A Thankful Character

 Greetings!

Today I am interviewing my character Ian Pierce, the hero in the first two books of my Rhythm of the Moon series.  I've invited him to our American Thanksgiving dinner. I'm glad he likes children because there will be six of them.

By the way, please don't tell my husband. He doesn't know Ian's here. I have him tucked away in the basement. I'll break the news to him later, and I daresay he won't be surprised. Let's get started:

Me: Thanks for time-traveling to my neck of the woods, Ian. 

Ian: I'm never far away from you, my dear.

Me: True. You'll always be my first book hero love, but I know your heart lies elsewhere, as does mine. 

Ian: Yes, no one will ever match my Maggie, begging your pardon, Mistress.

Me:  You live in the 18th Century in the town of King's Harbour. Tell me how you met the love of her life.

Ian: Let's just say the circumstances were not ideal. We met at a graveyard. She was standing at her sister's grave and I was there mourning my brother, who had passed when I was traveling the world. I did not realize that I was singing. Music runs through my brain and pours out of me like a waterfall. 

Me: Then what happened? 

Ian: Her crying broke through my sorrowful melody, and I went to her. She blamed me for her tears, for opening her up to her grief. Despite her refusal, I walked the midwife home, and as we talked, I admired her strength and resolve to forge ahead and take care of her brother-in-law and her sister's infant child, despite her sorrow.

Me: Then something unexpected happened.

Ian: (Memory glazed his green eyes, making them shine like emeralds.) Yes. I returned to the graveside that night to discover that her sister Sarah's grave had been disturbed, and she was alive, barely.

Me: That must have been shocking and terrifying for everyone.

Ian:  Indeed, but my Maggie took action, and I found I wanted nothing else but to help her with her sister's recovery. She was not herself. And thus began our macabre and supernatural journey to bring her sister back to herself, and to solve the mystery of who could have done this to her. It didn't take long before I loved her, body, and soul.

Me: You returned to King's Harbour to take over the family's apothecary shop. You have training as an apothecary as well as a musician. Why did you travel the world?

Ian: (He looked down at his long, slender hands, and lifted his head again, in his eyes a sweetness that made my stomach flip over.) I have an affliction. It began when I was a young boy. I have periods of great energy, and I think I can conquer the world with my music. I cannot control it. Ideas and music pour out of my head. I cannot sleep, I cannot concentrate. They call it manico-melancholicus. Then come the down times, where I'm thrown into an abyss of sorrow. So I traveled, playing music to make my coin, and searching for remedies. 

Me:  You suffer from what we now call bipolar disorder. Were you successful with your search?

Ian: I learned some techniques along the way to calm myself...somewhat. Then I met Maggie. Her love does not take away my affliction, but to have her love soothes me so and fills me with purpose. 

Me: She sounds like a strong, loving person.

Ian: Yes. (A huge grin lit up his face.)

Me: I want to prepare you for something.

Ian: (His sandy eyebrows rose.) Sounds intriguing.

Me: Before we eat our meal on Thanksgiving, we go around the table and say what we're thankful for. What are you thankful for?

Ian: Oh, I'm beyond thankful for my Maggie. Not only is she strong, beautiful, and capable beyond measure, but she accepts me and loves me for who I am.  Her passion knows no bounds. Though I am full of regret that I am at times not a whole man, she says we will take care of each other, that I give her joy, make her laugh, and fill her soul.

Me: It sounds like you have a lot to be thankful for. I must warn you: our dinners are rowdy, with two toddlers, a four-year-old, seven-year-old, and two teenage girls. And loud adults.

Ian: (He had a contagious laugh, and I joined him.) Do not fret, my dear lady. I frequent the Siren Inn, the most raucous and popular inn in town. Your family surely can't match the rowdy sailors and merchantmen who frequent the place.

Me: (Still laughing.) Don't be too sure. Thank you for the conversation, Ian. I'll bring you up when the time comes. Thank you for your patience.

Ian: (Picks up his lute.) I shall compose a song for our feast. Until Thanksgiving, madam.

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The first book in my series is Mercy of the Moon. I hope you enjoyed the conversation with one of my favorite characters. 

Am I Writing Fiction or Herding Cats?

 

 

I love writing fiction, but I grapple with one problem I never anticipated. I get no respect from my co-workers.

Maybe you think I sit alone in front of a computer all day, but in fact I deal with a group of headstrong employees, and none of them pay any attention to what I suggest.

The staff characters select their own names, involve themselves with all the wrong people, and leave it up to me to bail them out of the terrible situations which result.

Before I started my first book, I expected to wield god-like power over my creations. After all, I was the author, the person in charge, the Empress of my world. (If you hear snickering in the background, it’s the free spirits who refuse to do as they are told.)

My difficulties started with my debut novel, Water Dreams. When the protagonist announced her name was Nik, I thought her outspokenness seemed a little odd, but I agreed to go along with her: my first mistake. If you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.

Since this was a romance, I introduced her to her intended love interest. A handsome, honest, powerful, protective mage, Rowan possessed every quality of the perfect mate for her. However, they refused to get together. He treated her like a little sister, and she considered him a nut case. I arranged for him to rescue her from danger, but she wasn’t grateful. She complained about the method he used to save her. I secluded them in a stilt-house out in the Gulf of Mexico, the ideal romantic setting. Rather than sweeping her off her feet, Rowan brought his mage friends over and flirted with one of the women. Then, Nik went and fell in love with the worst possible guy she could pick. The forbidden relationship put them in jeopardy. Of course, I came up with a way to help them. Did they thank me and cooperate after that? Ha! They ended up in more trouble.

Personnel issues also arose with The Sea Witch and the Mage. Athenia’s job was to seduce Thorne and strip him of his powers, but she found him so attractive, she almost didn’t follow through. 

In Siren Descending (the sequel to The Sea Witch and the Mage), Athenia enlisted the help of a demon to retrieve Thorne from the underworld. The rascal was supposed to be a minor walk-on, but he enjoyed his part so much, he nearly stole the show. I wrestled the story away from him, but he popped back up again at the end. Now, he claims he needs a book of his own, and my editor agrees.

The players don’t just give me a hard time when I’m writing either. Witch Trial Legacy, which will release in 2021, has a couple who fight a lot. One night they argued so loudly in my dreams, they woke me up. I had to tell them to shut up so I could sleep.

Now, I’m working on a new story. I decided the hero would be a wealthy American named Charles, but he informed me his name is Anton. He speaks with a slight European accent. Although born in the United States, he went to Europe for boarding school beginning at about age eight. Furthermore, his family came to this country back in the 1700’s, and he’s a descendant of Huguenots. I don’t want all this history, but the rebels will hold the story hostage until I give them their way.

Other writers tell me they experience this difficulty too. Fictional cast members simply show no appreciation for their creators. While they do what they want, the writer must work around them. They go off in unplanned directions against our will, and they fall in love with whoever they please. When we long-suffering authors finally clean up their messes and figure out how to give them a Happily Ever After with the last person they should have chosen, they merely go on with their lives, not sparing a single thought for all the grief they put us through.

Things are so far out of control, I’m seriously considering starting a Human Resources Department to institute some rules and regulations! It's about time they realize who's the boss around here. (Guffaws ring out from all directions.)

Thank you for joining me here today on The Pen Dames Blog. If you’re interested in learning more about my miscreants, please go to my website: http://katherineeddingersmits.weebly.com/

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Who are You...Do you know?

 Beyond working crossword puzzles and occasionally trying new recipes I don’t have hobbies because working on the next new novel fills the major portion of my time. However, I am an avid genealogist. Much to my regret interest in researching my family history came to me late in life.

Marcus Garvey said, “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.”

Knowing, recording, and preserving your family history directly impact you, your family, and even future generations of people you may never know. 

Human beings desire attachment, belonging, and connection. The relationships we form with other people can be incredibly durable, not only with people in our present, but also with people in our past and future.

Knowing our cultural background and where we came from can help us develop a strong sense of who we really are. 

In my new novel Christmas at Hope Ranch, the heroine, Addison James, doesn’t have that core of identity. Although she is a successful model and dubbed the most beautiful woman in the world, Addison is lacking that connection with family and has no inkling of her family history. You see, she was abandoned in a bus station with no note of identification, and not yet old enough to talk, she doesn’t know her name. The people at Child Protective Services named her after two streets that intersected the bus station: Addison Avenue and James Street.

Addison lived her entire life at Hope Ranch, a foster home for children who were deemed unadoptable. At the age of eighteen, she packed her meager belongings and left Hope Ranch and the small town of Meadow Creek, Idaho, never to look. A horrific accident and catching her fiance and maid of honor in a not so honorable position leaves Addison scarred, both physically and mentally. Needing comfort she returns to the only home she ever knew and to Nellie Hopewell, her foster mother.

Enjoy this excerpt from Christmas at Hope Ranch, a contemporary romance with a thread of paranormal, and an ending guaranteed to make you smile.

After a moment of silence, Addison gazed at Nell. “Who am I?” She waved her good hand. “Oh, I know my name and how I got it. I know I was found in a bus station and no one ever came forward to claim me. All my life I’ve wondered—who am I? Who was my mother, and why didn’t she want me?” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’ve held people at bay for fear of letting them get too close…for fear of not being good enough to be loved. I’m not even sure I truly loved Rowan.” Her voice trailed off.

Nell clasped Addison’s hand. “I wish I had to the answers about your mother. The box with the news articles about you is in the attic. You poured over those clippings a million times when you were growing up. I’ve kept them in case you wanted them. And, just so you know, that Rowan guy is a real bastard. Be glad you found out about him before you were married—saved yourself more heartbreak and probably a costly divorce.”

Addison squeezed Nell’s hand. “You are so endearingly practical.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Nell stood. She pierced Addison with a stern frown. “You are Addison James—smart, successful, beautiful, and a woman with a lot of love to give. And don’t you forget it.” She yawned and said goodnight.

Addison stood at the base of the attic stairs. Why not let the ghosts of her past remain inside a box? The lure of what secrets might lie inside led her one step at a time until she stood at the door and opened it.

As a bonus, in the back of the book, I’ve included recipes handed down from two of my grandmothers.

So dear readers, I leave you with a quote from Christmas at Hope Ranch: “It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters. It’s who is gathered around ~ Anonymous 

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Character Interview: Garnet McAnna from Lord of Fire

 

I'm with the Interstellar Post, and today I'm pleased to interview Garnet McAnna from the paranormal fantasy romance, Lord of Fire, Wytchfae #5.

Ms. McAnna, thank you for meeting with me. Your work in saving innocent fae familiars has been well documented. If you don't mind, today we'll speak on a lighter note. Are you happy with the setting of your story in Lord of Fire?

Call me Garnet. As for the question, are you serious? The Florida locale was fun, but my author wields a sadistic quill where I’m concerned. Not only did she plonk me into a risqué club called Slice to be sold to the highest bidder, but before I could get in a good lip-lock with my hunky guy Gabriel, she stuck me in the Middle Ages during witch-burning times! When I asked her about it, I admit I was a little on the grumpy side. Her reply? “We must give the reader an interesting story.” Then she had the gall to suggest it was Gabriel, me, and the demons who kept on waltzing into trouble. “I’m only a conduit.” Some nerve on that book-broad!

Are you upset your name is not in the title?

Not at all. I love nothing more than to pay tribute to the Lord of Fire, my Gabriel. *breathless pant* However, I will admit that my mind played around with some cute alternative titles. Any of those would have worked if my author hadn’t been secretly gone on my man. Things like Garnet McAnna: Demon Hunter or maybe Garnet Stokes the Fire. *chuckles*

Who was your favorite supporting character?

Anyone but the alligator. Okay, I'll be sincere. Fern is my best friend, of course, and Estelle helped save my life. I must say I enjoyed getting to know Angel, as well. She’s a little madcap, but who wouldn’t be, with a hot rock star boyfriend like Lucien Silver?

Were you happy with your wardrobe?

Meh. I loathed that red slinky dress they put me in at Slice. It was slit from here to Timbuktu in both front and back. Later I got a thrill to see it draped over a chair in ruined tatters. I did love it when my author put me in Gabriel’s blue shirt though. It smelled delicious, just like him. *secret smile*

Is your love interest the way you pictured him? Or would you have preferred another type, say with different hair or eye color?

Never in a million years did I imagine meeting an irresistible dark guardian in the forest at midnight while on my way to hunt down a demon. As for hair, Gabriel has luxurious hair—long, silky in my hands, and black enough to show blue streaks. And his eyes! Gold no less! Other men pale in comparison, let me tell you. Oops, thanks so much for your interest. Gotta go—Gabriel’s texting me to come over and go horseback riding. 

No problem. Thank you for your time. Would you ask the Lord of Fire if he'll grant an interview later on?

Will do. See ya! *pants and smiles*

For Garnet and Gabriel's story, please consider Lord of Fire. That's it for now, readers. Stay tuned for more star interviews from the Interstellar Post.

Cheers from the Pen Dames--Heart, Humor, and Happily Ever After!

Posted by Flossie Benton Rogers