Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Your Biggest Fan by Sharon Donovan

Pages 278) Sensual

ISBN: 1-60154-813-3

Author, Sharon Donovan,has a winner

Her latest book `Her Biggest Fan' from The Wild Rose Press has just released. I'd like introduce you to this fantastic romantic thriller. It is a truly thrilling read, with `edge of the seat' moments, and the thread of a tender romance running all the way through. Reviews have been great! Check out the book for more information by following the link below. It's awesome!


Here's the blurb and a short excerpt:


From the shadows of the woods, he keeps vigil. The stage is set to drive the pretty little princess insane. He's coming for her. And when he catches her, he'll pounce on her like the big bad wolf.

After receiving a disturbing fan letter, New York Times best-selling author Tess Kincaid flees to the New England home she's inherited following her father's death. The manor has been tainted, every room staged to resemble the way it was in its glory days. However when Tess calls the police, the chilling props vanish into thin air.

Ruggedly handsome Sheriff Mike Andretti is called to investigate the reported burning candles, dancing gargoyles and otherworldly events. When he discovers no trace of the eerie setting, he finds himself caught between duty and desire. Is the woman with the bewitching green eyes delusional or is this a trap of twisted wit set by a demented fan?


Cool air drifted out of the ballroom, carrying the scent of burning candles and cigarettes.

Music floated through the corridor, the seductive undertone hauntingly familiar.

The music was hypnotic, mesmerizing. Tess could barely think over the loud beat of her heart. Every sense screamed to beware. She was about to come face-to-face with her stalker, her biggest fan. But over the hammering of her heart and accelerated senses, her will to put an end to this deadly game prevailed. She had to face him, find out who was behind this bizarre masquerade. Anticipation mounting, she made the turn at the end of the corridor and came to a riveting halt.

A female wax gargoyle stood in the doorway, long blonde hair billowing in the breeze. Her glass eyes shimmered with madness, an eerie smile on her face. In one hand, she held a mission bell, the other reaching out for a candle.

Music played from the old phonograph, the plucking of guitar strings laced with seduction. A breeze blew in through open terrace doors, stirring the sweet scent of jasmine from the candelabras.

Two wax nymphs stood at the bar, glass eyes shining bright in the candlelight, pliable fingers wrapped around flutes of pink champagne. Lit cigarettes burned in ashtrays. From behind the bar, a winged monster served drinks.

In the center of the ballroom, two gargoyles held a pose as if they were dancing, their waxy bodies closely pressed together, their reflections glowing in the mirrored ceiling. From the old phonograph in the corner, the hypnotic music played.

Tess gasped, her hand clasping her mouth. "Oh, my God!"

Mike raised his gun, circled the room. "Come out with your hands up. Hancock County Sheriff. Put your hands where I can see them."

Friday, September 24, 2010

Making the Turn by Celia Yeary

Second new Release: MAKING THE TURN- a contemporary women’s fiction novel
Cover Attached

Starting over at age thirty-nine is no picnic under any circumstances, but the task is daunting for Sara Daniels. Living an affluent lifestyle her entire adulthood in Dallas does not prepare her for instant bankruptcy, especially if a philandering husband dies suddenly, leaving her penniless, debt-ridden, and homeless.
Planning on moving in temporarily with her cantankerous mother in the small town of Del Rey, Sara faces more problems than she can handle. During the long, hot summer, she and her daughter, her mother, and a handsome distraught widower and his charming young son learn they can have second chances.


Sunday morning, Sara sat at the kitchen table with one leg bent up and the heel of one bare foot propped on the edge of her chair. She spread the paper before her, but she couldn’t read anything yet because of the commotion down the hall. Instead, she sipped on coffee and laughed to herself. Dorothy stomped around, all in a tizzy, to use her own words, trying to dress for church and share the one bathroom with Laney.
Dorothy rose early, as usual, and made pancakes and bacon, knowing full well Laney wouldn’t eat the meat, but she pushed her anyway to “just try some. It won’t kill you.” Laney quickly ate her pancakes and raced for the bathroom to shower and wash her hair. When Dorothy needed the bathroom to do the same, Laney was still in there using the blow dryer. Dorothy called out to her to hurry up, but either Laney ignored her or didn’t hear because of the noise of the dryer.
“Okay, Gran, it’s all yours,” Laney said. She scooted past Dorothy as fast as she could to go to her own room. Sara watched from her position at the kitchen table, and thought Laney looked a tiny bit fearful.
Before Dorothy closed the door to the bathroom, she stuck her head out and called, “Now, I’m running behind. Laney, tell your mama to wash the dishes. I’m not going to have time today.”
Sara called from the kitchen, “I’ve already washed them! Just take care of yourself!”
“Well, whatever,” Dorothy answered instead of saying thank you.
Twenty minutes later, Laney emerged from her bedroom wearing a pale pink, sleeveless summer dress, with a scoop neck and diagonal ruffles across the lower part of the ankle-length skirt. Her cherry red toenails glared because she wore sandals, and a tiny gold ring circled the second toe of her left foot. Three silver bangle bracelets graced the upper part of one tanned, firm arm, and three silver rings graced the middle three fingers of the other hand.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” commented Sara. “I like your hair hanging loose like that. It’s become lighter, hasn’t it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. You’re not dressed yet.” Sara still had on blue drawstring lounging pants and a matching crop-top. “Do you realize I rarely ever saw you like this? You were always up early and dressed for the day.”
“Well, honey, this is the new me. Have a seat. I think Mother’s still fussing with her hair. Anyway, I have no place to go today.”
“I like your outfit. Looks really comfortable.”
“It is and thanks,” she answered with a smile. “So, are you sure you’re ready to face the First Presbyterian Church congregation?”
Laney laughed. “I can’t even imagine. But I’m game.”
“I grew up in that church, you know.”
“I remember, and I’m interested in the…”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Dorothy asked, as she hurried into the kitchen. She laid her pocketbook and Bible on the table to pat her hair on the sides and back, and while doing so, looked at Laney’s dress, the rings, and the bracelets. “My Lord, people will stare at you. Tell me you’re not going like that. You don’t even have on panty hose.”
Laney threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Gran, you’re a firecracker.” She stood and hugged Dorothy around the shoulders. Whispering, she said, “Do you think you should be taking the Lord’s name in vain on a Sunday morning? Tut, tut, Gran, people will talk.”
“Well. Well,” she sputtered. “We’d better get going.” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes is all we have.” She continued to talk as she gathered her things and walked to the back door. “If you hadn’t taken so much time in the bathroom, we wouldn’t be running late. Now, I bet somebody’s got my pew, and I’ll have to sit in the back. I hope those flowers haven’t wilted in this heat. With any luck…” and her voice faded away as she slammed out the back door.
Laney winked at Sara and hurried to catch up to her grandmother. Before she left the room, she turned and said, “I’m going to make her ride in the Pathfinder. She’ll have a fit.”
Sara laughed and replied, “Make that a hissy-fit.”


Thank you for visiting today—
Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
New Releases
Texas Promise-eBook-Desert Breeze Publishing
Making the Turn-print & eBook-Wings ePress

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

How I Tackle Writing

How I Tackle Writing
by Celia Yeary

Did you know you can find numerous articles on the internet about how to write a novel? Most of them begin with “think of a good story.” Now that, in my opinion, is the most fascinating bit of advice I’ve ever read. “Think of a good story.” I wonder if Margaret Mitchell said that to herself as she sat down at her typewriter. She certainly had a good story; I’ll admit that.

How did Margaret Mitchell find the novel titled Gone With the Wind? I have no idea, but I don’t imagine she sat down one day at her desk and thought, “I need to think of a good story,” and voila! her Best-Selling Novel was born.

First, for me to think up a good story I need time to DAYDREAM. That’s step number one —time to stare into space and let my mind wander, imagining a scene or a character. This might occur while I’m watching mind-numbing television, or while we’re on a long road trip and I have time to stare at the highway in front of me, or best of all, the house is quiet and I’m all alone.

Second, I need A PROMPT of some kind. This might be an old weathered gray house on the side of the road, and I wonder who lived there and why. Maybe I see unique person walking along the sidewalk, and I wonder who she is and where is she going. Perhaps I read a news article, and something in it turns into a scene with people acting out the story in the article.

Third, I need to ENVISION a character, male or female, doesn’t matter. Who is this character? What is her story? I needed to write a 25,000 word Christmas story, and I thought of a couple who recently married. She is a nurse, very tall, and she married a doctor who is even taller. So, my story is based on a young woman who is to be maid of honor to her brother’s best man. She worries, but when she meets him, he stands even taller than she. And of course, he’s a hunk. In my story, my heroine is a pediatric nurse and my hero is an ex-Army medic.

In a nutshell, that is how I begin writing a story. Let me give you an example. Occasionally, we travel north about 200 miles to visit my mother in the nursing home. On the way, we pass a road sign that points west and says, Thurber 15 miles. I’ve never heard of this town. So when I returned home, I immediately Googled the name. I learned it is a ghost place with only one tall smokestack and numerous cemeteries remaining. Once, though, it had been a thriving town of 3,000 that produced coal. Ah, so Erath County had coalmines. When?

From a little research, I learned all about the town and even found a website with old photos. The citizens abandoned it around 1915, and the owners of the coal mine leveled it. Why? I found a rich history there in that area, which resulted in my imagining a young man who walked away, wandering until he came upon a farm where a young girl lived with her family. From there, the entire story fell into place.
I titled my story Wish for the Moon and is now contracted with Willow Moon Publishing. The story turned out to be a “coming-of-age” novel, which created a problem with getting someone to publish it. I refused to make it into a pure romance, and that dilemma happened more than once. I stubbornly held on to it. While it is an adult love story, romance is not the focus. In a stroke of very good luck, I ran across WMP.

Thank you for reading today. I do appreciate Nancy for inviting me to guest on her blog.

Bio: Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
New Releases
Texas Promise-eBook-Desert Breeze Publishing
Making the Turn-print & eBook-Wings ePress

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Who is Celia Yeary?

Glad you asked. First of all I can truly say she is a friend in pen, meaning she has given me great advice, some great ideas as we talk, laugh, and sometimes cry together on loops. But Celia is more than that, she is a wife, a mother, a beloved grandmother, and writer. As an author, her turn of phrase opens the reader up to a Texas whirlwind of emotions.

Here are some of her other titles.

From the Wild Rose Press
Texas Blue
All My Hopes and Dreams
Showdown in Southfork

The Winged Press
a woman's fiction novel Making the Turn

Her newest from Desert Breeze Publishing
The Cameron Sisters Series Book One
Texas Promise
Book two due out in April 2011
Texas True

check her out : http://celiayeary.com/home

Monday, September 20, 2010

Come see what Dessert Breeze and Celia Yeary have coming your way!

My good friend Celia Yeary has released a fantastic new historical, set in my favorite place - Texas. Come explore romance in the Lone Star State.

New Release:
TEXAS PROMISE: Book I-The Cameron Sisters
A Western Historical Romance

After two years, Jo Cameron King’s life as a widow abruptly ends when her husband returns home to Austin. Unable to understand his anger and bitterness, she accepts a call to travel to the New Mexico Territory to meet her dying birth father whom she knows nothing about. Her plan to escape her husband goes awry when he demands to travel with her.

Dalton King, believing lies his Texas Ranger partner tells him about Jo, seethes with hatred toward his wife. Now he must protect Jo from his partner’s twisted mind, while sorting out the truth. Jo’s bravery and loyalty convince him she’s innocent. But can they regain the love and respect they once shared?

Digging the key from her reticule, she turned to the door. Startled, she noticed the door slightly cracked open, in addition to the light in the front room. Goodness, Mrs. Thompson really was becoming forgetful. I'd better turn that lamp off, she thought, as she entered the study.

"Might as well leave it on," murmured a deep voice.

Shock slammed through her body and she felt as though she'd faint. She grabbed the doorframe, frozen, and stared at Dalton, her transformed husband, who sat in her Victorian chair on the embroidered damask seat with his dirty, scuffed boots crossed on her desk, sipping whiskey.

"Dear God. Dalton." She stepped toward him.

Holding his hand up to stop her, he growled, "You can stop right there. I don't want you to touch me, and I sure as hell don't want to touch you. Not yet, anyway." The last he said in an odious tone she'd never before heard from him. "Sit down over there." He nodded to a small love seat nearby.

She sat. Mostly because she trembled so much she could hardly breathe, let alone stand up. Leaning forward, she asked, "Where have you been, Dalton? What's happened to you?"

He sipped the whiskey, looked at the ceiling, and back at her. "Ah, you've already noticed. That something happened to me. Didn't take you long. Repulsed, are you?" His voice was cold and hard.

She stood, leaning toward him, holding her hand out, palm up. "What are you talking about? What is this? A joke? Where in heaven's name have you been? We thought you were dead. Dead, Dalton. We had a memorial service for you out at the ranch, for heaven's sake. I applied for widow's benefits. I don't understand."

Suddenly, she felt lightheaded and sank to the love seat. Her body couldn't handle this. A long day with no dinner, and now, his sudden appearance knocked her off her feet. Crossing her arms around her waist, she leaned forward, then back, resting her head on the cushion. Her eyes rolled back.

Even though her body went limp and her mind clouded, she knew he caught her up in his arms. He sat on the love seat with her across his lap, holding her tightly against his hard body.

He trembled with her in his arms.


Thank you for visiting!

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
New Releases
Texas Promise-eBook-Desert Breeze Publishing
Making the Turn-print & eBook-Wings ePress

Friday, September 17, 2010

Building your story

It is perhaps easier to write contemporary stories for your world about your characters is already set. We know the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. What we don't know is what happens in a given day or time of our story. But when you discuss fantasy, you must take into account that idea of world building. You must describe, create, or at least attempt to bring the reader into that world which rest in your mind's eye.

Are you on the surface of a faraway planet? Does the soil shimmer and glow because of some odd element? Does it have two suns? A single moon with a ring? What is its name? Are there creatures like us or do they have features that need descriptions? This is what movie makers use a story board for. It can be an effective tool for writers as well. Picture your creature or hero/ heroine. Find pictures put them up on bulletin boards, make a scrapbook of your plot.

Yes, it sound tedious. But a well thought out plot often will save a writer from the dreaded writer's block. So get thee to thy story board and see if you can write that next best seller.

People to read:
If you are looking for examples of people to read to get the idea of a well developed plot please check out these authors.

Karen Hawkins
Kaye Manro
Cheryl St. John
Aliyah Burke
Monique Lamont
Amy Clipston
Delilah Marvell
Galeen Foley

Examine your favorite authors. Critique their work and build your story

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

What's in a name?

You've heard your parents say live up to your name. How true it is.

As I sit here and wait for Hurricane Earl's visit, it has come to my attention that how you name things often reflects the outcome. Yes,I'm taking names.

Writing my stories, I pick a name for my hero, heroine, or villain dependent on the characteristics I want them to portray. I wouldn't have an nonredeemable villain with a hero's name or visa versa. Example you say? Ok, Few bad guys are named Robert. Now, I'm not talking Bobby, but the strength of the name Robert brings to my mind someone strong. Bobby might be easily swayed like a child. A villain's name might be Rafe, Leon, or Jack. Yes, to many this is conjecture and I certainly don't mean to say anyone with that name is a villain. Perhaps its just that they aren't my favorite names. So how does this bring us back to the Hurricane named EARL.

Living in southeast Virginia, I've experienced hurricanes for nearly 54 years. In doing so, I've noticed that the storms with the "odd man out" names are usually the worst. Perhaps, we tick them off with their moniker. In the sixties, we had horrid storms like Betsy, Donna, Ion, and the drama queen herself, Camille. When the weather service included male names instead of just girls ( which was started when one bright guy named a hurricane after his girl friend. Yeah you wonder if they got married. ) We include in this list Hugo, Andrew, Felix.

So in conclusion, if they'd name storms Bambi or Candy perhaps it would have been charming or gentleman. Ah, but then, my theory would be blown and what fun is that. So here's to my friends on the East coast, I raise a cup of tea to you and wish you safe harbor in the coming days. I hope to have more after the passage of Earl.
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