Interview Ann Crawford Author of Fresh Off The Starship
Give a warm welcome to Ann Crawford, author of Fresh off The Starship!
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 Ann and Fresh Off The Starship. Pssst… Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway below! Ann Crawford will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
What defines you as an author? As a person? Are they one in the same?
What a great series of questions! My books are deep, high, and all points in between—plus very rich. They’re usually very funny, uplifting, and thought-provoking. I like to say that I’m a high-flying, deep-diving, world-traveling author…I can fly a plane(high) and go scuba diving (deep), and I’ve been to 70 countries (very enriching experiences). I also do improv, which means I’m good with taking risks and putting myself out there. So what defines me as a person and as an author are pretty much one in the same.
What makes you laugh out loud?
My husband. Every. Single. Day. He would’ve been George Harrison, the quiet Beatle. But he has an amazingly playful, offbeat sense of humor. His first wife didn’t get his jokes at all, just like my first husband didn’t really appreciate me in some ways, either—especially my laughing, which I do a lot and which my current husband adores. Well, we all can use a warm-up marriage…so when the really right one comes along, we can appreciate it even more.
Just FYI and a fun fact about us, we met through eHarmony and were engaged 2 days after we met. It was really love at first sight. That was 13 years ago and it’s only gotten better, deeper, higher, richer (there’s a theme here).
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?
When I first started writing a book, I practically shouted it from the rooftops. I’d wanted to be an author since I was a toddler and my mom read to me. She wanted to be a writer herself, but was very sick for years and died when I was a senior in college. I started out college as an English major, but then tried turning off that whole part of me. A few years after graduating with a degree in business (whaaaaaat?) I took a grief workshop. Through that amazing process, the block to being a writer was lifted, gone, vamoose. So when that desire came back and the first idea came flooding in, I was elated.
Do you see yourself in your characters?
Oh, yes. Every heroine has a LOT of me in her. And I have a lot of different kinds of heroines, to outright strong and powerful to loopy to droopy…so they show all sides!
What do you want your readers to take away from your books?
I love how books open new worlds and new ideas. I’d love readers to put my books down feeling happier from all that laughing, more in love with life, lifted up, romanced and in love, more powerful, and wiser.
SPEED ROUND FOR A LITTLE ADDED FUN:
Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh>
Favorite movie: Casablanca
Favorite book: The DaVinci Code
Last book read: The Awakening—Fate in Motion, by Suzanne Boisvert
Favorite color: watermelon pink
Stilettos or flipflops: flipflops
Coffee or tea: coffee
Ebook or audiobook or paperback: ebook
Pencil or pen: pen
Favorite song: “You’re the Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me”
Streak or not: streak
Favorite dessert: gooey chocolate cake with lots of vanilla buttercream icing and roses on top
Favorite junk food: those big, fat chocolate chip cookies you get at truck stops on road trips
Favorite thing to do to relax: sit on the balcony overlooking the ocean (on vacay)
Champagne or gin: champagne
Paranormal or Historical: either
Wonder Woman or Top Model: Wonder Woman
Favorite TV show: Grey’s Anatomy. Outlander if cable is allowed.
Hot or cold: hot
POV: any which way
I’d die if I don’t have: love
Review or Not: review
Tell us a little about Fresh Off The Starship!
Love to laugh? You’ll enjoy this feel-good tale.
A starbeing skyrockets to Earth from the other side of forever with a specific assignment: to help steer humanity away from the collision course it’s on. But we all know how travel can get drastically diverted–instead of landing in Washington, D.C., where she could assist on a grand geopolitical scale, she ends up in…Kansas!
Wrong place, right time? Join our shero on this whimsical journey as she pursues her purpose as well as discovers the beauty of life and love on Earth.
Buy link; Amazon
A peek between the pages of Fresh Off The Starship!
Ohhhhhhhh—what a strange place this is! Loud noises, awful smells, strange beings looking at me.
The woman struggles to lift her hand just a few inches off the bed, clearly shocked to see it. Oh. Right. I’m one of those strange beings now.
She stares up at the group staring down at her.
This is odd. Do humans just stare at each other?
“Well, you’ve had a very, very long journey back here,” the doctor says.
You’re not kidding.
“We should give you some time,” the doctor continues.
When can I go back in the other direction?
“Don’t push her,” the doctor emphasizes to the other three humanoids. “Give her lots of time and space.”
Time and space. Oh, you have no idea.
“Where am I?”
The group, obviously ecstatic that she can talk but dismayed by her question, turns to the doctor.
“Missy, yer in a hospital room. You had a terrible accident a few months ago, and we thought we lost you at one point. But yer a tough survivor and fought yer way back here.”
That’s truer than you know.
“Perhaps we should just let her sleep some more,” the doctor tells them. “That’s when most of the body’s healing takes place.” She ushers them out of the room. “Amnesia can be a strange, strange thing,” the doctor starts to say. “The brain—” But she shuts the door and the voices are muffled.
Ohhhhhhh, I have a feeling I’m not in the Andromeda galaxy anymore.
About the author:
I’m a fun-loving, world-traveling, high-flying, deep-diving, and living-to-the-max author of eight books. When I’m not flying planes, scuba diving, climbing every mountain (on the back of my husband’s motorcycle) or riding the world’s fastest roller coasters, you can find me in my writing nest with a view of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains out the window. I’ve lived all over–from both oceans white with foam, to the prairie, and now to the mountain. Yes, a little backwards, but what the hey.
My bestselling and award-winning novels go as high and deep as I do—they’re profound yet funny; playful although poignant; heart-opening and heart-lifting; thought-provoking and inspiring; and edgy while universal. I’m also a screenwriter and award-winning filmmaker and humanitarian.
Social Media & Book Links
Website
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00GMPORX8
https://www.facebook.com/anncrawfordauthorspeaker/
https://twitter.com/ann_crawford1
https://www.instagram.com/anncrawford509/
https://www.pinterest.com/anncrawfordauthor/
https://www.linkedin.com/in/ann-crawford-546053a/
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00GMPORX8
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7847944.Ann_Crawford
The book will be on sale for only $0.99.
It was wonderful having you with us today. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Fresh Off The Starship! Join the tour at Goddessfishpromotions. The more you comment at each tour stop, the better your chances to win!
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Ann Crawford, Fresh Off The Starship, Humor, Women's Fiction by Tena Stetler with 15 comments.
Interview with Jean Grant Author of Will Rise From the Ashes
Give a warm welcome to Jean Grant author of Will Rise From the Ashes released April 17, 2019. 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 Jean and Will Rise From the Ashes.
Tell us where your writing journey began and why you write across genres?
I began my writing journey in the Scottish middle ages. My first love has always been medieval romance (and yes, later, Outlander, ahhh Jamie Fraser). Castles and crags, warring clans and cultures, sweeping landscapes of mystery and moor, lairds and ladies, gallantry and greed. So much fun! After spending a good deal of time hanging out with my medieval heroes and heroines, I jumped ahead in time and wrote a contemporary novella (Soul of the Storm). At the same time, I delved into a contemporary women’s fiction story. Now I’m back finishing up a trilogy in historical Scotland. Jumping around through time and space…
Why do I write across genres? Simply put, I have diverse interests. Maybe too many? By writing different genres I feed various passions. Maybe I am too faceted, a bit scattered, and just write what my heart tells me. Going back and forth in editing between my brogue Scottish men and my modern voices can be tricky, but it keeps my brain sharp (and exhausted!). I also write in both first and third person.
Will I delve into another genre? Never say never. I’ve found my niche in historical (with paranormal elements) and contemporary romance, and women’s fiction.
Finding a thread. There is a central thread weaved into all my stories: journeys of hope, spirituality, and of course happy-ever-after. Or as I like to say: stories of heartache, healing, and hope. My women’s fiction usually has a romantic element, too. Even though I write across genres and sub-genres, I find that I home in on a central theme with each story. Each character has an emotional wound and backstory they must heal (in some way or another), and I always end with hope.
Now for the Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh rubbing my hands together with glee>
Favorite movie: The Princess Bride
Favorite book: Outlander
Last book read: Spirited Quest
Favorite color: Pink
Stilettos or flipflops: Neither
Coffee or tea: Coffee
Ebook or audiobook or paperback: All
Pencil or pen: (red) pen
Favorite song: Sleepwalk (Santo and Johnny)
Streak or not: yes!
Favorite dessert: anything
Favorite junk food: cheese (any!)
Favorite thing to do to relax: flower-garden
Champagne or gin: champagne
Paranormal or Historical: historical
Wonder Woman or Top Model: Wonder Woman
Favorite TV show: TWD
Hot or cold: Hot
POV: First
I’d die if I don’t have: taxes
Review or Not: Yes
Click on the cover to read more or purchase.
A little about Will Rise From the Ashes.
Living is more than mere survival!
Young widow AJ Sinclair has persevered through much heartache. Has she met her match when the Yellowstone supervolcano erupts, leaving her separated from her youngest son and her brother? Tens of thousands are dead or missing in a swath of massive destruction. She and her nine-year-old autistic son, Will, embark on a risky road trip from Maine to the epicenter to find her family. She can’t lose another loved one.
Along the way, they meet Reid Gregory, who travels his own road to perdition looking for his sister. Drawn together by AJ’s fear of driving and Reid’s military and local expertise, their journey to Colorado is fraught with the chaotic aftermath of the eruption. AJ’s anxiety and faith in humanity are put to the test as she heals her past, accepts her family’s present, and embraces uncertainty as Will and Reid show her a world she had almost forgotten.
Buy links:
Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes
A sneak peek between the pages of Will Rise From the Ashes.
A gray column of ash exploded on the screen. The plume darkened the sky.
“Mom, come look!” Will said, without turning from the TV.
She fidgeted with the mail on the kitchen counter. Then said a bad word. The metal trash lid clanged open, and she grumbled. He tapped a finger on his thigh as he listened to the newscaster.
A few minutes passed. “Mom…”
“One minute,” she called. He turned. She dragged the basket of dirty laundry from their vacation to Yellowstone down the basement steps. Thump, thump, thump.
“But it’s the volcano! On TV!” His pulse flickered. This was important. She needed to see.
“Hang on a sec, Will.”
The clock read 9:03 p.m. Eastern Time, but it still felt like Mountain Time and he wasn’t sleepy. He counted to one second. He knew she didn’t mean that. Her “a sec” or “a minute” could be way longer.
She returned from the basement and opened the window over the kitchen sink. The metallic, vibrating hum of the foghorn sounded in the distance. He rose and added a tally mark to the chart on his clipboard. Soon, he’d need to make his snow charts, too. But it was only August.
“Where are they?” Mom said.
She came through the doorway to the living room with her mug in one hand. It smelled like burnt stinky milk. He covered his nose.
“Mom, watch out!” She almost stepped on his eight red volcano cut-outs lined in a row in front of the TV. His heart kerthumped. He straightened one, so the bottom edge realigned with the rest. There, better.
“So, honey, what is it? Find an interesting documentary to watch?” she finally asked, drawing her gaze to the TV as she stumbled. “Will, the tape and scissors. I need you to pick them up, okay?” She yawned. “We need to go to bed soon.” She leaned over the coffee table and clicked her laptop shut with another curse. “I can’t even track their flight. Where are they?” she repeated to herself.
Her brown eyes were shiny, holding that sad look she got when she thought about Dad. Some expressions confused him, but Mom was easier to understand than others. She was sad a lot these days. Was she sad about his little brother Finn not returning home yet? He approached her and hugged her around the waist. He nudged the top of his head against her ribcage. “It’s okay, Mom. Finn and Uncle Brandon will be here. Maybe their flights were delayed again?”
She exhaled. Coffee breath. His stomach squeezed. Delays. Yuck, he didn’t like delays either.
She said in a whisper, a raspy grating sound, “They should’ve landed by now…the traffic north to Maine from Boston isn’t awful this time of day. Finn’s going to be so wired.”
But he’s not a robot, Will wanted to say, but he knew it was just one of Mom’s weird phrases. The commercials ended. He grabbed her hand. “Look, Mom. Yellowstone! Maybe Finn and Uncle Brandon saw it erupt since we were all just there! How lucky of them to see that, huh?” He pointed to the LIVE symbol in the bottom right corner.
Her mug slipped and fell in a crash, spilling all over his volcanoes.
About the Author:
Author of historical and contemporary romance and women’s fiction. Travel writer. Former Scientist. Daydreamer. Hiker girl. Loves sharks, lip-balm, Post-its, and Snoopy.
Social Media links:
Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon Author Page ~ The Wild Rose Press
It was wonderful having you with us today. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Will Rise From the Ashes!
Views: 576
Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Contemporary Fiction, Jean Grant, Will Rise From the Ashes, Women's Fiction by Tena Stetler with 16 comments.
Interview Abigail Drake -The Enchanted Garden Cafe
My youngest son is a singer. He was once invited to perform at an acoustic night being held in a smoothie bar in an area of Pittsburgh called the South Side. A funky little place called “The Enchanted Garden,” it was basically an old house that had been converted into a shop and smoothie bar. A small garden containing a few benches and plants, was located in the back, hence the name. It has since closed, and I only spent a few hours in this place, but as soon as I stepped inside, the wheels started turning in my head. I could imagine the characters so clearly, and felt compelled to tell their story. Several are based on actual people I met that night at the smoothie bar. Others were inspired by people I met at various places and times in my life, and some have elements of people I consider to be close personal friends. The location was pivotal, however, so much so that I feel it’s kind of a character in my book. What an impact one night spent listening to music in a smoothie bar made in my life! That proves you just never know when the muse will strike.
What secret do you use to blast through writer’s block?
I’m going to tell you a little secret. I don’t believe in writer’s block. There are always times when a writer struggles with something – be it plot, or a character arc, or even the name of a book. With the right tools and the right attitude, however, these problems can be easily over come.
How? Well, let me tell you.
First of all, if I’m ever having trouble with something in my writing, I meditate. I have guided meditations for writers created by my very dear friend, Madhu Wangu. When I’m stuck, I listen to one of Madhu’s meditations, and then I get back to work. Somehow, during the meditation, everything becomes clear, and the problems are solved.
The other option? I go for a long walk in the woods with my dog. He’s a Labrador retriever, which is the opposite of a Zen experience, but the quiet of the forest has a soothing affect on me. Also, physical activity is good for the body, good for the brain, and very good for a person’s mental health.
Another tip: If you’re stressed about starting a new chapter, focus instead on reviewing and editing the last chapter you worked on. When I take the pressure off, and try to do something as basic as just rereading and editing, I usually figure out what to do in the next chapter with very little pressure, and less time wasted.
For really big issues, call upon your friends (especially your writer friends) to help you. Sometimes, just the act of talking about the problem helps you figure out the solution. It’s like magic.
Do you find it easier to write from a male or female point of view? Why?
Most of my books are in first person, and from a female point of view. I like getting into the head of my characters, and figuring out what makes them tick. It feels more personal to me, and it gives me a better connection to what I’m writing. That being said, often it’s helpful, especially in romance to be able to have the perspective of both main characters. One of my young adult books, “The Bodyguard” (published under the name Wende Dikec), is in third person with alternating perspectives. One of my new adults books, “Sophie and Jake” (published under my pen name, Abigail Drake), is in first person with alternating perspectives. It’s interesting for me to experiment with this, and who knows? Maybe I’ll write from the male point of view eventually. I do have three sons. I kind of know how men think at this point!
If writing is your first passion, what is your second?
I studied Japanese and Economics in college, and lived abroad for many years. I lived in Nagoya, Japan for three years, and then in Istanbul, Turkey for three years (my husband is Turkish). I love to travel and explore other cultures, and I love learning new languages. I speak three (Japanese, Turkish, and English). My husband speaks four, and we love exploring new places together.
Other things I enjoy – as I said above, we have a Labrador retriever named Capone. I blog about him, and he’s become a bit of a local celebrity. My blog is on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/caponethewonderdog/ ), and it’s been a fun way to talk about the crazy things my dog did as a puppy. Lately, however, it’s become something else as well. I’ve been working with our local humane society to post twice a week about dogs and cats available for adoption at our local shelter. Quite a few animals have found a permanent home because of it, and that makes me very proud.
Falling in love is like baking.
Results may vary with experience.
~Aunt Francesca~
Chapter One
I opened the box and stepped back, tripping over a pile of Himalayan wind chimes I’d left lying behind me on the floor of the shop. They clanked in a discordant melody as I untangled them from my feet.
“What the heck?” I asked, ignoring the chimes and focusing on the parcel that had arrived in the mail earlier that morning. Tiny stone phalluses in various shades of gray filled the container to the brim. Checking the return address, I noticed the shipping cost and wanted to cry. Most of our inventory budget for the entire month had been used to mail this one small box halfway around the world.
“Mom, what exactly did you order from Inuyama, Japan?”
My mother popped her head around the corner, a bright smile on her face. “Did they finally arrive, Fiona? I’ve been waiting for ages.”
“For stone penises?”
Why was I even surprised? This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. My mother, Claire de Lune Campbell, had never been the master of impulse control, and she had a history of making very poor decisions. She’d been born Claire Campbell and added the “de Lune” in, what I can only guess, was a moment of pot-induced inspiration. The pot no longer played a part in her life, but the total inability to make common-sense decisions remained.
Mom picked up one of the stone penises, a happy twinkle in her eye. “Aren’t they lovely?”
On the outside, Mom and I looked alike. The same blonde hair, the same blue eyes, the same stubborn tilt to our chins, but there the resemblance ended. Mom was as happy and bright as a butterfly landing on a flower, and she had the same level of fiscal responsibility. I stressed about everything, especially money, but I had good cause.
My mom owned and operated the Enchanted Garden Café, where we served food, coffee, and specially blended teas and sold unusual items in our small gift shop. Nestled in the middle of the South Side, the funky hippie district of Pittsburgh, it was the perfect spot for my mom but a constant source of anxiety for me.
I wiped sweat from my face and brushed off my clothing. Dust covered my T-shirt and shorts, and some kind of stone powder had fallen out of the box from Inuyama onto my tennis shoes. Mom, glowing in a dress made from recycled saris, didn’t have a speck of dust on her, but she hadn’t handled the phalluses.
Kate, the girl who worked behind the counter, came over to us, her blue eyes alight with curiosity. “I want to see them,” she said. Mom handed her one, and she studied it closely, peering at it through the thick black frames of her retro hipster glasses. Her ebony hair was pulled off to the side in a low ponytail, and her colorful tattoos peeked through the crocheted black cardigan covering her pale skin. “At least they are anatomically correct. Look at those veins.”
My cheeks grew warm, and Mom smiled, putting a cool hand against my face. “Aww, Fiona is blushing.”
“No, I’m not. It’s hot in here.”
“Of course it is,” she said, making me feel twelve instead of twenty-five, but it was hot for early June, and the air-conditioning was broken. Again. Even with all the windows open, it still felt stuffy.
I ignored her and picked up a penis. “What are these things anyway?”
She beamed at me with pure, unfiltered happiness. “Fertility charms from a little shrine in the mountains of Japan. They have a big festival there every year. I went once.”
She sighed, most likely remembering happy times at the fertility festival, and went back to the kitchen. I looked at Kate and rolled my eyes, making her snicker, before getting back to work. The fertility charms came in all sizes and seemed handmade. I just wasn’t sure how to sell them or where to display them in our shop.
A Victorian eyesore, the café was painted on the outside in what once had been a mix of bright pink and various shades of green. The pink had faded to a dull rose, and the green looked like the color of old limes just before they rotted. It needed work and a fresh coat of paint, but instead of doing so, we spent our money on phalluses from Japan. That was how things worked with my mother. No planning. No rhyme or reason. No logic. No rational thought.
The bell above the door tinkled, and I turned, a penis in each hand, as a stranger walked into the shop. I couldn’t see his face at first because the sun was at his back, but he carried a guitar case. A sure sign of trouble.
“Hello,” he said as he came closer.
He had straight dark hair that brushed his shoulders, brown eyes, and a goatee. He reminded me of a sexy, naughty French pirate, and I knew his kind well. Close to my age, he was definitely one of the artsy, flighty types who always hung out around my mom. I could spot them a mile away.
“Holy guacamole, if he were any hotter, I’d need new underwear,” whispered Kate, taking off to the back of the shop and leaving me alone to greet the stranger.
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Abigail Drake, South Side Stories, The Enchanted Garden Cafe, Women's Fiction by Tena Stetler with comments disabled.
A Chat with Author, Jennifer Wilck about In The Moment
Give a warm welcome to Jennifer Wilck, author of In The Moment released September 1, 2017!
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 Jennifer Wilck and her new release In The Moment.
Tell us what inspired this particular story?
A few years ago, my daughters and I stopped by an open house in a neighboring town. The girls and I love to check out houses and dream about living in them, and this house was perfect for that. An 1860s Victorian mansion, it was three floors of exquisite molding, fireplaces and hardwood floors. The previous owners had renovated the two bottom floors, retaining the history although modernizing the kitchen and bathrooms. The uppermost floor, though, hadn’t been touched in a long time. In fact, in one of the bedrooms traditionally used by servants, you could still walk on the original wood beam flooring.
This house spoke to me. Not only because I would have given my left arm to live there—if only I had a spare couple of million dollars available—but because I could hear and feel the people from the past who had lived there before. I could see them descending the stairs, hands trailing on the polished bannisters. I could listen to them cozying up in the library by the fire. The house was calling to me.
Unfortunately, since I really don’t have that spare couple of million dollars, we couldn’t buy the house. But I wasn’t about to forget it, and since I’m a writer, I decided to write about it. It was going to be the star of my next book. Since I write romance, someone was going to live in it.
Enter my heroine, Cassie. She was a foster child, shuffled from home to home until she came to this house. It was the first place she felt like part of a family. When her foster mother died, the bank sold the house and Cassie, who had been encouraged to go to college and become successful by that very same foster mother, bought it and began to renovate it. Her dream was to live there and raise her very own family there, to fill it with the love and laughter she remembered and wanted for herself.
Then comes my hero, Rayne. He’s a war photographer emotionally scarred by what he’s seen and what he feels he’s caused. He wants nothing to do with permanence. He’s passing through the town on his way to deliver something to someone—to make good on a promise. Cassie offers him temporary shelter and a way to make some money and he accepts. And then he falls in love.
I won’t tell you anymore, because, you know, spoilers. But I hope the story speaks to you the way this house spoke to me!
A bit more About In The Moment.
Cassie Edwards, a former foster child, purchases an 1870s Victorian mansion, the one home from her childhood where she felt like part of a family. She’s spending her summer lovingly restoring it, with dreams of one day raising a family of her own here. Rayne Tucket, a photojournalist, is haunted by the death of his best friend in Afghanistan, a death he thinks is his fault. He survives day to day. Forever is not in his vocabulary. Swearing off photography, he answers an ad for a handyman—mindless, no emotion involved. As the two of them renovate her house, can Cassie show Rayne that love is strong enough to heal all wounds?
A peek between the pages of In The Moment:
The intimate closeness made her stomach flutter. The proximity of their bodies, the rush of the water, and his feathering touch on her lips made her dizzy. She gripped his arms for support. He grasped her waist, staring deep in her eyes.
He was going to kiss her. She knew it. His pupils dilated. Time slowed. The rushing water pounded around her. She opened her mouth, as much to drink in air as to get ready to kiss him back. His eyes narrowed, focused on her lips. She leaned toward him. Their wet bodies pressed against each other. Her breasts tingled, and her stomach heated at the contact. She wanted this to go on forever, but at the same time, she wanted him to hurry up and kiss her so their lips could finally meet. At the last possible second, he pushed away.
She stood there, confused and aching.
“I’m not the staying kind, Cassie.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“A woman like you needs a man who’ll stay forever. My time here has an expiration date.”
She ducked under the water. When she came up, she pushed her hair out of her face. “I know you’re leaving. You don’t have to, though.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a promise to keep.”
“What kind of promise?”
“The unbreakable kind.”
You can find In The Moment at The Wild Rose Press: Amazon:
About the Author!
Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.
In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. When she’s not writing, she loves to laugh with family and friends, is a pro at finding whatever her kids lost in plain sight, and spends way too much time closing doors that should never have been left open. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and doesn’t share her chocolate.
She writes contemporary romance, some of which are mainstream and some of which involve Jewish characters.
Learn more about Jennifer at her social media haunts below:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jennifer-Wilck-201342863240160/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JWilck
Website: http://www.jenniferwilck.com
Blog: http://jenniferwilck.blogspot.com
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jenniferwilck/
It was wonderful having you with us today. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with In The Moment!
Views: 293
Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Contemporary, In The Moment, Jennifer Wilck, Romance, Women's Fiction by Tena Stetler with 16 comments.
