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A List of Worthy Rom Coms for Valentine Week

2/12/2023

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A List of Worthy Rom Coms for Valentine's Week

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I thought I’d take a moment to do a romantic post…
​
I must admit, I have a weakness for good love stories. Girl meets boy, and then romance ensues. Or girl-girl, boy-boy, et cetera. Maybe even a bit of reverse harem. Who really cares, as long as you’re happy? Recently, I perused the top new releases in Romance on Amazon. Then, I couldn’t decide which subgenre I should focus on. Yet, what could be better, more uplifting and such, than a decent rom com? Steamy or clean romance, I’ve included both types and a few different themes. You decide which works better for you. I’m adding them below. Enjoy!

Romance Books to Discover

https://books2read.com/u/bW0pQG

https://books2read.com/u/bMNzY7

https://books2read.com/u/mV0DRA

https://books2read.com/u/mqeNwe

https://books2read.com/u/mvyNW6

https://books2read.com/u/bxrNQP

https://books2read.com/u/bzKnZ9

https://books2read.com/u/3nDN2o

https://books2read.com/u/bzKnZE

https://www.amazon.com/Valentines-Day-Proposal-Alpha-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B0BSLC36YC/

https://www.amazon.com/When-Farmer-Met-City-Girl-ebook/dp/B0BSP37YR7/

https://www.amazon.com/Snows-Prince-Silver-Spoon-Underworld-ebook/dp/B0B27JFLJG/

https://www.amazon.com/Serving-CEO-Him-Book-ebook/dp/B0BSF5C2TG/

https://www.amazon.com/Just-Another-Chance-Alpha-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B0BRHZ2JL8/

https://www.amazon.com/Dirty-Devil-single-romance-Nashville-ebook/dp/B09V3FB1SF/

https://www.amazon.com/Icebreaker-Novel-1-Maple-Hills/dp/1668026031/

https://www.amazon.com/Desert-Island-Paradise-Castaway-Couples-ebook/dp/B0BT5VHZ5L/

https://www.amazon.com/Until-Saw-You-Dianna-Roman-ebook/dp/B0BNPRNZ1Z/

https://www.amazon.com/Turnabout-Regency-inspired-Sydney-Salier-ebook/dp/B0BSCGKX9N/

https://www.amazon.com/Malones-Heart-Haven-Texas-Book-ebook/dp/B0BMJPP9KP/

https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Mess-Wedding-Accidental-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BTTQJT7L/

https://www.amazon.com/Scandalous-Secret-Spinsters-Charming-Rogues-ebook/dp/B09S9XJ7H5/

https://www.amazon.com/Xaviers-Kitten-Curvy-Girl-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BFJZ77J4/

https://www.amazon.com/First-Fall-Romantic-Comedy-Bookshop-ebook/dp/B0BN4TV5ZR/

https://www.amazon.com/Rocked-Bayou-Badges-bodyguard-rockstar-ebook/dp/B09ZH1GYDJ/

https://www.amazon.com/Crushes-Confections-Holiday-Hollow-Jarica-ebook/dp/B0BKTTKLWY/

https://www.amazon.com/Love-Rescheduled-Jennifer-Peel-ebook/dp/B0BSKB24JL/

https://www.amazon.com/Baby-Grumpy-Billionaire-Surprise-Pregnancy-ebook/dp/B0BSYSV1V2/

https://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Bed-Wayward-Woodvilles-Book-ebook/dp/B09MZF69M6/

https://www.amazon.com/Audible-A-Long-Time-Coming/dp/B0BR62F8XV/

https://www.amazon.com/Life-Worth-Living-Monica-McCallan-ebook/dp/B0BT56M3Z2/

https://www.amazon.com/Husband-Hoax-Accidental-Love-Book-ebook/dp/B0BKZJLTXX/

https://www.amazon.com/Stripe-Left-Paranormal-Dating-Agency-ebook/dp/B0BR2QQF6S/

https://www.amazon.com/Love-We-Make-Harper-Bliss-ebook/dp/B0BRL9PBLN/

https://www.amazon.com/Silver-Fox-Boss-Daddy-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B0BTP7BC2J/

https://www.amazon.com/Wood-You-Mine-Lumberjack-Lumberjacks-ebook/dp/B0BP2W9F8H/

https://www.amazon.com/Stay-You-Whisper-Lake-Brothers-ebook/dp/B0BSSHY563/

https://www.amazon.com/Strictly-Pleasure-romantic-Salinger-Brothers-ebook/dp/B0B5JJFFKJ/

https://www.amazon.com/Right-Move-Windy-City-Book/dp/B0BTRSXLMZ/

https://www.amazon.com/Shootout-Steam-Warriors-Hockey-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BP7XKHZ2/

https://www.amazon.com/Not-Resume-Age-Gap-Lesbian-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BSGLTRX6/

https://www.amazon.com/Doctor-Everything-Daddys-Friend-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BSNZGJVQ/

https://www.amazon.com/Georgie-All-Along-Kate-Clayborn-ebook/dp/B0B17NP4N7/

https://www.amazon.com/Display-Me-MM-Romance-Bears-4-U-ebook/dp/B0BM6T1FRY/

https://www.amazon.com/Chick-Magnet-Emma-Barry-ebook/dp/B09Y5HHZ6G/

https://www.amazon.com/Royal-Coronation-Contemporary-Romance-Entanglement-ebook/dp/B0BJCL3Q8T/

https://www.amazon.com/Change-My-Ticket-Non-Famous-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BTHWZVNH/

https://www.amazon.com/Bosses-Benefits-Reverse-Harem-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BTZ4ZMSQ/

https://www.amazon.com/Double-Love-Drama-Bisexual-Collection-ebook/dp/B0BTJCFHSB/

https://www.amazon.com/Between-Them-Bisexual-Reverse-Collection-ebook/dp/B0BTW38ZH5/

https://www.amazon.com/Our-Ride-Forever-Honeywood-Book-ebook/dp/B0BMFHTRW3/

https://www.amazon.com/Cupid-Can-Suck-Relationship-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0BJGJFB43/

https://www.amazon.com/Landing-One-Enemies-Lovers-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0BQB84XK8/

https://www.amazon.com/My-Secret-Valentine-Friends-Teacher-ebook/dp/B0BVCL8WPB

https://www.amazon.com/Meet-Hate-Enemies-Lovers-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0B9CKYJ61/

https://www.amazon.com/Grumpy-Boss-Enemy-Enemies-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BT689DGC/

https://www.amazon.com/Breath-Magic-Lennox-Book-ebook/dp/B0BSC81RQD/

https://www.amazon.com/Tuppeny-Dreadfuls-Professor-Ballantyne-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0BSCSV8JW/

https://www.amazon.com/Pick-Right-Valentines-Novella-Shared-ebook/dp/B0BLP76KYB/

https://www.amazon.com/Your-Place-Mine-enemies-lovers-ebook/dp/B0BGGP3T6F/

https://www.amazon.com/Fake-Fianc%C3%A9-Next-Door-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B0BSHF8C75/

https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Dixie-second-chance-romantic-ebook/dp/B0BSTLZSLY/

https://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Tea-Second-Chances-Inspirational-ebook/dp/B0BSTTK6SK/

https://www.amazon.com/Taking-You-Down-Enemies-Lovers-ebook/dp/B0BRCGQSRV/

https://www.amazon.com/Extreme-Heart-Makeover-friendships-heartwarming-ebook/dp/B0B37VW3PP/

https://www.amazon.com/Off-Limits-Cowboy-Sweet-Small-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BSNX8QF7/

https://www.amazon.com/Larsson-Sibling-Omnibus-Contemporary-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0BSRLK165/

https://www.amazon.com/Only-Girl-Rockstar-Romantic-trilogy-ebook/dp/B0BP3PSKK4/

https://www.amazon.com/Falling-My-Roommate-Friends-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BBS8KB8D/

https://www.amazon.com/Meet-Hate-Love-Enemies-Romantic-ebook/dp/B0BSS7768H/

https://www.amazon.com/Rock-Star-Cupid-Valentines-Rockstar-ebook/dp/B0B9WRXFH8/

https://www.amazon.com/Wedding-Wolfman-Paranormal-Romantic-Monsters-ebook/dp/B0B9MN1623/

https://www.amazon.com/Wilder-Last-Steamy-Romantic-Adventures-ebook/dp/B0B3QRLD43/

https://www.amazon.com/Rockstar-Bosshole-Enemies-Surprise-Pregnancy-ebook/dp/B0BT1ZHNC6/

https://www.amazon.com/Drained-Vampire-Plumber-Romantic-Romances-ebook/dp/B0BSRCNCH6/

https://www.amazon.com/Fixing-Flirt-Small-Town-Romantic-Blossom-ebook/dp/B0BKYKTLD9/

https://www.amazon.com/Meet-Dare-friends-benefits-romantic-ebook/dp/B0BQF2G1V4/

https://www.amazon.com/Nanny-Lion-Daddy-Shifter-Needs-ebook/dp/B0BJZ22PFR/

https://www.amazon.com/My-Gingerbread-Ever-After-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B0BTQXPD3P/

https://www.amazon.com/Vampire-Billionaires-Secret-Baby-Cats-ebook/dp/B0BQ2DPNLL/

https://www.amazon.com/Top-Key-Romantic-Comedy-Alabaster-ebook/dp/B0B7GR48R4/

https://www.amazon.com/41st-Disaster-Sweet-Romantic-Comedy-ebook/dp/B0BSFXN8TX/

Well, that’s about it. Now, this list isn't an exhaustive list. It doesn’t encompass all of the new releases in romantic comedy on Amazon or any other bookseller. That would be impossible. I only included some. Feel free to look over the aforementioned titles or find one that suits you.

The point here is to enjoy Valentine’s week with a good romantic read. Pull up a chair, get comfy, and fall into the fiction world.
Picture
Amanda Vick, Unsplash.
As always, happy reading! ♥
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Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age blog post 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

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age guest article here.
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Poetry Spotlight: CJ Heck on Gentle Sensuality

7/19/2013

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Hi, readers! We have a real treat in store for you today, a poetry spotlight. In these poetry spotlights today and in the future, we will be showcasing poetry by some very talented poets. These poets have graced us with their presence.  

With us today is poet CJ Heck. Here is a little taste of her poetry and her views on gentle sensuality.

 

When It's Over, You Just Know 

You don't always know
how you know, 
it comes slowly, the awareness. 
With the certainty and final resignation 
of a child learning there's no Santa Claus, 
you just know.

The breakfast table, once a venue 
for long dreamy stares 
and coffee-flavored kisses, 
awkwardly becomes a silent stage 
for reading the news, 
eating breakfast, and 
you just know.

The smell of his shirt 
when you'd bury your face there, 
the feel of his hands on your body 
as if they had a life of their own, 
all silently slip to a place 
wherever memories go 
to gather dust, and 
you just know. 

You miss the nights, 
how his body and yours 
breathed and moved as one. 
Maybe it's those nights 
and how they were 
that give the knowing life, but 
you just know. 

Like ocean waves upon the sand, 
love recedes 
with all the other yesterdays 
and you would trade 
all your tomorrows 
to have it back, but 
you just know.

 

 

We Need to Get Away

 

Have I told you lately

how good you smell

when the shower

spits you out?

I can't recall

the last time, but

it wouldn't surprise me,

considering what time

we actually have to spend

alone together these days.

I do know, I remember

how intense it used to be.

We need to get away,

just the two of us,

before we grow any ruts

in this lovely road …

 

Let's go somewhere now,

before talking dirty

really means:

"You doing a light load?

Can you grab my pj's

from the hook

on the bathroom door?"

 

Before wanna catch a quickie?

really means:

"I'm pooped.  Wanna take a nap?"

 

Before Oh God, I'm coming!

actually means,

"Don't nag me, I'm almost ready!

Go ahead, start the car."

 

Let's go somewhere now

while Baby, that was fantastic!

still means more than

a Sunday Scrabble win.

 

It's not too late ...

I remember.


  

 

A Box for Goodwill

 

As a friend, I had come to help

yet one more time

and I watched as she set

the cardboard box on the floor.

It was labeled for Goodwill,

penned in large block letters.

From deep in the closet,

she brought out an old blue suit.

It had faded over the years,

but I saw in her eyes

the memories still had not.

Softly, she smoothed the sleeves

that dangled flat and empty.

Then she stroked the slack trousers

on the smooth wooden hanger.

Gently, she brushed

the dust from the collar and lapel,

and then I heard her sigh.

Her resolve had melted away.

Again we talked and remembered.

We spoke of long ago,

how the sleeves encircled her

in warm secure hugs,

and the trousers had covered

lean muscular legs,

legs slightly bowed,

legs that loved to dance,

and what she missed the most

--the heart that beat below

the lapel of the old blue suit,

the heart that beat with love for her.

For over forty years,

the suit had stood sentinel,

loyally guarding both her

and those memories,

and I watched as she carefully

replaced the suit and closed

the closet door.

Through quiet tears

she asked once more

how all of that could ever fit

in a box for Goodwill.


 

 

A Poet for a Lover

 

Oh Lord, give me a poet for a lover,

whose words stroke me like velvet hands.

Word-tender caresses more reaching

than the caress of a mere mortal man.

 

A poet's light touch is so gentle.

Word-fingers probe deep every time,

arousing me, haunting me, wetting me,

seducing me, body and mind.

 

Oh Lord, give me a poet for a lover!

Lust and fire burn deep in his heart.

A silver-tongued devil whose words make me ache

to be on my knees in the dark.

 

Word-foreplay making me want him,

only mind-loved, I want to be free

to feel just one time, my poet inside, where only mind-lust up to now has loved me. 





Poet Bio  

picture of author and poet CJ Heck

CJ Heck is a published poet, writer, blogger, and the author of three children's books, a collection of short stories, and her newest, a poetry book for adults. She is also a Vietnam War widow.

CJ has three daughters and eleven grandchildren. She lives and writes in Florida with her partner, Robert Cosmar, who is also an author.

For book excerpts, more information, interviews, or to invite CJ to your school, or organization, please call 352-299-5634 or visit her website, Barking Spiders Poetry.

Links:

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/cj-heck/17/312/b76

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CJHeck60

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cj.heck1

https://www.facebook.com/CJHeckAuthor

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/C.J.-Heck/e/B000APRMC4

Blogs: http://memoirsfromnam.blogspot.com/

http://cjswriterthoughts.blogspot.com/

http://knowingwhispers.blogspot.com/

Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/cjheck1949/videos

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5308345.C_J_Heck

Shelfari: http://www.shelfari.com/cj_heck


Books:

Barking Spiders (and Other Such Stuff)
Barking Spiders 2 (sequel)
Me Too!  Preschool Poetry 
Bits and Pieces (Short Story Collection)

Anatomy of a Poet

My Etsy Shop for Autographed Books:
http://www.etsy.com/shop/CJHeckBooks



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

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Poetry Spotlight: Pam Handa on Love

7/12/2013

0 Comments

 

Hi, readers!  We have a real treat in store for you today, a poetry spotlight. In these poetry spotlights today and in the future, we will be showcasing poetry by some very talented poets. These poets have graced us with their presence.  

With us today is poet Pam Handa. Here is a little taste of her poetry and her views on love.

 

 

Stupid Cupid

 

Mortals have believed in you right from the start,

Because tiny Cupid you're such a sweetheart.

Your golden wings are a wonder and delight;

Your solid arrows quite impossible to fight.

Who can resist your loving piercing darts

Which strike at random vulnerable hearts?

When you come down racing by to strike,

Men and women who each other could like,

There's no running away from your absolute power,

Or trying to evade your earthly love shower.

The ignorant may call you stupid Cupid

But the wise know you're love's child little Cupid



 

Love


Love, the most unique

Of all human emotions,

To a million folks,

Is a million notions.

 

Simply holding hands,

Or lying on the sands.

Whispering sweet nothings,

Or many other things:

 

A hot, fiery kiss;

Or someone you miss.

A big sacrifice;

An infatuation in disguise.

 

A fleeting smile,

Lasting quite a while

A life-time passion,

Or a strange obsession.

 

For some, it’s a dream

As bright as a sunbeam.

Or a reality stark,

Consuming one like a shark!

 

Whatever one thinks,

Whatever one feels,

It fills one’s very being,

And from what I’m seeing,

 

It brings a special feeling

That sends the head reeling.

Taking away the strife,

Of this earthly life.

 

Making one’s ordinary existence

Full of joy and excitement

An extraordinary resistance,

And mental enlightenment!


 

The Queen of the Heart

 

 The young lady was still in her early teens,

When love came by in a tinsel dream.

 “Would you like to be my queen,” he promptly asked.

 “Oh yes,” she replied, “If forever you will last.”

 “Let’s sign a bilateral pact never ever to part,

 But to stay alive in each other’s heart.”

 

“That’s fine by me,” replied the jubilant teen,

“What about the times when life is not so serene?”

“Why worry about what we may never see?

Let’s dwell on that which will surely be.”

“That’s fine by me, I’ll do my little bit.

What happens to us when old age does hit?”

“Think of all the good times we’ll have enshrined,

In our photo-albums on the side-board lined.”

“If you say so my dear, I’ll gladly believe,

But, promise me this, there’ll be no sigh to heave.”

“When we’ve seen the cliffs of Dover,

And it’s still not quite over,

I promise we’ll retire to where we belong.

In that corner of my heart,

Where I know we'll still be strong.”

 

 

Poet Bio 

 picture of poet and author Pam Handa

My name is Pam Handa nee Kochhar. I was born in New Delhi but have spent most of my life in Ghana and the UK. I graduated from the Sacred Heart College Dalhousie, in India. I received my Masters degree from the Punjab University as well as a gold medal for coming first. I started my teaching career in the English Dept of the same university. I married Dr Prem Handa, a Paediatrician, in 1968 and in 1972 we emigrated to Ghana. Today, I am the author of two books recently published by Trafford in the USA. 

Of Kismet and Karma, my first novel, is a cross-cultural blend of fact and fiction, based on my personal experiences in India, Ghana and the UK. My anthology of poems is entitled Wings of the Heart. Both books are available on Amazon.com, as E-books and in all Barnes and Nobles shops. The EBOOKS are really cheap. Get hold of them and spend time on going back to all that stirs the very soul!

Links:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/PAM-HANDA-NEE-KOCHHAR/121487404694554
Twitter:  @handapam

Book Links:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17246306-wings-of-the-heart

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17240630-of-kismet-and-karma

http://www.ebookmall.com/author/pam-handa-nee-kochhar

Miscellaneous:  http://thevirtualbookcase.wordpress.com/2013/06/02/of-kismet-and-karma-and-other-books-by-pam-handa-nee-kochhar/

Youtube Videos:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VECPWY6qUI 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjrt6Dm_mx8 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6gjwPYwDws 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZOgfateng1A 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsHEVRVo90w 

 

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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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