Making Your Story Believable by Kat Martin
May 29, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Guest Posts tagged as intrigue, Kat Martin, new release, romance, romantic suspense, Suspense, woman's fiction
Over the years, I’ve found one of the best ways to make your story believable is to use real places to locate the action and real names of restaurants and streets. Actually going there, of course, is the best way to make that happen.
In my new novella, COME MIDNIGHT, Breanna Winters, seated on an airliner next to a good-looking man in an expensive suit, finds herself kidnapped by Honduran terrorists. She doesn’t expect Derek Stiles, a corporate executive, to put his life at risk by volunteering to go along when Bree is dragged from the plane and marched into the jungle.
Unfortunately, I have never been to the jungle in Honduras or any jungle for that matter, aside from a brief visit to a tropical rain forest in Brazil and a stop in Belize.
So for this story, I didn’t go to Honduras, but I did do extensive research, and it wasn’t the first time. Beginning with with an old historical, SAVANNAH HEAT, set in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico and more recently, THE CONSPIRACY, which travels from the Caribbean to Columbia, I’ve learned a lot about life in the jungle—and it is far from easy.
In the novella, the good news is Derek Stiles is a former Navy fighter pilot with extensive survival training who has spent time in the jungle before. Still, it’s soon clear they’ll need to depend on each other if they’re going to survive.
I hope you will give COME MIDNIGHT a try and that you will look for Derek again in my full-length novel, THE PERFECT MURDER, out June 22nd, the last book in my Maximum Security Series
Till next time, all best wishes and happy reading, Kat
New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin is a graduate of the University of California at Santa Barbara where she majored in Anthropology and also studied History. Currently residing in Missoula, Montana with her Western-author husband, L. J. Martin, Kat has written sixty-five Historical and Contemporary Romantic Suspense novels. More than sixteen million copies of her books are in print and she has been published in twenty foreign countries. Kat is currently at work on her next Romantic Suspense.
Excerpt
Come Midnight
Kat Martin
The sound of a baby’s high-pitched, incessant crying put his teeth on edge. Derek Stiles forced himself to relax as he settled back in his wide business class seat. The airplane engines hummed outside the window, dulling the noise a little, but the crying only grew louder.
Derek silently cursed. His trip to Colombia had already gotten off to a rocky start when a meeting in the Houston office of Garrett Resources, where he worked as VP of Mergers and Acquisitions, ran overtime and he’d missed his non-stop flight. Now he’d be landing in El Salvador, laying over a couple of hours before changing planes and continuing on to Bogota, not getting to his hotel until well after dark.
He pulled out his laptop and set it on the fold-down table in front of him. He usually worked on a flight. He always had plenty to do, but he’d been staying up late every night so he also needed some sleep. It was important to be at the top of his game first thing in the morning.
The baby’s cries grew louder and his nerves revved up. He hadn’t really noticed the woman sitting in the seat beside him until she stood up and turned toward mother and child in the row behind him.
She jangled her car keys over the back of the seat and smiled. “Look, baby. Look at these. I bet you’d like to play with these, wouldn’t you?” The baby’s crying slowed, turned to whimpers, then sniffles, then stopped altogether. Glancing over his shoulder, Derek watched a little girl bundled in pink, maybe a year old, reach up for the car keys.
“I never thought of that,” the mother said, sounding desperate and making him feel guilty. He didn’t have kids but he could imagine how tough it would be to take a child on an international flight.
The mom, a black-haired woman in her mid-twenties, took out her own set of keys and held them up, but the baby ignored them, fascinated by the glittering heart on the end of the other keychain dangling in front of her.
“I hate to ask you this,” the mother said, “but is it all right if Sophie plays with your keys for a while?”
“Absolutely,” his seatmate said. She was pretty, he realized, with long blond hair and big blue eyes. A little above average height, slender but curvy in all the right places. “Once we’re in the air,” she continued, “if you want me to hold her, give you a little break, I’d be happy to.”
The mother’s smile held relief mixed with gratitude. “I might just take you up on that. My name is Carmen, by the way.”
“Breanna.” Her smile went even brighter and Derek felt an unexpected kick. He was usually able to leave his libido behind when he was away on business.
“You have a darling baby,” Breanna said.
Carmen smiled. “Thank you.”
The flight attendant urged Breanna to sit back down so the flight could get underway, and the engines roared, preparing for take-off.
“So I guess you’re a mom,” Derek heard himself saying, though he made it a habit not to talk on a flight. He always had too much to do.
Breanna shifted toward him. “I’d love to have children someday, but I’m not a mother yet. I work with kids so I know a few tricks.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m with a non-profit called Shelter the Children. Abrego Los Ninos in Spanish. We support an orphanage in a little village outside San Salvador. That’s where I’m headed.”
He smiled and held out a hand. “Derek Stiles. I know your name is Breanna.”
“Yes. Everyone just calls me Bree.”
They were an hour out of San Salvador International Airport when Derek noticed a commotion at the rear of the cabin.
Then the curtain behind the business class section jerked open and a lean, black-haired man stood in the aisle. Derek’s blood ran cold when he noticed the assault rifle strapped across the intruder’s chest.
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Spotlight On Terri Osburn
May 27, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Spotlight tagged as new release, Not You Again, romantic comedy, Terri Osburn, The Not Series
Terri Osburn writes contemporary romance with heart, hope, and lots of humor. After landing on the bestseller lists with her Anchor Island Series, she moved on to the Ardent Springs series, which earned her a Book Buyers Best award in 2016. Terri’s work has been translated into five languages, and has sold more than 1.5 million copies worldwide. She resides in middle Tennessee with four frisky felines, and two high-maintenance terrier mixes. Learn more about this international bestseller and her books at www.terriosburn.com. Or check out her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/TerriOsburnAuthor.
Terri’s Newest Release
Not You Again
Four blind dates in five days. I can’t believe I agreed to this.
Actually, I can. That’s what I do. I agree to things I don’t want to do to make other people happy. In this case, my four best friends. They’re worried about me and if going on a few dates will make them happy, then I’ll do it. How bad could they be?
I probably shouldn’t have asked that.
I’m starting to seriously wonder if my friends know me at all. Each pick is worse than the last, and none of them compare to my former fiancé. But then I guess maybe that’s the point. Someone new to help me forget the old.
To help me move on.
Except I don’t need a man to prove that I’ve moved on. Why can’t my friends understand that? And why does the same beautiful stranger keep saving me from these awful encounters? The universe seems to be throwing him into my path, and the more time I spend with him the more I wish that he was one of the dates.
There’s one more date left and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll pop up again. How many chance encounters can two people have? Pittsburgh is a big city so the chances are slim.
But what if…?
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Sing to Me of Rain Book Tour and Giveaway
May 25, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as E.B.Dawson, excerpt, fantasy, middle-grade fiction, new release
Date Published: 5/22/21
An innocent naiad. A wounded boy. An adventure that will change their lives forever.
Plip is a naiad of the Great Waterfall, destined to one day sing the songs that send rain out into the world.
Akino isn’t destined for anything but trouble. His father long gone, his mother working on a plantation far away, he doesn’t really belong in the village below the Waterfall. And the villagers don’t let him forget it.
When Akino convinces Plip to travel down the mountain with him, for his own selfish purposes, he launches them into a world more dangerous than either of them could imagine. A world where people are not always what they seem and the rain does not fall evenly across the land.
About the Author
E.B. Dawson was born out of time. Raised in the remote regions of a developing nation, traveling to America was as good as traveling thirty years into the future. Now she writes science fiction and fantasy to make sense of her unusual perspectives on life. Her stories acknowledge darkness, but empower and encourage people to keep on fighting, no matter how difficult their circumstances may be. She currently lives in Idaho with her family and her cat Maximus.
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Sing to Me of Rain
by E.B. Dawson
Captured
Plip shook herself and looked about tentatively. Out the opening of the globe, the caravan of kempelas strode on tirelessly over an endless sea of yellow sand. The bright blue sky hung low and thick all about them, almost tangible. Plip had the sensation for a moment that they were actually walking along the bottom of a great river, surrounded not by sky, but water.
Strange gray outcroppings began to emerge out of the blue. Porous rock which had been carved by the wind into sharp, jagged formations, like the teeth of some great monster.
But the illusion of water only reminded her how very far she was from the clear streams of the Mountain. She turned her attention to the orange sphere which housed her.
It seemed to be made of thick skin, stretched taut over a strong wooden frame. All about her were sacks of spices, piles of soft carpets, and various objects of fine metal, plus a plethora of items she could not identify. But just to her right was a cage with a very frightened looking bird inside. He was rather small and black, with a tuft of brilliant blue on his breast and matching blue rings around his eyes.
He kept tilting his head back and forth as he watched Plip and hopping left and right every few seconds.
“Poor thing. You’re as frightened as I am.”
The bird shrieked in alarm. His feathers puffed out all around his head and breast, forming a great black oval and revealing a larger stripe of bright blue. He shuffled back and forth in a funny little dance. His head seemed to have disappeared entirely.
Plip watched silently, thoroughly impressed but a bit confused, until the dance ended, and the little bird’s feathers settled back into place, revealing his head once more.
“Amazing!” Plip whispered.
The bird hopped backwards, lowered its head towards the floor and tilted its beak up suspiciously. “You did speak!” he cried, in a shrill voice. “Oh, this is terrible. What kind of a demon are you?”
“But you’re talking too,” Plip protested.
“I’m a shangrila bird, of course I can talk.”
“I never knew any birds that could talk,” Plip said.
The shangrila bird ruffled his feathers. “And how many birds have you known?”
“Well, none really.”
“Hmph. I thought as much. Birds are wildly misunderstood by bottom dwellers.”
“Bottom dwellers?”
“That’s what I said. Most of the world is made up of sky. Or do you never bother to look up?”
“I never thought of it that way,” Plip admitted, though she didn’t particularly like the bird’s tone.
“What am I thinking, trying to explain things to a sprite?” The bird straightened his neck.
“Who’s a sprite?”
“You are!” He flapped his wings impatiently.
“I’m not a sprite, I’m a naiad!”
“What’s the difference?”
Plip frowned. “As a matter of fact, I don’t know. What’s a sprite, exactly?”
“They live in the clouds,” the shangrila said. “They’re the ones who make it rain…or not rain, as the case may be.” He began pruning himself absentmindedly.
“They’re not the ones who make rain,” Plip protested. “The naiads and Weather Masters do that.”
“What nonsense are you babbling?”
Plip crossed her arms in irritation. “It isn’t nonsense, and I should think I know more about it than you, anyway.”
“Oh, really? You didn’t even know what a sprite was!” The shangrila crossed his wings comically.
Plip did a quick somersault inside her jar. “Well, I’ve never been inside a cloud.”
“My point exactly.” The shangrila would not look at her.
Curiosity softened Plip’s temper. “So, what is a sprite, exactly? Do they look like me?”
“A great deal…though now that I come to think of it, there are significant differences. You wouldn’t last long in the clouds; you are entirely too solid.”
Plip was beginning to suspect that there was no real ill will behind the shangrila’s insults. “And they don’t talk?”
“Certainly not. They haven’t the capacity for it. They aren’t really sentient, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” Plip said somberly.
“Well,” said the bird in a satisfied tone, “you are young.”
“I wonder if the Weather Masters know about the sprites,” Plip said softly to herself. “Please, Mr. Bird—”
“Mr. Burung, if you please.”
“Please, Mr. Burung, do you know how they make it rain?”
Burung stuck his chest out and cleared his throat. “Ah, well you see, it’s all rather involved and multifaceted and one might even say interdimensional.”
Plip’s eyes grew wide.
“It would take an expert to explain the process thoroughly, which I am not—though I understand why you may think I am. But I do think even the experts would agree that it could all be summed up by the word evaporation.”
Plip frowned.
“Yes, evaporation is that complicated process by which a cloud sheds its water and rain falls to the earth.”
“And the sprites help with this process?”
“Just so. And it must be quite a messy business, too. For they seem to always be squabbling among themselves.”
“This is all so much more complicated than I ever understood,” Plip sighed.
“As is life,” Burung said with a dramatic sigh, “as is life.”
“I wish Akino were here.”
“Who’s Akino?” Burung asked.
“He’s my friend. He’s clever and brave and used to being on his own.” She sighed again. “Do you know where they’re taking us?”
“Somewhere terrible, I expect.” Burung sunk his head into his shoulders. “The Sand Plains are not known for their spiritual enlightenment. They stopped visiting the White Temple decades ago.”
“What is the White Temple?” Plip asked.
“Bless me,” Burung cawed, “it’s sentient, but it’s a heathen. The White Temple is only the holiest place in all the lands. It is where the physical world and the spirit world connect. All those seeking enlightenment find their way there eventually.”
“Have you been there?”
Burung rocked back and forth in a self-satisfied manner. “Many times. The White Temple is located in the center of the forest which I call home. The White Monks are kind to my people and often choose us as companions for their lifelong journey toward enlightenment.”
“I had no idea!” Plip was duly impressed, even if she didn’t fully understand what it was she was impressed by. “What does enlightenment mean?”
Burung sighed. “Spiritual knowledge and understanding of Maha.”
“What is maha?”
“Maha is the ultimate being, the origin and sustainer of life. The sun rises by his decree.”
“Oh, you mean the Creator!” Plip gasped. “He taught the first naiads to sing and gave the Weather Masters their skill.”
“I suppose so,” Burung looked a little puzzled, “though I have never heard of you or your weather masters.”
Just then a man entered the globe, momentarily blocking out the dazzling sunlight and casting a shadow directly over Burung.
Good Lookin’ Book Tour and Giveaway
May 24, 2021 by marianne h donley in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Rabt Book Tours tagged as @RABTBookTours, Good Lookin' A Joe Turner Mystery, new release, T.L. Bequette
Good Lookin’
A Joe Turner Mystery
by
T.L. Bequette
Date Published: May 24, 2021
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
From the gang-ravaged streets of inner-city Oakland to the rolling hills of Berkeley, California, attorney Joe Turner defends the most hardened criminals. Confronted with an unlikely murderer in a modern-day whodunnit, Turner’s latest case seems impossible to unravel. At its heart is a decade-old murder and a tangled web of family, loyalty, and devotion that has the trial hanging in the balance. Viewed through the prism of the unique bond of twins, Good Lookin’ asks how far each of us will go to protect the ones we love.
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Good Lookin’
A Joe Turner Mystery
by
T.L. Bequette
Excerpt
For a split second I thought about running, but Dunigan filled the doorway as he picked up the deputy with his handcuffed meat hooks and effortlessly tossed him into the hallway. I’ll never forget the hollow clang of the metal door when he shut it, locking us inside the tiny room.
I smashed a red alarm button on the wall behind me just before Dunigan slid the heavy metal table across the room as if it were made of plastic, pinning me against the wall. The behemoth leaned on the table and stared at me, eyes wild and grinning maniacally. He took a couple deep breaths and forcefully blew the air and spittle out through his yellowed teeth.
He stood up straight, keeping me pinned to the wall, leaning his girth against the table. I tried to push it away with both hands, twisting frantically but it was useless against his weight and strength. His grin widened and his breathing intensified—as did the production of spit— as if aroused by my fear. Then he reached towards my head with his two hands the size of catcher’s mitts, holding them there a few inches from my head. I turned sideways and pressed my cheek against the wall, keeping sight of his hands with one eye that pulsed with panic. He kept his hands there, close to my face, reveling in the anticipation. I pictured his hands squeezing my head, his thumbs entering my brain through my eye-sockets.
What If You Planned a Party and Nobody Came?
May 13, 2021 by Bethlehem Writers Group in category From a Cabin in the Woods by Members of Bethlehem Writers Group tagged as A Sarah Blair Mystery, book launch, Debra H Goldstein, mystery, new release
What if you spent a year planning a party, sent out the invitations, and nobody came? For the past year, that has been the scenario for writers and readers. Each writer’s plan was simple: write the book and go on tour launching it. Readers looked forward to the party aspect of interacting with authors at bookstores, libraries, and conferences. Then, on March 14, 2020, the world shut down.
That weekend, I was in Washington, D.C. at a family function, not knowing it would be a year or more until I saw those loved ones again. Before arriving in Washington, I had been on a whirlwind tour for newly released Three Treats Too Many, the third book in Kensington’s Sarah Blair mystery series. The tour had taken me to Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Denver, Memphis, Fairhope, New York, and Atlanta in two months. More stops were planned for April through August, but they were canceled.
I, like many authors, had to pivot. We spoke to groups or participated in panels virtually. Authors learned to sit up straight, use microphones or earphones, adjust lighting and backgrounds, and provide bookplates instead of only bookmarks. Using Zoom, Crowdcast, or other platforms was a good substitute, but not the same as live interaction with readers and bookstore owners. Reaction times were different, especially for webinar platforms where readers could only communicate by leaving a chat message.
Although readers still establish links between themselves and the characters in books they choose to read, experimentation with new authors dropped. Why? Housebound, people found comfort spending time with familiar characters and scenes that brought back good memories.
Four Cuts Too Many, the fourth Sarah Blair book releases May 25. In it, Sarah, who finds being in the kitchen more frightening than murder, has no desire to learn knife skills from her friend, sous chef and adjunct college instructor, Grace Winston. But, when Grace’s department chair is found dead with one of Grace’s knives in his neck, Sarah is forced to sharpen her own skills to uncover the elusive killer. The premise and the book are fun, especially for a summer beach, airplane, or bath read, but how to launch it to the most people is a dilemma.
It is a problem that is not mine alone (although it sometimes feels like it). Most authors with release dates that would offer readers the perfect summer book are finding that stores are still not having large in person book parties nor are the usual conferences taking place. Consequently, we’re planning individual virtual store appearances or panels, we’re increasing our number of Facebook parties and group take-overs, more blogs are being written, and we’re hoping for word-of-mouth help.
Whether it is Four Cuts Too Many or any other book you read, review it, and tell your friends about it. Publishers look at sales and numbers, so it is important that readers and writers work together if favorite series and characters are to be survive the pandemic.
I know I can’t wait to see you in person again, but in the meantime, do you have any ideas how you’d like authors to connect with you? I’ve got my pen and paper ready to take notes.
Judge Debra H. Goldstein is the author of Kensington’s new Sarah Blair cozy mystery series, which debuted with One Taste Too Many on December 18, 2018. She also wrote Should Have Played Poker and 2012 IPPY Award winning Maze in Blue. Her short stories, including Anthony and Agatha nominated “The Night They Burned Ms. Dixie’s Place,” have appeared in numerous periodicals and anthologies including Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Black Cat Mystery Magazine, and Mystery Weekly. Debra is president of Sisters in Crime’s Guppy Chapter, serves on SinC’s national board, and is president of the Southeast Chapter of Mystery Writers of America.
Find out more about Debra at any of the following links:
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Debra’s Newest Sarah Blair Mystery
The Sarah Blair Mysteries
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