I first met Vanessa Gleason on...

Christmas Eve. Oh, I’m Pastor Dan Jacobson, pastor of St. Matthew Lutheran Church. I came to check things out for my Christmas Eve service and there she was standing kneeling next to the Nativity Scene. She stood and turned toward me. I sensed the tension in her. I’m sure with the light behind me, she couldn’t see who I was right away. She was holding a baby.

I approached slowly and she immediately relaxed when she realized I was a man of the cloth, immediately mistaking me for a priest. Normal mistake, many people mistook me for a priest.

The baby wasn’t hers, she explained. She found it next to the crèche. Naturally, I was suspicious. Was she trying to pull a fast one? Her annoyance didn’t escape me as she pushed the note in my hand. Not that it proved anything, she could have written it. Thing is, she looked me in the eye and I’ve discovered people who are lying don’t look you in the eye.

Her eyes held sorrow, grief. This was a woman who was suffering. We sat down and I asked if she had children. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes. Slowly but surely, the story came out. She had a two year old daughter, whose father demanded custody, threatening Vanessa if she didn’t agree. She had no choice or chance of getting her daughter back if she didn’t take the money he offered and leave.

It wasn’t long before someone else entered the church. The baby’s mother raced toward us, crying. The poor girl was at wit’s end, not knowing where to turn. When she saw Vanessa come into the church, something made her scribble a note and run out. But, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t leave her baby.

I knew I should call the police, but Vanessa came to the rescue, insisting the girl and baby stay with her. It was Christmas Eve and after the tale Vanessa just told me about her own child, well heck, how could I possibly call the police? So I got the address where they were staying and let them go, figuring I’d check on them later. Besides, I wanted to see Vanessa again.

To find out what happens next, you’ll have to read the book. It’s available from Amazon

EXCERPT

Vanessa’s stomach tensed. She had to get out of here. Needed some air, needed to escape.

She got in her car and started driving, to where was anyone’s guess. The quaintness of Strongsville, Ohio, especially the town square with the gazebo with all the Christmas decorations, brought tears to her eyes. Vanessa wiped the tears away and parked the car. Shoppers and carolers filled the sidewalks. Ignoring them, Vanessa hurried past decorated shops until she came to a small church. St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, the sign out front said. Two huge wreaths hung on the heavy oak doors. The small white building beckoned to her.

Vanessa opened the door, walked up the steps and stood at the entrance. The quiet of the empty church filled her soul. It had been too long since she had attended services. Charles wasn’t particularly religious, but at least he had allowed her to have Alyssa baptized. She should have gone to church more often by herself, but after spending Saturday evening at the club, it was all too easy to sleep in on Sunday morning.

Light showed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the red carpet-covered aisle way. A nativity scene at the front captured her attention and drew her forward. Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind.

Her father always helped set up the nativity at church when she was a little girl, and they let her put Baby Jesus in the crèche. A noise came from the side aisle, interrupting her thoughts. Vanessa stopped, saw a flash of red and the side door slammed. Funny, she hadn’t noticed anyone else when she came in.

Oh, well, Vanessa shrugged and continued to the front and knelt down. What in the world? Next to the nativity scene sat a car seat. An infant, three, maybe four months old with dark curly hair, opened its almond shaped dark eyes and reached its chubby arms out to her.

“What have we here?” Vanessa unbuckled the seat belt. “Hello, precious.” She picked up the baby and a note fell on the diaper bag next to the car seat. Vanessa picked up the paper and read the scribbled words.

Please take care of my baby. Her name is Grace. Mary.

“Who could leave someone as precious as you?” Vanessa looked around. No one lurked in the shadows. Who left the baby? How long had she been here? God, what should she do? The baby cuddled against her. Vanessa inhaled the sweet smell of baby lotion, bringing back memory of Alyssa. Tears filled her eyes. For a minute, she was tempted to take the baby and leave, but she couldn’t do it.

Startled, when the door at the back of the church slammed, Vanessa turned toward the sound. A shadow loomed at the entrance and moved toward her. A tall figure walked down the aisle, checking the pews along the way. Vanessa hugged the baby against her, held her breath, and let it out when she saw who it was.

“Father, I’m glad you’re here. I came in here and found this baby. I was just about to call the police.”

“I’m a minister, not a priest. Pastor Dan Jacobson, Pastor Dan will do,” he said. “You found a baby?” His brown eyes sparkled with a glint of gold below raised eyebrows. “Who do you suppose it belongs to?”

“Yes, I ... uh.” The look on his face told her he didn’t believe her. Heck, she could have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew, cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her. She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.

“I see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?” Vanessa stood and took a step closer to him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”

Pastor Dan stared at her, like he was studying her.

Vanessa stared back at him. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa, clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now, Alyssa’s cries when Charles slammed the door ripped her apart.

Pastor Dan brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked through it.

Grace squirmed in Vanessa’s arms and began to cry.

“Probably hungry.” Vanessa hummed and cuddled the baby and rocked her.

Pastor Dan pulled out a bottle of formula.

The warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in her heart, missing Alyssa even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.

“You have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.

A tear escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.

“How many?”

“One.” Vanessa choked out the word.

How old?”

“Two.” The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.

***

Attractive woman and she held the baby like she cared about it. Was she trying to pull a fast one? Yet, something about her suggested she was telling the truth. Her eyes—that was it. She had honest eyes. Dan laughed inwardly. What was it with him and people’s eyes? He’d learned over the years that people telling the truth looked you in the eyes, whereas liars looked away, over your head, or down at the floor. This woman looked him full in the eyes.

And he’d gone and made her mad. She didn’t look like the sort of person he wanted mad at him. No, she looks like the sort of person who needed help. Like someone he wanted to know better. No wedding ring, but the pale mark on her tanned finger indicated she wore one recently.

Something bothered her, an inner conflict. The baby wasn’t hers, but there was something. A sorrow in her eyes, a deep hurt on her face. He had seen that look before, usually someone suffering from grief. He wanted to know more about this mysterious woman who showed up in his church and discovered the baby.

“Yes, I ... uh.” The look on his face told her he didn’t believe her. Heck, she could have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew, cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her. She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.

“I see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?” Vanessa stood and took a step closer to him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”

Pastor Dan stared at her, like he was studying her.

Vanessa stared back at him. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa, clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now, Alyssa’s cries when Charles slammed the door ripped her apart.

Pastor Dan brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked through it.

Grace squirmed in Vanessa’s arms and began to cry.

“Probably hungry.” Vanessa hummed and cuddled the baby and rocked her.

Pastor Dan pulled out a bottle of formula.

The warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in her heart, missing Alyssa even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.

“You have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.

A tear escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.

“How many?”

“One.” Vanessa choked out the word.

             How old?”

“Two.” The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.

Hello, Penny Estelle

1: Thank you so much for being here, Penny Estelle.

First up is the obligatory question. When did you first begin writing?

In my mid twenties, which was a VERY LONG TIME AGO, I started the historical, western romance.  I was sure it would be on the best seller list for years.  It took me five years to finish (no computers then) and I put it in a box, put it in my closet, and that is where it has lived for thirty years!

2: Sounds like a familiar tale. What inspired you to write?

I was an elementary school secretary for twenty-one years.  I dealt with kids of all ages when they would be sent to see the principal.  I loved dealing with children’s sense of humor, actions, excuses, stories, etc. I promised myself when I retired I was going to write stories about kids!    

3: We have something in common. I was a school secretary also. Can't write for children, though. I envy the authors who can. So, what do you like the most and least about writing?

When I finish a story and I send it to my grandson to read and I get an email that says, “This is awesome!”  What do I like least – easy – proofing it over and over and over again!

4: That does make it worthwhile, doesn't it. What do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?

Four-wheeling and exploring AZ back roads with my hubby, I like to gamble, movies, reading, and spending time with my grandkids.

5: Sounds like an adventure.  Which authors do you like to read?

Janet Evanovich, Nora Roberts, Fern Michaels, only to name a few.

6: I love those authors, too. What’s the one thing you’d most like people to know about you?

Wow…this is a hard one!  I am retired, I am living on a fifty-four acre ranch, and I am doing exactly what I want to do – write.  I am living the dream!

7: Sounds like a great life. Tell me about your current  Muse novel, where I can find it and your website/blog.

MuseItUp Publishing picked up a short story called Billy Cooper’s Awesome Nightmare. 

It’s a Friday, and Billy Cooper has forty minutes left of school before his weekend starts.  He is watching the clock and thinking about his weekend when his seventh grade history teacher, Ms. Wickware, throws a wrench in his plans.  Every student will draw a piece of paper out of a basket and will then give an oral report on their subject on Monday. Billy is sure he can skate by with a quick search on the computer, but everything changes when he meets his fourteenth century subject in person!

It will be out in May, 2012. I am really excited for this story to be published because I think it’s funny and also educational.  I also am hoping to write a few more, along the same story line, and have a possible series.

I also have a website and blog address:

http://www.pennystales.com

http://www.pennyestelle.blogspot.com

8: Sounds like a great story. Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

I do and it’s a tip I have to keep telling myself – write, write, write, submit, and write some more!

9: Great advice. Something, I'm frequently asked - Do you base your characters on real-life people?

At this point, my stories have been for MG/YA.  I usually picture a person I know (grandkids, friends, jerks I have met) because it is easier for me to visualize and that keeps it flowing.

10: Another question I'm frequently asked - Where do you get your ideas and what inspired you to write this book?

An Idea can come to me by hearing a simple phrase on TV or an action scene at the movies. 

What actually inspired me to write Billy Cooper’s Awesome Nightmare, was a news show.  It interviewed children of all ages asking if they knew, or had heard of, some of our famous legendary people or places...Pecos Bill, Johnny Appleseed, Atlantis… and most had not! 

11: Amazing what strikes an idea. So, what are you currently working on?

I wrote a very short story called Sasq-what? a few years ago and it was printed in an ezine magazine.  I am expanding that story into a novella.

12. Sounds great. Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

I am new to this game. I hope my stories bring a smile to those who read them and will want to see more!

Roseanne – thank you so much for having me on your blog!

http://www.pennystales.com
http://pennyestelle.blogspot.com
Hike Up Devil's Mountain
http://www.solsticepublishing.com/products/Hike-Up-Devil%27s-Mountain%252d%252dPDF-EBOOK.html

Hello, Susan A. Royal

1: Thank you so much for being here, Susan A. Royal

First up is the obligatory question. When did you first begin writing?

The first ‘book’ I remember writing was something written in pencil on notebook paper folded in half and bound with a red ribbon. It was more picture book than anything else, because at the time, words were still an unfolding mystery to me.  I think I was all of five.

2: What inspired you to write?

I wanted to be able to help other people share the same emotion I felt whenever I escaped into that boundless world called imagination.  

3: What do you like the most and least about writing?

I love when passages come to me like scenes in a movie.  I ‘see’ how the light plays across my characters’ faces.  I ‘feel’ their emotions. I ‘experience’ their surroundings.  My job is to put it on paper so my reader can do the same.

I hate when a word is on the tip of my tongue and I can’t grasp it.  Some days the words seem to flow off the tip of my tongue, but on the days they don’t—  

4: What do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?

Relax?  What’s that?  I’m one of those people who like to stay busy.  I still work full-time.  I sew.  I make jewelry.  I paint in acrylics.  We’ve always got a diy project going.  We like to take our travel trailer out and camp.  I like to go antiquing.  I don’t watch television a lot, but I do veg out in front of it a few times a week, watching favorite shows with my husband.  We also like going to the movies.

5: Which authors do you like to read?

 Too many to list, but here are a few of my favorites.  In middle school: Ray Bradbury, Andre Norton, Madeline L’Engle In high school:  Poul Anderson, Robert Heinlen Since then:  Barbara Michaels, Mary Stewart, Robert McCammon, Diana Gabaldon, Jim Butcher, Ilona Andrews, Susannah Kearsley, Dean Koontz  and probably others I can’t remember at the moment

6: What’s the one thing you’d most like people to know about you? 

Humor gets me through life.  I love to laugh.  And I do things my own way. 

7: Tell me about your current novel, where I can find it and your website/blog.

Not Long Ago is a time travel romance.  When I wrote the first page, I had no idea where I’d go from there.  It sat around for a while, until the scenes popped into my head.

Not Long Ago is due out in June, 2012.

My website: http://susanroyal.moonfruit.com


  

8: Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

 Join an online critiquing group.  Join local writing groups.  Enter short story contests.  Write-write-write.  Learn-learn-learn.  Edit-edit-edit.  And, never, ever give up.

9: Do you base your characters on real-life people?  My daughter and I had that conversation recently. She’s doing a trailer for me, and she wanted to know how I ‘saw’ my characters.  I had no trouble at all with my supporting cast.  In Not Long Ago, March and Kathleen were modeled after a lovely couple, fellow writer and friends of ours from the Isle of Man.  Physically, the rotund priest could be my brother-in-law’s twin.  Arvo reminds me of a dear friend from high school, whose shoulder I cried on often.  But Erin and Griffin, my main characters, are more of a combination of people I’ve known.  I like to think Erin gets her snappy wit and independence from me.  And, Griffin?  He’s the kind of guy we all like.  Good-looking, but not vain, brave, loyal to a fault, kind and above all, he’s in touch with his feelings—what more could a girl want?    

10: Where do you get your ideas and what inspired you to write this book? 

I love history, and I love the idea of traveling to another time in history.  Of course, I had to throw in the romance, the crop circles, the ghost and the kidnapping just to keep it interesting.

11: What are you currently working on?

 I’m working on a fantasy, In My Own Shadow.  Lara, the main character is struggling to cope with her father’s death.  She lets her best friend, Nicole, set her up on a blind date with her cousin, because she realizes she needs to begin moving on with her life.  Lara meets Rhys in the lobby after work, and on their way to the parking lot, they’re attacked by strange, tattooed men. They escape to Lara’s apartment, where another man appears on her doorstep and in her mind.  Lara and Rhys flee to another dimension, where Lara learns Lyra, her double in this world, has disappeared with an important find everyone wants to get their hands on. Like it or not, Lara finds herself involved with finding out what happened to Lyra, because only then can she return home safely.

12. Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

 I’ve lived in Texas all my life.  I can tell you a little about West Texas (born in El Paso), growing up in the sixties in San Antonio and raising my kids in a small town in northeast Texas.  If you’re writing about Texas and need to know trivia, I’ll do what I can to find out for you.

This is an unedited excerpt to Not Long Ago:

I saw him the other day.  It happened when I cut across Market Street and passed in front of the fancy, new coffee shop.  On the other side of spotless glass, waitresses in crisp black uniforms served expensive coffee in fancy cups and saucers, and one man sat alone at a table by the window.  No one I knew, just a nice-looking stranger, who looked up as I passed.  We exchanged glances. I froze in the middle of a busy sidewalk crowded with impatient people in a hurry. Annoyed, they parted, sweeping by me like water rushing downstream.

What I saw left me reeling, as though someone had knocked the wind out of me. My glimpse deep inside the man’s essence had unnerved me, but I couldn’t look away.  Who was he? The waitress stopped at his table. He turned, lowering his cup into its saucer and shook his head, his mouth curving into a familiar smile that made my heart lurch. After she left, his eyes returned to mine.  A moment before, I thought they’d held a spark of recognition.  Now, I saw nothing.  And I felt cold, as though he’d slammed a door in my face and left me standing outside in the rain. 

I had no other choice but to move on.

I hadn’t just recognized him.  I remembered how his hair curled at the nape of his neck. And I knew a scar snaked down his arm, because I was the one who’d put it there.  I knew other things, too.  He was an excellent horseman, accomplished swordsman, an honorable man. And he didn’t belong in my world.  Not in the coffee shop, not in the city.  Not anywhere.  None of this should have happened.  We should have been no more than casual observers sharing a moment before going our separate ways.  But something went wrong.

Hello, Jenna Storm

Thank you so much for being here, Jenna Storm.

1: First up the obligatory question: What genre do you write?

I write paranormal romantic suspense.

2: Tell us, how long have you been writing?

I don’t remember the year I started but I know it’s been several and it took many rejections before I had my first story published. So, those who are unpublished don’t give up...keep plugging away. 

3: A question I'm often asked do you like the most and least about writing?

I love creating the plot and characters, the actual writing and even the editing. What I don’t enjoy, or rather what I don’t excel at is managing my time so I can get more done in a shorter amount of time. Can you say, disorganized? Also described as scatterbrained, or dreamy! I prefer dreamy.

4: What do you do for fun and relaxation when not writing?

I read, hang out with my two daughters (14 and 9)and when I’m not watching the Disney Channel which I usually am, I watch crime shows and movies...action, suspense and comedy. No tear jerkers for me. I like a happy ending in my books and movies.

5: A girl after my own heart. So which authors do you like to read?

I enjoy several authors from the paranormal and suspense genres. Just a few that come to mind are Lisa Gardner, Lisa Jackson, Gena Showalter and Nalini Singh.

6: What’s the one thing you’d most like people to know about you?

I’m grateful for my two girls who make me laugh and give me so many reasons to love my crazy, hectic life! I consider myself very lucky to have met so many wonderful people through my writing career especially my Muse It Up family.

7: I can relate to that. Muse is a great place and wonderful family. Tell me about your current novel, where I can find it?

The Burning Seal will be available from Muse It Up Publishing in March 2012. This is a paranormal romance with I’m hoping, plenty of suspense. There are several paranormal/supernatural elements...a demon, psychic and witch to name a few. I’ve included an excerpt after the interview if you’d like to read a little about it.

8: It sounds intriguing. I know you mentioned something earlier,  but do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

Don’t quit. Keep writing. Learn the craft but in the end follow your heart and your instincts. Love what you’re writing--the story and characters--and that depth of feeling will come through in your story.

9: Great advice. Another question I'm often asked, do you base your characters on real-life people?

Not really. In both the physical and the emotional creation of the character, I’m inspired by several sources, i.e. a movie, song, news story, people watching...whatever strikes me.

10: I know what you mean, I even find my characters in magazine ads. How did you come up with the idea for this book?

It started with a question...what would it be like if major events in our lives repeated and we were given a chance to correct a failure? The story blossomed from there. I added the Elements, Hierarchy demons, struggles for domination, magic, an ancient grimoire thought to be a myth and a character with psychic abilities.

11: It's amazing how we come up with ideas. So tell us, what are you currently working on?

Right now, I’m finishing the edits for this book and then I will get back to book two in the series.

12. Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

Aside from writing and being a mom, I’m also going to school for Web and Graphic Design.

13. Wow, busy lady. Tell us where we can we find you? Website? Blog?

Her Last Kiss paranormal romance (novella), now available at http://www.wickedinkpress.com

The Burning Seal (March 2012) http://museituppublishing.com/musepub/

Website: http://www.jennastormauthor.com/

Blog: http://jennastorm.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenna-Storm/111299362263109

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/JennaStormWritz

The Burning Seal, the first book in the Element Series is due out March 2012.

Detective Danni Keegan is plunged into a dark, demonic world where survival depends on deciphering the connection between ritual killings, and a demon terrorizing her for a ‘gift’ she wasn’t even aware she possessed. She must unravel her dreams of another woman who lived during ancient times and battled a bloodthirsty demon. The same demon who now hunts Danni. The loss of her body and soul looms imminent as her only chance to destroy the demon depends on changing her new partner’s convictions. A sinfully sexy man, who exudes power and self-assurance with the ease of breathing and has an iron willed determination not to believe in the paranormal.

Unedited Excerpt:

New Orleans

Six weeks ago

          Danni Keegan pulled back the wispy curtain to peer through the thick rivulets of rain and search the swaying trees and bushes. She put her fingers to the glass and welcomed the chill as it traveled through her body. Maybe the cold would paralyze her tragic thoughts, end the dreaded feeling, the vengeful rising tide that sought to drown her.

          Her hand came off the glass and went back to the curtain. Her nimble fingers fidgeted with the lace. For weeks now, the doomed feeling had fed on her, no better than raging piranhas that hungered for fresh meat. She was the fresh meat. 

Every day the fear escalated, chewed off more of her flesh; exposed more of her vulnerability.

          Get control of yourself. You didn’t make it as a cop by fearing the dark, or letting a feeling rule your head. Yet, her uneasiness gnawed, the cause elusive, unsupported by any evidence. Were the unsolved homicides of Lucy Brighton and Chelsea Marlin warping her sanity?

          No matter how tough she acted, it was impossible to look at ravished remains and not mourn the loss of life. Question your own mortality and blame yourself for not stopping the killer. Was she confusing her edginess with guilt that the killer remained free to hunt new victims?

          Her fingers beat the glass in a staccato tempo which matched her heart’s unsettled rhythm. 

          No. This evil feeling, it’s blacker.

          More menacing. More...enduring.

          She cast a wishful glance at the wide-cushioned sofa, television, her bagel and cream cheese neglected on the coffee-table along with the horror novel she had been reading. She remained anchored to the window and scanned the looming trees and thick darkness for a shadow that didn’t fit. A forceful wind slammed the encroaching tree limbs against the condo's roof and the windows wept from the torrential downpour.

          She leaned forward and focused, as if she could frisk the shadow with her eyes. The bushes along the sidewalk shook in a way that was at odds with the direction of the wind. A clump of white bolted from the tangled branches and frost burned leaves. Realization dawned and the sight of the familiar lithe body made her smile. Partly from relief, mainly from her foolishness.

          The porch was clear except for her very drenched, very vexed cat. 

          Danni hurried to the door and twisted the bottom lock. But when it came to the deadbolt she wavered.

          Don’t. Open. The. Door.

          The warning slithered through her body, stroked her apprehension and added high-octane fuel to her fears. She stared at the top of her fluffy-socked feet and scrunched her toes against the hardwood floor.

           "This is stupid. Letting poor Independence drown in this storm because of a feeling."

          She flexed her hands, thought of her gun tucked in the nightstand drawer; thought about getting it. To what, shoot at trees and darkness? Since when do you let emotions rule your head?

          Danni twisted the lock and stepped out, playing hopscotch with the growing puddles on the small cement slab of her porch. She sucked in a breath, pulled her robe tighter. The sensation of standing on solid ice seeped through her socks. Before she could cajole Independence inside, the cat darted to the right, into the heart of the storm.

          “I’m not chasing you!” Danni called out, shoved her hands into her robe’s pockets, and shuffled side to side on cold, wet feet.

          Damn. Now she’d have to change her socks, throw her damp robe into the dryer--

          The wall of overgrown bushes at her left rustled. Branches snapped. The unexpected noise halted her breath, seized her thoughts. Everything froze. Except time.

          A masked figure vaulted through the deluge of rain, gloved hands outstretched. The intruder moved faster than the lightning streaking across the night sky.      

Hello, Rosalie Skinner

 Thank you so much for being here, Lady Rosalie Skinner.

1: What genre do you write?

I write Science fiction Fantasy.

2: How long have you been writing?

Since 1988. When I found I had exhausted the local libraries and my favorite authors didn’t write fast enough. I decided I would write my own story.

3: What do you like the most and least about writing?

When I write I tend to become obsessive, that’s the least desirable trait. The best, well hearing back from readers who want you to write more, is the biggest thrill of all.

4: What do you for fun and relaxation when not writing?

When not writing obsessively, you mean? Then I am happiest being a grandmother.

5: Which authors do you like to read?

I tend to avoid reading Fantasy authors while I am writing, but I will indulge in crime, Michael Connolly, Harlan Coban, and for a little history I read Bernard Cornwall.

6: What’s the one thing you’d most like people to know about you?

Hmm, that I am about to become a published author with Museitup Publishing and I am to host a Fantasy writing workshop at the Museonline Free Writer’s conference.

7: Tell me about your current novel, where I can find it?

This month will see the second book in the series The Chronicles of Caleath released. Exiled: Winter’s Curse can be found on the Museitup Publishing website or a link is also on my website at www.Rosalieskinner.com

8: Do you have any tips for aspiring authors?

Never give up. Keep writing. Keep reading. Listen to advice, grasp the concepts and apply them as you feel they enhance your writing. Let the advice that doesn’t seem to apply stand and simmer. One day it may be helpful.

9: Do you base your characters on real-life people?

Not intentionally. The courage though, to face life’s adversity came from watching someone close face the changes that came from coping and learning to live with a chronic debilitating disease. One character is named after, if not based on a real person. A dear friend who asked to be in the books, the last time I saw her, is now a character and appears in several of the books in The Chronicles of Caleath. She will also appear in the next series.

10: How did you come up with the idea for this book?

I have always loved the fantasy genre and science fiction too. So that was a base to work on. Then I have taken aspects of life around us and applied them to Caleath’s world. We live in a strange environment, I guess that’s where I found most of my ideas. In Caleath’s world people are learning to live with virtual reality games, real life TV shows, big brother watching for entertainment, drugs, environmental problems, relationships that don’t follow Hollywood parameters and the hiccups life throws down as challenges to living. Then I add a lot of imagination and fantasy ideas too. Pirates, dragons, whales, magic, damsels with attitude and heroes on horseback.

11: What are you currently working on?

I have a WIP. The second book in a new series that follows the Chronicles of Caleath. It is on standby at present as I work toward the release of the eight books in the first series. With editing and promoting I am kept pretty busy.

12. Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

I can be contacted through my website, or blog. I love to hear from readers and other authors.

13. Where can we find you? Website? Blog?

Website: Rosalieskinner.com

Blog: Ramblings from Lady Rosalie http://rosalieskinner.blogspot.com

Thank you Roseanne for hosting me today.

EXCERPT: Exiled: Winter’s Curse

Unedited

Despite the unexpected appearance of a threat in their midst, the experienced bandits reacted with lightning reflexes. Men swarmed from the cave, drawing bows and steel. They took no chances once they identified their quarry.

Caleath spent precious moments removing bowmen from the fray.

With the instinct of a Rampartian cat, he leapt to the ground, before he drew steel. His Karadorian blade ran red with firelight and dark blood as he brandished the weapon.

The encounter raged unhampered by convention. A bloodthirsty melee ensued where drawn blood drew savage reprisal. Caleath thrust and parried. Striking high, blocking low he lunged forward to take out one adversary while blocking another.

He withdrew his sword to counter-thrust past a badly executed onslaught. Relentless, desperate attacks, driven by anger and fear, caused lethal misjudgment. Another antagonist fell before Caleath’s tireless blade. When the sword snagged under the dying man’s weight Caleath feinted. He snatched the wrist of an unguarded arm flailing toward him.

With a wicked twist, he snapped the arm back. The sound of fracturing bone echoed with the scream while Caleath hefted free his sword and silenced the bandit’s agony.

Two brigands maintained their assault. Caleath caught a fleeting image of a third, somehow lost from sight. His adversaries worked as a team, moving with experience and care to engage him.

From nowhere a silent missile struck Caleath, missing his temple by a hair’s breadth. He tried to turn but black pain exploded in his skull. The young survivor from the village, safely out of reach of Caleath’s sword, smiled and lowered a slingshot.

Caleath staggered against the bole of the fig. Fighting to stay conscious, he watched two brigands step forward to finish the fight.

Unable to raise his sword, Caleath closed his eyes and waited for death. He heard the unforgettable whistle of arrows. He didn’t feel the quarrels strike. Darkness caressed him. The abyss offered sweet oblivion and he sank onto his haunches.