A Passion for Books by Victoria Chatham

AVAILABLE HERE AT 50% DISCOUNT UNTIL JULY 31st

I’ve done it again – blown my book budget for July. I swear I am not going to buy any more books until I have read the last five on my Kindle. But there are so many good books out there that if I miss picking up this title, now, I may never see it again. I’m sure you understand how that goes. I let books go and then repurchase them because I miss them and want to reread them. I could, and probably should use my local library more often, but I’m a slower reader these days and like to savour the pages rather than charge through them. Then there are the titles I have let go and cannot remember the author or the title, and that drives me a little crazy.

I’ve worked in a book store, so understand the glazed look of clerks when someone outlines a story and expects you to have the author and title at your fingertips as if you have read every book in the store, or ever published for that matter. Going into a book store for me is an adventure. I never know what I will come across. Never mind the title and story, what will the pages be like to smell or touch?

As Helene Hanff says in 84 Charing Cross Road of one of the books she received, ‘I’m almost afraid to handle such soft vellum and heavy cream-coloured pages. Being used to the dead-white paper and stiff cardboardy covers of American books, I never knew a book could be such a joy to the touch.’

Like Helene, I still have books that are a joy to touch. An old, first edition copy Kipling’s Thy Servant a Dog, an illustrated copy of The Wind in the Willows and Nicolas Bentley’s Tales from Shakespeare, are just a few that I pull out from time to time not only to read but to smell and touch. 

What is, or are, your favourite books for their tactile properties as well as their content? Do you have one particular book, or several? So much for those who forecast that physical books would go the way of the dodo with the arrival of ereaders. I like my ereader for the convenience when I travel, but for me there is nothing quite like holding the real thing in my hands.

Victoria Chatham

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Featured Author Nancy M. Bell

BWL Featured Author Post   Nancy M Bell
http://bwlpublishing.ca/bell-nancy/

Hello! Welcome to the BWL Publishing Inc. Blog. I’m privileged to be a BWL Publishing Inc. author. It’s a wonderful and supportive publishing house. You can find out more about my titles at BWL Publishing by following this link. http://bwlpublishing.ca/bell-nancy/   There is lots information and buy links to my books.

Right now, I’m working on Book 2 of The Alberta Adventures. Book 1 is Wild Horse Rescue which features Laurel Rowan and friends, she’s the main character from The Cornwall Adventures series. The current series is set in southern Alberta in and around Pincher Creek. My work in progress is Dead Dogs Talk, while Wild Horse Rescue centered around saving a herd of wildies, Dead Dogs Talk delves into the dark realm of dog fighting rings and puppy mills. It’s not all dark and gruesome, but because I work in animal rescue it does deal with helping those who have no voice of their own. There’s some adventure, some romance, some danger…well you get the gist. 

Just to whet your whistle, so to speak, here’s an excerpt from Dead Dogs Talk to be released in September of 2020.

Dead Dogs Talk

©Nancy M Bell 2020

Laurel surveyed the buckskin prairie rolling away from her toward the purple hued Rockies in the distance. She inhaled the familiar scent of dry grain stubble and dust with underlying notes of cool brought on the wind from the west.

“I know it sounds lame, but have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Laurel turned and spoke to Carly, her best friend.

“I love this time of year. The sky is just so…so…blue and the aspens are all turning gold.” Carly nudged her mare up beside Laurel’s Sam, the saddle leather creaking as she shifted her weight.

Laurel grinned at her. “Let ride down by the river under the trees, the sun’s just about the right angle to turn those leaves all gold and sunstruck.”

The girls turned the horses away from the harvested barley field and followed the worn path along a fence line toward the coulee. The track snaked around and followed the gravel range road before detouring around a stand of aspen crowding the fence near the road. Laurel turned Sam toward the path that dipped down the slope of the coulee.

“Hey, Laurel, wait up!”

Laurel pulled up and twisted in the saddle to see what was holding Carly up. “What’s wrong?” She pivoted Sam on the narrow trail and moved back to where Carly was sitting motionless. “What? You okay?” Laurel drew even with her friend and let Sam halt beside the mare.

“Look…” Carly motioned toward the aspens and low bushes. “Is that what I think it is?” her voice choked off.

“I don’t see…” Laurel nudged Sam a few steps closer and leaned down trying to see what was upsetting Carly. “Oh my God!” She piled off her horse, dropping the reins to ground-tie the gelding. Shoving her way through the tangled bushes, she halted by a bent aspen tree. Tied by its neck to the lowest branch was a brindle dog. Blinking back tears, Laurel reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out her jack knife. Muttering words her father would frown at, she started to saw at the thick rope.

“Who would do something like this?” Carly’s voice trembled as she pushed through the long grass and brush. “The poor thing, I hope it didn’t suffer.” She stuffed a hand against her mouth.

The dog’s head flopped to the side when the rope finally parted, and the limp body collapsed onto the trodden grass. Laurel dropped to her knees and began working at loosening the noose around the thick neck.

“It’s dead, Laurel. What are you doing? Let’s go, we should tell someone. What if whoever did this comes back?” Carly started edging back toward the horses.

“I don’t care! The least we can do is take this damned rope off her.” She pulled the noose free and sat back on her heels. “Poor baby. Look at the scars on her face, and the wounds all over her. Makes me so mad I could just spit.”

“Shit!” The limp body gave a shuddering convulsion and the unfocussed eyes fluttered. Laurel scrambled backward. “Carly, she’s alive! The dog is still alive. Come help me.”

“We should go and get help, Laurel. What if the thing is vicious? Or has rabies?” Carly hesitated at the edge of the trees.

“We can’t leave her like this. She might run off before we can get back once she’s recovered a bit. She needs a vet. And we need to take pictures of everything. Damn, I should have thought of that before I touched anything.” Laurel pulled her phone out of her pocket and took pictures of the rope and the dog and the area while keeping an eye on the dog who panted in rasping breaths. “Keep breathing, girl. Keep breathing.” She edged closed to the dog, reached out cautiously and straightened out a front leg that was twisted under a broken tree limb. The dog lifted her head and Laurel froze with her hand still on the leg.

“Get back!” Carly’s voice was shrill.

“It’s fine, she’s not even growling. I think she’s too weak to do much more than lie there.”

“Now what do we do? It’s getting late, you know. Look at the sun.” Carly waved an arm toward the western horizon where the sun hovered a hand’s width above the shorn barley.

“Call Chance. He can bring the truck.” Laurel released the dog’s leg and stood up.

“I don’t know if he’ll even come,” Carly was doubtful. “You know how he gets.”

“Call him, will you? I’m going to call Dr. Sam and let him know we’re bringing in an injured dog.” Laurel scrolled through her phone to the vet’s number. She glanced at Carly and scowled. “Call your damn brother, Carly. If he says no, we’ll figure something else out. He can’t bite you over the phone.”

“Hi Marg,” she responded when the vet’s receptionist picked up the phone. “It’s Laurel Rowan. I’ve got an injured dog that’s in pretty bad shape here.” She paused to listen. “No, no, not one of mine. Carly and I found this dog while we were out riding. It’s in pretty bad shape, she was tied to a tree, half strangled and looks like she’s been in a fight. What? No, there’s no one around that we saw. As soon as we can get a ride, I’ll bring her in. Thanks.” Laurel ended the call and shoved the phone back in her pocket.

“Chance is coming.” Carly joined her under the aspens.

“Good. Hey, did you bring any water? I bet she’s dehydrated.” Laurel squatted beside the dog again and reached out a hand. When the big dog did nothing more than roll an eye toward her, she stroked the dog’s shoulder. Running her hand gently over the ribs and down her spine, Laurel’s gut clenched. Her exploring fingers found bumps and contusions, along with matted blood and open wounds. “Hey baby girl, it’s okay now. We got you,” she murmured.

“Here.” Carly shoved a half full bottle of water at Laurel. “It’s all I’ve got on me.” She hesitated before kneeling beside Laurel. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough. Looks like someone beat the crap out of her before they dumped her here.”

The growl of tires on the gravel heralded an approaching vehicle. Laurel glanced through the trees toward the road. “Is it Chance? Stay down, Carly, until we’re sure it’s him.”

“Oh God! You don’t think whoever did this would come back, do you? What about the horses? Anybody could see them from the road…” Carly turned pale.

“Don’t freak out on me, now. Just stay in the trees until we’re sure it’s Chance. I don’t think whoever did this cares enough to show up again.”

The crunch of tires on gravel slowed and a beat up brown pickup slowed to a halt where the horses stood ground-tied on the opposite side of the fence.

“Carly? Laurie? Where the hell are you?” Chance stepped out of the truck, sounding annoyed.

“Here!” Carly pushed through the trees toward her brother. “The dog’s in the bushes here. It’s too heavy for us to move. Laurel’s with her.”

Chance reached inside the truck and killed the engine before he stalked down the ditch and swung a long leg over the top strand of barb wire. He followed his sister through the low brush and halted beside Laurel.

“What a shittin’ mess. You sure it’s alive?” He nudged the dog with is boot.

Romantic Tropes, a Shocking Parody by Diane Scott Lewis

Warning: Romance Authors, please don't take offence. What you do and do well is wonderful for your eager audience. This is my own experience and feelings.

When I first read Romance Novels, they were racy, sexy, and a woman could have more than one lover. Now they follow a strict formula, and are toned down, unless it's Erotica.
The man and woman must meet in the first few pages; they can't be apart during the story for large chunks of time; and there must be a HEA: happily Ever After.

I read several, but the formula wore me down. I wanted surprises, better historical details, in other words, I wanted straight Historical Fiction with Romantic Elements.


Finally, I decided to write a romance parody, using all the tropes, but making fun of them. The Heaving Breast, Bodice Ripper, but all presented as Tongue-in-Cheek.
I tried to parody all the tropes writers are supposed to avoid: The arranged marriage. The Alpha make who's a jerk, until our heroine tames him. He's in a position of power over her. He insults her (but in my story, she insults him right back). She's devastatingly gorgeous. He's handsome and brooding There's so many, the list could go on.
But I do give them a HEA.

Excerpt:

“How is your sojourn in London, my lady? A sudden urge to travel, had you?” Griffin smiled at the rising anger in her blue eyes.

     “How dare you follow me, sir. And drag me into bushes.” Miss Pencavel pulled away from him, chin jutted out. “I told you my wishes in Cornwall. You have wasted your time if you’re here to change my mind.”
         “Truth is, I did have business in town, so it’s not a total waste.” He rocked back on his heels, arms now behind his back. His actions were irrational, and totally alien to his usual demeanor. “You intrigue me, Miss Pencavel, such as a wasp might intrigue one. You wonder how close you may hover before being stung.”
          "You will feel my sting, sir; but nothing else of my person. I will buzz away from your distasteful reach." She slowly licked her ice cream spoon, her breasts heaving.

He laughed and enjoyed baiting her. This slip of a girl provoked him, and that was disconcerting. Most females he understood as connivers or simpletons. Miss Pencavel appeared to be neither. Her eyes shone with an innate intelligence. Why had he followed her into the garden—he had little use for marriage? A wife like her would only get in his way.

He'd provoke her further.

“I've long wanted to ask, are you like your mother, partial to servants and other low-lifes?”

“I might be partial to whoever takes my fancy, a sailor, a groom, a particularly handsome nightsoil man.” She scrutinized him closely. “I’ve heard you have sinister inclinations, not that such things would bother me, being the free-thinking person I am, but I’d rather not be troubled with you.” Yet the wanton glint in her eyes spurred him on.
 

The response I received in reviews shocked me. People were insulted. They left mean reviews on-line, even though in the blurb at the beginning I explained it's a parody, a farce, etc. Here was my Author's Note:

all clichés, redundancies, startling coincidences,

and anachronisms are presented here on purpose.

Don't be offended, I want you to laugh.

To purchase this novel for farce and parody, and my other BWL books: BWL  or Lady Pencavel

Find out more about me and my novels on my website: Dianescottlewis

Diane and husband, at former navy base, Greece

 Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty puppy.

Celebrate Sneak Some Zucchini Into Your Neighbor's Porch Day!

             

Terror on Sunshine Boulevard by J.Q. Rose

Rescuing a naked woman lying in a geranium bed? Investigating mysterious murders? 

These are not the usual calls in a Florida retirement community for volunteer first responder Jim Hart.

Click here to find more mysteries by J. Q. Rose at BWL Publishing

Zucchini
Image by congerdesign from Pixabay 

#SneakSomeZucchiniIntoYourNeighborsPorchDay

Celebrate Sneak Some Zucchini Into Your Neighbor's Porch Day!

by J.Q. Rose

Be ready! Zucchini season is here in our part of the world anyway. And the zucchini in our garden is flourishing. I look at them and think YUM, zucchini cake, bread, stir fry, casserole. Then I realize it is impossible to use up all of the fruit on the vines. But then, I recall a fun way to get rid of it--National Sneak Your Zucchini IntoYour Neighbor's Porch Day is on August 8. (I imagine this year we will be sneaking around and leaving zucchini everywhere way before August 8.)

Be ready to duck if your neighbor catches you at it and throws the zuke at you!

Zucchini is good for you. It is low in calories and high in fiber and water content so it keeps you satisfied after enjoying the green fruit. Recipes abound with yummy ways to prepare it. My friend, Carole, collected fifty recipes years ago using zucchini, There Must Be 50 Ways to Fix Your Zucchini (with apologies to Paul Simon.) She includes recipes for pickles, relish and jam, pancakes, fritters and frittatas, bread, soups, stews, meatless dishes, meat entrees and desserts! Whew. What a versatile food! Go ahead and Google zucchini and see how many recipes you will find. Try one to change up your menu and enjoy!

Do you like zucchini? Would you throw it at me if I snuck some on your porch?

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

Featured Author Vijaya Schartz

Hi. My name is Vijaya Schartz, and I write mainly science fiction and Celtic legends with a little romance for BWL Publishing Inc. Find my books on my BWL page at: https://bookswelove.net/schartz-vijaya/ 

Maybe I have a different outlook on life because I was born and raised in France, but I traveled all over the world and found out I'm just a little different. Period. I think I come from the future. I can't be satisfied with today's limitations of the human race. We are bigger than all our petty differences. I get frustrated when people do not behave like the kind and noble creatures we all are inside. 

My world is the universe. In my books, many of my characters transcend human limits and develop extraordinary abilities. The abilities I think everyone has but never sharpened. In my dreams I can fly and travel to other planets... and so do many of my characters. Whether medieval or futuristic, most of my heroines are very strong women, handy with a sword or a blaster, and they do not hesitate to kick evil's butt.

I decided long ago not to write about people's failures, mistakes, and shortcomings, but about what they could be in their best version. Everyone has potential. In my definition, heroes are ordinary people, who, at a critical time, realized their full potential.

Of course, for heroes to realize their potential, they have to face villains, and mine are often pure evil. A reviewer once wrote: "Captain Kavak (Ancient Enemy sci-fi series) is by far the worst (read best) villain in science fiction." I have since written many equally evil villains, and Admiral Mort Lowell, the villain in my September 2020 release, MALAIKA'S SECRET, Byzantium book 3, is no exception.

I also have an affinity for cats. I love all cats, big and small, and they do appear on my book covers, and in my novels as secondary characters. Some of these cats are telepathic... as I believe most cats are.

My latest series are: 
AZURA CHRONICLES, set on a forbidden planet where angels roam. Books 1 and 2 are out. Book 3 is coming next year.

There is a planet out in the universe, emitting a strange turquoise glow. A long time ago Azura refused to join the Trade Alliance. The Alliance sent their military fleet to destroy the Azurans, but their powerful supernatural abilities spread fear even among the fiercest Devil Dogs. Since then, records have been erased. Rumors and legends all but died. Azura is strictly forbidden, and the daring few who ventured beyond the warning space beacons were never seen again...

The BYZANTIUM series, set on a human space station. Books 1 and 2 are out. Book 3 is coming in September.

Hovering at the edge of conquered space, in orbit around a dying star, sits an aging space station under the control of the Galactic Trade Alliance. Byzantium, once a thriving commercial hub, is turning into a den of crime, drugs, and debauchery, where anything or anyone can be bought or sold. The maximum-security penitentiary at its core, the Fortress, is a pit of despair and holds the most dangerous felons in the galaxy. For over a hundred cycles, the GTA has annexed worlds and plundered their resources. It now controls most of the galaxy, except for a few useless rocks and a small number of rebellious planets, who still manage to challenge their military might. But something is coming to upset the balance of power... something the GTA did not foresee.

Both series above are set in the same universe and in the same far future. I like each book in my series to be a complete story, but a few characters do pop out in more than one book. 

There is also the CHRONICLES OF KASSOUK, a six book sci-fi romance series (complete).

Noah's Ark, a transport full of human settlers equipped to seed a new planet with life, crashes on the wrong world, a cold orb beyond the confines of the known universe. Seeking refuge in the abandoned alien fortress of Kassouk, the settlers and their motley crew fight for survival, against hostile natives, and advanced galactic races who consider them cheap labor and research material for their genetic experiments.

Stranded with no hope of rescue, deprived of their technology by the ruling aliens, the humans of Kassouk reverse to a medieval farming society with slight differences. Besides horses and swords, they keep large felines as pets and train them for battle. They also proudly adopt big cat names as warrior names, and women often strive as military leaders.

As they fight their alien rulers to keep their freedom and their pride, as well as the right to freely choose their mates… other, more insidious dangers lurk. Generation after generation, as the people of Kassouk evolve and secretly learn from the alien races oppressing them, a few start developing extraordinary abilities…

If you like medieval knights and ladies and Celtic legends, you may want to try the CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE , an eight book series (complete) derived from authentic legends, with immortal ladies related to Morgan the Fay. 

From history shrouded in myths, emerges a family of immortal Celtic Ladies, who roam the medieval world in search of salvation from a curse. For centuries, imbued with hereditary gifts, they hide their deadly secret, stirring passions in their wake as they fight the Viking hordes, send the first knights to the Holy Land, give birth to kings and emperors... but if the Church ever suspects what they really are, they will be hunted, tortured, and burned at the stake.

I have more series and books out there. Find them all on my author page on your favorite retail sites.

Hope you enjoy the read.