Guest Author, Christine Clemetson

Today's Guest Author is Christine Clemetson, fellow Wild Rose Press Author and part of the Goddess Fish book tour. Welcome, Christine!

Who are you?

Hi Liana! Thanks so much for having me! I’m a writer who loves writing romance as much as I love reading it! I write every chance I get. Recently, I even had to jot down ideas on a placemat at a local pizzeria. The server thought I was a little nuts, but you do what you have to do! My first book, A Daughter’s Promise, came out from the Wild Rose Press recently. And I yelled it from the rooftops. Besides my kids and hubby, that day was the proudest moment of my life. I literally felt my whole body beaming.

What type of stories do you like to write and why?

I love writing romance and creating relationships between people. Writing how the characters change as they grow with one another is like going on a journey and discovering new places.

What type of stories do you like to read and why?

My favorite stories are romances that grab the reader from the beginning of the story and don’t let go. There is nothing on earth quite like getting absorbed in a story that makes you forget about cooking dinner, or makes you forget where you are.

When do you write?

I write whenever I can. I fit it in between work and the kids, and everything in between. I’ve gotten chapters written during lunch hours as well as pieces of dialogue when I’m at the gas station. I’ve learned that whenever the time works, I’ll take it! I stopped being picky after my first son was born. LOL. But, I have to say that the time when I feel the most creative is in the morning.

When do you read? Where?

Usually at night before going to sleep, either in bed or downstairs on the couch. At night, the house is quiet, so it feels like “me” time when I can get absorbed in a good book.

Where did you get the inspiration for A Daughter's Promise?

I saw a newspaper article that talked about all the soldiers the US lost during a battle on Anzio beachhead during WWII. I wanted to give a voice to people that lived during this time period, and their stories of survival and hope to be heard by others. So I decided to place an American soldier right in the middle of Italy on Anzio beach head and the only chance of his survival would be through a local woman. When they find love, they ultimately look to each other for hope. I wanted to capture that inspiration on paper.

Where do you go to think?

That’s a wonderful question. I think everyone should have a spot to just think. For me, it’s usually in my living room or in my car. I have a funny story about that question too. When I was in 5th grade, moving up to the middle school, all of us had to decide nicknames for each other that were to show our most endearing qualities. My nickname? Thinker! LOL. Do you think that was a pre-cursor to how much I should think? My family still chuckles over that one.

How did you come up with your title and main characters’ names?

I tried to capture the core of the conflict in the title. The names came from a combination of the places..baby books, and searches on popular names in Italy during that time. I tried to fit the name to the personality of the character.

How long did you write seriously before your first book was published?

I started seriously submitted after college and then I had my family and kept writing, but not submitting. In the last few years I started submitting again.

Why do you write?

I write because I can’t imagine life without it. If I didn’t write, my head would be jam packed with all these characters, and they’d have no one to tell their stories. So I write for them. J

Thank you so much Liana! Your questions were so inspiring!

Growing up in a small beach town in New Jersey, Christine wouldn’t have been caught on her beach towel without a good book. Through all this, she caught the fire of creativity and discovered she had her own story to tell. Not just one, but many!

Blurb and Excerpt from A Daughter's Promise

A Daughter’s Promise, by debut novelist Christine Clemetson, is a sweeping love story of sacrifice and unexpected hope. In war torn Italy, 1944, Serene Moneto made a promise to her dying mother—a promise so haunting that it directs the course of her life. When she chooses to save an American soldier from death, she risks everything—her name, her life, and capture by the Germans. Finding forbidden love with this soldier tears her world apart. Against the backdrop of a war raging right outside her door, can she choose happiness? Despite the promise she made those years ago?
See the trailer at http://www.christineclemetson.com/trailers.html

Excerpt

They both knew Serene’s turn had come. She took in a deep breath and touched his arms in a stiff embrace. She hugged him the way she had rehearsed in her head over and over, the way a mother would hug her son going off to war.

“I don’t care who sees,” he said gruffly, pulling her closer. He pushed her chin up with his
fingertips, and bent his head to kiss her.

She took his lips, his body, all of him, into her heart for the last time. Feeling the rapid beating in his chest, she fought the urge to mold her most intimate part against his.

When their lips parted, his warm breath on her neck made her body shiver. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face into his jacket. “I’m not ashamed about
what I said to you last night or what happened between us.” Her voice cracked. “It’s a sin, I know, but it was the most beautiful—”

“Ashamed? I don’t think I’ll ever have that kind of love again.”

Trembling, she stood back a little, clinging to her emotions with the delicacy of a spider web. “But you were right. We made the most logical decision.”

“Jesus, Serry. I want to tell you so bad that I—”

“You’re all set, then?” Sam said, coming back into the house.

Serene let go of Miles, letting her one finger intertwine with one of his pinky fingers. She couldn’t let him go.

Slowly, he released her and went to the door, putting one foot on the outside pavement before hesitating and turning back. His eyes were red, and she clutched the stair banister to keep from running to him. How much she loved him would be a secret
she’d take to the grave.

Carrying a bottle of whiskey, Marcus passed him at the door and gave him a friendly slap on the back. “I came to give you a goodbye, Coulson.”

Serene stood up straight and froze.

Miles jerked himself away. “Change of heart about me?”

His answer was Marcus’ deep kiss on Serene’s cheek and an arm around her waist. “I realized, Coulson, that I’m proud of her for taking the responsibility for you. I thought it was about time that I offered my apologies for the undiplomatic way I acted. We’re all in this for a cause, no? Why don’t we share a bottle to celebrate?”

“No, your change of heart doesn’t rub me the right way.” Miles offered an apologetic glance to Serene and then shifted his gaze back to Marcus. “You hurt her, and I’ll hurt you. You understand me?”

“Have a safe trip,” Marcus drawled.

Serene watched the driver help him in and her knees weakened. As the truck’s engine started, she braced herself against the wall.

“Don’t worry. Serene. Just think of this as a wedding present from me. No more worries about your American. He is well now and gone for good. Your only thanks is to marry me.”

She couldn’t hear him. Her throat ached and she made no effort to wipe the tears spilling freely from her eyes. She started for the door, but he grabbed her by the shoulders.

On PMDD and Cravings -- and All Chocolate is Not Equal

I have no guest author scheduled for today, so you're stuck with me and what's on my mind :). So sit back, have some cyber chocolate and enjoy!

Having come freshly off a week of spending up close and personal time with The Alien, who kicked my butt so badly the last day she was here I had to take a three-hour nap in the middle of the day, on top of getting a full night’s sleep, today I feel uber-qualified to write about how it feels to experience PMDD. The thing is, now that the episode (aka her latest visit) is over, it’s the last thing I want to think about.

I look around and see all that didn’t get done over the last week, the laundry piling up, the floors that need to be cleaned, the clutter of all I didn’t feel up to coping with and simply set aside, and would much rather regain some semblance of control over my life--if only its external appearance--than write about the dark place I inhabited for eight full days and change this time around.

Why such a long visit this time? I think I know. I think it had something to do with the stress of travel, the staying up later than usual, sleeping in strange environments, the change in diet, the miniscule amount of alcohol consumed, although in comparison to my usual alcohol intake, it was a big jump. Let’s see…over the course of two weeks I had three beers, one glass of wine and a glass of Bailey’s Irish cream. More than I’ve had in the last 6 months, since the cruise, and more than I had in the year or so before that.

Still, it was a toxic substance my system isn’t used to. Add that to the copious amounts of caffeine I consumed during the conference and while on the road, the pasta-heavy fare at the conference, and I think I’m getting the picture. At home, I’m usually caffeine free—or close to it. No coffee, maybe a cup of caffeinated tea in the morning, if I feel the need, and chocolate only when “the cravings” come. And I hadn’t had pasta or bread in weeks before the conference.

Why? All of these are bad for women with PMDD, or anyone with a neurotransmitter imbalance. Caffiene, alcohol, sugar, flour, hence the bread and pasta. But why am I so sensitive to their effects? I know women who practically live on caffeine and sugar, others who drink freely, others who love their bread and pasta. Is it possible they feel as miserable as I do, or more so, but deny their misery and continue to self-medicate with food and drink?

Because attempts to self-medicate is what these addictions (for lack of a better word) are. My research is showing there are very few true physical addictions in life. Most compulsions are emotionally or psychologically based. Only in rare cases is an addiction physiological.

That’s not to say we can’t get cravings. But cravings are cravings, temporary urges for some kind of substance to relieve our mental, emotional, or physical discomfort. Cravings are not addictions, although when you are in the throes of one, it can feel like an addiction. But as someone writing a book on dealing with addiction recently pointed out to me, “You’re not going to stick a gun in someone’s face for a piece of cake.”

Cravings are the body’s signals that some physiological need is not being met. You’re low on some vital nutrient, to be exact. Your body is saying, for instance, “I’m low on magnesium,” and you feel a sudden urge to eat a banana, or some almonds, maybe some oatmeal, or, yes, some chocolate.

Chocolate is one of the best known substances we crave. What confuses the issue with chocolate is not only its physical healing properties (of which there are many), but its emotional associations. We associate chocolate with feeling good. But not all chocolate is equal. Some are better for us than others. Much better. Others are almost useless, physiologically speaking. In the example above, a banana would provide as much magnesium as a 1.5 ounce chocolate candy bar, but a handful of almonds or cashews would provide almost three times as much magnesium as either the banana or candy bar.

So why do we reach for the chocolate? It’s as much for the emotional fix as the nutrient needed. More confusion arises when we don’t know the difference between types of chocolate, due to the marketing and advertising claims of their manufacturers. Manufacturers is the key word here. Quality chocolates from true chocolatiers abound with the beneficial properties of chocolate. True dark chocolate is a rich source of flavanoids and antioxidants, with the cacao bean containing more than twice as many antioxidants the so-called superfoods like blueberries, kale, spinach or broccoli.

It’s the cheap, mass-marketed brands that--while they may contain miniscule amounts of chocolate’s beneficial properties—have processed most of the antioxidants and flavanoids right out of the chocolate. To derive any benefit from eating these lower quality chocolates, you need to eat way more than is healthy for you. When this happens, the negatives outweigh the positives—and you could end up outweighing all your friends.

If that’s not enough, did you know that adding milk to your chocolate, or even drinking milk with your chocolate totally nullifies its good effects?

Meanwhile you’re bewildered, thinking chocolate is supposed to be good for me, right? Milk is healthy for me. Isn’t that what the ads say? By eating chocolate and drinking milk, I’m doing something good for my body, right? So why do I feel so miserable?

Because all the chocolate in the world isn’t going to solve your problems, honey, and while I may crave it like mad at times, neither is it going to make my PMDD, or Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder, go away. For all its mood-enhancing abilities, even the finest Belgian chocolate won’t “cure” dysphoria.

Dysphoric is the opposite of euphoric. Euphoric means happy, dysphoric means depressed. As in depression. But only pre-menstrually, which I suppose can be considered a blessing.

In some atypical cases, however, the dsyphoria can come AFTER a woman begins her period. Lucky me, I’m atypical. Mine usually starts on Day 3, if it’s going to come. It doesn’t always come. Which is what drives me batty, trying to keep on top of what I need to do--or to avoid--to keep it from returning. I lead too full and rich a life to keep being knocked flat by this unwelcome change in my body. It makes me feel like I’m constantly behind—on everything.

As women, we all know “it will never all get done,” but to have something come along and steal a full week or more out of your month, something that no matter what you do or don’t do seems to be totally beyond your control…it’s more than frustrating. It’s crazymaking.

I’m here to tell you you’re not crazy. I’m here to tell you there are scientifically proven physiological reasons for why you crave the things you do—like carbs--and what happens to your body as a result of that. I’m here to tell you there’s help, and hope, but it’s far from easy, living in a body that seems to have a will of its own at times, and a manufacturing and marketing culture that promotes unhealthy foods as healthy because of their base ingredients, while completely ignoring the toxic effects of their processing processes.

That said, the first step is to forgive yourself for falling short of your own expectations, and to understand that what is happening to you is as involuntary a response as an allergic reaction. You can not control it. You can try to mitigate it, to be sure, by living a universally healthy lifestyle, once you understand what that truly is, but you can not control it.

Nor can you deny it and simply plow through it, as most women do. We have commitments, responsibilities, schedules and deadlines. We have people counting on us to be there for them.

But first, we have to learn how to be there for ourselves.

More on this, when I get a chance.

In Gratitude for Friendship

"The friendship that can cease has never been real." - Saint Jerome

Okay, as promised, part two of my eight day sojourn south. I left my friends and their new black lab puppy and headed around the beltway to Springfield, where I met up with more friends from childhood. Can you say Chicago/Beach Boys concert? We were there, whatever summer that was—1974, I think it was, maybe 1975. Anyway, the three of us went out to dinner at their favorite restaurant, a wonderfully trendy place where I had the tastiest filet mignon and real mashed potatoes made from red-skinned potatoes.

I’m the kind of girl who would rather have a second helping of mashed potatoes than dessert, so I was in hog heaven. Those potatoes were my dessert! Afterward, we went back to their house, where they invited me to try out their new wireless internet thingy---it wasn’t a computer, but you could check your email and surf the internet on it--so check my email I did, for the first time in four days.

Amazing how quickly it piles up—and how quickly you can forget all about it—which is what I did at the conference. Totally. Didn’t give the internet a second thought. I was on vacation. The lobby of my floor, however, was a mysterious pocket of free wireless in a hotel that charged $12.95 a day for internet use, and $3.95 for 15 minutes of use down in the lobby, ka-ching ka-ching, so every time I stepped off the elevator, there were people left and right hunched over as many laptops as in a computer showroom. Over the course of four days, I watched our floor’s secret grow and grow. Nearly 2000 writers and free internet?...you do the math.

My friend’s husband went to bed and she and I sat up late into the night, talking books and trips. She’s a librarian and had attended the RWA booksellers and librarians luncheon the day before the conference, so we’d missed each other at the hotel. The national conference is known for passing out free books—each publisher hosts an autographing of their authors and provides the books for it—but the booksellers luncheon is a true bonanza. My friend came home with four shopping bags full of books.

Fortunately, she can donate the booty where she works, so even more readers will be able to enjoy them. Me, I managed to keep my take down to only a dozen books I don’t have time to read, knowing I’d just have to carry them back on the subway. But if you plan to attend a RWA conference, I’d suggest bringing a second carry-on size suitcase (empty) just to take home the free books. Every time we sat down to a meal there were free books on our seats. We also got free books in our free extra-sturdy tote bags provided by Harlequin, celebrating its 60th year in business.

Anyway, my friend and I talked about going to the RWA conference in Nashville together next year (still up in the air), and made tentative plans to take a trip to Ireland together in about eighteen months or so. Just enough time to save up for it and go. She’s on her way to London in the fall, but I’ve already been to Florida and DC this year, so it’s time to step back and save my pennies for a while.

The next morning we had breakfast, I checked my email again, and headed off toward the Chesapeake Bay for my next stop, the home of another childhood friend, the sister of my friend in Rockville (their brother was my 6th grade boyfriend.). She lives in a delightful beach community. Before I was even out of the car, the neighbor across the street was over offering to help if I needed anything. I just handed the phone out to him so he could talk to my friend directly, whom I had called to let her know I’d arrived.

My friend recently lost her husband, so I’m glad she lives in a community where they look out for each other. I spent the afternoon reading and resting and catching up on my laundry, an unexpected bonus, since I was now out of my conference clothes and into my casual wear. That night we went out to dinner at a steak and seafood restaurant on a pier at a marina. We sat on a picnic bench outside, ate our broiled scallops and fried oysters in the balmy breeze, and watched the lights come on in the boats on the water and the array of stately homes that lined the waterfront.

We also had a beer, my second of the year. For that story, read my blog post from the Florida cruise. After I ordered mine she looked at me knowingly and asked, “When’s the last time you had a beer?” I smiled proudly… “January.”

I’m such a wild woman, I know. We sat there, two friends of 40 years, sipped our beers, and talked about life and love and loss, until it was time to go. Then we went home and made peach tea with fresh mint and stayed up late talking some more, while she showed me the bead jewelry she makes and sells at craft fairs. She asked me to pick something out and I went to bed with six bracelets and a necklace, undecided. The next day I chose one bracelet and bought two more.

The following day, another friend from our childhood arrived. (I told you there were three of them, remember?) I’d called her the day before and asked if we could get together for lunch. Said I’d be happy to meet her half way or even drive all the way down to the county where we grew up and she still lives. But no, she wanted to come up and see everybody, so she all but dropped everything and came right up—on crutches, no less. She fell off a ladder cleaning windows and has been on crutches for two months.

We spent the afternoon catching up—I hadn’t seen her in three years, since my high school reunion—until my hostess got home from work. Then the Rockville contingent arrived (including the new puppy and its sleep-deprived family) and we all went back to the same steak and seafood restaurant on the water for dinner. Theirs was not the only dog present on the pier as we ate and took pictures and teased and reminisced. The Rockville group left right after dinner, no doubt to go home and catch some Zzzz’s. A sound plan, as long as the puppy didn’t sleep all the way home :).

Back to my friend’s house, where the three remaining women stayed up too late again, once again drinking tea and talking about love and loss—and faith. How faith gets you through. Both of my friends are overnight widows. One minute they had husbands and the next---they did not. One killed by a drunk driver, another lost to a heart attack. Then there’s me, divorced after 16 years of marriage. As one of them asked, “Who would have thought that three out of four of us would end up single in our fifties?”

You never know. And that is why friendships like ours are so important. So that you have someone in your life who will tack a couple of days onto a trip and come and have a beer with you at a picnic table on a pier. Or one who will drop everything and borrow a car (hers was in the shop) and drive a couple of hours (while on crutches!) to see you.

Here’s to 40 years of friendship, ladies, through good times and bad. I love you.

Guest Author, Donna Marie Rogers

Today's guest author is Donna Marie Rogers, fellow Rose and part of the Goddess Fish Blog Tour. If you like stories about big, moody cops, then this is the book for you! Welcome, Donna!

Who are you?

Hi! Romance author Donna Marie Rogers (my maiden name) here! Meant To Be is the sequel to There’s Only Been You and my third book in print. I also write erotic romance as Liza James, and sold my first story to the Wild Rose Press in early 2007. Since then, I’ve published seven stories under Liza James, and the three novels and one novella as Donna Marie Rogers.

What type of stories do you like to write and why?

I like to write small town contemporaries mostly, because they’re my favorite types of stories. And ‘they’ say, write what you know :) I did write one historical short story as Liza James, but there wasn’t a lot of research needed for that one...LOL

What type of stories do you like to read and why?

The first romance novel I ever read was The Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss. And while I barely understood what I was reading (LOL), I loved it! I read strictly historicals for the first several years, but when I finally tried a contemporary romance, I became instantly hooked. Nowadays, I read mostly contemporary, but I still love historical. In fact, I just finished reading The Conqueror by Kris Kennedy, and I absolutely loved it!

When do you write?

Well, I haven’t had much time for writing the past few months, but normally I get my best writing done late at night when the kidlets are asleep. Starting this fall, however, both my kids will be in school, so I’ll be spending my mornings and afternoons writing...and trying to figure out how to use the Wii Fit...LOL

When do you read? Where?

I mostly read in bed at night, but I keep my book in the bathroom all day so as not to waste an opportunity...LOL And at least once a week I submerge myself in a steaming hot bubble bath and soak and read until the kids or husband guilt me out of there. *grin*

Where did you get the inspiration for Meant To Be?

I knew before I'd even finished my first draft of There's Only Been You that I'd be writing Garrett's story. I fell hard and fast for the big moody cop. The special relationship he has with his nephew is what melted my heart and locked it for me. I couldn't imagine Garrett not having his own happily-ever-after. He definitely deserved one.

Where do you go to think?

The bathroom. *grin* Till the banging gets too loud, anyway. ;-)

How long did you write seriously before your first book was published?

I started writing There’s Only Been You in early 2004 and finished the first draft about eight months later. I entered contests, queried agents and editors, had tons of great feedback, etc. But I kept hearing the same thing, “I love it, but I don’t know if I can sell it.” So frustrating! I even had two different Harlequin editors tell me how much they loved my characters and the world I’d set up, then ask me for revisions that would basically require me to rewrite the second half of the book. So I submitted it (and the sequel, Meant To Be) to the Wild Rose Press in 2007 and was offered contracts on both :)

Why do you write?

I wish I had a deep answer for this question, but the truth is I simply love to write. I love creating new characters and fleshing them out. I love creating new worlds, new journeys. I can’t imagine not being a writer.

Donna Marie Rogers lives in a renovated old schoolhouse in beautiful Northeast Wisconsin with her husband and children. She's an avid gardener and home-canner, as well as an admitted reality TV junkie. Her passion to read is only exceeded by her passion to write, so when she's not doing the wife and mother thing, you can usually find her sitting at her computer creating exciting new characters, fresh new worlds, and always happily-ever-afters.

Excerpt:

Standing there in nothing but a pair of black gym shorts, he was too hot for words. Damn him.

"So what can I do for you?" He leaned negligently against the doorframe, an almost pleasant smile curving his lips.

"I'm here to see Nick. Is he home?"

The smile disappeared. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, which made those huge biceps bulge even more. Jessica realized for the first time he had a tattoo. Huh. She wouldn't have thought him the type. Frankly, she thought tattoos were sexy, if they weren't garish, which his wasn't. It looked to be some sort of Chinese symbols.

Probably means `He-with-head-too-big-for-hat.'

"You're barking up the wrong tree there, honey. Nicky's married to his computer."

"Not that it's any of your business, but that's exactly why I'm here. I'm having trouble with my online service and was hoping he could help." Now why did she feel the urge to explain herself? Double damn him.

He looked her up and down in an insultingly blatant manner. "I know a thing or two about computers."

"No kidding? Great, next time I need help surfing the porno sites, you'll be the first one I call."

His eyes went cold. "You think I'm just some big, dumb Neanderthal, don't you?"

Jessica gave him the same insulting once over he'd given her. "If the leopard toga fits..."

"I happen to have a BS in Computer Science."

Hands on hips, jaw working furiously, he looked so offended Jessica was hard-pressed not to laugh. "I don't understand. You could be making a lot more money in computers than you are as a cop. And you wouldn't be putting your life in danger on a daily basis." She glanced meaningfully at the scarred flesh visible just above the waistband of his shorts.

"This didn't happen in the line of duty. Besides, I love being a cop."

He said it as if she should've instinctually known it. Jessica sighed. Garrett Jamison was turning out to be much deeper than she'd imagined. "It's a noble profession. It's also a very dangerous one."

"True enough. But it's not as if I have a family who's dependent on me."

She reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "What about your uncle, or your sister and brothers? Or your nephew? I'm sure they'd all be devastated if something happened to you."

"What about you?"

His voice had taken on a deep, sexy timbre that turned Jessica's knees to mush. Garrett Jamison was entirely too gorgeous for his own good--or for hers. "What about me?"

Before she knew what he was about, he reached out and cupped the side of her face, tracing his thumb over her cheekbone. "Would you miss me if something happened?"

"What a thing to ask," she breathed, her gaze centered on his full lips. "I barely know you." Was he going to kiss her? Right there where any of the neighbors could see? Not that she'd mind...

"Uncle Garrett, the game's set up. Can we order pizza now?"

Garrett snatched back his hand, and Jessica's gaze dropped to the little boy leaning possessively against his leg.

Was it her imagination, or was the little stinker glaring daggers at her?

"Hi, Ethan, my name is Jessica."

"I know."

Nope, not her imagination. In fact, the scowl on his face was downright hostile. Now what in the world had she done to warrant such disfavor?

"Ethan, you watch your manners," Garrett growled.

"Yes, sir."

He cast her one last mutinous scowl, then turned and ran back into the house. Jessica had to resist the urge to laugh. She wouldn't take his behavior personally. The boy obviously adored his uncle and didn't care to share him. Another fascinating layer of Garrett Jamison--loving uncle.

"Sorry about that. Ethan's a good kid. I'm not sure what got into him."

"My guess would be old-fashioned jealousy. You two apparently have plans for the evening, and when he saw us...talking, his young mind assumed I was trying to lure you away."

A frown creased his forehead. "I don't know. Ethan knows I'd never abandon him. For anyone."

Ouch, point taken. She shrugged. "You know him better than I do. I'm just telling you what I saw. Well, this has been fun, but I need to get back. Mr. Louie doesn't like to watch TV alone."

Garrett chuckled. "Give His Highness a scratch behind the ears for me."

"What? Just this afternoon you suggested I have him euthanized."

"Good Lord, woman, can't you take a joke?" Garrett winked at her, then stepped back and closed the door.

Jessica shook her head. The man was crazy, no doubt about it. He was also so handsome it should be a crime. With a sigh of frustration, she headed back home to watch Wheel of Fortune.

Guest Author, Stephanie Reed

Today's Guest Author is Stephanie Reed. Slowly I've been changing my Wednesday format from all guest author interviews, to articles by editors, agents, and writers on writing. In my travels through the blogosphere, I came upon this article, and thought it would be perfect, so I emailed Stephanie and asked if I could post it. She graciously agreed, and here we are. Please welcome Stephanie, and learn about the challenges of writing historically accurate novels for children.

Hello, I'm Stephanie Reed, and I have the honor of writing historical novels for children, the most exacting readers. Children have a deep desire to know everything, but most loathe boring lists of facts. So how does a Christian novelist walk that fine line of providing an exciting, historically accurate story?

My second novel, The Light Across the River, is based on the true story of Johnny Rankin, middle of fourteen children of pastor and abolitionist John Rankin, and Eliza, the slave woman who escaped on the ice to save her baby in Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Readerviews.com says of Light, “I loved the rich use of detail and was fully drawn in by the vivid descriptions of the safe houses and the methods that the families used to help the escaping slaves to safety in other locations. The real joy, however, comes from the rich characterizations of the Rankin family and the inhabitants of the town, getting to experience the different personalities and eccentricities and also seeing the way the community comes together to help the Rankin family.”

My main characters are based on people who really lived. Classics like Little House on the Prairie and Tom Sawyer spoke to me as a child because I knew they were based on the stories of real people—the stories ring true. Visiting the actual place where a story happened is exciting, too. The setting reveals the characters, details I need to make them live again. It’s easy to write that a character raced barefoot through cornfield stubble in the dark, but if you look at a real cornfield, you will better describe how painful it was. Even a simple walk through wet grass after a fall evening football game can add depth to a slave escape scene—notice how the stars glitter, how the cool breeze flows across a cheek, how the icy dew seeps through shoes. When I realized that my characters had most of the same feelings I have every day, no matter how long ago they lived, I made giant strides in humanizing them.

There is so much more to a character than his appearance or his clothing. As an old man, Johnny Rankin wrote several versions of Eliza’s escape, adding little details here and there. It seemed to me that he had an intense need to share the story, so I put that in his book. Why? Because the Rankin family had to keep their work on the Underground Railroad a secret. That complicated Johnny’s problem—he wanted to tell about their good work, but he’s forbidden. When I have to keep a secret, it makes me nervous. I twist my hair, but I gave Johnny a bit of hair ribbon that he kept in his pocket, one he wound so tightly at one point that his finger turned purple. Where did he get such a girly thing? A pretty classmate dropped it one day.

It’s useless to make your main character live among lifeless paper dolls. But it’s also exhausting to flesh out a whole town, and that gives me a new appreciation for our Creator.

For some characters, I was fortunate to sniff out online sources published by descendants, most notably crotchety Old Archie Hopkins. I delighted to find actual quotes, like “I was a-settin’”, and to know that he’d suffered a broken hip and so rode a horse everywhere, even across the yard.

For other characters, like Underground Railroad conductor Dr. Greenleaf Norton, I had only a name and a place. When I saw the photo of a beautiful morning suit in the newspaper in connection with an exhibit of historical clothes, I knew it would fit Greenleaf to a ‘T.’ Moreover, it established his character as fastidious and fussy, yet with a heart.

Of course, I asked my husband to take me to the exhibit, where I found a beautiful dress for another character to wear. I also found ‘pattens,’ clumsy metal stilts that clipped to boots to keep wearers a couple of inches above the muddy streets of the time period. Golden! The pattens exactly fit Aunt Kitty McCague, the Kentucky-born matriarch who called everyone by his first and middle names—just like my dear Aunt Margie.

Most important is how your characters live their lives. Everything they do should be an extension of their Christian faith. That’s how we live, right? Well, I try to, but I don’t always succeed, and neither should your characters.

The reviewer quoted above goes on to say, “The religious aspect of the story came across in the faith of the Rankin family (the father was a preacher), and I enjoyed the way the family was consistent in applying their religious faith to their life, and it is non-intrusive to those who don’t usually read this type of fiction.”

The faith is evident in the way the family lives, offering aid to all who come to their house for help. It’s also there in a fiery sermon that Pastor Rankin delivers near the end, when he lashes out at slave-hunters who hunt down escaping women and children for a swig of whiskey and a reward. He even says that he would rather be caught robbing a hen roost than tracking down helpless fugitives. The pastor’s wife Jean later calls this part of the sermon ‘uncouth’, and don’t we all go home and second-guess the minister from time to time? He allows that perhaps she is right, but he smiles as he says it. He isn’t perfect, either.

Children still love to read about real boys and real girls just like themselves. They love to read about kids who don’t automatically do the right thing, who make mistakes, who are laughed at, who are comforted, who are loved. One special element came through all those long-ago-based-on-true-stories I read as a girl. Laura Ingalls Wilder and Tom Sawyer knew about God, just like me. They wondered about Him and what He had to say in the Bible as they struggled to sit still in church.

It’s easy to see that Laura honored the Lord, but Tom Sawyer? Well, he did sacrifice to take a whipping in Becky Thatcher’s place. Some of what he learned in church must have stayed with him, and that’s what I hope happens for children who read my books about real children—just like them.

During her childhood, Stephanie Reed's family would often pass through Ripley on their way to her grandparents' home. The signs she read there about the Rankin house were what prompted her to write Across the Wide River and The Light Across the River. Stephanie is a Latchkey teacher and a volunteer spotter for the National Weather Service. She lives with her husband and two children in Dublin, Ohio.

FOR MORE INFORMATION:

Visit Stephanie Reed’s Blog

Book Bait Blog

View a video trailer of The Light Across the River

Purchase Across the Wide River

Purchase The Light Across the River

This article was originally published as part of National Children's Book Week at the Christian Writing Examiner.

It's All About Gratitude

I got this from an email someone sent me this week, but unfortunately all the pretty pictures didn't copy over here to the blogger.

No matter, the message is still as true. Happy Sunday!

Attitude
There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'

So she did and she had a wonderful day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.

'H-M-M,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'

So she did and she had a grand day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed she had only one hair on her head.

'Well,' she said, 'Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail. '

So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.

'YAY!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly,
and pray continually.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...

It's about learning to dance in the rain.

Guest Author, Mona Risk

Today's special guest is Cerridwen and Wild Rose Press author Mona Risk, who has a new release coming out in two days! I met Mona at the Florida Romance Writers Cruise with Your Muse Conference in January. I am a big fan of sunsets (can you tell from my website?), and Mona has generously invited me to come back to Florida and watch a sunset over the water with her any time. I know from experience they are some of the most beautiful sunsets in the world. Mona is also a regular over at The Bookspa during my Tuesday Balance With Liana chats, where we learn ways to maintain our health and sanity in this busy busy world from each other. That said, please take a few moments out of your day to relax with a cup of tea and get to know Mona.

Who are you?

From as far as I can remember, I have been a dreamer and a writer, staring at the blackboard during a math class while re-plotting Cinderella and Aladdin tales, or hiding from the coach during gym to pursue my latest self-told story. At night, I was the one telling Mom the bedtime story while she tucked me. By the time I was a teenager, I wanted to be a doctor and messed it up because of the damn rabbit I had to dissect in premed biology lab. Even anesthetized, he was so cute I couldn’t stab him with a scalpel and cried during the whole lab session. It was easier to shift to Pharmacy and Chemistry than hurt the poor thing. But I never forgot my medical dream and indulged in creating gorgeous doctors and handsome specialists for my medical romances.

What type of stories do you like to read and why?

I love contemporary romances, romantic suspense (Roxanne St. Claire, Gemma Halliday, Christie Craig), sweet romances (Karen Kendal, Beth Andrews, Cynthia Thomason) and medical romances (Dianne Drake, Janice Lynn, Sarah Morgan). Since I write in those genres, I usually read with a pencil in hand and critique as I read.

If I read to relax, I favor historical, mostly Regency, but also any historical by Stephanie Laurens, Tracy Grant, or the oldies by Kathleen Woodiwiss, Johanna Lindsey, Heather Graham…

When do you read? Where?

Before I had children I used to read two books a day or night. My uncle timed me once. Apparently, I was an amazingly fast reader. It helped me a lot with my studies. Now I mostly read when traveling on vacation. I usually drag a carry-on full of books and make sure I save my ebooks on my laptop.

What type of stories do you like to write and why?

I traveled to fifty countries on business trips or vacation and have been exposed to many different cultures. As a result my contemporary novels and romantic suspense are set in foreign countries. TO LOVE A HERO takes place in Belarus and FRENCH PERIL is set in a chateau in the historical Loire Valley. In my next story, my heroine is going to Greece. By the way, all my heroines are American but all my heroes are gallant, hot and sexy foreigners.

My medical romances follow the genre of ER and Grey’s Anatomy. With nine doctors of various specialties in my family all you hear at holiday gathering is medical jargon. I have also shared the struggles and problems that medical residents face when my sister and then my daughter did their respective training in psychiatry and neonatology. My daughter inspired BABIES IN THE BARGAIN, the story of a resident in neonatology torn between her career and her love, and my sister led me to write, Rx FOR TRUST, a romance between two psychiatrists who excel at hiding their own issues..

When do you write?

Seven years ago I quit my fulltime job as a chemist and director of a chemistry lab to indulge my long time dream of writing romances. Gluing myself to my chair, I typed day and night. As a result, the stories flowed out without interruption. Five books came alive during three years of serious writing. Cerridwen Press contracted TO LOVE A HERO and six months later FRENCH PERIL. The Wild Rose Press will release BABIES IN THE BARGAIN on July 3, 2009 and Rx FOR TRUST on December 04, 2009. Rx FOR TRUST is the first book of a medical romance series called DOCTOR’S ORDERS.

Unfortunately, heavy responsibilities slammed me. Caring for my sick mother or babysitting my adorable grandchildren became top priorities. So now I write whenever I can, stealing an hour here or there, or staying awake till dawn when the muse kicks me out of bed.

Why do you write?

I write when I’m happy because I want to share my stories. I write when I’m depressed because my stories make me forget reality and soothe me. I write when I’m lonely because my hero and heroine keep me company and fill my life. I write when I’m excited because my muse flies and won’t be denied.

I write all the time. And when I don’t write I read what other authors write. Writing is good, uplifting but sometimes depressing. Rewarding and yet frustrating. But a writer can’t stop writing no matter what.

Where did you get the inspiration for BABIES IN THE BARGAIN?

The story is based on my daughter’s professional experience. Needless to say, the book is dedicated to her as she read and corrected the medical cases.

My heroine is a pediatrician and a neonatologist finishing her residency and training in a children’s hospital in Washington. Same as my daughter did. And my heroine Holly “coincidentally” shares some of the medical cases and emotional career turmoil that my daughter faced during her tough training. But the coincidental similarities stop here.
The story behind Babies in the Bargain started on a Christmas Day, a few years ago, when my daughter was still a first year neonatology fellow. She was on-call on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—as she’d been for the previous three years.

To celebrate the holiday season as a family, my husband and son helped me carry an elaborate home-cooked meal and the wrapped presents to the hospital cafeteria. We shared a happy lunch with the guest of honor wearing green scrubs.

Later, she invited us to visit the NICU. We slipped yellow gowns over our clothes and scrubbed before entering the room where five preemies fought for their lives. I approached one of the isolettes and noticed that the preemie wore a dress with Christmas prints. My daughter explained that a nurse sewed the tiny outfits for the babies in residence over the holiday. I realized that the dedication of the NICU personnel, including my daughter, went beyond the performance of a well-done job. They gave a hundred and one percent to the babies they helped save and did it happily. On that Christmas Day, I decided to write a story featuring the wonderful doctors and nurses who treated our loved ones.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN is a sweet and spicy medical romance that garnered several wins in contests: Launching A Star, The Beacon, Great Expectations; Golden Gateway; Gotcha; Enchanted Words; The Suzannah; Winter Rose; Linda Howard Award of Excellence. The story is based on my daughter’s professional experience. Needless to say, the book is dedicated to her as she read and corrected the medical cases.

Short Synopsis:
With only one year left to complete her medical training in Neonatology, Dr. Holly Collier vows not to let anyone mess up her sacrosanct schedule. Especially not the drop-dead gorgeous Dr. Marc Suarez who broke her heart seven years ago.

When a tragic accident transforms the carefree playboy into a dedicated but novice father to his nephew, Holly gives in to her maternal instincts and turns her structured life upside down for the orphaned preemie. But can she learn to trust Marc again and believe in true love?

Here is a trailer about BABIES IN THE BARGAIN.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQaxyIdXuAc

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN will be available in ebook and paperback at The Wild Rose Press, and Amazon.com, and can be ordered from your favorite bookstore…
You can learn more about my books at: http://www.monarisk.com/
http://www.monarisk.blogspot.com/
www.myspace.com/monarisk

Thank you Liana for hosting me today. I love your blog and your fascinating articles on Balance in Your Life.

Thanks, Mona. Here's wishing you many happy sales!