Rescued by Larynn Ford

Today's talented author is Larynn Ford, a paranormal romance author with Soul Mate Publishing. Her new novel, Rescued, hit Amazon last week and is steadily making its way toward becoming a bestseller! Here's Larynn to tell us a little bit more about her book.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Fiercely independent and determined to be taken seriously in a man’s world, PI Rose Baxter will do whatever it takes to find the kids who are disappearing from the streets and bring them home safe, even teaming up with PI Marty Brown, a man hot enough to burn whatever part of her gets too close – her fingers, her sheets, her life, and her other nature’s whiskers.

But her other nature knows whiskers grow back and will accept nothing less than this man as her mate for life, a plan Marty’s all in on. Sparks fly when she refuses to be the little woman. Besides, those kids need her and their time’s running out. But, thrown together 24/7 can she fight it?


Rescued sounds like a great story. I'm a huge fan of stories that include private investigators. 

Larynn sent us a short excerpt for our reading pleasure. And given the way my day went yesterday, I could use a bit of pleasure today. 

EXCERPT:

The mattress moaned slightly in response to an unseen and unexpected movement. Her eyes snapped open and focused on the room, moving up, down, side-to-side. She didn’t recognize a single thing in her line of view. A rush of air flooded her lungs in a panicked gasp. She wasn’t where she should be.

In her own bed.

Alone.

Damn. Where am I and how did I end up here? Double damn.

Her last memory? The bar. Jed’s Place. She’d received a tip from her source that her suspect had slithered inside. Arriving a few minutes later, she kept an eye on him and his cohorts for a couple of hours. Posing as a customer, she shot a couple of games of eight ball with some of the regulars.

Her eyes narrowed. Her head pounded as she recalled the next events.

Nothing stood out until . . . the asshole from the pool table sidled up way too close behind her and tried to score points by offering shooting tips. She stretched up on her tiptoes to line up the winning shot. His groin pressed tight against her bottom. His hands slid down her arms to her wrists as he whispered, “Let me give you a hand there, little lady.”

Without flinching, she purred, “I’m not little, I’m nobody’s lady, and I don’t need your help.” She slammed the butt end of the cue stick into his ribs, and with the same smooth motion came back to make a perfect shot and win her third game of the night. She straightened from the table with a satisfied grin.

Oooh. Rose is my type of gal! You've got great details here, enough for me to totally picture the scene. I love her response to the guy. Great line of dialogue. 

To purchase this title, click here.

So tell me more about the author. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Larynn Ford is intrigued by the paranormal. She’s a day dreamer and a romantic. She loves to let her mind wander always searching for a happily ever after ending to her dreams.

At home in East Central Alabama, she worked as a cook and cashier before becoming a wife and mother. Earned a degree in Elementary Education, taught school, and worked in customer service. All the while her day dreams stacked up in the archives of her mind waiting for, well…

She put some of those ideas on paper and began writing in 2009. Larynn’s first effort involves the reuniting of two lost loves through a series of dreams involving the magical land of the Fae. It’s not all fun and games though since danger lurks in the shadows and must be dealt with.

In 2010, she joined Romance Writers of America and chose the Southern Magic Chapter in Birmingham, Alabama as her local support group.

She’s going to keep on dreaming and searching for those happy endings.

BOOKS BY LARYNN FORD:
IN MY WILDEST DREAMS
Available on Amazon

CHRISTMAS BLESSINGS, a short story in "All I Want For Christmas Is A Soul Mate"
Available on Amazon

RESCUED
Available on Amazon

DREAMS DO COME TRUE
Coming soon

CONNECT WITH LARYNN FORD:

Website/Blog: http://larynnford.com/
Twitter: @LarynnFord
Face Book: https://www.facebook.com/larynnfordauthor
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Larynn-Ford/e/B00CELS1V8/

Thank you so much, Larynn, for letting me help spread the word about your newest release.  Only a week old, and you've already got a 5 star review! I wish you the best of luck on your sales. 

If you're as intrigued as I am, purchasing this title won't make much of a dent in your bank account. Only $2.99. That's less than the cost of one cup of my favorite coffee drink at Starbucks.  To purchase this title, click here.

Confederado do Norte by Linda Pennell

If you love historical fiction, then I've got a treat for you. Author Linda Bennett Pennell, another one of my fabulous Soul Mate sisters, has joined me today to celebrate the release of her new book, Confederado do Norte. Before we begin, take a moment to feast your eyes on Linda's gorgeous book cover below. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to read that book based on the cover alone?! 

But seriously, without further adieu, here's Linda to tell us about her book. 

Available on Amazon.com

About the Book:

Set during the aftermath of the American Civil War, Confederado do Norte tells the story of Mary Catherine MacDonald Dias Oliveira Atwell, a child torn from her war devastated home in Georgia and thrust into the primitive Brazilian interior where the young woman she becomes must learn to recreate herself in order to survive.

October, 1866.

Mary Catherine is devastated when her family emigrates from Georgia to Brazil because her father and maternal uncle refuse to accept the terms of Reconstruction following the Confederacy’s defeat. Shortly after arrival in their new country, she is orphaned, leaving her in Uncle Nathan’s care. He hates Mary Catherine, blaming her for his sister’s death. She despises him because she believes Nathan murdered her father. When Mary Catherine discovers Nathan’s plan to be rid of her as well, she flees into the mountain wilderness filled with jaguars and equally dangerous men. Finding refuge among kind peasants, she grows into a beauty, ultimately marrying the scion of a wealthy Portuguese family. Happiness and security seem assured until civil unrest brings armed marauders who have an inexplicable connection to Mary Catherine. Recreating herself has protected Mary Catherine in the past, but this new crisis will demand all of the courage, intelligence, and creativity she possesses simply to survive.



I love anything that deals with this particular time period. What inspired you to write this book? 
Very little has been written about the real Confederados who left the defeated former Confederate states in search of a place where they could remake life as they had known it before the war. There are three historical monographs and a couple of websites, so imagine my surprise when I read a magazine article about their descendants who live in and around Americana, Brazil. On festival days, these folks with Anglo surnames and Portuguese first names can be seen wearing Confederate gray uniforms, antebellum ball gowns, and displaying the Stars and Bars. They even hold balls like their ancestors once did. It's like Gone with the Wind set in Brazil. While I do not agree with their ancestors' choices before or after the Civil War, I found their story fascinating and it got my imagination churning. Confederado do Norte (Confederate from the North) is the result.

I'm already sold on this book. In case you aren't convinced quite as easily as I am, how about an little excerpt to sway you? 

Chapter 1

I dreamt the dream again last night. In the small hours, I awoke in a tumble of bedclothes and bathed in perspiration despite the howling snowstorm blanketing the city. I rearranged quilts and plumped pillows, but sleep remained elusive. My mind refused to be quiet.

As often happens after such a night, I felt unable to rise at my usual hour and remained abed long after the maids cleared breakfast from the morning room. My daughter-in-law, bless her heart, meant well. I told her it was ridiculous to bring the doctor out on such a frigid day, but apparently the very old, like the very young, are not to be trusted in matters of judgment. After the doctor listened to my chest, a studied sympathy filled his eyes and he gently suggested that perhaps I should get my affairs in order. No doubt he wondered at my smile for he couldn’t have known I have no affairs other than my memories and the emotions they engender.

Unlike most elderly persons, I don’t revel in slogging through the past. It isn’t wrapped in pretty ribbons or surrounded by a golden aura. Instead, its voices haunt my dreams, demanding and accusatory. Until recently, I’ve resisted their intrusion into my waking life, but I now believe the past can no longer remain buried in nocturnal visions. It must be brought out into the light of day. From its earliest moments onward, the past’s substance must be gouged out, pulled apart, and examined bit by bit until its truth is exposed. While total objectivity may not be possible, I have concluded that committing the past to paper is my best hope for sorting facts from imaginings. Perhaps then I will achieve the peace that has so long hidden its face from me.

You see, when I was quite young—only a girl really—I killed four people. Two were dearly beloved, one was a hated enemy, and the last was a dangerous criminal.

Chapter 2

My story begins at the end of a terrible war, one that destroyed many lives and much property. But for that war and a handful of newspaper editorials and advertisements, my life would have turned out quite differently. Sometimes it seems no time at all has passed since I was a nine-year-old child standing on the deck of a ship watching home disappear over the horizon.

Warm Gulf breezes tugged at the brim of my bonnet, setting its ribbons dancing. Leaning over the Alyssa Jane’s railing, I stared back in the direction of Mobile Bay and pretended I could see the dock where my beloved Bess stood, probably still waving. Mama, her pretty features marred by a furrowed brow and down turned mouth, paced beside me.

“Mary Catherine MacDonald! Get down before you fall overboard. All we need right now is another crisis. And stop wiping your nose on your sleeve.”

Mama didn’t seem to understand anything anymore. Before we left home, she was calm and kind. Afterward, she snapped at the least little thing. I threw her a hateful glance, but she had already turned away, so I stubbornly leaned a little farther out over the railing. The wake trailing behind the Alyssa Jane looked like a blue-green path lined on either side by mounds of ginned cotton, a path pushing me away from the only life I had ever known. Only my sniveling broke the silence of that October morning.

A swish of crinolines brought Mama beside me. She grabbed my arm and whispered through clenched teeth, “Mary C., I told you to get off that railing. Go below and stay there until you can do as you’re told!”

I stomped across the deck, pausing once beside the mainmast to scowl over my shoulder. It was all so unfair. I hadn’t asked to be dragged along on this blasted trip. I wanted Bess. I wanted to go home, no matter how damaged it was, no matter who ran the stupid government. I wanted to be anywhere but here. But Mama turned away from me. She wasn’t even going to watch to see that I did what she said. Her indifference was like a slap in the face.

As I jumped through the open hatch leading below deck, the pungent odor of pine tar mixed with burning kerosene assailed my senses. I hated the smell. Besides making me slightly queasy, it reminded me of how final my losses were. Nothing at home smelled like the interior of that old tub. I hit the steps at a near run with plans to fling myself into my hammock and stay there forever. It would serve them right if I just upped and died. I bowled along toward the sleeping area blinded by tears and the sudden gloom of the narrow passageway.

Without warning, I crashed headlong into a pair of wool-encased legs. The trousers’ owner and I struggled momentarily in an awkward dance. With a standoff in the making, he harrumphed once, picked me up by my arms, deposited me on the other side of him, and stepped toward the hatch.

Tears forgotten, I tugged on his retreating coattails, ready to let him see my displeasure. Hooded eyes with ink black irises stared down in return. He didn’t look particularly angry, but authority hung about him like a mantle.

I swallowed, choked back what I intended to say, and instead muttered, “I’m sorry for running into you.”

He gazed at me for a moment and then simply nodded before turning away. The Reverend Jonas Williams might be a man of God, but his unsmiling countenance raised the hair at the nape of my neck as though someone stepped on my grave. Mama often fussed that Bess planted too many of her superstitions in my fertile imagination. I was now old enough to understand that some of what Mama said was true. But the Reverend Brother Williams still affected me like a haint. A slight shudder slithered down my spine, as though my body was trying to rid itself of his effect. I turned and fled down the hallway toward our sleeping quarters. Many months later, I would come to see this encounter as an omen, a foreshadowing of all that came afterward.

I think I'm in love. Even in this short snippet, the writing is fantastic. The word choices alone are simply divine, swoon-worthy for a teacher like me. 

And just remember . . . purchasing an ebook on Amazon only takes the click of one button, then POOF! it appears on your ereader seconds later.  

See? I just did it! (just don't tell my husband)

About Linda Pennell:

I have been in love with the past for as long as I can remember. Anything with a history, whether shabby or majestic, recent or ancient, instantly draws me in. I suppose it comes from being part of a large extended family that spanned several generations. Long summer afternoons on my grandmother's porch or winter evenings gathered around her fireplace were filled with stories both entertaining and poignant. Of course being set in the South, those stories were also peopled by some very interesting characters, some of whom have found their way into my work.

As for my venture in writing, it has allowed me to reinvent myself. We humans are truly multifaceted creatures, but unfortunately we tend to sort and categorize each other into neat, easily understood packages that rarely reveal the whole person. Perhaps you, too, want to step out of the box in which you find yourself. I encourage you to look at the possibilities and imagine. Be filled with childlike wonder in your mental wanderings. Envision what might be, not simply what is. Let us never forget, all good fiction begins when someone says to her or himself, "Let's pretend."

I reside in the Houston area with one sweet husband and one German Shorthaired Pointer who is quite certain she’s a little girl.

Favorite quote regarding my professional passion: "History is filled with the sound of silken slippers going downstairs and wooden shoes coming up." Voltaire

Connect with Linda:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLindaBennettPennell
Website: http://www.lindapennell.com/
Twitter: @LindaPennell

Other Books by Linda:

Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel

Thank you so much, Linda, for allowing me to join in your celebration. Your book looks fantastic. Best of luck to you, and may your sales be many. 

Romance Weekly: #LoveWriteChat

It's my favorite time of the week! Time for the Romance Weekly #LoveWriteChat, where our merry band of Romance writers tell you all their writing craft secrets! If you found me by way of Gemma Brocato, welcome! This week's questions come from  Jo Richardson. 


How often do you write?
I write as often as I can. At any given time, I may have 2-3 different projects in varying states of disarray to draft or revise, plus blog posts to work on. During the summer, when I'm off from work, I try to spend at least a couple hours writing each day. Some days, I hole up in my bedroom and work all day while my two kids fend for themselves. Other days, I wind up playing referee, chauffeur, cook, housekeeper, or photographer. You know . . . begin a wife and a mom. 

During the school year, my "butt in the chair, fingers on the keyboard" writing time is seriously limited. Being a teacher often means that my day job takes over my entire life. I steal what time I can to write, usually nights and weekends, but it's definitely not easy.


Do you think it’s important to your craft to write as much as you can, and as often as you can?
Absolutely. You have to write or you're not a writer. There's just no way around it. BUT I don't think writing as much as possible, or even writing every single day, is enough to turn someone into a great writer. Writing involves so much more than that. You have to hone your inner editor, too. 

I saw this quote and picture recently on FB and it perfectly sums up my philosophy as a 5th grade teacher. 

William Faulkner by Vladymyr Lukash. C.C. by 3.0

When we read in my classroom, we are constantly analyzing how the author did what they did. How did they begin their story? How did they end each scene? How did they indicate a passing of time? You get the point. We analyze and discuss our findings, label each method, and then practice it for ourselves. After that, we critique, reflect, and revise. Then it begins all over again. 

Even when I'm not writing per se, I'm still involved in some part of the writing process, whether it's plotting, reading a mentor text, giving a critique, revising a piece, or teaching my class about writing.   


What is your opinion on the saying “if you don’t write every day, you’re not a writer"?
For some of us, it's just not possible. My job and my family need my time, too.That doesn't make me less of a writer. It makes me human. It just means I have to be smarter with the time that I do have. I need to learn to turn off the internet so I don't hear the siren's call of FB and Twitter. I need to set my DVR to record my favorite shows. When I need a break from writing, that's when I can binge on all my TV shows and get caught up! 


Can't wait until next week's chat? Then check out of Romance Writer's Weekly Facebook page.     Our authors are ready to chat with you right now and will give you the inside scoop on their latest contest wins, upcoming books, and sales. Oh, and before you go, be a doll and enter our Romance Weekly Giveaway. 

Now, if y'all don't mind, I left my muse tied to a chair where I intend to keep her for the next few hours while I write. Next up on the love chat tour . . . Carrie Elks, author of Halfway Hidden and Fix You.