I’ve been remiss in writing book reviews, and I aim to make up for it over the next few weeks. I have a fantasy that one day I will be very, very organized, and these periodic mea culpa posts will be things of the past. Right. Without further ado …
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Linda G. Hill is a prolific writer, supermom, and all-around nice person. When I say she’s prolific, well, just take a tour of her website at https://lindaghill.com/
I moan and groan about trying to write when I have a full-time job, but Linda has three sons which means she’s on the day job 24/7. Even my cats can’t compete with that since they spend large chunks of their day sleeping. But I digress.
This review of Linda’s earliest published novel, All Good Stories, is so long overdue. I read All Good Stories about two years ago while on a winter weekend camping trip. A light, entertaining, and quirky romance, it was the perfect e-book to bring along. After a day of frolicking among the trees, I’d snuggled into my sleeping bag, fire up my Kindle, and step into Xavier and Jupiter’s world, two best friends who discover their feelings for each other the hard way.
For a story written “off the cuff,” Hill’s characters are well-developed, interesting, and, best of all, people I’d like to meet and have a coffee with. You know from the get-go that Xavier and Jupiter belong together, and you root for that to happen. The story is well-paced and, yes, there’s a lovely twist at the end. All Good Stories made me smile … often. If you need a pick-me-up, an escape from the daily drama of the world, you need look no further than All Good Stories.
In case any new readers come across this post: It’s all good. I’ve received credit for any sales made through this link: http://www.zpublishinghouse.com/?rfsn=1648278.3e0285
Patience is not one of my virtues, but I’m working on it ;)
This post is not about hawking the anthology, however. A couple of wonderful supporters have already indicated that they purchased the anthology using the links I provided yesterday. Their generosity should result in a decent commission for me; yet, those sales have not shown up and I have to wonder if there is something wrong with the URL. (Although what it could it be, who knows? Both I and a friend used the link to purchase the anthology, and those sales have shown up.)
I have a small favor to ask.
If you did click on the link provided in my blog post and purchased the anthology Florida’s Emerging Writers (or any publication on Z Publishing’s website), please email your name and order number to me at marieannbailey[at]gmail[dot]com
With your name and order number, I can follow up with Z Publishing and (hopefully) resolve this issue. I hope this doesn’t seem petty, but if anyone is purchasing the anthology in order to support me, well, it’s only fair that I receive the support.
I always think of Friday the 13th as a lucky day for me, even if the luck only extends as far as nothing bad happening on that day. This Friday the 13th started off ominously though, putting me in a funk that lasted all the way to bedtime when my luck finally changed.
As I do every morning, I was sitting with a cup of coffee in my favorite corner of our couch, a heated wrap around my neck to ease my cervical arthritis. I had been fairly upbeat the day before, since Thursday is the day before Friday which is the day before the weekend. Those two days a week–Saturday and Sunday–I practically live for. But I digress.
So I’m nestled in the corner, sipping hot coffee, poking around on my iPad as the fog from my brain slowly clears when I sniff and my sinuses contract. I quickly shoo away the first thought that comes to mind. “No, no, no! I do not want to deal with this. Not this early in the morning!” I proceeded to ignore what my nasal passages were practically screaming at me, forcing me to breath deeper as the scent overwhelmed my senses, yet I recoiled at the thought of the obvious.
Finally I took my last sip of coffee, put the mug down, the iPad away and got down on my hands and knees. Granted, I did have to put my nose practically into the thick pile of our area rug, but there was no denying it, no way to ignore it.
Cat pee. Old cat pee. I looked up at Maxine, innocently curled up on the back of the couch.
What? Who, me?
Maxine is now 14 1/2 years old and lately we’ve been having some issues around her “inappropriate elimination.” Long story short: we resolved some of this peeing in all the wrong places by doubling her dosage of Cosequin. Cats, as many of you know, are stoic creatures. They keep their pain to themselves; if they choose to let you know, it’s often in oblique ways such as peeing in all the wrong places. Our theory is that Maxine, due to her age, probably has pain or at least discomfort in her hips and the trip from the back porch or from the living room to the nearest litter box is a road too far. When we doubled her Cosequin (that is, giving her a dose with her morning meal as well as her nighttime meal), she perked up, became more alert and interactive, and ceased to pee in the living room. (The back porch is still an issue, probably because she has to use steps and a cat door to get in and out.)
But apparently that didn’t mean that we had found and cleaned up all the places she had peed on in the past couple of months. So the morning of Friday the 13th, before I went to work, I pulled the area rug from the living room, wrestling it from underneath a rather large ottoman and rolling it up so I could drag it into the garage where it can stay forever as far I’m concerned. I’m a bit of a skeptic when it comes to getting rid of the smell of cat urine; fortunately, my husband has taken on the task of soaking the porch rug with Nature’s Miracle, sucking up the residue with a shampooer, and repeating … indefinitely.
That was the start of my Friday the 13th. The rest of the day was filled with angst. I could barely motivate myself to answer emails. I didn’t go for a walk during the workday because, as per summer in Florida, it was too effing hot and humid. A twenty-minute promenade around the complex leaves me with sweat stains in all the wrong places. I almost blew off going to the gym after work. I’m glad I did go since I needed to work off some negative energy, but the road trip from my workplace to the gym is like the highway from Hell.
Eventually I made it home, disgruntled and peevish (my husband’s word). He had spent the day cleaning the porch rug. We had dinner, drank wine and watched an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise. We got ready for bed. What happened next returned the luck to Friday the 13th.
I flipped open my iPad, something I don’t often do right before bedtime and I can’t say why I did it this night. But I did. On the screen, a series of email notifications bubbled up. One was from Z Publishing. The subject line was “Your Submission Decision.” The first sentence of the email read “We at Z Publishing House would like to congratulate you for having your writing accepted into our upcoming Florida’s Emerging Writers publication!”
It’s all a blur after that. I think I started shouting. My husband ran into my room. I read him the email. We’ve been celebrating every since.
Way back in April, I received an email from one of the staff at Z Publishing, inviting me to submit some of my writing for their upcoming series of America’s Emerging Writers. She had visited my blog and thought I might be interested. Well, that was an understatement. I did a quick search on Z Publishing, found a forum on Reddit that pretty much verified the entity as legit so I went to work. I managed to pull together five short short stories–the word count is 1250–and sent them in. I had only a couple of days to meet the early bird deadline, and my husband remembers very well how I closed myself up in my room tweaking those short stories to fit Z’s requirements … and still make sense.
Ever since I have been waiting. Now I know that three months is not a long time to wait to hear from a publisher, but I don’t do this very often. Well, actually, I don’t do this. I can count on one hand the number of submissions I’ve made in the last several years.
The publication date is September 6, with preorders available starting August 6. At that time, I’ll join their affiliates program and will be able to provide you all with a link to Z Publishing so you can purchase Florida’s Emerging Writers or any book that strikes your fancy. I will get a commission for any sales that come through that link. That’s icing.
The cake is the publication of one of my stories in a printed book.
The luck of Friday the 13th has been redeemed.
One last thing: I really owe it to ALL of you for being part of my life, for encouraging me, following my blog, reading and sharing my stories and WIPs. I know this is a very small success, and I won’t stop here.
Today I am psyched to help promote a new book co-written by John Howell and Gwen Plano. They are both wonderful people and writers, and their new novel is definitely on topic for the time we live in. Read on for more about …
The CONTRACT between heaven and earth
By John W. Howell & Gwen M. Plano
Thank you, Marie for inviting us to join you today. We are so grateful to be featured on your blog to share a bit about our new book. We know your passion is knitting and related arts and respect the amout of work that goes into each piece. We thank you for taking the time away from this advocation to help spread the word.
The CONTRACT is a different story for writers John W. Howell and Gwen M. Plano. For either of them, it is their first attempt at co-authorship. After a year of Hurricane Harvey and other challenges, they have created, what they have termed, an inspirational thriller that bridges heaven and earth.
Here is the blurb:
The earth is threatened with a catastrophic political event which could result in international warfare and destroy all life on the planet. In heaven, a divine council decides that extraordinary measures are essential. They call for an intervention that involves two souls returning to earth. The chosen two sign a contract that they will work to avert the disaster.
Brad Channing, a Navy SEAL, and Sarah O’Brien, a teacher, become heaven’s representatives on earth. The story follows them as they individually and then together face overwhelming obstacles and eventually end up on a strategic Air Force base in California. It is there that they discover a conspiracy to assassinate the President of the United States. The terrorists have a plan for global dominance, and they are determined to complete their mission. Although military leadership appears to have the President’s best interests at heart, it is not clear who can be trusted and who should be feared. The action is rough and tumble as Brad and Sarah try to figure out the culprits for the plot that will turn into a worldwide conflagration unless stopped.
If you enjoy thrillers, this is one with enough twists and adventure to keep you riveted and guessing. If you like your thriller along with a good romance, Brad and Sarah’s initial attraction and eventual love will sustain you as they live out their heavenly and earthly desires.
The headline read: Russian Spies Infiltrate Suburban America,and just below the headline was a photo of Nika. Sarah froze and dropped her glass. She got up, and without picking up the glass, went inside to call her former neighbor.
“H-hi, Donna, it’s Sarah.”
“I’m so glad you called; I’ve been worried about you. Is everything okay?”
“I’m not so sure. I arrived today and have just begun to settle into my new home. I was at the grocery store a little while ago and picked up the local paper. I couldn’t believe what I read. Abram and Nika were identified as Russian spies.”
“It’s horrifying, Sarah. Everyone is shocked. Nika’s photo was on the front page of our newspaper.”
“Here as well. I’m speechless. I can’t believe that members of the Russian intelligence service lived in my house and had God knows what discussions with my ex-husband.”
“And, you have to wonder why, don’t you?”
Authors Bio.
John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. The last, Circumstances of Childhood is a family life thriller story and launched October 2017. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.
John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.
Gwen had a lengthy career in higher education, and it was there that she published her first book, Beyond Boundaries, for students interested in volunteer work in developing countries. After she retired, she wrote her award-winning memoir, Letting Go into Perfect Love.
I’m popping out of my self-imposed bubble long enough to share this essay by Anita Gill in BREVITY. So much of this short essay resonated with me and my perpetual struggle with my inner critic, and, of course, it prompted a comment from me. Please read the essay (and my comment below) and let me know: How do you handle your inner critic?
By Anita Gill On a chilly winter day in Oregon, Laura Hendrie, an award-winning fiction writer, gave a craft talk to a room full of graduate students on the topic of crafting the beginning lines of a story. She looked around the room and asked, “What is it about an opening that pulls me in […]
“And this would apply to fiction as well. Even when I’m purposely making things up, my inner critic argues against my authority to do so. The thing about memories–and why the inner critic can often win the battle against writing down memories–is that they are subjective. Your memory of a particular event may differ from every other person who witnessed that event. I’ve often gotten blank looks from family members when I recall an experience that I know we share, but they no longer remember … or choose not to remember. When I write down memories, my inner critic often takes on the voice of my mother or brother or sister, arguing against my version of events and whether I have the “right” to tell it as I remember it. If I go public, I risk being called a liar or of hanging out the family’s dirty laundry. So I write fiction, but my inner critic still knows what I’m up to. This essay is validating and makes it clear that the only way to silence my inner critic is to simply keep writing until my words drown her out.”
Here’s a medical thriller with a heavy dose of the supernatural! Carrie Rubin, author of Eating Bull and The Seneca Scourge, has a new novel available! It’s been getting great reviews which is no surprise to us who love Carrie’s writing :) Now be like me and rush out to get a copy!
I wish I did. Life would be more fun. But in reality, a ghost could hit me upside the head with a copy of War and Peace and I’d still find a way to explain it. Thanks to my left-brain skepticism and years of science education, a believer in the unseen I am not.
BUT…
That doesn’t mean I don’t find it fascinating, and it doesn’t mean I don’t want to write about it.
The Bone Curse, available today, takes a rational-minded man of science and tosses him into an otherworldly situation, one with curses, dark priests, and Haitian Vodou.
After getting cut by an old bone in the Paris catacombs, a skeptical med student must use the occult to stop a deadly curse and a vengeful priest.
The Hero:
Ben, the main character, is not a perfect guy. He’s a med student…
Not to toot my own horn, but here I am tooting! I am honored to be included in this new online literary journal, The Disappointed Housewife. Many thanks to Kevin Brennan for kick-starting my own literary career by publishing my different kind of fairy tale. I hope you enjoy it!
Once upon a time, a child was born with long, silky blond hair. In fact, she came out of the womb, not head first, but hair first. The doctors and nurses and her parents were both fascinated and repulsed by the sight of the bloody blond hair that lay pooled on the hospital bed. A nurse came toward the infant with scissors but the mother stopped her. “No,” she said. “Let the hair stay. I will wash it myself.” She looked up at her husband whose face was a pale shade of gray. “We will call her Rapunzel,” she said and her husband dutifully nodded.
They had all expected Rapunzel’s hair to fall out and then regrow slowly, normally. But the hair stayed and it continued to grow until, by the time Rapunzel was walking, her hair followed behind her like a princess’s wedding train. And by then the whole…
I’ve been dipping into my indie catalog lately, featuring an excerpt from the books I’ve published since 2013. This week it’s Town Father‘s turn. This might well be the only historical fiction I ever write, unless you consider a novel set in the early 1970s to be historical fiction. Maybe so. But I had never […]
Although it’s not officially summer, it should feels like it where I live. And that means reading! So stock up and take advantage of the sale of all of Kevin Brennan’s novels at Amazon! I’ve read each one of these (and even more) and can truly attest to the abundance of humor, imagination, and humanity in Kevin’s novels. Take advantage of this sale and make it a “Kevin Brennan Summer” :)
It’s official. My Amazon book sales chart has flatlined.
Oh, it happens every now and then, especially when I haven’t run a promotion in a while (mostly because I haven’t been allowed to run a promotion …), but it’s always psychologically alarming when it does happen. We like to think our babies are out there doing good things in the world, instead of sitting alone in a little dark box, bound and gagged.
In any event, I’ve decided to lower the price of all my novels to $2.99 for a spell, and you can grab any of them right now at my Amazon author page.
To whet your appetite, here are a few review excerpts:
Yesterday Road: “It isn’t often that the sheer beauty of a novel stuns me to such a degree that I’m unable to put into words just how lovely and richly satisfying it…
Marie at 1 Write Way 