A Few Lines from… Kathy Fischer-Brown

A Few Lines from…

Kathy Fischer-Brown

Winter Fire

"Get back!" he shouted. "The ice won't hold you!"

She whirled around in alarm.

And in that split second, he saw her eyes. Those startled doe's eyes. Zara Grey!

In the next instant, a crack—like a musket shot—echoed through the ravine. She reeled as the ice heaved up beneath her amid an angry surge of black water. And then, her face frozen in a look of surprise, her mouth open in a semblance of a silent scream, she disappeared through the widening breach.

His gaze fixed on the roiling chasm, Ethan hurled himself down the slope. She surfaced—flailing arms and legs, and gasping desperately for air—churning up the black water into an icy froth. She grasped at the splinters of ice.

"Keep your head up!"

Racing along the bank, he ripped off his deerskin jacket and hurled it, along with his rifle and belt into the snow. If she went under again, she'd be trapped. Already the current had taken her, sweeping her like a bobbing cork toward the opposite bank where the ice was thicker.

"Keep your head up!"

But the frenzied movement of her arms had slowed. She gasped at the water along with the air. She could barely keep herself afloat. As if she had made a conscious choice to surrender herself to a stronger power, he saw the spirit drain out of her. An eerie calm settled over her eyes as her gaze met his, then she slipped under again without a struggle.

Without stopping to think, Ethan tore off his shirt and moccasins, and dove through the opening.

Buy from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Winter-Fire-ebook/dp/B004BA5GMM

Visit Kathy’s website: http://www.kfischer-brown.com

Stop back next week for A Few Lines from… Angel de' Amor

A Few Lines From. . .Jane Toombs

Bride of the Baja by Jane Toombs

After a long ride Alitha was untied, pulled down from the horse and carried to a hut, where she was pushed inside and left alone in the darkness. She lay huddled on the ground for a moment listening to the sounds around her—the pounding of the surf, the drunken shouts of the men, the neighing of horses, the barking of dogs.

Coming Soon! Find this title and Jane's other books at: http://bookswelove.net/janetoombs.php

Please stop back next week for a few lines from 

Kathy Fischer-Brown.

A Few Lines From. . .Janet Lane Walters

A Few Lines from Shattered Dreams by Janet Lane Walters

Without a glance at the waiting patient, she strode to the counter. The aroma strengthened. Hadn’t been her imagination. She turned her head and stared at the man wearing the green cotton examining gown. She gripped the edge of the counter. Blood rushed from her head.

“You’re dead.” The words slashed the silence. This couldn’t be happening.

“Hardly.”

The voice sounded like the one from her dreams. She opened her mouth to ask where he’d been and what he’d been doing for the past twelve years. She sucked in a shallow breath. Asking that question would only stir the emotions she had frozen.

“Don’t bail on me. Sit down.”

Her fingers had no feeling. Waves of darkness dimmed her vision. The edge of the counter disappeared. Her knees buckled. Blackness engulfed her.

* * *

 

“Manon!” Rafe Marshall leaped from the examining table in time to catch her before she hit the floor. He cradled her against his chest. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered. Why did she think he was dead? He knew news of his accident had been kept quiet because the police believed he’d been deliberately forced off the road. Who had told her? Had the informant been the driver of the dark car his rescuer had seen speeding from the scene?

 

 

 

Find Shattered Dreams here:

http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Dreams-Moonchild-ebook/dp/B00DPZT6K2/

 

Janet can be found daily at http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com/

 

 

Stay tuned. Next week A Few Lines features Jane Toombs...

 

A Few Lines from. . . Betty Jo Schuler

This week, a few lines from Finding Freedom by Betty Jo Schuler

                CELESTE HARTE GLARED at the twenty-nine candles on her birthday cake. She'd squandered her last fourteen birthday wishes asking for a fairy tale romance, and her life still read like an instruction manual. The frog she'd hoped would turn into a prince—God rest his soul—had been a cheating toad. Leaning her hands on her glass-topped kitchen table, she puffed out her cheeks and blew. I wish I'd meet a man who would turn my life into a sizzling romance novel.

            "Easy." Marianne Joest raised an auburn brow as she swiped cream frosting from her blouse with a manicured nail. Closing her eyes, she sucked her fingertip. "Mm. Next best thing to an orgasm."
     "My life is half over, I haven't made love in I-can't-remember-when, and you talk about orgasm?"

       "Half over?" Marianne snorted. "And I thought Susan was the drama queen." She cut two slices of cake and handed Celeste one. 

  

      Celeste shook her head. "It's loaded with fat."

        "Dammit, Cee. This is carrot cake, a vegetable with frosting. You're thin enough no matter what Harry said, and twenty-nine isn't the beginning of menopause."

http://bettyjowrites.com

http://bookswelove.net/bettyjoschuler.php

Come back next week for a few lines from Janet Lane Walters.

A Few Lines from Hazel Statham

Today, a few lines from His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham.

The shadows of the remaining light played across Caroline’s sleeping countenance and he smoothed a lock of hair that had strayed across her forehead. He knew the desire that his lips should follow his finger’s course, but even in his state of inebriation, he knew this would be foolish.

For several minutes, he watched his wife sleep, eventually placing his head upon the pillow beside her. His lips curved into a loving smile as his eyes drank in her sleep-softened

countenance and he felt her breath caress his cheek. The longing to hold her became an almost physical thing and his arms ached with the suppressed desire.

Eventually she stirred, muttering incoherently in her sleep, and he raised himself up. *What foolishness is this*, he thought. *I am acting like a callow youth, *and immediately he was on his feet. Snatching up the light, he went quickly out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

http://bookswelove.net/statham.php

Come back next week for a few lines from Betty Jo Schuler.

Books You'll Love from Books We Love: New Interview with author Sydell Voeller

Books You'll Love from Books We Love: New Interview with author Sydell Voeller: Sydell Voeller grew up in Washington State, but has lived in Oregon for over thirty-five years.  Throughout her twenty-...

Find Significance in what you create by Rita Karnopp

I wrote the following blog for another site - but I felt like sharing here, too.  I truly believe sometimes we fail to acknowledge our successes - and we should.  I hope this reminds you to give yourself major kudos every time you write 'the end.'  Rita

We write because we are inspired.  We have stories rambling around in our heads and we have this great desire to write them down, and share them.  We also have the desire and ambition for success.  We have goals to actually make money from our book sales.

After completing that first book - we are filled with incredible pride and joy.  We have every right to be.  Unfortunately, those feelings don’t last all that long.  An impending question pressures us into asking, “What next?”

A feeling of doom and gloom consumes us.  Why?  We are filled with mixed emotions; excitement, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, apprehension, and even frustration.  The proverbial question that is most daunting; “What if no one likes my book?”  It’s our insecurities that haunt us the most.

So many people say they are going to write a book – and never do.  You’ve done something fantastic. You were committed, worked hard, and sacrificed to accomplish this one thing.  Yet, you are allowing self-doubt, anxieties, and even fear, take you from euphoria to downright depressed.

Shake it off and step back.  Take time to compliment yourself on a job well-done.   Celebrate!  Nothing will feel like finishing that first book.  Take time to feel pride in yourself. Take time to share your success with your family and friends.  Take time to plant this feeling in your mind – so you can revisit it in the future.

There is no greater joy than to experience this sense of creativity, then sharing it with others.  The moment we think of asking, “what comes next,” deflates our exhilaration and changes to being overwhelmed – the excitement turns to uneasiness.

You’ve finally written that book – now don’t let the panic of taking the next step stop you.   It’s often the fear of failure, the frustration of not knowing which way to turn, and even the dread of being told that what you just poured your heart and soul into is – crap.

Remind yourself, you didn’t work that hard or put that much love into a story to fail.  Don’t be satisfied, or settle for knowing you wrote it – and nothing more.  Learn what comes next, follow a plan and start submitting that book for reviews.  Take the feedback and comments that will make the story better (toss the others away) and rewrite.  Then move on to the stage of finding an agent or publisher.

Let me point out here that not all writers are as successful as Dean Kuntz or Catherine Coulter.  That does not mean you are not successful.  I don’t feel I’m a failure just because I haven’t sold millions of books.  My main goal was to see my name on the cover of ‘a’ book.  I now have fourteen published books!  I’m so proud of that success.  I refuse to tarnish that feat by comparing myself to writers who have accomplished more.

Don’t let a miss-guided sense of success take away from the significance of what you’ve accomplished.  Step back and remind yourself of the ‘joy’ you felt when you typed ‘the end’ and finished that first book.  Ask yourself why you write in the first place - this should determine the value you place on success.  Find significance in what you create and celebrate it – book after book.

(Note:  Yes - I did receive the New Covey Award.)