Why a note from a fan is so important

I've been in a writing slump for a while. Mainly because I've assumed more duties with my day job, but I received a note from a fan a few days ago and her words have encouraged me to try harder. I write each day even if it's only one sentence but one sentence a day won't get the book finished in a timely manner so I'm going to work harder at drafting much more a day.

 

She also asked some questions and I thought I'd share my answers here. First, she was interested in The Keeper of Moon Haven and if I had plans for a sequel. The Keeper is one of my all time favorites and when I drafted the story, I had plans for a whole series. A blue moon is a second full moon in one month. I wanted my story to coincide with Samhain so I chose October for the month with my blue moon. I then researched dates for occurrences of two full moons in October. For the most part, this happened every nineteen years but not always. My next plan was to have a book set in each year the blue moon happened in October. That said, I do indeed have plans for more in this series. In fact, I'm about 5000 words away from finishing the second book - Lucien's story, but I had trouble deciding how to end it so I put it aside to work on other projects.

 

I currently have five books in various stages of completion but I'm concentrating my efforts on two this summer.

 

So fans of fiction, if you really like a book, let the author know. Your kind words of encouragement might be all that's needed to help the author finish that next book.

A weekend with the Kingston Trio

Last weekend, my husband and I went to see the Kingston Trio in concert at the Dosey Doe in The Woodlands. It was a fabulous concert. The owners had torn down a barn in Kentucky and reassembled it in Texas and then had the architects create a building with nigh perfect acoustics. They have the tables in front of the stage set up "German" style. We had a seat right next to the stage. The food was outstanding as well.

We arrived early as we'd never been before which gave us time to enjoy the meal and visit before the group performed. They sang for about an hour and a half. Afterwards, they stayed and talked with everyone in a most relaxed and friendly manner.

When I was growing up, neither parent was much into music. We had a turn table in the living room and I think they owned all of 10 albums, but my father's favorite group at the time was the Kingston Trio. My girl friends and I would play dress up and dance to those tunes. Sometimes we'd switch and play Herb Albert's Tijuana Brass but mostly we played Kingston Trio songs. At the time, the rest of my friends were all talking about the Monkees and the Beatles. I had no idea who these groups were. I did buy a Cowsills' album with some allowance money and even talked my mom into taking my best girl friend and myself to a concert. Too funny.

Most of the songs were ones we sang at Girl Scout camp so hearing the Kingston Trio in concert brought a lot of good memories. Thanks guys for still performing.

Strange happenings in my author world

Yeah, so I've been buried in school stuff and should be working on it as we speak but I'm taking a break. My publisher sent out a query or survey regarding social media so I think - I've got a little time and I won't remember later, so I'll take the survey now. Hmm, enlightening.

First, when I do a search for my name, facebook doesn't even show. No surprise there, as I've had no time whatsoever to indulge in chatting on that site.

Amazon was a bit more puzzling. When I did a search for my name, my author page did not show. What? So - I log in and find my author page that way. It asked for any updates. I made a few changes and did a search again. My author page is not linked any more to any of my books and it doesn't show when you do a search however, it shows fine when you type in the direct link: amazon.com/author/ciaragold

Not only that, but several of my books that were in print are no longer showing as available. Have I been away too long? Probably. Can't do anything about it until March, though so ...

In the meantime, I will be writing again as soon as contest season is over.

What I learned from watching Johnny Football

Tonight I watched the Ags rally together to win a football game in which they were trailing 21 points at half time. Indeed, the Duke team was very impressive the first half, but Manziel never lost faith in himself or his team mates.

No matter what you want in life, attitude is half the battle. I've had writer's block for about 8 months now. I've never suffered like this before and while I open up my current WIP each night and manage a sentence or two, I'm not really writing. I need to adopt Manziel's attitude and his spirit for winning. I need to focus more. So - maybe this is sort of my new year's resolution but I think it's more. What Johnny taught me isn't anything new but an affirmation of what I already knew and just shelved for the time being. Time to unshelve the go-get-em attitude and make some serious waves on this story.

That said, maybe I can give Manziel something in return, a reminder that education is more important than glory because glory can be short lived when you least expect it. Yes, I'm a huge Aggie fan and have been since I was a student there from 76 - 78 and perhaps part of me is selfish in wanting to see him stay and play two more years. But I'm old enough that it won't end my world if he does choose to go to the NFL. I will still cheer for the Ags no matter who plays. But as a teacher, I hope he chooses to stay for the education, for that degree, for the Aggie ring, for the diploma his mother will proudly frame one day.

Yeah, now you all know a little more about me. I regret that my degree isn't from TAMU but at the time they didn't offer art and it was the only thing that seemed to catch my interest. If I'd known I would one day become a writer also, I would have stayed for a degree in English or History but I don't regret being an artist and a teacher. Going to TAMU for the first two years gave me so many wonderful memories.

I was really proud of all the players tonight (including the Duke players). They showed the real spirit of what it means to be a team. Whoop!!!!

Spent the night in a Haunted Hotel for Christmas

We spent four nights and four days at the lovely Hotel St. Nicholas in Cripple Creek, Colorado. We had a second floor room but my son spent the night on the third floor. He was the only one of our extended family who had an encounter and though both can probably be argued, I'll opt for the fact that he did indeed get visited.

On the first night there, he woke around 4:30 AM to the most horrid sulfur smell. (We joked that he was just smelling himself but he assured us the odor was outside the sheets.)  My daughter looked it up online and indeed one of the signs you've had an encounter is a horrid odor.

The next day, he went into his room, shut the door and went into the bathroom. When he came out, his door was wide open. The rest of our family swears they did not try to play a trick on him.

St. Nicholas was originally a hospital built by the Catholic Sisters of Mercy in 1898. There used to be an underground tunnel connecting the hospital to the nearby church so the nuns could travel to and from during bad weather. (Indeed, it was cold and snowy when we arrived.) The building served as a hospital until 1972. In 1995, the structure underwent major renovations and decoration to become the historic Hotel St. Nicholas.

The Hotel is said to be inhabited by two friendly but mischievous spirits and one unidentifiable anomaly. One is said to be that of a young boy, Petey, who is thought to have been an orphan who was cared for by the nuns. The other is a miner, known as "Stinky" who frequents the office area or back stairway. You're supposed to know you've been visited by him by his awful, sewer-like odor. I do believe he paid a visit to my son.

A new look for some older titles

It took a comment on one of my Amazon reviews to spur me to action but I'd always intended to create new covers for self published books. It's just at the time of publication, I could find nothing that suited me, so I painted my own. I'm going to keep the cover of Sarah's Brass Token as is as that one holds special meaning. However, the rest all have new looks.

I kinda wanted to keep the old cover of Texas Forged but I recognized I had problems with some of the perspective so I went in search of a stock photo I thought might work. I found several I really wanted from Inmagine so I sent them a simple query. I wanted to know licensing information in terms of e-book covers. All they had listed were terms for print covers. Everything else was in legalize I didn't fully understand. Their answer was to ask me which photos interested me? Okay, I'll bite so I sent them a list. Their new response was to set me up with an account manager. Hmmm, I just wanted a simple question answered. Needless to say, I did not register with them and their handling of my question spurred me into looking at a different avenue. At this point I could go with www.romancenovelcovers.com/ or www.hotdamndesigns.com

I admire Jimmy Thomas and the work he does, but I felt like I had more variety with Hot Damn Designs. The hardest part for a historical western romance writer is finding images where the cowboy is dressed in period clothing. I think I may shoot them both a note with regards to this. I also had a difficult time finding a male cowboy model with red hair for Eliza's Copper Penny. I figure for this cover, there's enough shadow that hides the model's true hair color.

One would think the stock photo sites would offer writers more choices when it comes to models for our covers. On the other hand, I'm so very glad they do have sites and images for our use.

Meet Lyn Horner, "western meets paranormal" author

Lyn, I had the pleasure of reading the first in your Texas Devlins trilogy and thoroughly enjoyed it. That said where did you come up with the idea?

First of all, thank you so much for having me here today, Ciara. I’m glad you enjoyed Darlin’ Irish, book one in the trilogy. The idea for the heroine, Jessie’s clairvoyant ability grew out of my own prophetic dreams years ago. As you might guess, that experience stuck with me, so when I chose to include a paranormal element in Jessie’s story, it was a no-brainer to give her dreams and visions of future events. From there, I decided she and her two siblings would be descendants of a secret line of Irish Celtic Druids, from whom they each inherited a unique psychic gift.

How did you get your start as a romance writer?

Well, I have always loved reading historical romances, and years ago I decided to try writing one. After many false starts, I finished the first version of Darlin’ Irish, joined Romance Writers of America and a local chapter in North Texas. Urged on by other authors, I submitted my manuscript to a New York publisher. It was rejected. I re-wrote it, did a lot of cutting, and signed on with an agent. He sent my baby off to several publishers. One kind of liked it but none bought it. I wrote a sequel, Dashing Irish, under a different title (I hadn’t yet added the paranormal elements) and went through the whole process again. This took place over a period of years, since I’m a slow writer and publishers are also notoriously slow to reply. Growing discouraged, I pretty much gave up writing for a while. Then Amazon started their Kindle Direct Publishing program. My friend and critique partner, Sharla Rae, nudged me in that direction and in November 2010, I self-published my first book. I’m happy to say it received some great reviews, and I’ve now published a total of six books.

Can you describe your “writing cave”?

LOL! My cave is mobile since I work on a laptop. Often, I park in my recliner in the living room; other times, when I want peace and quiet (my husband loves to watch TV) I move into our bedroom and set up camp on the bed with papers and research books spread out around me. Mind you, I do have an office with a nice big desk and shelves full of books, but since getting rid of the old desktop computer, the office just isn’t “home” anymore.

What can readers expect of you next?

So glad you asked! I’ve started a new series title The Scrolls of Danu. It’s contemporary rather than historical, but again features a paranormal theme. The series will consist of nine or ten short books, each a separate story, yet bound together by a larger ongoing plot. I had hoped to have the first book out by now, but four trips within the past few months and promotional efforts have bogged me down. It now looks like Beyond the Darkness (book one) may hit the virtual shelves in mid November. I hope!

Do you work on more than one project at a time?

Not as a rule until, but I do have three books in the new series going at the same time now.

Just for fun, which do you prefer most and why? Popcorn and a football game or a picnic by the lake?

Picnic by the lake, definitely. I’m not much of a sports fan, although I do love popcorn.

Please share with readers an excerpt from your most current work.

Love to! This is an excerpt from Dearest Irish, Texas Devlins - book three.

Setting the scene, Choctaw Jack has kidnapped Rose Devlin from her brother’s Texas ranch. He knows of her ability to heal with her mind and is whisking her north to the Indian Territory, hoping she can save his dying mother.

Rose regained her senses slowly. Feeling herself rock to and fro, she groggily recognized the loping gait of a horse beneath her. But how could that be?

She forced her eyes open, taking in the starlit sky and the dark landscape passing by. Blinking at the sight, she realized she was seated crosswise on the horse – in a man’s lap. Just like that, the scene in her bedroom with Jack came back to her, and she knew whose chest she leaned upon and whose arm was locked around her.

Panicking, she cried out in fright. Pain lanced through her jaw, reminding her of the blow her teacher-turned-abductor had delivered just before she’d sunk into oblivion.

“Easy now,” the brute murmured. “You’re all right. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

She threw her head back to see his shadowed features. “I’m not all right, ye . . . ye kidnapper!” Cupping her painful jaw, she demanded, “Take me back this instant!”

“Can’t do that, Toppah.”

“But ye must! Tye and Lil will be looking for me.” Catching the odd word he’d spoken, she repeated it. “Toppah? What’s that?”

“It’s you. It means yellow-hair.”

“Oh. Well, don’t be calling me that again. Now turn this horse around and take me back,” she again demanded.

“Nope. We’re heading for the Nations. You might as well relax and enjoy the ride.”

“Enjoy the ride, is it? You’re daft!” She pushed at his steely arm and attempted to twist free, but, although his hold caused no pain, it was unbreakable. Feeling smothered and panicky, she shoved at his chest, managing to create a small space between them.

“Be still,” he ordered sharply. “Do you want to fall off and break your neck?”

Before she could reply, another man’s voice sounded nearby, speaking in an unfamiliar tongue. Unaware of his presence until that moment, Rose uttered a frightened cry and instinctively shrank against Jack. His arm tightened around her for a moment. He said something to the other man then spoke softly to her.

“Don’t be afraid, Poe-lah-yee. That’s only Tsoia. He is my friend, my blood brother. He won’t touch you as long as he thinks you’re mine.”

“Yours! I’m not yours!” she shrilled, once more stiffening against him.

“You might not want to let him know that.”

Twisting her upper body and craning her neck, Rose caught a glimpse of the other Indian’s shadowy form. He rode near them and, unless she was mistaken, he led another horse.

“What did he say?” she warily asked.

“He said you screech like an owl,” Jack replied, a grin in his voice.

Rose huffed in annoyance, not liking the comparison. After a moment’s silence, she asked in a softer voice, “And what did ye call me a minute ago?”

“Poe-lah-yee. It means rabbit.”

“Rabbit! I told ye before I’m no scared rabbit.” Although she did feel like one just now, she privately admitted. “Oh, and my hair’s not yellow, ’tis strawberry-blonde. That’s what they’re calling the color back in Chicago these days.”

“That right? Well, I guess I could call you Poe-aye-gaw. That means strawberries.”

“For goodness sake, can’t ye call me by my proper name?”

“I dunno,” he drawled. “Poe-aye-gaw is kinda nice, or maybe P’ayn-nah. That means sugar. Yeah, I like that one.”

Sugar? Did he think her sweet? And what if he did? It made no nevermind to her. Snorting in disdain, Rose squirmed uncomfortably in his lap.

 

List a link for your book, any other links where we can find you.

My pleasure, Ciara. Readers can purchase Dearest Irish here:

         Kindle & paperback

             Nook at Barnes & Noble

Readers can find me here:

 

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