Guest interview with Helen Henderson

Debbie: Morning Ladies and Gents. Seems we’ve stepped into the cyber fantasy world and landed ourselves on a magic ship in the middle of a storm. Laura, I hope you took your Dramamine, it’s pretty darn rough out here. Oh and sorry, not a coffee shop in site.

Laura: Took the Dramamine before we left the dock, so I’m good. I’m very excited to talk with Helen about her book, Windmaster. And yeah…you’d think a ship like this would have a measly coffee maker. Oh wait…did you say magic ship?? Hmm. Maybe I need to do a chant like our characters did in that paranormal we just finished writing!
............One, two, hey ship I’m talkin’ to you
............Three, four, there’s no coffee and I need more
............Five, six, I’d love a good chocolate-coffee mix
............Seven, eight, whipped cream on top sure would be great!
............Nine, ten, When the mug’s empty, please fill it again!
(holds out hands) Nothing.

Debbie: (shaking head) You freaking fool. If it were that easy, everyone would be making up rhymes for things they want. What you need to do close your eyes say picture the totally hot guy you want to fall in love with you in your head and say three times, “There’s no one like him, there’s no one like him, there’s no one like him” Click your heals and voila…(opens eyes) Well, damn!

Laura: (laughs) And you call me the freaking fool! Women around the world would be doing that chant if it really worked. At least all I asked for was a cup ‘o Joe….you, on the other hand, were asking for Joe himself. Which do you think is easi—
....Look out! Here comes a wave! Hang on!!!!

Debbie: Whoa! Those waves are getting a might bit gnarly. LOL, like my beach talk. Too bad we’re not on the beach. Then the cup ‘o Joe and Joe would be a heck of a lot easier to conjure up, cuz let me tell ya, this new single life sucks. If the storm gets worse we may be in need of rescue, and I’m not talking that hooded guy with the staff that likes to follow us around.

Laura: Good gosh, I hope not! He’s really starting to creep me out. Course, with a story like Helen’s, there’s no telling what might be out here…in the water…deeeeep under the water…or even up there in those black clouds. (shivers)

Debbie: Is Helen on this boat somewhere?

Laura: Wait, you drag me out here to do an interview, I almost drown from these huge waves, and you don’t even know if she’s on the boat??

Debbie: Well, I assume she’s here, feels just like the ship from her excerpt and I told her we’d be happy to meet her on a boat. Of course this wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but hey, we’re always up for an adventure. Right?

Laura: Uh, sure. Course, you neglected to mention that enormous dragon above the boat….

Debbie: Uh, yeah, not quite sure what that’s all about either. (straps on life vest)

Laura: So, you get the only life vest... (nods) I think I'm beginning to understand the nature of this relationship....

Debbie: Wait, (waves) there's Helen over by that hunky wizardly looking dude.

Laura: Awesome! Maybe the dragon is his and he can call the beast off before it thinks were marshmallows and roasts us!

LAURA: Hey, Helen! Whew…got a little tense there, but so glad you found us!

DEBBIE: Who found whom?? Hi Helen, ummm this is…quite the ship you’ve written about here. Can’t wait for you to tell us about it. But first, have you always wanted to be an author?

HELEN: I inherited a love of reading from my grandmother and that translated into the flip side of the coin, writing. Recently I cleaned out the source notes, travel clips of now defunct events, and unused photos. What was kept was memories, and a large pile of non-fiction material that forms the perfect research base for helping me plan the itinerary when I take people to worlds of imagination or to the Old West.

LAURA: Nice resource for sure. I see from your bio that you were a feature-story writer and correspondent. What story did you write that stands out most in your mind today?

HELEN: The first story that popped into my mind was a Pennsylvania airshow that was known not only for its aircraft, but a military vehicle rally. It was my first overnight assignment without having my other-half along. Remember back then digital cameras didn’t exist, let alone be as omnipresent as they are now. At something like an airshow, you basically got one attempt to capture an image. Talk about pressure. Anyhow, dressed in battle fatigues (sans mark of rank) and with a press badge hung on my belt, three pens and a small steno pad in my pocket, I drove to the airfield gate, where I was promptly stopped by a sentry.
....After identifying myself, he telephoned ‘headquarters.’ A few minutes later, a soldier rode up on a restored WWI bicycle with my ‘orders.’ At that point I knew things were going to be interesting. Per orders, still in uniform, I mustered with the reenactors and rode in a vintage jeep as part of the caravan of military vehicles.
....That was not the only time I felt I was in another era. Now to set the scene which will explain the eeriness. You are standing beneath the wing of a B-17 bomber, surrounded by men and women in uniform. The music being broadcast over the loudspeakers stops mid-note. “Pearl Harbor has just been bombed,” echoes over the tarmac. Even after the crowd of thousands realized it was a replay of a broadcast from December 7th, 1941, they remained in attentive silence, many rubbing goose bumps from their arms. As a side note, I had a similar reaction years later when I stood on the boardwalk near where I live and saw the twin towers shrouded in smoke.

DEBBIE: Wow, I know I just got goose bumps all over!

LAURA: OMG! I’ve seen documentaries on the history and military channels where people recount how it felt to hear that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. I just can’t imagine what that could’ve been like. I was however out in California when 9/11 happened. My husband and I were up in the air, flying over Gilroy in our R22 helicopter when they called us on the radio and told us to land immediately. It wasn’t until we were on the ground that we learned what had happened. After that, there were no airplanes in the sky…I’m sure anyone who lives near an airport can tell you how bizarre that is!

DEBBIE: Have you ever taken real world events and incorporated them into your stories?

HELEN: Writing fantasy, incorporating the real world can be difficult. Sword fights and dragons soaring overhead aren’t part of most people’s everyday life. That said, I believe a secret to a good fantasy is the world must be real to you and the reader. So I base things like settings on places I’ve been or researched.
....Sometimes, the real world unintentionally collides with the fictional. Several months ago I wrote a scene for my current work-in-progress which involves the villain and unwilling shark-bait. Of course, I did have a hard time explaining to my husband that I wrote that chapter four months prior to the Jaws movie marathon the was watching on television.
....Another case where the real word and fictional overlap. In Windmaster, after being forced to run a gauntlet, the hero, appropriately dressed or is it undressed (use your imagination), is in a dungeon. Several months after Windmaster’s 2011 release by Burst Books, a television commercial caught my interest. If someone had read the book they would immediately recognize the prisoner in the dungeon—Lord Dal.

DEBBIE: So maybe you’ve got a touch of psychic ability you are subconsciously tapping into. That would be cool.

LAURA: (nudges Debbie) So, that dragon up there just might be hers! (turns back toward Helen) I also saw on your bio that your mom was a coal-miner’s daughter and your dad a flight engineer. What a great difference in backgrounds, what was your childhood like?

HELEN: I grew up on a farm so there are the simpler aspects of a rural life, including a pony, running through the fields, and training the family dog—a collie—to herd sheep. Like a coal-miner’s daughter, I developed a self-reliance and learned to drive every vehicle on the farm at a young age. Ever try to coax a recalcitrant bull back into the pasture when you’re dressed in high heels and cap and gown. Grab a bucket, clang it to signal dinnertime, and listen for the sound of hoofs. The trick worked to get me to graduation on time.
....One influence my father’s career had on me was that I always wanted to fly, both in the atmosphere and beyond. When still in grade school I knew the instrument panel of an old Constellation (I still have a picture of one of the tri-tailed cargo planes in my research drawer.) In high school I took the interest in flying to the next level, although it ended up my brother earned his private pilot license not me.
....A different aspect of my childhood directly related to my father’s professional life in aviation, I learned my numbers and how to read (at least the words add/delete/replace) by updating manuals.

LAURA: Yes! I so love flying, too! I’ve been in planes, but I have to admit I have a special fondness for rotorcraft. I like how I can stop and hover in midair if I want. lol But it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done (snort) Next to working with Debbie, that is—she can be quite the taskmaster!

DEBBIE: Me? You’re the one with the whip, it’s all that caffeine you ingest daily. Sheesh, so Helen, you talk about contrasts in your personality... What do you think are your two biggest contrasts?

HELEN: There are two sides to my personality—the controlled, logical side that would make Mr. Spock proud, and the dreamer. Logic allows me to program the intricate steps of a computer program or write a user’s manual. The other side is a freewheeling sprite who soars with dragons. One of the problems I had breaking into fiction was editors’ beliefs that non-fiction writers can’t create fiction. While it is true that not all authors can cross between truth and fantasy, my logical side complements the emotional one, enabling to create smooth-flowing, fast-paced stories with characters you want to know.
....Careers in both technology and history are other reflections of the contrasts in my personality. I’ve designed computers and been involved with a history museum. I would say the final way to illustrate the contrasts of my Gemini sign is my tastes in reading which mirror the genres I write in. Louis L’Amour answers the call to my western soul. And Anne McCaffrey, Barbara Hambly and E.E. Doc Smith encourage my flights of fantasy.

DEBBIE: Sounds to me like the perfect combination for some truly awesome stories.

LAURA: Yes, it does. What was your inspiration for Windmaster?

HELEN: When I needed a short story for a writing class, photographs of sailing ships taken during a vacation in New England provided the idea for Sea Falcon. Images of a tropical island and mountains that had lain hidden in my files gave me the ports of call. Add in some pictures of horses I sold and frames, and the fantasy Windmaster was born.

LAURA: Wonderful mental imagery! Pictures always help when trying to describe things in words. Debbie and I do that, too, for our stories. Let’s shift from setting to characters for a moment. What is your favorite characteristic or ability of your heroine, Ellspeth?

HELEN: She is a natural leader. The crew of Sea Falcon would die for her, and she would do anything to protect them, including giving up her ship.

LAURA: So, if you could use three words to describe this story, what would they be and why?

HELEN: Love conquers magic. As far as explanation. The practice of magic extracts a severe price on those who wield it. Even for one as powerful as the archmage Lord Dal, casting a spell while aboard a ship sailing in deep water means risking death. For Captain Ellspeth, to have magic means giving up her ship, her crew, and the sea. Beyond that I won’t say more without a spoiler alert.

LAURA: “Love conquers magic.” (sigh) So very romantic.

DEBBIE: Ah yes, there is always a price for using your gift. At least that’s what I’m told, lol.
Can you share with us any upcoming stories or releases?

HELEN: With two releases, 2012 portends to be a wild, roller coaster ride. Coming in June from Burst Books, Windmaster Legacy—more of the tale of the silver-haired sea captain Ellspeth and the dark-haired archmage, Lord Dal.
....And a teaser to the even nearer future. Coming in May the romance fantasy, Dragon Destiny. The awakening of his dragon soul twin Llewlyn brought Branin the freedom of flight and near-eternal life, but not happiness. Both are the last of their kind and have waited millennia for their mates. The red-haired firebrand, Lady Broch of Ky’port is more than willing to fulfill that position—with or without Branin’s willing cooperation. When a faint thought impinged on Branin’s mind, hope for an ending to eons of loneliness soared. Plagued by doubts because no signs of a dragon shifter’s birth have been seen, Branin searches for the mysterious girl he only knows by the name, Anastasia. All that stands between their happiness is destiny—and Broch.

DEBBIE: Wow, sounds very exciting!

LAURA: Yeah, very cool! (nudges, Debbie) Okay, is it time? I sooo want to ask her our question and see if she can survive it! It’s a tough one for sure!!

DEBBIE: Helen, we like to as a whacky question at the end of our interviews. It’s kinda become our signature. LOL See Laura hopping up and down over there? She’s about to bust to ask ours to you. (turns to Laura) Sooo…go ahead, Laura. Ask away.

LAURA: WooHoo! Okay, Helen, here we go…
....You walk into a saloon and order a drink. Someone behind you says, “You ain’t from around here.” When you turn around, you find everyone in the bar is pointing a gun at you. All you have is a ballpoint pen and a Bic lighter. What do you do?

HELEN: Take a deep breath and gush, “Oh my god, it’s you. It’s really you. I was in the front row at the Fourth of July concert on the beach. I just loved how you performed Gary Owen.” And while the person is standing there confused, offer the pen to him. “Please sign my shirt,” and start singing whatever tune comes to mind. If he doesn’t knock you down, light the Bic and as you wave it like a drunken fan at a rock concert, back out of the room still singing.

DEBBIE: LMAO, now that’s original, what do you think Laura? Does she survive?

LAURA: WOW! That is original. I say she gets extra point for no one getting hurt and double points for the use of fire! Bonus points for going karaoke in a crowd of strangers. LOL

DEBBIE: Awesome, thanks for talking with us, it’s been a great learning experience!

LAURA: Absolutely! Please come back with your next release. We’d love to have you back!

HELEN: Thank you for having me. It’s been fun.

Debbie: Okay, Laura. How the heck do we get out of here?

Laura: No clue. But at least the dragon left. Though I suppose it could’ve given us a lift outta here…if it didn’t eat us first. (glances around) And the storm is looking worse!

Debbie: I know! (whips out cell phone that, of course, has service in the middle of this fantasy world) “Hey Colin, Laura and I are in a bit of a jam here. Anway you guys can come rescue us?”

Colin: For you two, anything. I’ll get the coordinates from your cell and the guys and I will be there before you girls get yourself in any more trouble.

Debbie: (turns to Laura) Colin, Bobby, and the guys are on the way.

Laura: Woohoo! (gives Debbie a sly look) Seems like your magic spell that you said when we got here worked after all! Hey, maybe my spell did, too, and the guys will bring me some coffee!

Debbie: Since I wrote Colin, he knows better than to bring you coffee. BUT, I suppose you might stand a chance with Bobby since we wrote him together. I think he likes you better anyway since you let him go to the gun range and get lucky.

Laura: LOL (points) Look, there they are! And not a moment too soon…there’s that hooded guy out in the boat. How hasn’t his tiny boat swamped in this weather??

Debbie: I don’t know. I don’t want to know! Ever since we used his service in the interview with Shelia Stewart, he’s been dogging us. Gives me the creeps. (looks up) Oh my, Zeke is repelling down to us. Look at those thighs, that firm as—, um butt! Lets go!

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BLURB:

....Windmaster is a romance-filled, action-packed fantasy described by readers as a fascinating story that will keep you up all night turning the pages. Revenge set Ellspeth, captain of Sea Falcon, on the path to her destiny, but prophecy controlled the journey. Despite his insolent attitude, she is attracted to the dark-haired dockworker she hires to help unload the vessel’s cargo. When the supposed dockhand reveals he is Lord Dal, the last member of the Council of Wizards, and her passenger, Ellspeth breaks a cardinal rule—fraternizing with the paying customers. Bringing him back from near-death releases Ellspeth’s latent powers and threatens her captaincy. For to have magic she must give up the sea.
....Dal has his own reasons for Ellspeth to embrace her powers. In accordance with an ancient prophecy, Dal allows Ellspeth to be handfasted to him without her knowledge or consent. However, the prophecy doesn’t state whether she will return his love. A likelihood threatened as the deception is unveiled and Dal is captured and stripped of his powers by fanatical clerics bent on ridding the world of magic and those who wield it.
....Trapped within the Oracle’s Temple and marked for sacrifice, Ellspeth must choose between her own survival, saving the future of magic... or love.

EXCERPT:

....Heavy sheets of rain obscured the horizon. Crashing waves broke on the Falcon’s bow and flowed over the deck. Ellspeth’s summons brought the three passengers to the wheel. “This isn’t normal weather for the Aberden Sea,” Ellspeth shouted. Her voice barely rose above the roaring water. “The wind is chasing around in circles, widdershins. It’s not natural.”
....“No, it’s magic,” Dal shouted back. “Voan and Jesmen are healers. Their powers can’t help.”
....“Then, m’lord, m’lady, thank you for your attendance. Your quarters ll be the safest place for you right now.” Ellspeth’s eyebrow arched in question as Dal made no attempt to leave.
....“With your permission, Captain, I’d like to stay. I promise to keep out of the crew’s way. Unlike the others, I’m used to fighting.” Too focused on saving her ship to wonder at the relief she felt at the wizard’s offer, Ellspeth merely nodded approval. She moved aside to make room for him at the rail, their shoulders almost touching.
....A long silence started to grow. Wind-driven rain grabbed at their clothes and plastered wet hair to their heads. Ellspeth started as Dal laid a hand on her shoulder. His long arm pointed just off the Falcon’s starboard rail. “Look over there!”
....Ellspeth’s gaze followed the wizard’s gesture. Before her eyes, one of the thick walls of rain twisted into a circle. The revolving column sucked water skyward, throwing it high into the air. Faster and faster it rotated. In seconds its color changed from the light gray of a cloud-filled morn to the black thunder-filled summer storm. A second column formed alongside the first—then a third—then a fourth. Desperately Ellspeth searched for a path away from the danger. “Can you do anything?” she yelled at Dal. “If one of those spouts hits the ship, it’ll swamp us.”

Guest Interview with Cornelia Amiri

Debbie: Good morning everyone. Today we are visiting with Cornelia Amiri. We are meeting today in our Cyber Tombs and since Cornelia's story involves them, we wanted to check these tombs out. I gotta say this is almost as creepy as the trip to the underworld.

Laura: First, Deb, I have to say how awesome you look with that tan you got from Key West. And I think that tarpin looks fantastic over your desk!

Debbie: You mean the minnow you tried to use as bate, uh huh.

Laura: Pft. Bait. Yeah, if we were trying to catch a killer whale or great white shark. So, anyway, Cornelia has written an awesome Celtic paranormal romance entitled, The Prince of Powys. And I have to agree, this place is pretty creepy. Hey…what’s this do? (pulls lever) Ooo, a secret passage! Let’s go inside!

Debbie: Ummm, I'm not going in there. It's dark and full of cobwebs, which mean spiders and GHOSTS. Nope I'll wait right here for Cornelia.

Laura: Did she say she was meeting us outside? I mean, this is a story about exploring tombs. How do you know she’s not inside waiting for us? And look, I happen to have two flashlights right here. (flicks them both on and hands one to Debbie) I know you have a bigger sense of adventure than this! And seriously, I doubt there are any ghosts or hooded guys asking for coins. We’ll be perfectly safe…so long as we stay together.

Debbie: Okay, fine. But if some big portal opens and sucks you through, don't expect me to go after you. Especially armed with only a FLASHLIGHT!

Laura: Wow, it is dark down here. Wait…what is that big stone thing over there near the wall?

Debbie: You mean that alter that has been used for sacrifices for who knows how long? I swear, if anything jumps out at us, I’m gonna throw you up on that stone slab myself!

Laura: Nothing’s gonna— What was that? (spins around)

Debbie: It’s Cornelia. Thank God she found us.

Laura: Yeah…but how did she find us down here? (glances around) Think there’s another secret passage around here that she used?

Debbie: You really need a keeper, woman. And no, I’m not taking the job!

DEBBIE: Good morning, Cornelia. Thank you for joining us here, I think.

LAURA: Great to see you, Cornelia. Yeah, Debbie was getting a little freaked by the whole tomb thing, I think. She used to have a great tan…but she’s looking a bit pale at the moment.

DEBBIE: Just wait. I hope the next interview is in the underworld or even better a place where coffee never existed! HAH! Who’d be whining then?

LAURA: Impossible! Coffee exists in every universe, just like chocolate. (shifts flashlight to guest) So, Cornelia, your book, The Prince of Powys, looks wonderful. How did you come up with such an interesting title?

CORNELIA: The hero in the book is the youngest son, a prince of Powys and most of the story takes place in Powys. (Pow–is) I thought the title was catchy.

LAURA: I agree, very catchy. Have you ever been in a tomb?


CORNELIA: No, but I written a lot about tombs, and I’ve done some research on them. Branda searches for a treasure in dusty tombs in The Prince of Powys.

DEBBIE: I can honestly say that exploring tombs is not on my bucket list, lol. What was the inspiration for this story?

CORNELIA: I read in the Anglo Saxon Chronicles about the 8th century Saxon War Lords Ethelbald of Mercia and Cuthred of Wessex fighting each other and how they both fought the Welsh. The Welsh king they fought was Elisedd of Powys whose grandson built a monument to him that stands to this day. I was intrigued by this great Welsh King. Also I worked at a call center customer service job with a co-worker named Farah, her personality, so perky and cute, inspired the character of Branda.

LAURA: Have you ever been to Egypt?

CORNELIA: No. I did recently attend the King Tut exhibit at the Museum of Fine Art in Houston and I saw an exhibit there years ago on Cleopatra. That’s the closest I’ve been to Egypt. I’ve done a lot of research on Egypt. I’d love to go there.

LAURA: I haven’t been there either, but it’s on my bucket list. Right along with Machu Picchu and Fiji.

DEBBIE: Nope, I want to see too much of the U.S. first, lol. When did you start writing?

CORNELIA: I’ve been writing professionally since 2001 when my first book The Fox Prince was published, it has now been revised to a book titled The Celtic Fox and is on Amazon. So that was about eleven years ago.

DEBBIE: Good for you! That’s awesome!

LAURA: Very cool. Did you always want to be a writer...or perhaps a history teacher with a penchant for recovering missing artifacts?

CORNELIA: I’d love to be a history teacher who discovered ancient relics on the side by writing about history and ancient artifacts but I probably reach more people to share information about history through writing about it then I would in a classroom.

DEBBIE: Probably so. It’s amazing the things you pick up through reading. Of course with what Laura and I write, I’m not sure we’d want people learning how to be serial killers or demon slayers. Although a good demon slayer might come in handy. Any favorite authors?

CORNELIA: Many, too many to name, but among authors of Celtic/historical/fantasy novels I love books by Morgan Llewellyn, Jules Watson, Manda Scott, and Marion Zimmer Bradley.

DEBBIE: Awesome, new names to look into!

LAURA: Switching gears here…. Do you have any hobbies, pets?

CORNELIA: I love to read, of course. I love to hang out with my son and my seven year old granddaughter. I love to eat with friends at restaurants. I love researching history. I love listening to Celtic music. I love petting and playing with my cat, Severus.

LAURA: That all sounds so wonderful! And I bet it keeps you busy, too. I’ve got three cats, and if yours is anything like mine, they love to sit in your lap while you work.

DEBBIE: Do you have a most embarrassing moment you'd like to share with us? Promise we won't tell. (snickers to Laura...)

CORNELIA: Well while wearing a first century AD Celtic costume, basically a wrapped around plaid skirt tied with a rope belt, I was carrying some of my books to a Celtic Christmas festival to sign and sell. The wind was real strong and I had to walk up stairs with my hands full. The wind whipped my skirt up over my head, you sometimes can find photos on the web of men in kilts having this happen to them. Stuff happens. What can you do? I recently found a way to slip that into a novella I’m working on, though it happens to my hero in a kilt rather than the heroine, but she’s watching when it occurs. Very observant that heroine of mine. We all know what real men wear under their kilts.

LAURA: (snort) Well, it ain’t ladies underpanties, that’s for sure. LOL


DEBBIE: My gramps was Scottish, he wore a kilt, but I’m going to pretend there were boxers under his.

LAURA: What about new stories? Any new WIPs or up-coming stories you want to tell us about?

CORNELIA: I’m working on two Steampunk/Romance novellas and a Celtic/Vampires Romance like the one that recently came out with EC, Dance of The Vampires.

DEBBIE: Now they sound interesting especially the Celtic/Vampire one. There’s something sexy about Vampires. I can only imagine a Celtic one.

LAURA: Wow, Celtic vampire? That sounds interesting. (nudges Deb) So, is it time?

DEBBIE: At the end of our interviews, we usually ask an off-the-wall question, lol

LAURA: Right! Sooo… Do you want me to ask her or do you want to this time?

DEBBIE: You go take a snooze on that stone alter over there, and I’ll ask Cornelia our question.
....Okay, you're on the Nile, your boat has run aground and is filling with water quick. Hungry crocodiles are heading toward, waiting for a tasty treat. What do you do?

CORNELIA: What a great action scene. If I was a character in a Steampunk Romance, I’d open my parasol and switch on the propeller function so it would spin and lift me off the ground like a helicopter. Or again, if I was a character in a book, I could always chant an Egyptian spell and call on the crocodile God Sobek to keep the crocodiles away so I can swim safely to shore.

LAURA: Oh, wow! Both of those are great answers. Love the parasol flying you to the shore. LOL If I had one, I’d use it all the time! I say you survived it! Debbie?

DEBBIE: LMAO!!!!! I’m sorry, folks, but all I’m seeing now is Laura floating around in the sky like Mary Poppins.

LAURA: Hey, she was probably the very start of the steampunk genre and no one even realized it! Sadly though, I can’t sing or dance like Ms. Poppins. (hangs head and sighs) I’m afraid the penguins would even out-do me!

DEBBIE: Penguins? Not even going there. Thank you for dropping by and entertaining us today, Cornelia, we’ve had a blast!

LAURA: Yes, thank you so much for dropping by, Cornelia. Hope to see you back with your next release! This one has been a great fun! (flashlight flickers and Laura smacks it a few times) Oops. Oh, there’s the light. Wow, that was too close. Wouldn’t want to be standing here in the pitch dark. (looks around) Wait, where did Cornelia go?

Debbie: Probably through the portal I mentioned earlier. We need to go now! There aren’t bats down here are there? I can handle most anything but bats and snakes, don’t like snakes either.

Laura: Bat’s don’t bother me too much. Snakes? Um, yeah don’t care for them too much.

Debbie: (shivers) You feel that cold breeze?

Laura: Whoa. Yeah, it’s like the temperature just dropped fifty degrees! (glances around) Oh my God….Deeebbbie…What is that?

Debbie: That’s a mirror you fool. Just your reflection, sheesh. Oh, but hey, what’s that stepping out of it?

Laura: I think it’s that hooded guy. How did he find us?

Debbie: Probably through the damn coin you gave him the last time. Maybe he just wants another coin to guide us out of here

Laura: Do you have any more coins? Cause I don’t.

Debbie: Sure, cause I carry around his special shiny coins just for the heck of it. (digs in pocket) What about this gold band I no longer have use for. Think he’ll take it for collateral?

Laura: Throw it at him and let’s get the heck outta here!

Debbie: (tosses ring) See ya on the flip side, dude. (runs, hoping Laura is behind her)

To be continued…..



BIO:
....Cornelia Amiri is the author of over a dozen books. Ten Celtic/Paranormal/Romances: The Prince of Powys, The Wolf and the Druidess, Druid Bride, Queen of Kings, Timeless Voyage, A Fine Cauldron of Fish, The Celtic Prince, The Scottish Selkie, The Celtic Vixen, and Druid Quest, as well as a contemporary/romance Peace Love Music. She also has three Steampunk/Romances written under her pen name of Maeve Alpin. She lives in Houston Texas as does her son and granddaughter.



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BLURB:
....In an age of heroes, Branda, a Saxon princess helps Blaise, a Prince of Powys, escape her father’s stronghold. In turn, he vows to escort the princess to her sister in Scotland so she can escape an arranged marriage. Instead, he holds her captive as his hostage in the unbreachable hill fort of Dinas Bran, where she captures his heart. Will Blaise be forced to throw away his honor for love or to tear out his heart for honor?

EXCERPT:
....“The tombs?” Branda cocked her head. “With the dead?” She nibbled on her fingernails.
....“Come, I’ll show you.” Leri walked at a brisk pace while Branda made every effort to stay right behind her.
....Branda took a deep breath as they approached the tombs. She followed Leri down a set of stairs hewn from stone ages ago. As she moved slowly down the steep steps, her chest vibrated with a mix of zeal and doubt. When they reached the bottom, Leri pushed aside a thin cobweb wall.
....“I hope there are no spiders.” A layer of dust coated Branda’s tongue and clung to the back of her throat. She coughed.
....Leri pulled a piece of flint and a hunk of steel from the pouch belted to her side. She struck flint with steel until it sparked and lit the torches, set in sconces on the rock wall. They cast light into the darkness but also caused large, looming shadows. Leri grabbed one of the torches. Branda placed her hands on Leri’s shoulders as they moved as one into the dark, damp bowels of the mountain.
....Branda’s heart hammered. She peered over Leri’s shoulder as they walked warily down a long tunnel. Huge standing stones formed an eerie line at the end of the gloomy passage.
....“The blocking stones,” Leri said. “Come.” She squeezed through a small space between two of the tall, hard stones.
....Leri held the torch steady as Branda followed. A dank, mildew stench seeped through the rocks. Branda craved fresh air but she had to find this treasure. Leri swung her foot forward but found nothing there because the ground was uneven. She stumbled forward and Branda let out a sharp scream as she fell with her. Leri managed to fall so that she held the torch upright. It still blazed. Branda, who landed on her rump, slowly pulled herself to her feet and then offered Leri a hand.
....As Leri shone the torch upon the floor they saw a step eroded with time. Leri walked with a limp, having scraped her hip on the stone floor. Branda’s legs felt shaky but they moved on across the gravel floor, past long-standing stones. The torch still burned brightly.
....Leri stopped and inhaled deeply. “This is the forecourt.” Holding the brightly burning torch as Branda gripped her other hand, she followed the stone walls to the end of the passage.
....The murky hall opened into a long corridor. At a scurrying sound, Leri squeezed Branda’s hand tightly.“Rats, I think,” Leri gasped.
....Each high-pitched rodent squeak made Branda jump inside, but she fought her fears. She had to find Bran’s treasure. It was her fate. She scanned the tunnel, which housed four large chambers: one south, east, west and north, with several smaller tombs in between. Standing stones blocked the entrance to each chamber.

Guest Author Claire Applewhite

Debbie: So....Welcome everyone. Today we are joining Clair Applewhite in our Cyber bar to talk about her release Candy Cadillac
....Laura, just follow me and try not to embarrass yourself. I know this isn’t your usual scene.

Laura: Nope. Give me a Starbucks and I’m good. Where do I sit?

Debbie: Sigh...not the coffee again. Right there on the bar stool. It spins so try not to fall off

Laura: Whoops! Yeah, it does

Debbie: What did I say?

Laura: Well, stop laughing at me and help me up! Oh look! A bowl of nuts!

Debbie: *Big eye roll.* Takes one to know one.

Laura: What was that?

Debbie: I said, help yourself to some. *Turning away* Bartender, I’ll have a Bloody Mary and a Long Island Ice Tea for my friend here.

Laura: Ooo...tea sounds good! Thanks, Deb.
Debbie: You’re so welcome, Laura. (Shh....Don’t tell her there are about four shots in it. She thinks it’s a plain iced tea.) What time are the hubby’s expecting us back?

Laura: Whenever. Mmm, this tea is yummy.

Debbie: Isn’t it? Oh, here comes Claire.

LAURA: Hey, Claire! So glad you’re here to visit with us and share the details on your latest book.

DEBBIE: Hi, Claire. Would you like something to drink before we start?

CLAIRE: I’ve got to get back to the keyboard. Coffee it is.

Debbie: Well, all righty then. Let’s grab Claire her coffee and head over to a table, so we can talk.

Laura: Coffee??

Debbie: Nooo. You need another iced tea. *Grabs Laura’s arm and drags her toward table* Here you go, Claire. So, tell us, how did you get started writing?

CLAIRE: I have been writing since the second grade, when I wrote my first “novel.” It was really a short story gone haywire. I stayed up all night writing it because I wanted to know the ending. It was the first time I remember being really excited about homework. I was seven years old. That should have been my first clue about what I should do for an occupation, but it wasn’t. Sadly, I spent years in “practical” desk jobs, filling out paperwork, wondering why I felt so empty.

DEBBIE: Hmmm, I’m still stuck at that practical day job. Good for you!

LAURA: Oh, wow. I can relate to that. Sometimes we take the safe route before we take that leap. Glad you did. Candy Cadillac looks wonderful. So, what was your inspiration for this story?

CLAIRE: Again, as a senior in college, I wrote a short story a few months before I graduated. It concerned a medical student’s trepidation about his career choice and was entitled “On Call.” A faculty member at St. Louis University and several classmates encouraged me to expand it into a novel, but again, I didn’t do it. Twenty years later, while cleaning out my files, I found that story. I reread it and thought, “This story might help someone else.” I began to play around with the words, and the plot and the characters. That story became The Wrong Side of Memphis,” my first mystery novel, published in 2009.

DEBBIE: Wow, twenty years. That is so great that you found it and turned it into a success. Without giving away any spoilers, could you tell us a little bit about the story?

CLAIRE: It is the story of a Vietnam vet turned PI, who has lost everything. When his wife leaves him in the first chapter, he turns to his only friend, another ‘nam vet, his best friend’s widow, Di Redding, now living in St. Louis. He decides to stay with her for a while, but as soon as he arrives, a prominent businessman is murdered in her apartment building. He ends up staying and working a lot longer than he anticipated.

DEBBIE: Interesting premise. Oh, excuse me a second Claire. Laura? Is that your third iced tea, honey?

LAURA: Maybe. They’re very tasty.

DEBBIE: Maybe you should slow down on them a little? *Turns to Claire.* Is there a romance in this story?

CLAIRE: Yes, there is. Elvin Suggs still loves his soon to be ex wife, though she has treated him badly. Other romances in other characters’ lives fill the book as well. However, they are not presented in the tradition of a romance novel, I don’t believe. This book, as well as the others in the ‘nam noir series, is a mystery novel, but the characters very much want to love and be loved.

DEBBIE: I think that is something we all have in common, wanting to love and be loved.

LAURA: Actually, our heroine in Sins of the Mind felt exactly the same way. After years of therapy due to a brutal rape, she finally reaches the point where she wants to reconnect with the world, to take a chance on love. It was really tough writing about her emotions in regards to what happened to her. What was the most difficult part of writing this book for you, Claire?

CLAIRE: Dredging up the painful memories that comprise my plot and characters. Sometimes the things that come out of their mouths astonish me. Then I have to decide whether to leave it in or delete it. I usually leave it right where it is.

DEBBIE: LOL, I love when our characters surprise us. We have one in Sins of the Mind who’s a bit of a jerk. One of those guys you love to hate, so we decided to keep him in the next book in the series. Didn’t we, Laura? Laura?

LAURA: Right here. We ran out of nuts, so I got another bowl. 
....So, Claire, how much life experience goes into your characters. Are they people you know or made up?

CLAIRE: Again, my books are almost entirely garnered from life experience—not necessarily mine, however. I like to advertise for anonymous stories in the classifieds, which I have no trouble collecting. I did this to write St. Louis Hustle, the story set at the Coral Court Motel, a local no-tell motel. As for characters, I take the strongest characteristics from 3-5 people I know and blend them into a new person. Usually results in quite a character.

DEBBIE: Where did you come up with the idea to post in the classifieds for people’s stories and how is that working for you.

CLAIRE: I have noticed this type of advertisement in the classified ads for other things, such as people wanting to meet people who survived a similar experience or suffered from a similar disease. I thought, why not experiment with Coral Courts' patrons? It was wildly successful, so much so that I have enough material for a series if I really wanted to pursue one. It works well because you can live the experience through the eyes of one who has.

DEBBIE: Advertising in the classifieds for plot lines. That is genius!

LAURA: Yes it is! And I bet you get lots of responses. I hear a lot of authors listen to music to help their creative flow…or maybe they listen to block out the chaos around them? lol What about you? Do you listen to music when you write, if so what type?

CLAIRE: No, I don’t listen to any music while I write. The characters are talking.

DEBBIE: I can certainly understand that.

LAURA: Yeah, some people—er, I mean characters yap so loud, even music can’t drown ‘em out. So, let’s switch gears to home life. Do you have any pets?

CLAIRE: Yes, I have two Airedale Terriers, “Hit the Road” Jack, and his half sister, Lola.

LAURA: Love those names! They sound like a playful pair.

DEBBIE: What do you do to relax?

CLAIRE: I play the piano—like to write music as well. I wrote the music and lyrics for the book trailer for Candy Cadillac.

DEBBIE: Oh, now that’s cool! I can’t wait to see it. Do you have any bad habits your willing to tell us about?

CLAIRE: I stay up way too late at night, usually writing, till about 2 a.m., and drink way too much caffeine. I’ve tried to write during the day, but the characters must be vampires because they just don’t talk until dark. As for the caffeine, I’m working on it—tomorrow.

LAURA: I’ve got that habit, too. I swear, the coffee calls to me…

DEBBIE: Okay, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but maybe right now coffee would be a good thing for you.
....Okay, Claire. Last question: Milkshake: Vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?

CLAIRE: Depends on the day!

DEBBIE: Ohhh, chocolate everyday!

LAURA: Milkshakes? Pft. I’ll take another ice tea!

DEBBIE: Oh shit! Her husband is going to be so mad at me. Claire, thanks for joining us it was a blast learning about you.

LAURA: Thank you so much for coming to talk with us, Claire. We wish you the very best in sales and please, come talk to us again about your next release.

DEBBIE: Yes, Claire, it was a pleasure talking to you about your new release. I've posted the blurb, excerpt and a link below.

Laura: Waiter! *Waves hand in the air.* Another round over here!

Debbie: Now, Laura!



BUY LINK

BLURB:
....Mistaken identity or delicious deception? Sultry blonde Barbara Lacey saunters into the Night and Day, a St. Louis bar, where she waits hours to deliver a mysterious envelope to a man that never appears. She reluctantly entrusts it to bar owner Alfie Greenblatt, and steps into the alley. Moments later Alfie hears the crisp pop of a bullet. He calls Sergeant Reggie Combs to investigate.
....Was Barbara's death an accident, or murder? Helen Tattaglia approaches her neighbors Elvin Suggs and his partners Cobra Glynes and Dimond "Di" Redding of the Grapevine Detective Agency. She hires them to trail her "abusive" husband; she also suspects her in-laws, who live across the street, have arranged for her murder.
The detectives are skeptical but they accept the case. They soon discover Helen's sordid past, including another woman named Barbara Lacey. Frustrated with the case, Detective Reggie Combs turns to his friends at the Grapevine Detective Agency for help.
....The shady dealings of the Tattaglia family begin to unravel, while they reveal the secret in the envelope.

EXCERPT:
....The Grapevine Detective Agency Cobra lived for his past. He used to be a Marine sniper—one of the best. Was, and always would be. Now, stress and flashbacks haunted his present, and tonight—well, it nearly killed him. He stumbled into the tiny bedroom.
....Nestled in the center of the brick bungalow, it possessed the ambiance of a tomb. He snatched a prescription bottle from the nightstand drawer, and gulped two pills without water. There. For the fifty-seven year old vet, the silence felt golden. A date with Valerie Gains always sapped his strength, and what little money he had. He didn’t trust her, but for Cobra, trust was just a word, and a highly overrated one at that.
....His roommates, Elvin Suggs and Di Redding, advised him to look for “a lady with a future.” Not a bad plan in Cobra’s book, but if ’nam taught him one thing, it was this: plans could change, and usually did. All he knew was, when his plans met Valerie Gains, everything changed. According to Di, Valerie’s dope habit, together with the guys she saw on the side, made Val “unstable.” For once, Elvin agreed with her.
....Though Cobra didn’t want to admit it, they were probably right. Di was a mighty good nurse, and Elvin…well, after Cherie, he knew what “unstable” looked like, shore ’nuf. He fumbled beneath his bed and grabbed a half empty bottle of Jim Beam. A smudge tainted the only glass on the nightstand; a smashed ant might even be lying in the bottom.
....Right now, he didn’t care. His quarrel with Valerie nagged like a whining smoke alarm. Now, his friends at the Grapevine Detective Agency needed him. He settled into the double bed and closed his eyes. This job stood between this lonely room and his former life, living hand to mouth on the streets of St. Louis. Good thing they needed him. Truth was, he needed them even more.
....The shot crackled like an explosion, next to the tiny house. He slumped on the sagging mattress, and peeled the thin curtain from the paned window. The low hum of the furnace marked the seconds. What time was it? Condensation dripped from the glass onto the crackled paint on the sill.
....Cobra stared into the murky shadows and listened; and then listened some more. He definitely heard a gunshot. Rubbing his forehead, he tiptoed through the kitchen into the living room. He heard them all—angry voices of at least two men, arguments, and threats. Cobra sensed they were staying in the house next door; the one with the neighbors that never talked.
....He crept to the wide living room window and peered through the frosted glass, just in time to see the long black Cadillac speed from the curb. Driving rain flooded the narrow street. Tires squealed and the driver sped off into the night. Cobra ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin. Should he visit the house next door? He shook his head.
....What was he thinking? He didn’t know those people. Besides, they probably wouldn’t want his kind of help. His partner, Elvin, would pound on their thick front door and stick his nose right into their business. Shore nuf, he’d insist. But, he wasn’t Elvin, and he did care about making a fool of himself.
....The incident still bothered him. Where he came from, bullets weren’t acceptable sound effects. At the sound of the phone, his throat constricted. The tightness in his chest surged. He needed to relax. That old anxiety thing again, he told himself. When he picked up the receiver, no one answered. Alone in the darkness, Cobra heard shallow breathing.
....The line buzzed like a hornet. “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and dial the operator,” the recording blurted through the static.
....Cobra hung up the receiver and poured another glass of whiskey. He’d call Jim Beam.
....Thursday, 11:45 p.m. The Night and Day Lounge One glance and Alfie’s heart sank. An hour ago, jokes and music filled the room. Now, the empty space reeked of stale smoke. Slick grease hung in the air. Alf could taste it—Ugh. Ashes and cigarette butts spilled from orange plastic ashtrays, and glasses, mostly empty, littered the tables. Crumpled napkins and bits of paper nested in soiled tablecloths. The drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet pounded a sink.
....The Night and Day Lounge needed Alfie Greenblatt, and Alfie needed a job. Nights like tonight he turned a few bucks into a week’s pay. Alf bet Ed Sullivan couldn’t do any better. The smallish man idolized Ed Sullivan. Even looked a bit like him, somewhere around the chins.
....Good thing the place made money, and lots of it. Jeez, would you look at this place? Time to close, get a drink. Wait a second. Who’s the blonde in the corner? Well, he guessed he could wait. He didn’t need to close just yet, not with this mess. Not with that blonde in the corner.
....He remembered her now—raspy voice, scarlet nails. “Old-fashioned. Extra cherries on the side, please?”
Would you look at this place? Tonight’s crowd left early; they must be tired. Tired of calling strange numbers that never picked up—or worse, talking to a recording that promised to call back, but never did. Alf considered the trash, the drunks, and the quick-talkers, ready to close up, same as him. He would this very minute, except for blonde in the corner.
....He watched her for a while, and still, he didn’t understand. She didn’t touch the drink, except to grip the tumbler, the condensation slipping between her fingers. She wasn’t a bad looking gal, even if she was a little on the chunky side. Nothing wrong with broad hips. He knew plenty of guys who liked that in a woman, same as those cheekbones—and don’t forget that blonde hair.
....That’s what grabbed ’em every time. Alfie noticed that. Alfie had to admit, he never heard a woman order a drink like this lady. What did she say her name was? “Barbara. Call me Barbara,” she’d said in a voice so soft he could barely hear it.
....She stared into his eyes with a steady gaze when she spoke, and her moist lips quivered. “I’d like an old-fashioned, extra cherries. Oh, and orange slices too, if you don’t mind.” She tossed a tense half-smile in his direction and just as quickly, looked away into the shadows.
....This Barbara was a hummingbird on a high wire. Nervous type, he guessed. This had been, oh, a couple of hours ago now. Guys packed the joint. Plenty stopped at her table. Yet, none stayed. None snagged her interest. Alfie noticed that, too. All night, her red fingertips gripped that tumbler.
....Condensation dribbled on the scratched tabletop. “Hey, Barbara!” he said. “You okay?”
....Alfie wiped his hands on a striped dishtowel. For a moment, he thought he spotted a tear on her cheek. With a slight glance over her broad shoulder, she rose. She snatched her purse, a dangling black leather piece she pressed to her body. Now, she turned to leave—the last one to go. Alfie shuffled to the deserted table. One faded old-fashioned, coming right up. The red stem from the scarlet cherry floated in the glass, ragged at the end from a careless bite. The droplets from the tumbler glistened beneath the dim lights.
....“Uh, mister?” Barbara stood at the front door. The red EXIT sign glowed above her head.
....“Yeah?” Alfie considered the blonde, her gloved hand poised on the grimy doorknob. “Look lady…uh, Barbara, is it? I’d like to go home sometime tonight, you know?”
....Alfie knew he sounded impatient. He didn’t mean to, but, jeez, the type of people he got through here these days… Barbara extended her hand. Her long fingers clutched an obscure treasure. What is this? Alfie began to sweat. What does she want from me?
....“I…I waited all night, but he never came,” she murmured.
....Alfie squinted into the shadows. “What did you say?”
....“If he comes, could you give him this?”
....The jaundiced light revealed a crinkled manila envelope, sealed with tape. “Look, lady…”
....The blonde checked her watch. “You seem like a nice man, mister. I tried to give it to him myself. But, I’ve got to go now. I should have been there half an hour ago.” Barbara thrust the envelope into Alfie’s calloused hands and pushed her way into the brisk night air.
....“Where you going, lady? Who’s the lucky guy, anyways?” Without a word, she trotted along the cracked sidewalk. Neon signs glistened in her platinum hair like jewels in a tiara.
....The glow of a winter moon peeked through the clouds of the night. The narrow street looked lonely. For a moment, Alfie stood in the frigid night air, and watched her vanish into the darkness. He retreated to the warm bar. His thick fingers clutched the envelope. What should he do with it? Well, whatever it was, it couldn’t be very important. A person didn’t trust a stranger with valuable stuff. He wouldn’t. Alfie strode to the cash register and opened the drawer.
....For a second, he wanted to open the envelope, but decided against it. What did he care anyway? He shoved it into the cold cash register and locked the drawer. He felt too exhausted to care. Its owner would either show up…or not. He snatched his coat from the cramped back room, and slammed the door behind him.
....Then he heard it—the crisp pop of a gunshot. If that wasn’t a bullet, he wasn’t Alfie Greenblatt. His heart pounded like a jackhammer. His pace quickened. Heaving, he strode in the opposite direction. He knew he should have brought the car tonight, but just yesterday, the doctor told him, “Alfie, you got to get more exercise.” The muscles in his legs cramped.
....His breath wafted in puffs, and the icy air forced him to cough. He reached the pitted door to his apartment, yeah, finally. His throat constricted. He tried to swallow, but he couldn't breathe. Was he choking, or getting sick again? Oh no, not again. He couldn’t afford that. No, he was just upset. Yeah, that was it. For some dumb reason, he felt nervous. Him, Alfie Greenblatt, nervous—over what? Alfie couldn’t put his finger on it. A silly note? Some weepy woman? A bullet? Yeah, most probably the bullet.
....He jammed the key into the old lock and turned. It was a good night to stay home