Release Promotion–One Winter Knight, a medieval Christmas anthology

One Winter Knight Trade Web

Hear ye, hear ye! Looking for medieval romance? Tales of knights and their ladies abound in ONE WINTER KNIGHT, a wonderful collection of medieval holiday novellas for your reading pleasure!

You’ll be held spellbound by this boxed set of captivating stories from some of today’s top medieval authors, as well as some rising stars in this up-and-coming genre. Lindsay Townsend, Deborah Macgillivray, Cynthia Breeding, Keena Kincaid, Cheryl Pierson, Beverly Wells, Patti Sherry-Crews, and Linda Carroll-Bradd have woven eight excellent Yuletide tales of love lost and found that are sure to keep you reading far into the night. Laced with holiday traditions and the excitement of a bold, dangerous era, Prairie Rose Publications is proud to offer yet another wonderful boxed set of medieval Christmas tales for your reading pleasure.

This collection of novellas makes a wonderful holiday gift for hours of entertaining reading—for others, or for yourself! These stories are certain to keep you enthralled as you read on to find out how these knights and ladies find their very own “happily-ever-after” endings ONE WINTER KNIGHT…

the cover for boxed set
the cover for boxed set

Pre-order now for the November 3rd release

Amazon link

Behind the story…

Many years have passed since I’d considered writing a medieval setting, but I wanted to challenge myself. The way I got inspired was to look through the travel book I used for my trip to Ireland in 2014. Although the location wasn’t a place we visited, I was intrigued to learn about a motte-and-bailey wooden castle built on a strategic river location that was later rebuilt in stone as Kilkenny Castle. That kick-started the story wheels. Ireland is a country that has seen its share of political strife, and I picked a time when the Norman influence was relatively new. So I was introduced to Richard de Clare, Count Striguli of Normandy, France aka Strongbow, a Norman leader who came to Ireland as an ally to a failing king, bringing troops to bolster the king’s fighting strength, and ended up marrying his way into a kingship. I’d found my setting and the political climate of a people serving non-native born rulers.

Tagline: Will opposing political beliefs and family loyalty keep the lovers apart?

BLURB: Weaver Thordia Ulfsdottir can no longer wait for her brother to request payment for the sword he crafted—the money is needed for food. In Castle Kilburren, she demands an audience with the Earl but is thwarted by a tipsy knight. Rory MacGuignard, captain of the castle guard, flirts, thinking she’s come to provide entertainment and he’s enjoyed a few kisses from traveling minstrels before. Realizing his mistake, Rory arranges a temporary job for this poor but proud woman he’s offended. Time spent in his company softens Thordia’s opinion. When opposing political beliefs and family loyalty rip them apart, Thordia despairs of finding a way back to Rory’s side

Guest Release Promotion—Dark City by Kenneth Gordon



Jeremiah Xidorn is taken from the world he thinks he knows into a one of decision when he discovers the truth behind the company he works for.  Artificial Intelligence has progressed farther than Man expects. Now they want to go even further…and replace Man altogether.


Class Act Books


Amazon UK



“I’ve been promoted. I am now in my boss’ position.” Joe flailed his arms with glee.

“That’s great. Congratulations!” they all said in unison.

“Where’s Joe?”

“I don’t know. He just left. An appointment I guess,” Sarah responded.

“The ’droids are settin’ things up, so I’ll stay out of their hair for a bit.” Jeremiah spun around as if to show off to his friends. . Something was off, but he couldn’t pin it down. Joe had disappeared, and no one seemed to know where he went.

“I’ll find him,” he told himself and bolted for his new office.

The androids had done their work quicker than expected, and Jeremiah’s office was quiet when he got there. He had to use the scanner to get in. Immediately, he was taken aback. On his desk were pictures of his family that he didn’t put there. Setting that thought aside for the moment, he jacked into the phone system and sent the sequence to dial.

He called Joe’s office. No answer. A moment later, he called the central office to see if Joe could be located.

The automated attendant replied, “We are sorry, that person is no longer employed at this company.”

A sense of panic raised the hair on the back of his neck. Immediately, he ran with every ounce of strength to his friend’s office. It was empty. No trace that Joe worked there or had ever worked there was found. It was swept clean.

“Maybe I went to the wrong place,” he thought. “All these offices look the same.”

To his own chagrin, he knew too well the location of his friend’s office. The paranoia built to a steady state when, upon finding his other compatriots, they had no knowledge

that Joe had ever been part of their group. Jeremiah’s heart sank. He even checked the payroll office and no trace of his friend could be found.

“I think I’ll go home. I’m not feeling well,” he said out loud.

The security desk saw him approach. “We’re sorry you aren’t feeling well. Go home.”

Even in his emotional state, he couldn’t detect any emotion coming from the people behind the desk. It was as if they had been replaced by replicants. “Yeah, thanks. I will.”

Jeremiah made his way to a CAB, slid in and told it where to go. He was going over to Joe’s house. The place where he lived was no longer a single family dwelling, but a high rise multi-unit condo style building. There was no trace that Joe ever existed.

Jeremiah checked the street sign to make sure the CAB didn’t take him to the wrong place.

There was no mistake. Joe had been intentionally erased.

Kenneth Gordon-1024

Kenneth Gordon grew up in Milford, NH and still lives in that state. When he isn’t writing scifi-infused horror novels, he plays PC games, electric and acoustic guitars, and drums. He also holds a brown belt in Kung Fu.





Class Act Books

Doesn’t Everyone Love a Field Trip?

One aspect of being a writer I enjoy a lot is the research. Lots of information can be gathered by spending time online. Now, the trips we used to take to the reference desk at the local library are reserved only for when we get stuck. Clicking links at the bottom of Wikipedia pages can sometimes be like going down the proverbial rabbit hole. Some can lead to obscure articles. But I have followed URLs and found original sheet music from the 1850s or playbills from a 1870s opera. I lucked out when I located a vaudeville poster from the 1880s (in Google images) that gave me great ideas on what to include in my story Laced By Love that featured a traveling vaudeville troupe. Yesterday, I needed a reference to Catholic saints for a short story titled Golden Moments and found who I needed on Wiki. Did you know a patron saint exists for clowns and carnival workers? Amazing.

Today I’m driving, heading almost as far south as Texas extends—to South Padre Island to a writers retreat with friends from my San Antonio chapter. Yesterday, I spent time in a small town that I’ve kept in my mind as being the one I’ve used as a base for my fictional town of Dorado. I wanted to walk the layout of the real town, snap some pictures, and see any historical buildings or places. The series, Dorado, Texas, contains both contemporary and historical stories with ancestors, descendants, and entangled families. My goal following this trip is to write an origin story for how the town was first settled. With what I learned, I know the creation will be easier.

Guest Interview of Kara O’Neal

Welcome to Kara who has several releases of historical romance fiction.

Tell us a bit about you and your background.

I’m a teacher. I vowed up one way and down he other I wouldn’t enter into the profession. But God had other ideas. While I hadn’t planned on working in education, I certainly never thought about being an author. My sister challenged me to rewrite the end to a book I hadn’t cared for, and I did. In my head. Which opened up a new world, and soon I had four core families in a tiny Texas town in the late 1800s living in my imagination. It took thirteen years, and lots of rewriting, but I published my first book in 2013 and haven’t slowed down.

What are your hobbies away from the computer?

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to do anything else. I’m a mother of a cellist, trumpeter, and baseball player. I’d love to continue scrapbooking, but our children are too busy to allow for that kind of hobby. It doesn’t disappoint me because it’s truly a joy to watch them do what they love, to see them grow and change. I can’t believe I am so fortunate as to know them.

If you use music while writing, name your favorite types.

Well, the music I listen to while writing is whatever chant or cheer are played during an Astros or Texans game. I’m usually watching my favorite teams win, or lose, while I pen stories of romance and intrigue.

Have you traveled to any locations that appear in your books?

I sure have. I am a native Texan and have traveled all over the state with my husband and children. All of my books take place in Texas, however, the 5th story, The Soldier’s Love, starts in Nebraska (I have been there, too.) and ends in Texas. The fort in my 5th book is based on Ft. Davis in West Texas.

Describe a normal writing day (or period, if you have other employment obligations).

When I get home, I almost immediately start writing. I write while I cook supper. I write in the car while waiting on a child to finish practice, or CCE, or a club meeting. I usually have about 30 minutes in the morning before I have to walk out the door, and I write then, as well. Every free moment I have, I write.

What’s your dream vacation destination?

Ireland. My husband is going to take me for our 20th wedding anniversary. I cannot wait.

In what genre do you read?

I read all books. I’ve read everything from Jane Austen to Tony Dungee (football coach). My absolute favorite author is Jane Austen. She transcends time. My favorite genre is definitely romance, though. I can’t get enough of people falling in love!

Love's Redemption 1019


When she was little more than a child, Willa Kramer went to extreme lengths to save her family from their abusive father. After that horrible day, her mother and siblings moved to Tennessee, and Willa had hoped to leave Texas, its memories and Lonnie Davis, the only boy she ever trusted, behind. But fate is unpredictable.

Five years have passed, and Lonnie finds himself reunited with Willa, the only girl he’s ever loved. He’s determined not to let her slip away again, but a figure from the past looms, threatening his hopes for the future.



Resplendence Publishing


Lonnie excused himself from Willa’s parents, and despite his silent commands to give Willa space, he couldn’t keep from following the lady who had occupied his thoughts for the last several years. It would be odd not to speak to her. They’d been close. Once.

When he stepped into the vacant kitchen, he caught sight of her form through the screen door. She stood on the porch, her hands lightly gripping the rail, gazing at the outbuildings, field and the trees shading Glebe Run. The breeze caressed her, sending wisps of her hair to float around her face.

He paused. His chest tightened. He’d waited a long time to see her, had wondered if he ever would. Years ago, she’d wrapped him around her little finger, and he’d grown so attached to her, he’d thought about moving to Tennessee to be with her. But then she had stopped writing. To say it had hurt would be an understatement. But he hadn’t been angry. He could never be angry with her. Never. And now she was back and near. It was too tempting.

After taking a deep breath, he moved forward then went through the screen door. Even though it gave a loud creak, she didn’t turn. Did she know it was he who stood behind her?

The light breeze ruffled her skirt. Her long, velvety hair grazed the small of her back. An ache centered in the pit of his stomach. He’d missed her. And now she was here. “Hello, Willa,” he said, hearing the gentleness of his tone.

She tensed before facing him. Her gaze was shuttered, as if she needed to protect herself from him. Was she afraid? Had he said something in his letters that had hurt her? An urgency gripped him.

“How are you?” he inquired, tamping down the questions he really wanted to ask. Instead, he searched her face for clues as to why she seemed guarded. In the past, he’d been the person she trusted, the person she leaned on. What had he done wrong?

“H-Hello, Lonnie. It’s good to see you.”

Was it? She didn’t seem happy. “It’s…really good to see you, too,” he couldn’t help admitting.

“Did you meet my step-father?” she asked.

“I did. Seems like a nice fellow.”

“He is. He makes Mother happy.”

When she didn’t continue, he racked his brain for a response. Nothing came to him. Her upturned face held determined lines, and the barriers in her hazel eyes left him silent.

“Greg likes him,” she inserted into the awkward silence stretching between them.

He linked his thumbs through his belt loops. “I haven’t seen your brother yet. Where is he?”

She nodded her head in the direction of the barn. “Checking on his horse. He brought Tracks with us. He loves that animal too much to be apart from him for long.”

Lonnie understood. He was the wrangler on the family ranch and dealt with horses most of the time. He had a special relationship with the animals. “And Shelby?” he asked, inquiring about her sister. If mundane conversation was what Willa wanted, he would respect that. Besides, did he really want to ask why she’d stopped writing? Did he really want to return to the road that led to Willa Kramer? It had taken a while to stop feeling something whenever he thought of her. And he still thought of her. Every day.

“Married. She lives in Oregon. She hasn’t met our step-father, but I’ve written to her about him.”

Which meant Willa had indicated whether or not she trusted the man. Lonnie figured she did. If the man hadn’t earned the respect of Willa, Lonnie doubted her mother would have married him.

“How was the trip down?”

She shrugged. “As comfortable as possible. I hadn’t ever ridden on a train. It was much better than the stagecoach ride from Texas to Memphis.”

The day she’d boarded that coach to leave Pikes Run had ripped out his heart. He’d watched her go, unsure of what she meant to him, what he meant to her. A week after the Kramer family had left, Lonnie had understood he loved Willa. He’d written. And she’d replied. But then, after the fifth exchange, she had stopped. Without warning. Without explanation. What had he done?

As he looked into her eyes, it was all he could do not to move closer, to cup her cheek with a hand. He was falling again. Or had he ever regained his heart? That invisible tug he’d felt around her had returned. In mere minutes.

He refrained from uttering a curse. It wasn’t her fault he was still drawn to her. He’d probably never been free of her, though he’d worked like hell to forget her. But seconds had destroyed whatever barriers he’d managed to build, and he drowned in her eyes once more. And again, just as it had been all those years ago, he only needed her in order to keep his head above water.

But walls lived in the depths of her gaze. Walls against him. His gut clenched. Hurting Willa was the last thing he’d ever wanted to do, but it appeared he had. The need to apologize burned his tongue.

“Lonnie,” a male voice called.

Lonnie spotted a lankier, taller version of Greg Kramer walking from the barn toward the porch. Gladness gripped Lonnie, overtaking the frustrated helplessness rushing through his veins. He met the younger man in the middle of the yard. They shook hands, grinning at each other. Greg was a welcome distraction.

“It’s good to see you,” Greg said.

“And you. You’re taller.”

Greg laughed. “I can almost look you in the eye, huh? Might be able to beat you at arm wrestling now, too.”

Lonnie lifted an eyebrow, a grin still tugging his lips. “We’ll see about that.” He gestured toward the barn. “Willa tells me you brought your horse with you.”

A sheepish expression came over Greg’s face. “I shouldn’t have asked my step-father to pay to stable Tracks on a train, but I didn’t want to leave him. I just got him.”

Lonnie could feel Willa’s eyes on him. His body tingled with awareness, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to whip around and jump right over the imaginary fence she’d erected and ask her why she’d stopped answering his letters. He had to put some distance between them. “Can I see him?” he asked Greg.

The young man’s face lit. “Of course.”

As they fell in stride with each other, Lonnie heard the screen door creak. Willa was gone. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

Kara ONealKara O’Neal was born and raised in Texas.  After surviving those awkward years of 7 to 16, she spent two years at Sam Houston State University where she met her husband.  He followed her to Texas Tech University and was proud when she graduated with a Bachelor’s of Science in Human Development.  Soon after graduation Kara followed her heart and became certified to teach Special Education.

She married the love of her life in 1998 and had three children.  The happiest times of her life are spent with her family and friends.  Kara is fortunate to be surrounded by the best and most amazing people God put on this earth.

When she was pregnant with her oldest child, Kara wrote her first novel.  And then rewrote it.  And rewrote it again.  She did this while teaching, raising kids, and traveling across Texas with her husband. Thank goodness for spiral notebooks!






Amazon Author Page

Barnes & Noble Author Page


Guest Release—Nothing to Lose by Darlene Fredette

NothingToLose DarleneFredette


She has one last hope – a small, family-run bakery that might just be baking up second chances.

Dwindling finances has Jesse Robinson running out of options. With a past filled with failures, she longs for a new beginning. Applying for a job she isn’t qualified for may be another crazy mistake, but at this point Jesse has nothing to lose.

Juggling two jobs, Travis Cooper has absolutely no time for a relationship and isn’t looking for one. But when his mother hires an unqualified baker, he has more to worry about than three-tiered wedding cakes. Like whether to break his own no-dating-employees rule and make a little room in his life for love.


Escape Publishing 



‘How hard can baking be? Easy‐peasy. Right?’ She knew her words to be untrue. She’d watched shows on the Food Network. The chefs on television made creating desserts appear simple, yet Jessie’s attempts always ended with opening a window and the lid on the garbage can.

‘I have no choice, and at this point I have nothing to lose.’ Jessie had thought the same before her previous four jobs. Though, she did excel at one particular skill—making bad choices. If only she could include that talent as a positive trait.

She drew in a deep breath to calm her racing pulse. Desperation rolled in the emptiness of her stomach. She’d just go into the bakery and win them over. She had to. The two hundred dollars in her bank account would cover her car payment. As long as I don’t eat or drive anywhere, I’m good.

Darlene resides on the East Coast of Canada with her husband, daughter, and Yellow Lab. When not working on her next book, she enjoys spending time with her family. An avid reader since childhood, Darlene loves to develop the many stories swimming in her head. She writes heartwarming contemporary romances with a focus on plot-driven page-turners.







Guest Post–The Road To Our New Normal by DiAne N. Gates

We are the object of attention—until the day after the funeral. That’s when everyone’s life returns to normal. Everyone else’s life, that is.

But not ours.

After our twenty-eight-year-old daughter suddenly died of a hemorrhagic stroke, we were left on the outside looking in. We humans want to fit in and we’re miserable when we don’t. And in the aftermath of grief we didn’t belong. Anywhere. We felt like we’d been stuffed in a sack, shaken up and dumped out. Forever changed.

There’s good news and bad news about grief. The bad news? We will never be the same again. The good news? Although we didn’t know it, we were on the way to our new normal.

But that’s a long trip.

The days and the months, perhaps years, creep by and we would often long for the way things used to be. Sometimes I chose to isolate or hide behind closed doors so others couldn’t see my pain. Or I’d zoom here and there, filling life with any and everything. Pretending I was okay. Trying to not think, because thinking hurt.

Family and friends preferred the hyper-active me. Because they wanted their old friend back. But though I tried, the old me was gone. Forever.

Death brings us face-to-face with a life-changing reality: Life in this world is brief and death is final.

Things of this world fill our lives, our relationships, even our worship. Most of us have lived as though this is all there is. And in this age of want-more, get-more, we have tethered ourselves to the here-and-now.

Until someone we love dies.

Our gears were stripped and we came to a screeching halt. We were backed in a corner and forced to decide whether we really believed what we said we believed all these years. Could we look beyond the immediate to the eternal? And that’s a major cross-road for each one of us traveling this road called grief. It’s the intersection of a street called Earthly Delusions with the rough and still-under-construction detour named New Normal.

After Michelle’s death, I wrapped myself in robes of self-righteousness and parroted, “Oh, I know she’s with God and everything is fine. I’m okay. Really. Why no, I’m not angry. With God? Don’t be silly.”

And for two years I walked that I’m okay—you’re okay road ‘til one evening a family dispute raked the scab of the lie off my hypocritical words and I bled rage. A glass full of iced tea flew from my hand and splattered against the wall and I heard my voice scream, “You could have stopped this, God. But You didn’t.”

Ah. There it was. I told Him I didn’t understand and I didn’t like what He had done. But in the deathly silence that followed I had to confess to God, I was angry. Like He didn’t know.

And you know what? God didn’t send a lightning bolt to strike me dead. He didn’t turn His holy back and walk away. He didn’t condemn me.

Instead He opened His arms of love and I crawled into His lap and sobbed. And He comforted me like a loving father comforts his child after the temper tantrum subsides and the child is remorseful.

Because of His truth and my repentance, those moments produced my first glimpse of hope and joy in two years. How? The light of God’s truth shoos away the darkness, it illuminates and cleanses the place where anger and bitterness have thrived. Then the power of His Spirit moves into the open spaces and begins to teach us the lessons, up to now, we’ve refused to learn.

In the following months I learned those first lessons, and my attitude changed. I was convicted of the self-righteous things I had said and the proud ways I had acted in the past. And as I acknowledged my own needs, compassion for others filled my previously cold, indifferent heart.

God brought people into my life who were also experiencing the ravages of grief. I could sympathize with the emotions their losses perpetrated. And I was able to comfort them, because God had comforted me. I saw God work in all of our lives and my emotions were refreshed.

Through a series of unusual circumstances God brought me to GriefShare. Then He opened the door for me to lead a support group. And my new normal became a work in progress.

Did the pain go away? No. But I learned that joy and pain can co-exist in my heart. 

I believe grief’s pain is the roto-rooter God uses to increase our heart’s capacity for the well-spring of joy. Day by day, I chose to trust God to lead me forward into this river of new life. Day by day joy became the key to my endurance. And it still carries me forward, day by day.

When our happiness is rooted in people and things that perish, grief becomes our identity. But when the tap root of our heart’s joy is anchored in Jesus Christ, He carries us safely through the storms and tragedies of life. And we grow and blossom when and where He sets us down to walk along the shores of our new normal.

“The wilderness and the desert will be glad, and the Arabah will rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it will blossom profusely and rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy. Encourage the exhausted, and strengthen the feeble. Say to those with anxious heart, Take courage, fear not.  . . . But the redeemed will walk there, and the ransomed of the Lord will return, and come with joyful shouting to Zion, with everlasting joy upon their heads. They will find gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing will flee away” (Isaiah 35:1-4a, 9b-10 NAS).

Where are the roots of your joy planted today?

PRESCRIPTION: Go to and click on Find A Group. Fill in your zip code and select a group near you. Make plans to attend and let God work that new normal in your life too.

Roped Cover


Thirteen-year-old Crissy Crosby chases a dream to live up to her parents’ rodeo legacy. But the rodeo championship is two months away and problems beyond her ability to solve stack and teeter like a game of Tumbling-Towers. Meanwhile rival Jodie Lea and her father, Ed Fairgate, contrive to swipe the silver buckles from Crissy’s grasp any way they can. Prejudice, anger, and dark secrets simmer in a pot of family feuds destined to boil over in a tragic nightmare at the rodeo. Will Crissy develop courage and faith to overcome the consequences of her temper? Will her dreams of buckles and titles become reality? Or will the character-building adversities of her life quash her dreams forever?

Amazon buy link



I raced to the bus stop the next morning, threw my books on the ground, and grabbed Chun’s arm. “I’m gonna ride Mama’s horse in the rodeo.” The words tumbled off my tongue.

“Star?” Chun’s voice barely squeaked. He blinked and his eyes exploded into enormous circles.

The school bus rounded the corner. I grabbed my books off the ground and gave him a nod. “Yep.”

Chun followed me up the bus steps, leaned close, and whispered, “You are crazy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m still gonna do it.” I headed for the back seat, plopped next to the window, and stared up at Chun.

He squeezed into the seat next to me and studied my face for a moment. “Are you not scared?”

I blinked and gulped. “Goodness, no.” The voice inside me screamed liar.

Chun shook his head. “You are crazy.”

The thud of my heart beat in my ears. “Well, maybe a little nervous.” Nervous didn’t even begin to cover this pounding. Maybe Chun was right. Color me crazy.

DiAne Gates 

Texas writer, DiAne Gates, illustrates, photographs, and writes for children and YA, as well as serious non-fiction for adults.

DiAne works as a freelance artist and has written and photographed for the East Texas Rodeo Association magazine, which gave birth to the western rodeo adventure series, released by Prism Book Group in August of 2015. ROPED–Available at  The second book in this series, TWISTED, will be released by Prism Book Group, April 7, 2017.

ROPED had the honor of being selected as a finalist for the Grace Awards this year. And just this past week ROPED has also made the finals for the Christian Literary Henry Awards. Winners will be announced December 2, 2016.

Wife, mother, and Mimi, whose passion is to share those hard life lessons God allows. Lessons she hopes will leap from the page into your heart.


Word Press Blog

Crosswalk Christian Online Magazine

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Guest Release Promotion—Blood Stained Memories by Kathy L. Wheeler

The Writing Life: Ha! I’m not sure how I find the time to write. I was a computer programmer, then laid off and all set to get stuff done! Well. One finds it’s not as easy as all that. All of sudden, you are taking care of stuff that you haven’t gotten to for years, and now that you don’t have a “day” job, you find yourself volunteering for other things. Granted, they do relate to your writing life, but still, they are things that take you away from the one thing you are trying to accomplish—writing!

All in all, what you’ve accomplished is creating more stress. So I’m starting a new resolution…(in October). No more extra stuff! Well, except for this blog. Thank you, Linda Carroll-Bradd.



There on the Gulf Coast in the Florida Panhandle lies the ruins of a haunted, old armory…

Helena Abigail Evans-Ross remembers nothing from her past except the sting of her Aunt Lydia’s hand almost knocking her head from her shoulders. “Don’t look!” she screamed, just as Abby’s gaze meets her father’s blank stare, and the realization that she is holding the bloody knife that ended his life. She’s home to learn the truth—but can she live with a truth is she is the one who murdered her own father?

Pre-Order Amazon Link


I glanced over to my handsome chauffeur. Water from his hair dribbled down a strong neck that disappeared into the collar of his rain-soaked shirt. He and Adam must be somewhere in their mid-to-late thirties by now. I knew his dry hair would resemble burnished gold. The light from the dashboard didn’t reflect the tone of his skin.

I leaned back in the seat and let his accent wash over me. Its familiarity settled nerves drawn so tight I felt I would shatter with a sudden move. I cleared my throat. “Where do you call home, Mr. Creighton?” There wasn’t much of him that reminded me of that long ago young man, just the clipped British words, making it easier to remember to refer to him as Mr. Creighton.

He grinned. Most likely relieved I’d finally joined the conversation. “Call me, Ian. Manchester, mostly. I’ve been here since spring assisting Adam with his research. I spent summers here on the island as a younger man until—” He tossed a quick glance in my direction. “Well, I’d planned on returning home by now.”  His gaze dropped to my ringless fingers before he shifted his attention back to the road. “Though I may find my stay here pleasantly extended.”

Until what? I wanted to scream. Instead, heat flamed my cheeks at his not-so-subtle regard. I curled my fingers beneath my tote and out of sight, at a loss for words. My goal on this quiet Gulf Coast island was not to find romance. My sole agenda dealt with the bland contents of the letter stowed in my bag. A letter stained with my own bloody prints.

Facebook page for the World of Gothic series

Kathey Wheeler

Kathy L Wheeler loves the NFL, NBA, musical theater, travel, reading, writing and … karaoke! Kathy lives in Edmond with her attorney and musically talented husband, Al. She has one grown daughter who has an adorable baby boy, and one bossy cat, who acts as if she were the rescuer rather than the rescue-e!!

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Another Facet I Possess-Self-Editing class teacher

Image result for writer revisions

Credit for the above image is given to BUT get this, the poster is geared to encourage second graders on their their writing. Each item applies to grown-up writing, as well.

A big part of being a writer, if your goal is to have others pay to read your work, is rewriting. A well-known author (wish I remember who) said, “At least fifty percent of writing is revision.” Everything you imagine as being important for the story you’re telling doesn’t come out sounding, or more importantly reading, in the smoothest manner as soon as your fingers stop on the keyboard. If you are one of those authors who can manage a perfect first draft, then stop reading.

If not, then you might be interested in a class I teach called Self-Editing for Fiction Writers which will run next week.

Rose’s Self-Editing Workshop

October 9-16, 2016

Want to learn how to sharpen and deepen Point of View?

Never learned the difference between Show vs Tell?

Want to perk up the pace of your prose?

Need help pinpointing weak spots in your writing style?


Your Instructor: Linda Carroll-Bradd, owner of Lustre Editing

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers

This workshop will provide tips so you will tighten your sentence and paragraph structure to make your writing shine! Through the use of checklists, topical lectures and structured writing/revision exercises for each lesson, I supply tangible examples of what to look for and how to fix it. You’ll get interactive assistance from freelance editor and award-winning author, Linda Carroll-Bradd.

Replacing Passive Voice with Active voice

Identifying Power words to pump up your sentences

Eliminating implied or unnecessary words to tighten pacing

Identifying misplaced modifiers, dangling participles and how to fix this structure

Learn techniques to sharpen and deepen Point Of View

Increase the level of Show Vs Tell in your writing

Grammar & Punctuation Refresher

Claim your personal Style and Voice


To enroll, send your $25 payment through Paypal from the workshop page on

Deadline for enrollment is October 10. (introductions, 1st lesson posted on 10/9)


“I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for teaching the Self-Editing class on Rose’s Colored Glasses. I took the class earlier this year and by applying what I learned to my manuscript, I managed to final in a RWA Chapter contest.”

“… even more than the wonderful tips and checklist and exercises, this workshop taught us how to discipline ourselves, which I love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Thank you. I am more aware of what is entailed to be a writer. I need way more training, LOL.”

“This was by far the BEST class I’ve taken. I learned so much, I’m sure it will all come in handy.”


Guest Cover Reveal—Eye of the Pharaoh by Nancy Fraser

Eye of the Pharaoh 0915


Publicist Teri Hunter has her hands full promoting Professor Joshua Cain and his new non-fiction book, The Pharaoh’s Mummy. She’s not convinced it’s even possible to turn this absent-minded, modern-day, Indiana Jones into a best-selling author.

Dr. Cain’s PhDs in archaeology and art history have prepared him for almost anything on the lecture circuit and among ancient ruins. He’s just not sure about a book tour…or the sexy publicist sent to monitor his every professional move.

When an odd request falls in their laps while in New Orleans, Josh and Teri find themselves transported to 1920’s Egypt where they must resolve an ancient curse in order to be sent home. Will the dangers facing them hinder their success and threaten their very lives? Or will help from an ancient guardian keep them on-track and safe?


Teri stared in amazement at the well-worn guest home Dr. Cain had chosen for their stay. In her mind’s eye, she could see the grand entranceway of the Marriott on Canal Street, feel the pampered luxury of the hotel spa. Instead, she got this . . . an early nineteenth-century home in obvious need of repair. Collingwood, apparently, had history. Of what, she wasn’t certain. From the road, it looked like something torn from the pages of a horror novel.

“This is where we’re staying?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise and disappointment.

“You’re welcome to go elsewhere, if you’d like. Personally, I prefer a room with some character.”

She choked back an outright laugh. “It’s certainly got character. As a matter of fact, Freddie Kruger comes to mind.”

He shot her a disapproving frown before taking his bags from the driver and starting up the front walkway. Teri had no choice but to follow. They’d barely made it to the porch when the huge oak door opened. A short, frail-looking woman stood in the entryway.

“Welcome back, Joshua,” the woman greeted.

“Thank you, Martha. It’s good to be here.” Glancing back to where Teri stood, he said, “This is Miss Hunter. She’s with me.”

“Oh,” the woman said simply. “Welcome, Miss Hunter. We trust your stay here at Collingwood will be enjoyable.”

Teri smiled faintly, but couldn’t muster up a ‘thank you’ to save her soul.

“One room or two, Joshua?”

In unison, they both answered, “Two.”

Martha responded with a minute bob of her graying head and then motioned toward the parlor with a sweep of her hand. “We were just about to have tea if you’d care to join us.”

“If you don’t mind,” Dr. Cain began, “we’d like to get situated in our rooms. We’ve got an event at the museum tonight and I, for one, would like a bit of down time to work on my lecture.”

“You’re in your usual room. I can give Miss Hunter the room next to yours, if you’d like.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps she would be more comfortable across the hall with the view of the garden.”

“As you wish, Joshua.”

Teri followed closely behind as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She was about to turn toward the long hallway when she realized they were climbing yet another flight. What she wouldn’t give, she realized, for an elevator or even a bellman. Rather than voice her wishes, she hiked her carry-on higher up on her shoulder and tugged on the handle of her suitcase until the wheels gained purchase on the worn carpet. The next landing looked to be at least a half-mile away.

When they reached the third floor, Martha stopped outside the first room off the staircase and opened the door. “This is your room, Miss Hunter.”

Dr. Cain, Teri realized, had already crossed the hallway and opened the door to the room just opposite hers. Teri took a short step forward. “Thank you.”

“Bathroom is down the hall,” Martha told her, the woman’s simple statement stopping Teri dead in her tracks.

“Down the hall?” she asked. “You mean there’s no bathroom in my suite?”

Martha chuckled heartily, her wrinkled cheeks jiggling and sagging like warm Jell-O. “Child, there’s no suite in your suite, it’s just a room. And, everyone shares the facilities.” Nodding toward the end of the long hallway, she added, “The key hangs outside the door. You take it in with you, lock the door from the inside and try not to take longer than fifteen minutes.”

Author’s Fun Fact:  The idea for Eye of the Pharaoh came about following a trip to the Field Museum in Chicago. For the longest time afterward, I couldn’t get the images of ancient Egypt out of my head. Then, out of the blue, I received a gift from a relative who had passed…a gorgeous necklace fashioned like an Egyptian collar. The late relative had no way of knowing about my recent fascination with Egypt so I took it as a sign. There was obviously a story inside me begging to come out.

Nancy Fraser

Like most authors, Nancy Fraser began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

Published in multiple genres, Nancy currently writes for four publishers. She has published twenty-two books in both full-length and novella format. Nancy will release her 25th book in early 2017. She is currently working on her next Rock and Roll novella and two other equally exciting projects.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.





Twitter   @nfraserauthor


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Character Interview—Mission to New Earth by Diane Burton

Meet Sara Grenard, the main character and narrator of Diane Burton’s Mission to New Earth.

How about you introduce yourself by providing the basics?

My name is Sara Grenard. I’m commander of the mission to Serenity. That’s the name my team gave to the Goldilocks planet that might be just right for humans. We’ll explore, build a settlement, and start families.

Family members?

None. A few distant cousins, I guess. I have no sibs, and my parents were killed in an auto accident 10 years ago. That made it easier to leave everything behind to go on a one-way trip to a new planet. Although I have no blood family, my team is my family. The six of us have bonded better than relatives.

Are you athletic?

You bet. I can’t sit still. That’s why teaching wasn’t my best choice of occupations.

Why didn’t you continue teaching?

A student who was much bigger attacked me. My principal didn’t support me, so I filed a police report. That didn’t go over well. I figured it was a losing battle. When I saw that the United Earth Space Agency was looking for volunteers to go on a one-way trip to new planets, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. To be a pioneer.

What’s your favorite participation sport?

Surfing and swimming. Running and taekwondo. The latter I learned so I could defend myself. No one will ever attack me again and get away with it.

What do you like most about being an astronaut?

The challenge. Our training has been demanding. Mentally, physically, emotionally. We’re going to make sure humankind has a safe place if an evacuation is necessary. From all the crises on Earth, that may be necessary sooner than we think.

Mission to New Earth -sept 14


Would you go on a one-way trip to explore a new planet? Would you do it to save humankind?

Earth’s overpopulation and dwindling resources force the United Earth Space Agency to expedite exploration of new planets for a possible new home. When new crises ensue—a giant tsunami and the threat of nuclear winter—the timeline changes. Eight years of training crammed into four. Sara Grenard and her team prepare for launch, but are they ready for the one-way trip? Will the Goldilocks planet prove just right for Earth’s inhabitants? Before time runs out.


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From the pictures sent back by the probe of the Earth-like planet we named Serenity, our new home would look as natural as Earth itself. I wanted so badly to believe the reports that the surface would have breathable air, that we would be able to walk outside without our enviro suits, that we could live there as we lived on Earth. After two years in an enclosed environment, I was going a little stir-crazy. More than a little. Being an outdoor girl, cabin fever had hit me a lot sooner than the others. Rather, I used to be an outdoor girl.

So how did a California beach girl like me end up on Saturn’s moon, preparing to make history? It was a long story, best reserved for a starlit night in front of a campfire overlooking the dark waters of the sea, and accompanied by a cool glass of wine. With Marsh, of course. Even he didn’t know my whole story. Just like I didn’t know his.

The short version: I volunteered. Slightly longer version: my parents died in a car accident; teaching bratty kids sucked, especially when a kid eight inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier attacked me, and the principal didn’t support me. Believe me, I was ready for a change.

And what a change.

I never imagined I’d be selected. Not when over fifty thousand applied within ten hours. Or so I heard. Out of five hundred thousand applicants, the eighteen of us became the chosen teams. Oh, not as easy as that. The tests they put us through—physical, psychological, intellectual—still boggled my mind.

And I used to think teaching high school kids with more money than smarts was a challenge. Nothing prepared me for the adventure of a lifetime.

Being a pioneer.

Diane Burton

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. Besides the science fiction romance Switched and Outer Rim series, she is the author of One Red Shoe, a romantic suspense, and the Alex O’Hara PI mystery series. She is also a contributor to two anthologies: Portals, Volume 2 and How I Met My Husband. Diane and her husband live in West Michigan. They have two children and three grandchildren.

For more info and excerpts from her books, visit Diane’s website:




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