Archive for September 10, 2015

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Welcome to my stop on the tour for Hit And Run. I have a wonderful guest post from the author and a fun excerpt to share with you.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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Author Lori Power is here with a fascinating Guest Post about character creation.

When writing, for me, characters quickly take on a life of their own. In building the bones of the story, I may start with one idea of what I would like to see them do, but as I set their personality down on paper, this quickly changes to the point where the characters ‘lead’ me where they would actually go. The moment I try to force a scene—that is the time I block. The passage won’t work no matter how much I push for it to happen. As soon as I cut the problem, search the depths and examine the situation, often the characters will take me in the direction they need to go and flow resumes.

For instance, early in writing Mitch, his skanky behaviour was questioned by my beta readers. Did I really want him to be that blatant? Shouldn’t I tone it down a bit? One told me she just didn’t like him and wouldn’t read further.

Okay.

But as soon as I tried to ‘tone it down’ as it were, I lost of the essence of who he was. He was already a strong, tenacious, good-looking guy with a job he thrived in. His character flaw was his questionable relationships. As an established personality, he was who he was and made no excuses and in writing Mitch, I couldn’t do him justice without showing this side of him. As I moved through the story, he then carried himself potently into each scene, a well-rounded personality worthy of his devotion to the woman he loves. In allowing him to develop as he would, not forced by me, I feel the readers sees the vital changes in him, from his own point of view.

Lorna’s character developed from mesh of a lot of women I interviewed—every day, successful women—who had ‘encounters’ in their lives, which couldn’t help but shape them. But they never wore it on their sleeve. These incidents didn’t define them. It allowed them to face the struggle and tap into the resources of strength from within. These women all gave off the impression of seeming to glide through life effortlessly. Little would someone know from looking from the outside what they face on the inside to achieve this. The women are the proof of the saying everyone has a story to tell—and a good story at that!

Opposite to Mitch’s ‘love it or live with it’ attitude, Lorna presented a complicated mixture of privacy and perception. She’s layered and exposure will only happen over time. She’s a woman who finds herself often in situations despite her best efforts to steer clear. In writing Lorna, I had to always be aware of her private side and only reveal what she is comfortable revealing to this point.

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Hit ‘N Run

Under Suspicion Book One

by Lori Power

HitNRun cover 2

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Synopsis

Determined to build a better life, and forget their past, a freak accident crashes Lorna Tymchuk and Mitch Morgan back into each other’s lives.

It’s more than a “Hit ’n Run” that needs to be taken care of at the police station. False identification, miscommunication and a past better left buried surface to plunge these recently reunited lovers into a deadly game of cat and mouse trying to figure out who the bad guys really are.

All threads pulled threaten the very fabric of their fragile relationship. Caught between desire suspicions, each must decide who to trust and how far to go to follow their instincts.

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Check out this glimpse inside the book!

“And the driver of the hearse just drove off?”

The question of why bother to complete a report if the officer was just going to recap every point, by point, blinked like a neon sign behind her lids. “No, as I wrote, right here.” She pointed to another neatly printed line on the statement. “The man got out to see if I was okay. . .”

The policeman rested an elbow on the counter and smirked. “Nice of him.”

“I guess,” she agreed, forcing a lift to her lips, putting on her best salesman face. “Listen, the man left me his driver’s license. Said an emergency called him away.”

“Emergencies can happen in the funeral business, I imagine.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers, brow furrowed. ‘so, a polite runner then?”

Inhaling deeply, Lorna forged on. “I want to talk to you about that, actually.”

The constable stared, barely blinking, so she blurted. “It’s a fake.”

“What’s a fake?”

“The driver’s license,” she confirmed through tight lips.

“How would you know?”

“I didn’t recognize him at first with the beard and everything.” Oh, God, she was rambling. Get a grip. Lorna took a shaky breath. “I know–once knew–the driver I hit. His name is Mitchell Morgan, not Michael Ward as is written here. The picture on this license,” she said moving her own hand to cover the license on the counter, “is him, but that’s not his name. This,” she paused to tap the document with her fingernail, “is a fake.”

“How can you be sure?” His murky brown eyes met hers, clearly skeptical.

She glanced at the picture again, the tips of her fingers still touching the edge of the laminated surface. How could she explain the fact she would never be able to forget Mitchell Morgan’s midnight-blue eyes? Those same expression-filled eyes with just a hint of mischief couldn’t be disguised. “I’m sure.”

HitNRun cover

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Author Lori Power

HitNRun author

Turning passion into words in print is a dream come true for Lori Power.

From Radio host (best job ever!), DJ, news reporter to newspaper journalist, like many author’s, Lori has been writing most of her life.

In writing, Lori has discovered a truism: everyone has a great story to tell. All you need to do is listen. Over the years, with all the people Lori has meet previously and daily, both professionally and personally, with an ear to the ground, readers can often find these ‘character’s’ fictionalized in Lori’s stories.

Lori’s first novel “Storms of Passion” was published by Wild Rose Press under their Champagne line, in 2014 and received a 5-star Author’s Favourite seal of approval in 2015.

Collaboration is important to improving one’s craft and as such, Lori is an active member of the Romance Writers of America, TransCanada Romance Writers, The Alberta Romance Writers Association and belongs to both a Critiquing group and a Beta Reading weekly group.

Lori looks forward to continuing to find the good story; hashing out a scene, having fun with a character and writing the story she would love to read.

Amazon Author Page

Amazon Buy Link

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Extraordinary Days new banner copy

I have a wonderful series to share with you today.

Polly Beck’s The Extraordinary Days Series.

Enjoy the excerpt.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Extraordinary Days new ThursdaysChild_Cover Large

Genre: Romance / Mystery / Thriller

NOTE: A percentage of the sales of this book will be donated to Children’s International, a not-for-profit organization very close to the author’s family’s heart. Past books in the series have benefited The American Red Cross, The American Cancer Society, Tuesday’s Children [a 9/11 charity], and The Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.

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Synopsis

A mystery is introduced in No Ordinary Day, the first book in the Extraordinary Days series that is carried through all eight volumes and solved in the last book, Sunday’s Child: Born on the Sabbath Day, due out in January of 2017.

In the late spring of 1991, a flood and fire of historic proportions tore through the pretty resort town of Obergrande, New York, in the central region of the Adirondack mountains.

The twin disasters destroyed a large part of the east side of the town that bordered the Hudson River and Lake Obergrande.

In the aftermath, a new dam was built, and that damaged part of the town “drowned,” covered by the new, larger lake.

During that terrible flood, five kindergarten girls were trapped in their drowning school, huddled together as the water rose higher, rescued just in the nick of time. The nightmare bonded them, and three others like them, to each other for life.

These are their stories.

Extraordinary Days new ThursdaysChild_Cover Large

 

International attorney and human rights advocate Elisa Santiago believes she has life under control—an impressive career, a solid group of friends in Obergrande, and a handsome law partner for hot “car action” when she needs release. Little does she know that her entire world is about to burn down when she discovers that nothing she believes she knows about herself and

her past is true. Can the gorgeous former CIA operative, acting as her guide and guard as she returns to Colombia, the land of her birth, looking for answers, set her world on fire in a good way?

 

THURSDAY’S CHILD: Far to Go is the fifth book in the eight-book series The Extraordinary Days by breakthrough novelist Polly Becks. The first book, No Ordinary Day, tells the tale of an epic tragedy that changes life forever in a small town in the wild, mystic Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York, and the mystery surrounding that tragedy.

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Enjoy this excerpt

Present day, Sunday, September 8th, 2:11 PM

Le Mille Neuf, 1009 Rue de Bleury, penthouse, Montreal

 

The young man at the front desk in the luxury apartment building looked up in surprise at the quartet of women making their way across the lobby, carrying what looked like a variety of flowers, sweets, and boxes, chatting happily amongst themselves as every male head in the lobby turned in their direction.

An older man in the uniform of a professional driver or chauffeur was following them, his arms piled high with packages, puffing slightly.

The women, who were carrying on an intense four-way conversation between them, did not notice the attention they were garnering like magnets. They ranged in height from just over five feet to just under six, with a variety of body types, hair and skin colors ranging from alabaster to ebony, and clothing styles, all of which had some sort of bright artistry to them.

They stopped in front of the desk.

The tallest of the group, a fair-skinned beauty with gray eyes and shoulder-length brown hair atop a tall, willowy figure, smiled down at him.

“Penthouse deux, s’il vous plait,” she said politely in a perfect French accent.

The young man slid his swivel chair quickly under the desk to shield his lap from view.

“Qui appelle?” he asked in a French-Canadian accent. “Er—whom shall I say is calling?” He picked up the phone.

“The—uhm—Fivesome,” Briony Windsor, known as Sarah to her friends, said.

The young man waited for an answer, requested permission for entry and, receiving it, directed the four women to the penthouse elevator, only to discover they had started across the back lobby while he was hanging up.

They already knew where they were going.

“Has anyone heard from Sloane’s father recently?” Dr. Corinne Byrnes, a veterinarian and the second-tallest member of the group asked the others as they entered the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor.

“I spoke to him last night,” said Reverend Grace Fuller, the Associate Pastor of the Obergrande Community Church back in New York State. “He says she seems to be doing better, as long as she rests. Apparently he hasn’t been entirely successful at keeping her in bed.”

“Shocker,” mused Elisa Santiago, esq., a practicing attorney and civil rights advocate who divided her time between law on the international stage and a quiet practice back in Obergrande, the pretty Adirondack hometown of the four young women and the friend they had come to visit. At five-foot-three, she was petite, like Grace, and extraordinarily well put-together, every detail of her wardrobe perfect, just as every detail of her business and personal life seemed to be.

“Well, between us we have plenty of things to keep her amused in bed,” said Briony. “Although that’s like selling ice to penguins; Sloane has made of art of being kept amused in bed most of her life.”

“Truth,” mused Corinne as the elevator doors opened, providing a stunning view of downtown Montreal and its exquisite spires.

The four women hurried down the sunlit hallway of windows to the door where the number 2 was elegantly displayed.

Elisa pushed the doorbell.

A tall, strapping, dark-haired man with a finely-featured, neatly-bearded face opened the door a moment later.

All four women blinked in surprise.

“Dr. Marlowe?” Elisa’s voice broke the silence.

The man’s dark blue eyes blinked as well.

“Come in, ladies,” he said quickly.

The women looked at each other, then followed him into the penthouse.

“What’s he doing here?” Grace whispered to Briony. “Sloane told me they couldn’t stand each other.” Briony shrugged.

“Perhaps they’re working on the Quadricentennial?” Elisa suggested as they passed through the elegant central foyer into the open living area, a high-ceilinged room ringed with floor-to-ceiling windows.

She turned to Corinne, the only one not to have met Nathan Marlowe. “He’s a world-class history professor here at McGill and in New York at NYU, a specialist in the Adirondack Park

area and particularly in Obergrande. Sloane’s mother hired him to do the authentication and other research for the town’s four-hundredth anniversary next May.”

“Well, if her mother likes him, I can see why Sloane can’t stand him,” said Corinne. “Those two can’t agree on whether the sun is up or not.”

Dr. Marlowe was standing at the far left edge of the open sitting area, next to the door that led to Sloane’s bedroom suite.

The women and their driver, still lugging their packages, followed him.

A glorious spicy smell filled the air near the kitchen.

On their way past a recessed alcove in which a towering animal cage stood, Corinne paused and clicked softly at the sweet, melon-sized animal inside it.

“Hiya, Pfeffernusse,” she said. “You’re lookin’ good, gurrl.”

Ed Hillenbrandt, the driver, waited until she was following the other girls again, then paused in front of the cage himself.

“I still say you would make a nice hat,” he whispered.

Pfeffernusse just stared at him with her big black chinchilla eyes. Then she flicked her large ears and spun around, her white belly disappearing from view as she turned her gray-blue back to him.

“You’re not by any means the first female to give me the cold shoulder, ma’am,” Ed said as he went to join the women.

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Author Polly Becks

Polly Becks has been making her living writing for more than twenty years, as well as working as an editor, curriculum developer, and teaching secondary-school Spanish. She has more than 350 books to her credit, mostly educational materials, as well as professionally published fiction in both the adult and YA market in a variety of genres, plus more than 30 Children’s books. She is excited about exploring the digital literature frontier and is honored to be the launch series for GMLTJoseph, LLC. – See more at: http://www.pollybecks.com/author/#sthash.pEZ6f3xO.dpuf

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Buy Polly’s Books

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Click on the banner below to follow the tour and comment.

The more you comment, the more chances to win!

Goddess Fish Promotions

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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Looking for something to read now that the holidays are fast approaching?

Here’s a quickie that’ll wet your appetite. And it’s free!

Scroll down for an excerpt and how to get your copy.

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A message and excerpt from Anthony Renfro

There it is. The brand new cover for A Zombie Thanksgiving. I know it isn’t the holidays yet, but now is the time to grab yourself a free copy. I want to thank Pixabay for the image and Empire of the Claw for the font. I also want to send a special shout out to Laura for the Beta Read. Okay, here is the new intro. Hope you enjoy it.

Dawn stopped at the edge of the parking lot. What she saw in front of her was an apocalyptic nightmare. It was a picture of mass panic frozen in a time of chaos.

The parking lot looked like a war zone–cars burned to metal bodies, cars crashed together, cars turned over, shopping carts everywhere and in all kinds of positions, (food and supplies in these carts long since looted), and bodies, lots and lots of dead bodies. Most of them had been laying out here rotting in the hot sun for far too long, and they were now decayed and gooey, slipping back into the Earth one second at a time.

She closed her eyes, held the gold cross on a chain around her neck, prayed, and then crossed the parking lot.

She stopped when she reached the double doors that led into the grocery store. Sunlight gleamed off what was left of the glass in the frame, shards on the ground twinkled like stars. Two zombies shuffled out of the store, heading in her tasty direction. Dead things. Rotten things. Been walking around for a long time now as a corpse things. A couple of quick pops of her gun and both of them went down hard. Perfect, clean, head shots. Blood splattered ground.

Dawn looked to her left and right, back to the store in front of her, and then she turned around to make sure nothing was behind her. No other zombies shuffled about in the late fall heat, at least not from where she was standing; but there was a man, she did see a man, coming across the parking lot towards her. He stood about medium height, not too pudgy, not too thin. He had to be about 40 years old, she thought, as he put his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Who are you?” She asked, as she aimed her gun at him.

The guy looked down at her gun with the silencer on it, pointed directly at his gut. A nasty shot that would not end him instantly. “My name’s Mike, Mike Beem. You?”

“Dawn Sprig,” she replied, and paused. “Have you been following me?”

“I haven’t, just happened to see you crossing the parking lot. Thought I would walk over and see if you needed any help.”

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, because she was terrified of being out here on her own without her boyfriend. So, she faked it the best she could. “Just need to do a little shopping. I hope my credit is still good,” she replied, smiling, hoping to ease the tension.

“Store’s probably picked over.”

“Probably, but there might be something left for the Thanksgiving Holiday,” she replied, lowering her weapon.

“I’m stuck on Christmas.”

“Any luck?”

“Some.” He paused. “You sure you don’t want me to go in with you? I can help if the store is overrun. Always nice to have back up.”

She wanted to say yes, she really did, but even though she had lowered her gun, stranger danger still popped into her mind when she looked at him. He might seem like a nice guy out here, but in there, in the dark, he could be someone totally different. “I’d rather go it alone. If you don’t mind? I’m better that way. No offense.”

“None taken. I Understand.”

“Thanks, though, for the offer.”

“Sure. Good luck and Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too, Mike.”

He made his way out of the parking lot, and Dawn took another quick scan. No zombies about, just Mike evaporating into the distance. She turned back to the store, steadied her nerves, and turned on her light (this light was on a strap that ran around her head, so she could keep her hands free).  She made sure her weapons were ready to do the job they were meant to do, knife in place and gun ready to fire. She started to walk, ever so slightly, crunching on broken glass, moving from the light into the dark.

The smell inside the store wasn’t pleasant. All kinds of putrid things in a state of decay mingled and danced together in the non-air-conditioned air. Those smells were having a nice party in this tight enclosed airless space. Dawn tried to hold her breath and not breathe in too much of it, as she stopped just inside the double doors. She kneeled down in front of two bodies that were dead, flat, and squished. These bodies (elderly man and woman) looked like they had fallen down and nobody had bothered to help them up as the crowd trampled over them in a mad rush for supplies. She said a prayer for them, and then stood up. That’s when she heard it. It was a clicking sound, silent electronic keys being punched over and over again, hard to hear unless you were inside the store. She turned her light in the direction of that sound.

A quick note. Mike, the man Dawn bunps into in the parking lot, appears in A Zombie Christmas. He has quite a story to tell too.

Get A Zombie Thanksgiving free at the links below or anywhere Amazon is available.

Amazon: US / UK / AU / CA

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My Review

They say the holidays are no longer celebrated because of the zombie apocalypse.

Try telling that to Dawn. All she wants is to bring a little bit of normalcy into their lives. To remind them they are human, that they are still alive, that there is hope.

Guns and knife in hand, Dawn sets off to the grocery store to see if she can find a turkey. I know, this sounds nuts. But people get desperate for the old days, the easy days.

As Dawn stumbles over dead bodies and crashed, abandoned vehicles, she inevitably runs across some shufflers. She takes care of them coldly, efficiently. This is the new way of life.

Meanwhile, back at the safe place, George is handed a note by another survivor in their group. It appears Dawn has left to get food. Fool girl. Doesn’t she know there are zombies out there. What is so important she’d risk this by herself?

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but somehow the author had me feeling the warmth of Thanksgiving. Even As Dawn and George fought off the ravenous zombies that want them for dinner.

Dawn’s fierce determination has me adding her to my list of top female protagonists. She’s not going to stop until she finds that bird!

And George is just as determined. Determined to find Dawn and get her safely back where she belongs. All limbs attached. I liked how his initial frustration turned to alpha male, to lover, as he set out to find her.

I had my fingers and toes crossed for these two. The ending was not set in stone just because it’s Thanksgiving. Maybe the zombies got a nice dinner. Nobody told them they don’t celebrate the holiday.

5 Stars

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Until the next time….

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