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Posts Tagged ‘Indieauthor’

Yes, summer is beginning to think about winding down for the year. While the evenings have been a little cooler, the days are still hot and humid, thanks to the sporadic rain showers. Of course, the 2 1/2 inches of rain we got a couple nights ago really boosted that humidity. We’re getting ready for my husband’s shoulder surgery later this week, so we’ve had appointments with surgeons, the hospital, you name it, which is why I’ve been absent recently.

So, what have I been up to lately?

Editing. Not my most favorite thing, but it has to be done. At least if I take some time wit it, my editor won’t have a heart attack.

I’ve been through Gregor Thayne, another book from Esperance. This was the first read through and while it had some issues, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. Now, I’ll ;ut it aside for a while before coming back to it. Kind of let my mind take a break.

Next up is my final edit of Lady Calloway, from Sultonna Nadine. I’m still trying to decide on the final title for the book. I’m several edits into this book, so now it’s just finding all the loose ends and spelling errors I missed the first few times. What usually happens is I rewrite something and delete the old version. But once in a while, at 2 am, I don’t get all of something deleted, which leaves it sounding rather strange.

In the meantime, Ben of Blackstone’s Forge is coming along. It will be the fifth book from Esperance, featuring the son of a blacksmith with a unique family Talent. He has iron under his control. His love life on the other hand needs some help.

Have a wonderful week. Stay cool. And pick up something to read this evening.

And as always,,

Don’t Forget…

…to Share the Romance…

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Yes, it’s that time of year again, when the wearing of the green, drinking green beer, and eating green food are all the rage.

But what if that isn’t your scene? Me? I just like to settle in with a nice book, maybe something with a Celtic theme to it, and a nice cup of something to drink..

Esperance. A highland world settled by people from the British Isles and then abandoned. And after centuries in this new place, some of them developed some rather unique abilities.

Or had they been there all along, hidden from the public in fear of persecution?

James Ferguson’s family has a way with wood, and a connection to the forest which would make most people nervous. But it was his family’s way to tell the women they were seriously interested in about their abilities. In James’ case, one woman ran into the street, was hit by a carriage, and nearly died.

He decided he wouldn’t try again–and then he met Morgan, with her dark hair and blue-gray eyes that drew him in. So tiny compared to him, he nicknamed her his Pixie.

But was she ready to meet the Green Man?

Available at Amazon or at Smashwords.

Morgan–The Pixie and the Green Man — Esperance Book 3

Or get the whole series!

At Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/29658

Or Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074CF2323

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If you follow this blog, you’ll know I’m participating in the NaNoWriMo 2019. And my project this year is a funny little story about a genie found in a whiskey jug.

So how about a little sneak preview from one of the earlier chapters? Remember, this is a very rough first draft, but here we go!

WHISKEY JUG GENIE

Eyes watering and trying to hold his breath, Martin finally got the front windows and the back door opened to let the stench out of his dwelling.

“Whew-wee!” he heard from the figure before him. “That was a good one. Been holding it for a long time.”

“What the hell are you?” he demanded.

The figure looked him over for a moment and then answered him with the strongest southern accent he’d ever heard.

“You can call me Bubba,” it said.

“I didn’t ask who you were. I asked what you were,” Martin demanded again.

The figure was about as tall as he was, around six feet, with dark curly hair, dark eyes, and a crooked smile.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. You would call me a genie, though I prefer djinn.”

“Gin? I’m a Scotch man myself.”

“No, djinn.”

“Yeah, gin. I’ve got it.”

“Were you born slow, son? D-j-i-n-n. Djinn.”

“I thought you guys lived in bottles. Not whiskey jugs.”

“No, usually we live peacefully in caves, places like that. But we sometimes get trapped in things like bottles or jugs. And I’ll be tellin’ you, it ain’t pleasant.”

“Why are you here?” Martin asked, reaching for his Scotch.

“You bought my jug.”

“But if you’re free of the jug, why are you still here?”

All he needed was a magical roommate. Now how did he get rid of this guy–Bubba. What sort of name was Bubba?

“That’s where the curse comes in. Unless you can take off the curse, I’m bound to this dad-blamed thing forever. I don’t suppose you’re a wizard?”

“I dabble in white magic, but curses? Don’t know a thing about reversing them.”

“It figures. Somebody finally comes along, buys the darned thing, but can’t help a fella out. Story of my life. What have you got to eat around here?”

While you’re waiting, why not check out some of my other writing? All my books are available at Smashwords and Amazon.

Later this year, the next book from Gambler’s Folly will be out, so watch for The Russian, Book 3!

Brown jug with a cork in it

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