Book Blogger Hop I'd jump in a book with Harry Dresden

 Every Friday Crazy for Books.com blog will post a question centered around books/reading. It's like a book party every weekend. So check out the list of great blogs participating this week on Crazy for Books.com Here is this weeks question and my answer. 


 Book blogger Hop Q: "If you could physically put yourself into a book or series…which one would it be and why?"

Hmmmm you know that's a hard question. Especially since the books I like to read are kind of on the dangerous side. 


I think I'll pick the Dresden Files books by Jim Butcher. There's some magic by a handsome wizard/P.I.. Who most of the time is down on his luck but hey I don't mind. We would face all the dangers of normal man and that of the other worldly creatures that creep up to cause havoc. With the aid of his trusty hockey stick of course. Yeah Murphy would have to go though. Sorry babe you lost your place in line. :) 

 

Until next Happy Scribbles :) 

  

Valeska Gorstef from HALF gets Interviewed by a Superhero

Stella Stargirl puts the Super in superhero! She is the wonderful creation of author Jack Hessey, from his upcoming YA novel True Hero. Jack has also penned Steam Queen, a steampunk adventure.

Stella sat down with Valeska Gorsteff, main character of my novel HALF for an interview. Go on over for a visit and get acquainted with these characters and their stories. Stella Stargirl Interviews Valeska Gorstef 

 

#5MinuteFiction Blog Tour Week 3 My Entry

The #5MintueFiction Challenge was created by author Leah Petersen. A word prompt is provided and you have 5 minutes to write your fingers off. I took the challenge today while #5MinuteFiction is on blog tour, with week 3's host R.B. Wood. This week's prompt was Pub and below is my entry. Enjoy and hope to join you at the next #5MinuteFiction Challenge.

Siting in the dark corner he watched the room. The pub wasn't busy on a Tuesday evening. Where was she, the woman had called his office in a panic. She had to meet with him, something about information on his case.

The doors opened and he looked over anxious. The leads he'd had so far were bumpkiss. Maybe this crazy sounding dame would have something new.

A tall brunenette slid in next to him on the bench seat. Her eyes wide  with nervous fear. They darted around the room as she pulled out a worn envelope. “This didn’t come from me. You never met me. “

Just like that she was gone. As the pub doors slammed shut I opened the envelope and gazed at the new evidence. Yeah, this was just the lead I was lookin’ for. These photos were the ticket to a hefty raise maybe a promotion.

 

Book Blogger Hop Friday (on Monday)

I just found this wonderful hop thanks to Fellow Writer, Rebecca Bradley.  Every Friday Crazy for Books.com blog will post a question centered around books/ reading. Here is this weeks question and my answer.

**Yeah, yeah I know this is Monday but I’m doing my best to pretend it’s Friday. :P

Book Blogger Hop Q:  "Do you read only one book at a time, or do you have several going at once?"

My Answer: I usually will have at least two, sometimes three. I don’t have an e-reader so they are usually paper or hardback books. Sometimes a PDF version of an Ebook.  There’s no real reason for my multiple reads other than I just like variety.

Just like when I write I usually have more than one project going on at one time. I’m just wired that way I guess. J  One of the books is usually some kind of Nonfiction, something about history or a historic place.  The others are pure fictional escapes. 

Right now I’m reading The Anatomy of Ghosts by Andrew Taylor, Aslyum Lake by Richard Evans, and How to Play Poker for Dummies.  That last one is a bit of research for a character who is a professional gambler. My real life game would lose the house, the car, and maybe the kid. J

Until next happy reading, hopping and scribbles J

     

Beware the Ides of March

 

It was dark in the alley, the perfect cover to watch for him. The club across the street was alive with music, lights and people. Maybe she should go in… no,  he would come out. She just had to wait.

It was damp and cold after the evening rains, but, nothing she couldn’t stand. There had been too much planning done already to waste the moment. It had to be done tonight. Suffering a bit of cold would be worth it in the end.

Loud music flooded the street when the club’s doors were flung open. There he was, that was him. Walking out alone, no tramp hanging off of him like so many others who had left before him.

He walked into the parking lot next to the club, not paying any attention to the rest of the world around him. 

When he paused to light a cigarette she grinned. It was him, he was perfect. She walked over to the lot and smiled at him.

He smiled back. “Good evening.”

She didn’t reply, mustn’t seem so anxious. Walking over to her car she let go of a frustrated sigh looking at her rear tire. “Damn it, not now…”

Setting her purse on the roof before she moved to the back of the car and opened the trunk.  She leaned inside and pulled out the jack and walked around to the flat tire.

He walked over and grinned. “Have a flat, can I give you a hand? No sense in a beautiful woman getting all greasy.”

She laughed and smiled back. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m a serious girl with this stuff.”

He grinned and nodded as he slid the jack under the edge of the car. “I’ll say you forgot a part. Do you mind if I look in your trunk for the tire iron?”

“No, go ahead. See I told you I have no idea what I’m doing there.”  She grinned, shifting to accentuate her ample form for him.

He smiled and walked around to the trunk. He pulled his eyes from hers and looked in. The iron was way in the back. He had to bend half into the trunk to reach it.

She watched and waited until both his hands were inside the trunk and he was leaning way inside. Quickly, she moved to him sinking a needle into the back of his neck. Her thumb pushed the plunger as she looked around, to make sure there were no other eyes on them.

In a few seconds he slumped, collapsing half into the trunk. She grinned as she tossed the needle inside then hefted the rest of him. 

For just a moment she paused and looked down at her victim. The rest of the night would be spent in blood as she has done since the betrayal. None leave her now. He will be hers tonight and in the morning she will bury him near the others. “Beware the Ides of March.” 

    

Happy Read an Ebook Week

March 6^th thru 12^th is National Read an Ebook Week . A week to celebrate being able to take your favorite characters with you wherever you go. Okay so the first ebooks weren’t so portable.

They were stored on huge computer systems designed just for the storage of knowledge. The first Ebook was a copy of the Declaration of Independence by Michael Heart in 1971.

I remember back in the early 80’s my dad having a few Ham Raido manuals on 5 ½ inch floppy discs. Not exactly something you could sit in the coffee shop with. Now you can load a book into your laptop or electronic reader like Kindle and enjoy it anywhere you wish.

The Ebook has come a long way in 40 years bringing new options to readers, authors and publishers. It will be interesting to see where the next 40 years will lead us.

So celebrate Read an Ebook Week and download something new or a great classic. Sit back with a cuppa and enjoy a good read.

All three of my books are available in ebook and print form in the Literary Emporium. HALF soon to be featured at the Lake County Festival of Reading is available in Ebook for $2.99. 

Until next Happy Scribbles and Happy Reading

  

Death to the Inner Critic

The Inner Critic is that voice in your head that talks to you telling you if something is worthy of appraisal or not. Everyone has one. It just seems that writers tend to be the most tortured by this voice.

That nasty little voice in our heads if we are not careful will become judge, jury, and executioner to our work.  If we allow it that critic can shut a story down and keep us from submitting our work.  By listening to that voice in our head saying things like. “That’s not really good enough to send out.” “No one is going to want to read that.” “You’re no Stephen King, baby. Or we leave a manuscript unfinished because that voice convinced us it wasn’t what readers wanted.

When that voice begins to niggle… stuff a sock in it. Tell that inner critic to pack his bags and get on the next train out of town. Put him in a bag and toss him in the river. Whatever it takes to silence that voice. 

Writers have to stuff that voice down and get the job done. Tell those stories that are aching to be told. Just as we would with a rejection letter or a bad review, we write another page.  Write another and another until your work finds a home to adopt it. 

The inner critic will come back after a while, but, that doesn’t mean you have to listen to it. What does a voice in your head know anyways? When I was three he told me dirt might taste good… yeah what does he know.