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Friday, September 21, 2012

KJ Dahlen, her bucket list, and Blood Memories

Kim lives in a small town (population495) in Wisconsin. From her deck she can see the Mississippi River on one side and the bluffs, where eagles live and nest on the other side. She lives with her husband Dave and dog Sammy. Her two children are grown and she has two grandchildren. She loves to watch people and that has helped her with her writing. She loves to create characters and put them in a troubling situation then sit back and let them do all the work. Her characters surprise even her at times. At some point in the book they take on a life of their own and the twists and turns become the story. Of all the stories she could write she found she liked mystery/thrillers the best. She likes to keep her readers guessing until the very end of the book.

Email: kjdahlen1@yahoo.com

Web site: www.kjdahlen.com

I am on facebook and twitter as kjdahlen

My blog is on facebook at K.J.’s blog

  Top three things on my bucket list-



Well I don’t really have a bucket list yet but if I did,



1. I know the love of family and friends, I’ve been married to my best friend for almost 37 years. I have two wonderful kids and two wonderful grandkids, as well as a host of great friends, I guess I would wish for them to be happy and prosper. Family is and should be number one in my book I guess I would want to leave them well set up. I would like to make enough money from selling my books so they wouldn’t have to struggle to make ends meet. Although when you think about, the struggle is a part of life and how you do it defines you as a person and a couple.



2. For one of my books to get to the number 1 spot, NY’s best sellers list and be made into a movie



I guess that goes without saying for any writer or artist. For me it would be thrilling just to be recognized, even if for a fleeting moment.



3. To have my fifteen minutes of fame- again I would like to be recognized as a good writer. I do realize there are better writers out there, but as selfish as it sounds I would like my fifteen minutes. This is my list after all.





These are the things that matter to me, in the order they belong.



BLURB:



When an accident turns out to be not an accident but murder Savannah must solve a double murder that happened over twenty years ago to find the truth. She was the only witness to her parent’s murder and now their killer is after her. She puts her trust into a man her aunt has known and all these years but evidence soon points to him being involved with the man she thinks killed her parents. Will she prove him innocent or fall prey to his intent? Her life and over two million dollars in diamonds is at stake.





Excerpt



As the dirt hit the casket, the sound it made echoed through the cemetery and caused Savannah to flinch. The sound was so final but then so was death. Savannah's heart was breaking as she listened to the thud of the earth hitting the wood of her aunt's final resting place. She glanced at the temporary headstone marker. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she read the name on the marker, Donna Marie Kelley.



A voice inside her head screamed at her that the name on the headstone was wrong. It should have read Donna Marie Weston, not Kelley. Donna had been the one person in her young life who protected her after her parents died. She was the one who held Savannah when she was sick or the nightmares got the best of her. Donna had been there to make her laugh and kept her safe all these years.



Donna had died four days ago in a car accident. Her car plunged off the road and down into a ravine. The paramedics said she might have lived if help had arrived right after the accident, but Donna wasn't found until the next day. She had been all alone and in pain when death came to call.



Tears slid down her cheeks as she thought of how long Donna had suffered. The medical examiner's report told her that Donna suffered two broken legs and a fractured rib. The rib punctured her lung and eventually her abdomen filled with blood. The coroner had determined she bled to death internally. The police were looking into the accident, but she knew there was nothing they could do. There wasn't anything anyone could do. Donna was gone and now she was alone in the world.



Savannah glanced at the temporary marker again. She knew Donna wouldn't want her real name on her final resting place but she was tempted to put it there. Savannah George wasn't her real name either. She had been born Georgia Michelle Corbin, but she hadn't been called Georgia for a long, long time, almost a life time, her lifetime.



Glancing toward the sky, Savannah could see the dark gray clouds. It looked as dreary outside as she felt inside. Donna's death had been the result of a car accident, and Savannah hadn't had time to think about her future yet.



Savannah had turned her head to watch the sound when she felt someone walk up behind her. Spinning around she saw a man she didn't know standing there. He was tall and blonde with a full beard. His dark grey eyes were somber as he glanced at the grave in front of him. He turned to look at Savannah before he spoke. "Hello, my name is Jack Russell. I'm sorry to disturb you at a time like this, but I was your aunt's attorney."



Savannah grimaced. She stared at the older, well -dressed man standing in front of her and couldn't help but wonder why Donna felt the need for an attorney. "I wasn't aware she had an attorney," she finally said.



Jack tilted his head. "I haven't had contact with her for a number of years but she first came to see me nine years ago. She told me she had just moved to Seattle, and she wanted me to keep something for her. She gave me this package to give to you upon her death."



Savannah accepted the package from him and glanced at it. She raised her gaze back to Jack's face. "Did she tell you what was in this package?"



Jack stared at her for a moment. "She told me to say you would find the answers to all the questions you wanted to know growing up in there. She said you would find out why she had to keep you safe and a mystery only you could solve." He hesitated, "I didn't know your aunt very well, but I'm sorry she died."



Savannah watched as he turned and walked away. The package she held was heavy, and her curiosity was getting the better of her. She caught her breath as she glanced at the package and saw Donna's handwriting on the outside. She had written her name on the package.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

New TV season

Anyone else excited for Revolution and Last Resort? Revolution is DVR'ed and will be watched this weekend. Last Resort isn't on until next week.

Granted, the blond Revolution revolves around looks like she'll annoy me quickly, and last season when I watched ABC for Pan Am they cancelled it almost immediately. It was the first time I'd watched an ABC show in ages.

What other shows are you interested in this season?

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Blast: The Soul Within

About Nancy:

Nancy’s addiction for a good trash novel began in her late-teens when her grandmother gave her a bag of Harlequin Romance books. She was hooked and spent the next few years lurking in the dark corners of used bookstores searching for her next fix. Until, one marriage and two kids later, her own ideas had her jumping up at 3 am (much to her husband’s annoyance) and typing them into her laptop. Beside her husband and children, Nancy has three passions, rearranging furniture, buying bed linens and, of course, writing. Nancy lives in Eastern Ontario with her family and two over sized lap dogs. 

How to find her:
 
BLURB:

Alex’s body is in a coma. His soul, however, is not. Desperate to become whole, he must first convince stubborn beauty Evening Sinclair that he is not dead.

For generations, the Sinclairs have been healers. Using a gentle touch to heal the body and a soothing word to heal the soul, Evening Sinclair is no different. Yet despite her secret abilities, Eve has a somewhat normal existence. She enjoys her small physiotherapy practice, dotes on her eight-year-old daughter and occasionally helps souls get back into their bodies-that is until Alex, with his brooding good looks and glowing eyes, appears in her kitchen.

Alex is desperate to get back into his body-two innocent lives depend on it. His only obstacle is Eve and her stubborn fear. Unfortunately for Eve, Alex is ruthless and just as stubborn. He will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He will not 'go away' and no matter how much Eve tortures him with her lush body and perfect mouth, he will not change his mind. Eve will merge him, and if it takes him haunting her day and night, she will merge him back with a body-any body.

Excerpt:

 “Go. Please,” she implored again. The look on her face caused him to frown. Not because she had recited those words, yet again, to him but because he was actually considering giving her what she wanted and leaving her alone. He wished he could give her that, but he wouldn’t. Besides, he didn’t like it when people lied to him and she was lying. She was capable of putting him back into his body—he read it on her face, in the movement of her hands and body.

The Guardian Project had spent long hours and millions of dollars teaching their soldiers how to read and interrupt body language. After all, if the people he hunted were on his kill list, they’d been good enough to avoid traditional police and military forces and he had to be better in order to stop them.

Deep in his gut he knew there was more—she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. Shit she wasn’t really telling him anything. It didn’t matter—he would not walk away just because Eve was scared. He would not let Miles kill Jillian. She and her baby would live.

He shook his head. “No.”

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I won’t help you.”

 “Yes you will.” He took a step closer to her. “And I’m going to haunt you until you give me what I want.”

 “Haunt me.” Her eyes grew wide as a shiver shook her from head to toe.

 “Mmm.” He winked. “I’m not leaving your side until you put me back in my body.”
Heavy footsteps echoed on the front porch.

 “No,” she whispered, her eyebrows pressed together. “I won’t help you.”

 “Yes. You. Will.”

Where to buy:
All Romance
Amazon
Total-E-Bound

Monday, September 17, 2012

Heroes Live Forever, Medieval Knights, and Love

About Chris Karlsen:
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.

My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.

I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream.

I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, four rescue dogs and a rescue horse.

Chris Karlsen
Facebook

Chris will be giving away a digital copy of her thriller, "Golden Chariot" to one randomly drawn commenter at every stop, and a $50 Amazon gift card to another randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

BLURB:
Elinor Hawthorne has inherited a house haunted by the ghosts of two medieval knights, Basil Manneville and Guy Guiscard. Basil is the man of her dreams, her knight in shining armor. She falls in love with him and he with her. Basil soon realizes she needs to live a normal life, a happy life with a mortal.

A lifetime later fate intervenes. Basil, still in love with Elinor, is told her spirit lives on in a young woman and he is given another chance at life to find her.

Excerpt:

At the top of the stairs, goose bumps suddenly dotted Elinor’s skin and the hair on her arms stood on end. She glanced back, but didn’t see anything strange, or more to the point, Lucy’s ghost knight.

Amazon
Barnes and Noble

Friday, September 14, 2012

K. Victoria Chase, The Santiago Brothers, and Christian Romance


From childhood, bestselling author K. Victoria Chase enjoyed writing stories and plays and reading Christian romance. She received degrees in Criminal Justice and Diplomacy and worked as a federal law enforcement officer for several years before deciding to try her hand at writing a complete novel.

Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) is the third completed work and the first published by Desert Breeze Publishing. Book two of the series, Marked by the Mob, will be released in November 2012. She has recently signed with Astraea Press for the first in her Santiago Brothers series, the Amazon bestselling Rafael.

Until she can make writing a full-time venture, K. Victoria Chase continues to work in the field of counterterrorism, identifying potential terrorists that threaten the United States and the world. She currently resides in Leesburg, VA and writes both clean and Christian interracial romance.

Website

Blog

Twitter

Facebook
Goodreads

K. Victoria will be awarding a $10 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commnter during the tour

Blurb:

The last time Detective Genie Green let a man humiliate her was her college sweetheart—never again. Yet, when former high school lothario Rafael Santiago returns to town as the consulting detective on her case, Genie’s rule of never allowing another man to best her is challenged. Can she trust him long enough to solve this case and get the glory?


Rafa can’t seem to outrun his delinquent past. When The Snakes, a criminal organization he used to belong to, begin murdering people from his hometown, he has a chance to right some of his past wrongs. Will arresting the murderers be enough to redeem him, or will a certain beautiful detective pay the ultimate price instead?

A Christian interracial romantic suspense.

Excerpt:


Rafa pinched the space between his eyes. He had been on hold for the last five minutes waiting for his contact in San Diego’s FBI White Collar Crime Department to answer the line. It was almost five in the morning on the west coast but Rafa knew the man got an early start to the day. Rafa clocked in around six, not wanting to be outdone by Genie, but when he arrived her chair sat empty. As the minutes ticked by, cups of coffee added up and Rafa grew more and more irritated. Not so much at Genie for taking her sweet time to come in, but at the slow progress on the case. He dismissed the fact he had only been here a day.


A whiff of sweet perfume drew his mind away from the dry music on the phone to a female figure passing by his desk. Genie. She didn’t acknowledge him when she sat down until after carefully placing her purse underneath her desk, moving the mouse to wake the computer, and glancing around the top of the desk. She raised her eyes to his. The dark brown depths were strangely intense. Before he could mouth a hello she smiled. Her eyes softened and her mouth formed the silent greeting.


“Rafael? Rafa are you there? Rafa I can hear you breathing.”

Friday, September 7, 2012

Christy McKee, Travelling, and Maybe too Good to Be True

Isabel,


Thank you so much for having me on your blog today. Travel is my favorite thing to do so this was a fun post for me.

Christy

I hope everyone will leave a comment. I’ll be giving away a free copy of Maybe Too Good to Be True at each blog stop. You must include your email so I can contact the winner. At the end of my month of touring I’ll be giving a $30 Amazon gift card.

About Christy:
My addiction to reading emerged when I was ten and down with measles. My mother, trying to keep me entertained, brought home a stack of Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew books. Within days, I’d consumed them all and asked for more. That’s when it truly began−the pleasure of reading which would eventually lead to my writing.


I can’t pin point precisely when I knew I was different from everyone else−at least from my tight group of hometown friends. Didn’t everyone have movies playing in their heads starring beautiful characters leading adventurous lives in exotic places? NO—they did not. Did that mean they were normal and I was the odd, slightly wacky duck? My answer to that conundrum came when I attended my first writer’s conference in Savannah. Nervous about being on my own at the crowded event, a kindly writer from Texas took me under her wing and introduced me to at least a dozen writers. Surrounded by so many writers who were so like me, I fit right in. I wasn’t an “odd” duck after all; I’d simply been in the wrong pond!
As a result of that conference, my desire and conviction to write blossomed. Still working a full time job at a Louisiana cancer center, I carved out time to write every night and on weekends. My first manuscript went through four incarnations, and a year under the bed, before success came knocking.

Today my family and our two Labs—Lambeau, the Green Bay Packers unofficial mascot and Gracie, who is just plain, sweet Amazing Grace—live in a picturesque little town in Ohio wrapped around a lovely town square with an intricately carved gazebo where weekly band concerts take place all summer long.

Christy McKee
And Christy's Blog
Be sure to follow her on Twitter!
Best Vacation Ever

My favorite vacation was a trip with my husband and another couple to the British Isles. We’d done Alaska the year before and had such a good time together; we decided we were ready to venture farther afield to England and Scotland. For me, planning is half the fun of any trip and our friends seemed to be fine with that. It was to be a castle, genealogy and pub tour. Our friends did have one request. They wanted to see Princess Diana’s childhood home.

My husband was determined to rent a car for the England portion of our trip and was willing to do all of the driving—the rest of us had adamantly refused. The car we had reserved was too small for our luggage so we had to rent their biggest car which took up entirely too much room on the very narrow streets. The minute we pulled out of Gatwick airport, we were fed into a whirling roundabout. I knew we would all be killed before we’d even seen our first castle.

Before going in to London, we spent a few days in the country, visiting Hever Castle, childhood home of Anne Boleyn, a distant relative. Outside the bedroom that was said to be hers, was a letter encased in glass that Anne had written to her husband Henry while she was held in the Tower of London awaiting her execution. It was both chilling and painfully sad to read.

We moved on to London and visited the Tower, Trafalgar Square and finally Westminster Abbey. It’s steeped in centuries of hanging banners, burial place of kings, queens, princes, poets, authors and hundreds of royals. The tombs of Elizabeth I and her sister, Mary, were my favorites. At the time of our visit, there were elderly men walking about in long, black robes— looking like our judges— who were available to answer questions. I asked one of them where Oliver Cromwell’s burial site was. The man told me that Cromwell had been buried in Westminster in 1658 but in 1661, when Charles II returned to the throne, Cromwell’s body was ordered to be removed. He was then hanged and later his head was put on a pike in front of Westminster Hall. I was weak with relief that I hadn’t told the man, I was a descendent. He might have booted me out.

Before heading north on the train to Scotland, we travelled to Althorp House, the childhood home of Princess Diana. At the time, the house and exhibition were only opened July to the end of August and you had to buy tickets in advance, which I had done. The house was beautiful with original furnishings, and family portraits lining the stair cases. What I found interesting was the condition of the house; it looked like a family lived there—which they did and had for five hundred years. I remember walking through one of the large rooms and, there in the midst of valuable antiques and treasures, stood a portable Sony television. It looked so out of place but it made me smile. A family definitely lived there. It might look like a museum, but it was also a home.

The stables—more luxurious than any you would see in Lexington or Louisville, Kentucky—were home to Diana’s exhibition. There were continuous movies of her as a child growing up. Several of her gowns were on display and also hundreds of condolence books from all over the world. Not far from the house is a lovely lake with an island in the middle. This is where Princess Diana was buried. It was so peaceful; you could just imagine a little girl and her brother playing around the lake. It’s one of the most serene places I’ve ever been.

For the last leg of our trip we took the train north into Scotland and checked into our small hotel in Edinburgh. I’d been there about seventeen years before and had fallen in love with the ancient city and was anxious for my husband and friends to explore it. Sitting on a bench in a large, shady, treed park is perfect for seeing Edinburgh Castle for the first time. Perched atop a craggy mountain, it looks like an impregnable fortress. In the same park is the famous flower clock.

Jenners is the oldest department store in Edinburgh and a short walk from the park. My husband and I decided to explore a little and separated to look on our own and search for a few souvenirs. First let me say that I collect Lladro figurines and most of them are gifts from my husband. When we met outside Jenners an hour later, my hands were empty and he had a large shopping bag and seemed exceptionally proud of his purchase. Together, we walked back down to the park to wait for our friends.

My husband said, “I told the sales lady in the china department that this one purchase I knew I wouldn’t be returning.” He handed me the bag and I pulled out a large rectangular box with a color photograph on the side. It was Lladro, a woman with two bunnies. I must have sighed out loud.

“Don’t you like it?” He frowned.

“I love it.” That restored a smile to his face.

“And I loved it when you gave it to me last year on my birthday.”

Christy, Thanks for sharing about your trip! I absolutely love this story, it's perfect.

BLURB:


Gabrielle March is summoned to an oceanfront estate in Massachusetts by the matriarch of Atlantic-Hastings International where she is presented with a hefty block of shares as amends for a crime committed against her family. The stock—worth several million dollars—can give her the means to make her dream come true if only she can muster the courage to break free from her past and believe in her unique creative talent.

Pierce Hastings, son of Gabrielle’s benefactress, grudgingly agrees to take her under his wing and acclimate her to Atlantic-Hastings. Never one to mix business with pleasure, Pierce stuns himself when he ignores his own self imposed rule. Gabrielle’s complete lack of artifice, unvarnished honesty and quirky sense of humor are intoxicating to him―and he’s rapidly becoming addicted. He’s blindsided when Gabrielle confesses that, in spite of her growing feelings for him, she will never fit into his world of power and privilege and has no desire to try.

Excerpt

“The fact is, Mr. Hastings, it is not a reporter’s job to be favorable. They are in the business of finding and reporting the truth.”

"Nobly put, Miss March.” The woman certainly didn’t pull any punches.

“I hope this will put you at ease, Mr. Hastings. I own the newspaper. It’s been several years since I single-handedly set out to ruin anyone.”

Sarcasm, even with a lovely Southern accent, was still sarcasm.

"I see.” Pierce sounded duly impressed. “That’s certainly an accomplishment for such a young …” He froze when her eyes narrowed. What the hell was wrong with him? He careened from one blunder to the next.

"Tell me, is it my age or the fact that I’m a woman that bothers you?” Her face was considerably more colorful than the rest of her and he knew it had nothing to do with the heat.

Pierce was no chauvinist and certainly had no prejudice against successful females. After all, he’d been married to a talented trial attorney. Hadn’t he put his wife through law school? Hadn’t he supported Glenna in every way until she made partner in her firm and then announced that she’d changed her mind about having children and, by the way, she didn’t want to be his wife anymore either.

"I didn't mean that you weren't responsible.” His eyes returned to the very entertaining Miss March who had just snapped up the ball and was ready to run with it.

"What would someone like you know about responsibility anyway? You've probably never put in an honest day’s work in your entire over-privileged life. Flying around the world trying to stay one step ahead of reality. One of these days you’re going to have to come down to earth and see what it’s like in the real world.”

Where did the woman get her information? She’d obviously pegged him as some sort of wealthy derelict. Fired up, she was something. Misinformed maybe, but she had balls of steel. "For a newspaper woman, you’re lacking in your facts, Miss...."

Amazon

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