Friday, February 18, 2011

February Romance Novel Event: By the Book by JoAnn Carter


Perky 24 year old police dispatcher, Sarah Murphy, is held captive by images of her past. She doesn't trust men and is determined to hold onto her heart at all costs. Lieutenant Dylan Eldredge of the Hampton Police Department believes she’s the woman God has intended for him and is equally determined to have her for his wife. But can he prove he’s the man for her?

Read the excerpt!

 
Dylan gestured toward Sarah. "Do you see that woman in line?"

Matt looked over his shoulder. "Yup."

"If she’s a Christian, that’s the woman I’m going to marry."

Matt’s elbow slipped off the table. "What? Love at first sight? Aw, come on!" Dylan laughed. "You heard me."

"Yeah, right, Dylan. Even you’re not that crazy. After all, you don’t even know her."

Dylan wiped his mouth with the napkin, not bothering to answer Matt’s statement.

"Oh, come on, you can’t be serious." Dylan merely raised an eyebrow. Matt thumped the table in astonishment. "You are!"

Dylan smiled his confirmation.

"But this is crazy. You don’t even date all that much."

Dylan sipped his Pepsi and glanced back at Sarah. "Somehow, she’s different. I just know." After daydreaming for a moment, he hit his friend on the shoulder and teased, "So, what do you say? Are you up for a bet?"

Matt choked on his soda. "Bet? You never bet. Are you sick or something?"

Dylan shook his head. "How can I resist, then? This is too good of an opportunity to see you eat crow."

Dylan said in a dry tone, "Ah, what are friends for?" He sat back, folded his arms across his chest, and looked back to Sarah at the checkout counter.

Read the reviews!

"This fast-paced read is wonderfully written and presents a dreamy love story! The actions and characters truly project a love of God; it also quotes enough scripture for the book to be life-changing! I loved, and recommend highly, this amazing book!"

--The Romance Studio (5-heart review)

"This is a must read book that will lift the readers' heart."

--Long and Short Romance Reviews

"Ms. Carter penned a truly moving story with this gem of a read. I liked Sarah immediately and understood her pain of trusting any man to be in her life. I felt bad for her that she wouldn’t let a man get close to her and because of this, was missing out on so much she could have shared with that someone special. I fell in love with Dylan and I applauded his strength and determination that he didn’t give up on Sarah. I thought they were perfectly matched for each other, but I was hoping that Sarah would finally see it that way also. This was an enjoyable inspirational read for me and I would recommend it to other readers in a heartbeat."

--Night Owl Romance

This short inspirational romance is available at WhiteRosePublishing.com for only $2.00! It is also available in a Kindle edition

JoAnn Carter lives in Vermont with her wonderful husband of 18 years, four children and Ginger, the best dog in the world. She enjoys being with her family & friends, writing, reading, and cooking.


In the past JoAnn has worked as a Licensed Practical Nurse, an apple orchard guide and as a substitute teacher. She is available for speaking engagements to book clubs, reader groups, library groups, women's ministry events, school events and church retreats.


Her next book, The Floating Palace, will be released July 15th through Desert Breeze Publishing. You can access the book trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDcuTF8v9bg  


Visit JoAnn online at http://home.comcast.net/~jo.glenncarter/site/?/home/  and her blog at http://home.comcast.net/~jo.glenncarter/site/?/blog

Connect with JoAnn on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/JoAnnDavisCarter 


Thursday, February 17, 2011

February Romance Novel Event: The Portrait by Hazel Statham Giveaway!


England 1812

Severely injured at the battle of Salamanca, Edward Thurston, the new Earl of Sinclair, returns home to his beloved Fly Hall. Determined not to present his prospective bride with the wreck he believes himself to have become, he decides to end his betrothal, unaware that Lady Jennifer, for vastly differing reasons, has reached the selfsame decision.

Throughout the campaigns, Edward was often seen relying greatly on a miniature he carried, and it is to this token he clings upon his return. Will he eventually find happiness with the girl in the portrait, or will he remain firm in his resolve not to wed? Reason dictates one course, his heart another.

Read the excerpt!

Entering the hallway at Fly, Jennifer asked her cousin Eleanor, who acted as chaperone, to await her there. Despite the impropriety, she wished for no witness to the interview with her betrothed, desiring whatever words were spoken to remain private. It took much persuading, but eventually Eleanor, much against her better judgment, succumbed to her young relative’s pleadings and allowed herself to be cozily seated by the large fireplace, glad of its welcoming warmth after the chills of the carriage.


****



Hearing the sounds of arrival, the earl rose from his chair in the morning room and prepared to meet his intended. Something in the region of his chest clenched at the thought of the impending interview, but he schooled his countenance to greet her with an equanimity he was far from feeling.



Almost immediately, the door opened and Brough announced Lady Jennifer. Full of resolve, her skirts swishing with the crispness of her step, she came quickly into the light-filled, blue and gold salon. As the door closed quietly behind her, she came to an abrupt halt.



Finding it difficult to advance further into the room, she visibly blanched at the extend of Sinclair’s injuries, her expressive eyes wide at sight of his altered appearance. Nothing could have prepared her for the emotions the mere sight of him evoked, and whatever words she would have uttered, died unsaid.



Ignoring his wildly leaping emotions at seeing her once more, Edward drank in the delicacy of her features and form and, gathering his cloak of resolve about him, quickly closed the gap between them. Taking her cold fingers in his warm clasp, he raised them dutifully to his lips, feeling them tremble in his hold. His eyes never left her face, and he realized that there was no guile about her as he watched the mix of emotions that chased across her pale countenance. In that instant, he knew that he had made the right decision to end the betrothal.



“My lord, I…..” she began, but her voice failed and he saw the tears well up into her beautiful eyes.



“Will you not be seated, Lady Jennifer?” he said, leading her to a chair by the hearth. “Brough will bring refreshments and after a cup of tea I am sure you will feel more the thing.” Releasing her hand he stood before her as she sank into the chair. He found it necessary to concentrate, to keep his voice neutral, so that she would not be aware of his inner turmoil. Grateful that he was at least allowed to retain his pride, he was relieved that he showed no signs of the physical weakness that had laid him so low.



“I realize my appearance must come as quite a shock to you,” he said with an incongruous smile.



She half rose but he held up his hand to forestall her and she once more sank back against the cushions. All former irritation forgotten, she was unable to put into words what she was feeling at that precise moment and was relieved when a light tapping on the door heralded an interruption.



Brough came into the room with a tray full of a light repast which was placed on a low table set at their side, whilst a butler brought in a tea tray and set it on a small table beside Jennifer.



Busying herself with the pouring of the tea, she set up a flow of inconsequential conversation in the hope of presenting a diversion. She never allowed her eyes to wander from her task, dreading the moment when she would be forced to acknowledge the situation. However, as she handed the cup to Sinclair, the words died on her lips as she became aware of his intense scrutiny.

Seeing her unease, Edward straightened himself in his chair, saying in a subdued tone, “Lady Jennifer, I think it only fair that I bring about a swift end to your disquiet. I see what affect my injuries have on you, and believe me when I say that I quite understand. I am not so insensitive as to not realize just how devastating it would be if you were forced to ally yourself to such an individual as I have become. I would not wish it on you.”



She would have given an answer but he slowly shook his head. “There is no need to attempt to put the matter delicately. I am quite sure you realize, as do I, that to continue with the engagement would be disastrous. Therefore, I will not prevaricate on the issue. I release you from your promise. The wedding will not take place.”



“It is not your wish that we should marry?” she asked paling still further.



“It is not. I will send a retraction to the Gazette immediately. It will be seen that I have been too long away and who should blame us if our sentiments have undergone a change during that time. Indeed, it will be seen that I am the cause of the rift, so you need not fear censure.”



“Are my feelings on the matter not to be considered then, sir?” she demanded.



“I don’t think you know what your feelings are at this precise moment,” he replied, noting the indignant tilt of her chin and the militant look in her eye. “If you would but be guided by me, I’m sure you will see the right of it, and will be relieved to be rid of me.”



“I am beginning to think that I shall,” she said, coming abruptly to her feet and nearly upsetting the tea tray in the process. “I’m excessively grateful to you for pointing it out to me. You have saved me the need to deliberate further on the matter.”



He too came to his feet and bridged the distance between them to take her hand in his.



“You may not think it now, but you will come to be grateful to me for making the decision,” he said earnestly. “Let not your sentiments at this moment in time cloud your judgment. You see me as a case for pity, and it’s not what I would wish. I will not allow you to take me when such emotions rule.”



“You are quite right, sir,” she snapped, withdrawing her hand from his warm clasp. “I would not wish that you should think I take you out of sympathy, therefore I see the sense of it.” She did not understand why his words piqued her so. Had it not been her own intent to end the betrothal?



An unfathomable look came in his eyes. “I hope we may still meet as friends?”



“As friends? I see no reason why we should not,” she replied coolly, deciding her reaction was that of resentment because it had been he who had uttered the words that ended the betrothal and not she.



Relieved, he smiled. “Then we are in agreement?”



“Most certainly. You have taken a burden from my mind. I too had wondered at the sense of continuing with the engagement and had reached the same decision as have you. Now we are both free to continue with our lives unhindered!”



“Have you felt the betrothal a hindrance?” he asked with some concern.



She colored with confusion. “Yes…no…I don’t know what I have felt. We had become as strangers and you were so far away….” Her voice faltered and she refused to meet his gaze.



“Then the decision to end it is the right one and you may recommence your life without its burden. Now that the matter is settled, we can be easy in each other’s company. Won’t you be seated and take some tea with me? Talk to me for a while. I am in dire need of civilized conversation.

****

When the time came for Jennifer to leave Fly, Edward escorted his former betrothed and her companion to their chaise. Watching from the shallow steps that led to the gravel drive, he raised his hand in farewell as the equipage disappeared down the long driveway, waiting until it disappeared from view before turning back to the hall.



Repairing immediately to his apartment, he went straight to the dresser and pulled wide the drawer. Without taking it from its resting-place, he opened up the handkerchief and looked once more at the delicate face in the portrait.



“The deed is done, my love. The deed is done,” he said quietly, and once more folding the cloth, he gently closed the drawer.


Blurb from my review: "Regency romance novels don't get any better than The Portrait by Hazel Statham."

More reviews!

"I recommend this novel with a high flying 5 star review and will definitely be checking out more of Ms. Statham's books in the near future!"

--Book Reviews by Molly

"Hazel Statham depicts a wonderful tale of friendship and love with this heartwarming tale. Edward's obsession with THE PORTRAIT really captured my interest right away and I couldn't help but wonder who the woman is and why she's so vital to him. That mystery alone was enough to keep me glued to the pages. I eagerly anticipated each scene where their younger brothers, Perry and Freddie, would find themselves involved in some sort of trouble and require their help to extract themselves. I loved how Edward and Jennifer's friendship is so obviously based on more than just simple affection and they'd both go out of their way to help each other. THE PORTRAIT is a lovely romance with unexpected occurrences and fun characters who will charm their way into your hearts. This is definitely a story I'd highly recommend reading."

--C. Dionne, Oregon


"I very highly recommend this book. It's an absolute delight! It's well written, the story line is light and fun and entertaining. It kept me turning the pages and I couldn't put it down. The characters stole my heart. It's positive, heart-warming, sweet and romantic! I would love to read more books like this one from this author!"

--Life in Review

Now that I've really made you want to own a copy of this book, here's how you can win a free copy for yourself.



1) You must be a follower of The Book Connection to win.

2) For your first entry, visit the author's website at http://www.hazel-statham.co.uk/index.htm and leave a comment here telling me which of her books you have read or would like to read. Please be sure to include a valid email address. You cannot win if I don't have your email address.

3) One additional entry if you friend me on Facebook. Leave a comment with your profile link to show you're friending me.

4) One additional entry if you follow me on Twitter. Leave a comment with your profile link to show you're now a follower.

5) One additional entry if you follow Hazel on Twitter. Leave a comment with your profile link to indicate you requested to be a follower.
6) You must be 18 or older and reside in the U.S. or Canada to be eligible to win.

Deadline for entries is 11:59 PM Eastern on Sunday, February 27, 2011. Winner will be selected out of all entrants who followed the rules governing this contest. Winner will have 72 hours after being contacted to email me their mailing address. If I have not heard from the winner within that time frame, I will select a new winner. The Book Connection is not responsible for lost or damaged goods.

Giveaway Winners Announced!



Congratulations goes out to Cathy W., winner of a copy of The Home for the Friendless by Betty Auchard.

Didn't win? Don't be sad. You can still pick up a copy of this book on Amazon!

Our congratulations also go out to Meredith, winner of a copy of Tom Roy's Released. For those who didn't win a copy of the book, not only is it available on Amazon, the Kindle edition is only $2.99 right now!

I'll be emailing the winners tomorrow morning. They have 72 hours to respond. If I don't hear from them during that time, I'll select new winners.

Thanks to all who entered. Look for a new giveaway coming soon!

Author Spotlight and Interview with Frank Edwards, Author of Final Mercy

Dr. Jack Forester, director of the New Canterbury University Hospital emergency department, is about to win an ongoing battle to modernize the ED when he’s stymied by the power-hungry dean, Bryson Witner. Then someone tries to murder Jack’s mentor and the former dean, setting it up to look like suicide.

Bit by bit, Jack uncovers facts that suggest several other recent tragic accidents may not have been in the least accidental. The deeper he digs, the closer danger creeps, and the phrase “life or death” begins to take on a new and very personal meaning.

Read the excerpt!

He walked faster. Having skipped the media circus at the hospital, he’d caught up on his sleep, and his legs felt strong. Past the main quad and nearing the foot- bridge, he was alone yet had the odd sen- sation someone was trying to get his attention. He stopped and looked around. Nothing.

He continued. Nearer the footbridge, he felt it again. He didn’t stop this time but strode more quickly. He continued through the grove of trees along the iron fence bordering Mt. Seneca Cemetery. Then he was on the footbridge, cars siz- zling by on the wet pavement twenty-five feet below.

He was a third of the way across when he heard someone behind him.

The footsteps approached at a jogger’s pace, and the back of Gavin’s neck tin- gled. He stopped and turned. The man coming toward him wore a black sweat- shirt with the hood drawn tightly around his face.

A potent chill crept up Gavin’s back. He turned and hurried toward the hospital end of the narrow bridge, but it was still fifty feet away and the footfalls were closing.

Read the reviews!

“FINAL MERCY is a medical thriller that I couldn’t put down. I stayed up late on two consecutive nights in enthralled reading. The novelist – who is a medical doctor — not only creates a tale of suspense and intrigue, but he also gives interesting details about hospitals and medical schools and emergency medicine.”


--H.H. Gregory, reader

"What I found most exciting about the story was we know who is behind the wrong doings so it is not so much of a who did it, but a more of a why and how did they do it...I hope that the character of Dr. Jack Forester shows up again in another novel."

--Lucky Rosie's

"...if you love medical TV dramas and such, please get a copy of this book."

--Book Reviews by Molly

A Conversation with Author Frank Edwards

Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

With a mother who was a natural story teller, I fell in love with books at a very early age and began writing when I was in my early teens. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to do when I graduated from high school and ended up enlisting in the Army. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but something about the experience of being in Vietnam lit a fire in my belly to become both a physician and a writer. William Carlos Williams became my role model in medical school. After getting my MD I gravitated to emergency medicine, then a brand new specialty, because it would give me a practice where I could more easily carve out blocks of writing time, and also, I think, because it resembled what I’d done as a combat chopper pilot—spells of routine activity broken by unexpected bursts of urgent focused activity. After thirty years, these two parts of my life—medicine and writing—still compliment each other.

Where did you grow up?

I was born in what is now the inner city of Rochester, NY. My parents migrated to the suburbs when I was little, then kept moving further out into the country. Part of my teenage years were spent on the same farm of my mother’s childhood, right next to a creek full of blue gills where I taught myself to fly fish. There was an artesian well that scented every breeze from the north with rotten eggs.

What is your fondest childhood memory?

My parents didn’t have many books in the house, but they did buy a set of storybooks for us kids. This set contained all the old fables, tales, and nursery rhymes. My mother enjoyed reading to us, and I loved every one of those stories and couldn’t get enough. When I was cleaning out my parent’s house after they died a few years ago, I came across another book I’d completely loved when I was little. It was Skipper John’s Cook, by Marcia Brown, and it’s sitting this moment on a shelf not far from my desk. I love to look at the line drawings still. It’s about a boy named Si and his dog George. Si signed on as Captain John’s cook and he became very poplar with the sailors after switching their diet from beans and beans, to fish and fish, and by the time the crew got tired of fish and fish, they were home again. My mother wrote the date she bought the book on the first page. I was three.

When did you begin writing?

I had my first poem published when I was fifteen, also the same year I wrote my first short story, which was science fiction and borrowed a lot of atmosphere from George Orwell.

Do you write during the day, at night or whenever you can sneak a few moments?

I mainly write during the day. But because I can’t do it every day, I grab time whenever I can. I’ve done a lot of writing in the hospital at night when things are slow. That’s where I am right now.

What is this book about?

Final Mercy tells the story of Dr. Jack Forester, whose dream is to modernize the ER and start a training program for emergency doctors. The interim dean of the medical center, however, Dr. Bryson Witner, has begun throwing roadblocks in his path, and the reason appears to be Jack’s refusal to endorse Witner’s ambitions to become the permanent dean. Though a great many people have fallen for Witner’s charm and energy, Jack never fell under his spell. When Jack’s mentor and old friend, Dr. James Gain, returns to town suspecting that something is wrong at the Medical Center, Gavin becomes the victim to a murder attempt set up to look like suicide. Jack doesn’t buy the suicide story, and with the help of a beautiful journalist, Zellie Anderson, he begins a race against time to unravel the truth about Witner’s insanity. The tension builds as someone tries to sabotage Jack’s car, then Zellie doesn’t show up for a date and Jack Forester finds himself on the prow of a small boat in the middle of a blizzard scanning the water with a searchlight.

What inspired you to write it?

I’d been trying for ages to write a literary novel but found myself veering toward the creation of suspense stories and mysteries, and I would stop in frustration. I finally gave into the urge and the end result was Final Mercy. With me being a doctor, it was only natural to give the novel a medical setting. I’d done too much research to pass up.
Who is your biggest supporter?

I’m eternally grateful to have a wife who by and large understands that I need to write.

Who is your favorite author?

A tough question. My taste in books is very eclectic. I love fiction, non-fiction and poetry in just about equal measure. If pressed I’d have to say that my favorite novel would be A Confederacy of Dunces. The character of Ignatius J. Reilly is so beautifully realized, so human, so vital and his quest for self-expression and self-justification is so funny and improbable—I don’t know. I still can really explain why this book works so well for me. There’s just something about the language flowing out and circling up. It’s the cosmos in a teacup. My favorite poet for many years has been Billy Collins.

Was the road to publication smooth sailing or a bumpy ride?

Getting Final Mercy from a cluster of ideas to a published first novel took approximately eight years, and I learned a lot of craft through pure trial and error. Then, last summer, my editor, the talented Liz Burton of Zumaya Publications, and I spent about three weeks doing the final edit, and I cannot begin to describe what a fantastic learning experience that was. We did it in real-time on Google Documents—me in New York State and Liz in Austin, Texas—and it was wonderful, going over the story line by line, tinkering and polishing. Things I’d wrestled with for years finally fell into place. I learned more about the craft of story telling in that three weeks than I had in the previous half a decade. It mainly had to do, I think, with learning how to see each scene through the reader’s eyes.
Where can readers purchase a copy of your book?

Here the link to Final Mercy’s page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Final-Mercy-Frank-J-Edwards/dp/1936144204. It’s available in paperback and a Kindle version. The book can also be purchased on line at Barnes and Noble, and at Zumaya Publications.

Do you have a website and/or blog where readers can find out more?

My website is http://www.frankjedwards.com/. I’ve got a blog there. I try to keep up a discussion about writing, and would love to have more people visit and join in.

What is the best investment you have made in promoting your book?

The modern state of book promotion is very different from what I’d expected, and is extremely dependent on the Internet. I did two things. One was to develop a relationship with a local publicist, who helped me create a good website. The other was to hook up with book promotion specialist, Dorothy Thompson at http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/.

What is one piece of advice you would like to share with aspiring authors everywhere?

Don’t be discouraged. Persistence really is the key.

What is up next for you?

I’ve got two projects going on right now I’m very excited about—a sequel to Final Mercy, and a book of poems. The sequel is called Bedside. Jack Forester’s wife has discovered a disturbing feature about a new medical device being tested at Jack’s hospital and that has the potential to change human evolution.

Is there anything you would like to add?

Just to thank you again for this opportunity!


Frank J. Edwards was born in Rochester New York. In 1968 he entered the US Army and served a tour in Vietnam as a helicopter pilot. He received a BA with honors in English from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill then attended medical school at the University of Rochester, graduating with an MD in 1979. In 1989 he received an MFA in writing from Warren Wilson College in Swannanoa, NC. After practicing for a decade in North Carolina, he returned to the Rochester, area in 1990 where he remains in active practice.


He has published a number of poems and short stories in literary magazines including Carolina Quarterly and The Virginia Quarterly Review, along with numerous medical articles. In 1988, Henry Holt published his first non-fiction book, Medical Malpractice: Solving the Crisis. His second non-fiction book, The M & M Files: Morbidity and Mortality Rounds in Emergency Medicine was published by Hanley & Belfus in 2002 and has become a standard text in emergency medicine.

For the past thirteen years he has taught creative writing seminars to medical students at the U of R. In 2004, the University of Rochester Press published his collection of poems and short stories, It’ll Ease the Pain.


Final Mercy is his first novel. He is married to a former emergency nurse from Canada and lives with his family on Lake Ontario near Rochester.


You can visit his website at www.frankjedwards.com.

Final Mercy is available from Amazon as a paperback or in a Kindle edition.




Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Author Interview: Allan Leverone, Author of Final Vector

Joining us today is Allan Leverone, a three-time Derringer Award Finalist whose short fiction has been featured in Needle: A Magazine of Noir, Shroud Magazine, Twisted Dreams, Mysterical-E and many other venues, both print and online. His debut thriller, titled Final Vector, is available February 2011 from Medallion Press. For details, please visit www.allanleverone.com or his blog at www.allanleverone.blogspot.com.

Welcome to The Book Connection, Allan. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

I’m a nearly thirty year veteran air traffic controller, having been hired by the FAA in 1982 at the age of twenty-two, fresh out of college. For the last twenty years, I’ve worked traffic into and out of Boston’s Logan International Airport, setting the stage for much of the action in Final Vector.

For as long as I can remember I’ve loved to read and wanted to write, but never really indulged my interest in writing fiction from the time I left college until about five years ago.

Where did you grow up?

Harvard, Massachusetts, a tiny town about thirty miles west of Boston. No, it’s not related to the university!

When did you begin writing?

I loved writing as a child, but after leaving college took about a twenty-five year break from it while I established myself in my career and raised a family. I started a sports blog at Foxsports in January, 2006 and achieved a decent following before realizing my real desire was to write fiction. I began work on my first novel-length manuscript in November of 2006 and have been writing both novels and short fiction ever since.

Do you write during the day, at night or whenever you can sneak a few moments?

I write whenever I can. Being an air traffic controller is definitely not a nine-to-five occupation, so I’m used to the idea of working morning, night, sometimes even overnight. That type of schedule is all I’ve ever known, so writing at any time of the day or night is basically an extension of the schedule I keep in my day job..

What is this book about?

In Final Vector, air traffic controller Nick Jensen’s life is falling apart. His wife Lisa, a Pentagon auditor, has been killed in a horrific car accident and authorities believe she may have been the victim of foul play.

To escape his grief, Nick throws himself into his work at the air traffic control facility serving Boston’s Logan International Airport and is on duty the night a band of heavily-armed terrorists storm the facility. Nick escapes capture, but with time running out, must unravel the information uncovered by his dead wife to stop an assassination plot while outnumbered, unarmed and on the run…

What inspired you to write it?

I think it was a natural subject for a guy with almost thirty years of aviation experience, especially given the attraction terrorists factions the world over seem to have for airplanes as a vehicles for delivering their messages of hatred and violence.

Who is your biggest supporter?

My wife, Sue, first and foremost. A lot of wives, when confronted with a husband claiming to want to write novels, would have said, “Yeah, right, sure. Now get out there and cut the grass.” Mine has supported me enthusiastically from Day One right up to today. The same thing goes for the rest of my family. My kids had a lot more confidence in me becoming a published novelist than I did, most of the time.

Are you a member of a critique group? If no, who provides feedback on your work?

My wife is the first to read my work in most instances, whether she really wants to or not. Beyond that, I have various people I check with for realism, depending on the subject matter. But I decided a long time ago that critique groups weren’t for me, unless I could join a group composed of, say, Barry Eisler, Tom Piccirilli and Stephen King. I just don’t see the benefits of having my work critiqued by people who don’t have any more experience than me.

Who is your favorite author?

It’s tough to limit myself to just one. I’m a huge fan of the three authors from above who form my imaginary critique group, as well as outstanding authors like Sophie Littlefield, Dave Zeltserman and Duane Swierczynski.

Do you have an agent or are you looking for one?

I’m currently un-agented, so Donald Maass, if you’re reading this, have your people call my people, maybe we can do lunch…

Was the road to publication smooth sailing or a bumpy ride?

I’m not sure too many authors would answer “smooth sailing” to this question! In many ways I’ve been more fortunate than some, who have written ten, fifteen, twenty years without managing to score a contract. But one thing anyone who wants to sell fiction becomes intimately familiar with is rejection. Between novel manuscripts and short stories, I would say I have chalked up well over two hundred rejections, probably closer to three hundred. JA Konrath says the difference between a published author and an unpublished author is persistence. I agree.

If you knew then, what you know now, is there anything you would have done differently?

Not really. We are all products of our experiences and even screwing up royally can represent the opportunity to learn and grow. Besides, until I get my own Hot Tub Time Machine, looking back is pointless.

Where can readers purchase a copy of your book?

Final Vector is available in ebook form for all ereaders, and can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, anywhere ebooks are sold.

Do you have a website and/or blog where readers can find out more?

Absolutely! My website is at http://www.allanleverone.com/ and my blog, A Thrill a Minute, is accessible from there as well. Also, anyone with a Facebook account can feel free to say hello to me there.

Do you have a video trailer to promote your book? If yes, where can readers find it?

I’m really excited about the Final Vector trailer. It’s available at my website, http://www.allanleverone.com/, as well as at my publisher’s website, http://www.medallionpress.com/, and also at Youtube, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86g7_negT8o, as well as any number of video sites where it has been distributed by COS Productions.

What is the best investment you have made in promoting your book?

I’m not sure I will really have an answer to that question for months, if ever. As a basically unknown debut novelist, I am well aware of the importance of increasing my visibility with readers around the country. I contracted with Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tours for a two-month blog tour and I suspect that will end up being my wisest investment in terms both of money and time spent promoting.

What is one piece of advice you would like to share with aspiring authors everywhere?

Keep writing! It’s kind of a cliché in the publishing business that no author really knows what he or she is doing until they’ve written at least a million words. I don’t know how true that is, but the point is a good one: The only way to improve at anything is to work at it, day after day, even when you don’t really feel like doing it.

My other piece of advice echoes what Joe Konrath says: Don’t give up. Persistence counts for a lot and if the manuscript you’re hawking today doesn’t work out, maybe the one you write tomorrow will.

What is up next for you?

Thanks for asking! I completed a traditional thriller late last year titled The Lonely Mile, for which I am actively pursuing publication. Also, I just completed the first draft of a horror/suspense novel tentatively titled Flicker that I’m very excited about, but that manuscript still needs a lot of tender loving care before it will be ready to be seen by anyone not named Al Leverone.

Is there anything you would like to add?

Yes, first I would like to invite feedback from anyone who spends their time, money and effort reading Final Vector. I truly appreciate your support and welcome any constructive comments, both positive and negative, regarding my work.

Secondly, thanks so much to The Book Connection for giving me the opportunity to connect with your readers!

Thanks for spending time with us today, Allan. We wish you much success.


Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Author Spotlight: Diana Gabladon, Author of Outlander

Claire Randall is leading a double life. She has a husband in one century, and a lover in another…


In 1945, Claire Randall, a former combat nurse, is back from the war and reunited with her husband on a second honeymoon–when she innocently touches a boulder in one of the ancient stone circles that dot the British Isles. Suddenly she is a Sassenach—an “outlander”—in a Scotland torn by war and raiding border clans in the year of our Lord…1743.

Hurled back in time by forces she cannot understand, Claire’s destiny in soon inextricably intertwined with Clan MacKenzie and the forbidden Castle Leoch. She is catapulted without warning into the intrigues of lairds and spies that may threaten her life …and shatter her heart. For here, James Fraser, a gallant young Scots warrior, shows her a passion so fierce and a love so absolute that Claire becomes a woman torn between fidelity and desire…and between two vastly different men in two irreconcilable lives.

Read an excerpt!

Jamie made a fire in a sheltered spot, and sat down next to it. The rain had eased to a faint drizzle that misted the air and spangled my eyelashes with rainbows when I looked at the flames.

He sat staring into the fire for a long time. Finally he looked up at me, hands clasped around his knees.
"I said before that I'd not ask ye things ye had no wish to tell me. And I'd not ask ye now; but I must know, for your safety as well as mine." He paused, hesitating.
"Claire, if you've never been honest wi' me, be so now, for I must know the truth. Claire, are ye a witch?"

I gaped at him. "A witch? You—you can really ask that?" I thought he must be joking. He wasn't.

He took me by the shoulders and gripped me hard, staring into my eyes as though willing me to answer him.
"I must ask it, Claire! And you must tell me!"

"And if I were?" I asked through dry lips. "If you had thought I were a witch? Would you still have fought for me?"

"I would have gone to the stake with you!" he said violently. "And to hell beyond, if I must. But may the Lord Jesus have mercy on my soul and on yours, tell me the truth!"

The strain of it all caught up with me. I tore myself out of his grasp and ran across the clearing. Not far, only to the edge of the trees; I could not bear the exposure of the open space. I clutched a tree; put my arms around it and dug my fingers hard into the bark, pressed my face to it and shrieked with hysterical laughter.

Jamie's face, white and shocked, loomed up on the other side of the tree. With the dim realization that what I was doing must sound unnervingly like cackling, I made a terrific effort and stopped. Panting, I stared at him for a moment.

"Yes," I said, backing away, still heaving with gasps of unhinged laughter. "Yes, I am a witch! To you, I must be. I've never had smallpox, but I can walk through a room full of dying men and never catch it. I can nurse the sick and breathe their air and touch their bodies, and the sickness can't touch me. I can't catch cholera, either, or lockjaw, or the morbid sore throat. And you must think it's an enchantment, because you've never heard of vaccine, and there's no other way you can explain it."

"The things I know—" I stopped backing away and stood still, breathing heavily, trying to control myself. "I know about Jonathan Randall because I was told about him. I know when he was born and when he'll die, I know about what he's done and what he'll do, I know about Sandringham because ... because Frank told me. He knew about Randall because he ... he ... oh, God!" I felt as though I might be sick, and closed my eyes to shut out the spinning stars overhead.

"And Colum ... he thinks I'm a witch, because I know Hamish isn't his own son. I know ... he can't sire children. But he thought I knew who Hamish's father is ... I thought maybe it was you, but then I knew it couldn't be, and..." I was talking faster and faster, trying to keep the vertigo at bay with the sound of my own voice.

"Everything I've ever told you about myself was true," I said, nodding madly as though to reassure myself. "Everything. I haven't any people, I haven't any history, because I haven't happened yet.

"Do you know when I was born?" I asked, looking up. I knew my hair was wild and my eyes staring, and I didn't care. "On the twentieth of October, in the Year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and eighteen. Do you hear me?" I demanded, for he was blinking at me unmoving, as though paying no attention to a word I said. "I said nineteen eighteen! Nearly two hundred years from now! Do you hear?"

I was shouting now, and he nodded slowly.

"I hear," he said softly.

"Yes, you hear!" I blazed. "And you think I'm raving mad. Don't you? Admit it! That's what you think. You have to think so, there isn't any other way you can explain me to yourself. You can't believe me, you can't dare to. Oh, Jamie..." I felt my face start to crumple. All this time spent hiding the truth, realizing that I could never tell anyone, and now I realized that I could tell Jamie, my beloved husband, the man I trusted beyond all others, and he wouldn't—he couldn't believe me either.

"It was the rocks—the fairy hill. The standing stones. Merlin's stones. That's where I came through." I was gasping, half-sobbing, becoming less coherent by the second. "Once upon a time, but it's really two hundred years. It's always two hundred years, in the stories. ... But in the stories, the people always get back. I couldn't get back." I turned away, staggering, grasping for support. I sank down on a rock, shoulders slumped, and put my head in my hands. There was a long silence in the wood. It went on long enough for the small night birds to recover their courage and start their noises once again, calling to each other with a thin, high zeek! as they hawked for the last insects of the summer.

I looked up at last, thinking that perhaps he had simply risen and left me, overcome by my revelations. He was still there, though, still sitting, hands braced on his knees, head bowed as though in thought.

The hairs on his arms shone stiff as copper wires in the firelight, though, and I realized that they stood erect, like the bristles on a dog. He was afraid of me.

"Jamie," I said, feeling my heart break with absolute loneliness. "Oh, Jamie."

I sat down and curled myself into a ball, trying to roll myself around the core of my pain. Nothing mattered any longer, and I sobbed my heart out.

His hands on my shoulders raised me, enough to see his face. Through the haze of tears, I saw the look he wore in battle, of struggle that had passed the point of strain and become calm certainty.

"I believe you," he said firmly. "I dinna understand it a bit—not yet—but I believe you. Claire, I believe you! Listen to me! There's the truth between us, you and I, and whatever ye tell me, I shall believe it." He gave me a gentle shake.

"It doesna matter what it is. You've told me. That's enough for now. Be still, mo duinne. Lay your head and rest. You'll tell me the rest of it later. And I'll believe you."

I was still sobbing, unable to grasp what he was telling me. I struggled, trying to pull away, but he gathered me up and held me tightly against himself, pushing my head into the folds of his plaid, and repeating over and over again, "I believe you."

At last, from sheer exhaustion, I grew calm enough to look up and say, "But you can't believe me."
He smiled down at me. His mouth trembled slightly, but he smiled.

"Ye'll no tell me what I canna do, Sassenach." He paused a moment. ... A long time later, he spoke.

"All right. Tell me now."

I told him. Told him everything, haltingly but coherently. I felt numb from exhaustion, but content, like a rabbit that has outrun a fox, and found temporary shelter under a log. It isn't sanctuary, but at least it is respite. And I told him about Frank.
"Frank," he said softly. "Then he isna dead, after all."

"He isn't born." I felt another small wave of hysteria break against my ribs, but managed to keep myself under control. "Neither am I."

He stroked and patted me back into silence, making his small murmuring Gaelic sounds.

"When I took ye from Randall at Fort William," he said suddenly, "you were trying to get back. Back to the stones. And ... Frank. That's why ye left the grove."
"Yes."

"And I beat you for it." His voice was soft with regret.

"You couldn't know. I couldn't tell you." I was beginning to feel very drowsy indeed.

"No, I dinna suppose ye could." He pulled the plaid closer around me, tucking it gently around my shoulders. "Do ye sleep now, mo duinne. No one shall harm ye; I'm here."

I burrowed into the warm curve of his shoulder, letting my tired mind fall through the layers of oblivion. I forced myself to the surface long enough to ask, "Do you really believe me, Jamie?"
He sighed, and smiled ruefully down at me.

"Aye, I believe ye, Sassenach. But it would ha' been a good deal easier if you'd only been a witch."

Excerpted from Outlander by Diana Gabaldon Copyright © 1991 by Diana Gabaldon. Excerpted by permission of Dell, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.


Read the reviews!

“Absorbing and heartwarming…lavishly evokes the land and lore of Scotland.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Stunning!”

—Los Angeles Daily News

“It is a large canvas that Gabaldon paints, filled with strong passions and derring-do. Strong willed and sensual, Claire is an engaging modern heroine plopped down in a simpler, more primitive time…. Great fun …marvelous and fantastic adventures, romance, sex …perfect escape reading!”

—San Francisco Chronicle

PURCHASE OUTLANDER BY DIANA GABALDON BY CLICKING HERE! ALSO AVAILABLE IN A KINDLE EDITION WITH BONUS CONTENT!



Diana Gabaldon is the author of the award-winning, #1 NYT-bestselling OUTLANDER novels, described by Salon magazine as “the smartest historical sci-fi adventure-romance story ever written by a science Ph.D. with a background in scripting “Scrooge McDuck” comics.”


The adventure began in 1991 with the classic OUTLANDER (“historical fiction with a Moebius twist”), has continued through six more New York Times-bestselling novels–DRAGONFLY IN AMBER, VOYAGER, DRUMS OF AUTUMN, THE FIERY CROSS, A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES, and AN ECHO IN THE BONE, with nineteen million copies in print worldwide.


The series is published in 26 countries and 23 languages, and includes a nonfiction (well, relatively) companion volume, THE OUTLANDISH COMPANION, which provides details on the settings, background, characters, research, and writing of the novels. Gabaldon (it’s pronounced “GAA-bull-dohn”—rhymes with “stone”) has also written several books in a sub-series featuring Lord John Grey (a major minor character from the main series): LORD JOHN AND THE PRIVATE MATTER, LORD JOHN AND THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE BLADE, and LORD JOHN AND THE HAND OF DEVILS. Another Lord John book, LORD JOHN AND THE SCOTTISH PRISONER, will probably be published in 2011).


Returning to her comic-book roots, she has also written a graphic novel titled THE EXILE (set within the OUTLANDER universe and featuring the main characters from OUTLANDER), but told from the viewpoint of Jamie Fraser and his godfather, Murtagh. The graphic novel is illustrated by Hoang Nguyen, published by Del-Rey.


Gabaldon is presently working on the third Lord John novel (LORD JOHN AND THE SCOTTISH PRISONER), and the eighth book in the OUTLANDER series. In addition, she is working on a contemporary mystery series, set in Phoenix, and has written Highly Scholarly Introductions (with masses of footnotes) to recent Modern Library editions of Sir Walter Scott’s IVANHOE and Thomas Paine’s COMMON SENSE.


Dr. Gabaldon holds three degrees in science: Zoology, Marine Biology, and Quantitative Behavioral Ecology, (plus an honorary degree as Doctor of Humane Letters, which entitles her to be “Diana Gabaldon, Ph.D., D.H.L.” She supposes this is better than “Diana Gabaldon, Phd.X,”) and spent a dozen years as a university professor with an expertise in scientific computation before beginning to write fiction. She has written scientific articles and textbooks, worked as a contributing editor on the MacMillan ENCYCLOPEDIA OF COMPUTERS, founded the scientific-computation journal SCIENCE SOFTWARE QUARTERLY, and has written numerous comic-book scripts for Walt Disney. None of this has anything whatever to do with her novels, but there it is.


She and her husband, Douglas Watkins, have three adult children and live mostly in Scottsdale, Arizona.


You can visit Diana online at www.DianaGabaldon.com.

Monday, February 14, 2011

NY Times Best Selling Author Mary Burton's 2011 Valentine’s Day Recipe


Merciless Peanut Butter Brownies - Love at First Bite

Brownie Batter

½ cup (1 stick) of butter
1 cup of cocoa
1 teaspoon of brandy
2 cups of sugar
½ teaspoon salt
4 eggs
1 egg yolk

Filling:

1/3 cup of peanut butter
1/3 cup confectioner’s sugar
1 teaspoon brandy

Topping:

8 oz of melting chocolate

Melt butter and pour over cocoa in a mixing bowl. Add in brandy, sugar and salt. Mix in eggs and yolk. Set batter aside and mix together peanut butter and confectioner’s sugar. Form into balls. Evenly spread half the batter in a baking pan. Arrange peanut butter balls on batter. Cover with remaining batter. Bake for 35 minutes. When the brownies have cooled pour melted chocolate over them and let set. Slice and enjoy!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

You can visit Mary Burton online at http://maryburton.com/index.htm!