Guest Post: SEARCH LIGHT by Annette O'Hare

 

My guest today is Annette O’Hare, an award-winning author of   inspirational romance from a bygone era. Her love for preserving history shines through in her novels. Drawing on her background in drama and comedic sketch writing, Annette desires to reveal the love of God to her readers while hopefully giving them something to smile about. She and husband Dan live in Southeast Texas and enjoy spending time with family, RVing, and saltwater fishing.

Annette's latest release is SEARCH LIGHT, is a Bolivar Lighthouse inspirational historical.

Read the blurb!

     In 1942, Women’s Army Corporal, Pauline Lopez is on duty atop the Bolivar Point Lighthouse. Her job: to spot German submarines in the Gulf of Mexico responsible for sinking supply ships bound for the U.S. When Pauline reports enemy activity, the call is deemed a false alarm, soiling her military reputation.
     Pauline meets Army Air Corps pilot, Captain Frank Chessher at a USO dance. Frank believes Pauline’s story, but the next time she reports enemy activity, no one believes her. 
      Will Frank hear her mayday call and come to her rescue, or will she become another casualty of war?

Read an excerpt:

    Mary Ellen was right. No sane person would risk coming anywhere near the Texas Gulf Coast
with the fortifications of the United States behind it. And yet somehow, freighters were still being sunk or damaged and their crewmen injured or even killed by enemy fire.
    A glint of light flashed from the water. Pauline jumped to attention and raised the binoculars to get a better look. “Oh, my goodness.” She adjusted the focus wheel making the object appear crisper through the eyepieces. She turned to her friend.
    “What is it now?” Mary Ellen’s devil may care manner annoyed Pauline.
    “Come here. I need you to see this.”
    Mary Ellen’s shoulders drooped; her head dipped to the side. “Really?”
    Pauline pleaded with her eyes. “Yes, really!”
    “All right.” Mary Ellen groaned and rose from the floor with the speed of a wounded tortoise.
    “Would you please hurry?”
    “Okay, okay.”
    Pauline took the binocular strap from around her neck and handed them to Mary Ellen. She pointed out the window. “Look down there, directly to the south. It’s in the water just west of Fort Travis.”
    “It’s pitch black. I can’t see a thing. What am I looking for?”
    “In the water close to shore. Can’t you see it?”
    Mary Ellen sighed. “No. What… Hey, wait a minute.”
    “Do you see it now?”
    “Yes.” Mary Ellen giggled and continued looking through the binoculars. “Oh, boy, those guys are going to be in a heap of trouble.”
    “What? Give me those.” Pauline yanked the eyeglasses from her hands.
    “Hey!”
    Pauline took another look, confirming what she’d seen before, and lowered the binoculars.         
    “What do you think you’re seeing? Because I see a rubber raft full of men, rowing toward Galveston Island.”
    “Calm down, Pauline.”
    “How can I calm down when we’ve just spotted the main thing, we were warned to keep a look out for? What is wrong with you?” Pauline trembled.
     Mary Ellen grasped her friend’s forearms to steady her. “Come on now. You need to get a grip on yourself.” She gave her a reassuring gaze. “Now listen to me. I don’t want either one of us looking like a couple of fools for calling this in. It looks to me like a bunch of kids out on a jaunt. You know how kids are. School is out, and they’re all up to no good.” Mary Ellen giggled. “They probably stole their pop’s raft. So, what do you say, can’t we just let this one go?”
    Pauline steeled her body, willing away the shuddering inside her. She ripped her arms away from Mary Ellen’s grip on her. “I can’t believe you. This is a matter of national security.”
    Raising her hands, Mary Ellen backed away, she puffed out her chest.  “Look, I just don’t want you getting called on the carpet by the Little Colonel for reporting mischievous schoolboys having a little fun on a nice summer night.”
    Chatter crackled over the two-way radio, drawing their attention. Pauline picked up the handset from the floor and started for the door. The long cord trailed behind her. “I’m going back out to get a better look.”
    “Suit yourself.”

Follow the links below to learn more: 

On The Web:      www.annetteohare.com

On Amazon:       https://amzn.to/3opcru1

On B&N:             https://bit.ly/44dfLbL

On PBG:             https://bit.ly/46zmY7G

On FB:                https://www.facebook.com/annetteohareauthor/

On Twitter:         https://twitter.com/AnnetteOHare

On Pinterest:     https://www.pinterest.com/annetteohare/

The First Time

That's little Penny. I made this sketch when I was in my early twenties, but that's how I saw myself as a kid--a skinny klutz. Notice the bandage on my shin and the scraped knee.

One summer, at the age of nine, I decided to write a book. It was a very short book. I used green ink on yellow legal paper and added illustrations. Not many people have seen it. Today it would be considered a paranormal romance--mostly because in the story the protagonist could fly. If I was able to fly at that point, maybe I wouldn't have had so many scraped knees and other injuries from tripping over my own pigeon-toed feet.

I enjoyed every moment of writing that story. That is what got me hooked on writing. Still,  I had other things to do as well--like get an education, work, get married, and raise children.

I knew, even as a youngster, that my writing would probably not be profitable--at least, not for a while.

So as the years went by, I was often too busy to write, though sometimes I wrote poetry in desperation because the urge to put words down on paper and express myself remained strong. However, my poetry was horrible--or at least when I handed it in as an assignment, the instructors wrote all over it and thoroughly discouraged me because I was not brave enough yet to believe in myself.

Courage is a necessary part of writing but it took a long time for me to develop that type of confidence.

Nurturing my children reignited all my creative juices. I read a book on smuggling as I nursed the baby at my breast. Suddenly, I had a whole novel running around in my head--and it kept clamoring to be let out.

It wasn't until my youngest turned four that the book I had been holding inside for quite a while refused to wait any longer. I was about to return to work in September. If I was going to write a book, I figured it was now or never. I set up my old manual typewriter on the dining room table and I typed out the story--page after page piled up.

Truthfully, writing in a great rush was like flying. It consumed me. I lived in the story and only came up for air to feed the family and tend to laundry. It took me two months to reach the end.

Then we went on a camping vacation and hubby took the time to read my story. He was surprised. "Where'd you learn to write like that?" he asked.

The truth was that I had a rough draft in my hands and it took a long, long time for that book to be published. However, by then I had acquired the necessary determination to survive endless rejections.

Writing is a tough business which requires the same kind of tenacity as a superhero, but writing a story is better than a magic carpet ride. Well, it was for me and still is.

That's why I write.

Too Many Distractions?

I am the kid in the middle, holding the baby--my sister--and pointing to the picture in the book. My brother is holding the book. I am wearing a lovely dress and my brother is missing a few teeth. 😁 My sister is looking at the books on the shelf. We always had plenty of books and since Dad was a journalist, we had lots of newspapers, too.

There were fewer diversions in those days. Maybe that's why more people read books and wrote letters. Yes, we had a television, but we did not have 200 channels. Every summer some tubes in the television would burn out and my mother refused to get it repaired until September. So we caught lightning bugs and roasted marshmallows on the beach and we read books, and wrote stuff.

When I was several years older than I am in the photo above, my brother and I built a treehouse one summer. A tree by the southeast corner of our house featured a triple trunk, which made designing the treehouse easy. From scraps of lumber we put together a rather rudimentary structure. My brother did most of the actual construction. He wielded a hammer better than I did. I straightened out the bent nails we gathered to use for our building.

Eventually, the treehouse was finished. There wasn’t much to it—a floor, a simple railing, and a roof. We didn’t have any paint. The wood quickly turned to a weathered gray color.

Once it was done, my brother busied himself with another project. He was more of a doer. I was the dreamer. So the treehouse became my private domain where I would sit, gaze out at the lake, and make up stories without being bothered by distractions--like my younger sisters. 🙂

Life was simpler and there seemed to be more time for everything.

Today, everyone is so busy! There are people who don't read a single book in an entire year. There are people who never write a letter and have given up sending cards. There are so many forms of entertainment vying for their attention that books and writing are altogether forgotten.

I find that very sad.

Going, Going...Gone

My mother was always passionate about art. She painted or sketched every day. However, after my brother died her will to paint vanished for a time. It eventually returned but in the meantime she began to collect things. 

I remember well the first garage sale I went to with Mom. We stood in a crowd of people gathered outside a one car garage early one morning. When the garage door opened, everyone rushed in to see what was for sale. Mom headed for the Depression Glass. She loved the beautiful colors and patterns--remembering it from her youth when the pieces were handed out at movie theaters. 

She became very knowledgeable about the glass and gathered quite an enviable collection of it. She also decided to buy some other antiques. She loved beautiful, old things. 

Soon, Mom and another woman decided to go into business with an antique shop. They did well for a time and Mom enjoyed interacting with customers, but eventually there was a disagreement between Mom and the other woman and so the store closed.

Then Mom displayed her wares at a booth in an antique center, but as she aged that got to be too much for her and she put her lovely things on display in a small case in another antique store closer to home. However, even that became too much of a chore as she became frail. An auctioneer sold off most of her collection of Depression glass. But several large pieces of furniture she did not need and a lot of boxes cluttered up the basement.

We contacted the same auctioneer who liquidated her Depression Glass and he set up a date for an auction of my mother's stuff. He took the Victorian rocker, the old-fashioned washstand, the oak server and china cabinet along with a number of ceramic pieces. My mother was extremely apprehensive about the sale.

The evening before the auction, she had trouble breathing and went to the hospital. She had water in her lungs. Nevertheless, she wanted hubby and I to go to the auction. We did. It was a bittersweet experience to see my mother's treasures on display and it was at times disturbing to discover that some of the things I always considered most valuable went for so little. On the other hand, some items fetched a surprising amount.

In general, the antique furniture did not sell for much. Nevertheless, Mom did have some Hess toy trucks, some Roseville china, a bit of sterling, and one very old souvenir from the 1851 World's Fair which attracted some interesting bidding.

Mom got out of the hospital just as the auction was ending. She was pleased with the total amount of the sale, though disappointed that some of her things did not make more money.

Still, she told me, "See, you should save everything." 

After she died, the process of cleaning out the house was overwhelming and we needed help. For a long time after she died, I couldn't deal with walking into an antique store because I would invariably see some of the things Mom loved so much. 

Of course, when it comes to collecting I have way too many books. I make small attempts to cull the collection at times, but it's difficult. For the most part, the books aren't antiques or even collectibles but I just happen to love them. Sigh. 

The Village Hardware Store

     A long time ago, our town was considered a village. There was a bank, a small post office, bookstore, a small library, a hardware store, a luncheonette, a church, a grocery store, a historic inn, and a beauty parlor.
     The area of the town remains the same, but since we moved here several housing developments went up. The road going through town is always busy. The historic inn was demolished and a large restaurant replaced it. Many other businesses were added. Some concerned citizens managed to save one small plot of land from development and that became our village green--but otherwise this isn't a village anymore. 

     Of all the things I miss about our little village, I miss the hardware store most of all. The owner of the hardware store always had whatever we needed--even in small quantities, and since all the houses back then had been built by the same developer, he had plenty of advice on how to fix a problem. 

     The hardware store was less than a mile from our house. When one of our daughters accidentally broke a pane of glass on the door, I went to the hardware store and got a piece of glass in exactly the right size. I put it in place before hubby came home from work. 

     When a friend's child accidentally put a hole in the sheetrock, I got what I needed from the hardware store and had the hole patched before hubby walked in the door. I did such a great job, he didn't even notice the repair. 

     I never could manage using hubby's old, worn-out Phillips screwdriver, so I bought one at the hardware store with nice, raised rubber grips on the handle. Hubby has since confiscated it. 😂

     Progress is good and we can still drive to a huge place like Lowe's or Home Depot, but it was nice to get individual attention and help from someone who knew exactly what was needed for the job. 

 💗

     

 

Bargains On Books In June!

Starting on June 1st, Amazon has chosen over 100 Pelican Book Group titles to be included in a combination of June Kindle Daily Deals or Kindle Monthly Deals.The discount on monthly deals will be set at ALL retailers. Three of my books have been chosen for the Monthly Kindle Deals. ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN, DADDY WANTED, AND PATRIOT'S PRIDE will be on sale for the month for $1.99. 

In addition,  many of the other Pelican Book Group titles will be on sale. So you'll be able to save money and stock up a bunch of books to read this summer. 😁 What fun! 

I Grow Stories, Not Plants

If I were a farmer, I would starve. So far this year, my chives, oregano, peppermint, and lavender are doing well. They must be hardy plants. I gave up growing tomato plants years ago because I would need an eight foot high fence to protect them from the deer. This year, deer ate the shoots of the allium bulbs I planted in the fall.

However, deer are not my only problem. I have a brown thumb. Either there's too much shade or not enough. Either there's too much water or not enough. Maybe the soil is anemic and needs fertilizer or maybe I need to mulch.

I work well with words, but plants are impossible. If I type a story and save it, the document stays in the same place, ready to greet me the next time I open it. If I dig a hole, drop in a plant, and water it, it dies or gets eaten.

My sister, the horticulturist, gave me a flowering plant, Bouncing Bet. She thinks I may not be able to kill it. The flowers resemble phlox, but Bouncing Bet is an invasive weed. This is great. Invasive weeds survive on whatever rain falls on them. They don't need fertilizer and flourish in nutritionally deficient soil.

I found some interesting information about bouncing bet online. (Check it out here.) The plant is toxic. The deer should get a tummy ache. Perhaps they'll avoid my yard. Then I can spend less time outside trying to make things grow and more time writing.

Growing stories is fun.

ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN Giveaway!

One hundred copies of the ebook edition of ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN will be given away on Goodreads. There are 9 more days before the giveaway ends. Sign up now and take a chance on winning a terrific story!

Here's the link for the giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61944010-angel-of-the-l-train

True Love

Above are my maternal grandparents in 1975. They are sitting on a seat from an old automobile on their backporch. Married in 1919 (you can see their wedding photo HERE), they spent fifty-nine years together and had seven children. My grandfather was a coal miner, but he did some farming, too. My grandfather died in 1978 at the age of 86, despite black lung and a few heart attacks. My grandmother died in 1990.

They argued all the time. 😊 My grandmother was the most lovable woman I ever met, but she could be feisty, too. When my grandfather kept insisting they did not need a new stove, she decided to go on strike and refused to cook. Eventually, my grandfather gave in and Grandma got a new stove.

They had plenty of trouble in their fifty-nine years of marriage, but they stuck together and worked things out. That's true love.

2.2 Million Words!

 

     The New Jersey Romance Writers  met last weekend in person for the first time in three years. It was a big celebration marking the 2.2 million words written by the members of the group in February of this year. Every February NJRW provides the JeRoWriMo challenge for each individual author to write 30,000 words in that month. It's like NaNoWriMo but less stressful since it is 20,000 words less than NaNoWriMo AND it occurs in a month without Thanksgiving or holiday preparations. In fact, February's best holiday is Valentine's Day! What could be a better incentive than to write about love in the month of love. 

💗💗💗💗💗

     Those who finished the challenge received a pin to commemorate their success. Everyone who took on the challenge got chocolate, whether or not they reached the goal. Some of us also received pins to mark how many times we've joined in and triumphed. I received a pin for doing this five times. 

     Nancy Herkness started this event many years ago. However, she does have help because it is a big job. There are cheerleaders who urge us on every day. There are those who add up the numbers. Plus we have someone who likes to make chocolates! 

     Every author needs a nudge to get writing now and then. JeRoWriMo is a sweet way to do just that. 

💗💗💗💗💗

Spring Cleaning

Every year in April, our parish's youth group hosts a rummage sale in the gym. April is the perfect time to hold a rummage sale when spring cleaning is in full swing. 

We donate to the sale, but try not to buy anything. In the past, we've donated some large items. So, it's always nice to walk into the sale and see that the things we donated aren't there anymore. 😊

This year, the majority of our donations came from Daughter #2 who is still eliminating things from her former room in our house. But hubby also parted with his old jigsaw, which he hasn't used in approximately ten years. We also got rid of two bikes: one very old English racer and one nice ten-speed which is missing the seat. We decided we ought to pump up the tires before we donated the bikes. However, we discovered our very old bike pump didn't work anymore. We went to Walmart and bought another for only $9.96. The original pump cost $6.98. Of course, we didn't get a fancy pump. We got an old style one quite similar to the one we had. 

Hubby asked me this morning if we can donate anything else. We should. But I find I have emotional attachments to some items and it's difficult to let them go. I'll give it a try though. Less is more after all. 

 

Idioms...To Use or Not to Use...That is the Question

I love idioms. Our language is peppered with these colorful and pithy phrases.

One of my mother favorite phrases was, "Why buy the cow when the milk is so cheap." She often repeated it undoubtedly because she had three daughters. Mom's generation used idioms liberally to express themselves. However, people today are using those same idioms and newer ones are being added to the English language all the time.

Other languages have their own idioms. One of our neighbors was a small Mexican grandmother. What a sweetheart! She was much smaller than I, but she called me mamacita. :^)

She had a favorite phrase, "A woman's work, the donkey eats it." It made perfect sense to me.

You can find a terrific list of idioms at Idiomsite.com. There's even more at Using English.

I use idioms all the time when I talk. Who doesn't? The phrases are repeated over and over. For instance:

Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?

He's sick as a dog.

I'm going to make a long story short.

Should a writer be liberal in her use of idioms when writing a story? Idioms are cliches--old, hackneyed phrases and many have been around for centuries.

I think it all depends on your characters. Having a character speak a few choice idioms can help round them out--for instance an older woman with three daughters to marry off might use Mom's favorite saying.

Having a character make up their own unique--and funny--idioms would add freshness to a story.

But I don't think all the characters in any one story should be spouting off idiom after idiom. I especially believe avoiding tired old phrases in the narrative of the story is best.

What do you think?

Guest Post: A HEART RESTRAINED by Jennifer Wilck

     My guest today is Jennifer Wilck. She is an award-winning contemporary romance author for readers who are passionate about love, laughter, and happily ever after. Known for writing both Jewish and non-Jewish romances, her books feature damaged heroes, sassy and independent heroines, witty banter and hot chemistry. Jennifer’s ability to transport the reader into the scene, create characters the reader will fall in love with, and evoke a roller coaster of emotions, will hook you from the first page. You can find her books at all major online retailers in a variety of formats. 

     Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Pretty soon, her head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Even as an adult, she thinks about the characters and stories at night before she falls asleep or walking the dog. Eventually, she started writing them down. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.

     In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and does not believe in sharing her chocolate. 

     Where can you find Jennifer? Check out these links: 

Website: https://www.jenniferwilck.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/879114386079365
Newsletter: https://www.jenniferwilck.com/contact.html#newsletter
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjenniferwilck/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jennifer-wilck
Linktr.ee: https://linktr.ee/JenniferWilck
 

Jennifer's lastest release is A HEART RESTRAINED. 

This is the story of Caleb Zeno, a wealthy and successful media mogul. He refuses to allow emotions into any aspect of his life, especially his entertainment corporation. When his company’s lifestyle website runs into competition from a small boutique company, the most logical solution is to buy out his rival.     

Fiona Hamilton’s lifestyle website succeeds due to her loving and caring treatment of her clients, who have become like family to her. She has no desire to sell to anyone, much less a tattooed, muscled, automaton. At odds professionally, Caleb and Fiona come together as a favor for Caleb’s sister. Sparks fly and sexual chemistry abounds. But Caleb can't let go of his abusive past and be the man Fiona needs, and she is unwilling to risk independence and financial security for anything less than a perfect happily ever after. Can they put their differences aside to find a viral kind of love?

Here's an excerpt!

      “Wouldn’t you enjoy this more if it were in English?” 
      She paused and shifted so she faced him, one leg bent under her, the other dangling off the edge. “Absolutely not! Telenovelas are so much more emotional than American TV.” 
     “Why don’t you at least research online to find a plot summary?” 
     “I’m happy with the way things are,” she said. “I don’t need to hear the words to feel the story.” 
     “But...you’re crying.” 
     She smiled through her tears and wiped her cheeks. “I know.” 
     Staring at her, his heart rate increased, and he tamped the panic her tears caused. At first, he thought pain caused her tears, but her rapt attention to the screen made him realize otherwise. 
Why would she want to do this to herself? And how could she enjoy a show she couldn’t understand? 
      He should leave, before she recognized his complete lack of comprehension. But her rapt attention to the screen fascinated him. She was smart—his business dealings with her had proven it. Yet she focused as if she understood her show. 
     She stared at the TV screen, but he couldn’t take his gaze off her. Her skin, despite its bruising, was luminous. Her lips were parted, and she gripped the edges of the sofa cushions until her knuckles turned white. This close to her, heat radiated from her body. He could hear a faint sigh. 
     If she were this passionate about a television show, how passionate would she be if he kissed her? 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BS56R4LH
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-heart-restrained-jennifer-wilck/1142971831?ean=9781509248186
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/a-heart-restrained/id6445422670
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-heart-restrained
 
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/3k2G5n

I Need a Good Title

   

      I finished a book in February, but I need a good title for it. Sometimes I don't have a problem with the title and sometimes I do. I knew from the moment I started writing Heaven's Blue that would be the title of the book. The same thing happened with Sea of Hope. But for other books, I wound up writing lists of ideas as to what I would name them. The publisher at Pelican Book Group came up with the title for Angel of the L Train. I originally named it Home Somewhere, which is a very boring title.

     This latest book is set in 1903 in a Jersey shore town. I have a Pinterest board with a gazillion photos of the Jersey shore in the early 1900s. It was a popular place. (And still is. New Jersey has very nice beaches.) The protagonist's name Amaranth Beach since she was found at a beach wrapped in a tattered shawl with a sprig of seabeach amaranth on it. Raised in a Catholic orphanage, she was taught to be a secretary. She is given a job with with a woman who is very involved with the suffragist cause. 

     Chinese people in the United States at that time were not citizens. The first significant law restricting immigration into the United States was the Chinese Exclusion Act, passed by Congress in 1882. It banned Chinese laborers. In 1902, the Chinese were required to obtain a certificate of residence, without it they faced deportation. 

     So, the protagonist of this story fears being sent back to a place she doesn't know and where she cannot speak the language. 

     Of course, there is a love interest. The woman who hired the young protagonist has a son. 

     I've looked online and there are many books with the word orphan in the title. Secretary is a popular in titles as well. Beach Orphan? Hide Tide Orphan? Or maybe simply Miss Beach? 

     I'll be searching for more ideas. But in the meantime, you can check out my board on Pinterest with all the photos I've been saving to help me with this book: https://www.pinterest.com/penelopemarzec/amaranth/

Sidhe in the Catskills

There are two more days to enter the Pot o' Gold Bookish Event at https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/pot-o-gold-bookish-event. You could win a $15 Amazon giftcard. 

You could also buy PRINCE OF THE MIST for only #99cents.  I saved a bunch of reviews Prince of the Mist received when it was released the first time. For the second edition, it is the same great book. The only difference is the cover. 😁

Now is the time for you to download Prince of the Mist because it's almost St. Patrick's Day and this is a story about one of the large, human-sized Irish fairies known as the Sidhe--except the hero of this book lives in the Catskill Mountains of New York. Sidhe in the Catskills you might ask? Of course! While the legends about the Sidhe come from Ireland, there are fairies in other countries. You can find a wealth of information about mythical creatures at http://www.kelleyheckart.com/FaeryLore.html

This book was fun to write and many reviewers enjoyed it as well. Read below to see what some reviewers said about the first edition.

Candy, reviewing for Coffee Time Romance, gave PRINCE OF THE MIST 5 Coffee Cups and said, “The conflicts between Tia and Wildon are full of humor and pathos. Their lovemaking is explosive. There is action and suspense as Tia fights her mother’s enemies. I enjoyed this book and I hope this is the beginning of a new series by Penelope Marzec. I look forward to reading more of her books.”

Julie Bonello at ECataRomance Reviews gave PRINCE OF THE MIST 4 Stars and said, “Penelope Marzec’s novella Prince of the Mist is an enchanting paranormal romance which will keep you enthralled from the first page to the last sentence!.....Prince of the Mist is a page-turning story which you will find very hard to put down. Penelope Marzec is a very talented author who keeps her readers hooked with this fabulous story which is full of fun, passion and intrigue.”

For PRINCE OF THE MIST, Valerie at Love Romances said, “Penelope Marzec has written a good book with a good plot. This reviewer was drawn in with the first page. There is lots of action and the opening is quite exciting. When Tia is running away from the car jacker, the reader feels her panic and fear. Tia is a heroine who the reader can relate to.”

The book received Four Angels from Brandy at Fallen Angel Reviews who said, “Ms. Marzec has created a sweet story that covers the full range of emotions. The plot is simple, but effective; the characters are likable and easy to relate to….. All in all, this is an excellent story and well worth reading.”

Brenda Thatcher, Reviewer at Mystique Books gave it Four and One Half Moons. She said, “PRINCE OF THE MIST is a wonderful book, a tender tale of love set against a politically hot topic….PRINCE OF THE MIST is highly recommended. It is a beautiful story of love that shows how two people from vastly different cultures can find unity.”

Wendi at Road to Romance said, “PRINCE OF THE MIST is so well written and spellbinding, my attention was grabbed from the beginning. I read the story all at once.”

Romance Junkies Reviewer Billie Jo awarded PRINCE OF THE MIST a Blue Ribbon Rating of 4.5 and said, “PRINCE OF THE MIST is a charming, sexy, and fun read. Penelope Marzec outdoes herself again with another magical love story that kept me enthralled from the beginning to the end. …I chuckled throughout this delightful tale. I look forward to reading more of Ms. Marzec’s books."

Susan from Enchanted In Romance gave PRINCE OF THE MIST 4 Unicorns and said, “Prince of The Mist is a 64-page story that will transport the reader to a magical realm. The author has written a fast paced and highly sensual story that will capture the readers’ imagination. The lead couple’s story and their struggles will draw you in and not let go until the very end.”

So there you have it. Lots of happy reviewers enjoyed Prince of the Mist. Give it a try. You don't have much to lose. It's less than the price of a cup of coffee. :^)

You can download it at https://www.amazon.com/Prince-Mist-Penelope-Marzec/dp/1467901288

Pot 'O Gold Bookish Event!

 Are you feeling lucky? You could win a $15 Amazon gift card @NNP_W_Light’s Pot ‘O Gold Bookish Event. Check out all the featured books and enter the giveaway to win a $15 Amazon gift card: https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/pot-o-gold-bookish-event 

Open Internationally. You must have a valid Amazon US or Amazon Canada account to win.

Runs March 9 – March 19, 2023.

Winner will be drawn on March 20, 2023.

Two of my books will be featured for this event, Prince of the Mist and Kiss of Blarney. Both are only $0.99! A real bargain! 

You can find the link with all the information about PRINCE OF THE MIST at https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/post/prince-of-the-mist-pog

One fan of the book said, "Ms Marzec does a wonderful job giving us a very grown up fairy tale. The descriptive writing and modern day issues make this story real. I highly recommended it."

I Am A Winner!

 I revised and added words to my current WIP. I actually finished the book and wrote The End. It really helped to have cheerleaders urging me on to victory.  😊  I LOVE this February challenge. 

Of course, I'm not really done with the book because I have to go through the manuscript again to double check everything as well as do a thorough spelling and grammar check. I also have to write a blurb AND a synopsis. I am not fond of those tasks, but I will muddle through them. 

Then I have to hope someone will thinks it's good enough. Writing is a gamble. But I do enjoy the drama with my characters. They always entertain me. 💖 

Guest Post: THE VISITOR MEETS OLD HAIRY by Fay Lamb

     My guest today is Fay Lamb. She is the only daughter of a rebel genius father and a hard-working, tow-the-line mom. She is not only a fifth-generation Floridian, she has lived her life in Titusville, where her grandmother was born in 1899.
     Since an early age, storytelling has been Fay’s greatest desire. She seeks to create memorable characters that touch her readers’ hearts. She says of her writing, “If I can’t laugh or cry at the words written on the pages of my manuscript, the story is not ready for the reader.” Fay writes in various genres, including romance, romantic suspense, and contemporary fiction.
     If you’d like to catch up with Fay, visit her at her website, on Amazon, Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter. Also, Fay has become a “novel” gardener, and she shares her adventure in her newsletter, Tales from the Azalea Garden. You can sign up for her newsletter, Tales from the Azalea Garden, here.

Fay's newest release is THE VISITOR MEETS OLD HAIRY. 

Here's the blurb:

     The Visitor goes camping? Pollyanna Reagan can't wait to take her always-put-together, ultra-professional sister out into the boonies. But when they encounter what they thought was a mythical creature, they might both become sticks in the mud.
     Of course, when they find a body, a stiff in the mud, Connie shifts into deduction mode. Was the deceased somehow scared to death or possibly attacked by what should be imaginary, or are there other, more human and certainly more vicious, intentions at play?
     Match wits with The Visitor as she unravels this twisted puzzle and the family drama that surrounds it.

The Visitor Meets Old Hairy

Preview by Fay Lamb

 

Polly turned to her sister, her finger to her lips.

“I’m not talking.” Connie’s attempt to whisper had the decibels of a seven-forty-seven. Wind whipped hair into her face. “And who can hear anything with this wind. Give us a little rain, and we’ll have a hurricane.”

“Try not to step on the twigs.” Polly ignored her sister’s complaints. 

“We’re not on a path, Polly. The ground is littered with them.”

Ethan’s snicker took the air of frustration from Polly’s wings. She leaned against a tree and covered her face with her hands, trying to keep from bursting into laughter.

Connie leaned against her, her body shaking. “If Old Hairy was out here, we most definitely would see him.”

“No.” Ethan came near. “Aunt Connie, they’re stealthy and hard to spot even in the daytime. They hide themselves against trees and don’t make a sound unless they want to be heard or seen—all eight feet—no grunting from exertion, no stomping when they walk.” He glanced at his mom with a sly smile. “Some people believe they have a cloaking ability like a chameleon.”

Marc drew near. “And they read minds.” He wiggled his brows and glanced at his wife. “When they’re near you, their sub-sonic hum can make you deathly ill.”

They were making fun of her, but Polly didn’t care. Standing alone with her family in the middle of expedition and gabbing with the people she loved, that was all she wanted. “They hide in caves. That’s why they aren’t seen,” she countered with her own knowledge of Bigfoot lore. “And they’ve had years to adapt to the land; they know the layout.”

They remained silent for a moment as the limbs above them rustled.

“Did you hear that?” Connie spun around.

“With the wind?” Polly threw her sister’s words back at her. 

Connie waved her hands back and forth in front of her face. “And smell that?”

Polly took a deep breath and coughed. “That’s not a Bigfoot.” 

“It’s a skunk.” Ethan took off running through the dark in the direction of the camp.

Connie put her hands out to stop Marc and Polly. “Let’s see if he runs into it first.”

Marc laughed aloud. “Good idea.”

Polly spied something illuminated by the rays of the moon filtering through the trees: the white of a skunk’s coat.

Perhaps Ethan had been the clever one.

Polly held to her sister’s and her husband’s arms. “There.” She nodded.

The skunk stood up on two feet and looked around.

Polly held her breath, and not from the stench. Did skunks attack?

The skunk stayed still for a moment, looked behind it, and then turned to look in their direction.

Polly planted her feet so as to run if it moved toward her.

Despite the wind, tromping could be heard and then a heavy grunt.

The skunk took off.

Connie—and Marc—jumped behind Polly’s back.

More stomping sounded, coming closer.

An overly large figure silhouetted in the moon’s shine moved into the center of the trees. His attention was in the direction the skunk had fled.

Connie gasped.

The creature stilled completely. Then it turned.

“Stay still.” Marc whispered. “Polly, is it a man?”

“I-I don’t think so.” She trembled. “He’s huge.”

The huge apelike man stared. When it blinked, the action was slow.

It swayed back and forth like an ape.

Polly took a step back, forcing Marc and Connie with her.

The creature raised its shoulders, bent low at the knees, and inhaled. As it straightened, a tremendous howl built from its innards and reverberated against Polly. She’d never heard anything the likes of it.

The howl ended, and the creature stood stock-still, his attention never leaving them.

“Shoo. Shoo.” Connie moved her free hand.

The lumbering beast stared at Connie, blinked again, and turned. Then it thundered off into the woods.

Polly released her breath. “Was it really…?”

👀

You can find Fay Lamb and her Social Media Links:

 

The Visitor Meets Old Hairy: https://amzn.to/3iLN5Uk

Join the Expedition: Enter the contest by guessing at the clues given to you as to the location of each book in The Visitor series: https://www.writeintegrity.com/thevisitor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FayFayLamb

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FayFaylamb

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1482814.Fay_Lamb

Amazon Central: https://amazon.com/author/faylamb

Newsletter, Tales from the Azalea Garden: https://www.faylamb.net/contact

 

 

 

Did I Write Myself into a Corner?

I joined the #JeRoWriMo challenge again this year. Every year the New Jersey Romance Writers challenges their member to write 30,000 words during the month of February. So far, this year I've accumulated 20,000 words! 

This year I did not write myself into a corner as I have done in the past. However, I left out a very important fact about a secondary character's motivation, which explains everything about her behavior. 

Is there an easy way out?

There's plenty of advice online, but I found Ken Levine's suggestions useful for me--and perhaps it would be helpful for anyone.

The most important thing to remember is that the story can be fixed. It will be much better, too.

Have fun writing!

JeRoWriMo--The New Jersey Romance Writers' 30,000 Word Challenge

 I signed up for JeRoWriMo again. This time I'm doing revisions on a book I started in the 2021 JeRoWriMo Challenge. Last year was difficult for me, so not much writing was accomplished, but I am going to finish the book this time. It's a historical romance set in 1903, which is considerably more contemporary than some of my other historicals, but still an interesting time in the history of the world. 

I haven't decided on a name yet though I have a few ideas for the title. But right now, I want to get everything nice and tidy. 

The JeRoWriMo cheerleaders are in high spirits and encouraging everyone to keep typing! Good times!