there ones I’m missing out on? Do tell.

Visit me at www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com to see all my books and find out about my other “quirks.”

Oooh, Desperado is on! Got to go!

Toodles,

Christine

Filed Under: Author's Blog

Linda Kage, the…um…speaker today!

February 15, 2012 By LindaKage 5 Comments

Since I work at a college library, it was bound to leak to the English Department that I write fiction stories under the pen name Linda Kage. I’m also an alumni from this college, so the they call me a success story. Not sure why, maybe because I’ve actually attempted to get published, I dunno.

Anyway, the library is located directly acrOss the street from the English department so it’s been way too easy for an old professor to contact me and say, “Hey, Linda. Want to come and talk to my class today? We’ve got a couple students this semester interested in writing.”

This has happened to me twice.

I am NOT a speaker. Never have been, never will be. I just don’t do good at standing up in front of people. In fact, I even suck and one-on-one conversation. The only reason my hubby and I hit it off is because the blessed man could probably carry on a conversation all by himself. All I have to do is smile and nod, and throw in a couple “I understands.”

So when a professor asks me to come to her class to talk, I immediately break out in a cold sweat.

But I say okay. Sure. And run me over with a car while you’re at it (fine, I just THINK the run-me-over-with-a-car part!).

The first time I spoke with a class, my boss (who is also a writerly guy) went with me, and we both sat around this conference table thing and told our stories about how we got published. I stumbled over my words and filled gaps with plenty of uhs and ums and ands. These students were graduate students (a little older) and none of them were really into FICTION writing. They looked extremely bored; I think one girl fell asleep.

It was miserable.

The second time through, (different teacher–same conference table classroom) was much better. I still went in feeling sick to my stomach, of course. But the professor told me it would be a very relaxed, informal thing, so I tried not to prepare much so I couldn’t freak myself out beforehand (totally backwards thinking, I know!).

This second time through, I went at it alone. The students had to be freshmen; they looked so young. They were a chattier, livelier bunch, and they ASKED QUESTIONS, questions they actually wanted answered.

I guess I’ve been in writing stuff so long it didn’t even occur to me that I’d have to explain how ebook royalties are higher than print books, but they typically don’t sell as well. Then these wonderful, curious students wanted to know things like how many pages to put on their websites. They even asked about writing in general: do I have apprehensions about people reading my work, do I stumble through endings? Well yeah, doesn’t everyone?? But they hadn’t ever talked to someone who’d been the whole way through a publishing adventure, even a small-potatoes adventure like mine!

I went away from that experience feeling jazzed and ready to write. So I have to conclude, the audience is an integral part of a speaker’s lecture. Makes me wish I could go back to school (not really) so I could be a better student and actually participate in classroom discussions!

Since my husband went to DARE training, he learned a nifty trick about speaking which he told me about before my big speech. One thing you can do is take an opinion poll, like, ask how many people gathered are interested in writing. When someone raises their hand, you single them out and ask more questions. “Oh really and what do you write?” then ask more questions, to get the discussion rolling.

I was too afraid to use that technique, but it sounds like a great idea for other speakers out there to keep in mind for the next time they have to get up in front of a crowd and talk about their stories.

Sooo….Good luck to all you future speakers out there who will talk about your stories. I empathize with you. REALLY!

Now….If the crowd feels you, you’ll do fine! No worries.

Filed Under: Author's Blog

Roses are Red

February 13, 2012 By W.LynnChantale Leave a Comment

We’ve been celebrating Valentine’s Day all weekend. We exchanged gifts on Saturday. My hubby gave me the prettiest pink roses, Sunday we went on a Murder/Mystery Dinner Train, which I adore. Have you ever been to one of these. A Murder/Mystery doesn’t have to be on a train, it can occur on a boat or at a birthday party or even a fundraiser.

It’s amazing how the actors never broke character, even with some of the comments from the audience. Let’s see, last’s night fun was who killed Howie Cheatum, the much despised owner of the Cheatum Academy for Wayward Girls. The school prepared its alum for life on the streets. Everything from Chemistry and Math for users…to Hot Ice Arts & Crafts. Ah yes, such fun and of course there were plenty of suspects, Angel from the Deathino Crime Family, he stole her patent, the disgruntled ex-wife who gave Howie “the best years of her thighs,” Coach Pat a cross dressing bank robber, and Sunny Deposition, who just wanted to get into lawyer school.

So now it’s baCk to reality and work. Thankfully that wall I hit for both WIPs was knocked down. I guess I just needed to get out the house for a bit of fun.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Until next time, Indulge Your Inner Romantic

Website: http://wlynnchantale.com

Blog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantale

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor

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Day 3 Whispers Publishing Pitch Contest

February 12, 2012 By EmPetrova Leave a Comment

Whispers Publishing, a boutique publisher renowned for award-winning romance of all heat levels, as well as interracial and multicultural romance, will be actively taking pitches in all romance genres. Stories must have strong, sophisticated plots. We’d like to see new twists on paranormal, sci-fi, contemporary, fantasy, and historical westerns. We’re also searching for suspense and thrillers with or without romantic elements.

Polish your 3-line pitches and join us on the Whispers Publishing blog Feb 10 at midnight EST to Feb 12 at midnight EST. MaNuscript you pitch must be completed. Top five pitches will be fast-tracked to our editors and will receive a response within two weeks. In addition, first ten entries will receive a private critique of their pitch! Mark your calendars, and check out our submissions guidelines here: http://whispershome.com/submissions/

Please put your pitches in the comments section. We look forward to reading them!

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