March Featured Authors: Janet Elizabeth Lynn and Will Zeilinger
March 1, 2018 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Featured Author of the Month tagged as 1950s, hard-boiled mysteries, Historical Mysteries, Janet Lynn, Will Zeilinger
Published authors Will Zeilinger and Janet Lynn had been writing individually until they got together and wrote the Skylar Drake Mystery Series. These hard-boiled tales are based in old Hollywood of 1955. Janet has published seven mystery novels, and Will has three plus a couple of short stories. Their world travels have sparked several ideas for murder and crime stories. This creative couple is married and lives in Southern California.
Dear Extra Squeeze Team, Do I Really Need an Editor?
February 28, 2018 by The Extra Squeeze in category The Extra Squeeze by The Extra Squeeze Team tagged as critiques, Editors, writing
Dear Extra Squeeze Team, I was an English major in college. Do I really need to hire an editor for my self-published book?
Rebecca Forster
USA Today Bestselling author of 35 books, including the Witness series and the new Finn O’Brien series.
Dear I’m an English Major,
Me, too! That and twenty-five cents won’t get me a cup of coffee much less a polished book. Basically, even if I wrote Elements of Style, even if I was Shakespeare (okay, maybe not Shakespeare), I would still need an editor. Why? Because there are few human beings who can look at their own work objectively. If we could, we would catch ever plot hole, hear every piece of clanging dialogue that ruins our carefully drawn characters, and never miss a pacing problem. We would catch every missing conjunction, misspelled word and wayward apostrophe that found it’s (its) way into its (it’s).
If you’re still not convinced, ask yourself these three questions:
1) Have you ever asked someone if you look fat in a new dress?
2) Have you ever uttered the words ‘what do you think?’ (about anything)
3) Have you ever talked through a problem late into the night with someone you trust?
If the answer to any (or I bet all) of these questions is yes, you need an editor. We search out that critical eye and the honest voice in our lives and we should do the same with our work. Our lives and our books will be better for it.
Love,
Rebecca Forster
USA Today & Amazon Best-selling Author
Flawed English major/content editorial client
Secret Relations, Book #3 in the Finn O’Brien Thriller Series launches March 3, 2018
Read a Snek Peek and get your copy now!
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Happy Reading Everyone!
Jenny Jensen
Developmental editor who has worked for twenty plus years with new and established authors of both fiction and non-fiction, traditional and indie.
Yes!
You may know pluperfect from a transitory verb. You may be meticulously accurate with every comma, semi-colon, quotation mark, em-dash and ellipse. You may be a practiced writer fluent in multiple literary forms, but you cannot read your own work with a neutral, critical eye.
The act of writing is a solitary endeavor. A story is conceived in the mind and is played with, tweaked, adjusted, re-written until it becomes, in the writer’s mind a complete and sensible whole. That process often involves input from other writers and beta readers while the work is in progress. These are trusted voices that become part of the process as you bring the story from your mind to its final form. The input you’ve received has been beneficial in making it a better work. But each of these sources has an investment, either as support from a writers group or from someone, like a relative or friend with a degree of closeness – either way, each source has a personal investment in you. However incidental or deep that investment is, it is not neutral.
Your finished book was hard work; countless rewrites and revisions prompted by your own senses and perhaps the input from those other writers and/or beta readers. It’s time to step away and put the work before neutral eyes. An editor provides that neutral set of eyes; think of it as a reality check.
The only investment an editor has is to help your story be the best it can be. An editor will tell you how you sound to a discerning ear reading the work for the first time. An editor will hear when the pacing begins to drag or a character or plot point is inconsistent. Stilted dialog or rambling narrative will sound to an editor like fingernails on a chalkboard. An editor will hear if what you wrote is actually what you meant. An editor’s job is to tell you precisely what those clinkers are, and if she is good, she will tell you why something doesn’t work and suggest solutions. It’s a collaborative effort.
If you do not feel you need a full content edit then opt for a critical read and respond. At the very least, get a copy/line edit. You cannot always see your mistakes – not the big ones or the small ones. Shamelessly I’ll say I’d love to read your work. And yes, there is a fee – it’s a profession.
Robin Blakely
PR/Business Development coach for writers and artists; CEO, Creative Center of America; member, Forbes Coaches Council.
Extra Squeeze members H.O. Charles and Rebecca Forster have new books.
ASCENT OF ICE by H. O. Charles is available today
The final volume of The Fireblade Array.
Medea is trapped in a fortress made of shadows, Artemi has had her life rent from her yet again, and fate looms over all.
Some heroes battle to save the world from the icy grip of darkness, but others fight to make it darker still.
Will the boundaries between light and night, ice and fire, love and hate ever be restored?
Rebecca Forster’s 3 Finn O’Brien Thriller, SECRET RELATIONS is available for pre-order now with a March 3, 2018 publish date.
The last thing Finn O’Brien wants is to come between his partner and her daughter, but Amber Anderson is desperate for his help. Her new boyfriend, an undocumented immigrant, is missing. Uneasy about keeping a secret from his partner and hindered by the prejudice and politics of the LAPD, Finn is tempted to turn a deaf ear to the girl’s plea – until the first body is found.
H.O. Charles
Cover designer and author of the fantasy series, The Fireblade Array
Yes! EVERYONE needs an editor, and there’s some evidence to suggest that overconfidence can lead to more mistakes!
Marianne is always picking up my typos, so I must be very clever indeed… or too confident. If you want to save money, I would suggest getting a reasonably literate friend or two to read through your drafts. You’ll be surprised how much they pick up. Another thing to consider is what kind of writing you’ve been doing as an English major (ignoring for a moment what you’ve been reading). I did an essay subject at university, but I soon found novel writing employed a whole different raft of writing skills, for which essay writing offered very little foundation. The way I was taught (not sure if different in the US) involved very strict limitations on the usage of commas, third-person perspective, ‘masculine’ statements, rigid paragraph formation etc. etc. All of these rules had to be unlearned.
An editor can also point out the bits where your story might be drifting, find plot holes, and tell you where something needs more explanation. (Note my Oxford comma, which I would NEVER have used in academia!)
Do you have a writing or publishing question?
Send them to the Extra Squeeze Team!
Ever wonder what industry professionals think about the issues that can really impact our careers? Each month The Extra Squeeze features a fresh topic related to books and publishing.
Amazon mover and shaker Rebecca Forster and her handpicked team of book professionals offer frank responses from the POV of each of their specialties — Writing, Editing, PR/Biz Development, and Cover Design.
Remember use our handy dandy contact form to ask a question.
Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh…Some Irish-themed Romance
February 27, 2018 by A Slice of Orange in category Things That Make Me Go Mmmrrh . . . by Geralyn Corcillo tagged as Coach Tour, Gail Ward Olmsted, Hill Harper, Ireland, Irish, Irish romace, Irish Romance, romance, romantic comedy, The Good Doctor, women's fiction
As St. Patrick’s Day draws near, do you long for some Irish-themed romance? I’ve got a few recommendations for you.
Check out Gail Ward Olmsted’s Driving on the Left, a novel about a mother and daughter, Jackie and Becca, who take a coach tour around Ireland. This book weaves together the stories of the mother-daughter bond and friction, the daughter’s romance with an Irish hottie, and the mother’s continuing romance with her husband. And what a deliciously relaxing read! Off to beautiful Ireland, for one thing. But oh, the brilliance of the two characters, Jackie and Becca. Becca, especially – Olmsted NAILS the dramatic ups and downs of a 
twenty-one year old in love. Becca’s passion for her new-found love, her fierce desire for independence, her warm and gooey love for her parents, her bursts of immaturity – JUST SO PERFECT. And Jackie! What a bubble bath of a character to sink into! I just really really wanted to see how it all worked out and I wasn’t disappointed. This book is SUCH a treat.
If you long to relax in front of the television watching a charming, romantic film about Ireland, consider The Nephew (1998). American teenager Chad (Hill Harper) brings his mother’s ashes to her hometown in Ireland. There, Chad finds love and uncovers years of secrets, betrayals, and feuding. Does this kid from America have what it takes to heal the scars of the past? I have just adored Hill Harper ever since I saw this movie 20 years ago, and I am so excited to be watching Hill Harper every Monday night now as the Chief of Surgery on The Good Doctor. Check out this trailer for The Nephew.
What Irish-themed stories can you recommend?
Tari Jewett
February 26, 2018 by marianne h donley in category Featured Author of the Month tagged as boxed set, Debut Author, romantic comedy, Tari Lynn Jewett
Tari Lynn Jewett lives in Arizona just off Route 66 with her husband of more than thirty years (aka Hunky Hubby). They have 3 amazing sons, and 2 beautiful grandsons. For more than fifteen years Tari wrote freelance for magazines and newspapers, wrote television commercials, radio spots, numerous press releases, and many, MANY PTA newsletters. As much as she loved writing those things, she always wanted to write fiction…and now she is.
Tari writes light, fun romcoms, but she is also working on a historical women’s fiction series set in the Los Angeles area, spanning from the late 1920’s to the ‘50’s. These are darker, edgier full length novels.
A voracious reader, Tari’s favorite treat is to turn off her phone and computer and curl up with an un-put-downable book.
She also believes in happily-ever-afters,
…because she’s living hers.
Website: http://tarilynnjewett.com/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/tarilynnjewett
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/tarilynnjewett
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/tari-lynn-jewett
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/tarilynnjewett/
Facebook Group Tari Lynn & Friends: https://www.facebook.com/groups/501972056849831
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tarilynnjewett/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TariLynnJewett
Texas Sweethearts from Mindy Neff
February 24, 2018 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Guest Posts, Spotlight tagged as contemporary romance, Cowboys, Mindy Neff, Texas Sweethearts
Welcome to Hope, Texas home of the Texas Sweethearts—where gossip’s hotter than three-alarm chili and even the good guys wear black.
This month we are pleased to share an excerpt from the first book in the series Courted by a Cowboy by Mindy Neff.
Courted by a Cowboy
Mindy Neff
Chapter One
If today had been a fish, Sunny Carmichael would’ve pitched it right back into the water.
She swept up the broken water glass and dumped it into the trash can, adding the clear shards to the shattered jelly jar already there. The jar’s sticky contents lay smeared over the crumpled paper plates and napkins like a gooey mosaic decorating the den.
Putting away the broom, she noticed that her Doc Martens made sucking noises on the faux marble floor. Oh, well, she thought, sitting down at the kitchen table. She wasn’t the greatest housecleaner. Animals were her forte.
Simba lumbered over and rested his huge head on her knee, looking up at her with velvety brown eyes that had snagged her the moment she’d seen him in the pound four years ago, surrounded by a litter of kittens. Part Labrador retriever, part Irish Wolfhound, and part who-knows-what, he was roughly the size of a month-old colt, with a tail that could knock a bull on his butt in one exuberant swoop, and a canine smile that apologized beforehand for his clumsiness.
“What’s next, Simba? Mama says things break in threes. We’ve had two in one day…” She patted Simba’s wide skull. “Three, if you count Michael.”
Michael Lawrey had been her fiancé for the past two years—until three days ago, when he’d dumped her. Wealthy, passably handsome and powerful, he was on a political climb with an eye toward the governor’s seat.
Evidently, he’d decided she no longer fit in with his plans.
Sunny stared at the sticky floor, but couldn’t work up the energy to do anything about it. She was bored and vaguely upset, when she should have been totally torn up. After all, the man she was to marry had chucked her. Something was wrong that she felt more embarrassed and inadequate than heartbroken.
She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Here she was on a beautiful summer Saturday evening, sitting alone in a plush condo in Malibu.
Finding herself all alone felt weird. The condo was quiet. The right side of both the bathroom cabinet and bedroom closet were empty. Michael had always stored his personal items for the nights he stayed over on the right because he was left-handed. He claimed it gave him more elbow room to brush his teeth, blow-dry his hair and dress.
“Why in the world didn’t I object to the way he’d taken over?” she asked Simba. “It’s my house. Maybe I would have preferred the right side.”
Simba’s tongue snaked out to lick her wrist. His eyes darted away as though he had no idea who’d delivered that sandpapery slobbering caress. It was a vice she’d yet to break him from. Like a chocoholic sneaking sugar, Simba sneaked licks.
Lately, he was the only mammal she cuddled, and that seemed wrong. Her love of animals was part of her life, a soul connection, deep and profound. It was what had compelled her to become a veterinarian in the first place.
The phone rang, and Sunny jumped. She didn’t immediately answer, even considered letting the machine pick up. By damn, she wasn’t up to a pity call now—or talking to some shallow gossipmonger spouting false concern just to get the skinny on what had happened between her and Michael.
By the time she got to the phone, the machine had switched on. The sound of her mother’s heavy Texas drawl made her stomach lurch.
Just what she needed. A lecture from her mom on the merits of hanging on to a man. Still, nothing said she had to tell her mother about the breakup. Anna Carmichael was clear over in Austin. It wasn’t as if she would know what was going on in Los Angeles.
Sighing, Sunny finally reached for the receiver. “I’m here, Mama,” she said, cutting off Anna in mid-syllable.
“Oh, I’m so glad I caught you at home. This being a Saturday night, I worried you and Michael would be out.”
“Michael’s out.” Literally. “I’m not.” Obviously.
Anna paused. “Is everything all right? Are you and Michael having troubles?”
Sunny sighed again. Trust her mother to hone in on the “man” angle. Accurately this time, damn it. She ought to keep her mouth shut, but knew she wouldn’t. Some strange failing inside her made her feel that she was sinning if she didn’t admit every little thing to her mother.
“Michael and I are splitsville.”
“Excuse me?”
“We broke up.”
“Oh, Sunny. What did you do?”
“Me?” Her voice trembled despite her efforts to keep it even. “Why do you assume it’s something I did?”
“Perhaps I stated that poorly. You misunderstood.” Sunny didn’t think so. She’d spent twenty-nine years trying to measure up to her mother’s expectations and Southern standards of what a woman should be. She didn’t think she’d hit the mark yet.
“Sunny?” Anna said when the silence stretched. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine, Mama.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say. Michael and I were trying to mesh our calendars and carve out a convenient time for a honeymoon, but he seemed to have a conflict with every date I chose.” More likely, he hadn’t wanted to take time off. He’d reminded her that they were both aiming for the top of their respective fields, and it was imperative that they not let the competition get there first.
“He is busy, Sunny.”
She felt her insides clench, but continued on with the conversation. “Yes, but so am I. Which is neither here nor there at the moment, since there won’t be a honeymoon, anyway.”
“Is this a problem the two of you might overcome?”
Sunny leaned against the kitchen counter. “No, Mama. Despite what you might think of me and my single status, I do want children and a family someday. Michael doesn’t.”
“Not at all?” Anna sounded scandalized.
Sunny found she could smile after all. Her mother believed in family, reminded Sunny and her brother, Storm, at every opportunity that she wanted to be a grandmother, that it wasn’t fair Trudy Fay Simon continually lorded it over her about her fifth grandchild when Anna had yet to claim even one.
“Not at all,” Sunny echoed.
“Well. I knew that man wasn’t right for you in the first place. He had one of those phony-politician smiles. His teeth were simply too perfect”
Sunny felt her heart soften. She and her mother had had their trials, but when it came down to it they were family. And even if they didn’t often agree, family stuck together. “He paid a fortune so those teeth would be perfect.”
“Figures. So what will you do now?”
“Actually, I’ve taken some vacation time so I don’t have to answer a lot of questions.” “Then I called at the right moment. Come home, Sunny. Your room’s just as you left it.” Returning home was an ongoing argument, one they had often. Anna didn’t seem to respect or place any importance on what Sunny did in California. “You know I can’t—”
“You must. We’ve got trouble and we need you in Hope Valley. You’re the only one we can trust to handle it.”
Sunny was momentarily speechless. Her mother had admitted a need. That was a first. But Sunny could only focus on the words Hope Valley. Her hometown was a blip on the
Texas map. It lay just west of Austin, where verdant grass carpeted the ground in a feast for the eyes, and livestock grazed contentedly on ranches that ranged from small family operations to million-dollar enterprises. The town was quaint, and truly Southern in attitude. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, and the townsfolk accepted it as their God-given right to pass along every morsel of gossip that came their way.
Sunny had been born and raised in Hope Valley. Her family and her childhood friends were there. She’d lived and laughed and loved there.
And she’d had her heart broken there.
What she felt now after her split with Michael was nothing compared to the devastation she’d suffered in Hope Valley ten years earlier.
She twisted the phone cord around her finger and closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself. Simba, who’d been lying on the cool kitchen floor, scrambled to his feet and pushed against her leg in his canine version of a hug. How this goofy-looking dog was so attuned to her every emotion was uncanny.
“What kind of trouble?”
“On Jack Slade’s ranch. Now, hear me out,” Anna said, obviously knowing Sunny was about to object. They’d made a shaky deal years ago not to discuss Jackson Slade. Anna didn’t always keep up her end of the bargain. Especially when Hope Valley had been close to economic ruin and Jack had returned to town like a prodigal son. He’d taken over his father’s ranch and turned it into a highly prosperous spread.
From the moment he’d come back to the small community, everything he touched seemed to thrive. Where once he’d been a motorcycle-riding, earring-wearing, bronc-busting heartbreaker, now he was Hope Valley’s golden boy, and there were very few people around these parts who weren’t eternally grateful to him. According to Anna Carmichael, the guy had single-handedly made the town flourish once more.
Of course, Anna rarely missed a chance to remind her daughter what she’d given up.
Sunny rubbed her temples where a headache was forming. “I’m listening.” “This is for your ears only, and it could well be nothing.”
“What, Mama?” She wasn’t in the mood for a whispering campaign.
“Jack’s had some cattle up and die on him. We don’t want Hope Valley splashed across the national newspapers, with speculations on mad cow disease or something.”
Her fingers tightened on the receiver. “Does Jack think it’s mad cow?” The thought was horrifying. So far, livestock in the United States had escaped that epidemic. More t han likely her mother was only using the term because it was familiar.
“I don’t know, dear. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“How many cattle?”
“One or two, I think.”
“Only in Jack’s herd?”
“So I’ve heard.”
“What does the vet say? What are the symptoms?”
“Honestly, Sunny, I’m not the one to be asking these questions. You need to come see for yourself.”
“The vet, Mama…” she prompted.
Anna sighed. “Doc Levin skipped town. We have no earthly idea why. Just packed up his belongings and that young lady he’d taken up with, and left us high and dry. And it’s just as well, if you ask me. He never did fit in. We need one of our own here, Sunny. Someone who cares about us. To investigate, to get to the bottom of this sudden illness, give us an unbiased report so we can handle it quickly among ourselves.”
That was how the people of Hope Valley had always operated. As a community. “If it’s just a couple of steers, that’s hardly an epidemic. Still, you know I’m bound by law to report any outbreaks of infectious diseases once they’re confirmed.”
“Yes, I’m aware of all that, and I’m certainly not advocating we hide anything. But we can trust you not to jump the gun. You’re the best there is, Sunny Leigh. The only one who can do this. We don’t want to be gettin’ the wrong dog by the tail and startin’ an uproar of hysteria.”
Sunny slid down the kitchen cabinet and sat on the floor. Her heart pounded and her brain felt fuzzy.
You’re the best there is, Sunny Leigh.
How many years had she yearned to hear those words? Words of acceptance. Of praise. From her mother.
This was truly out of character for Anna. Sunny had rarely gotten more than a “That’s nice, dear” when she’d called home with career news.
Now Jack was in trouble. It bugged her that even after all these years, Anna’s immediate concern was for him, not her own daughter. But this was the first time her mother had reached out to her, hinted at pride in Sunny’s successes, recognition for the professional she’d become, acceptance of the choices she’d made.
You’re the only one who can do this. Powerful words to a woman who’d longed for years to hear them.
Sunny looped her arm around Simba’s thick neck. She had a month’s vacation and comp time coming to her. Lord knows her life in Los Angeles hadn’t turned out the way she’d thought it would.
She could use some weeks away, time to reflect on the influence her relationship with Michael had had on who she’d become.
Because if she was truthful, she’d have to admit that what she’d started out wanting in the beginning had morphed into something entirely different.
She needed to clear her head. Go back to chasing her dream. Learn to be a woman who stood firmly on her own two feet, made solid decisions based on the facts as she saw them, and stuck by them.
And by God, the lure of showing her mother her expertise was too great to ignore.
Plus, the opportunity to connect with true friends, the kind you could always depend on, was a draw she couldn’t resist.
Sunny, Donetta Presley, Tracy Lynn Randolph and Becca Sue Ellsworth had called themselves the Texas Sweethearts. They’d formed their secret society when they were kids. Even years and miles hadn’t dampened their bond. Seeing her pals again would be good.
“I’ll square things away here and be out there by Wednesday,” she said.
The problem was, if an infectious disease was plaguing Jackson Slade’s cattle, even
Wednesday might be too late to save his herd.
Mindy Neff is the award-winning author of over thirty novels and novellas. Her contemporary romances touch the heart, tug at the reader’s emotions, and always, without fail, have a happy ending.
Mindy is the recipient of the National Reader’s Choice Award, the Orange Rose Award of Excellence, the Romantic Times Career Achievement award and the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award, as well as W.I.S.H. awards for outstanding heroes, and two prestigious RITA nominations.
Originally from Louisiana, Mindy moved to Southern California where she met and married a very romantic guy a little over thirty years ago. They blended their families, his three kids and her two, and have been living happily (if a little insanely) ever after. Now, when she isn’t meddling in the lives of her five kids and ten grandchildren, Mindy hides out with a good book, hot sunshine, and a chair at the river’s edge at her second home along the Parker Strip in Arizona.
Mindy loves to hear from readers. You can email her at mindy@mindyneff.com.
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