For those of you who don’t know, authors, for the most part, are an insecure lot. We spend months and months researching and writing, then checking and editing, finally releasing it to the public and waiting to be told how they feel about what we’ve worked so hard to create.
I just got my first written review. A 5-star! I was thrilled. She said I could post it, so I am–grinning like the Cheshire Cat!
Now that you know, please, if you enjoy a book, leave a review for the author. It helps others choose good books and it validates the author’s hard work.
It’s Kentucky Derby Day. I am busy trying to let people know about Glynda’s Dare, my novel about a woman who, having lost everything to a hurricane and an act of war, sets off to try to start life anew.
Now, the story behind the story. After Katrina took all we had, we tried to make a go of it in Mississippi, living with friends, then renting while we built a new home, then rebuilding the old one. But times were hard and jobs dried up, so we had to look elsewhere. My husband found work in Georgia and, since I had family there, we decided to give it a shot. On weekends, I would drive up from the Gulf Coast to look around while he lived in our old RV at a campground.
Like when we were young, we would just pile in the truck and start driving. Well, in Georgia, it’s not quite as simple as it is in other states. Roads were built around farms, pastures, and fields, and meander all over the place–with the explorer ending up far from where they had started in an area totally unknown.
That’s how we found the horse farm. It was gorgeous, with what seemed like miles of fenced pastures filled with gorgeous horses. We kept following the fence-line and came upon a small road. Venturing down that we eventually came to a huge circle, surrounded by buildings. An old man came out, smiling and wiping his hands on a rag.
“Lost?” he said, leaning on my rolled down window.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I was entranced by the horses and had my husband following the fence line. I’m sorry if we’re trespassing.”
“No problem. You’ve managed to land in the working part of the farm.” He pointed to a distant hill, upon which stood a grand house, surrounded by trees. “That’s the main house. We don’t get many visitors out this way.” He laughed but watched me looking past him to a mare and her foal.
He grabbed the handle of my door and pulled it open. “Come on. Since you’re here and I need a break, I’ll give you a quick tour.” I guess he saw my eyes twinkle because he threw back his head and laughed. “I haven’t seen anyone this excited since I arrived twenty some years ago.”
I walked over to the fence and, once the man joined us, the mare came over with her young. Such a pretty foal. She even let me stroke his head after I let her put her head over the fence and snort softly in my face while I laughed.
“You’re good with them–not afraid,” the man said.
“No sir. But mine was an Indian Pony and not nearly as big.”
“A horse is a horse, pretty much the same. except a stallion,” he corrected.
“I know. Dad wouldn’t let me have the stallion I wanted,” I commented.
He took us around. I’ve never seen such housing for any animal. Heck, it out-shined any housing I’d ever lived in. The tack house stood at the end and was immaculate, filled with polished leather. He pointed out some smaller houses in the back, where he and some others lived, quite nicely, I might add. I swear, if I hadn’t been old and married, I’d have begged for a job.
When we were done, he pointed us back toward a more main road and made me promise not to spread the word. They liked their privacy.
I can’t say we didn’t try to find our way back later on because we did. Never could find it. I have no idea what county we were in or how we go there. I swore I saw part of it from the interstate once, but when we got off and tied to find it, we got lost. I suppose they really do like their privacy.
But, on one of those trips we did find our cottage in the woods, right across the street from a tiny horse farm. It wasn’t long after that I began writing Glynda’s Dare. I think you’ll enjoy it even more now that you know the history, whether it’s Derby Day or not.
Starting over, Glynda figures a new place and a new life are just the thing. Except, her past is coming back to haunt her. Her only salvation may come from the very man she’s trying to avoid and a quaint southern town that is more than it seems.
Finally!!!! Descendant Rising is available in PRINT and DIGITAL on Amazon.
I’m back to Ruthorford, where an injured ex-Marine is about to get a lot more than an advanced prosthesis.
The lone survivor of a horrific helicopter accident, Owen Zachery Henderson, even with a recently amputated arm, is determined to accompany the body of one of his Marine brothers home to Ruthorford and to the grieving widow.
Sandra Carter Beauchard has been trying to face the fact that Ethan is gone. When Ozzy shows up, she’s surprised to see the wounded ex-Marine. They’d met before when he’d stayed at the Abbott Bed & Breakfast, having come to protect his boss and best friend from a murder attempt. Not only is she surprised to learn that Ozzy was the lone survivor of the helicopter crash, but that he knew her husband better than just about anyone, including her.
When Ozzy collapses, he is rushed to Ruthorford’s clinic. After an exam, the doctor decides Ozzy would be a great candidate for an experimental operation. Little does Ozzy know he’s about to get a lot more than an advanced prosthesis.
Soon, it’s discovered that there are secrets Ethan kept from everyone, hoping to take them to his grave. If those secrets begin resurrecting themselves, the results could change lives, and possibly Ruthorford, forever.
Suddenly, Sandra and Ozzy find they need one another. Her, to understand what happened to her husband and for him to understand more about himself. And, together, maybe they can stop the impending danger before it disrupts not only Ruthorford but the entire nation.
It is the time of balance and renewal. The earth has rested. Now it is time for life to burst forth and flourish. May the world share in this balance. May all living things thrive. May there be harmony among all and peace throughout the world.
I am an Indie Author. By choice. I started out with a publisher and left. A couple of my first books are still with a boutique press and I keep them there because they are still available in all the places I want them to be. When CreateSpace was bought out, luckily, those books were grandfathered and remain available for independent bookstores.
I thought the others would follow suit, being with the company that bought CreateSpace. They did not. I learned I have entered a whole new ball game. And, yes, I’m slow on the uptake. I work full time because of expenses we need to meet. My husband has had 3 cancers and major heart surgery. He’s going well, by the way. But it is imperative that I have a good, steady income. We can no longer be the adventuresome kids taking risks like we once were.
Yes, I have been approached by a few publishers (yay, that means my stories are good). But, when I considered the ramifications of what was needed, I felt I had to decline. My stories would change to match their market. Each novel would take longer to hit the market. And, I would be under constant deadlines to produce as many books as they wanted within a short time frame. Given our circumstances, I just couldn’t.
So, now I’m finding out the limitations placed on Indie authors. Publishers will limit where you can publish, if you use their “free” ISBN’s. I just purchased a block of ISBN numbers. They aren’t cheap. But, they afford the author a bit of freedom. Still, it’s a mess. The companies are vying, trying to kill off each other. Mergers are going on. Formatting is different for each one. Even the major publishers are having printing issues. I just purchased a book at a store, written by a favorite author, published by a huge press, and found horrible printing issues–pages out of order. So, it’s not just small and Indie that are suffering. But, trying to keep up with everything has become daunting.
Now, I have heard where “people”–not legit authors–are being allowed to publish a few pages as books or blank books and further ruining an Indie author’s options. Authors work hard to bring stories to the public. If it were figured in a per hour wage, we’d make next to nothing. Besides being a good story teller, we need to be a grammatician, editor, graphic artist, formatter, marketer, and public speaker. That doesn’t include the business acumen needed to run a business.
I finished my latest novel late last year. My editor loves it. I finalized the design for the cover. It’s wonderful. Then my husband was diagnosed with cancer again and had to go through radiation treatments. My novel took the back seat. When I got to where I could publish, I found that things had changed. I’ve spent months trying to figure out the best way to get my books to the largest number of readers. I have bought those expensive ISBN’s. I am looking at my options, because, damn it, I refuse to give up. So, for all of you patiently waiting, thank you for that. Thank you for letting me know you care. I haven’t given up.
I’ll tell you what, I am not sorry to see 2021 go, even if it does make me another year older. It was exhausting. I actually wrote my eighth novel, but everything turned on its head and I finally caved and decided to wait and publish it in early 2022. My editors love it and think you will, too.
My husband’s radiation ended in December but we have stayed very close to home with him recovering and Covid cases rising. He’s doing well. My sister and BIL did share Thanksgiving and my birthday (yesterday) with us, but my children couldn’t visit this year.
My wishes are for all to have a healthy, happy, and prosperous 2022. Happy New Year!
Morgan isn’t who she thinks she is. She’s about to find out she’s much more than she ever dreamed. Coming to Ruthorford to find out will put her on a course over which she has no control.
Ruthorford – A town of promises; a town of secrets; a town like no other–where science and magic merge. Revered by neighboring tribes for hundreds of years, the exquisite area was settled by the few special families chosen by a tribal counsel. Those families and their descendants were and are protected and helped by the original Native Americans and their descendants, sharing a bond and a secret that forms their legacy.
Visit Ruthorford and explore their legacy, their lives, and their magic. Perfect for any season.