Excerpt from Terror on Sunshine Boulevard: a Scary Read for Halloween

Terror on Sunshine Boulevard by J.Q. Rose
Paranormal mystery
Click here to find more mysteries by J.Q. Rose released by Books We Love Publishing

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Hello and welcome to the BWL Publishing Insiders Blog.  I'm sharing a short excerpt from my "terrifying" novel that is perfect for a scary Halloween read, Terror on Sunshine Boulevard.

A reader told me she discovered she shouldn't have read Terror on Sunshine Boulevard before bed. She was too scared to turn off the lights and go to sleep!

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Back of the Book: Terror on Sunshine Boulevard by J.Q. Rose

Rescuing a naked woman lying in a geranium bed or investigating mysterious murders are not the usual calls for first responder Jim Hart. He expects slip and fall accidents or low blood pressure emergencies in his retirement community of Citrus Ridge Senior Community and Golf Resort. The ghastly crime scenes turn the winter time fun into a terrifying season of death and mystery when the authorities cannot track down the predator responsible.

Jim and his wife Gloria could escape the horror and grief by returning to their northern home, but concern for their friends and residents keep them in Florida. With the entire community in a dither over the deaths, the Harts participate in the normal winter activities of golfing, dancing, and pool parties with their friends to distract them from the sadness and loss.

Can Jim and Gloria work with the authorities to discover who or what is killing the seniors on Sunshine Boulevard and stop the increasing body count?

                                         

Excerpt: Terror on Sunshine Boulevard by J.Q. Rose, Chapter 8
Warning: This is the chills part of the blog post, not the giggles.

Turning on the warm water in the bathtub, she placed her hand under the faucet to gauge the temperature. When it was just right, she turned the shower on at full force, ready to step in for a relaxing indulgence with the warm water raining over her body.  Before Pamela could step in, she heard Noel’s moan from the bedroom. Terror clutched her throat. Oh, Noel, please don’t have a heart attack now! She yanked open the bathroom door and stood frozen in the doorway. The moonlight through the window added shimmer to the yellow stripes crawling across Noel’s naked body. When a blazing yellow light filled the bedroom, she slammed the bathroom door shut. The animal instinct to escape kicked in. Clambering onto the toilet and stepping onto the granite counter, she yanked the screen off the bathroom window and dove headfirst into the cool night air. She landed face down on top of the flowers in the wood-chipped flower bed below. Pamela’s screams pierced the night as she lay naked among the geraniums....to be continued.  

Do you enjoy being scared? Haunted houses? Horror movies? Scary books?
Please leave a comment below and let us know.

Happy Halloween!!

Click here to connect with J.Q. Rose online.

You are invited to return to the Insiders Blog on Thursday, October 22. 

On October 22,I will be featured as the author of the month and will have the opportunity to talk about how my life experience has influenced my writing.

Click here to join me on Thursday. Thank you.

Another Year Plus Thoughts on Staying Home

Another Year Plus a bit of Thoughts on Staying Home

 

This is my latest release and I will say there were several times during the writing when I felt tears rising. Someone read a blurb of the story and thought it might be a second chance at love. It is and it isn’t.  For me, it was a lot more with the heroine finding a place to belong and the hero being able to love for the second time, or maybe more. This also brings me to thehalfway point in a series I hope someday to finish.

Now about the opening title. Today marks the start of a new year for me. Now *$ of those eyars and it’s been an interesting year. Several books published. So so sales. My husband’s suffering ended and the state of new York after six months managed to sent me the pension. Children and grandchildren are flourishing and none have developed the virus. So the year has been filled with ups and downs. Will be interesting to see what the next year brings.

Now for a bit from my latest release.

A tall man she recognized brushed past her. “Mr. Quinn, is something wrong?”

“Where’s Rob?”

“In his office. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Her employer’s attorney’s green eyes flashed. Anger or fear? His hair looked as if someone had run fingers through the thick dark hair.

“Don’t bother.” He strode toward the bedroom wing.

Janine watched him rush away. Was there trouble at the movie studio?

Tammy rubbed her face on Janine’s shoulder. She patted the child’s back. “To bed.” She entered the hall.

She heard Nate shouting. Janine sighed. Though from the first time she’d seen Nate Quinn, she’d felt an attraction but she knew there was no chance for any relationship. He still grieved for his wife who had died a year ago. An impossible dream. There were too many tangled threads to unravel.

Tammy popped her thumb into her mouth. “Bear.” Janine entered the bedroom wing.

Rob’s office door stood open. Nate Quinn’s near shouts flowed into the hall. “What am I going to do? I can’t lose him to that damned disease.”

Though she shouldn’t remain and eavesdrop, Janine froze in place. Curiosity gripped like an iron glove. Did he mean his eight year old son was ill?

Her arms tightened around Tammy. She should leave but she had to know what made him sound angry and defeated.

“He’s been tired lately so two days ago, I took him to see Andi. She ran some tests and called me around noon, wanted Davey admitted to the hospital. She asked Dr. Chou to see him.”

“Did you?” Rob asked.

“Yah. I just left him there and fled in a panic. I can’t endure anything going wrong.”

Janine edged along the all and stared at the open door. Nate Quinn looked ready to collapse or cry.

“Dr. Chou is excellent,” Rob said.

“That’s what Andi said.”

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Leukemia.”

Those words brought a rush of tears to Janine’s eyes. Tammy wiggled. Before the little girl cried, Janine loosened her hold and stepped into the child’s bedroom. Janine’s knees buckled. She drew deep breaths to calm her raging thoughts. She bit her lip and focused on her charge.

“Nap time.”

Tammy popped her thumb into her mouth “’Kay.”

Honoring Fathers on Father's Day by J.Q.Rose

Deadly Undertaking by J.Q. Rose

Cozy mystery

A handsome detective, a shadow man, 

and a murder victim kill Lauren’s plan for a simple life.
Click here to find more mysteries by J.Q. Rose at BWL Publishing

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Hello and welcome to the BWL Publishing Authors Insider Blog!

My Dad
oxoxoxox

This Sunday, in the US, we honor fathers during Father's Day. I would like to take this opportunity to honor my father, Gordon.

My dad is up in Heaven tapping the piano keys playing for the angel choir or jazz band. He was a talented musician as well as a very special person, not only to me and my brothers but also to our community. He was a funeral director.

Yes, I am a funeral director's daughter, hence the premise of my romantic suspense novel, Deadly Undertaking. I used my life experiences in writing the novel. Some of the quirky characters in the story actually are people I knew!!

I am now writing a memoir and that demands that my dad is in the story. I am including an excerpt about my father in this post from the book, Arranging a Dream, to be released in January 2021.

Arranging a Dream by J.Q. Rose, Excerpt from Chapter 13

The best way to keep my dad’s memory alive and to honor him is to remember all he had instilled in me while growing up and to practice those lessons. He always pointed out the beautiful things surrounding us in nature like a wide-open prairie sunset, the glitter of the sun on a spider web, and the way the leaves on the trees flipped over before a storm. He never gossiped about anyone or badmouthed a person. He never swore, well, except the time when my brother’s class ring was not correct and the shopkeeper would not do anything to make it right.

A sense of mischief popped out in his odd sense of humor. He’d go for coffee at Turner’s, the local greasy spoon located on Route 66, where they called him Digger. He carried a measuring tape in his pocket to measure up anyone who gave him a hard time, being sure he would order the right sized casket for the jokester. 

He cared about people and appreciated the simple things in life. I wanted to be just like him as a businessperson, friend and parent. But most of all, I wanted to teach our baby daughter, Sara, the same lessons by example.

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Arranging a Dream: A Memoir
by J.Q. Rose

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HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!

J.Q. Rose, author

Click here to visit J.Q. Rose online.

Excerpt from Ursula, Sisters of Prophecy, Book 1 by Jude Pittman and Gail Roughton

Ursula, Sisters of Prophecy, Book 1

By Jude Pittman and  Gail Roughton

What’s a girl to do? Beautiful young artist Katherine Shipton has a painting that talks, an ancestor who won’t stay in her own century, and a former boyfriend with a serious ax to grind against her new fiancé. She already has a full plate, but when said ancestor sends her tripping back and forth between the 15th and 21st century without benefit of psychedelic drugs, the poor girl begins to doubt her own sanity. Then her best friend, a high fashion model with more than her own share of psychic energy, and her troubleshooting aunt show up on her doorstep in response to a psychic SOS Katherine swears she didn’t send. Life couldn't get more complicated. At least, that's what she thinks until her oilman fiancé disappears in the Gulf of Mexico and a DEA agent knocks on her door.
"A delightful read with twists and turns, quirky characters, a bit of darkness and some snappy dialogue. The authors maneuver between the 16th and 21st centuries with ease, adding authenticity through well researched historical data. While the characters from the two eras have their own stories, their lives are interlocked like the pieces of a puzzle. Putting those pieces together is much of the fun. Jude Pittman and Gail Roughton have successfully blended their styles into a rollicking good read . . . the first in a series. The closure at the end of Book 1 is much appreciated, as well as the tantalizing teasers which left me anxiously awaiting Irene's story in Book 2. I can easily recommend Sisters of Prophecy - Ursula, and after reading it, I'm sure you will, too." ~ 4 Stars, Deborah Sanders

"I've got to say that there is some dialog between a savvy female police interrogator and a cocky, not so smart male criminal that I thought was just the BEST and left me howling. Holy mackerel, that was just fabulous! I am glad there will be more to this series & look forward to Irene's story in 2015. Rest assured there is more to come but this book ends on a satisfying high note and NOT one of those pesky cliffhangers. Nice start to a series that celebrates the powerful love of "Sisters" no matter how they come into your life." ~ 5 Stars, Lomg Time DF Fan

 

"It was quick, but it was also exciting and interesting. I think many readers will find it enjoyable and a good read for a sunny afternoon or an evening indoors. It’s definitely a fast read, and it will entertain without eating away your entire day." ~ 4 Stars, OnlineBookClub.org

Excerpt:

Katherine flew through darkness. Dream darkness. Toward something. Sound barely audible coalesced and rose in volume, forming words. Beneath these gray stone walls I stand, an ancient gypsy king… The darkness lightened into shades of gray and a tower loomed.

A boat approached the tower. Inside, a woman, in Katherine’s likeness. Not her, but near enough to be of her lineage. Floating over the woman, Katherine watched. A man, dressed as an ancient workman, fixed the boat against the steps leading up to the looming tower. Reaching down, he helped the woman from the boat, and pulled her toward a dark stairwell.

Another, in uniform, nodded to the oarsman, and took the woman’s hand. His flickering torch gave barely enough light for the woman to make her way up the stone steps as she groped along behind him. The steps crumbled, and twice the woman almost fell when her feet slipped on the damp stone.

A fierce roar sounded in the night and Katherine knew it as a lion. The guard stopped in front of a scarred wooden door, and pushed it inward. The flicker from his torch revealed a small barren chamber, with scant furnishing and a stone floor. Against the wall stood a crude bed with a single bed covering. The guard motioned the woman inside. She stumbled across the room and sank onto the bed. The guard used his torch to light a single candle. Then without a word, turned and left the cell.

The woman curled into herself. Great sobs shook her body.

Katherine floated back out into the courtyard. Standing in the corner an old man, dressed in the garb of a medieval gypsy, chanted.

“With heavy heart I bear the words of cruelest Mary Queen…”

Mary Queen? Tower? The scene changed in an instant, dream-fashion. Now she floated back to the cell. The same rough cot and threadbare blanket covered a still figure.

“These words I take in sorrow drear unto a lady fair…”

On cue, the woman rose from the cot and entered her dreams. Nobility for certain, possibly even royalty. Her time in the cell had dulled her eyes and matted her hair but yes, the chant was right. She’d been a lady fair. She would be so again, given fresh air and sunshine.

A lady who from birth was blest with visions strange but rare…

The door of the cell opened and the old gypsy entered the cell.

“Tarot! My dear, dear friend! How good it is to see you!” The lady ran into his arms, and he held her to his breast.

“Milady.”

“My grandmother. My husband and son. Is there news?”

“Your grandmother is well and fights ceaselessly for your release. Your husband—there’s been no news from Russia. Except that he pleads for intercession from the Russian Court.”

She smiled sadly. “I can just imagine how much he pleads. He is afeard he’ll be tainted with the same brush that’s painted me.”

“No, Milady! He is doing all he can.”

“Tarot, dear friend, ’tis a very bad liar you are, but I love you for it. Prince Frederick makes no effort on my behalf. He has abandoned me. As have all, in the face of the Queen’s disfavor. All but you and Grandmother. And I bear them no ill for such. ’Tis asking too much to expect them to stand with me and risk a charge of witchcraft.” She shrugged. “And for the prince, a chance to rid himself of a disappointing wife who only bore him one son.”

“Oh, Milady! It hurts me so to hear you speak as though resigned to fate.”

“Dear friend. Do not despair. My heart has always belonged to another, that fate sealed from childhood. If only I’d been stronger, surer! If only I’d followed my heart and run away with my Toby when—”

She broke off, her face losing all expression.

“Milady? What—a vision! ’Tis a vision you’re seeing. Cease fighting them! Use them! Use the power!”

“I—Tarot, someone’s watching us.”

“Watching? I bribed the guards well. They have no cause to—”

“No, not the guards! Someone from—someone not here. Someone who sees us, who knows me. Knows me in her soul. Someone who can—dare I say it? Someone who can help me! Help me change the start of this disastrous path!”

In her dream, Katherine tried to leave, to get away. Enough of this misery that wasn’t hers. Except it was. Somehow it was hers.

“Oh, please! Please don’t leave! Help me! Help us!”

“How?” The dream Katherine spoke. “How do I help you?”

“I cannot tell you!”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“The portrait! Yes, I see it. There’s a painting, a painting yet unfinished! ’Twill show you the way! It must show you the way, or you will never be.”

“Milady? Your vision speaks to you?”

“The portrait! The portrait will know!”

The portrait will know…the portrait will know…the portrait will know…

The words followed Katherine back through the depths of the dream and echoed in her ears when she woke, gasping into wakefulness.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O2DTE1M 

Writers Distractions by Jude Pittman

The things we find to do when we know we should be writing that next chapter.

Okay, I confess I’m one of the worst when it comes to getting myself distracted. As many of you know, I’m a publisher as well as an author, so it seems there are always things to be taken care of.  Now I’m not talking about the “ordinary course of the day stuff that needs to be done”. Nope what I’m referring to is those “one of these days” projects you filed away under “things I’ll investigate when I have time.”  When you’re looking for distractions because you haven’t figured out where that next chapter is going and you know once you sit down to write it your muse is probably going to take over and it’ll be hours and hours before you come up for air.  Those are the kind of distractions I’m talking about here.

The kind that in true “distractor” style, you pull out of your hat and turn away from the blank page in front of you.  One of the first things I think of are facts that need to be checked out on Google or Wikipedia, or – best time waster of all time – I have an urgent need to check out Facebook and see what other people have to say about my topic.  See the pattern.

It’s easy to tell when I’m working on a new novel.  Usually when it’s my turn to Blog I’ll get an email from Jamie about a week ahead of time, reminding me that I’ve got a blog date coming up.  Of course, I’ll make a mental note of that – which I’ll promptly forget – and a couple of days later I’ll get another note from Jamie, this one saying, are you going to have anything for this month or do you want me to use some filler?  Okay, now she’s got my attention (as she knew she would) and I have to go digging for a topic. After a bunch of searching through stuff I have – just to see if I really have to write something new or I can get away with something already written – which usually I can’t because I’ve already everything in previous last minute blog posts.  In desperation I’ll finally apply the seat of my pants to my chair and write a blog.  Probably on whatever it was I was fooling around reading on  Google or Wikipedia, or Facebook if it isn’t liable.

Not this week though.  No Sirree Bob (which was one of my favorite Uncle’s favorite sayings). I’m writing a new book, the latest in my Kelly McWinter series (pictured above) – delighted to share – love sharing the cover – it’s that writing part that always sends me searching for distractions.  Jamie is going to be delighted. She’s getting this Blog a full week before she even gets to remind me. But then again, Jamie is also one of my advance readers on my book.  She’s probably expecting the blog post since she’s well aware of my penchant for distractions and what I’ll probably get from her in return is, “have you finished your 5,000 words for this week yet?”

Actually, I’m rather proud of this week’s work (what there is of it so far). My husband John, who’s Metis and comes up with some fascinating bits of trivia just when I’m in need of something, gave me this one after I’d been muttering around about how I wanted to write an intimate scene between my main characters but I didn’t want it to be an explicit scene. I wanted to leave it to my reader’s imaginations.  That’s when he piped up with “what about using a magic feather”?

Okay, even I couldn’t get distracted off of that one.  Here as a special advance preview, for those of you who I hope will be reading the first book in my new Kelly McWinter series, A Murder State of Mind, California, Deadly Lights, is what came out of the feather remark.

A Murder State of Mind, California

Deadly Lights

By

Jude Pittman

In the travel magazine Kelly read on the plane, the writer described Beverly Hills as a “mix of cosmopolitan sophistication and star-studded excitement”. From what he could see as they whisked along Wilshire Boulevard and turned onto Rodeo Drive, Kelly figured it lived up to its name. Gillian’s nose stayed glued to the window from the time they left the airport until they pulled into what the driver called the porte cochère, the drive between the two wings of the hotel.

When Kelly and Gillian got out of the limo they were met by a doorman – in top hat and tails no less. “Definitely posh,” Kelly whispered in Gillian’s ear.

The lobby beat description. Flowers, sculpted glass, a chandelier with more lights than the Hideaway lit up for a Saturday night shindig. Kelly had to admit the word elegance fit this place like a glove. 

 

“Can you believe this?” Gillian, eyes round as giant marbles, squeezed his arm.”

“Kinda takes your breath away.” They stood under the chandelier, caught in the magic of lights reflecting on the marble beneath their feet.

“Mr. McWinter.” A bellman magically appeared at their side and stood discreetly waiting for them to close their mouths.

“Everything is prepared for your arrival.” He smiled at both of them and spoke to Kelly. 

“If you and Mrs. McWinter would like to follow me, I’ll see you to your suite.”

They followed him across the lobby, gawking all the way. The elevator whisked them to the twelfth floor where they stepped out into a hallway lined with portraits of movie star greats from days gone by. 

“Ms. Davis mentioned that you’d want to be connected to the pool and spa,” the Bellman stopped in front of one of the doors at the end of the hall. “I hope you’ll like this corner Beverly Suite. As you can see, it has two balconies with a nice view from either.”

Their escort checked the rooms, made sure all their luggage had been delivered and reminded them to call if they needed anything.

“Nice. Did he say nice?” Gillian whispered when the door closed behind him.

“I guess in his world looking directly out on shoppers strolling along world famous Rodeo Drive is just nice.”

“You can talk out loud you know. I expect this room is insulated for sound.” Kelly laughed and Gillian poked him in the ribs. “Okay wise guy. And just how many times have you looked out your window at women flicking their chinchillas over their shoulders.”

“Yep, they do beat anything I’ve ever seen. It must be 80 degrees out there, and everywhere I look there’s a cougar with a rat around her neck stalking a billionaire.”

“Kelly McWinter, you stop mocking. Did you see the bar we passed? The place was probably packed with movie stars and millionaires.”

Kelly grabbed Gillian around the waist, backed up to the bed and rolled with her onto the ultra-soft mattress of their King sized bed. “I’m a lot more interested in what I’ve got right here in my own room than what they’ve got down there in the bar. Not arguing, just saying it’s a lot more likely there’s cougars and tourists looking for stars and millionaires.”

Gillian gave up and flopped back in his arms. “Did I hear that major domo say we had champagne and strawberries in the sitting room?”

“You stay right here.” Kelly gave her a quick kiss and headed out to get the goodies.

Back in the bedroom, Gillian stripped out of her traveling clothes, gave her hair a quick brush, and slipped beneath the satiny sheets.

* * *

Several hours later, after some very intense lovemaking, followed by a long and leisurely nap, Kelly woke up with Gillian snuggled in his arms.

“Wow.” He whispered into her ear. “If anyone had told me a woman could do that with strawberries and champagne I’d have called them a liar.”

Gillian opened her eyes and giggled. “Never mind that, what I want to know is where in the devil you got that feather?”

“You liked that did you? One of these days I’ll have to introduce you to Deputy Randy Buffalo. He’s a Comanche Indian, traces his line all the way back to Chief Buffalo Hump. We worked a case together while I was still on the force. He was tracking a suspect from Amarillo and I was tracking one from Fort Worth and damned if they didn’t come together in El Paso. We took them down on a Friday night and had to hang around waiting for a judge until Monday morning. I don’t remember a lot about that weekend, but I do recall a bet on who could swallow the first worm. I won the bet and Randy gave me the magic feather. He told me not to use the feather until I found a woman I wanted forever. I put it away in my stuff and never thought about it again. Then the other night, when I was looking for a set of turquoise cufflinks I bought in El Paso, I came across the feather. It seemed like this might be a good time to try out Randy’s magic, so I brought it along.”

Gillian wrapped one of her legs around Kelly’s waist and grinned. “I bet that Comanche friend of yours is a married man with half a dozen kids by now. At least he is if he kept one of those feathers for himself.”

To be continued after I finish…………….Distractions……………..

Jude Pittman

http://bookswelove.net/authors/jude-pittman/#