Vickie King, author of the fantastic new series The Braddocks has stopped by this morning to share some interesting tidbits about the unique little town of Corrigan that you won’t find in Carly’s Rule or Dusty’s Fate, and perhaps something about herself as well.

Welcome Vickie, it’s nice to have you visiting my virtual beach bungalow this morning. You must be pretty excited about the release of book #2 in the Braddocks series. I got to wondering about this town called Corrigan. I know there’s a lake there and a delightful pastry shop along with beautiful old homes. Tell us a little more about Corrigan and the people we might meet there.

Thank you, Skye. I’m happy to be here. Yes, I was extremely excited to see the release of Dusty’s Fate.

Corrigan is bits and pieces of different towns where I’ve visited and even lived. It’s a place where I would want to live. The older sections of Corrigan are truly neighborhoods. It’s where families have known their neighbors for years. Their children have gone to school together from kindergarten to graduation. Families get together to have cook outs. But the lake has been a draw, so Corrigan is growing. There are also a few newer housing developments and more businesses.

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Luke Donovan returned in Carly’s Rule, hired by the historical society to restore an old building in town as well as work the old Thaxton House for his friend. What’s the history of Corrigan? Are there any historical sites I might want to visit - in my imagination of course?

Yes, there is a small castle built in the late 1800’s. There’s a story behind this, but you’ll have to wait until Landon’s story comes out to find out the history.

Are the Thaxton House and Brian Thaxton going to be featured in a future book? Carly and Luke bought the Thaxton house and renovated it. At this point, Brian doesn’t come back into the story, but you never know.

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We all met Dusty in Carly’s Rule and I am so glad to finally have a chance to read his story. Tell us a little about Dusty (and the lady he’s going to fall in love with.)

Since his wife died, Dusty has lost his way. He took too many risks. He’s tired of his family hovering over him, as if they feared his grief would propel him off the deep end at any moment.

Julianna “Jules” Donovan is definitely a loner and fiercely independent. As a foster kid, she used to want a family, but she’s had enough families to last a lifetime. So she is not waiting on some Prince Charming to come along. Unlike her mother, Jules will do anything to protect her child.

Anything else you’d like to share either about yourself, Carly’s Rule, Dusty’s Fate or book number 3 – is there a title yet?

Book #3 is about Landon and Roxie. The working title is Landon’s Hope. Of course, that could always change.

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For everyone who’s read Carly’s Rule – is Carly ever going to recreate that cookie recipe? 

She will if I can ever find the recipe. LOL. You see, that recipe truly exists. My mom used to make it when I was a little girl. If we find the recipe, I’ll definitely post it.

Perhaps you’d like to share a teaser with us here and a link so we can hop right on over and buy the whole book once our interest has been piqued.

Skye, thank so much for having me. Your blog is sensational, and I think that being able to write in front of a window that overlooks the beach is amazing. Although I’d probably be one of those people who does more gazing out the window at that beautiful scenery than writing.  

Actually, Vickie, I do a fair amount of daydreaming looking out that window, but some of that can be productive if I'm plotting things in my head. The bigger distraction is that I live on the corner where everyone in my nieghborhood goes by to get to the beach. And they always wave and if the window is open, say Hi. My dog, sociable being that he is, insists on not only himself going out to greet them, but I have to go out to greet them with him. He keeps nudging my wrist until I give up trying to type and get up to go out with him and be sociable.

If anyone would like to read a teaser, here is a bit of the first chapter. I’m also including the link to the book on Amazon. It’s available in print or e-book. Thanks for allowing me to share this. Below are also links to my facebook page and blog.

Link to Dusty’s Fate on Amazon:  http://tinyurl.com/ofubxbn

Facebook page:  http://tinyurl.com/jvkn37b

Blog:  http://vickielking.blogspot.com/

West Virginia Private Investigator, Dusty Braddock, takes a job to put some distance between him and his hovering family, who believe he’s on a downhill path to disaster. Three years ago,  Dusty's wife and unborn child were killed in car accident. He hadn’t been behind the wheel, but he believed he'd killed his wife and the baby growing inside her as surely as if he had been. The guilt consumes him and festers in his heart.

Foster system survivor Jules Donovan wants to find a guardian for her son, to assure a stable family life for him should anything happen to her. The likeliest candidate is a man who may be her brother. Getting to know this man and his family is Jules' priority, but could leave her vulnerable if a DNA test proves they are not, after all, related.

Dusty's family is connected to Jules' efforts, and the case puts him in the middle of her problematic life. Yet, he can’t seem to walk away from her or her son.

Jules wants to belong to someone. No one has ever truly cared about her, or said I love you. Now, the only man who ever made her feel like she belongs wants more than she can give. But can she ever go back to her normal life if trusting him proves to be a mistake? 

Chapter 1

When looking for a missing person, experience had taught Dusty Braddock to be prepared for anything, but nothing could have prepared him for the woman standing in the doorway of the garage apartment.

Something about those vivid blue eyes windowed an old soul, or maybe she could actually see into his soul, into the blackness of the guilt that would be forever anchored there.  Nauseated that his own blame never strayed far from his mind, he scrambled internally to put his thoughts together.

“Julianna Donovan?” Between two fingers, he held up the beige business card he’d picked up at The Artist’s Mall in Scottsdale where she sold her pottery.

He saw the moment the young woman in the loose-fitting khaki shorts and clay-smudged tee shirt recognized it as hers. She had to be asking herself how he’d gotten her home address, when only her name, web address, and phone number were listed on the card. As a private investigator, her physical address had been the easy part for him.

She stared at him as if she were memorizing his features in case she had to identify him in a lineup or describe him to a sketch artist.  “That’s me.  But customers aren’t allowed at my workshop, and I don’t sell any pottery out of here . . . ever.”

Yeah, well, he wasn’t all that friggin’ excited to be here either, but he had a job to do.

“If you need something special made, place your order through the website, through the Artist’s Mall, or call the number on the card.”  The woman took a single step back from the doorway.

The motion released a waft of blessed coolness from inside that teased his skin, which had been heated by the blazing Arizona sun.  He glimpsed the potter’s wheel behind her, evidence that the ground floor of the two-story garage unit served as a workroom.

“About that,” he blurted out quickly for fear she might close the door in his face and secretly wishing she would so he could get on with his life.  “This is too important for a phone call.”  He pulled one of his own business cards from his shirt pocket and then handed it to her.

She took it, regarded it warily and frowned.  “A private investigator?”

“I’ve been hired to find Betsy Donovan.  You’re her daughter, right?”

Her eyes widened, big and round like the deer back home in West Virginia, when headlights spellbound them in the dark.  Within seconds, the initial surprise drained from her eyes, leaving a guardedness that bordered on defiance.

“Betsy Donovan gave birth to me, but she’s been dead for years.  Why are you looking for her?  If she had old debts—”

“I know she passed away.  I’m sorry about that.”  He had a copy of the death certificate in his messenger bag.  “This isn’t about money, though.”

“Then, what?”

“My client hired me to find his mother, Betsy Donovan.”

On a sigh that appeared to be born more of relief than frustration, some of the tension drained from her face, putting a little more natural color into her high cheeks, enhancing that earthy, scrubbed clean look about her.  Her lips curved in a slightly crooked tilt, and for the first time, he noticed the resemblance to his brother-in-law, Luke.  Dusty’s stomach twitched.  Not just any twitch, but that old, familiar, sit-up-and-pay-attention hitch he’d always gotten when he was on the right track.  He hadn’t experienced it in a long time.

“Has to be a different Donovan.  I don’t have any siblings, Mister . . . .”  She looked at his card again.  “Mr. Braddock.”

“Dusty will do.”  Sensing more than seeing her withdrawing from the conversation, he glanced behind him at the old-fashioned glider on the open breezeway that connected the garage apartment to the house next door.  He motioned toward the seat.  “Maybe we could sit for a minute.”  He hated to do business under the unspoken threat of a door about to be shut in his face.

“Why?  Your Betsy Donovan wasn’t my mother.  Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

How he wished he could excuse her and be on his way, but since he’d accepted this case mainly to get away from his family’s hovering, he only had himself to blame.  “Give me two minutes, and then I’ll go.”

She sighed, looked over her shoulder.  He got a glimpse of the dark braid that fell down her back to her waist.  Then she stepped out pulling the door nearly closed, yet never taking her hand from the doorknob.  Guess he had his two minutes.

“Years ago, my client’s mother left a six-year-marriage and a five-year-old son behind in Texas.  The son hired me to find out what happened to his mother.”  Dusty couldn’t fault his brother-in-law, Luke, for wanting that closure.  At least someone in the family would be able to put their past to rest.

“Well, there you go.  The woman who gave birth to me wouldn’t have stayed with the same man for six months, much less six years.  Now, please—”

“I’ve followed the trail of my client’s mother from Texas to Arizona.  Was your mother born in Texas?  If she had lived, would she have been forty-eight years old this year?”

Her eyes widened, but only for a few seconds.

With the exception of the rattle and hum from the ancient air conditioner poking out of the window only a few feet from him and releasing a constant drip, the seconds rode out in silence.

Her shoulders sagged a little.  “Let me make this easy for you.  My mother was an alcoholic.  She stole, turned tricks, and did whatever she could to get booze.  She never had a normal life with a husband and a son.  You have the wrong person."

No love lost between this mother and daughter.  “I don’t think so.  I think you’re the right Julianna Donovan.  It’s possible you and my client, Luke Donovan, share the same mother.”  Without an actual DNA test, Dusty had only his research and gut instincts to go on.

“Think about it,” Dusty continued.  “How many Betsy Donovans born in Texas nearly forty-eight years ago had a daughter named Julianna?”  No coincidences.  “I’ve done my research, and all the pieces fit.  I have a copy of your mother’s death certificate, and it lists she had two live births.  I also know that after Betsy’s death, her daughter, Julianna, grew up in foster care.  Were you in foster care?”

“Yes, but . . . .”  As her voice trailed off, he could practically see the woman mentally sorting through the bits of information, taking in the news that she might have a sibling.

Luke had given Dusty enough history that offered the possibility Betsy had been pregnant when she left her marriage.  Julianna could very well be, not just a half-sister to Luke, but a full sister.

When Julianna didn’t comment further, Dusty knew he’d have to carry the conversation.  “Does this change your mind at all about the possibility that we’re talking about the same Betsy Donovan?”

She lifted her chin a notch.  “I think we’re done here.”

Searching his mind to find something she could relate to, he latched onto her stint in foster care, because it meant she’d had no one else.  “I would think you’d like to know if you have relatives.”

“You’d be wrong.”  Her gaze hardened, until her eyes reminded him of the icy blue, prize marbles he’d had as a boy, yet something shadowed there in those eyes, something that tugged at him.

He could kick himself for not getting the name of her foster family, if nothing else than to help with her acceptance of the situation, but he hadn’t been at all sure how far he’d be taking this for Luke.  No matter what she said, his gut told him that since she’d been a foster kid, she’d be hungry for family, regardless of whether her foster years had been a good or a bad experience.

He opened the well-worn leather messenger bag, preferring it to the fussy new briefcase his parents had gotten him last Christmas, and pulled out a manila envelope.  “I’d like to show you some photos of my client and his family.  They were meant for your mother, in the event I had found her.  I won’t take up a lot of your time, but I think it would be a shame not to at least look at them.”

Dusty had asked Luke to gather a few photos.  There weren’t any pictures of Luke’s mother.  He believed his father had destroyed them all.  They’d been gone since Luke was a kid, so Dusty had selected a few of Luke as a boy and several more recent ones.

The woman stared at the envelope.  After some hesitation, she looked up.  “Mr. Braddock, I’m sorry.  I can’t help you or your client.”

“Can’t or won’t?”  What would make her not want to find out for certain if she had relatives?

“It doesn’t really matter, since the result will be the same.  I’m sorry.”  She slipped into the coolness of the workroom and closed the door.  Something intrigued him about that whispery lilt to her voice, and he knew it would stick in his head for a while.

*

With trembling hands, Jules Donovan flipped the lock on the workroom door, and then hurried to the window to look out.  The private investigator crossed the street and got into a dark sedan.

Unsettled, she lifted her hand to cover her mouth.  A brother?  Was it really possible?  If it were true, how could she have gone her whole life without knowing, without her mother mentioning him even once?  It didn’t make sense.

In her early years, she’d wanted a family more than she’d wanted her next meal.  She’d wanted a mother who cared, who gave warm hugs, and who whispered words of comfort at night to keep the boogieman at bay, which usually came in the form of one of her mother’s drunken boyfriends.  It hadn’t taken Jules long to have that dream squashed by reality, and it still made her quake to realize how close she’d come to being violated as a youth.

She kept a microwave in her workroom and went to it now to heat water for a cup of chamomile tea to take away the jitters.  She punched the button for ninety seconds and then leaned against the worktable.

No way could anyone convince Jules that her mother had ever led a normal life with a husband and a child.  Not the woman she knew, the woman who lived out of a bottle and rarely acknowledged her own daughter.  At the absurd idea, Jules nearly laughed.  Nearly.

She made the tea, sipped at it and willed it to calm her, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the visit from the private investigator

Like coarse sandpaper, painful memories of her childhood scratched the surface of her mind.  She didn’t need anyone else in her life.  She had a few good friends, and she had her son.  At the moment, he jabbered in the playpen she kept set up so she could watch him while she worked.  Long ago, she’d put to rest the need for someone to love and comfort her.

Now, that same need, which had lain dormant for years, began to pulse inside her once again, growing with intensity.  She huddled in a corner of the workbench, drew her knees to her chest and prayed for the feeling to go away, just as she’d done so many times as a child.

Her only solace—the safety of her workroom below her cheerful garage apartment sheltered her, instead of her taking refuge in the closet of that tiny, dirty apartment she’d shared with Betsy.

*

Dusty sat in a corner booth of a steakhouse near his hotel and took a pull on the bottle of cold beer.  Even if he couldn’t forget her eyes, the woman he’d met today wasn’t very approachable and not at all receptive to the idea she had a brother.  He could call Luke, give him the news that his mother had died years ago, but that he might have a sister.  No might about it.  He did have a sister. Dusty saw too much likeness and too many similarities for it to be coincidence.  Then he could turn it all over to Luke and let him take it from there.  Case closed.

The right thing to do would be to see this through to the end.  At one time, Dusty would have done exactly that without a second thought.  But that man didn’t exist anymore.  He didn’t want to make the effort to try to convince this woman she had a brother.  If he couldn’t fix his own life, what made him think he could fix anyone else’s?

The old Dusty was dead and buried along with his wife, and it had nothing to do with the grief he should feel for her—the grief that his own family thought rooted his demise over the past three years.  Fearing he might plunge off the deep end at any moment, they watched him too closely.  They thought he was simply going through the grieving process, still mourning the loss of his wife and child.  If only they knew the truth.  Guilt outweighed his grief by far.

How could he properly grieve for a woman whose blood covered his hands?

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Vickie King is from a small town in West Virginia. She transplanted to Florida in 1994, and while she loves living in the sunshine state, now and then she misses watching the seasons go through their changes. If she closes her eyes, she can still imagine herself standing on the deck of their family home, staring out over the hills and valleys that will always be a part of her.

Vickie is previously published in short fiction with both romance and mystery for Woman’s World Magazine. She is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA) and is active in her local chapter, Ancient City Romance Authors (ACRA), where she is a past president.

Presently, Vickie is working on a third contemporary romance in The Braddocks series. Book One, Carly’s Rule, was released in September 2013. Book Two, Dusty’s Fate was released in May 2014.

On a personal note, Vickie has four grown children, five grandchildren, and a Chihuahua named Bentley. She has the best family and friends anyone could have.

It's been great fun having Vickie over to visit my virtual beach bunaglow with the ocean at our feet. I hope you've enjoyed meeting her and a few of the characters in her books. If you haven't read Carly's Rule - you've missed a really good story.

Check it out: 

I put my baby to bed tonight. I’ve lived with this book far longer than any other book I’ve ever written, and there were times I wondered if I’d ever get to the end. Times when I wondered if I even wanted to. But all those months living with Ben and Meg Cameron and they feel like a part of my life. It will be strange to get up tomorrow morning and not sit down to be with them. If I didn’t have a history trip planned with my granddaughters, I’d probably knock around the house for the next week or so feeling a little lost. But….

Like all children, this one is sure to keep getting up several times before finally calling it quits. As surely as a child wants a drink of water and another hug, there will be edits to tend to. Then, like a child who calls for its parent to come scare away the monsters living under the bed, my editor is sure to find things that need fixing, or even holes big enough to drive a semi through. And the water and the monsters will have to be dealt with. But it won’t be the same. Never again will I be on the same roller coaster ride with Ben and Meg: wondering, hoping, getting anxious, crying or praying for a happy ending.

There are a number of bright spots though to this ending. One will be seeing my new cover for the first time – that’s always exciting, especially considering the brilliant covers this lady designs. Another will be actually holding the book in my hands and seeing it pop up on Amazon. Royalty checks will be nice too, but the brightest spot of all is that this is a series, and it’s one I am thoroughly enjoying. My editor suggested I try writing short stories connected to Tide’s Way and that’s been fun too – creating new characters to people my town, each with fun little stories of their own.

Be sure to check back here now and then, and I’ll keep you posted on the progress of LOVING MEG and the release dates for this book and the short stories. In the mean time, I’m headed back to Tide’s Way to meet the lady that will be the heroine in my new book, the one about Will, who is Ben’s twin brother. Or maybe it will the other brother, Philip, the oldest in the family. Both have a story to tell, and I am as eager as anyone to find out how they are going to end now that Jake and Ben have found their happy ever afters.

So, for tonight – sleep tight and don’t let the monsters get you – or better yet, make friends with them – you just never know what kind of an adventure that might turn out to be!

I often wonder how many different answers I’d get if I asked random people on the street what Memorial Day means for them. Far too often when I contemplate the question, sadness overwhelms me when I consider some of the answers I might get.

When I was a small child, Memorial Day meant a parade, ice cream and visiting the cemetery to put flowers on family graves. Looking back, I remember my mother calling it Decoration Day and that meant decorating graves even though they were just great grandparents and not soldiers who had died in battle. When I got older the day still meant a parade, but by then I was marching with the high school band and sitting on a sunny slope listening to the local dignitaries make speeches. I began to realize that it wasn’t just about decorating graves. But it still wasn’t very personal.

As a young adult, half the men in my generation served in a country few of us knew anything about and the other half were protesting the draft, the war and the unfortunate soldiers who answered the call. What a difference compared to the unity of purpose of the Greatest Generation! My brother was one of those unfortunate young men who had unmentionable things shouted at them and thrown at them when they finally returned stateside, scarred forever by a war we could have won, but didn’t have the political will for. A childhood friend lost his life flying his fighter jet off a carrier in the South China Sea. High school friends died fighting, tending to the wounded and flying helicopters. I finally began to understand what Memorial Day is really all about. Later, when I visited the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC for the first time my gut-deep reaction to that shiny black wall made it all very personal. 

Today, the advances in medicine and emergency care are saving more and more of our young soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines from the ultimate sacrifice of war, but there are still far too many who leave grieving parents, heartbroken wives and husbands and children who will never know their fathers or mothers. Today is a day for honoring those who have fallen in defense of an ideal. The ideal of Democracy. The idea of America. And in faithful service to each other.

There will always be parades and grand speeches. There will always be barbeques, beer and friends enjoying an extra day off from work. The beaches and parks will teem with people looking for fun and relaxation. Merchants will grab the opportunity for extra sales. But while your heart is thrumming to the beat of drums as the band marches by, while your mind wanders as the speeches begin to repeat themselves, while you’re pursuing your day in the sun or dickering over the price of a new car, take a moment to remember all those we have lost. Starting with that first brave soul who lost his life facing the might British Army across a village green in Lexington Massachusetts. Remember the sailors who finally trounced the seemingly invincible British Navy in 1812. And the thousands who fought over keeping America whole during the Civil War, the men in the trenches of WWI and the thousands who died in so many far away places in WWII, the men and women of my generation who struggled in Southeast Asia and all the little wars in between. And especially remember those who stepped up to volunteer, both before and after 9/11, giving up so much to defend us against an enemy who would like nothing better than to wipe America off the map.  

Memorial Day is a day of remembrance. Honor those who have fallen in the defense of freedom in every generation. Today, when all the hoopla is over, I’m going to the cemetery alone. I plan to touch the top of each headstone and thank each one for their sacrifice. RIP. God bless you. You are not forgotten. What will you be doing to mark this day?

  Happy Monday. Today at Blogging on the Beach, we have Kathryn Bain visiting us to participate in the Big Easy Writing Process Blog Tour. She is the award winning Author of Beautiful Imperfection, Catch Your Breath, Breathless, Day & Knight and Game of Hearts. Be sure to check them out - all of them will keep you turning pages and wishing there was more when you get to the end. 

And now on to the tour:  

1) What am I working on? Instead of an inspirational mystery or suspense book, I’m working on a book of encouragement for women titled “Holding the Hand of King ((Having the Confidence to Accept God’s Grace and Love). It’s a Bible study for women.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre? Normally I write fiction and I’m a bit edgier than some Christian authors. I have a tendency to accuse Christians of not following Jesus more than a sweet Christian writer would. Plus I really enjoy killing people in my books.

3) Why do I write what I do? Being a Christian, I feel led to write what I do because of my beliefs.

4) How does my writing process work? I plot most of the story but leave myself room for changes if need be. I write the entire story through, then go back and begin my edits. I hardly have any setting in the manuscript to begin with. Most of what I have is dialogue, action, and of course murder (hehehe). 

If you have any questions for Ms. Bain, be sure to comment below and she will do her best to answer them. 

Next Week, be sure to visit:

Sharon E. Buck is one of those people who can find something funny in almost anything...backing up six feet in a far and getting her elbow stuck in the headrest, gardening in the backyard, screaming because there are snakes trying to crawl up her legs and then realizing it's the drawstrings on her shorts dangling down and gently caressing her kneecaps and thighs...you've got the picture!

and Selena Fulton, who was born in a small town in Indiana and moved to Florida as a teen. Now that their daughter has grown, Selena and her husband are empty-nesters - if you don't count the cat! Selena enjoys camping, morning strolls along the seashore, making jewelry and reading. 

She is a multi published author with new releases coming (She'll post them as soon as the release dates are set.) She belongs to First Coast Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America, and Ancient City Romance Authors. Currently serving as VP of First Coast Romance Writers, she believes in "paying it forward" by working with fellow authors in her critique groups and judging contests. 

     Skye-Writer - on tour...

Hi folks. I hope you are enjoying this great Big Easy Blog Tour adventure and all the many authors you have met a long the way. Marilee Brothers was the lady who twisted my arm with an invite to join the tour. In her words, “how could I say no?”

The thrust of this tour is to share our personal writing process, and maybe pick up a few hints from other authors along the way.

1)  What am I working on?

I am currently working on three things. I am revising and editing the just completed first draft of book #2 in the Camerons of Tide’s Way series, LOVING MEG, which will come out from Bell Bridge Books next year. I’m also finishing the research and working on character back stories for the third book in that series. And with any free time I have, I’m revisiting a time travel romance I wrote some years ago that I know is a great story, getting rid of all the beginner mistakes I made while writing it and making it a stronger, better novel.

2)  How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I like stories I can relate to so I don’t write about the super wealthy folk who live a lifestyle I can only begin to imagine. I don’t enjoy either reading about or writing about glamorous models or movie stars either. I like heroes who work and play hard, but whose strong calloused hands can be gentle enough to cradle a baby or a lover’s cheek. I like the kind of men who put their lives on the line for others, whether it’s rescuing a puppy from a kill shelter, or gearing up and marching into war as an ordinary soldier. I like heroines who have a mind of their own and an agenda for their lives. Heroines who end up having to make difficult choices to make room in their lives for love. I want my readers to feel as if the characters in my books could live in their own neighborhoods. I like my characters to give of themselves beyond their own needs, wants, families and jobs. I want them to volunteer in soup kitchens, visit shut-ins, walk dogs in shelters, participate in fund raisers to help others, care enough to shovel the walkway of the elderly person who lives next door or stop to help someone with car trouble. Not too many people actually wear blue collars any more, but that’s the kind of characters I write about. Ordinary citizens – the great middle class of America. Jake Cameron and Zoe Callahan in my recently released FALLING FOR ZOE are just that kind of folk.

3)  Why do I write what I do?

When asked why I wrote WHATEVER IT TAKES, I often tell people that I am so discouraged by the current trend in politics, that I decided to write my own characters and my own endings. But in truth that book morphed from a story about one man’s struggle with a ghost from his past that seriously impacted his run for president. Other characters got created and the story began to take on a whole new life of its own. Mostly I write romance because who doesn’t enjoy a good love story. I write time travel because the concept of suddenly being plunged into the past intrigues me. I enjoy history as a hobby so for me the time travel is always into the past. 

4)  How does my writing process work?

I am a Pantser! I’ve tried to plot books. Struggled with outlines, used plotting notebooks and a half dozen other techniques for plotting before the book gets written, but it just isn’t my style. I get ideas from many places: some come to me in the shower or on long walks on the beach. Sometimes I see a vignette in real life, just a piece of something going on between two people and wonder how it ended, which makes me want to create an ending. One time travel book I wrote came to me as I explored a long deserted island off the coast of Maine, and while standing on the lip of an old fieldstone foundation, the thought came to me, ‘what if I fell in here, hit my head and then woke up with a roof over my head?’ I went home and researched a bit more about that island’s history and Iain’s Plaid was born. (That’s the book I’m revisiting in my answer to question #1 and I hope to see it in print one of these days soon.)

My stories are very character driven. I usually spend several days just writing backstory, starting when they were born or at least when they were young. I write them as if I was telling you all about this person I’ve known all my life. Sometimes going back to pick up an important incident or characteristic, but just sort of free hand, telling their life story. When I’m done I really know that character well. I do this for both my hero and heroine, then I put them down in the opening scene and let them go. I am often surprised where my characters end up taking me. Sometimes even shocked. And more often touched. As I hope you will be when you read my books.

Next week, be sure to see how Kathryn Bain, Heidi Sprouse and Sharon Drane answer the same four questions. Scroll down for more about these writers.:

Award winning author Kathryn J. Bain’s fifth book, Beautiful Imperfection, was released September 29, 2013. Her book Catch Your Breath took Third Place in the 2013 Heart of Excellence Contest for her inspirational romance and Breathless took First Place for Inspirational Romance in the 2010 Royal Palm Literary Awards.

She was the President of Florida Sisters in Crime from 2010-2012 and is currently the Public Relations Director for Ancient City Romance Authors. Kathryn has also been a paralegal for over twenty years and works for an attorney who specializes in elder law.

Kathryn grew up in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. In 1981, she moved to Boise, but it apparently wasn't far enough south, because two years later she headed to Jacksonville, Florida and has lived in the sunshine ever since. Kathryn will be a guest for this blog tour at this same Barefoot on the Beach address.

Heidi Sprouse was born in Albany, NY. A wife and mother, she's been teaching for 20 years in upstate New York, and can add big dreamer to her resume. After diligently working on writing for the past ten years, she's joined the team at Bell Bridge Books to bring readers a collection of romances and romantic suspense novels that are sure to make readers fall in love.  Her recent book, All the Little Things is a unique and heartwarming story that you won’t be able to put down. Sam and Megan have loved each other since childhood. Marriage has always been their destiny. But lately they've lost a fragile balance between them. Now Sam has given himself a deadline to win her back or lose her forever.

http://heidisprouse.wordpress.com/

Many years ago, Sharon Drane was hired to work as a social worker in a large metropolitan area. During her tenure she saw the worst that humanity had to offer from abuse of innocent children to abuse of elderly or disabled adults.  She saw many people starving or in desperate need of medical attention.  Some clients she could help.  For others it was too late. In order to cope with the daily sadness, she began to write colorful stories of beautiful ladies and strong men.  In her world, no matter what happened the couple lived happily ever after, able to overcome any obstacle and find a way to be together.

Now retired, she writes full time.  She lives in north Florida where she looks after her two elderly Shih Tzus and her 93-year-old father. She is the current president of Ancient City Romance Authors, a local chapter of the Romance Writers of America.

Her first novel, Touch the Sky, will be published in late 2014.  True to her dreams, it is the story of lovers who suffer a catastrophic event.  Wrenched apart, each filled with pain, is there hope of reconciliation?

The time in between….

I just wrote THE END to the second book in the Camerons of Tide’s Way series. There is still a lot of revision and polishing work to be done, but I’m letting it rest. For a number of reasons. First, of course, is that writers get very close to their work, it’s a case of not seeing the forest for the trees. So, it’s better to step back and give it a little time and space. Then when you return to start the revising and polishing, you have a fresher eye to look at it with. Another is distance from the characters. One becomes to totally immersed in the lives of your characters, their feelings, hopes, fears and loves, that stepping away for a bit makes returning like an almost new adventure. Sometimes you read a passage and think, WOW! I wrote that? That’s awesome. Other times you go Whoa! That’s awful! Definitely need to fix that. And then there’s the What? Scratching your head wondering what you were trying to say here. So, giving your work time and emotional distance helps to return to it far fresher and ready to do the story and your characters justice.

So, what should I do with this moment? These several moments?

There’s book three in the series. Jake and Ben had two more brothers and a sister, all who want their story told. I am torn currently between Philip who is the eldest and who has a major personal struggle ahead of him that he doesn’t see coming, and Will, Ben’s twin brother. He’s on a fast track in his career when he meets the woman he knows is “the one.” Only problem is that she won’t even agree to a dinner date because of the line of work he’s in. Both stories and both heroes intrigue me. Both heroines are ladies I can so relate to, whose lives are busy, satisfying and yet have a hole they don’t realize is there.

Both books require some research and believe it or not, I love the research part. Learning new things and visiting new places are great adventures. My library unfortunately appears to have very little on either subject so I’ve purchased books online that are on their way to me right now. I am eager to get started. And then there’s the internet which is a wonderful treasure trove of links and information. I sometimes wonder how writers ever managed to find out all the stuff they needed to know back before Google. One book I was writing, was set in 1970 and my heroine was a Boston Red Sox fan, specifically a Carl Yazstremski fan. And I needed to know if he was playing regularly at that particular moment in time. In just minutes, I had the entire lineup for all the games played that fall. I knew what games the Yaz played in, who they were playing against, and even if he got a hit. Amazing!

Then there’s all the chores I’d have assigned my husband had he still been alive. Chores I kept putting off while I was rushing to finish the book. And if none of this appeals to me, spring has finally decided to happen, the weather is gorgeous and my rambles on the beach can be a whole lot longer. Then when I get back and Duff has had his shower, I can take one of those books on my To-Be-Read pile and go stretch out in the hammock and read. In fact . . . the heck with the chores – they can wait. I have a great book calling to me and that hammock sure looks comfy. 

A couple days ago, two ladies I’m in a writing group with were discussing cleaning projects they’d launched at their house. They put me in mind of my grandmother, who, in spite of working outside the house in an era when women did not, also gave her entire house a thorough spring and fall cleaning every year. My mom did, as well, at least back when I was growing up. But somehow that particular discipline never stuck with me. Even when I was a stay at home mom. Although I was far more of a neatnik back then and tended to get after dirt and clutter as fast as it accumulated. With four kids growing up around me, it was pretty much a necessity or we’d have been buried in less than a week.

With only a hint of hesitation, I admitted I admired their dedication and hard work. Then proceeded to explain how my cleaning gets done, which is anything BUT organized. My bathroom tends to get cleaned when I’m getting ready for bed. Turning on the lights in there illuminates the need and if I say I’ll do it tomorrow, I’ll forget. The shower gets cleaned when I get in to use it. The rest of the house is more or less the same. I’m looking for something and I disrupt the To-Be-Read pile on my ottoman so I end up sorting through the accumulation of magazines, clippings and books and put them where they belong. If I reach for the alarm clock and knock a pile of books on the floor by mistake, then I end up schlepping that pile to the library and dusting the table they were on, which by then is usually so dusty, I can write my name in the stuff. My desk and my library are the worst.

Full of good intentions, I tell myself as I turn out the lights at night that “tomorrow” I’ll clean my desk. But when I return, I have to check my email. And Facebook. And a few other sites. Then check again in case something new arrived. Sometimes it’s a bill so I log onto my bank site and pay it. Then the snail mail arrives and I sort through that. Among the junk that gets tossed, there’s usually something that does need to be kept and filed, but rather than taking the 60 or so seconds it would take to file it right then, I add it to the bin of things to be filed. If something needs to be done in relation to it, I stack it on the pile of things I need to see to ON the desk. Then, I really need to get some writing done. As I turn off the light at the end of the day, I promise myself that tomorrow, I really REALLY will clean my desk. You can guess how that works out.

And then there’s the To-Be-Read piles. I do have a Kindle. I also read books on my iPhone and iPad. But in spite of all the technology, there are piles of printed reading matter everywhere waiting for me to get at them. When I tell people one of my hobbies is trying to keep the To-Be-Read pile from taking over my house, I’m not whistling Dixie! The stuff really does tend to take over the house and every room in it. But at least I’ll never run out of great things to read. That would be far worse.

So, happy reading…. Clean if you are so inclined, but whatever you do, have a fantastic Day.

  In just a few more days, FALLING FOR ZOE, book #1 in The Camerons of Tide's Way series will be out. Here's a bonus peek at Zoe's new beginning....

“Hi, Daddy.” Zoe Callahan’s phone had only been connected for a day and she was surprised to hear her father’s voice on the other end so soon. “What’s up?”

“I see you went through with it.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“Not really. You’re as stubborn as your mother when you get the bit between your teeth, but I didn’t give up hope until your sister called to pass along your new phone number. I still don’t think this is the wisest thing you’ve ever done. You used to be so sensible.”

“I used to be so dull, you mean. I did what was expected of me and didn’t ask questions.”

It hadn’t been entirely her father’s fault that his oldest daughter had lived the life she had until now. When Zoe’s mother had died in childbirth a piece of Patrick Callahan had died with her and in his despair, he’d not realized that it wasn’t fair to expect a thirteen-year-old girl to hold the family together.

But Zoe had done just that. Still reeling with grief, she’d given up the carefree life of a teenager to become the nurturer her siblings so desperately needed. There had been a nanny for the first couple years. After all, Zoe was still in school and Bobby, the newborn needed full time care, but as soon as he was old enough to bundle off to a day-care center the nanny had moved on, and Zoe was in charge.

“Bobby wasn’t happy about having to do his own laundry,” her father went on, ignoring her unflattering self-assessment. “The stains in his baseball uniform wouldn’t come out, and the shirt he wore to church on Sunday looked like it never saw an iron at all.”

“Bobby will be headed to college in a few months,” Zoe reminded her father. “It’s about time he learned how to do his own laundry.”

Zoe rummaged through a box marked kitchen utensils trying to find a spatula to flip her hamburger with. Once supper was over, she was going to finish unpacking the kitchen so at least one room was organized.

“I know a good realtor if you decide this whole home-ownership thing was a bad idea.” Zoe’s dad didn’t give up easily. Probably what made him a good lawyer.

“I already love it here. I’ve met both my neighbors, and it’s a great place to bring up kids. I’ll manage with the house. I always do – manage that is.”

Patrick Callahan snorted on the other end of the phone line. “There’s nothing wrong with Wilmington for bringing up kids if you insist on keeping your baby. And there’s plenty of room in this house.”

“Daddy, we’ve had this argument, and I’m not changing my mind. Okay?”

Another snort.

“Would you like to come out to dinner on Sunday and see my new place for yourself?”

“Maybe another Sunday. The Abstinence Board meets this weekend.”

He hasn’t forgiven me for ignoring his advice. Or for blowing my entire legacy from Grandma on a down payment for this wonderful old house. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to challenge him, but she bit back the retort. Her father was her father, and he wasn’t likely to change. If she wanted her life to go in a new direction, it was up to her. This historic old house was her new beginning.

“I gotta go, Daddy. My dinner’s getting cold. I love you.”

Patrick Callahan grunted something that sounded like goodbye and the line went dead.

Zoe collected her rapidly chilling hamburger and a glass of sweet tea and headed to her porch and her spectacular new view of the waterway and the ocean.

And, as it turned out, an equally spectacular view of her handsome new neighbor, Jake Cameron, who was wielding a weed whacker along the fence that separated their two properties.

As Zoe settled into the ancient rocker, she marveled at the glorious pink and gold colored sea as it reflected the sun sinking slowly toward the western horizon. But then her gaze was drawn back to the man. His sun-streaked hair fell into his face as he worked, and when he tipped his face up to flip the wayward bangs back into place, their eyes met. He grinned and waved.

New beginnings were a good thing. A breathless feeling of excitement surged through Zoe’s chest. New Beginnings were a  great thing.

  Hi folks, It's Michael Bear here again. I promised you an interview with Jake Cameron - that handsome fella that lives next door to the old Jolee place that Zoe Callahan just bought. Poor guy is living in a houseful of females and here comes Zoe - just what he needs, another woman in his life! But he's a good guy with broad shoulders, and you'll just have to read FALLING FOR ZOE to find out how he makes out. (Available by April 5th on Amazon.com and other sites, including this one.)

Hi Jake Cameron, welcome to Blogging on the Beach. Our readers met your new neighbor the other day so now it's your turn to tell us a little about yourself. 

Jake: The name’s Jake Cameron. I’m 34, single again, although I didn't choose to be, and I have three little girls. Well, one of them isn’t so little. She’s 15 going on 21 and it scares the bejeesus out of me. I want to protect her forever, but I’m beginning to realize I can’t and it’s killing me. She’s my little girl, you know? And there’s the twins. They’re five and cute as the dickens. They say the funniest things sometimes, and they always make me smile. I don’t know what life would be like without my girls. I wanted to get a degree in Engineering, but things didn’t work out how I planned. So, I worked my way up from the bottom, and now I’m a construction site manager. I like working out of doors and the job fits. On the side I’m a volunteer fireman. Makes me feel like I’m giving someting back to my community. I’ve got one sister and three brothers. My parents live over on the island and I’m lucky to have such a great family that’s always been there for me. I like kayaking on the sound and fishing, but don’t get much time for either. I didn’t do much to deserve it, but I’m a pretty lucky guy.

Michael: Is there anything  your creator doesn’t know about you?

Jake: Yeah, there’s probably a lot she doesn’t know about me. After all, I’m a guy and she’s not. There are guy things women just don’t get. But the biggest thing?  I guess that would have to be that scene she wrote where I confessed to seducing Marsha Jolee. I did a lot of dumb things back then, but one thing my mom and dad insisted on was whatever else I did, I was going to be a gentleman. So, I let everyone believe it was me that conned Marsha into sneaking off into the bleachers for a little necking party instead of the other way around. Anyway, one thing led to another, and she got pregnant, and that was just as much my fault as hers, but I figured if I took the heat it would go easier on her. That’s the biggest thing Skye Taylor doesn’t know about me. 

Michael: If there was one thing you could change about your life, what would it be?

Jake: Well, like I said a minute ago, I should have kept my pants zipped when I was seventeen, but back then I thought I was invincible.  But since then? My plans for college at UNC got shelved to be a dad, and I should have gone to night school. It always felt like I didn’t have the time what with earning a living and taking care of my family and everything. But that's one thing I regret. 

Michael: When you were a kid did you have a favorite hero? Someone you wanted to grow up to be just like?

Jake: My dad was my hero. He knew everything and everyone looked up to him. Besides my mom told me he was her hero and she never told me anything that wasn’t true. He's still my hero. I just wish I was half the man he is.

Michael: Is there a movie or TV show that's a big favorite, or made a big impression on you?

Jake: Saving Private Ryan was definitely a movie that made a difference in my life. Not the movie so much as what it taught me. Back when I was in school, history wasn't my favorite subject and WWII seemed like ancient history, but this movie made me think about the things my grandfather must have lived through. He never talked about it much, but he was one of the men who went ashore on Omaha Beach on D-day. Granda was one of my heroes, too. Even more so after I saw that movie.

Michael: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose to live?

Jake: Right here in Tide’s Way. It’s where all my family is, except my brother, Philip, but when he comes home, this is where he comes home to. Most of my aunts and uncles live close by over in Wilmington. It's a big family, but I like it that way. I love the ocean and it’s right there where I can see it from my porch. I like knowing everyone in town. It’s a great place to bring my girls up in. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.

Michael: What advice would you like to share with your readers?

Jake: I'm the last person who should be giving anyone advice. I pretty much learned everything the hard way, making the wrong choices first and then having to live with them or work even harder to put things right. But maybe I’d tell them to keep an open mind and don’t let the mistakes you made in the past keep you from taking a chance when something good comes along. One other thing I've learned is that the only way to get past the things you’re afraid of is to face them head on.

Michael: Somehow, I don't get the feeling there's much you're afraid of. Being a volunteer fireman must take courage, more than most jobs anyway. 

Jake: (chuckling) You'd be surprised how many things scare the pants off me. I just learned how to hide it. Most of the time.  

Michael: Well, it's been nice chatting with you Jake. I wish you well with that sassy, sexy little package that just moved in next door. And try not to worry too much about that teenage daughter. She seems like a fine young lady. 

  Next week, FALLING FOR ZOE, book 1 in Skye Taylor's Camerons of Tide's Way series will be available on Amazon.com. But I thought you might like to meet Miss Zoe Callahan ahead of time. Tomorrow, I'll interview Jake Cameron, but today is the heroine's turn. Ladies first. In case you're wondering about me, I'm a small bear who's been everywhere with Skye Taylor, even in her pocket when she jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. She took me to the South Pacific when she served in the Peace Corps and all through Southeast Asia on her way home. I've been to Ireland and Paris, too. So, trust me, I'm in on most of her secrets and I know things even she doesn't know.

Michael: Hi Miss Callahan and welcome to Blogging on the Beach. Tell our readers a little bit about yourself.

Zoe: Where do I begin? Let's see, I'm a little bit of Scots and a little bit who knows what but mostly Irish, but then maybe you already guessed that from the name and the freckles and this awful red hair. I’m twenty-seven and completely unattached, but I haven’t given up hope of finding Mr. Right some day. My mom died when I was thirteen, and I was the oldest so I’ve been the lady of the house more than half my life and didn’t have a lot of time for dating and worrying about myself. But that’s about to change. My baby brother is off to college soon, and I just signed away my life to buy my very own home. It needs some work, but I fell in love with it the first time I saw it. I love to imagine my children growing up in this wonderful old house and here in this friendly little town of Tide’s Way. I recently broke up with the guy my father was hoping I’d marry so Dad’s not too happy with me right now.  Porter wasn’t the man I hoped he was, but the less said about him, the better. I work for a really super woman in an Edward Jones office. She’s the Financial Advisor, I do everything else and we have a great partnership. Oh, and I just rescued three pooches from the local shelter. I thought it would be nice to have a dog around now that I would be living on my own, but when I visited the shelter right after they had a big pet adoption event, there were only three pups left. There they were, looking at me with these pleading eyes. How could I choose just one and leave the other two behind? So, life is a little hectic just now, but I’m looking forward to a whole new beginning for all of us.

Michael: Is there anything Skye doesn’t know about you?

Zoe: She has no idea where my name came from. She already knew a lot about me as the story started plotting in her head, but my name popped out of nowhere. She never met anyone named Zoe, but Zoe is Greek and it means alive. And here I was, suddenly alive and helping to write my own story. 

Michael: If there was one thing you would change about your life, what would it be?

Zoe: I wish my mother was still here. I miss her a lot. I know she’s watching out for me from heaven, but that’s not the same as being here where I could hug her any time I wanted. Sometimes I just wish I could talk to her so bad it hurts, you know?

Michael: Yeah, I imagine that's not easy. But back before that, when you were still a kid, who was your favorite heroine?

Zoe: I always wanted to be Heidi. I thought it would be so exciting to live in the Alps and climb the mountain every day with Peter and his goats. She had a lot more freedom than I ever had.

Michael: What’s your favorite movie of all time? 

Zoe: I love the Sound of Music. I went to see it on a stage once, too. But I’ve watched the movie over and over and I never get tired of it. Maybe it’s because I always wanted to be Heidi and live in the mountains like Maria. 

Michael: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose to live?

Zoe: Oh, Gosh. That’s a hard one. I’ve never really been anywhere further away than Washington DC and Florida. The Swiss Alps maybe? But if I lived there, I'd never have found this beautiful old house or met Jake Cameron. 

Michael: What's one thing you've learned about life that you’d like to share?

Zoe: Never give up on your dreams.

Thank you for stopping by Miss Callahan. We'll look forward to your adventures in Tide's Way. Good luck with that big old house and the handsome fella that lives next door.