Bell Bridge Books

A Long Time Coming

by Eve Gaddy

Some books are a long time coming.

I had the original idea for Cry Love in 1999.  I found the file not too long ago.  It was a one line description that I had saved in my idea file, many computers ago.  But it was a very different idea and at the time I was writing for Harlequin.  There was no way this book would fit what they wanted.  Since I am one of those writers who does best in total immersion, I filed the idea and kept writing other things.

I am also one of those writers who periodically experiences burnout.  I think it has something to do with being so obsessive.  (What, me obsessive?)

Anyway, every once in a while, especially when I was feeling burned out and battered by the business, I would pull the idea out and play with it.  I went to see the movie Hurricane and found it and Denzel Washington, who plays Hurricane Carter, very inspiring.  My husband and I were the only people in the theatre and it seemed as if it was playing just for me.

Several years ago, maybe around 2003 or 2004, I wrote the first scene.  I was at a conference and laid down to rest and the scene came to me.   A year or so later, I worked on the plot during an endless drive back from Savannah to Tyler with my daughter.  Then I put it aside again.

I couldn’t get going on it.  I would write random scenes occasionally but what I had in no way resembled a book.  I went on that way until I quit writing for about two years due to burnout, family death, twin grandbabies<g>, and life in general.  I played with my grandbabies, did a lot of needlework and didn’t write a word of fiction.  I decided if I never wrote anything else that was okay.  I’d published sixteen books and that was enough.

Then I talked to Debra Dixon, President of Belle Books, and a friend I’d known for many years.  The self-publishing boom had hit.  Although I thought I had retired, almost all my friends are writers and I was still a member of many writing communities.  I had the rights back to eight books and was toying with publishing them myself.  But I couldn’t figure out a number of things.  Formatting for one.  At the time I wrote in Word Perfect.  Everything now requires Word, which I loathe and use only when I absolutely must.

So I asked for help on one of my writers loops and Debra Dixon gave me some great advice.  She also mentioned I didn’t have to do this all on my own.  “I don’t?” I asked.  She said Belle Books was interested in reissuing my backlist.  I knew about Belle Books, of course.  I had always wanted to write for them, in fact.  But I hadn’t realized they had branched out from publishing only original southern fiction to more genres as well as reissues.  I was in heaven.  Belle Books bought my backlist in January 2011.  My first reissue, On Thin Ice, came out with Bell Bridge Books in August of 2011.  I love those books and it is such a pleasure to know they have a new life. I not only have a new publisher but I’m lucky enough to have a publisher and editors who are a dream to work with.

In one of our discussions about my backlist, Deb asked me if I had plans to write anything new.  She knew all about what had been going on with me and that I had mentioned retiring, but she let me know Belle Books would be interested in an original from me.  I said, “Well, I do have an idea for a book that’s unlike anything I’ve ever written.

That was what it took.  Not too long after I talked to Deb, I sent a synopsis of my new book to Belle Books. It was very vague and very short since I still had no idea exactly what I was doing, or even what exactly I was writing.  We decided I’d write the whole book and submit it.

Except I couldn’t write.  I had the synopsis but the book was so complex I couldn’t figure out how to write the thing.  I contacted the fabulous April Kihlstrom, published author and writing coach extraordinaire.  With her help I was able to begin seriously working on my book.  April was a lifesaver.  I truly doubt I’d have been able to write again without her help and encouragement.

My friends, many of whom I list in the acknowledgements, were essential to writing my Book of the Heart. I can’t tell you how many talks we had on every subject under the sun. Or how many times I’d call one of them up to try to hammer out a scene. Or email someone with a problem I couldn’t figure out. I’m pretty sure my friends were almost as glad as I was when I finished Cry Love. For that matter, so was my family. I might be just a tiny bit hard to live with when I’m writing.

Finally, nearly a year after I started writing it seriously, I typed THE END on Cry Love.  Thirteen years after the original idea occurred to me, I finished the book.  To call Cry Love a book of my heart doesn’t even approach how I feel about it.  This book was wrenched, sometimes agonizingly, from deep within my heart and soul.  I love this book.  I hope you will too.

TIKI ROAD TRIPS AND FLAMING COCKTAILS

by Jill Marie Landis

According to Wikipedia (and we all know how reliable Wikipedia is!) the tortured artist is both a stock character and a real-life stereotype. Artists who suffer for their work often succumb to self-mutilation, a high rate of suicide, hours of therapy and/or gallons of Ben and Jerry’s.

I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as a tortured artist, but I will go to just about any length in the name of research. When I wrote western historical romances, I rode horses and rounded up cattle. I watered down pigs. I’ve visited so many historical sites and museums that my husband now punches the car accelerator as we approach any building or rock that might be sporting an historical marker.

Since I began writing The Tiki Goddess Mystery Series for Belle Books, I’ve gone overboard doing research. I’ve devoted countless hours to paging through Pintrest, pinning photos with the subject heading “Tiki.”  I’ve shopped eBay for tiki mugs to add to my collection. I’ve spent many a night in the local watering hole here on Kauai writing notes on cocktail napkins and taste testing umbrella drinks. An author’s life is one of sacrifice. Believe me, I’ll go to any length to get things right on the page.

So, in the name of research, I’ve visited Tiki Bars on Kauai and on every other Hawaiian Island. When we’re on the mainland (you know it as the continental US), I refer to my handy dandy “Tiki Road Trip, A Guide to Tiki Culture in North America” by James Teitelbaum. I’ve been in tiki bars in some of the most unlikely, out of the way places in the world and lived to tell about it.

I’ll have to admit my husband and our dinner guests were surprised on evening when I walked into the kitchen armed with a long handled gas lighter and a fire extinquisher. I explained I’d decided to create a recipe to include in TOO HOT FOUR HULA, Book 4, the latest of the Tiki Goddess Mysteries and I needed assistance.

I handed my friend and fellow author, Stella Cameron, a fire extinguisher. As I recall, I said something like, “Stand back Stella, and if I blow myself up, use that thing!”

Stella laughed until I started lining up the ingredients which included chocolate candy kisses and three kinds of liquor, one of which was a bottle of 151 Proof rum, the liquor most mixologists recommended for igniting a flaming cocktail.

That night “The Flaming Manic Monkey” cocktail was born. The drink was inspired by a scene in TOO HOT FOR HULA when Uncle Louie relates a trek to the Amazon in search of the legendary Amethyst Monkey Skull.

Thankfully, Stella didn’t have to use the extinguisher after all because we later noticed that warranty on the thing expired ten years ago!

Do stop by and visit me at www.thetikigoddess.com and sign up for my newsletter and read other fun blogs.

Don’t forget to grab Jill Marie Landis’s newest release

– TOO HOT FOUR HULA –

out today!!

Just click the link above!

And make sure you grab the other fabulous books in the Tiki Goddess Series! Just click the links below!

BE CAREFUL WITH THE LITTLE DETAILS

by Melissa Ford

The first thing you need to know is that I don’t know a lot about television.  I watch whatever my husband puts on at night, and if he doesn’t turn on the television, then it wouldn’t occur to me to choose something myself.  One time my husband went to Berlin for ten days. When he returned and clicked on the television, it was still set to ESPN which he was watching before he left.  He looked at me and said, “you either missed me so much that you watched sports… or you didn’t turn on the television for a week and a half.”  Ding, ding, ding!  We have a winner.

The second thing you need to know is that when we were making Bermuda shorts in our Home Ec class in eighth grade, I didn’t align the front and the back properly so the fabric pattern went in two different directions.  I had hand-stitched my shorts together because I couldn’t get a hang of the sewing machine, and the fabric puckered strangely between the holes in the seam.

I know nothing about television and nothing about sewing.  So why did I make one character in Apart at the Seams a writer for a comedy news show, and the other a finisher for a clothing designer?

It was sort of by accident.  Noah and Arianna were supposed to be minor characters, meant to help hold up the plotline, but they were thrust into the spotlight when we decided to tell the same story over two books from two very different points of view.  If these two characters were a television writer and a finisher in Measure of Love, then they needed to have the same jobs when the story flipped over and was told from their point of view in Apart at the Seams.

The moral of this story is to be careful with even the little, throwaway details.

I was lucky in that a bunch of kind people in New York jumped in to teach me their craft so I could create a believable television writer and finisher.  Jill Katz at the Daily Show brought me to the set and taught me what goes into crafting a half hour comedy show from script to performance.  She didn’t even roll her eyes when I meekly asked her what the man working the camera was called.

And Brenda Mikel, the Atelier Director at Narciso Rodriguez, spent hours walking me through the process of designing clothing. It’s thanks to her that Arianna attaches sequins before the pattern is cut rather than after as she did in the first draft of the book.  There was no question too basic that Brenda didn’t take time out of her busy schedule to answer thoughtfully.

I’m grateful for all the people who stepped in to help bring veracity to the characters and storyline.  Though next time, I’m going to stick with what I know and make my character a women’s fiction writer, working out of her house.  Then again… it was pretty cool to see the Daily Show in action…

Make sure you grab Melissa Ford’s new release

– APART AT THE SEAMS-

out on June 14!!

Just click the link above!

And don’t forget to grab the first two books in this series – LIFE FROM SCRATCH and MEASURE OF LOVE!

Just click the links below!

You Know Who Mark Harmon is, Right?

By C. Hope Clark

          When you think of mysteries, crime, and agents, the routine acronyms come to mind like FBI, CIA, DEA, and ATF. The more arrogant Secret Service guys like to roll out their name and not use initials. Then not all that long ago, we learned about NCIS, the Naval Criminal Investigative Service . . . and Mark Harmon!

But I became aware of another group of federal agents when I signed on with the US Department of Agriculture, and at first blush I wondered what the heck agents with guns and badges were doing around cows and corn, tractors and silos. But when a client offered me a bribe, I learned quickly that crime exists wherever there’s motive and money, even in the country, even within the Ag Department.

The Offices of Inspector General (OIG) quietly exist for all federal agencies, Smithsonian, Transportation, Health and Human Services, etc. But I took particular interest in the Ag Agents since that was my dominion, and I soon learned they could throw cuffs on a culprit as effectively as any FBI agent. So why not open up a new world of crime in a unique mystery series?

Carolina Slade is offered a bribe in Lowcountry Bribe, and she meets Senior Special Agent Wayne Largo with USDA OIG. The culprit? A hog farmer.

Say what? Farmers aren’t like that. Hah! Farmers can be bad guys like anyone else, and this hog producer proved it over and over in the first book of this series. Human blood doesn’t look much different than hog blood, now does it? Our IG agent waded in amongst the muck to help our stumbling yet hardheaded protagonist crack this case.

Then Tidewater Murder drew Slade into the South Carolina Lowcountry amidst tomatoes and shrimp. Drugs and migrant workers caused quite a stir, and we learned that agriculture can get deadly in a hurry.

The term agriculture agent raises visions of cowboy hats, boots, and straw out the corner of someone’s mouth, but as redneck as the role may sound, they are legit. Some of their real cases include:

• Prosecuting Sarah Lee for selling bad meat leading to a Listeriosis outbreak, killing 15 people and sickening over a hundred.
• Breaking up dog fighting rings, to include the Michael Vick case.
• Nabbing a meal and veal exporter who dumped tainted meat on Japan, who then shut down its borders to American meat imports for six months.
• Arresting meat suppliers for dumping uninspected and tainted meat into school cafeterias.
• Busting horse owners and trainers for cruel and illegal practices on horses bred for show.
• Nailing people putting sewing machine needles into food.
• Cuffing a feed supplier for tainting calf feed with formaldehyde.

Theft, conspiracy, fraud, embezzlement, even murder, bribery and smuggling.  It gets bad in many colorful ways the average urban dweller doesn’t fully comprehend.

And now we have Carolina Slade’s newest release Palmetto Poison, where we learn that politics and peanuts can overlap in a bad way. The idea of Palmetto Poison came from the Agriculture OIG’s press release archive, when a produce inspector took bribes under the table to allow substandard products to pass through inspection.

Such action sounds little more than greedy, but can result in serious consequences. Bad peanuts may just sound like a nasty taste, but high levels of mold, fungal, and moisture can make them deadly.

Salmonella can actually wait dormant in that innocent jar of peanut butter until it hits the perfect growth environment, the human stomach. And if inspections get too far out of hand, more serious illnesses rise to the surface, like aflatoxin. Not a common scenario in the protected US of A, thus making it an opportune plot tool in Palmetto Poison, but in third world countries, many die from these cancer-causing peanuts that destroy a liver.

Whenever you have money, subsidies, or profits in the picture, you have crime. While it’s not palatable to think of our food infected with something that could kill us, the potential exists for large-scale tampering. While some mysteries poison the drinking water or substitute flu vaccines with crazy virulent strains of disease, Carolina Slade’s plots scare us where we feel safe, where we don’t expect crime to hit. And the agents in the mix specialize in that arena.

USDA’s OIG might not have a Mark Harmon yet, but I suspect we’ll see one downstream. And if you’ve read any of Slade’s stories, you’ll immediately wonder who could play the luscious Senior Special Agent Wayne Largo. I know I do. And since I married the agent in my bribery investigation, he’s rather intrigued as to who would play him, too!

BIO

Palmetto Poison is C. Hope Clark’s latest in The Carolina Slade Mystery Series. Hope is also editor of FundsforWriters.com, a website recognized by Writer’s Digest for its 101 Best Websites for Writers for the past 13 years. www.fundsforwriters.com / www.chopeclark.com

Check out C. Hope Clark’s newest release – PALMETTO POISON – today from Amazon!

Just Click the Link!!

Fried Okra and an (Almost!) St. Paddy’s Birthday

by Jean Brashear

Is it possible to love leprechauns too much? To thrill overly to the sight of a shamrock and too-deeply cherish the color green?

Yes, my name is Jean, and I adore St. Patrick’s Day to a possibly embarrassing degree.

Okay, so I got attached as a child—its proximity to my birthday and the ready-made party theme imprinted on me early. Learning that my ancestors came from Ireland (with more than a few braw Scots in the mix) only cemented the bond.

Discovering that the first of my family tree to arrive on the shores of what would become America occurred as a result of my ship’s captain ancestor wrecking on the Virginia coast…oh, golly, does that mean I can maybe throw a pirate into the mix? Be still my heart!

I KNEW there was a reason Eudora “Pea” O’Brien of THE GODDESS OF FRIED OKRA (can you say The Great Subconscious?) became a swordswoman!

I’m all grown now, and, yes, I know March 17 isn’t actually my birthday…but I still have this deep-seated urge to brandish shamrock napkins and don green leprechaun birthday hats every March…and maybe to also whip out my sword and join Pea and Glory in a little celebratory sword dance to honor the sisterhood of all those remarkable Goddess of Fried Okra women!

Happy St. Paddy’s, fellow lovers of all things Emerald!

Jean

New York Times and USAToday bestselling author of THE GODDESS OF FRIED OKRA and nearly 40 other novels in romance and women’s fiction, a five-time RITA finalist and RT BOOKReviews Career Achievement Award winner, Jean Brashear will also confess to an ongoing fangirl adoration of the remarkable women at Bell Bridge Books and the amazing books they publish

Visit Jean’s website

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AND DON’T FORGET TO GRAB JEAN BRASHEAR’S NOVEL – THE GODDESS OF FRIED OKRA – TODAY FROM AMAZON!!

JUST CLICK THE LINK!

Three-Leaf Weeds

by Kimberly Brock

I’m not Irish. Not even close. I don’t even look good in green. But there’s something that gets to me every spring when St. Patrick’s Day rolls around – this whole business of luck. I don’t have it. I want to know how to get it. And I’m starting to worry maybe I just missed the turn on the way to my pot of gold.

People will put ridiculous amounts of faith in luck. They’ll latch on to just about any old thing and then claim it to be lucky. There’s the luck of the Irish. Blind luck. Lucky pennies. Lucky horseshoes. Lucky numbers. Lucky socks or shoes or hats or garter belts. Lucky stars. But even with these endless options, I’ve never really been lucky. I don’t stumble upon opportunity or trip over good fortune. I don’t win at slots. I never scratched off a game card and got the Free Big Mac Meal. I never met Ed McMahon at my front door in curlers to receive my Publisher’s Clearinghouse millions. But this stuff happens. Out of the clear blue, it seems, there’s luck. So, maybe people who love the idea of luck are in fact, actually, lucky. Maybe it’s real enough, not just coincidence. But – and this is not because I’m green with envy – I’m starting to think luck might be a lot more than, well, dumb.

I married a man who can find a four-leaf clover without fail. It’s a wonder to behold, how that taciturn man can walk onto any patch of grass, bow his quiet head, and call up a little miracle. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he creates them out of the wishes of his heart. To tell you the truth, I am suspicious of his methods. There’s something annoying about the fact that I can stomp all over that same little patch for hours and all I’ll see is grass and the most ordinary three-leaf weeds on earth. I resent it, if you want to know the truth. I put in the effort. I crouch and squat and squint until my back aches and my head is dizzy and in the end, I have nothing to show for it but a bad attitude. He, on the other hand, waltzes along, whistles, even. He will hardly glance at the ground, just plucking up little bouquets of blessings. He finds them so easily, he doesn’t even care to just give them all to me. Now, what is that? Is that luck?

So, finally, one day I said, It’s not fair. You don’t even have to try. I asked him how he did it. He smiled. And this is what I’ll think about this spring when the stout little leprechauns start trotting around, measuring their shillelagh sticks. He gave me a handful of clover and said, Maybe you’re just looking so hard you can’t see what’s right in front of you.

And that’s when I realized, my luck isn’t Irish at all. He’s German.

Check out Kimberly Brock’s novel – THE RIVER WITCH – on Amazon today! 

Just click the link! 

We  LOVE  Mysteries with Animals

by Sparkle Abbey

We love mysteries that feature animals. Dogs, cats, parrots, ducks…okay, we’ve never actually read a mystery featuring a duck but if there’s one out there that you’ve read, please let us know. We figured there might be more people out there like us – well, not exactly like us – but people who also love mysteries featuring animals. That’s how we ended up writing the Pampered Pets mystery series for Bell Bridge Books – we wrote the kind of stories we like to read.

Our pets comfort us, entertain us, lift our spirits and ask nothing in return. Those furry, feathered, or otherwise adorned creatures make our lives fuller just by being a part of it, don’t they? They do their part and it’s important we do ours.

Alert: We’re about to climb on our soapbox.

If you’re planning to adopt a pet, please consider saving a life by adopting a pet from a local animal shelter. There are many wonderful pets who are looking for their forever homes. If you need help locating a shelter in your area try, this handy finder from Adopt-a-Pet. All you have to do is put your zip code in and it brings up a listing of shelters near you.

And if you’re able, consider a tax-free donation to organizations that help take care of abused or neglected animals like your local shelter. These organizations are always in need of funds and some may also take donations of newspapers, blankets, and other items.  Also, most local shelters are vastly under-staffed and appreciate the assistance of helpful volunteers.

Finally, many strays who end up in shelters are lost pets who did not have identification or the result of unwanted litters. Be a responsible pet owner, make sure your pet has proper ID and please, please get your pets spayed and neutered.

Our pets give us a lot of love – it’s the least we can do for them.

Okay, stepping down off the soapbox.

Now, we’ve got a fun contest for you (and your adorable pets).

Just post a funny picture of your pet on the Sparkle Abbey Facebook page and the poster of the picture that gets the most “Likes” will win a mystery t-shirt, a Petco gift certificate and the Sparkle Abbey book of their choice!

Make sure you grab all of Sparkle Abbey’s fantastic PAMPERED PETS MYSTERY SERIES available on Amazon!

Just click the links!

Brain, Be Mindful of What the Heart Knows

by: Kathleen Eagle

WHAT THE HEART KNOWS is dedicated to two men who helped me grow up.  One was my father.  The other was a fine student who represents all my students, for I have learned so much more from them than I could possibly have taught.  The book is about a man whose heart condition forced him to retire from his pro basketball career.  The story opens when his father’s mysterious death brings him home, where he runs into the woman he left behind.  Full circle.  Once we’ve grown up, full circle can be full of surprises.

How often do we find ourselves saying, “We (or I) have come full circle”?  The answer probably has a lot to do with how old we are, or maybe how introspective we’re feeling at a given moment, or how often we’re given to taking a step back from the moment in order to have a look at the big picture.  Having married into the Eagle clan, I’ve come to appreciate the Lakota view that life’s journey is not, as I once thought, linear—think time line—but rather it is circular, and at the center is the heart.

Picture a dance circle.  The step is simple—side to side—and the rhythm is the most natural beat we know.  Lub-dub, lub-dub.   I haven’t fully researched this claim, but I’m willing to bet that every culture, every human society has a traditional circle dance.  And every circle has a center.  When we speak of the center, we often say at the heart of.  Laughter, love, life—we say these things come from the heart.  When the heart stops beating, life “passes away.”  But we also say, “life goes on.”  Once again, picture the circle.  People holding hands and moving in unison.  They’re not marching in straight lines.  They’re moving side to side, bodies keeping time with the rhythm of life—lub-dub, lub-dub—and life goes on, passed parent to child, hand to hand.

My father died of a heart attack when he was 48.  He had become a teacher after he retired from the Air Force, and he was pleased with my decision to become a teacher.  Since Daddy was a stickler for good grammar and never hesitated to correct mine, I was probably destined to become an English teacher.  I have always loved basketball (Go Timberwolves!) but didn’t know until I was grown that Daddy’s high school basketball team from tiny Colonial Beach, VA won the state championship in the early 40’s.  I met the other four members of his team (they had no bench) at Daddy’s funeral at Arlington National Cemetery.

Robert Eaglestaff was one of my students the first year I taught at the Standing Rock Sioux Indian Reservation.  I taught juniors and seniors that year, and the kids were quite patient with the new fresh-out-of-college teacher from the East. Oh! I was so young, and so naïve.  Bob was the star basketball player.  He went on to play college basketball, became a teacher, later a highly-respected principal.  He died of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy—a common cause of sudden death in young athletes—when he was in his early 40’s.  He was dancing at a powwow.

And now, here’s icing for the circular cake.  Among some pictures my cousin sent me was one of a basketball team that traveled around the country back in the 40’s playing exhibition games against high school teams.  The Sioux Travelers.  The picture was taken at Colonial Beach High School, probably by my uncle.  My brother-in-law told me that there was such a team from South Dakota that was organized by a man from Standing Rock in the 40’s and 50’s.

How’s that for full circle?

Visit Kathleen Eagle on Facebook and read an excerpt from WHAT THE HEART KNOWS and other Bell Bridge Books publications by Kathleen Eagle at www.kathleeneagle.com.

Make sure you grab WHAT THE HEART KNOWS from Amazon for only $1.99!!

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BEING UGLY

by Nicki Salcedo

We aren’t allowed to say the word ugly anymore unless we’re talking about someone’s personality. Ugly is a way of acting, but you can’t call a face or body ugly anymore. In our politically correct world, we have “beauty” and “not quite” as beautiful. No one is allowed to be ugly. Ugly is dead.

I’ve been ugly my whole life. Do not fill up the comment box with false compliments. I don’t need them. I’m better than beautiful. More often than not, I am happy. When things get better, I am confident.  With age I have learned that I am not ugly. I have 10 things I do every day to feel beautiful.

10. Beauty is humor. I laugh as much as I can. Even at sad things. Even rainy and cold days.

9. I find something very small that is beautiful. Usually it is a leaf. It could be an acorn or a blade of grass. Have you ever looked at a single piece of sand? It is a crystal.

8. I become the beholder. Remember that Twilight Zone episode where they people had pig faces? I try to remember that when the hideously disgusting aliens land on Earth, they are going to think that we are ugly. A little mascara isn’t going to change that.

7. I hardly ever wear makeup. You know how the media likes to post pictures of celebrities without makeup? That makes me mad. Why don’t they leave those women alone? Don’t click on those stories. 99% of the time we see movie stars as perfect, but the paparazzi wait for the 1% of the time they aren’t. Not cool.

6. I do wear makeup once in a while, and you all act like I’m a movie star! You say that I’m pretty. The heroine in my novel ALL BEAUTIFUL THINGS has been brutally attacked and wanders the streets at night. She is scarred. She feels ugly. What’s one of her biggest fears? Mascara. I rarely wear mascara, but when I do I’m a rock star.

5. I confront stereotypes. I confront racism. Daily. Do you read books with characters from different backgrounds? A part of racism is alienating yourself from other races. The next time you walk into a waiting room, notice who you choose to sit next to and who you avoid. I’ve had security follow me around a store. I’ve watched women at the doctor’s office specifically not take the seat next to me. I get it. I am ugly to others, but here’s how I feel beautiful. I don’t just ignore it. I’m the queen of the friendly “hello!” when someone tries to make me feel invisible.

4. I love my ugly. I see myself as I am. I do have scars. I have a few extra pounds around my middle.  Warts, scars, stretch marks, and all. I accept my body without excuses. When I’m 80 years old, I’m going to wish I had this body and this face.

3. I look for beautiful things in other people. And I tell them. I see beautiful hands, legs, and smiles. That person may not think that they are beautiful. They might appreciate hearing it.

2. I let beauty grow.  When I’m not wearing makeup, I can rub my face against my kid’s face. That is beautiful. I hope I feel more beautiful tomorrow than I do today. I hope when I’m 80 years old I’ll think I look great in a swimsuit. Hope is another one of those beautiful things.

1. Instead of looking for beauty, I listen for it. I know lots of people, but I couldn’t tell you what they all look like. I couldn’t give you a police sketch of their faces. They might be gorgeous or plain by society standards. I don’t know. I’ve allowed myself to be blind. I know about them through their words and stories. We close our eyes, and our senses blossom. That kind of beauty lasts forever.

Nicki Salcedo is a graduate of Stanford University with a degree in English and Creative Writing. She was born in Jamaica and raised in Atlanta, Georgia. She is a member of Romance Writers of America© and a Past President of Georgia Romance Writers. Nicki is a two-time recipient of the Maggie Award of Excellence and a Golden Heart© Finalist. Her debut novel, ALL BEAUTIFUL THINGS, is a reversal on the beauty and the beast story with a touch of Southern Gothic and romantic suspense. ALL BEAUTIFUL THINGS is available now. You can find Nicki on Twitter @NickiSalcedo, Facebook, and at http://www.nickisalcedo.com.

 Make sure you grab ALL BEAUTIFUL THINGS from Amazon!

Just click the link!

Living the Dreamy Dreamland of a (cray-cray) Writer

Kathryn Magendie

Oh, the joys of being a writer! Why, we see the world in ways unlike mere mortals. Yeah. We do. Of course we do. We walk about with our heads in the clouds, or huddle inside our little spaces with far away dreamy dreamland eyes that rarely blink. I think I once didn’t blink for a week—no! Really! When one of my eyeballs fell out, I thought, “Dang, woman! For gawd’s sake blink!” So I did, and believe you me, I make sure I blink every once and a while. It’s much better that way; take it from me, the voice of experience.

I’m more the reclusive kind of writer. There’s only rumor that I really actually do exist at all. No! Really! There’s no one actually to prove it—okay, there are some who have seen me, waiflike and ethereal, meandering in an otherworldly way with clouds hovering over my wittle head. I’m so incredibly cute!—um, in very very weirdly dangerous to myself way—but I promise I am absolutely not dangerous to others. No sirree. I don’t even see others most of the time to be of any danger to them. Yeah. I just think of really strange things because my characters are doing all this cool stuff and I want to do it along with them. I do! I want to have all that excitement, and mysterious happenings, and!, all that good hot sex. Woooowheee.

Yeah, while writing The Lightning Charmer, I was so in to that book, I actually considered running outside nekkid while calling out to the lightning to “Take me! Take me, lover! I want you! Oh yes yes yes YES!” And without one shameful bone in my little body. Yeah. I surely am telling you the truth. I mean, Laura, that’s the main character, bless her heart, got to have sex with a lightning bolt!—how hot is that, my friends? How dagum hot is that? And Ayron? He’s the love interest, and so much more (I have a crush on him to beat the band so I won’t gush on and on about his awesomeness while I sigh with breathy sighs *cue rising music that fills the chest with longing.*); well, Laura has Ayron, that big hot sexy man who calls down the lightning for her. Oh, to have me an Ayron calling me down some lightning, mm hmmm—why can’t I go find a secret place in the woods and a big hot sexy mysterious man who charms the lightning comes take me in his big ole arms . . . *Kat will return in a moment—she’s having a quick fantasy daydream . . . nothing to see here, move along.*

Welp, luckily I have good sense god gave a goose and won’t go outside nekkid calling to the lighting to give me some hot sex. Huhn. And if I go up in my woods looking for a man, well, I just may find one, but what if I find a Flem and he takes me off to his nasty old shack like he did Laura? Ewww. He was some nasty. Dang it.

Sometimes I think of chunking this writing life. I do! You don’t believe me? Well, buh-leeve me I do. Sometimes I think I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s such a strange business. One that sometimes is unforgiving, and lonely—*sobs quietly for a moment*—and as for money? Good lawd! Let’s don’t go down that sad road.

But then, if I didn’t do this, who would I be? What would my world be like? How would I think of all kinds of cool things I’d love to do, even if I really can’t do them. Even if I can’t sex it up with a lightning bolt or a sexy lightning charming man, my character can, and I can live vicariously through her, and the others I create (or are they creating me?—stop the existentialism, Kat!). And it’s fun. And exciting. While I’m writing it, I am living it, y’allses! I am!

And when I’m not writing it, I’m thinking about it. And when I’m not writing and thinking about writing, on the seventh day, I rest. Dang, that might sound blasphemous, and in the south and mountain south you just don’t DO that kind of thing. Even if you might not believe in God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit, it doesn’t matter—you by gawd better respect it! So, let me rephrase that: I never rest. At all! Yeah, even a god will get to rest, but my brain is on electro-dynamic-zippity-do-dah-day seven days a week, even when I’m sleeping—you don’t EVEN want a peek inside my brain, or my dreams. No. No, you do not *shivers.*

Now. If you are a writer, then you might be nodding your head, or you just might be going, “This woman is cray-cray! Good lawd!” And if you are not a writer, you might be going, “This woman is cray-cray! Good Lawd!”

Later y’all! Oh! Before I go: thank you all. Thank you all for supporting us writers by reading our work and encouraging us and staying ten feet back from us when we stare up at lightning with a gleam in our eyes. Teehee. But I adore you all. I do!

(A big P.S. The Lightning Charmer is on promo for one day only! For $1.99—wooowheee! That’s pretty danged cheap, y’all!)

Make  sure you head over to Amazon today in order to get this great deal on THE LIGHTNING CHARMER!! Just click the link!