Tag: writing (Page 10 of 14)

Meet Margay Leah Justice Author of Sloane Wolf

August 16, 2013 / Katie L. Carroll

So my big news of the week is that I’m on Twitter now (@KatieLCarroll). I’m working on organizing who I follow and figuring out the best way to use it, but I’d love some more followers. But enough about me, let’s give a warm welcome to fellow Muser Margay Leah Justice, author of Sloane Wolf, as she discusses beginnings.

Beginnings

by Margay Leah Justice

The story begins in a small New England town where a little girl with a big imagination learns how to put words on paper. From the first moment the girl picks up a pencil, she beholds its magical powers and her eyes light up with wonder. With just a few strokes of her hand, she is able to transfer the words swirling around in her head onto a piece of paper. A story! She can write a story. So she does. Many years later, she is still beholding the wonder of the words swirling around in her head making their way onto paper, only now it is through the magic of computers, not pencils. And the “paper” is sometimes virtual or neatly gathered into a nice cardboard binder with a pretty picture on the front and not the blue-lined medium of her youth. She is a writer.

So began my humble journey. From my imagination to my reality, it all began with a love of words – and the desperate desire to get them out of my head and onto paper. Long before I realized that there was a word for what I was doing – writing – I put pencil to paper and let my imagination have free reign. Whether it was in pictures or words, I felt compelled to put it on paper. Everywhere I went, I carried a notebook and pen. Every place I visited, I hoarded brochures that inspired my imagination. My favorite place to hang out was the local travel agency whose employees indulged my habit of collecting pamphlets advertising trips to faraway places. I was always planning, researching, writing and rewriting. For me.

In the beginning, I wrote for my own pleasure. Even my friends and family had to fight to get a peek at what I was doing. It was a private thing and I didn’t want anyone sharing in it. Perhaps I was afraid that they would get an intimate glimpse into who I really was as a person and wouldn’t like what they saw. Perhaps I was afraid that they would laugh at me because I really didn’t have the talent to write. Or maybe I was just stingy and wanted to keep it all to myself. Whatever the case, I didn’t start out thinking that I was going to publish some day. I just wrote because I was driven by some unknown need to do so. It wasn’t until junior high school, at the encouragement of my English teacher, that I began to realize I had some talent for this. If an English teacher thought I had promise, then surely I must – right?

Still, I kept my writing mostly to myself. My friends and family still had to fight for a peek at what I was working on, even when I was half-heartedly sending out submissions to publishers. I think, in the beginning, I sent them out expecting to be turned down to justify my suspicions that I wasn’t good enough to be published. With that knowledge in hand, I could go back to writing for my own pleasure and stop the nagging of others who thought I should publish what I wrote. For me, then, writing was still a very intimate thing that I wasn’t ready to share with the world for fear of exposing myself to it – and coming up short. After all that time, I was still worried that I wasn’t good enough.

In the beginning, I didn’t have the confidence in myself – as a person or a writer – to pursue the dream in earnest. It did smolder in the back of my mind, a little ember lit by my first feeble attempts at getting published, but it didn’t begin to burn up my misgivings until I’d learned to believe in myself. I realize now that I had lived in something of a cocoon back then and didn’t have enough life experiences behind me to instill the confidence I would need to pursue this career. And one thing I have learned on this journey is that you need a lot of confidence – in yourself as well as what you write – in order to achieve any level of success. If you don’t believe in yourself, who will?

So it begins with a dream. It is sustained with belief. And it is achieved with perseverance. Whether it is an epic tome or just a flash, it all begins with the same things: A blank page, a big imagination, and you.

Sloane Wolf blurb:

For more than a hundred and fifty years, the gray wolf has failed to roam the hills of Massachusetts, leading to the belief that they are extinct. But with a spattering of sightings across the Berkshires, the legend of the gray wolf comes to fruition. The product of that legend, Micah Sloane will go to great lengths to protect his kind from the threat of outsiders, who seek to exploit the legend for their own interests. One thing he didn’t count on, however, was finding his soul mate in the company of such men.

From the first time she predicted a stranger’s imminent death when she was little more than a child, Shiloh Beck knew she was different. Wishing to cultivate her gift, her parents made the fateful decision to enroll her in a private school for paranormally gifted children. Unbeknownst to them, the school was just a front for a research facility simply called the Institute, whose secret board members weaned gifted children from their families to exploit their gifts. Shiloh has spent the better part of her life trying to escape the Institute and reunite with the family she was told had abandoned her.

From their first meeting, Micah and Shiloh share a connection that goes beyond the normal to bond them in a way that love alone cannot. But before they can build a life together, they must deal with the fall-out when the legend of the wolves collides with the men behind the Institute.

Sloane Wolf can be purchased at the MuseItUp bookstore, Amazon, Smashwords, and other e-book retailers.

About the Author:

Descended from the same bloodline that spawned the likes of James Russell, Amy and Robert Lowell, Margay Leah Justice was fated to be a writer herself from a young age. But even before she knew that there was a name for what she was doing, she knew one thing: She had a deep and unconditional love for the written word. A love that would challenge her in times of need, abandon her in times of distress, and rediscover her in times of hope. Through her writing, Margay has learned to cope with every curve ball life has thrown her, including the challenges of single parenting, the harsh realities of living in a shelter, coping with the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, and the roller coaster ride of dealing with a child who suffers from bipolar disorder. But along the way she has rediscovered the amazing power of words.

Margay currently lives in Massachusetts with her two daughters, two cats, and a myriad of characters who vie for her attention and demand that their own stories be told. In her spare time, she is an avid knitter, knitting her way through a stash of yarn that almost rivals her tbr pile! For about Margay see her author blog, the Moonlight, Lace, and Mayhem blog, Twitter page, or Facebook page.

Meet SS Hampton, Sr. Author of Better Than a Rabbit’s Foot

August 5, 2013 / Katie L. Carroll

I am very honored to welcome SS Hampton, Sr., a veteran and fellow Muser. He is the author of the short story Better Than a Rabbit’s Foot and is talking about writing and emotions. Welcome!

Emotions—Pen to Paper

You know, writing might seem to require a split personality at times—no, I am not referring to writers with multiple pen names, which can be confusing enough.

Imagine writing an intensely emotional scene with one eye caught up in the scene and the emotion, while the other is coolly evaluating the magically appearing words and deciding whether the scene truly belongs in the story and if it is faithful to the emotions associated with the scene. And those thought processes are taking place at the same time. Sure, when you’re in the editing phase you can be logical and methodical, but when writing, is the emotion there that you can feel and relate to, and is it making its way into your manuscript? Or, are your carefully chosen words there but are empty and fail to convey the intensity of the emotions to the reader?

It can be difficult to do, I know.

As we all know, the best source for emotional inspiration is our own experiences—some wonderful and positive, some terrible and negative.

For example, do you remember how you felt the first Christmas with a brand new baby? Do you remember how the tiny eyes looked at the flashing lights and glittering tree ornaments? Maybe the baby was old enough to reach out a tiny hand toward the tree. (Curiosity in children is such a wonderful thing.) When my children were old enough to walk at Christmas they wanted to play with the shiny balls hanging from the tree almost as much as the family cat did. And we had to keep an eye on the baby as much as on the cat.

So, close your eyes for a moment. Replay those scenes. What emotions come to mind? What words would you use to describe that scene? Warmth? Joy? Love? Happiness? Do you feel warm all over? Are you smiling? Do you feel good, feel happy, regarding that memory and similar memories? Jot down what comes to mind and how you feel, before you forget.

However, there is always a reverse to the coin—sadness and anger. And when remembering these, it might be best to take a breather once the writing is done. These are powerful emotions too, just like love and happiness, but they are negative emotions.

Do you remember hearing of the death of a loved one, a friend, or someone you happen to know? Do you remember what emotions went through you? Shock? Sadness? Rage? Perhaps there was a proverbial “cold chill” that really did race through you, startle you, and make you tremble? Were your hands cold, clammy? Yes, it really is true that word of sudden death will send a cold chill through you. If woken up from sleep, you will find yourself wide awake. And later, in the quiet of the day or night, you will think of your own mortality. Someone you knew, close or not, who was once a living, breathing human being with dreams and hopes, is now gone—lifeless. Death comes for us all sooner or later, but upon receiving such news you will find that shadow uncomfortably closer to you.

As before, close your eyes for a moment and replay such scenes. Jot down the memory of emotions and physical sensations.

And more so than above, once you have finished writing scenes of sadness and anger, close the lid on such a Pandora’s box, take a break, take a deep breath, and enjoy the little things in life around you.

By the way, even if you’re a reader instead of a writer, you be sure to enjoy the little things in life around you too.

Better Than a Rabbit’s Foot blurb:

Sergeant Jerry Stanton is a young soldier serving in the War in Iraq. He is a gunner on a gun truck nicknamed “Lucky Bear,” one of those tireless workhorses that escort supply convoys from camps in Kuwait to destinations scattered throughout the war-torn country. In the early morning hours before a scheduled mission, a dust storm howls across his camp and threatens to bring convoy operations to a halt. Worse, the camp receives word that a gunner from his company was killed by an IED while on a convoy mission. Unlike most soldiers, Jerry doesn’t carry a lucky charm, but upon receiving news of the death of the gunner, he begins to mull over/ponder the merit/virtue of a good luck charm—only, what would work for him? Perhaps mail call will provide the answer.

You can purchase Better Than a Rabbit’s Foot at the MuseItUp bookstore, Amazon, and other ebook retailers.

Excerpt:

“People like a happy ending.”

Sergeant Jerry Stanton, an M4 Carbine slung across his chest, glanced at the dark form that trudged alongside him in the hot, early morning darkness. It was all the darker for the dust storm howling across the small camp, a dusty and sandy convoy support center, CSC, a mile south of the Iraqi border. He placed his hand over the tall styrofoam coffee cup from the messhall that was open at all hours to serve those about to head out on a mission. He felt the itchy dust filtering down his back, along his arms, and coating his fingers.

In spite of his short time deployed to Kuwait, he had learned that dust storms were worse than sand storms; they were hot and itchy while the sand storms stung exposed skin and chilled the air. Breakfast was good but tasted flat, more due to the question of whether their mission would be a go or no-go because of the storm that roared out of the midnight darkness hours before.

“What?”

“People like a happy ending,” the soldier repeated. He was a gunner from another gun truck as the squat, venerable M1114 HMMWVs, which were never meant to be combat vehicles, were called. He held up a rabbit foot that spun frantically in the wind and added, “I like a happy ending. Especially now.” They rounded the corner of a small building, actually a renovated mobile home trailer with a covered wooden porch lit by a bare electric bulb. The gunner pointed to a small black flag, suspended from a log overhang, flapping furiously in the wind.

“Oh shit.” Jerry sighed as a cold chill raced through him.

“It’s been there for an hour or so,” the soldier said as he enclosed the rabbit’s foot within both hands and brought it up to his lips as if to kiss it. He glanced at Jerry. “I’m not superstitious, but still, I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having a lucky charm. You know?”

“Yeah.” Jerry nodded as he watched the twisting flag. “I know.”

The soldier looked once more at the black flag and then walked toward the shower and restroom trailers beyond which were the air-conditioned sleeping tents they called home…

About the Author:

SS Hampton, Sr. is a full-blood Choctaw of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma, a divorced grandfather to 13 wonderful grandchildren, a published photographer and photojournalist, and a member of the Military Writers Society of America. He is a veteran with prior service in the active duty Army (1974-1985), the Army Individual Ready Reserve (1985-1995) (mobilized for the Persian Gulf War), and enlisted in the Army National Guard in October 2004, after which he was mobilized for Federal active duty for almost three years. Hampton is a veteran of Operations Noble Eagle (2004-2006) and Iraqi Freedom (2006-2007). On 1 July 2013 he retired from the Army National Guard with the rank of Sergeant First Class. His writings have appeared as stand-alone stories and in anthologies from Dark Opus Press, Edge Science Fiction & Fantasy, Melange Books, Musa Publishing, MuseItUp Publishing, Ravenous Romance, and as stand-alone stories in Horror Bound Magazine, The Harrow, and River Walk Journal, among others. Second-career goals include becoming a painter, and studying for a degree in photography and anthropology—hopefully to someday work in and photograph underwater archaeology. After 12 years of brown desert in the Southwest and overseas, he misses the Rocky Mountains, yellow aspens in the fall, running rivers, and a warm fireplace during snowy winters. In December 2011 in Las Vegas, Nevada, Hampton officially became a homeless Iraq War veteran.

You can find out more about SS and his stories at Melange Books, Musa Publishing, MuseItUp Publishing, his Amazon author page, his Amazon UK page, and his Goodreads page.

Meet Antje Hergt Author of Darinel Dragonhunter

August 2, 2013 / Katie L. Carroll

Seems the guest bloggers can’t get enough of the Observation Desk. Today I have fellow Muser Antje Hergt and her middle grade fantasy Darinel Dragonhunter on the topic of revision. Welcome, Antje!

Revising a pet peeve or life saver?

I often get asked what I like most about writing and I never have to think twice: the writing. The time when you sit in front of your computer and pour yourself into your story or characters faster than you can type or if I was writing long hand in my lunch breaks, the moment I got over the pain of old-fashioned writing and lost myself in filling page after page of my journals. That’s what I love about writing.

So I have to answer frankly that revising is my pet peeve, the part of writing I like the least and I procrastinate the most. After having finished my first book, working on my second and various chapter books, I have to discipline myself to not just write, but spent an equal amount revising.

Funny enough, once I am actually in the process of revising, I don’t mind so much anymore. I am so engulfed in the story now that scenes just pop up demanding to be moved or changed. The perfect flow, I thought I had achieved, suddenly wobbles, and crumbles. Watertight continuity abruptly stumbles and falls in every story hole I created and if I am really honest to myself, I take pleasure in finding them before the reader does.

After, of course, the initial groaning of having to redo complete scenes, I enjoy to dive in and rewrite parts, add dialogue and character flaws. The joy comes from the result, but the path to it is the goal. Once I convinced me/my gatekeeper that revising isn’t actually that bad and she lets me write, I realized it’s not that bad. To see the story unfold in more layers, finding deeper nuances and three-dimensional character brings a different kind of satisfaction that can be even greater than the writing process. The comparison from the first draft to the last makes the process rewarding and interesting, but I admit freely I am not a wordsmith who polishes every word, phrase and sentence. I am not writing to achieve the most innovative, crystal-sharp, and economic language you can possibly achieve, but to have fun and let the words flow. In my case, they follow their proper story guidelines and are out to entertain. So yes, they might be more flourished than necessary and I bet a skilled writer could tell my story in lesser words and more pointed images, but that is not how I write. I simply write to entertain and that is how I approach the revising and editing part of writing as well. Nothing wrong with that, I think, as long as the reader is aware of it. Don’t you think?

Thank you for joining me on Katie Carroll’s blog today.

~Antje Hergt

Darninel Dragonhunter blurb:

Prince Darinel is traveling–for what feels like forever. Expelled from his father’s kingdom, he just wants to find a new home. When a shadow lures him to a wealthy kingdom, he stays to discover more about the darkness, but the citizens are tight-lipped.

Their king welcomes the foreign Prince hoping that he will solve his two problems: the dragon and his strong-willed daughter. Coming from a warrior kingdom, Darinel despises violence, but charmed by Princess Tuskja’s dare, he sets out to confront the beast. Instead of finding a fierce dragon, he finds a friend. The dragon’s malicious humor and his love of fairy tales entangle Darinel in a summer of adventures, while danger stirs in the East, the Dark Prince. Being refused by the Princess and humiliated by the dragon, this proud prince seeks revenge.

In compliance with the king’s decree, Darinel is torn between his friendship with the dragon and his love for Princess Tuskja, whom he can only marry if he kills his friend. Before he can make a decision, the kingdom is under attack. Now it is up to the dragon to either help his friend or respect his wish to not interfere.

Darinel Dragonhunter can be found at the MuseItUp bookstore (link might not work because a new Muse site is coming soon), Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and other ebook retailers.

Excerpt:

“A very human viewpoint,” the voice agreed. “But it brings so much trouble.”

“Exactly. I just didn’t fit in my father’s plans and… Well, I kind of got kicked out.” Prince Darinel is traveling–for what feels like forever. Expelled from his father’s kingdom, he just wants to find a new home. When a shadow lures him to a wealthy kingdom, he stays to discover more about the darkness, but the citizens are tight-lipped.

“Really?”

“After I told my father, I was leaving,” Darinel explained, his hands moving to support his words. “I wanted to spare him the embarrassment so I packed my things and told everybody I was going on an adventure.”

“And that’s why you are here now?” the voice inquired, amused.

“Nah!” the prince said with a smirk. “I just wanted to leave with a believable explanation, so my father wouldn’t lose face for having a firstborn who doesn’t want to fight…and to make room for my little brother.”

“Lose his face? Like it would fall off?” the voice asked, confused.

The prince laughed. “Man, what rock have you been living under?”

“Why? What’s so wrong with living under a rock?” The voice sounded hurt.

The prince bit his lip to stop the laughter building up in his chest, but failed miserably. Laughing, he replied, “It’s just an expression. Haven’t you heard it before?”

“Not that I recall,” the voice said, sulking. “And I pride myself on knowing quite a few phrases.”

The prince sat up straight.

“I’m sorry. It is a common phrase where I’m from and it stands for ‘to be embarrassed by someone’s actions.’ But it also means to lose respect and honour.”

“Oh, I see. So, by admitting that you hate fighting, you would be a disappointment to your father and he would be embarrassed by you. Am I correct?” inquired the voice, eager.

The prince winced. “Yeah, you could put it like that.”

“Ha! I learned something new today!” the voice said, excited.

The prince smiled. “Glad to be of help.”

“So, what’s that got to do with your little brother?” the voice asked.

“Well, I’m the first born and so would inherit my father’s kingdom. My little brother would have been the one to leave and find his own place.” Darinel intertwined his long fingers. “But he belongs there and is madly in love with the daughter of one of the knights.” He smiled at remembering his brother’s astonished face.

“With me still being unmarried, they weren’t allowed to wed either. You know, stupid rules royalty have to live by,” he added, flinging his hands in the air. “So I decided to go. This way he can marry and stay in my father’s kingdom.”

“Quite a noble sacrifice.” The voice sounded impressed.

“Oh no…” The prince smiled, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is!” the voice boomed, and a few rocks splashed into the creek. “You gave up everything for your brother.”

The prince shook his head. “Isn’t that what any big brother would do?”

“I don’t know.”

The voice remained silent for a moment and Darinel watched the stream as it rushed by.

“So why are you here then?”

A grin flashed over the prince’s face. “Princess Tuskja dared me.”

“Did she now?” The voice sounded amused. “Knowing her, I can picture that.”

“You are acquainted with the princess?” He looked up, surprised.

“Well, just from her roaming around,” the voice admitted. “She has quite an inquisitive mind. She explored my mountains for a while.”

The prince nodded. “Yeah, sounds like her.”

“But then her father found out and locked her up in the castle.”

Darinel shaded his eyes, but still couldn’t make out where the voice was coming from.

“I heard rumours about that. Anyway, all I wanted to do is settle here.”

“So what happened?” the voice asked.

“I went to the king to ask his permission to stay,” the prince said, “which he granted. But then he threw in this assignment of killing the dragon and getting his daughter in reward.”

“Really?”

“Yep, that’s the deal,” the prince said. “I thanked the king and pointed out I was only interested in settling down, not marrying. That’s when the princess dared me.”

“Ouch!”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I could not let that pass, could I? She ridiculed me in front of the whole court. So I packed my horse and came up here.”

“That’s tough,” the voice replied sympathetically.

“Yes, it is. But anyway, it’s way too hot to fight today. And I’d rather make friends than enemies. So, won’t you come out now and sit with me?” the prince offered a second time.

Silence fell over the little valley, where the creek bubbled quietly. He feared the voice had left when a loud rustle like sails in the breeze filled the air. The sun disappeared as the wind picked up. Little dust roses curled skyward and showered him with debris. He leaned into the rock as the dragon landed in front of him. With great care, the beast folded its wings, curling his tail around him. Darinel’s eyes widened with admiration. Tall as three horses stacked on top of each other and wide as a house, the dragon towered over him. His dark green scales reflected the sunlight so intensely he had to shade his eyes. Impressive claws scraped the ground as the dragon tilted his head and golden eyes studied him with keen interest.

He smiled as he observed the dragon in return. For a moment, neither of them spoke and Darinel had the feeling the beast was as curious about him as he was about it. Slowly, it lowered his triangle-shaped head to take a good sniff at him, revealing its horned eye ridges. Darinel held his breath, but strangely he didn’t feel scared, more intrigued. The dragon didn’t look mean. Its golden eyes radiated warmth and longing more than fierceness and malice. It was intelligent with a wicked sense of humour. He liked that.

“You knew it was me all along?” the dragon asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The prince tilted his head, so he could see the dragon better and smiled. “Who else would be out here with a dangerous dragon lurking around in the mountains?”

About the Author:

Born and raised in Germany, Antje Hergt came to explore the Canadian Rockies in Canmore, Alberta in 2003. Taking part in the Writing-with-Style Program at the Banff Centre for the Arts in 2007 encouraged her to follow her passion: writing for children. Darinel Dragonhunter is her first novel, which was inspired by her deep love for classic children literature and fairy tales. Her thrill for science fiction/fantasy movies and television shows had an outlet in various genre short stories. She is a member of the Alberta Writer’s Guild and graduated from the Justus-Liebig-University in Giessen with a degree in Modern Languages.

Currently, Antje still lives in Canmore with her snoring cat, Sally, and gets inspired by the magic of the Rocky Mountains. If she is not in Canmore, you can find her in Germany. For more about Antje

The Making of Revelations by Julie Lynn Hayes

July 26, 2013 / Katie L. Carroll

Today I’ve got fellow Muser Julie Lynn Hayes discussing her book Revelations, an alternate historical romance. Welcome, Julie!

The Making of Revelations: How it came to be

by Julie Lynn Hayes

The idea was born many years ago. Over forty, actually. When I was a teenager. Back then, it didn’t have a name, and it had no real shape. But I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell the story of Judas Iscariot. The trouble was I didn’t know how.

What drew me to Judas, is probably what you’re asking yourself, and that’s a valid question. Ask anyone else who Judas is and you’ll get answers that are probably all variations on a theme of betrayal. I’m not sure exactly when I began to question that, but I do know that when I saw Jesus Christ Superstar performed live back in 1971 (or thereabouts), I had an epiphany regarding him. I saw him, not as the bad guy as often portrayed, but someone who not only believed in Jesus but was willing to do what he needed him to do. For without Judas’ “betrayal” of Jesus, the story would not have worked out the way it did. It needed to happen that way. And if you read the Gospel of Judas, he was the only apostle who trusted Jesus enough to do that for him. Gives one food for thought, doesn’t it?

Very interesting, but where’s the story, I wondered. Was I going to take an historical perspective, research the man and his life? Easier said than done, especially back then. We had no Internet. We didn’t even have computers. Research was all done through books. Libraries had card catalogs, a far cry from today when you can log onto your library website and browse their selection, then request what you want. So I looked and I found bupkus (nothing). I had the Bible, of course, but it tends to be limited on information, as well as a bit biased.

So nothing was written, and I let it go, as my thoughts formulated in the back of my head. In the meantime, I was reading, watching… and learning. King of Kings was my first Biblical movie, and I loved it. Jeffrey Hunter’s portrayal of Jesus is very moving, and I was very enamored of the film. Jesus Christ Superstar – I think I know all the words, I’ve listened so many times. I liked the stage version, but the first film not so much.

Besides watching these things and others, I read. Christopher Moore’s Lamb, The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal. What a fabulous book! I loved it! So much I bought the special edition. And I read The Gospel of Judas! Forty years ago I’d never heard of such a thing. Of course I read the DaVinci Code, and watched the movie. And everything began to percolate inside my head…

Then one day it happened. Judas spoke to me, for the first time. And I simply began to write it down, not knowing what he might say, or where his story might lead. It turned out to be quite the story and took me on quite the journey, and led to places that I didn’t expect it to. If he’d have spoken forty years ago, I would not have been ready to receive his message. But my life up until the moment that I first heard him speak prepared me. And the result is Revelations.

The original title was Kyrie Eleison, a tribute to the Mister Mr. song, Kyrie. Kyrie eleison means Christ, have mercy on us. But then fellow author Marie Sexton, who was reading Kyrie for me at the time, suggested a simpler title. A better title. Revelations. So Revelations it became.

I know there are people who will not like Revelations, and by extension, me. People who will not see the message it carries, only that it does not follow what they believe. But ultimately, no matter what you believe, Revelations is a story of love. Love is the message, and love is something that binds us all together.

Revelations is love.

Thank you for having me here, enjoy your day!

Revelations Blurb:

Judas has never been very popular, not in any incarnation that he and Jesus and the others have lived through. But he doesn’t care about that. All he cares about is following the instructions of God as set forth in the script that they follow. And Jesus. For Judas has secretly loved the son of God for over two thousand years.

But now he decides that enough is enough, and he’s tired of watching Jesus die far too early, and for what? This time Judas is determined to see that Jesus lives a long and happy life, no matter what price he has to pay to accomplish it…no matter if he has to make a deal with the devil himself.

Revelations is a story of what could be, told by those who play it out, time after time after time, unbeknownst to the rest of mankind. They’ve come back again, for yet another round. But this time is going to be different.

Revelations can be found at the MuseItUp bookstore, Amazon, and All Romance Ebooks.

Revelations Excerpt:

Prologue: God

It’s not always easy to sit on the sidelines and watch what is happening, to resist the urge to intervene in his best interest. My son’s that is. Jesus. But I do so, because I know it’s for his own good. As well as for the good of mankind. I can’t let my concerns as his father override my vested interest in the fate of man. But sometimes that is easier said than done.

This morning I am not alone. Someone else is with me, someone with his own agenda, although we are not as diametrically opposed as some would imagine us to be. Good and evil aren’t the simplistic concepts some would portray them as being—there are more grey areas there than you might think. And rightly so.

He smirks. Too much for my taste, I have to admit, but sometimes he does have his moments, and he too has a part to play in what is happening in the world of men. Someone needs to fill the role of the villain, after all.

The stage is being set for the third act, the scripts have been handed round, and the actors are taking their places. Will this time end any differently than the others? That depends on my son, on Jesus. I’m thinking this will be the time when he’ll make the change.

“He’ll change nothing,” Lucifer interjects, although I’ve asked him nothing, certainly not inquired as to his opinion.

I glance at him. He’s dressed to within an inch of his life, and wears the most ridiculous sunglasses I’ve ever seen. I decide not to comment on his fashion sense. “I think he might, this time. I think he’s ready for change.”

Lucifer snorts. “It’s been two thousand years, and neither one has exactly caught on yet. Why should this time be any different?”

“Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

He eyes me carefully. “I would, but you see you have this whole mystic omnipotent God thing going on. Personally, I don’t care for those odds.”

I arch an eyebrow. “I may be omnipotent, but Jesus does have free will and he does possess the ability to make his own decisions. You think I’d stack the deck in my son’s favor? Just to win a bet with you?”

“Let’s say I’m taking no chances.” He smiles. “Tell you what, though—give me free rein. Let me do what I want, and you not say anything or do anything to interfere with me? As far as they’re concerned, that is.”

I open my mouth to object, he hastily interjects. “No killing, I swear to it.”

That’s better. I still have some measure of control over the serpent.

“So be it.” I agree, turning my attention back to where it had been, to my son. I’m smirking now. Openly.

O ye of little faith, watch and learn.

About the Author:

Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she’d never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn’t mind. Marching to the beat of one’s own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her other published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing and No Boundaries Press, and coming soon with both Extasy Books and Torquere Press. She has also begun to self-publish and is an editor at MuseitUp.

You can find her on her blog at http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com, and you can contact her at tothemax.wolf@gmail.com.

Alpaca Farming with Priscilla Brown Author of Anna and the Soap Opera

July 15, 2013 / Katie L. Carroll

Please welcome back Priscilla Brown, author of the contemporary romances Anna and the Soap Opera (see my Goodreads review here) and Nothing But Love. Alpacas play an important role in Anna and the Soap Opera, and when I found out Priscilla actually owned alpacas, I just had to learn more about these adorable creatures. Welcome, Priscilla!

I didn’t know I was looking for a story idea when I saw a newspaper advertisement for a seminar on alpaca farming. But as I read the information, a plot began to form in my head: he owns an alpaca stud and the local council wants his land for development of some kind.

Attending the seminar sparked my interest in these charming animals; the next stop was the alpaca exhibition at a country show. There, I fell in love. She was young, pretty, friendly, with fine black fleece, and she was for sale. My suburban backyard being no place for an alpaca, I negotiated agistment with the owner. Deal done, this excited writer turned alpaca owner began a new journey.

I bought a second young female, and through my visits to my huggable investments, my interest and knowledge increased. These animals are intelligent and curious, with individual personalities and mostly nice natures. My girls (they are referred to as girls and boys) let me hug them; they are soft and warm. I helped at shearing by collecting and separating the shorn fleeces, which taught me about quality. My two alpacas matured, were mated, and had crias; my small herd expanded.

As I spent time with them, the alpaca stud story developed. I sat in the paddocks absorbing the ambience of the peacefully grazing animals, making notes and jotting down possible scenarios. Much of this did not get into the final narrative, as I reminded myself this story was a romance, not a treatise on alpacas. There were two occurrences which I was particularly fortunate to witness; while they did not fit into the plot, they did feed into my overall experience. The first was a birth; she was a first-time mother, and while naturally protective of the cria (baby), she appeared completely relaxed. The second took place in a paddock with mothers and young crias; the girls organized the youngsters together with one mother sitting with them, while the other mothers grazed undisturbed. Alpaca child care.

The fictitious farm needed a problem, and I didn’t want to write about the use of agricultural land for anything but agribusiness. And why ‘he’? I had no mind picture of a male farmer.

But suddenly ‘he’ became ‘she’; her image, backstory and current difficulties arrived neatly packaged. My fictitious alpaca breeder Anna had a house, a position as mayor of her small country town and huge financial problems dating from her backstory. These were not sufficient to provide sustainable conflict, and the male protagonist was missing. Then at a party on a blistering hot day, one of the men joked about doing the full monty—they didn’t. But Kyle did—enter into the story a sexy television entrepreneur with designs on Anna, her farm and her town, appearing on page one in the full monty. He was nothing to do with my personal alpaca experiences, but as the ‘soap opera’ progressed, he fitted into it well.

This story is an example of what writers are sometimes advised—‘write about what you know’. By the time I felt ready to start on it, I had picked up a quantity of information concerning alpaca husbandry, but there were still points which I researched to confirm and expand my knowledge. I loved writing about these appealing animals, making them the four-legged stars in the romance between Anna and Kyle.

Anna and the Soap Opera blurb:

Excited that television producer Kyle Kinross wants to shoot his blockbuster drama not only in her struggling country town but on her cash-strapped alpaca farm, Mayor Anna Marshall sees his company’s fee as a solution to financial predicaments. But can she survive accusations of payola? Is this sexy younger man buying her influence against community opposition, or could he possibly want her for the generous loving nature masked by her business suit?

Anna and the Soap Opera is available at the MuseItUp bookstore, Amazon, and other ebook retailers. Nothing But Love is also available at the MuseItUp bookstore, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and other ebook retailers.

About the Author:

Since coming first in English in Primary School, Priscilla resolved language would be her future. She majored in Literary Studies and added a Diploma in Migrant Teaching (English as a Second Language). Creative writing always beckoned, and, over time, she collected a box full of story ideas: a notebook crammed with fragments of dialog mostly garnered from eavesdropping in cafes; observations of people again from cafes and also public transport; pictures from magazines of potential characters and settings; possible names and titles. Moving house proved the catalyst for turning this hoard into “proper” stories. Packing, she spent too much time browsing through the box, and as soon as her new desk was organized, she embarked on a fiction writing career. Priscilla lives in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales, where she does much listening, observing and writing over coffees in the many cafes.