Well, I successfully completed the first week of the A to Z Challenge Blog for 2024. A to F is in the can, and we move on to G to L this week. The farther into the alphabet we get, the harder it is to find word prompts to fit the letters.
This coming week, I’ve chosen my word prompts. Glasses, Humdinger, Imagination, Journaling, Kindred spirits, and Love. I’ve got something in mind for each of those words and hope you’ll drop over to see what I have to say. have a great Sunday.
Today is Saturday, but it’s not any Saturday. It’s the day my middle son comes home for a very short visit, the day I will have all three of my children home at the same time.
Today’s letter is the letter F, which stands for family. Every person goes through stages in life when family means different things. As a child, for me, family meant Mom, Dad, my sister, and my maternal grandparents, the paternal ones having died during the first year of my existence.
The first three people on that list remained part of my family until 2019 when my father died and in February of this year when I lost my mother. My sister is now the only natural family I have from that group, although there are still a few cousins around that I rarely see.
As an adult, my family expanded when I married and acquired in-laws, a second mother and father, another sister, and a brother. Eventually, there were more in-laws and nieces and nephews. Today, my family consists of a husband, two sons, a daughter, a daughter-in-law, and five grandchildren, one of whom lives overseas.
I was lucky enough to be able to stay home with my children when they were younger and I didn’t go to work until they were all in school. As a teacher, I had almost all of the same days off as they did which made it easier, but I didn’t write then. I started that long after everyone had left home, and I retired from my teaching position. I tip my hat to those brilliant people out there who can juggle family, work, and writing.
Being a parent and a grandparent has helped me include children in my stories, but more than that. It’s given me the impetus I need to be the best person I can be. It’s also given me great joy. Having my family together this week will be one of those moments. The world is a smaller place despite the geographical distances that still exist, and while Face-Time and Messenger bring people together, there’s nothing like in-person hugs I intend to get my fill. Enjoy your weekend.
Welcome to Day 5 of this year’s challenge. As a writer, I like nothing better than hearing someone tell me they started reading one of my books and couldn’t put it down. When I hear or read that, I know I’ve done what I set out to do.
I’ve enticed the reader into my story. They’ve engaged with the plot. The letter E is all about Enticing and Engaging.
In my humble and completely inconsequential opinion, the best books are the ones that grab you right from the start. Generally, from the first few pages, you’ll meet the heroine, get a sense of the reason behind the story, recognize at least the initial incident in the plot, and have an idea about the genre.
I spend a great deal of time crafting this enticing beginning, regardless of the particular genre I’m writing at that moment. As you learned from the letter B, my latest book is Listen to the Stones, a contemporary, paranormal, romance, suspense.
The book is part of a series called Timeless Love. It has a cover and I hope to finish it this month. Here’s a taste of the scene I hope will entice readers to want to finish the book.
Harrisville, Ontario
December 31
11:40 p.m. EST
Marina stared up at the darkened ceiling in her room. Another year had come to an end without improving her lot in life. She was almost thirty, alone, struggling to make ends meet, and there didn’t seem to be any likelihood that the year starting in twenty minutes would be any better. Maybe she should’ve gone to Lenore and Jay’s party, had a few drinks, and rung in the new year in style, but she wasn’t a people person as Lenore put it, and socializing with others exhausted her.
And, make no mistake, she was exhausted. Not only was her body tired and achy, but her soul was drained, depleted of the life-giving energy only he could provide, and he hadn’t come to her in weeks. Why?
Because she couldn’t sleep.
Recently, her sleep patterns had been more erratic than ever, alternating between long periods of wakefulness during the night, couple with nightmares involving water, and the briefest glimpses to the comforting green hills with the stones in the distance—but no lover. If she didn’t know better, she would swear someone, or something, was hellbent on keeping them apart.
The harder she tried to fall asleep and call him to her, the worse the insomnia was. In desperation, she’d scoured the Internet for advice on improving the quality of her sleep beyond a new mattress, new sheets, a new pillow, and counting sheep, which hadn’t helped in the least. She’d taken a hot shower, had drunk a cup of warm milk, had turned off her television and electronics half an hour before she got into bed, had listened to soothing music, had focused on meditation, and finally had resorted to reading the dryest, most boring book she could find, but nothing worked. She’d been flipping around like a fish on dry land for the last two hours. If she didn’t get to sleep soon, tomorrow would be a disaster. How could she cater lunch for fifty people without some rest?
A tear trickled from her eye, ran down the side of her face, and landed on the pillow.
“Come to me, lover,” she whispered. “Please, I need you more than I ever have.”
The nightlight combined with the open curtains cast pale, shadow-filled light in the bedroom, and while that could occasionally send her mind soaring into the land of monsters, it was 100 percent better than the alternative of deeper darkness and the sensation of being buried alive.
She needed to go to sleep. If she didn’t, there was no way he could come to her tonight. Hell, she’d take on the fiends of the deep if she had to before being in his arms once more. But while the nightmares had grown more and more frequent, parts of them lingering in her mind long after she awakened, he came less and less often, and yet she had never felt more lost, alone, and lonely in her life. What was the point of having a phantom lover if you couldn’t conjure him when you needed him?
Light sleep calmed her restless mind. She rolled over, settling onto her right side, facing the spot where her imaginary lover should be, and yanking off the covers as his heat reached her. He’d come to her. She sensed him with every fiber of her being. If only he could be with her in real-time. The depth of love she felt for this man was far beyond what she’d felt for Bob. She’d tried—God alone knew how hard she had—but the kind of love Bob had wanted, the kind she’d needed to save her marriage, simply hadn’t been in her to give, and wishing for it hadn’t made it so. Everything in her belonged to … strange to love someone so deeply and not know his name. As the dream expanded, she opened herself to him.
The bed beneath her vanished, replaced by a woven blanket atop soft grass in a leafy grotto. He’d led her here from the stones, yet this area, located in another time and place, was as familiar to her as if she’d been here countless times in the past. Common sense told her this bower existed only inside her imagination, but that didn’t matter. It felt real, just as he did. This was as genuine as she needed it to be. The fresh scent of pine and cedar and the aroma of flowers she couldn’t identify invigorated her. The place was always shrouded, with only trickles of light permeating it, but she was never afraid here, never cold, and never alone.
She ran her hand along his muscled arm, across his tight shoulders, and down his taut stomach, trapping his legs so much longer than hers, trying to keep him with her longer, knowing he could disappear at any moment.
“I’ve missed you.”
The words didn’t come from her mouth—they never did—instead, they formed in her mind, in a language she couldn’t speak but understood, a language far older than twenty-first-century English.
She reached up and caressed his face, still shrouded from her by the darkness, as her fingers caught in the hairs of his beard. While she couldn’t see it, she sensed it was red, like his hair would be. His beard was soft and neatly groomed. Although men with beards had never attracted her, this one did. She would give anything to be able to see his eyes. The eyes were the mirror of the soul. In them, she would see the truth of his feelings for her—not that she doubted the sincerity of his love, but if he cared as deeply as he claimed to, why did he stay away from her?
“As I’ve missed you, my love,” he answered telepathically in the same strange language. “I’ve tried to find you, but … I’m here now. Let’s not waste a minute of this precious time we have together. I need you, sweetness. I’ll never get enough of you.”
She smiled. “Agreed.”
Rolling onto her back, she anticipated his touch as he took her to a magical realm of sensations that only his hands and lips could generate. His smooth hands traveled along her bare skin filling her with unparalleled desire. His lips met hers, his tongue plunging inside her mouth, battling for supremacy with hers, a battle she happily ceded.
His lips left her mouth and traveled to that delicate spot under her ear, and her entire body tensed becoming an instrument that only he could play. His hands moved along her torso, setting fires of need wherever they kneaded, caressed, and kissed. Desire built inside her, an ache only he could assuage. He moved over her, spreading her legs, and plunging into her core. Her body exploded in a thousand points of light, filling her with the energy she’d been lacking. Body shuddering in the aftermath of her climax, she reached up to put her arms around him, but he was gone.
In her mind, she heard him.
“I’m searching for you, my love, and I will find you. No one and nothing can keep us apart this time. We are destined to be together. Never doubt my love.”
A darkness settled inside the bower, so complete that it seemed to consume the light and the air. A voice she recognized filled the emptiness.
That was the voice of the psychic Lenore had taken her to see last week, the woman repeating the words she’d said then.
Suddenly awake, Marina glanced around the empty room before settling on the spot beside her in the bed. Her body was replete, sated, and filled with the serenity only he could bring her. She could still smell the pine and the flowers. Her gaze fastened on the alarm clock. Midnight. The witching hour. It had only been a dream. If only he could be real and not a fantasy. The psychic’s words resonated inside her once more, “Marina Fraser, soon, it will be time to choose. Choose wisely.”
Choose what?
Turning onto her left side, Marina fell into a light sleep.
So, what do you think? Would you want to read more of this story? If not, why not?
Welcome back! How have the first four days of this year’s challenge treated you? So far, I’m staying above water and holding my own. Today’s blog is for the letter D
The letter D today stands for Decision. Every day, we make countless decisions, many of them without thought. We add sweetener and cream to our coffee without thinking about it, most of the time without even measuring. We decide what to do in the morning based on our immediate needs. We decide whether to shower or bathe depending on the time we have. We decide what to wear based on the climate and temperature. You get the idea.
As an author, I face countless decisions related to my writing every day. Let’s look at yesterday morning as an example. I got up at 7:08 a.m. DST. After attending to vital matters, I settled at my desk and opened my computer. I checked my e-mail, deleted the advertising posts, and opened and read the others, many of which were from people participating in the challenge, so thanks for the follow. I answered a few e-mails and then checked my Kindle site to see how things were going. Off to a slow start this month, but it’s been that way for some time now.
Then, I examined my calendar to see what I had on it for the day. Other than laundry, nothing much. We were expecting rain followed by snow, unfortunately continuing into Friday.
After grabbing my first coffee, I settled at the computer again to work on my manuscript, but before I did that, I needed to do my blog for the letter C. Blog done, a few more of them read, and I was ready to get to work.
I don’t work with an outline, but I have an ending in mind when I start a story–I’m just not sure how I’m getting there. My writing is linear. Although I use flashbacks in the stories, I don’t write scenes out of sequence. I tried that once, and it didn’t work.
So what did I decide to do yesterday? I’m at the point in the story where all of the principal characters have been introduced. I’ve planted all the clues, and it’s time to get to the nitty-gritty. The book is a contemporary, paranormal, romance, suspense novel. The contemporary and paranormal are well established, the romance elements are in place, so it’s time to put my heroine, and maybe the hero into danger. What might scream in the night and terrify? The island has no wolves, foxes, big cats, or bears. It does have eagles and the occasional owl. It seemed I had more research to do before I got to write.
By mid-afternoon, the decision was made. Something supernatural would do the trick. Decisions, decisions, decisions. You’ll have to wait for the book to be finished before you’ll know what I decided.
See you tomorrow for the letter E and a peek at the beginning of Listen to the Stones.
This is the second post today. Check the previous post at the bottom of the page for today’s A to Z Challenge post.
Thanks to the A to Z Challenge Blog, this is a busy month, but I will answer this month’s question.
April 3 question – How long have you been blogging? (Or on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram?) What do you like about it and how has it changed?
I have been blogging since 2013 when I published my first book and learned the importance of having an online presence. What I like about it, especially the month I blog as part of the A to Z Challenge and when I do these posts is hearing and reading posts from others. It helps me grow my followers and maybe adds a reader or two to my audience.
How has it changed? Blogging may have changed, but for me, it hasn’t. I do the same things that I’ve always done. It’s a lot like journaling. I use it as a place to sell my books, a platform to vent about issues that affect me deeply, and as a means to connect with others.
I have upgraded my site and now pay for it since I lost everything there a few years ago by inadvertently logging out and not remembering my password. I learned that, by not having purchased anything, the platform couldn’t find my old site either. Now, I’ve ensured that can’t happen again.
How many times I blog every month depends on several factors. I post a piece every Tuesday as part of a small group that shares scenes from our works in progress, each post of 400 words based on a word prompt. I blog monthly with the IWSG, usually answering the questions they provide, special events like the holidays, new book releases, vacations, and events in my life, good and sad that touch me deeply. Once a year, I post a blog a day during April, based on the letters of the alphabet and a topic I chose in March. This year, I’ll be blogging about the day-to-day struggles and joys of being an author.
Welcome to Day 3 of the A to Z Challenge for this year. One of my biggest challenges as an author is promoting myself. I’ve never been one to blow my own horn. I’ve always preferred to stay in the background until I have a few drinks and can come out of my shell … at least for a short while. Most people don’t realize it, but the majority of teachers are introverts. We’re not comfortable in crowds and large groups, but when we’re at the front of a classroom, we don’t have to be ourselves. We can be anyone we want to be, including a confident person imparting knowledge and wisdom to others. I get that same feeling when I write.
Today’s post is for the letter C, and it stands for Challenge, Confidence, and Cocktails for You.
Most of the books I write are written in the third person with two viewpoints, occasionally three. My entire Cocktails for You series is my attempt to step out of that box and challenge myself to write in the first person, single point of view. This is a lot harder than most people realize since no one in the story, including the reader, can be aware of anything that the main character doesn’t know.
The first, second, and third books in the series, Tequila Sunrise, Champagne Cocktail, and Buck’s Fizz were short ones, but as I got comfortable with the genre, Romantic Comedy, and the first person POV, the stories got longer. The Tipsy Pig, Make Mine a Manhattan, Emerald Glow, Sea Breeze, It’s a Match, and the latest, Noelle’s Gambit are all full-length novels. The titles are taken from the names of popular cocktails, and in each book, I’ve included a reference to the drink and how it’s made.
Writing Romantic Comedy, which some label chick-lit, was a stretch for me for two reasons. The first, I don’t think of myself as particularly funny, and the second because that genre seems to require more sex scenes than romance suspense, historical, or paranormal books I usually write, although my Timeless Love series has several sex scenes.
In most of my books, I focus more on the action in the plot than on the sex or the romantic relationship. I’m not a prude, but I think people spend way too much time worrying about the sex lives of others when there are far more serious issues facing us these days. As well, in my daughter’s words, “Mom, it’s just weird reading sex scenes that your mother has written.” I can actually see that.
When I decided to try the first-person genre and Rom-Com, I did so at the urging of a friend and colleague who claims I can be hilarious. Tequila Sunrise did well, and I followed it up with the other books, confident that they would sell well. Sadly, they haven’t. Why? Because I suck at marketing. I’ve changed the covers, I’ve created Amazon ads, but I just don’t seem to be able to find the reading audience I need. So, now I’m trying a promotion with a reduced price. Will it work? I certainly hope so. At any rate, from now until April 9, the box set for Cocktails for You, the first five books in the series, is only 99 cents USD. Maybe I’ll pick up a few readers, and maybe I won’t, but what do I have to lose?
Here’s the blurb. If you decide to take advantage of the promotion, let me know. I would love your feedback.
A delicious smorgasbord of romantic comedies designed to make you laugh and brighten your day.Meet Kelly, Ronnie, Jewel, Sydney, and Robin, five women at a crossroads in life, each one searching to redefine themselves as only they can. Follow them as they blunder their way to falling in love and finding their own happily ever after.
Tequila SunriseShe left him in stitches before pulling a Cinderella and disappearing. Ten years later, she wants a second chance.
Champagne CocktailShe wrote a nasty letter to Santa, not expecting he would send a life-sized elf to her door with an offer she can’t refuse.
Buck’s FizzShe’s determined to control her own destiny and not be a bargaining chip in her father’s business empire.
The Tipsy PigA socialite, a lone wolf, a snowstorm, and a pig with a taste for dandelion wine—the perfect recipe for disaster or romance?
Make Mine a ManhattanWhat’s an author to do when she’s hopelessly stuck in her latest novel and the deadline is eight weeks away?
Welcome to today’s blog post for the letter B. I’m not creating anything new today. Instead, I’m reposting a blog written last week because it beautifully covers a topic of great importance to me.
B is for Blending Truth and Reality with Fiction.
When fiction authors set out to craft their books, they have many decisions to make. Character names and occupations must be considered. The era or period of the story has to be examined for relevance. Next, the genre of the tale, be it historical, romance, suspense, paranormal, or any combination has to be determined, and finally the the location must be chosen. Those aren’t the only options the author has to consider. There’s the audience, the level of heat, whether or not it’s part of a series, and many other factors most readers don’t realize are part of the earliest conception of a book. But, in my opinion, while each one of those issues is important, research is the most critical aspect of those first few pages. Unless you set a book on an undiscovered planet in a distant universe, sooner or later, you will have to deal with truth and reality.
In my latest novel, Listen to the Stones, to be released later this spring, I used the location as my primary focus. I visited the Standing Stones of Calanais on the Isle of Lewis and Harris in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland. The stones fascinated me. Looking at them and listening to the guide, my imagination soared. The marbling in the stones, the designs that looked like pictograms, and the positioning of the stones as if some were guarding a pathway while others seemed to be discussing things had all kinds of ideas floating through my head.
When we went to the souvenir shop, I purchased a book on the stones and their excavation. Within its pages were theories on the stones’ provenance. The fact that they predated Stonehenge and that there were many such circles in the Hebrides and the Orkneys, as well as in the UK fascinated me as much as it must have Diana Gabaldon who used a similar stone circle for Outlander books. Several Outlander books and items of television memorabilia were available in that souvenir shop. Whereas she saw the stone circles as a portal to the past, a doorway for time travel, I see them as a magical place. One of the theories about the stones was that they were the people living on the island who were turned to stone when they refused to accept Christianity … a little like Lot’s wife being turned into a pillar of salt for looking back. That’s the idea I chose to explore. Then came the research to give credibility to my vision.
I spent countless hours examining every article I could find on the Standing Stones and everything relating to them. That’s where I came across information on magic, witchcraft, and Druidism, which led me to the dark side of Scottish history and Edinburgh. I discovered many things about the city. This is one of the sites I found particularly interesting. While I knew that witch persecutions had been plentiful, I had no idea that a city existed beneath the city that boasted Edinburgh Castle and the Royal Mile. Unfortunately, the tour we had booked in Edinburgh as part of our cruise was canceled due to bad weather, but if I ever get the chance to return, you can bet I’ll be checking this out. https://www.visitscotland.com/info/tours/underground-city-of-the-dead-8b8d6efc
It was challenging to decide how to incorporate all of these fascinating facts into the story to make it part of a cohesive whole. Choosing to make my main character the pure soul hidden for eons to protect her from a greedy, power-hungry wizard who was nothing more than a spoiled child who became an entitled adult, I let her take a trip on her way home and visit some of the places I’d seen as well as find a few I hadn’t.
Since my novel is a contemporary paranormal, I needed to create the myths involved. I combined many Irish, Scottish, and English folktales, myths, and legends I’d read to create a race of elemental giants, who could control the elements of air, fire, water, and earth. Once again, my research provided the basis for my myth. The mysterious skeleton found in Glastonbury, which some people believe to be the legendary King Arthur, gave me that little bit of reality I needed for my imaginary race. After all, every fantasy has to start somewhere. https://www.visiontimes.com/2021/10/14/mysterious-giant-of-glastonbury-abbey.html
And there you have it. How I blend fiction with truth and reality. If you would like a sample of the way I do this, check out Book 1 of the Timeless Love series, Beneath the Ashes.
Welcome to April and this week’s Tuesday Tales. Our word prompt this week is QUICK. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones, my Contemporary Paranormal Romance Suspense.
“Excuse me for showing up unannounced like this. My condolences on the death of your great-uncle. I’ve been out of the country and just recently heard of Angus’s death.”
The professor’s warm, friendly voice filled with admiration and surprise caressed her, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with cold or fear.
She swallowed the conflicting emotions.. “Thank you. Did you know my great-uncle well?”
“Not as well as I would’ve liked. I’ve stayed here a few times, which brings me to why I’m here. I have a slight problem that I hope you can solve.”
“Of course. If I can help, I’d be happy to. Any friend of my great-uncle’s is a friend of mine.”
Her cheeks heated once more. What was wrong with her? It was one thing to find the man attractive, but quite another to spout outrageous lies to keep him here. How could a friend of Angus’s be a friend of hers? She hadn’t even known the man existed. Besides, minutes ago, she’d fancied herself attracted to James. How fickle could she be?
He smiled, his teeth minus the pointy canines flashing white through full lips similar to James’s. He even had a dimple but on his right cheek rather than his left.
“That’s a great relief. I have a room reserved here until early January. I’ve retired from the university, but archeology is an addiction that’s hard to kick. I’m hoping you’ll let me study the stones on your property. A friend made the reservation for me and … well, it doesn’t take effect until October 21—two days from now. My ferry across the Minch was booked for today, and I couldn’t change that. I’d planned to stay in town, but there are no rooms available. I was hoping to throw myself on your mercy and see if you could put me up early.”
Marina sensed he wasn’t being honest with her, but whatever his reasons were, she would gladly give him his room early. Like James, the man intrigued her. Perhaps he’d broken up with his girlfriend and found himself quite literally stranded on the island. A gorgeous man like that, especially one with such a colorful background, essentially Indiana Jones in person, would have the ladies crawling all over him. She suppressed the quick twinge of jealousy at the idea and nodded.
That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Happy April Fool’s Day! Welcome to the first post in this year’s A to Z Blog Challenge. I hope you’ll join me each day as I work through the alphabet and give you a glimpse of my everyday life, joys, and struggles as an author. Please feel free to follow my blog and comment on my posts.
My first post will be concerning the latest complication for independent writers like myself. A is for Artificial Intelligence. There are several different types of AI available for writers. Most have a free version, but many also offer a paid subscription that’s supposed to be better. Among those most often quoted are Copy Al, supposedly the best one, Rytr, ChatGPT, Word tune, and Write Sonic.
While some authors claim that using AI simply enhances their own writing, I’m not sold on it. At the moment, there are too many unknowns and contradictory points that make it something to be avoided–at least until publishers and the reading public come to a consensus. I find it hard to believe that a computer can replicate the emotions and effort I put into my books. Do they do all the research I do to ensure that the factoids I add to the stories are as accurate as can be? Do they live and breathe the characters the way I do? Can they convey the nuances of a plot as it forms inside my head and transfer it into the story?
I have trouble believing it can when a grammar program can’t even identify context. But, people are using the software to generate books at an incredible speed. In a matter of hours, they produce a book that takes me weeks and sometimes months to create. The more books you have out, the better the odds are that you’ll get recognized, but surely the quality of the book makes a difference, too? My books may take longer to write, but I pour my heart and soul into each one. Unfortunately, while I was in competition with thousands of books written by indie writers, that number has grown exponentially thanks to the AI-assisted authors. Does it matter to the reader if the book is written with AI? Honestly, I don’t know, and that’s also a big part of the problem.
In the end, it means that it’s harder for me to find a reading audience for my works, which results in reduced income and that “Is it worth the effort?” feeling. But, I love to write, and so I’ll continue slogging along and hope that someone will find my books and escape from life if only for a few hours. Of course, leaving a review would be helpful too, but more about that in a later post.
Mother Nature. Got to love her! This has been a very unusual year, and it continues that way. We’ve barely had any winter, although apparently, there’s a nasty storm expected to hit Ontario and Quebec this coming week. Not too surprising since it is only March and early April, and we’ve certainly had snow and cold at that time of year in the past. I’ve always considered Easter to be a spring holiday, with tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils in bloom. You know, the whole time of rebirth thing. It’s true that the birds are back, but there isn’t much green around. I barely have any crocuses. But I digress.
Today, Roman Catholics and most Protestants celebrate Easter. Somehow, Easter in March just doesn’t seem right. It’s 3C or 37F. Kind of chilly for an Easter Parade or even an Easter egg hunt. It isn’t too bad since we don’t have any snow and can do without the boots, but considering I put away the last of the Christmas decorations yesterday because the ground was still frozen makes it weird. I do have a few baby spring flowers coming up, but they are few and far between. So while the lunar calendar may have proclaimed this to be Easter, it doesn’t feel that way, not when I have to wear my winter coat and wool gloves.
According to my calendar, Passover isn’t until April 23 and Orthodox Easter won’t happen until May 5, the week before we celebrate Mother’s Day here in Canada and the US. Just as my Easter is too early, that Easter is too late!
If we can celebrate Christmas on the inaccurate date of December 25 each year, why can’t the powers that be pick a date in the middle for Easter? It would be so much simpler, even if they went with something like the second Sunday in April, and celebrated everything at once. But, that’s not my call, so we’ll make the best of this early Easter this year–but instead of ham or lamb, I’m having turkey. It’s in keeping with the weather!
Happy Easter! Enjoy your day! Don’t forget to visit tomorrow for the first of my A to Z blogs for 2024.
Living the Dream 