Give a warm welcome to Aletta Thorne, author of The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins.
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Aletta Thorne and her newest release, The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins.
I live in an old house that has ghosts in it, and I do believe in them. Now, I never had QUITE the experience that my heroine does (ahem), but I like our ghosts. They keep the place from feeling lonely—really! Also, I think the best ghost stories have a strong element of humor in them. I wanted to write a funny romance with ghosts in it. Ghosts and food. I used to be a chef myself.
What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same?
I think I am the pretty much same on the page that I am in person. I have always believed that fiction is a true lie—a story that didn’t actually happen but could have and maybe should have. My new book The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins comes from the best part of me: the part that is funny, loving, and uninhibited. The pieces of me I don’t like I left out of the story!
How long have you been writing?
This is my first “big-girl” romance, although I have been writing young adult books (under another name) for a while, and I’ve published poetry and articles about music and food since I was in my twenties (a long, long time ago). I started making up my own tales and rhymes when I was about seven. So let’s just say it’s been a million zillion years.
What do you want your readers to take away from your books?
I want my readers to lose themselves in my books and to be entertained and feel like they are in an exciting other world. And I want them to laugh and read the funny parts out loud to their friends. Also, I’d like it if they stayed up late reading and then had a really good night of rest except for a few slightly weird dreams…
Why do you write what you write? Contemporary, paranormal, suspense, etc.
I write paranormal romance, whether it is for a young adult audience (under another name) or for adults. Paranormal is where the magic is, and the author has a wand to wave! Who wouldn’t want a magic wand?
You’re exactly right! Give me that magic wand!
If writing is your first passion, what is your second?
Music: I sing, play dulcimer and guitar, and am part of a really good choir. And I also DJ on an internet radio station I run with my friends.
You’ve got a time machine, a cloak of invisibility, and one hour. Where would you go, and what eavesdropping would you do?
Great question! It actually sounds like the premise for some of the YA stuff I’ve written. I think I’d just take a walk down the main street of my Hudson River Valley town in maybe 1880, and see what it looked like, and listen to the way people were with one another. I imagine I could go somewhere and try to stop a war from happening, but from the time travel I’ve written and read, that doesn’t always turn out well!
So true. Thank you so much for answering my questions.
A Peek Between The Pages of The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins.
A ghost. Of course he was a ghost—even though before that night, she’d never felt anything spooky at her place in the almost-year she’d lived in it. Alma still had the plate with the omelet on it in one hand. Ghosts didn’t eat, did they? She held it out to him anyway.
“Go ahead and have your supper,” he said. “I don’t need food. I take it you understand why.”
Alma nodded, not sure what to say. For a ghost, the man looked rather … dashing, she decided was the world. He must have been muscular in life. There were nicely rounded biceps under that loose shirt, and they showed when he moved his arms. His knee knickers fit tightly over a flat belly, and his stockings made his calves look like they were made out of smooth, white marble. His eyes were a startling, luminous golden brown.
“Sadly, we are still perfectly able to smell a good meal cooking.”
“We?” Alma said.
The man nodded. “Your dead,” he said, solemnly.
“My dead?” she said.
“Well, you live here, don’t you? So, I’m your dead, now.” He stopped looking so serious then and as if guys in knee knickers and white stockings were born doing it, he opened her refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of Chablis. “Here, give me your glass,” he said, and topped it off. The glow from the refrigerator’s light made him even more luminous—and just the slightest bit translucent.
“Thanks,” she said, although it was her wine. She put her plate and glass down on a little enamel-topped kitchen table she’d bought at a local church thrift shop and pulled out one of the table’s funky old chairs for herself.
“Fork? Napkin?” he said, pulling those things out of the drawers next to Alma’s stove. Alma used cloth napkins from the restaurant supplier—big white ones.
“You know where my things are,” she said, spreading the napkin across her lap.
“That shouldn’t surprise you,” he said. “Eat your omelet while it’s hot. Go ahead.”
Alma took a bite. “Um, the pepper grinder on the stove?” she said. “Could you, please?”
“My lady.” He smiled and handed it to her with a little bow.
She ground a little pepper over her plate and took another bite and sipped her wine. He sat down across from her, put his elbows on the table, and his chin in his hands.
“I enjoy watching you eat.”
“Okay, I guess. It’s not … weird?”
A ghost is watching me eat an omelet. “What’s your name?”
“Bartholomew Addison Jenkins,” he said. “These days, I just use Bart.”
“These days. But you’ve been here since you…”
“Since 1784,” he said.
“Which was when you died, I guess.”
“I must tell you, dear lady, saying that to one of us is considered rude. In better ghostly circles, that is. Some of us are not aware we are dead. Some of us do not like to be reminded of it.”
Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Aletta Thorne, Holiday, mainstream romance, Paranormal Romance by firstname.lastname@example.org with 1 comment.
Today, one hopes that with age comes wisdom, maybe a gentler nature and understanding. This year my Mantra is Stay Positive, Believe in Yourself and Stay Motivated. A lot of people seem to be headed in the same direction, which to my thinking is a good thing!
A facebook post by Jacqueline Jayne, really hit home. I copied part of it and thought I’d save it, but alas, I am unable to find the original post which went something like this. To all my female friends of “age”…
Most of us are going through the next stage of our lives. We are at that age where we see the wrinkles, gray hair, extra pounds. We see the pretty 25-year-olds and sigh. But we were once 25 too, just like they will one day be our age. What they bring to the table with their youth and zest for life, we bring with our wisdom, experience and good hearts. For all we’ve been through earning each gray hair… raising kids, bills and ills and whatever else life brought you/us over the 30s, 40’s, 50’s, we are survivors… we are warriors… we are women. We’re like a classic car or fine wine — while our exterior may not be what it once was, it is traded for our spirit, our courage, and our strength to enter this chapter of our lives with grace and pride for all we’ve been through, accomplished and yet to accomplish!
Never feel bad about aging. It is a privilege denied to many. We are still here, we can make a difference.
I say way to go girl!
Today be Positive – First off, I gotta quit reading and watching the news. LOL Next, I can’t let negative thought or feelings drain my energy. Finally, it’s better to focus on all the good in my life, letting it guild my thoughts, feelings and words. In my thinking, if we all do our best to banish negativity to the outer edges of the universe, that should leave more room in the world for positivity. Don’t you think?
Today Believe in Yourself – Dare to Dream! These three words are written on the top of my pink laptop computer. This is why I am where I am today. I didn’t give up, rose to the challenge to become a published author. In this industry or just about any industry, it’s tough to maintain belief in yourself, especially when some are intent in tearing you down, but I’m determined to do it. How about you?
Today Stay Motivated. This was never a problem for me. I am a determined, motivated person with a very competitive spirit. Recently, I discovered that it’s all well and good, IF you don’t let it turn negative when you don’t get what you were after. Learn to roll with the punches, get up dust yourself off and say “I did my best” and be happy about it. This is my challenge. What is yours?
Remember you really only have three choices in life: Give up, give in, or give it all you got! I’m going to give it all I got. What will you do?
Posted in My Say What Blog and tagged Believe in Yourself, Stay Motivated, Stay Positive by email@example.com with 3 comments.
Give a warm welcome to S.A. Stolinsky, author of Hot Shot!
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about S.A. Stolinsky and her suspense, Hot Shot.
What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same? I think that everything you write is obviously a part of you or your subconscious.
What inspired this particular story? I have a wonderful friend who was brutally affected by addictions including gambling. He lost everything he had and then wanted changes implemented at the gambling houses—he became quite an advocate for anti-gambling.
What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block? I ask myself questions, such as “what would happen next? Sometimes I ask myself what each person/character would be doing during this particular scene.
What inspired you to write? I was always good at it, but it also allows me to calm down and create something from nothing.
How long have you been writing? Most of my life.
What do you want your readers to take away from your books? Humor and the idea that most problems can be overcome and will be overcome. I want them to see the humor in life and try to live their lives honestly and with a sense of you can throw a handkerchief into the air and let it fall where it may-type of feelings about most things.
If writing is your first passion, what is your second? Forensic psychology
What do you like to do when you are not writing? Go out to dinner with my husband and going to the movies.
What’s your favorite part of being an author? I’m never bored.
SPEED ROUND FOR A LITTLE ADDED FUN:
Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh>
Favorite movie: THE COUNTERFEIT TRAITOR
Favorite book: TOO MANY TO NAME, BUT ROBER PARKER FAVORITE AUTHOR
Last book read: All The Light You Cannot See
Favorite color: Blue
Stilettos or flipflops: Stilettos
Coffee or tea: Coffee
Ebook or audiobook or paperback: Paperback
Pencil or pen: Pen
Favorite song: The Last Rose of Summer
Streak or not: Streak
Favorite dessert: Chocolate cake
Favorite junk food: McD’s cheese burger with bacon, fries and a thick chocolate shake
Favorite thing to do to relax: Read
Champagne or gin: Neither any more
Paranormal or Historical: Historical
Wonder Woman or Top Model: Kate Moss
Favorite TV show: Law and Order
Hot or cold: Cold
POV: from the protagonist
I’d die if I don’t have: a Best Seller list book
Review or Not: Review
Thank you so much for being here. Now tells us a little about Hot Shot.
A Peek Between the Pages of Hot Shot:
Tyler pushed his long, blond hair back with one hand and slouched. He knew she found him attractive. “I’ll tell ya,” he began, hoping to make it last, keep her interested. “I pretty much need the start up money right now.”
Ah, too fast.
“Start up money? Now? You think I got a stash under my bed upstairs? We should go up and find out. My, my we’re in a hurry aren’t we?” Elsie pushed Tyler into an oversized easy chair covered with brown mohair. A black cat with white paws jumped off it as Tyler slammed down.
“Easy kid. That’s the trick. You don’t wanta look too desperate, know what I mean? Well, you are good lookin’ I’ll give you that,” she said. “What ya got there?”
Tyler gave her a certificate.
“Made this up on my computer. It kind of sells land.”
“Bullwhippie,” Elsie said as she tore up the certificate and put it in a glass ashtray on the glass coffee table. “The only thing that makes a lot of money fast is ass, kid.”
“One point five million?” Tyler asked.
“You’re good looking, but honey your ego’s getting away with you.”
Elsie sat in her chair, a plush, pink armchair with multicolor pink pillow and a foot stool in front. She leaned toward him.
“Listen, baby. This is just between you and me, got it? I’ve been a madam longer than I can remember. I work on the sly sometimes, and my parole officer comes around, but he don’t bother me. You know why?”
A still crestfallen Tyler looked at her.
“Because I got the goods on all those assholes, that’s why. I got the video. Don’t ever do porn without a video somewheres in the bedroom. Ya got me?”
Elsie continued without noticing. “I’ll never tell where I hid the original, but believe me I got plenty of copies. Got a friend on Grand that does the best photography in the city. I had a couple of tapes made and almost sold ‘em to TV—the porn sites. So I been thinkin’ real hard about how I can re-establish my rep. And here you come.”
Tyler finally opened his mouth but it was only to use his tongue to wet his lips, they felt parched and he was sure they would crack it he kept his mouth closed any longer.
“Yes, Ma’am,” was all he could think to say.
“I’m gonna start up the biggest whore house in the state, sonny. This time? With men. You know how much a good male hooker can make? Two thousand a night. Now—depending on your stamina…”
“Yeah, I get the picture,” Tyler said.
He wasn’t in to older women, but he had to admit, Elsie was beginning to look visibly younger with the excitement she was projecting. Some people love their work. Her gray roots were beginning to look more like silver blonde streaks and her smile was widening. Her teeth, perfect in what were undoubtedly caps, glistened.
“A male whore house. I don’t think it’s been done before,” Elsie repeated.
Elsie was spry for a woman her age, but she had become overweight and as Tyler checked out the flat, it looked like she’d just moved into the place. She no longer looked like a professional, but that was probably the point. On a small table next to Tyler there was a silver framed picture, a studio shot of a glamorous woman, her head tilted back, full makeup and blond hair, her fingers just touching her chin and a large, pearl necklace around her neck and thick jeweled bracelets on her wrists. Tyler realized it was an old shot of Elsie maybe forty years ago.
“Women in their eighties still masturbate, you know that?” Elsie asked noticing him admiring the photo. She looked like she might jot down his answer in an interview. “And what a shame that is when guys like you are just running around willy-nilly.”
“No, ma’am, never really thought about it,” Tyler said.
“You sure do look like your pa. He was a crafty one, but always good to my girls. You work out, huh? I got a boob job in my seventies. Hell, nothing stays up forever. They’re just starting to sag again now. Thinking about getting ‘em done again, so this is a good time we connected.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tyler wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want it to go much further.
“Thirty percent on my end,” she said.
“Huh?” Tyler realized his eyes had widened and tried to relax so he wouldn’t look so stupid.
“That’s a lot of money, Ma’am,” Tyler said, when the hole in his stomach shrunk slightly. “I mean I’m desperate, like you say, but that’s a big cut.”
“Listen, kid. A man looks like you, your age, your height, your…face, could make more than two thousand dollars a night, okay? It’s not gonna last forever, so you better grab it while ya can.
Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Gambling, Hot Shot, Poker, S.A. Stolinsky, Suspense by firstname.lastname@example.org with no comments yet.
Have a seat and grab an insulated mug. I’ve got hot chocolate, hot cider and coffee. Choose your pot, they’re labeled. Pick your choice of a Snicker-doodle, Chocolate Chip or Peanut butter cookie from the plate. Yep, I baked them myself. Lets find out a little about Loren and see what CrossTown is all about. Thanks for joining us!
I have a few questions for your Loren, lets start with what defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same?Always try to set the bar a little higher. Choosing when and where that is appropriate can be difficult, but I’d say it is the same as an author and as a person.
What inspired this particular story?A horror scene done badly made me want to write a scene I felt more appropriate. The story grew far beyond that, but that’s the first seed.
What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block?Work on more than one thing at a time. If you’re slowing on a project, turn to a different project.
Who is your favorite character of all of the books you’ve written and Why?The White Wolf and permutations of that character, the acerbic wolf-spirit, crop up again and again. That character archetype runs deep for me, obviously, so I’d probably say he’s my favorite.
What inspired you to write?I’ve loved stories and storytelling as long as I can remember. Eventually I had enough stressors I turned to writing as a release, and then it became something more.
How long have you been writing? Over 20 years.
Did you tell friends and family that you were writing a book? Or did it take a while to come out and tell friends and family you were a writer?I was through my first mss before I let anyone see a few of the first pages. After that I had a few regular readers.
Do you see yourself in your characters? Absolutely. Not just the main character. All those voices are facets of our own personality as writers.
What do you want your readers to take away from your books?The best fiction entertains and informs, enlarges our world to some extent. If I succeed there, I have succeeded completely.
Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down?I will jot down lines, images, ideas at any time of the day or night if it captures me.
Do you find it easier to write from a male or female point of view? Why? My main characters tend to reflect my perspective, within limits, so male is generally the primary point of view, but the world is a better place for having strong women in it, and so are stories, whether the main character or not.
Why do you write what you write? Contemporary, paranormal, suspense, etc. I write my interests, which tend to be history, mythology, and science and technology. F/SF is a natural follow on to that.
If writing is your first passion, what is your second? Martial Arts.
What do you like to do when you are not writing? Martial Arts, spend time with family, cook, motorcycle, read.
You’ve got a time machine, a cloak of invisibility, and one hour. Where would you go, and what eavesdropping would you do? It’s a where and when, of course—and such a tight timeline. I’d probably like to go back and see Stonehenge being built and used. Probably wouldn’t understand the language but could get a slice of insight into use and building techniques.
A peek between the pages of CrossTown:
Roads and streets run like veins and arteries through the beating heart of CrossTown. Each runs through all manner of distant and not-so-distant possibilities.
There’s a theory in modern physics that posits a universe for every decision we make. Each time we choose, right or left, high or low, vanilla or chocolate, we split into separate universes. A vanilla me here, a chocolate me there, a rocky road with pistachio me somewhere else, and some poor lactose intolerant me further down the line. The dominant me is my subjective reality. In CrossTown, the probable mes collapse into the dominant wave, but all those wandering Ways continually wash other alternate lives, lives meant to be lived in CrossTown, up on its jagged shores.
The names of roads are choices; the turning and branching of roads are choices; roads are physical manifestations of their builders’ decisions…
Everywhere, every place and every time where man or something like him has lived, roads run into one another, branch, disappear here and reappear over there as if they were quantum tunneling. They run, meet, part, cross again, and form a bewildering Mandelbrot set of linked probabilities.
Beware the road outside your front door, for it is both old friend and passing stranger.
All those choices, all hooked together, comprise a vast sea of possibility. A knowledgeable traveler can ride the currents in that sea to unimagined destinations…
CrossTown is the crossroads of probability.
Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged CrossTown, fantasy, Loren W. Cooper, Science Fiction by email@example.com with no comments yet.