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Explore the A to Z's of Writing by Marie Lavender

10/11/2021

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Explore the A to Z's of Writing: an admin article by Marie Lavender

This week, I thought I'd take a moment to go back to basics. I would like to explore some terms we use in the writing industry. For newbies, you'll hear these from fellow writers or editors at your publisher at some point. Or, you might see them on how-to articles. And if you've taken a writing workshop at all, you've probably heard most of them. Even if you're a seasoned writer, it can't hurt to reacquaint yourself with these words or phrases, as well as to keep the following advice in mind. So, without further ado, let's explore the alphabet of writing...
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Photo by Pawel Janiak on Unsplash.
1. A for Antagonist - The villain in a story, or at least a concept/obstacle which stands in the way of the main character (protagonist) reaching his/her goals or happiness.

Writer Tip: Always include an antagonist, or at least a barrier preventing the protagonist from getting what he wants, in any work of fiction. This automatically creates conflict, which heightens tension and moves the plot along.


2. B for Book - a published volume which includes a single manuscript, or a collection or anthology of several works. Such work housed within the book can be fictional in nature, fact-based, or even include poetry. There are full-length books in the industry, as well as shorter ones. A published 'book' may be in digital (ebook) or physical format (such as a trade paperback or hardcover). A 'chapbook' is often a shorter book written by one author, with numerous poems or short stories included.

Writer Tip: Whether you decide to get published traditionally or on your own, do your homework on your intended genre and make sure your manuscript is properly edited and formatted in advance.

3. C for Creativity -
A type of self-expression for a writer or artist which may result in the form of writing, painting, sketching, or designing a work of art. Creativity is the act of turning new ideas into reality. Some businesses might ask an employee to implement creative problem-solving just to come up with a unique solution to an issue.

Writer Tip: Stretch your creative muscles by trying different mediums. Start writing in a separate fiction genre, go for an essay, or construct a poem instead. Another option would be to paint or draw a scene or element from your story. Some fantasy writers like to expand on the idea of world-building by making a map of that fictional world, a fun detail to include inside the book when it gets published. Create a shadowbox for a room in your house (use a specific theme), or even paint the wall in a new color.

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Photo by RhondaK Native Florida Folk Artist on Unsplash.
Any of these creative endeavors can open your mind to new writing ideas.

4. D for Development and Dialogue

Development - You'll usually see this in reference to 'character development' or 'characterization'. A character is a person represented in a fictional tale. The story can be told from this individual's perspective.

Writer Tip: Know your characters well, especially the main ones. Even if you don't include every detail in the story, it can't hurt to know how a character would react to a certain situation. Be sure to add 'consistent inconsistencies' (for example, a thrill-seeker who is somehow afraid of heights). More than than anything, though, you must learn to listen to your main character.

Dialogue - The speech patterns and discussions between characters. This is separate from the internal thoughts (monologue) of a main character. Dialogue in a book should be as natural as possible.

Writer Tip: To exhibit realistic dialogue in a story, take some time to recognize the flow of conversations in real life. How do people talk? What gestures or sounds do they make during specific parts of the discussion? How do they emote or express themselves?

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Photo by Kelsey Chance on Unsplash.
5. E for Empathy - A sense of fellow feeling for another person, or putting yourself in their place. This is a key component for any writer who intends to create a believable character. It's also necessary to add enough emotion which translates on the page so that readers will start to care about what happens to your character. The way you do, right? ;) If you have begun to wonder where you're going wrong, then try to connect better with your character. Learn more and imagine how they'd respond to situations.

I know I've done my job when I'm feeling the emotions that the character is going through. If he or she is sad, tears are probably streaming down my face, too. No, I'm not really crazy. This is just the writer's journey as the story progresses. It's no different than getting choked up while watching a dramatic film. When we write, the story plays out in our heads like a movie. So, why wouldn't we respond to that in kind?

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Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash.
Writer Tip: Know the plot and main character well enough to express those facets within the story. Remember, empathy is deeper than sympathy. Readers will come back for more if you evoke the same emotions in them. Make the story and characters relatable.

6. F for Fiction - Often told in story or novel form, fiction is a creative work,  concerning people, places, or events. It is not based in fact, though certain objects, historical figures, and actions which are mentioned can appear real. The key elements of fiction include character, theme, plot, point of view, setting, conflict, and tone. Fiction can be divided into different areas or 'genres'.

Writer Tip: Unfortunately, some parts of reality must off-set an imaginary world. The more of a relatable quality you can add to any story, the more likely a reader will connect with the characters and the events happening therein.

7. G for Genre -
This describes the category that a specific book falls under. Some examples are romance, mystery, science fiction, and horror. You've likely been on Amazon and noticed all the sub-genres listed there as well. So, that leaves a lot of room for writers to put their stories.

Writer Tip: Try your hand at writing different genres. Use the following prompt:

Rain came down in sheets, a hard battle against each window, while lightning struck nearby. The raging storm outside, though, hardly compared to the one within.

Continue the story on your own from where the last sentence started. At the same time, think about the separate tones you can add to the tale to make it more romantic, mysterious, supernatural or spacey, and even creepier. Write four different versions, one for each genre - romance, mystery, science fiction (feel free to substitute asteroids for rain, as I know it doesn't rain in space), or horror. They don't need to be long stories or even finished, just enough to establish tone. Then, decide which one you like best.


8. H for Hook -
A 'hook' is a sentence in the first paragraph of a scene or chapter which compels the audience to keep reading. If this is done well, the pop, so to speak, usually falls in the first sentence. Similarly, a 'closing' positioned at the end of a scene or chapter, should make the reader want to find out more. That means they're in it for the long haul, prepared to continue diving into the reading experience. 

Writer Tip: Do your best to avoid losing the audience in the first chapter, but especially in the first paragraph. Draw someone in with a leading sentence that makes them wonder what happens next. If you effectively use the same technique for opening and closing each scene and chapter, you'll have nailed a big part of the author job description. The most challenging portion of landing a good hook, however is doing it for the whole project, in the first sentence of a story or book.

9. I for In the Middle of Things - This is a direct translation for the Latin phrase 'en medias res', a term we use in the industry for stating the best place to start a story - in the midst of some action. Sometimes, as writers, we don't realize the beginning until we've written other leading sections. For example, if your project entails a woman getting fired and how she handles it, breaking out on her own and finding a new career, you wouldn't want to start the story at breakfast time, right? No, you'd begin when she's hauling her butt - perhaps complete with a speeding ticket - to get into the office without being late, just to find out she's been let go. Or, you might start it right at those fatal words.

"Sorry, Julia. We've decided you're no longer a good fit for this company."
Um...what?

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Photo by Pradeep Ranjan on Unsplash.
Exactly. Do you see how those punches to the gut can hook a reader into wondering how the character will react? Oh, no, she's been fired. What now?

Writer Tip: Take some time to decide where your story starts. Better to do that now than to be forced to cut out a whole section - one you thought was the beginning of the tale - later on.

10. J for Justice -
My own term for the moment when a story's 'climax' and 'resolution' have produced a fitting end. For me, it usually comes when I'm reading a mystery, thriller, or romance novel. Book lovers both dread and relish this moment. They get peace, at long last, for everything in the story finally has reached a positive outcome. However, the story is over and the reader must move on, which is a regrettable conclusion.

Writer Tip: Make sure your own story has a sense of 'justice' by wrapping up all the loose ends in a satisfying way.

11. K for Knowledge (Research) - Your grasp of information which you've gleaned through an educational experience. With writing, the term we use is 'research'. It's a sometimes dreadful yet rewarding challenge. Some newer writers feel that research is a waste of time. Believe me, it isn't. There will undoubtedly be facts you need to learn just to fill in a character's personality or background. For example, we can't all know what it's like to be a firefighter, or how to describe a cottage in Somerset, England. That's what research is for. I promise you this is not a time-waster. Let's face it, your audience is intelligent. They 'know stuff', for lack of a better phrase. For example, historical fiction writers rely heavily on their understanding of past events, and how they can use them as a main backdrop for a story. The characters might be fictional, but the way the people interact with what really happened then offers the audience a sense of how some individuals must've responded to it at the time. Research is key here. Greater authenticity in a book attracts more readers. It's supply and demand, that's all.

Writer Tip: Break your large research tasks down into smaller ones. Look up one fact per day, or spend an hour per week filling in all the details you procrastinated about. Then, stop and continue next week. It might not look like it at first, but these little jaunts of research add up over time. Plus, once you have everything organized, you can just do a quick search for what you wanted to know. So, pull on your big kid pants and get to researching.

12. L for Literary Fiction - This sub-genre still includes all the rules of fiction, while invoking a deeper character study. The focus then moves toward conveying a message about the human condition, and sometimes an overall political or environmental statement. In literary fiction, the character must evolve in some way, perhaps even have an epiphany by the end of the story. A small population of readers tend to get snobby about this genre, calling it 'true literature'. Though some elements of each story may reflect other fiction categories, the intense depth of character portrayed in these books make them 'literary fiction'. Some examples of literary fiction are The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, and The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, amid countless others. Many of this genre's popular titles have been adapted into film.


Writer Tip: If you're more of a character-driven story writer, literary fiction may well appeal to you. You might find you're more comfortable writing here. Try it out...what can it hurt?
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Photo by x ) on Unsplash.
13. M for Motivation - This is what drives a character to keep going. It's about the thing they want the most in life, and the actions taken to reach their goals. Motivation is a key element to recognize when learning about your main character. It will help that person attempt to circumvent the antagonist, or big obstacle, which is standing in their way. And sometimes, at least internally, the problem could be their own misconceptions about the world or themselves. Motivation can also be subconscious - a deeper dream - something that person has always wanted, even though they might not have thought it was possible. Perhaps they came from a foster care situation and always wanted a real family.

Writer Tip: Identify what motivates your character. What does he or she fully desire? What is the most important thing to them? What are they willing to do to get it? Also, what exactly is the problem in the story? What prevents them from reaching their aspirations? Eventually, it will all be buttoned up by the end of the story. But for now, what is driving your character forward?

14. N for Non-fiction -
A written work which is distinguished by the very fact that it is, well, not fictional in any way. Usually, you'll find biographies or even autobiographies, covering real people in the world, whether he or she lives currently, or was instead a historical figure. Either way, that person has existed at some point, and they're the sole topic. Memoirs fall under this category. Creative non-fiction, or 'narrative non-fiction' as the more popular term, is when a writer constructs a story about a real person yet adjusts small details - names, personal traits or appearance, perhaps even smudges some dates - to protect those identities. The events that happen are real, and so are the emotions which stem from them. Yet, creative license allows the writer to embellish on certain facets of the tale, while still diving deep into characterization and finding out how someone ticks. The artist at the helm of a non-fiction work becomes the conduit for a real-life story to be told.

Other types of non-fiction include reference materials on various subjects - informational resources for those who might require them. Such resources can also include travel guides, books on philosophy, self-help or instructional guides of any kind (books on dieting, cookbooks, business success titles, and how-to manuals, among others). Journalism and humorous non-fiction are a part of this overall category as well, at least as long as the commentary relates to current events. Just for fun, I'll list several names of authors featured here on Writing in the Modern Age over the years who published works of non-fiction (some write in multiple genres). Some of those writers are Wayne Neely, Kathryn Elizabeth Jones, S.A. Soule, Cindy Fazzi, Dougie Brimson, Lance and James Morcan, Stefan Vucak, Mark Iles, Jim Anders, Rhonda Cratty, J.L. Smith, Lisa A. Snidernman, and so many more.

Writer Tip: Try your hand at non-fiction. Write an essay or an article for a blog. Keep track of your sources and make sure they're legit. Or, if you're truly passionate about a topic, maybe you'd like to write a non-fiction manuscript and submit it to a publisher.

15. O for Outline -
A writer's outline is a little like a book synopsis, which is often submitted in a query to a publisher or literary agent. This is a detailed account of what happens in a story. Sometimes, brainstorming is used to create an outline. The outline helps to fill in some of the blank spaces for writers who are struggling to finish a book. At least, having an idea of the events that occur next gives them a sense of what to focus on during the project. Let's say that you, as the writer, have a general notion of what the book is about. But, how do you get there? Writing is rarely a linear journey. However, making an outline can benefit you, sometimes exponentially. Perhaps you know what the character wants in life, and have a basic idea of what he should do to get there. Yet, it isn't your life. This is the character's. His background, environment, and any assumptions he's made about the process will come into play. You must take all of these details into account. Look at the path like a roller coaster ride. There will be ups, downs, then twists and turns to reach the end. So, now knowing all that, what can we glean from it to make an outline?

Writer Tip: Start at the beginning, and think of possible scenarios which could happen. What might get in the way of your character's goal or goals? Obviously, you shouldn't overload the path with tragedy or anything. But, throwing in a few obstacles can't hurt. It heightens tension, and may eventually make your character more determined to get there. Try a brainstorming session to get some ideas flowing.
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Photo by Biljana Jovanovic on Pixabay.
Once the true course seems evident to you, write a detailed outline.

Actually, for a book project, the outline might even be longer than a polished synopsis which you'd send to a publisher. Just remember that your outline will provide a clearer route for the character's end game, and this will also make it easier to write the story. Some writers are pantsters and not knowing what happens next actually works for them - they see it as inspiring. Personally, I find it more reassuring to have an outline. That way, I can organize my approach. Cutting through the chaos makes me more productive. The choice, however, is yours.

16. P for Premise, POV, and Plot

Premise - The premise of a story is your personal pitch. It's basically the main idea for the book, often told in a few sentences. This is so foundational, as you can't move forward without it. Even pantsters need this general sense of the story to write.

Writer Tip: Let's say you have a thread of an idea, but you're not sure about it. Try this. Write five different yet basic story ideas, a sentence or two long for each one. Remember, you won't know all the details just yet. Pick the idea that calls to you most, the option that causes you to feel excited to dive in. Congratulations! You're ready to get to work.

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Photo by PublicDomainPictures on Pixabay.
Point-of-View (POV) - Think of this term as a camera spanning the room. The angle portrays the character's perspective. I see third person POV (he/she) a lot in romance novels, though now and then, an author will surprise me. Romantic comedies are usually told in first person (I). Urban fantasy writers pick that approach quite often as well, perhaps to immerse the reader in a deeper perspective, which is sometimes more conducive to action-heavy tales. The point-of-view you select for a story is a personal choice, though.

Use one type of POV per story. For example, third person narrative versus first person POV. You can use both, but I wouldn't advise it. It gets too confusing, mainly for the writer. I tried it once with a mystery which I wrote (the victim in one scene, and then from the killer's perspective). It's better to choose one per book. If you're not sure which to go with, try writing a scene from both perspectives and pick the one that feels more comfortable. If you become familiar with it, the reader will sense that as well and feel connected with the story.

Writer Tip: Please avoid head-hopping. Stick with one POV per scene. If it's necessary to switch to another character's perspective, do a scene break and then change over.

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Photo by Borna Bevanda on Unsplash.
Do not jump from one character to another, and then to the next one, over and over again in the same space. You will make your reader dizzy, certainly confused, and they'll be tempted to throw the book across the room. Believe me, I've proofread nightmare stories from fellow writers. And they weren't intended for the horror genre. So, just to be safe, use the perspective of one character per scene instead of hopping around. Other characters may interact with that person, but we won't know what they're thinking.

Plot - This is the sequence of events which comprises a story. Plot includes the beginning, middle, and end. Whereas the premise is the book concept, the plot is the storyline which comes alive on the page - it's everything that happens to the characters. Plot can be told, written, sung, or come out through film. There is no good novel without a great plot, and 'action' is what drives it forward.

Writer Tip: Take the idea you just came up with and start thinking about a main character, as well as some events that could happen. Remember motivation and how certain obstacles can stand in the way of a character's goals. See what kind of plot you can create.

17. Q for Query - An inquiry from a writer, usually in the form of a letter, which is sent to a prospective literary agent or publisher. This person is addressing the agent/publisher about possibly submitting their manuscript. Included in a query is often a brief synopsis and an overview of the writer's professional experience. Guidelines for each company vary; some want to read a few paragraphs or pages from the first chapter in advance. If the agent or editor-in-chief at the publisher is interested in learning more, they may ask for a larger sample of the book to read, or even request the full manuscript. At some point, they will get back to the writer with their response. Most will say six weeks is a good waiting period, but it can last much longer.

Writer Tip: Always check the guidelines for each agency or publisher you're querying. They all have different rules. And don't be discouraged if you don't hear back from them right away. People get busy. Just turn to other tasks to get your mind off the anxiety of waiting, or you can keep querying with other agencies. Remember, rejections are par for the course. A form letter is typical. If you receive any detailed feedback, consider the suggestions. The decision to change anything is up to you, though. Don't let someone else's words deter you from your goals. Keep trying and keep writing.
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Photo by Arif Riyanto on Unsplash.
18. R for Reader - A reader is someone who peruses and absorbs books, and he or she is often a bibliophile (book lover or collector). This is your eventual audience. A good critique partner will look at your story from the perspective of a writer, editor, and reader.

Writer Tip: Choose your trusted circle of crit partners and beta readers wisely. The best feedback should challenge your assumptions about the story and help improve your writing. This will get you well on the path so that a real reader can see your book once it gets published.

19. S for Setting and Sensory Details

Setting -
This is the character's environment. It's where the story is set, whether that is a city we know, or one we've never heard about. Finer details - by using description - help to paint a clearer picture. It can be the main character's house, their workplace, or some other area where they visit.

Writer Tip: Try to describe a place you know or a location where you'd like to travel. Use your memory to fill in the details. Or, do some research online. Implement the tools we have at hand, such as the street view on Google Maps or through studying pictures you find online (or at a historical society), to make the setting come alive.

Sensory Detail -
A more specific way of describing a person, place, or a thing. What color? What type of fabric? What brand name? It's not just a tree; tell us what kind. Writing experts will advise you to use the six senses. Try the main five first (sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing). We don't need to go as far as to say that the final sense is supernatural or anything. Let's just state that the sixth sense is intuition. As humans, we all get certain vibes about a person or a place. That's what we try to tap into as authors when writing a story. Short of coming off as an omniscient narrator, you can work in somehow that the character 'senses' something is wrong, or even life-changing. You can be less vague than that, but you get what I mean.

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Photo by Emma Valerio on Unsplash.
Writer Tip: The more direct of a description you can include about the character's environment or the objects they interact with, the easier it is for the reader to visualize what you're talking about. What is the color? What is the object made out of? How does it feel to the touch? Is there a certain smell in the room the person just entered? By digesting these finer details, a reader will be able to better picture themselves in that fictional world with the character, therefore feeling more connected to the story.

20. T for Tension -
An element in writing which is used to introduce a sort of low-level anxiety in a reader, along with the wish to find out what happens next. However, tension can be increased, depending on suspenseful or dramatic moments in the story. Tension is there to evoke emotion in the audience. You've probably noticed it with movies. In romance writing, a tense moment denoting an unspoken chemistry is often utilized. Even if the characters don't act on it, there are internal and external cues that make it obvious. Tension is used in mystery stories as well, sometimes to create a sense of dread. As aforementioned, we continue to experience tension when a character who has a goal gets thwarted by obstacles here or there. It is a simple way to add tension over time. Obviously, you can add more tension, if there is danger or by creating an immediacy to each scenario.

Here's a real-life situation we can all identify with: You need to buy groceries, but your weekly check got delayed. Do you ask a relative for a loan to tide you over, or try something else? Then...oh, great. The washer broke, so you are forced to go to the laundromat to get your laundry done.

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Photo by Jeremy Sallee on Unsplash.
Well, that just made a bad day even worse. So, what actions can you take to resolve these issues?

That was rhetorical, but I think you understand the immediacy of the problem.

Writer Tip: Create ways to heighten tension for your character, or add a sense of dread for the audience. Perhaps the character is spying on someone because he needs to know the truth, but is afraid he will get caught. Write about the physical sensations he might experience. Also, what is he thinking?

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Photo by Nourdine Diouane on Unsplash.
All of this will add tension for readers and they'll feel more invested in your character. Infuse a sense of urgency, so that the reader is squirming to learn what happens next.

21. U for Unreliable Narrator (or Reliable Narrator, diversely) - Reliability, or the lack thereof, is a way of measuring and declaring the quality of a story or its characters. Common sense can't hurt, either, at least with regards to a writer using it to make connections about how an individual will react to a specific situation.

Writer Tip: Write about a character who is believable, more like a real person, with flaws, strengths, and internal conflicts, rather than a typical archetype you might often see in a certain genre or in a movie.
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Photo by Ria Sopala on Pixabay.
Just make sure you cover yourself legally if you decide to base a character on someone you actually know or anyone in the public eye. Change the name and a few other details (their appearance and background). You still want to keep your friends, after all. Besides, you certainly wouldn't want to get sued over a defamatory statement.

For myself, I never base my characters on anyone in particular. I just offer the necessary information and let the reader's imagination fill in the rest. They probably all see the characters in different ways, at least until they get a look at the book cover, right? ;) 

22. V for Voice - This is a fancy term for discussing a writer's individual approach to storytelling. It's basically their style. Every writer has a voice, and it eventually shows up in a manuscript. Most editors are smart enough to avoid messing with voice. There's also 'passive voice' versus 'active voice' when it comes to grammar. It's a separate thing entirely, and that has more to do with word choice and rephrasing.

Writer Tip: If you're worried that you haven't quite found your unique writing voice yet, don't be. You'll come into it naturally over time, especially with increased writing practice.

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash.
23. W for Writer - Someone who naturally gravitates to the art of writing novels, stories, poems, essays, or is even a blogger at heart. Other people prefer journaling. No matter the medium, a writer is a unique blend of crazy, creative, ambitious, and numerous other qualities that it takes to pursue his or her goals.

Writer Tip: Never lose the joy of writing. Always remember where you started and why it feels so perfect to let the muse take over, how much freedom you feel when you're in the writing zone.

24. X for X-ray - An extra pair of eyes couldn't hurt, at least to help out with proofreading your manuscript. ;)

Writer Tip: If you're looking for a proofreader or editor, don't ask a family member to read your book. Unless your cousin is a whiz kid at grammar, that's different. But this is a very tender stage for a writer, and you can either expect people to tell you what you want to hear, or the worst criticism you've ever encountered. You don't want that from your nearest and dearest. It's best to select an impartial party, someone who doesn't know you completely, and can separate their feelings from the bigger picture.

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Photo by Anne Karakash on Pixabay.
You need REAL feedback - constructive criticism, someone who is willing to tell you what works and what doesn't. Hire an editor. Find a proofreader. Look for critique partners you can trust. Use beta readers. All of these people serve a different purpose, and can help to shape your manuscript into something you'd be proud to show the public.

25. Y for YOU - There is only one 'you', and you're the one directing your story.

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Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash.
Writer Tip: Without you, the tale goes nowhere. Your vision will keep the plot going, and the characters will eventually find a home with your readers. You know your story best. The creative train doesn't shift without you, as the writer, who puts in all the work to keep this engine moving.

26. Z for Zest - A little pizazz or unique flair.

Writer Tip: Throw in some zest. Use your own blend of spices. Write on a topic or create a story that moves you. Go for what you feel passionate about.

There are so many more terms and phrases which we use in the industry. This was just a sampling, my take on what is significant at the moment, as well as some related writing tips. I hope it all helped! ;)

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Photo by Gerd Altmann on Pixabay.
Blogger Bio
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Multi-genre author of Victorian maritime romance/family saga, Heiresses in Love, and 18 other books. Marie Lavender lives in the Midwest with her family and two cats. She has been writing for a little over twenty-five years, with more works in progress than she can count on two hands. Since 2010, Marie has published 21 books in the genres of historical romance, contemporary romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, romantic comedy, dramatic fiction, fantasy, science fiction, mystery/thriller, literary fiction and poetry. An avid blogger on the side, she writes adult fiction, as well as occasional stories for children, and has recently started some young adult fiction. She also contributed to several anthologies. Though Marie has standalone titles on the market, her current published series are The Eternal Hearts Series, The Magick Series, The Code of Endhivar Series, The Misfits Series, The Blood at First Sight Series, and The Heiresses in Love Series. but she has many others planned. Her Victorian maritime romance sequels are returning, and the second editions of the trilogy will be released soon under her new publisher, Foundations Books. Discover more about her and her work at the following links.
List of Links:
https://linktr.ee/marielavender1

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age book spotlight here.

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Book Feature: A Look at YA Fantasy Novel FAIREST by Sophia Zaccaria

9/13/2021

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Hi, readers! We have a real treat in store for you today, a spotlight on a book by Sophia Zaccaria, quite a talented author!    
    
We wish you lots of success on your young adult fantasy novel! 
   
Let's check out the details, shall we?

book cover for Fairest a YA fantasy novel by Sophia Zaccaria depicting a mysterious witchy woman who also looks like a princess

About the Book

Here is the book blurb for Fairest.  

Flirting with evil will be the ruination of her soul.

Goodness is much easier to corrupt than it is to hold on to. And for Natasha, a woman reeling from the pain of losing a loved one, evil is all the more tempting. Luck or misfortune spirits Natasha away to the foreign Court of Velaris in a quest for a suitor but instead secures her a place among Velarian royalty. Craving revenge, Natasha makes use of this opportunity to enact her plans as she navigates the lush court where aristocracy is a double-edged blade. But when she befriends her soon-to-be husband Mikhail, the Beloved Prince, Natasha makes a deadly mistake. She captures the attention of the debonair Darkling Prince; a villainous man meant to ascend the Velarian throne.

Enamored, the Darkling Prince charms Natasha, and soon the two feel a forbidden emotion captivate their stoic, scabrous hearts. But with the existence of a violent rebel group capable of cataclysmic damage, there is little time for love. With war brewing amidst the enigmatic kingdom, the royals must become all the more cunning and devious if they wish to triumph over their adversaries. What draws the insidious line between right and wrong when it comes to a battle of survival? For Natasha, nothing is too far, too light, too bloody, too evil.

Soon, the only reflection Natasha sees in her mirror's beveled glass is that of an Evil Queen. Often, the cost of survival is more frightening than the beasts of death. But that's what gives the Queen of Shadow's beauty an edge: she wears her darkness adorned about her throat like the grandest of all diamonds, ebony, and bloodred in shade.

Release Date:  July 18, 2021

Genre:  YA Fantasy, Some Romance Elements

 

Sounds like an intriguing read here!

 

Purchase Links:

Goodreads     Amazon

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/4Xreo9

 

Sophia is also giving us a peek at this book today!

Readers, here’s an excerpt...

Danilo’s blood drips mockingly from his mouth, a terrifying scarlet smile. “I think you know just how this has to end, my scarlet queen.”

Crimson blood slid down my alabaster skin as I innocently said, “With your heart on a platter for me to feast upon?” I tilted my head in consideration. “Or shall you prefer I maul your heart first, bathe in your blood, then feast upon your heart like the delicacy it is not?”

In a pique of rage, he snarls and lashes forward, his sword slicing into my left arm, reopening an old wound.

Attack. Attack!

In urgent, coaxing shouts like whispers and tears had become lovers and found their voices together, the alluring phantom’s voice said, Evil is to show mercy when death is inevitable. Instantly enraged with some ancient chaotic fervor, the adrenaline of the brawl masked my pain, and I lunged forward. Kill! Like before, I listened to the enigmatic voice. And now, I became a predator—lethality incarnate bent on only one goal: to kill.

I’d been depriving myself of revenge. I would do so no longer.

Ice exploded through my veins, heralding the darkness.

Drawing on a modicum of power, I summoned my darkness and turned the air around me to shadows of obsidian. Danilo deserves no mercy. At this thought, the shadows around me grew until I felt its edges touch the netherworld itself. My magic surged forward, and I twisted it into an imitation of the Velarian dungeons. Horrified, Danilo watched in morbid fascination as shadows reminiscent of a cell’s smothering walls surrounded him. “Don’t.” His voice was sharp with emotion, and a slow smile lifted my mouth.

“Don’t what? I mean you no harm.” No physical harm. The shadows merely created a mirage, a general impression of shades from dull greys to dried-out reds turned burgundy. Paired with chains and imposing spiked bars that seemed to asphyxiate its prisoner, my mirage was perfect. But not inescapable. If he had enough sense of mind, he could swipe his hand through the shadows, and the nightmare would disappear. But fear is the mind’s warden, and now it is Danilo’s prison. Danilo’s face contorted in a grave expression of pain. “S—stop.” I laughed caustically in the wake of his fear, remembering that a few hours ago, Danilo had stabbed me.

“Stop?” I parroted a moment later, stalking close enough to notice the tiny hairs on his neck standing straight while he trembled. “That word meant nothing to you then. It meant nothing when I begged. Nothing when I pleaded with you to show mercy.” I curled my fingers, analyzing his reaction to the prison encircling him. “Why should it matter to me now?” A mutinous smile of antipathy curled his mouth.

“I awoke you. Without me, you would still be the obedient Darkling Queen, nothing more than an antinome. I unleashed your darkness, and I will never leave you, even if I am gone.” No, it’s a lie, but . . . Danilo’s analysis is all the more poignant when I take into account the scene: Danilo, the victim, and me, the aggressor and villain. Embittered by this, I mocked, “Well, I want to know who we are without each other! I want to know if I’ll recover that broken piece of innocence you STOLE!” Collecting my magic for a finishing blow, I reared my arms back, aiming . . . Wait, whispered the feminine phantom. Against my better judgment, I did, reining in my power until it swirled in inky clouds and fulminated against the restraint. Keep him alive. Trust me, you’d rather make a wicked deal now than kill.

Intrigued by the suggestion, I scrutinized Danilo thoughtfully, my already opalescent complexion turning entirely statuesque as I stared down my enemy. Finally, I spoke, “I wish to have my curiosity satiated. To know what my temperament will be without you whispering evils in my ear.”

Intriguing!

So, what are other readers saying about this book?

☆☆☆☆☆

"Great dark fairytale!! I have a soft spot for villains. I always wonder what their backstories are and what caused them to become the bad guy. So, when I read the blurb for Fairest, I knew that I needed to read it. It is not very often where the origins of the Evil Queen from Snow White are explored!! I am glad that I did because this book had me glued to the pages.

Fairest tells the story of Alina (aka Natasha) and her rise/eventual metamorphosis to the Evil Queen. It was a sad but fascinating tale. A fantastic read.
"
– Read with Me Blog, Amazon

Wow, it sounds like quite a read!

Get your copy of this YA fantasy novel today, readers! Or, add it to your Goodreads bookshelf or BookBub!

Thanks for letting us know all about this book, Sophia! :)

About the Author:

Sophia Zaccaria is the author of her debut novel, Fairest, a retelling of Snow White, and is a massive fan of the classic Grimm fairy tales. As a young Canadian writer, Sophia is always looking to weave mystical and magical things into her stories. Sophia enjoys kickboxing, jogging, and visiting eighteenth-century Gothic scenes to appease her muse's darker side when she is not writing. You can discover her linguistic adventures by following her on Instagram @thesophiazaccaria and Inkitt.

Author Links:

Inkitt     

Instagram

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Interview with Author DJ Swykert

7/22/2013

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My guest today is DJ Swykert. Hello, DJ! Welcome back to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here again.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?
book cover image for The Death of Anyone a mystery thriller novel by DJ Swykert depicting a beautiful dead woman lying on the ground with a film noir impression on the gray background and book title  

My new book, The Death of Anyone, introduces readers to a DNA search technique not in common use here in the U.S., Familial DNA. A lot will be written on this subject as the real life trial of Lonnie David Franklin, The Grim Sleeper, unfolds in California this year. The book also introduces a new character for me, a female homicide detective. It's not the first time I've written from a female POV, but she's the first in this role. I’m hoping the book will appeal to an even broader audience than Children of the Enemy, or Alpha Wolves. There is a romance along with the mystery in the plot and some real science.

The Death of Anyone was released by Melange Books in Minneapolis the end of February. It’s available at: Melange Books, Lulu, Amazon, and Bookwire.

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you?

I first heard about Familial DNA Searches while working as a 911 operator in 2006. It came up in a conversation with officers. I thought at the time it would make an interesting premise for a book. I began writing the mystery some three years later after leaving the department. I had just finished editing a first draft of The Death of Anyone in the summer 2010 when news of The Grim Sleeper’s capture in Los Angeles was released. I read with interest all the information pouring out of L.A. regarding the investigation and the problems confronting prosecutors. All of which are explored in The Death of Anyone.
 
This sounds fascinating!

So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I don’t know if I ever actually 'decided' to be a writer. I remember the first thing I wrote, a bad poem to a pretty girl, I was a teenager, and Tennyson’s "Flower in the Crannied Wall" gave me the idea to try my hand at poetry. I still recite Tennyson’s poem. I think my desire to try writing novels came from reading them, in particular Hemingway and Fitzgerald, and when I was younger, Mark Twain. I simply enjoyed the storytelling, and think I inherited a little storytelling ability from my grandfather, who was really good at spinning a tale. 

My grandmother did the same thing.  LOL. 

Do you have any favorite authors?

I’ve already kind of answered this; Tennyson, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain. You can add Byron, Auden, Chekhov and Annie Proulx to the list. Oh, hell, there’s a host of great writers, my list could go on for pages. But these always have stuck in my head. 

I know what you mean.  I have WAY too many to count.  

So, do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

Currently, I write mornings on a desk in the garret, as my girlfriend calls it, on the third floor of our townhouse. But I’ve written just about anywhere I can find something to write with, even on a bunk in the Houghton County Jail, er… that was just once, for a short while on a traffic violation. 

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?

Keep typing, and submitting. I believe in the old Hindu saying: Given enough time, coincidence is inevitable. There is a measure of coincidence in finding a home for your writing. You have to have skill, a good story, but also some luck. You can improve your odds by applying The Law of Large Numbers, which allows prey species to survive by reproducing in large numbers. Your writing can survive in the same way, get it out there, and keep putting it out there. Be productive. And keep your fingers crossed.

Good advice. 

So, readers, here is the the blurb for The Death of Anyone.

Detroit homicide Detective Bonnie Benham has been transferred from narcotics for using more than arresting and is working the case of the killer of adolescent girls. CSI collects DNA evidence from the scene of the latest victim, which has not been detected on the other victims. But no suspect turns up in the FBI database. Due to the notoriety of the crimes a task force is put together with Bonnie as the lead detective, and she implores the D.A. to authorize an as yet unapproved type of a DNA Search in an effort to identify the killer. Homicide Detective Neil Jensen, with his own history of drug and alcohol problems, understands Bonnie’s frailty and the two detectives become inseparable as they track this killer of children.

Here's an excerpt from The Death of Anyone. 

Benham arrived first, no sign of Russo or Jensen. She got a table and told the maitre de to send them over when they arrived, and that there would be a third party, a Detective Lagrow. As he seated Benham, the maitre de informed her, “The show starts at about 12:30 pm. We have a couple of new dancers."

Benham screwed up her nose, gave him a curious eye. “Dancers?”

The maitre de nodded. “Yes, belly dancers. We have a new one I’m sure your friends will appreciate. She’s very good-young, friendly.”

Benham just shook her head. ”I’m sure they will,” she said as she sat.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Whoa, the brake in her head told her. You know you, you know your history. You know what a slip can do to you. Doctors, psychologists, treatment, rehab, counselors, AA, each and every one of them flashed across her head as her mind absorbed the offer. “Just a coke, or, actually, would you just bring me a black coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Benham sipped her coffee and looked through her brief notes of the case. They were very brief, there was little to put in them. A young girl, perhaps ten, dead, strangled, almost for certain assaulted, lying in an alley for a few hours. And it had only been a few hours—Pierangeli seemed pretty sure she hadn’t been there long. She was found at around nine-thirty am, so she died maybe around eight am. She lay there, choked, defiled, beautiful, and dead, and nobody was looking for her. She had to have been taken pretty early this morning, so it’s been about five hours she’s been gone, and nobody loves her enough to miss her. Benham could feel the anger rising from within, from the source where feelings come from, from deeper but inclusive of the stomach, from the birthplace of emotion.

A hand touched her shoulder and startled her. “Me and Jensen are here, bring on the dancing girls,” Dean Russo bellowed, joyous almost, and that irritated Bonnie a little. There was nothing to be happy about this day.

“You’ll get your wish. The belly dancers will be here in a few,” Benham said, with a bit of obvious disdain that Russo picked up on.

“You picked the place.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bonnie answered, feeling a little sorry now she sounded so disapproving. “Yeah, I picked it. Didn’t think about belly dancers, but, hey, we’re here, and I love pastitio, and they have the best. Sorry if I sound pissy, it’s only because I am. Once you see the girl, you won’t be dancing in the street either.”

Russo quit laughing. “How long you been in homicide, Benham?”

Bonnie could see she rubbed something, “A couple of months.”

“You were in narcotics?”

“Yeah, I was in narcotics. I was in it and it—I was narcotic.”

There was a pause. Jensen looked across at Russo, glared a little, trying to shut him up with a look. And out of the corner of his eye let Bonnie know he saw her, too. He wanted her to keep this cool.

But it was a little late, and Bonnie was a bit volatile. “You know fucking well I was in narcotics. And you fucking know why I’m in homicide. I got myself transferred out for becoming more narcotic than narc. Quit beating around the bush. What’s your point?”

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/4A52gA

 

Author Bio
  photo of author DJ Swykert

I’m a blue collar person from Detroit. I’ve worked as a truck driver,dispatcher, logistics analyst, operations manager, and ten years as a 911operator, which was the very best job of them all. I write stories like you’d watch a movie and put them down on paper. I have written in different genres; crime, romance, literary and The Death of Anyone, which is a
mystery/suspense story with romance and science in it. 

The last sentence in my writing bio is always: He is a wolf expert. I am not a biologist. I raised two arctic hybrids, had them for eleven years, and have written two books in which the wolves join the other protagonists. 

I have been fortunate enough to have my writing appear in: The Tampa Review, Monarch Review, Sand Canyon Review, Zodiac Review, Scissors and Spackle, Spittoon, BarbaricYawp and BULL. The other books I have written are Children of the Enemy, a novel from Cambridge Books, and Alpha Wolves, a novel by Noble Publishing.

Links:

Blog: www.magicmasterminds.com

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/david.swykert?ref=ts&fref=ts

LinkedIn:  http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=193494247

Other Links:  http://www.gypsyartshow.com/2013/03/the-death-of-anyone-by-dj-swykert.html

http://www.omnimysterynews.com/2013/01/please-welcome-novelist-dj-swykert.html

 

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Interview with Author Steve Christie

7/15/2013

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My guest today is Steve Christie. Hello, Steve! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?
book cover image for Good Deed by Steve Christie depicting an close up shot of a chess piece on a chess board  

It's a crime thriller titled Good Deed. It was published at the end of last year. It introduces DI Ronnie Buchanan, an intelligent and astute man with a wry sense of humour. The story starts with a normal girl who made a bad choice, a stranger doing a good deed which he will regret and two inept, opportunistic thieves who steal something which they are ill equipped to handle. Add an upset crime lord, his unscrupulous fixer Vince, then sit back as the mind games begin, the twists unfold and enjoy a breathless tour around Scotland as DI Buchanan tries to solve the case.

It's available as an eBook on Kindle and Kobo and on paperback from Amazon. It is also available at The Book Depository, Ringwood Publishing and from all good UK Bookshops.


Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you?

The old adage "no good deed goes unpunished". Every now and again you'll either pick up the newspaper or watch the news and see some story where some Good Samaritan helps someone out of a sticky situation only for it to come back and, pardon the phrase, bite them on the arse.

LOL.  So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I've always fancied giving it a go. I used to write short stories for my kids when they were younger.  They seemed to enjoy them and now that they've grown up a bit, I thought I'd get my teeth stuck into something a bit more substantial.  So I wrote Good Deed, my first novel.

Do you have any favorite authors? 

Loads. Lee Child, Patricia Cornwell, Ian Rankin. I've recently been getting into George R.R. Martin. I'm currently reading through his A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

I work long hours, I seldom get home before eight p.m. each night, so I usually don't get around to my writing until about 10 p.m. Once my kids are settled down Ill put on some music, on my iPod of course, I don't want to waken any one up! Then I'll usually write for maybe about two or three hours. This, of course, means that I end up going to work the following morning looking like a crack addict! LOL.

*Laughs.* Oh, yes, I'm familiar with burning the midnight oil for a story.  

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers, Steve? Any advice?

Stick at the writing and learn to accept rejection and criticism. It comes with the territory.

Good advice.  So, inquiring minds want to know.  What are you currently working on?

I'm writing my second DI Buchanan novel Cold Shot. It's a dark tale of revenge set during a particularly nasty winter in Aberdeen.

Here is the blurb for Good Deed.

Good Deed is a fast paced crime novel that captures the reader from beginning to end.

Described by one reviewer as “Christopher Brookmyre on speed, with more thrills and less farce”, the gripping story of Good Deed rattles along relentlessly, leaving the reader breathless but enthralled. Good Deed introduces a new Scottish detective hero, DI Ronnie Buchanan, who is certain to quickly attract a legion of fans.

The events crammed into Good Deed take Buchanan from his base in Aberdeen on a frantic journey around all the major Scottish cities as his increasingly deadly pursuit of a mysterious criminal master mind known only as Vince comes to a breath-taking climax back in Aberdeen.

The pace of Good Deed is exceptional and unremitting. It is the kind of book that demands to be read in one sitting, but most readers will be so breathless as the saga unfolds without pause that they will need occasional rests before eagerly returning for more.

Here's an excerpt from Good Deed.

Lucy Kennedy pulled off the motorway following the road signs to the Road Chef restaurant just outside Dundee.

It was notoriously expensive but she had no choice, she was exhausted and in need of some caffeine.

She had made good time despite the earlier mishap with the flat tyre but thanks to a helpful stranger shed been back on the road in about ten minutes.

As she entered the restaurant, dazed from the long drive she failed to notice Mark and Liam sitting outside in their parked car but they noticed Lucy leaving hers and forgetting to lock up.

“Here we go,” said Liam. 

Mark and Liam were two habitual criminals who prowled the country seeking victims at roadside restaurants and other such places, they never failed to be amazed by the amount of road users who shattered from a long drive and in need of a coffee would stumble into these restaurants leaving their cars unlocked making their job so much more easier.

Once they had left their vehicle and entered the restaurant, Liam would pull alongside in his car giving Mark cover to rummage through the car to see what bounty awaited them.

On this particular day they struck gold.   

“Holy shit!” said Mark as he unzipped the tartan holdall lying in the back seat. What he'd found were two large packages of white powder well wrapped up in cling film, he knew they must contain a drug of some sort, smack, speed or coke it didn't really matter because judging by the quantity it would be worth a whole load of cash on the street. He took the packages out of the bag, zipped it back up and jumped into Liam's car “wait ' till you see what I've got here buddy” he showed Liam what he'd found.

“Check this, man, it's got to be worth a small fortune.”

“Jesus,” said Liam. “What’s a lassie like her doing carting all that shit about on her own?”

“No idea but it's our shit now, let's go.”

They pulled out of the car park, re-joined the motorway and drove off under the grey, cloud covered sky towards the centre of Dundee.

Lucy, totally unaware of what had just happened, carried her overpriced espresso to the nearest table, sat down and peeled open the small stick shaped packets of brown sugar, poured them into her cup and began to stir her coffee for an inordinate amount of time. She had things preying on her mind some bugging her more than others the main thing of course being how the hell she had gotten herself involved as a drug courier. It had started off small time, a block of weed here and there. Her flat mate Julie had convinced her it was easy money and right enough it did help supplement her meagre university grant, but then she'd got greedy, she took on bigger and bigger amounts, and now four kilos of coke.

She reminisced on how it had all started. It was a typical student's night out, a meal at the local curry house, followed by a pub crawl round Newington. They were a party of six, a strange mix of people, Lucy, her flatmate Julie, Deborah, a mature student big on size and personality, Joe and Eric two gay guys who shared a flat on the floor below and Eric, the cause of all Lucy's troubles.

Eric was a strange guy, the cool student that no one really knew much about, Jim Morrison reincarnated. He picked up the tab for everything, the meal, the drinks, even the taxi home.

She remembered thinking, Jesus this guy must have money coming out his ass, only later on that night back at her flat did she find out where this money came from.

“I deliver a few packages,” he told her as he skinned up a joint on one of Lucy's album covers, one of her favourites. “It’s easy money,” he said. "I could fix you up with the main man if you like".

And that was it, Lucy was in. No more shitty own brand label food from the local supermarket, no more eking out her meagre grant, life was looking up. Or so she thought.

Because of her straight looking plain appearance she was perfect for the task, .because she was so perfect she found herself getting all the bigger jobs. She was quite happy at first, let's face it bigger job bigger pay off. But then the paranoia set in, this couldn’t last; eventually she'd get caught. What would her family say? What if she ended up in jail? All that studying would have gone to waste.

Well, this would be the last, she wanted out and she'd tell them today as soon as she dropped off the package but she’d have to be careful how she went about it, it wasn't like packing in any normal job, a quick goodbye, a few drinks at the end of the last day and then you're off, these guys were scary so she would have to be tactful.

She bought another coffee to go, got her car keys out of her bag and returned to her car to complete the journey.

When she got to her car her heart skipped a beat, shit!, it's unlocked, panicking she looked in the back seat, the holdall was still there, she caught her breath, tried to calm down a bit and got in her car and headed on her way.

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/bMwN6A

 

Author Bio

picture of author Steve Christie

A Real Ale Loving Scottish Crime Writer. Originally from Aberdeen, now residing in Edinburgh. This is my first novel, available October. Im currently working on my second novel featuring Ronnie Buchanan, working title Cold Shot.

Links:

Find out more...http://about.me/stevechristieauthor

Check out the video on Youtube!  http://youtu.be/nRjrh74zDXE

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/steve.christie.167?fref=ts
Twitter:  @schristieauthor
LinkedIn:  http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=143876790&locale=en_US&trk=tyah
Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6458799.Steve_Christie


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Interview with Author Susan Mac Nicol

7/8/2013

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My guest today is Susan Mac Nicol. Hello, Susan! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?
  
book cover for Together in Starlight by Susan Mac Nicol depicting a mysterious handsome man staring straight at his audience

My latest publication is called Together in Starlight. It’s the second in my Starlight trilogy. It came out in February this year. 

Together in Starlight continues the story of Bennett Saville, an actor living in London with his fiancée, Cassie Wallace, a woman who’s ten years older than him. They met each other through fairly tragic circumstances in the first book, Cassandra by Starlight. After a rather tumultuous beginning, they’re still together. 

Bennett is on the road to stardom, being catapulted to fame through his theatre work in London and his current project as the leading man in a remake of ‘Lost Horizon’. Cassie is an astute business woman, who provides the love and support her lover needs in the crazy world of show business. She tends to put the brakes on him when he gets all ‘prima donna’ which is pretty often.

This couple get embroiled in any kind of trouble you can think of, I have to say. From suicides of jumping off motorway bridges, to schizophrenic mothers and psychotic stalkers, ex-husbands with a grudge and supernatural happenings, Cassie and Bennett are in the thick of it. They have a tendency to attract kooks and trouble in equal measures.

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you?

The series as a whole was prompted by two things. One was an incident in my home town of Essex, when some idiot threw a concrete bucket from a foot bridge onto the motorway and badly injured the woman driving under the bridge at the time. The other was the presence of a rather wonderful actor here in the UK called Benedict Cumberbatch, who I love, and he just had to be the role model for the character of Bennett Saville. I am what is known in the ‘Cumber’ trade as a ‘CumberCougar’ and I follow this young actor’s career with interest and more than a few drools down my chin. I’ve never fangirled before. This whole obsession with an actor thing is very new to me.

Once I had my very own virtual Benedict Cumberbatch in the form of Bennett, and had a writer’s privilege to do absolutely anything I wanted with him, I began writing the story. Of course, the fact that Cassie is my own age has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I promise. Honest. I was not sitting there writing steamy sex scenes, thinking of….well, you know.

So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I’ve always written. Songs, poetry and novels. I have some poetry published on etherbooks and of course I have two full length novels and two short stories already published with my publisher, Boroughs Publishing Group. 

(*Gives a wry grin*) It appears that once I started I wasn’t able to stop.  I’ve now written nine full length novels, three of which are in the pipeline and contracted to Boroughs, awaiting publication. The other four are all completed, just waiting for an available slot to thrust at my poor editor and say , "Here, Jill, want another one?" I love to see her squirm…

I’ve also written a screen play based on my debut novel, Cassandra by Starlight, which I’d like to show around and see if I can stir some interest in making a TV series. But that’s a little ways away at the moment

Do you have any favorite authors? 

I do. My favourite author is Stephen King, creator of the slavering beast, Cujo and the psychotic, child eating clown, Pennywise. I love the way he writes, his characters and his descriptive scenes. I’m also a huge Jonathan Kellerman fan, and love his ‘Alex Delaware’ novels. But I’m also an avid reader of gay male romances and soak them up like the proverbial sponge. I have a lot of favourite authors in this genre and it’s really hard to pick one as being the top one for me. But if I did, it would be the amazing Josh Lanyon. He writes stories that make you feel the characters are real, interspersed with a lot of witty humour and I love that in a book. Kindle Alexander is another one of my absolute ‘must haves’. Along with A. J. Rose, L A. Witt, Sue Brown, Sage Marlowe, Rory Ni Colleain, Harper Fox, Susan Laine, Barbara Elsborg -the list goes on. (If I didn’t mention one of you, sorry, rest assured you are all still loved. I just ran out of breath.)

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

Hmm. I thrive on chaos when I write. So where better than to sit than in the corner of the couch in the lounge, with husband, daughter, son and dog constantly on the move, asking me questions I don’t hear because - honestly? I’m not bloody listening – and hearing the blare of the television, the echo of my daughter’s Walkman or whatever it is she’s got, and the panting of the dog as he’s just come from a walk and is knackered. Oh yes, it’s just as well I like chaos in my house. I have a study, but if I went up there, my family would never see me.

I have a full time day job in the lovely city of Cambridge. So I get home about six p.m., eat the food someone has prepared (I don’t cook much – luckily my family enjoy it but it’s not of my favourite things to do unless it’s heating up a microwave dinner). I then sit down, laptop on lap, and write until midnight, one am. Then it’s up as six a.m. to start the day again. This, ladies and gentlemen, is my life. I do love it, but I’d rather not have the day job, be in the country somewhere in my country manor, gazing out over the grounds while the handsome groundsman walks bare chested across the field with his gun.

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers. Any advice?

I belong to a writing circle and one of my buddies has this plastered across the top of his blog. “Writers write. The rest make excuses.” It’s sort of become our circle mantra. The best thing you can do as a writer is put the words down. Don’t wait for a good time, till the baby’s stopped teething, till the kids have left the house, the robins have roosted or the cake has baked. Just sit down, arse to chair and either pick up a pencil or pen and write on paper, or type onto a computer. But don’t procrastinate.

The other thing I’d strongly advise is start getting ready to be a guru of social networking. If you think your book is going to be published and the publisher is going to do everything for you – think again. Authors nowadays have a huge responsibility to market themselves and their skills themselves. An author needs to learn the skills of promotion and there’s no time to start building that ‘author community’ like the present. 

Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Amazon, Shelfari, Goodreads, tumblr, Wordpress, LinkedIn, Google+, Instagram, Flickr, Soundcloud, Vimeo, YouTube –the list goes on. A personal website is a good choice and, of course, a blog.

I run seven Facebook accounts for role playing activities with my characters. I have nine Twitter accounts, ten Gmail addresses and heaven knows what else.  I am constantly trying to remember who I actually am. I also administer three Facebook pages. So it’s an intensive, hands on job but it has to be done.

The writing, dear writers, is the easy bit. The work comes after that first book has been signed for. You may as well get a head start now.

Here is the blurb for Together in Starlight.

For superstar actor Bennett Saville and his fiancée Cassandra Wallace, returning to “The Val” theatre in London means greed, lust, and ghosts from the past—and that’s off stage.

Bennett Saville is sexy. At the height of his career, the English star of stage and screen is everything a woman might desire, as fiancée Cassandra Wallace well knows. They’ve seen the world together, from L.A. to Shangri La. Yet shadows persist, even in the spotlight. At home they face lust, greed, and ghosts from their pasts—and that’s offstage. There is also “The Val”. Bennett’s aged London theatre holds a mystery four centuries old, cast in starlight, waiting to be shown. Intensely personal, impossibly passionate, that play must go on…and Cassie and Bennett must see it through together.

Here's an excerpt from Together in Starlight.

Bennett Saville stood at the window of his hotel room looking out over the Hengduan Mountains surrounding the mystical town of Shangri-La in Tibet. He’d been there nearly six weeks now filming his new movie, and had yet to tire of the view of the valley and the towering mountains that seemed to surround the hotel like a massive rock shield. The October sun shone down on the valley and the green fields surrounding the hotel.

Across the river in the distance he could see the small figures of farmers as they went about their business. Small white forms of sheep were speckled like popcorn about the grassy hills. He sighed, stretching his lanky frame, wincing as his muscles protested against the activity.

The day’s filming had taken its toll on him, not least of which was his backside from sitting on a mule most of the day. The mule had not particularly taken to him. He supposed wryly that when two immoveable and stubborn objects met there was bound to be some friction. He turned as someone swore behind him, and saw his fiancée, Cassie Wallace, struggling under the weight of her now packed suitcase as she manoeuvred it off the bed. She strained to pull the suitcase over to the door where it would wait to be taken down by the hotel porters in the morning.

He observed her with raised eyebrows. Despite his suggestion that she get a suitcase with wheels, she’d insisted on taking her tried and trusted old green one—the one with no wheels and which in itself was a fair weight even without the mountain of clothes inside it.

Cassie muttered as she gave the case one final kick in annoyance and looked up at him.

Her eyes challenged him to say something, anything. He turned away with a hidden smile.

She flopped down onto the bed and groaned. “I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow.”

She opened her arms and spread them out behind her, her T–shirt straining at the move and showing the generous curves beneath. Seeing Bennett’s predatory look, she hastily sat up again in case he had any ideas about pouncing on her. They were due downstairs for their last lunch together with the rest of the cast and crew in about five minutes.

“I thought you were looking forward to getting home?” Bennett said. “You’ve been itching to get back to business. That phone of yours hasn’t stopped since we left London.”

He sat down on the bed beside her, his green eyes observing her, admiring her tanned skin from the sunshine of the Tibetan summer and the small freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose. Her strawberry-blond hair, worn long but now even longer past her shoulders, had streaks of gold where the sun had bleached it.

All in all, he thought the six-week holiday she’d had whilst he was filming had done her good. After the events of the last twenty-one months together, it was good to see her looking so perky, healthy and downright sexy.

She nodded. “I know. I am. It’s just that it’s so peaceful here. I know you’ve been filming but I’ve never seen you look so relaxed either. This trip has been good for both of us.”

He regarded her ruefully. “What with all the past events, you and your car accident, Eric’s death, Mum’s psychotic episode and you landing up in hospital again and that bloody Laura woman stalking me, I’m surprised we’re not both basket cases.”

She sighed. “I can’t believe our Tibet trip is nearly over. I know when you get back you’ll be busy filming in the London studios—Waverly is it?”

Bennett nodded. “It’s a huge and very sophisticated studio in Chalk Farm. It’ll be great seeing how the rest of the film comes together there.”

“Perhaps, Bennett, when we get home, I might be able to convince you not to fall asleep with such regularity at your desk,” Cassie said drily.

He grinned. Whilst he’d been in Tibet, many were the nights he’d fallen asleep in front of his laptop, his script open, various research websites being bookmarked and copious notes in his untidy, almost illegible scrawl in the margins of his script. He knew it drove Cassie to distraction.

“You know me, Cass. I’m a little obsessive.”

Cassie stared at him in amusement. “A little? Bennett, you disappear in the middle of the night to God knows where, for hours on end, stalking about, talking to yourself and looking like a crazy person.”

He smiled, knowing this to be true.

Cassie continued her diatribe. “You wander up into the mountains, down by the river and I never quite know where I’m going to find you or when you’ll be back. It can be quite dangerous out there.”

He shrugged. “When the muse is on me, Cass, I can’t help it. I need to get things perfect or it doesn’t work for me.”

“That’s all well and good, sweetheart, but if you hadn’t noticed, ignoring me doesn’t make me go away. And you can be such an autocrat. It’s your way or no way.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “An autocrat? Cassie, that’s a bit cruel.”

Bennett grinned at the exasperated face of his fiancée. “I guess we should be getting downstairs for lunch. I was planning on an afternoon siesta with you but judging from the sound your stomach is making, I imagine you’re hungry again. I can’t make love to a starving woman. It’s too distracting.”

He stood up and reached out a hand to her. She took it as she stood up and they
walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Downstairs in the outside courtyard the lunch buffet was in full swing. The full cast and crew of Lost Horizon were helping themselves to a spread of both Chinese and Tibetan local fare including roasted yak which Cassie hadn’t wanted to try. Bennett found it delicious. But despite that, Cassie refused to taste it. He acknowledged that neither of them had developed the taste for the local butter tea.

Mingmei Cheng, Bennett’s co-star and love interest in the film, smiled when she saw them, wandering over to join them. She was stunningly beautiful, a slim exotic Mandarin woman with long black hair and small hands that waved like butterflies when she talked. Bennett was well aware that the one part about the making of the film Cassie couldn’t get used to was the on-camera love scenes and intimate moments between him and Mingmei. Although the film’s director, John Lammington, managed them tastefully and there was only what was needed on show, nothing gratuitous, he knew she still couldn’t bear to watch Bennett and Mingmei together in that way.

“Most of the time you’re half naked,” she’d grumbled when they’d talked about it recently.

He’d smiled at her discomfort. “Cassie, mostly I have my shirt off. My pants and everything else are still on for most of the scenes. And when they’re not, well, there’s not really any contact. Honest.”

She’d scowled. “Well, I still don’t like watching it. Mingmei is so beautiful and tiny and it just looks wrong when she has her hands all over your bare chest. Sometimes I want to scratch her porcelain face. That makes me a really bad person, Bennett.”

It hadn’t helped that he’d chuckled loudly at her comments. “You jealous harpy. You know I’m acting. I promise.”

Seeing them now, Mingmei smiled at them sweetly. “Bennett, Cassie,” she said softly in her lilting dialect. “I’m glad you decided to join us. I thought perhaps you might be having a siesta.” She smiled slyly.

Bennett smiled, watching Cassie’s face flush instantly. He did tend to have a proclivity towards afternoon ‘siestas’ with her when he could get them and it appeared the whole
crew knew about them.

“No, we were hungry and looking forward to lunch. I shall miss all of this when we get home.” Cassie waved a hand around at the tables laden with food.

Bennett looked at her with raised eyebrows. “The way you’ve been eating whilst we’ve been here I shall have to employ you your very own chef when we get home to keep you stocked up on Kung Pao chicken and roast pig.”

He frowned worriedly. “Actually, thinking about it, I think we should call the airport and pay to increase our baggage allowance. We might need to offset it against the extra weight in the plane when you get in.”

Cassie punched him hard in the arm making sure her knuckle was extended. He yelped and rubbed his arm but the smile didn’t leave his face. Mingmei watched on with amusement.

“You bastard!” Cassie hissed. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

Bennett realised he’d perhaps overstepped the boundary. Cassie was sensitive about the fact that she was older than him and always told him she had to work harder to keep her figure in shape. He loved it just the way it was.

He pulled her close, planting a kiss on top of her head. “You look wonderful to me, Cassie, just the way you are. I love your curves.”

She wasn’t mollified by his words, glaring at him fiercely. She was stopped from responding as John Lammington came up and slapped Bennett on the back.

“Bennett! Glad you could join us. We thought you’d gone for a lie down. I thought you might have been a bit stiff after riding that crazy animal this morning.” 

He winked at Cassie who felt her face blush red. The double entendre was not lost on anyone. Mingmei looked down, smiling.

Bennett chuckled softly as Cassie went even redder. “No, no siesta. The woman needed feeding again.”

He made sure to stay out of the way of Cassie’s fist as he wandered over to the table to pile a plate with food. Cassie muttered a rude but very audible swear word at him under her breath, making sure she piled her plate high. She sat next to Bennett at the long communal table. He was amused at her defiant stand.

“So, Bennett. Looking forward to getting back to London and the dreary October weather?” John took a swig of the local Lhasa beer he was partial to.

Bennett shrugged. “I’ve enjoyed it here. It’s been an incredible experience. But Dylan is chomping at the bit to get his latest production up and running. He opens in December and needs some help. So I’ll be giving him a hand at the Val in between filming the rest of Lost.” He looked at John wryly. “Assuming I have any free time at all, that is. You can be a real slave driver.”

The Val as it was lovingly known, real name the Valedictorian, was the theatre that Bennett, Cassie and Dylan owned in London. Dylan Donahue was Bennett’s best friend and business partner, and Bennett had given Cassie thirty-five percent of his shares when they got engaged last year. He’d thought it the perfect engagement gift. He knew she loved the ambience, the quirkiness, camaraderie and drama that went on there.

John chuckled. “Now, Bennett. That coming from one perfectionist to another.” John helped himself to another beer. “Isn’t Dylan’s play some sort of musical about some Australian lady gang?”

Bennett nodded. “It’s about the Razor Gang wars in the mid-1920s in Sydney. He’s done a hell of a job in getting something like that into a musical, but I think it works.”

John grinned. “I understand you aren’t contributing to the stage show. Not your ‘cup of tea’.” He mocked Bennett’s accent.

Bennett shook his head ruefully. “I’m not fond of singing in public and I’m not the greatest dancer. I’ll stick with drama rather than make a fool of myself trying to belt out a tune.”

“I can vouch for that statement,” muttered Cassie. Bennett saw she was still unforgiving about the weight comment. “Bennett has a tendency to be very noisy when he’s trying to sing Pavarotti in the shower.”

“But I do have other talents you like in the shower, sweetheart.” Bennett regarded her lazily, not wanting to be outdone. He sniggered as Cassie once again blushed pink.

John gave a great laugh. “You two really keep us all amused with your bickering, you know that? It’s been like having two teenagers on set.”

He stood up. “Well, packing beckons. I still have a ton of things to sort out before we leave tomorrow afternoon.” He looked gloomy. “I suppose we’ll be taking that dodgy tour bus to the local airport and then flying to Lhasa Airport for the flight home. It’s going to be a long couple of days to get home.”

John hadn’t enjoyed the bus ride to the hotel, having white-knuckled it all the way due to the driver’s fairly erratic driving narrowly missing the long drops over the side of the mountains. He sighed. “See you kids later.”

Bennett sat back in his chair, closing his eyes, enjoying the rays of the sun on his face. Hearing a little voice beside him, he opened his eyes to see little Soong Li, the daughter of one of the hotel managers, smiling shyly at Cassie as she held out a small carved wooden bird.

Cassie smiled at her as she sat up. “Hello Soong Li. This is beautiful. Is it for me?”

She leaned over and took the small bird gently from the child’s outstretched hand. “Did you make this yourself?”

The little girl nodded. “I want you to take it back home with you,” she said in slightly broken English. “To remind you of me and Shangri-La.”

Cassie often took the child on her travels with her, mule riding, climbing the nearby mountains and wading down in the river collecting any item of interest the pair could find. The little girl had taken a shine to Cassie and was constantly fascinated by the colour of her hair and the freckles appearing on her face.

Bennett watched the two together now, seeming so comfortable with each other. Cassie couldn’t have any children of her own. She’d been unable to do so even before his mother had attacked Cassie one evening and injured her so badly that it had simply cemented the fact that Cassie would never be a mother.

The closest they’d get would be Bennett’s five-year-old nephew, Sean, who lived with Bennett’s father at the family home. Bennett and Cassie enjoyed taking him out occasionally but were always glad to see him home to Edward’s.

Cassie hugged the child and Soong Li ran off to join her friends playing nearby. She looked over at Bennett, smiling. “If you’re finished stuffing your face, I suppose we could go for a walk down by the river. It’ll be the last chance we get.”

He extended his arm to her and they walked out of the hotel courtyard into the dusty road leading down to the river. It was quiet, the clouds settling low upon the horizon and the warm breeze slightly unsettling Cassie’s hair, causing it to blow across her face.

She brushed it back absentmindedly as she walked. “Have you spoken to Sean recently?”

Bennett was in the habit of calling his nephew with an update on how many yaks he had seen, what the stupid mule had done next and generally painting a vivid picture for the child of what it was like to be in Shangri-La.

Bennett nodded. “I spoke to him last night. Apparently he’d had a bad day at school, some kid pinched his lunch and when Sean found out, he punched him in the nose. Mary had to go down to the school and placate them.” He grinned. “I’d say he’s definitely a Saville.”

Cassie kissed him affectionately on the chin. “Given his uncle’s temper, it sounds like the fruit hasn’t fallen far from the tree albeit a little removed.”

Bennett’s temper was legendary, something he sometimes struggled to control. The last year had certainly tested this to the limit. More than once Cassie had found herself having to defuse him.

They’d reached the river now, sitting down on the grassy bank, taking off their shoes and planting their feet in the cool running water.

“Did you ever think we’d be where we are now?” asked Bennett suddenly. “I mean sitting here together in Shangri-La in Tibet. Sometimes it all seems rather surreal.” He glanced at Cassie as she watched the water run over her feet.

“You know I believe things happen for a reason,” she said slowly. “Everything has a purpose. I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing now than sitting here with you in this magical place. January last year I was just plain Cassie Wallace. Now I’m Cassie Wallace, engaged to a young, filthy rich, sexy man in her bed. Who could possibly have seen that coming?”

She leaned over and kissed him. He pulled her towards him and the kiss grew deeper and more intense. Bennett wound his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer, enjoying the feel of her warm body and the sunshine on his back. After a few hot and heavy moments they pulled apart.

“I think it’s time for that siesta,” Cassie said huskily, running her fingers down his chest, pausing on his flat stomach and slipping her hands under his loose shirt.

He drew a breath as her hands found the warm skin beneath. “I certainly don’t think we should carry on here, we have an audience,” he murmured, kissing her ear, his tongue darting in and out causing her to shiver.

Cassie looked up in panic and Bennett chuckled. “There’s no one watching, Cassie. I mean that lot over there.” He pointed to where half a dozen curious yaks were congregating by the river bank, observing them through large brown eyes. Cassie giggled when she saw them.

“Whilst I could quite gladly ravish you here and now, I don’t relish the thought of doing so with them watching me. I don’t like competition.” Bennett stood up, picking up his shoes.

Cassie did the same and together they walked back up to the hotel. The lobby was fairly quiet. Everyone was probably in their rooms packing for tomorrow’s early get away. Their hotel room was cool and the breeze wafted in through the open windows. No sooner had they closed the door than Bennett pulled Cassie towards him, his mouth finding hers again, his tongue running its way across her top lip and finally finding its way into her mouth.

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/mB2vEM

 

Author Bio  

  picture of author Susan Mac Nicol

Sue Mac Nicol was born in Leeds, Yorkshire, in the United Kingdom. At the age of eight, her family moved to Johannesburg, South Africa where she stayed for nearly thirty years before arriving back in the UK in December 2000.

Sue works full time in the field of regulatory compliance for a company in the financial services industry in Cambridge. But she still finds time to work until the small hours of the morning doing what she loves best – writing. Since her first novel, Cassandra by Starlight, was penned, Sue has written the other two books in her Starlight trilogy, six other novels, two short stories and a screen play based on Cassandra. Her passion is keeping herself busy creating worlds and characters for her readers to enjoy.

Sue is a member of Romance Writers of America and Romantic Novelists Association in the UK. She is also a member of a rather unique writing group, called the Talliston Writer’s Circle, which in itself has a story all of its own to tell and lives in the rural village of Bocking, in Essex, with her family.

Her plan is to keep writing as long as her muse sits upon her shoulder. Her dream is to one day get that big old house in the English countryside overlooking a river, where she can write all day and continue to indulge her passion for telling stories.

Website - www.susanmacnicol.com

Twitter - @SusanMacnicol7

Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/susiemax77

Blog -  http://susanmacnicol.wordpress.com/

 

The Whole 'Starlight Series': 

book cover image for Cassandra by Starlight by Susan Mac Nicol depicting an elegant man and woman standing together but she is turned away

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/braXKY

cover image for Together in Starlight

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/mB2vEM

book cover image for Forever in Starlight by Susan Mac Nicol depicting a couple standing with a starry background this is the final book of the trilogy

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/mZrEnB

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age blog article here.

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Interview with Author Rebecca L. Frencl

7/1/2013

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My guest today is Rebecca Frencl. Hello, Rebecca! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here again.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?

book cover for Ribbons of Moonlight by Rebecca L. Frencl depicting a dark haired young woman in a fancy dress turned away looking at a mysterious ray of light in the middle of the forest

RIBBONS OF MOONLIGHT was released by Solstice on February 13, 2011. I thought it was pretty appropriate that a romance novel came out the day before Valentine's Day.  

Ribbons of Moonlight won the Best Romance 2012 contest after the first of the year! It's a time travel romance--Emma goes back in time to 1773 while on holiday in England for her friend's period wedding. Her coach is robbed by the highwayman who turns out to be much more than she ever expected. Connor drags her out of the coach and into his world turning her heart upside down. The red coats are on his tail and while he has a secret ally, there is also a traitor in their midst. This all seems so familiar to Emma. Can she figure it out and help save Connor while keeping her heart intact? 

RIBBONS OF MOONLIGHT is available in both ebook and print versions at the Solstice website, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords.

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you?

This book was actually inspired by one of my favorite narrative poems "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. It was a challenge to write a book based on a tragic poem while keeping true to the heart of the poem, but not having the book have such a dismal ending! 

Great! So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I think I've always written. I remember my favorite toy as a kid was a typewriter my mom and dad gave me for Christmas. I used to write plays for my cousins. I think I wrote my first "book" in 7th grade and I haven't looked back since then. Though, I have expanded my horizons. While, fantasy is still my first love, I've also really learned to love romance, mystery and paranormal as well. 

Do you have any favorite authors? 

Wow. Too many. It also depends on the genre. In fantasy, I love David Eddings and Mercedes Lackey. Though in young adult, I am a sucker for Rick Riordan and Veronica Rossi. I adore Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody mysteries and Lynn Kurland's time travel romances. Diana Gabaldon and Robin McKinley will always have a special place in my heart for their inspiration. 

Do you write in a specific place?  Time of day?

I write wherever and whenever I get the chance. On the couch, at my desk, on a park bench--between meetings, during a test the kids are taking, while my little girl is swinging from the monkey bars. My life is a little crazed so I snatch the time when I can. 

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers. Any advice?

Don't write what you know--write what you love and keep writing. Perseverance is the secret in this business. There's a quote I recently found that really speaks to me, "If it's important you'll find a way. If it's not--you'll find an excuse."

Don't find an excuse. Find a way.  

Here is the blurb for Ribbons of Moonlight.

Emma Sanders:

She’s a damsel in distress—a 20th century miss dragged back to the 18th with no way home and no idea how she got there in the first place.

Connor MacAllister Kane:

He’s the reason she’s in distress--a British highwayman, and a minor noble with not much more to his name than a title and a Robin Hood-like charm who robs the wrong coach.

Now, Captain Nelson Rawlins of His Majesty’s Royal Dragoons, a former childhood friend of Connor’s who sacrificed friendship for duty is on the hunt for the Highwayman and traitors to the crown. The longer Emma stays in Connor’s time, the more she’s drawn to him and drawn into his troubles. She and Connor find themselves struggling to stay one step ahead of the Captain and his corrupt Commander and keep Connor and his roguish cousins from the hangman’s noose. As the Commander’s grip on the countryside tightens, the people need Connor even more, but Rawlins is hot on his trail and there’s a traitor in their midst. Can Emma use her twentieth century wits to keep both Connor and her heart safe?

Here's an excerpt from Ribbons of Moonlight.

 

 

Chapter One

 

She looks so beautiful. 

That’s all Emma could think as she watched her oldest friend in the whole world dance in the arms of the man who loved her. 

With a sigh, Emma touched her champagne glass to her lips. The bubbles burst across her tongue and burned down her throat.  

“Well, Chelle,” she whispered, “we’ve come a long way since our days in the ‘burbs. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.” She raised her glass to her friend then turned out of the terrace doors leaving William’s strains of the love theme from The Highwayman behind her.

            A cool breeze caressed her skin shifting the ruffles at her neckline and elbows. Emma took a deep breath. The perfume of the Old English roses and night-blooming jasmine smelled as sweet as the wine in her glass. She paced the weathered granite walk, heels catching a little on the weather roughened stones, and braced her arms on the balcony rail to look over the amazing Kircaldy Manor gardens. She leaned over the glass-smooth balustrade and brushed her fingers against the climbing red roses. Petals cascaded and their perfume rose. The guidebook in her guest room back at the inn told her that Kircaldy was one of oldest gardens in this area, dating back to the 1600’s. The tangled roses and curved white stone walks glimmered in the bright starlight. Emma leaned back and tipped her face to the sky. You couldn’t see this many stars in Chicago. The moon looked closer too; huge and swollen with only a thread of cloud across its face. 

Clematis vines crawled up the railings. Delicately closed candy-striped blooms brushed her knuckles. A gentle breeze ruffled the blossoming cherry tree to her right, stirring the stems of the strawflowers. 

            The music behind her changed, shifted from the love theme into a pulsing dance beat that made her rib cage thrum. Glancing over her shoulder back into the ballroom, she watched her friend reach out a hand to Tom Cruise, accepting his congratulations on her wedding. Emma shook her head in amazement with a smile. Yes, Michaela Evers, star of the sleepy summer hit The Highwayman, had definitely come a long way from the small Chicago suburb she’d shared with school librarian Emma Sanders. I don’t think I’ll ever really get used to rubbing elbows with the stars, Emma mused. 

            The bride’s dress whispered silk over silk as she stepped through the terrace doors. “Emma, dear, what in heaven’s name are you doing out here?”

             A seed pearl crown glinted amid the elaborate twists of Michaela’s long blond tresses. The filmy veil was pushed away from her face to pour in a shimmering wave to her hips. Moonlight danced on the diamonds around Michaela’s throat.

            Emma smiled and traced a finger over the tanzanite star hanging from a white gold chain around her throat. Michaela had given it to her as a bridesmaid’s gift just the day before. Emma had tried to tell Michaela that the suite of necklace and earrings had been far too expensive, but she should have learned long ago that when Michaela set her mind to something, she always won.

            “Good lord, Em, you’re missing all the dancing.” 

Michaela latched onto Emma’s arm and pulled her back into the twinkling lights of the Kircaldy Grand Ballroom. Michaela linked an arm through Emma’s and smiled at Megan Daly, star from TV’s Through the Sands of Time, as they passed. 

“Lovely lady,” Michaela muttered. “Too bad she’s stuck on that trashy soap.” 

            “If I recall, a certain star started on a trashy soap. Night Heart wasn’t exactly classic cinema,” Emma replied and set her empty champagne glass on a tray borne by a butler in gleaming black tie and tux.

            Michaela laughed, snagging two canapés from another tray. She handed one to Emma and nibbled on the other. “Oh, Em, you’re the one thing I really miss since I moved to California.”

Emma sniffed at the fancy swirl of pink and white cream on what she thought was a cracker. It smelled fishy. “Well, Chelle, I miss you too.” She stuffed the concoction in her mouth and rolled her eyes in bliss. Whatever it was, it was really good. She looked around for that tray-wielding waiter. 

“Then move to California, Emma.” Michaela’s hand tightened on Emma’s arm. “I worry about you all alone in Chicago.”

Emma swallowed and patted her friend’s hand. Her gaze followed Lester Brym and Alan Saddler as the two muscle men made their way to the bar. “I’m not moving to California, Chelle, and I’m hardly alone.” She pulled her gaze from the action stars to smile at her oldest friend. “I have Alfred.”

Michaela snorted. “That stupid parrot is older than you are.”

“Yes, but he keeps me company and besides, I like living in Chicago.” 

Kim Pierce, the fashion editor of Delirious swooped in to step between the two women. She looked over both Emma’s and Michaela’s period gowns.

“Lovely, just lovely,” Kim murmured. She smoothed her short ebony swing of hair back behind her ears. “A word with you, Miss Evers, or should I be calling you Mrs. Kalver now?” She chuckled and dug into her palm-sized bag pulling out a small notebook. “I’d like to have a word with you about scheduling an interview with you and the designer?” 

“Oh, Em, will you excuse me?” With an apologetic glance, Michaela walked away, smoothing down her embroidered silk gown. 

Emma watched her friend wander off, chattering excitedly to Pierce about the young designer who’d designed all her gowns. Emma brushed a hand over the pale blue silk skirt of the gown Michaela had especially designed for her as maid of honor. It was lovely. A pale blue bodice laced up the front, embroidery and touches of lace at elbow and neckline—just enough to give it a delicate feminine look. The skirt was full and heavy, the type she’d have loved at ten, perfect for spinning around and around.

Emma laughed at herself and leaned against one of the huge marble pillars that supported the carved vaulted ceiling of the great hall. With the cool marble at her back, she watched the revelers whirl by. Candlelight glowed from the wall sconces, bathing everything in a shimmering, shifting light. Shadows wove around the columns and the dancers in the uncertain illumination.

Many of the guests had loved Michaela’s idea of a period wedding and dressed for the occasion. Some wore silks and satins, others muslin, and tartan. 

Emma turned away from the dance floor. She didn’t belong here. She knew that. This glittering world wasn’t hers. It was Michaela’s and she’d never be comfortable there. 

The first time she’d visited Michaela in L.A., Michaela had dragged her to every Hollywood hotspot she could find. 

“I think she was hoping I’d snag a star,” Emma murmured to herself and then shook her head. No Hollywood heartthrob would look twice at a librarian from Chicago.

She pushed away from the column, making her way toward the main doors. Now free of Kim Pierce, Michaela was fully engaged in talking to Luke and Kyle Tredari. Michaela wouldn’t notice if Emma slipped away a little early.

As she approached the doors, the Kircaldy hostess slid out of the office near the doorway. The small woman wore a trim tailored suit in cherry red. Emma looked at it with a little bit of envy wishing she had the courage to buy something bold like that.

“May I help you, madam?” the hostess asked.

“I’d like a ride back to the inn, if you wouldn’t mind calling one of the carriages?” 

Emma rubbed her temples.  It was only ten or so and she was already exhausted. A bath and book in her charming and comfy room sounded so good right now. 

“Of course, Ms. Sanders.” The hostess ducked out the door and very shortly one of the carriages rumbled up to the marble steps. 

Emma felt like a queen, letting the coachman help her into the leather cab of the carriage. Another one of Michaela’s brainstorms was to have all the bridesmaids and guests taken from the church to the hall in coaches—the exact type the highwaymen would rob. 

Emma settled back in the seat. The carriage took off with a jolt, but soon settled into a rocking motion. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the squeak of the carriage rigging were very soothing. The tight knots of tension at her temples began to unravel. She pushed aside the leather curtain and looked out the narrow window. 

The moon bathed the private country road in sliver moonlight. The road stretched like a white ribbon winding through the trees that, according to her guidebook, were over four hundred years old. The night was still and quiet, the only sounds the jingle and clop of the carriage rigging and the horses’ hooves. Not even a breeze whispered through the trees at the road side. 

Emma let the curtain fall back into place. It would be about a half hour or more before they reached the little period inn. She slipped off her shoes and snuggled on the seat, her head pillowed on her hands. The gentle swaying of the cab lulled her. Quiet, alone, safe, she felt her eyes drift shut. With a sleepy little sigh she gave in. 

The carriage jolted to a halt. Emma slid neatly from the leather seat and onto the hard floor of the carriage. Silk and leather obviously weren’t good bed fellows. Her skirt pooled around her. 

“What in heaven’s name?” she muttered. 

With less grace than a baby giraffe she scrambled from the floor and smoothed her skirts back into place Carefully, she dropped to the seat again. 

With a frown, she reached for the door handle intending to ask the driver what in God’s name was going on. It disappeared under her hand, whipped open from the outside. 

“Just lovely,” the man towering in the doorway muttered. He was a dark shadow highlighted only by slashes of moonlight. When he smiled, a beam of moonlight showed missing teeth. Emma’s eyes widened, her heart leaping painfully in her chest. With her hands fisted in her skirt, heart pounding she first heard the voices murmuring outside the cab.

Good lord, she thought a shiver skating up her spine, how many of them are there? 

 

Chapter Two

 

Emma pressed her back against the leather seat of the carriage and stared at the man, her mouth slightly ajar. She didn’t recognize him as a guest from the wedding. He was tall with dark messy hair and a toothless grin she didn’t like at all. 

She swallowed hard and pressed a hand to her throat. Should she scream? What if Michaela had organized the entire scenario and she spoiled the fun by trying to kill the poor actor in front of her? 

“Who are you?” Her voice trembled far more than she anticipated.

“Good idea, luv, why don’t we get to know each other a little better?” he asked levering himself into the carriage. His hair was matted and the stench of horse and sour sweat filled the cab. He licked his lips as he reached for her neckline. A beam of moonlight showed her his grime encrusted nails and hairy knuckles. “Pretty little bauble, that.” She could feel her skin crawl at the thought of that filthy hand touching her. She clutched the necklace he was admiring and shrank back further. 

Emma brought both feet up to chest level, startling the man with a look under her skirt, and kicked. Both feet punched him hard in the chest. Words Emma could barely understand pierced the night as he lurched backward from the carriage to land on the road, arms and legs sprawled.

Quickly, Emma repositioned herself on the seat, back pressed against the opposite door, ready for another attack. Whoever these people were, she wouldn’t let them take her easily. Ugly laughter, both sadistic and frightening, increased the tremble in her hands.

“She’s a lively ‘un. I’m gunna enjoy this.”

Male laughter poured through the door, followed by insults she would rather not hear. 

Good lord, there must be at least five of them. Emma scrambled for her shoes and slipped the two-inch heels on. If she’d had them on when she’d kicked, the man would be gone for good. She wedged herself in the corner of the carriage and drew up her feet, ready to kick out again. She gripped the seat leather with clammy hands, her gaze intent on the swinging door.

Where was the driver? Where the hell were the cops? 

The door at her back whipped open. Emma tumbled out of the carriage in a froth of pale blue skirts. Startled, she screamed and braced herself for her collision with the road. Hands hooked under her arms, stopping her from a painful crash. 

Well and truly over her fright, she kicked and punched, trying to remember every dirty trick she’d been taught about self-defense. The man stumbled. Triumphant, she leaned into him. If he fell he’d let her go. 

“Spirited little dabchick, eh?” 

I’ll show you spirited! Emma skinned her heel down her assailant’s shin.The arms around her tightened. 

“Bloody hell!” he yelled and lifted her right off her feet.

“Let me go!” Emma twisted against the arms that held hers pinned to her sides. “Just wait until the cops get here! I’m filing every charge in the book!”

“Just a bit bats, is she?” A voice off the side asked. “Need a hand there, boy?”

Emma looked over to see the dark-haired man she’d forcibly ejected from the carriage. The man started forward to take hold of Emma. A desperate plan formed in her mind and she settled within the powerful embrace. She watched the dark-haired man approach her as though she’d turned into a wild animal. Her heart thumped in her chest. She blew annoying twists of hair from her face.

When he got within kicking range, she used her captor’s strong hold to lever herself up and kick at the man again, with her shoes on this time. The man howled. His hand whipped up to cover a gash that ran from his forehead to his chin. Blood trickled from beneath his hand.

Emma’s eyes widened. She’d done it! Maybe they would leave her alone, now.

“That’ll be enough of that, Miss.” Her captor’s low, liquid voice slid down her spine. “Stop trying to take a piece of us. Your virtue is safe enough for the moment,” a brief pause, “and your life as well.”

Emma stilled, shaking with rage in the man’s arms. She’d seen enough episodes of The New Detectives to know that a kidnapper’s word was worth spit, but she needed to get him to let her go. If he let her go, she might be able to find a chance to escape. She took a deep breath that turned into a gasp when she realized that her captor’s hands were fully over her breasts. 

“Get your hands off of me,” she ordered, her voice low.

“Will you accept our word, miss?” The arms tightened one last time. “Or do we continue this invigorating and rather entertaining romp?” 

He pressed his groin into her lower back.  A gasp slipped past her lips. All the wrestling around had aroused him. She felt it clearly even through her layers of petticoats and skirts.

Her stomach jumped with nerves. “I’ll accept your word for exactly what it’s worth,” she whispered.

The arms stayed locked for a moment as her captor seemed to weigh her words. Then, he released her abruptly. Her stomach lurched. She let out an alarmed cry, but the man caught her by the elbow until she regained her balance. With a deep breath, she gathered her skirts in her hands, and turned to look at her captor. 

He was tall. She had to tip her head back to look at him. She saw dark hair, longer than she was used to, pulled back into a tail. A small breeze tugged at some loose strands. His eyes were shadowed, but one dark brow rose at her study. She dropped her eyes from his face. He was dressed in a long coat, brass buttons gleamed in the moonlight.  She couldn’t quite tell the color of the coat, the light was too uncertain, but the white shirt beneath shone in the moonlight.  

With a wary glance she looked around. The coach still sat in the road, the horses stamping in their traces. One man stood with the horses, the reins in his hands, another popped out of the carriage cab shaking his head. Two more secured the unconscious driver to a tree. Emma saw a trickle of blood slipping down his face from under the powered wig. 

They were all dressed like her captor in long coats and boots and they were all staring at her. She swallowed, a lump in her throat. She wondered if they could see the pulse jumping in her throat? She clasped her hands together and looked back at her captor.

“What do you want from me?” she asked making herself look up at him. 

He must be one of Michaela’s more eccentric movie friends. She also noticed for the first time that there were horses tethered to the nearby trees. This looked like something out of a movie set. In fact, it looked like a scene directly out of The Highwayman.

With a scowl, she tore her eyes away from his extraordinary face and looked around the clearing. She fisted her hands on her hips.

“This is absolutely ridiculous. Did Chelle put you up to this?” she demanded glaring up at him. “I can see it now.” She threw her hands up, “Chelle thought I’d need a little excitement in my life so she put you all up to waylaying me from the reception.” 

Emma looked around at the four actors loosely ringing her, their mouths hanging open. She looked back at her captor. 

“I must admit it’s awfully authentic. And she does have amazing taste in men, but I told her before that I’m not interested.” She brushed invisible dirt from her skirts and turned away from the man. “Well, it’s been exciting, but I’m exhausted. Tell Chelle you tried to get me to go along with it all, but that I just wasn’t in the mood.” She started back toward the carriage. “Someone nudge the driver and tell him the jig is up.”

“She’s not a little bats, Connor,” the man who’d originally grabbed for her said, “she’s absolutely stark staring.” 

“Something’s not quite right here, Adam,” Emma heard the man murmur as he reached out and grabbed her as she passed. Emma tried to shrug his hand off her arm. 

“I told you I’m not interested. I want to get back to the hotel.”

The fingers tightened around her arm. Her intended retort died on her lips. His eyes were not amused. He wasn’t laughing. Boy, he’s good. 

Her gaze darted around the clearing. He was correct, something wasn’t quite right here. The men were not dressed in quite the same style of clothes as she’d seen at the wedding. They were also dirtier than the average party-goer. The man who’d said she was bats was the worst—matted hair and missing teeth. One of the other had dirt smeared down the side of his face. The sleeves of the coats were raggedly and the boots mud encrusted. And if she wasn’t mistaken, that man over in the corner just pulled a musket out of a saddle holster. Weaponry had not been included in any of the costumes she’d seen and that one looked way too authentic to be a prop. 

She turned back to Connor’s unsmiling face. She felt her breath hitching and forced herself to take deep slow breath. She wiped sweaty palms on her skirt.   

“You’re not an actor, are you?” she asked quietly. 

He shook his head. 

She looked at the other men. They moved closer and the smell of horse and fire smoke wafted over. Moonlight gleamed on a pistol barrel in one hand.  “They’re not actors either, are they,” she whispered making him bend down to hear her.

He shook his head again.

They stood nearly nose to nose for a silent moment, her eyes intent on his. “If you’re not actors and you’re not here because Chelle sent you, who are you and what do you want?” Her breath hitched again, coming faster. Her heart hammered in her chest and her knees felt weak. Emma didn’t think she’d be able to run now if she wanted to. 

A satanic smile lifted the corners of his full lips. He leaned forward until Emma smelled campfire smoke on his jacket. She wanted to step back, but couldn’t. She needed to hear his words, to know why they’d stopped her carriage and fairly accosted her. Connor raised his eyebrows and beckoned her to come closer. Against her better judgment, she tipped her head and moved another inch.

 “We’re highwaymen, milady,” he whispered in her ear, “and what we want is…you.”

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/4joPnY

 

Author Bio  

   picture of author Rebecca L. Frencl smiling face woman dining out with friends

When I was a kid growing up in the near Chicago suburbs I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to teach and I wanted to write. I’d spend hours over the little typewriter Mom and Dad bought for me when I was little clattering away at stories and plays I’d wheedle my cousins and brother into performing. I think I wrote my first “book” in 6th grade and had a friend illustrate it for me. I never really looked back from there.

Now, I can say that I’ve achieved both of my goals. I’ve been teaching 8th graders for more than 15 years, sharing my love of words with hundreds. I always tell my kids that it’s not that they don’t like to read they just haven’t met the right book yet. I make it one of my missions in life to put those books into their hands.

My love of literature lead to my debut Solstice novel, Ribbons of Moonlight. I’ve always loved poetry and “The Highwayman” has always been a personal favorite. I always thought there was more to that story and now there is.

So, here am I living—still living in the Chicago suburbs, a little further out than where I first started, but I can still see the skyline on my drive in to work. I married my high school prom date and we share a beautiful little girl, two spoiled hound dogs and a love of reading and all things Disney. Overall, I’m happy where I am, but I’m also looking forward to seeing what the next several years bring. Hopefully, it will bring me several more books on this author page!

You can find me at:

http://rebeccalfrencl.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rebecca-L-Frencl/115163871892050?ref=hl

https://twitter.com/rlfrencl

Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-L-Frencl/e/B00EQDG5C4/

 

The Shattered Prism was just released in June 2013 through Solstice Publishing.

book cover image for The Shattered Prism by Rebecca L. Frencl depicting a woman dressed in a Medieval costume holding a sword while another lady plays the harp with magical swirls dancing around

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/3LwyAJ    

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