Success in Bloom with Guest Blogger: Stacey James

Welcome to a Saturday special edition with author Stacey James!

She's here to chat about a planting a genre flower garden and here's what she had to say...



It’s April. Spring is finally here, a time for rejuvenation and growth. Pretty colors, fresh scents and new ideas all come to mind. This is the time of year I begin to plan and prepare my flower garden. Energy fills my entire body and I can’t wait to get outside and start planting. Some people prefer to plant strictly annuals or adhere to a rigid color scheme of orange and yellow in one area while opting for pink and purple in yet another. A simple plan always works. Just dig and plant. Voila! You have yourself a beautiful flower garden.

But honestly, regarding only the flowers in this case, have you truly ever seen an ugly flower garden? Your answer is- probably not. The reason is because mixing different shades of color and texture, while varying height and size, can be quite attractive. It just works.

What about genres? Can the same be said of them? Is it okay to mix a little historical romance with some paranormal tendencies? What about a mystery/thriller with a touch of science fiction?

Are there hard and fast rules when it comes to genres?

While writing my recent novella, Molly’s Soap Parlor, I was tormented with the decision of which genre to put it under once I’d finished it. The story takes place in 1895 Whiskey Falls. There is light romance between Molly and a scout named Arrow. Throw in some pirates, thugs, and thieves to acquire some adventure. Oh, but wait, Molly is a tinkering laundress who has invented some steam-powered laundry machines and bathtubs for an outdoor Soap Parlor.

Steampunk currently qualifies as science fiction. Coincidentally, Molly happens to be a smart inventor of super gadgets but there are hardly space ships or aliens on the scene. And then, as if we don’t have enough genre crossing, we can discuss the presence of a steam powered submarine and snowmobile. Yes, Molly is definitely a wildflower garden!

I am not the first to do this sort of genre crossing. I’m currently reading (and loving) Firelight by Kristin Callihan. It is a historical romance with a sizzling touch of fantasy and it works fabulously in my opinion!

Like a colorful flower garden, genre mixing can be a creative way of adding splashes of color to an already good story garden. You could potentially take your garden story a step further and add yet another “pop” of color to create even more interest. But as with a real flower garden, you will want to stop short of adding too many distracting lawn ornaments- if you know what I mean?


A Note from the Book Boost: This is a great post, Stacey! I love the idea of genre mixing as compared to a flower garden. While I do love flowers and the more creative and wild the arrangement the better--I also have trouble with my cross-genre books from time to time. I guess you have to just pull the trigger on one and then promote across all. Best of luck with this new novella. It sounds great--and my Mom's name is Molly! Too cool.


Blurb:

Steam and soap powder rule in 1895 Whiskey Falls! Twenty one year old tinkerer Molly Watkins can clean more than just sap and coal stains out of day-old overalls; she can clean house with anything or anyone that sets an unwelcomed foot on her new establishment- Molly’s Soap Parlor. That would include scoundrels, thugs, and pirates out to steal her granny's famous soap powder recipe.

She's got no time for twittering, even if it involves a handsome wilderness scout named Arrow. Gadgets and a modified Henry rifle are a feisty laundress' best friend in Whiskey Falls in the winter of 1895. Having narrowly escaped the foothills of North Dakota without her dog sled team, Molly made her way east to Whiskey Falls in order to enter her new contraption, a cycle fly rod, in an annual ice fishing derby. The rod is only one of Molly's latest inventions. But there’s more than soap brewing in Molly’s peculiar steam-powered laundry contraption.


Excerpt:

“Meet my rifle. I call him Henry.” Molly blew out the kerosene lamps burning nearby and twittered with the wood stove, spinning a spiral valve that stuck out of the side of the smokestack.

Arrow’s eyebrows arched. Molly strained to peer out the window at the bandits in the yard. “Maybe you were lucky and hit one of them. But you’d best have missed my laundry machine.”
Arrow continued to study the weapon. “Maybe.” It was unclear as to which item he was referring. “Who modified this?”

“I did.”

More torpedoes struck the cabin.

“I should go outside and sneak back around the woodshed. Surprise them,” Arrow whispered in the dark.

“Wait.” Molly pulled up a shortened floor board from under the kitchen table and set it aside. A secret hiding place. Explosions from incoming torpedoes illuminated the room just enough to outline human expressions. Each burst of fire shimmered through the window pane and against the gold and silver workings of the firearms as Molly passed out the weapons.

“Be careful, they’re loaded,” she reminded the girls.

After taking a sleek copper pistol for herself, Molly replaced the floor board. “Now, we all know the drill.”

“The drill? What drill?” Arrow snapped, wrinkling his nose.

“Don’t worry,” Molly held up a thumb. “We’re on a winning streak.”

She went back to peering out the window again. Arrow fixed his eyes upon the weapon she held with confidence. The crevice in his forehead deepened. More whining objects hit the cabin facade.

“Damn bandits stole my torpedo gun a few nights ago,” an irritated Molly blurted out between glances out the window. “I’m guessing… the bandits are out there now. Luckily, I have this anti-torpedo gun.” Noting his puzzled expression, “I had to rig it up as soon as I realized my torpedo gun was missing…in case they came back. Glad I did that.”

Molly held the gadget up only briefly for him to inspect. Then she pushed her way in front of his six foot frame, which had become dead weight, and pulled the door open just a crack. Arrow silently mouthed the words anti-torpedo gun as he adhered himself to her working shadow.

“Do you think you might cover me out there?”
Arrow blinked.

“Well I’m not proposing marriage!” Molly bolted out the door and ran behind the wood shed, followed by an awestruck Arrow.

Want More Stacey?

Follow her blog here:
http://booksbystaceyjames.wordpress.com/

Pick up a copy of her book today! Click here.

The Naked Truth about Mystery Lovers with Guest Blogger: Melissa Bourbon Ramirez

Welcome mystery author
Melissa Bourbon Ramirez
to the Book Boost today!

She's here to chat about her unabashed loved for all things mystery and here's what she had to say...


Mysteries are close to my heart. Okay, truthfully, books of any kind are close to my heart, but mysteries, in particular. The mystery can be large or small. It can be the central focus of the story, or play a supporting role. It really doesn’t matter to me the scope of the mystery elements, as long as it’s there in one way, shape, or form.


My love of mysteries started, like most young girls of a certain age--ehem, we don’t need to talk about age, now, do we?--with Nancy Drew. From there I graduated straight to Agatha Christie. I have a distinct memory of going with my mom to our town’s library so she could check out the last Hercule Poirot novel, Curtain. She was crushed that it was to be Poirot’s last, and her love of these book intrigued me enough to start reading them.


I spent almost all of my high school lunches in one classroom or another reading.


Now, I should say that I’m a light-weight when it comes to these things. Horror movies and books are not for me. I threw Silence of the Lambs across the room once or twice while reading it, and I cover my eyes during certain parts of Dexter.


But I love the deduction.


So, of course, when my passion for writing grew until it couldn’t be denied, it was no surprise that it manifested itself in the form of mysteries. I began with the Lola Cruz Mystery series, published initially with St. Martin’s Minotaur, and now continuing with Entangled Publishing. Bare-Naked Lola comes out in a little over a month!


Then I wrote 2 romantic suspense novels, which, of course, have strong mystery elements in them. They’re based on Mexican legends and these will be coming out sometime next year.


Finally, my cozies, A Magical Dressmaking Mystery series with NAL, which launched last year, will be continuing with a 2nd three book contract. Pleating for Mercy is going into a second printing (just found that out today), so mysteries are working for me. Good thing, since I love them.


Mystery, mystery, mystery. The characters. The communities. The crime. The puzzle. The deductions. The justice. All of makes for such a satisfying read.


I’m especially thrilled to see Bare-Naked Lola shine. Lola Cruz was my first character love, and writing her is like hanging out with friends. Lola’s smart, sexy, sassy, and isn’t afraid to do what she believes is right. She’ s my kind of heroine.


I’d like to know what everyone loves most about mysteries? Small town cozies? Private Eyes, like Lola? Hard core romantic suspense? There are so many to choose from. What’s your pleasure?


A Note from the Book Boost: I love mysteries as well and they are the very reason I started writing in the first place. Oh, to have the ultimate mystery that is both unsolvable and yet gives the reader that "a ha" moment in the end. Sigh. Thanks for joining us today, Melissa. Best of luck on your upcoming release!


Blurb:

Going undercover is second nature for Private Investigator Lola Cruz, but she’s out of her league when the case of a murdered Royals Courtside Dancer leads her to a local nudist resort.

Parading around the sidelines of Sacramento’s professional basketball scene in a barely-there cheerleading outfit is one thing—but parading around in nothing but smile? If she has any chance of hiding this from her traditional family and on-again/off-again boyfriend Jack, she’s going to have a lot more than her duct tape bra and killer dance moves to keep under wraps….

Want More Melissa?


Melissa Bourbon, who sometimes answers to her Latina-by-marriage name Misa Ramirez, gave up teaching middle and high school kids in Northern California to write full-time amidst horses and Longhorns in North Texas. She fantasizes about spending summers writing in quaint, cozy locales, has a love/hate relationship with yoga and chocolate, is devoted to her family, and can’t believe she’s lucky enough to be living the life of her dreams.


Visit her on the web here: http://melissabourbon.com/

Follow her on Twitter here:
http://twitter.com/#!/MelissaBourbon

Pre-order a copy of her book today! Click here.

The Write Stuff with Guest Blogger: Berengaria Brown

Welcome multi-published author
Berengaria Brown to the Boost today!

She's here to chat about diversifying your publishing choices and here's what she had to say...


March was apparently “Small Press Month”. I didn’t know that, but because I chose to begin my writing career with digital publishing, it’s something that I thought about very carefully.

Before I was a writer I was a reader, and I’m still a voracious reader. I knew several authors who were caught up in the chaos and drama that accompanied the collapse of Triskelion Publishing.

So when I began writing, I determined never to write just for a single publishing house. I know there are advantages to being with just one house, but this was a considered decision I made. My first three books were each submitted to a different publisher. I was quite surprised to receive contracts for all of them. Since then, I’ve been published with nine different houses, and have self-published a few books as well. Right now I’m actively submitting to three houses, but may submit to one of the others again later.

As well as digital books I also have print books with two different publishers, and an audio book with a third.

This policy of diversifying my work paid off late last year when Aspen Mountain Press ceased operations. Although I only had one book there, and didn’t suffer the trauma many other authors suffered, at least I was still able to write and submit elsewhere until I got my rights back.


A Note from the Book Boost: I've done the same thing, Berengaria. I've published with about a dozen different publishers. Some big, some medium and some small and have had both good/bad experiences along the way. I think diverse publishing is the way to go. Thanks for sharing your experience with us. Tell us more about your latest.


Blurb:

Edmund’s sister Mavis was tragically widowed by a hit-and-run driver, when he was rushing to the hospital for the birth of their son. Now Mavis can’t cope with the loss of her husband and a new fatherless baby to care for.

Mavis’ friend, AJ, tells Edmund that he and his partner, Utah, must go and retrieve an aquamarine. The stone will bring courage and comfort to Mavis. It will hold the spirit of her dead husband and she will be able to rear their son and have a fulfilling life.

Only lovers can find the stone. Edmund and Utah are a little skeptical, but very willing to try.


Excerpt:

Utah just smiled at his partner. Edmund had all the confidence in the world, and likely some naughty plan in mind. Well, they'd soon see just how doable his plans were. One of the things Utah loved about Edmund was his insouciant acceptance of sex as an integral part of daily life. And Utah's dick was always ready to get involved in sex with Edmund!

Even just looking at Edmund in that tight, body-hugging wetsuit, made Utah's cock grow and harden, and his balls tighten. Down boy he thought widening his stance a little to ease the pressure on his equipment. First we find this mystical aquamarine for Mavis. Then we fuck each other's brains out.

The more he thought about it, the crazier it sounded. Here on a public beach where dozens, even hundreds, of people swam every day, they were going to swim out to a sandbar and find a precious stone. They would then give this stone to Edmund's sister, and with no other help -- no therapy, no psychiatrists, no lawyers, nothing else at all -- she would accept the loss of her husband and focus on rearing her kid. When he put it like that, it almost sounded like he was the one who needed a good therapist. Deluded didn't come close to explaining the lack of logic in those thoughts. Ah well, all he could do was support Edmund. AJ had made it quite plain Edmund would not succeed if Utah wasn't there with him. And anyway, he wanted to be with Edmund. Wanted to help him.

Shrugging his shoulders he swung around to look at Edmund. "Are you ready to go fetch this rock?"

"Yes, sure. But how are we supposed to recognize it?"

"Hell if I know. Isn't it supposed to call to you, or something?"

Want More Berengaria?

Visit her on the web here: http://berengariabrown.webs.com/

Follow her blog here:
http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/


Pick up a copy of her book today! Click here.

Special Edition: YA Book Review PJ Sharon's Savage Cinderella

Welcome to a Special Edition day
at the Book Boost featuring a
Book Review of PJ Sharon's
YA novel Savage Cinderella!

This special feature day at the Book Boost is in support of the Young Adult Romance Writer's Chapter (of which I'm a proud member as well) and the review was completed courtesy of Mirta Espinola, Editor/Publicist.


The REVIEW:


There have been travesties plaguing our society for centuries, but more recently gross atrocities against children have caught insatiable attention in the media. Stories of murdered or missing children have run ramped for everyone to view live on the news. So when I began to read Savage Cinderella, from the name alone I was hesitant thinking it would be some dark fairy tale, but as I began to read I was intrigued.

The beginning of the story unfolds as a man named Roy takes a girls’ body out of the trunk leaving her for dead in the mountains. The way the author writes the dominance in his character is the epitome of what readers would associate with a killer and pedophile. In addition, Roy’s character speaks about promises he makes that he does not retract-ever. That common thread is embedded throughout the story. And in the final pages it resonates in the readers’ mind to an almost deadly end.

The reader builds an emotional bond with the victim through her plight and when she yields no more to her fears, the reader becomes empowered alongside her. As the story progresses, Brinn survives the mountains and without giving up too much of the story undergoes a wonderful, yet difficult transformation when a journalist, her love interest, discovers her in the wilderness.

The author, PJ Sharon, strings words together in poetic perfection. Her use of figurative language draws in the reader and allows for a grand appreciation of the scenery she depicts. One of my favorite excerpts:

“Kicking along the pathway, she took a moment to stop and take in the view along the crest. It was a lovely day, the sun spilling across the valley, the trees like a sea of green set beneath a cloudless blue sky. She drew in the crisp morning air. She never tired of the breathtaking beauty of the mountains with their tangle of deep blue ridges that spread like tree roots into the mist. The perfect view could only be improved if she had someone to share it with, she considered, not for the first time. She pushed the thought away.”

In this paragraph from Savage Cinderella any reader can see the harmonic "wordology" of this author. The characterization is also right on with an impressive insight to the nativity and vulnerability the victim Brinn possesses. Furthermore, the hideous description of the villain, Roy, brings strong emotions of hatred and disgust rightfully so as we root for the protagonist in this story.

The title, Savage Cinderella correlates with the theme accurately and Cinderella represents a simple, virtuous and innocent symbol as the word savage is appropriate for the environment Brinn was thrust into after being disregarded like trash. If anything could be juxtaposed to symbolize beauty in the rough it would be the main character and the title. To me, the story brought the weight of the evils upon children to light, with a passionate story that saddened me, but also evoked an array of feelings within me. I know that is what writers want readers to do-FEEL! I believe this to be true with this author.

Savage Cinderella was presented to me as written for young adults. Some mature issues regarding sex and sex acts were addressed although none were actually depicted in the book. In my opinion it is appropriate for older middle school and high school teens. All the issues relating to sex are tastefully explained as it coincides with issues pertaining to the material and main ideas in the story.

As a parent I would read it before I allowed my middle school teen to read it, but I would feel more than comfortable with it being read by a high school student. However, this is a personal choice any parent can assess. I can say with any clarity is that in comparison with some of the TV shows today advertised to teens, this is much more responsibly suited for them. As a parent I would read and discuss the content matter with my teenager. It presents many valuable lessons as well as an appreciation for learning, a trusting friendship, and the importance of family.

Paula Sharon is an author to watch!


The AUTHOR:


PJ Sharon is author of contemporary young adult novels, including Heaven is For Heroes, a finalist in the Denver Heart of Romance Molly contest. Her stories have garnered several contest finals, including a place in the Wisconsin Romance Writers FAB Five contest for On Thin Ice.

Her third novel, Savage Cinderella, was a finalist in the prestigious Valley Forge Romance writer’s contest as well as the Florida Romance Writers Golden Palm contest in 2010.

On the road to publication, PJ decided that indie-publishing was the best fit for her books. Although the themes are mature, evoking plenty of drama and teen angst, PJ writes with a positive outlook and promises a hopefully ever after end to all of her books. She believes in strong heroines empowered by learning valuable life lessons. Because of this, readers of all ages will be captivated by the emotional and romantic journeys of her characters.

Writing romantic fiction for the past six years, and following her destiny to write extraordinary stories of an average teenage life, PJ has been a member of Romance Writers of America since 2007 and is an active member of the Young Adult chapter of RWA. She is mother to two grown sons and lives with her husband and her dog in the Berkshire Hills of Western MA.

Visit her on the web here: www.pjsharon.com


The BOOK:


Eighteen year-old Brinn Hathaway has survived alone in an abandoned cabin in the High Country of North Georgia since she was a child. If her life is lonely and less than complete, at least she is safe from the man who kidnapped her, held her captive, and left her for dead in a shallow grave in the mountains. She believes that her parents are dead, the police are her enemy, and that if she returns to the world, her tormentor will find her. With the help of some unlikely friends, she has what she needs to survive, but is surviving enough?

Life takes a turn when a young nature photographer, Justin Spencer—in pursuit of the fabled Wild Child—captures her on film. While chasing the story of a lifetime, Justin is injured and Brinn comes to his rescue. The two build a tentative friendship, but with his own violent past, an abusive alcoholic father, and a mother he couldn’t protect, he must decide if proving himself is worth betraying the trust of the girl he has vowed to help.

Trust is a commodity that Brinn has been unable to afford. Can the kindness and gentle touch of a stranger break through the wall she has built around her heart? After half a lifetime of living in isolation and fear, Brinn must decide if leaving the safety of her remote cabin is worth the hope—and danger—that may await her.

Pick up your copy today! Click here.


The REVIEWER:


Mirta R. Espinola lives with her son and husband in Texas. She has a BA and an MA in Interdisciplinary Studies/Education and has been reviewing and editing for about 3 years. She also works publicity for a local Texas author and continually specifically reviews and edits young adult and children’s literature. She is working on her first children’s book.

Visit her on the web here: www.espinolaeditor.blogspot.com

Special Edition: COVER REVEAL for Sasha Summers

Hollywood Ever After
A Contemporary Romance

"She wasn’t meant for movie stars, Hollywood, or happy endings. And then she met him."

Blurb:

Happy Endings are for fairy tales. Or the movies. Not for real life. At least, not Claire’s life. Even though she’s starting over, she knows better than to want too much this time. But when she falls, literally, into the strong arms of Hollywood’s ‘it’ boy Josh Wiley, Claire’s in for some surprises.

Her plans for rest and relaxation are forgotten as one incredible night with Josh becomes two…

And her heart begins to want him as much as her body. Will two kids, one bastard ex-husband, and Josh’s juggernaut career mean the end of their affair? Or can Claire find her happy ending after all?

Want More Sasha?

Visit her on the web here: www.sashasummers.com

Pre-Order her book. Click here.

Can't Beat a Great Mom with Guest Blogger: W. Lynn Chantale

Win a $10 Bookstore Gift Card
and welcome W. Lynn Chantale to a
Special Weekend Edition @ the Book Boost!

She's here to chat about the hand who rocked her cradle and her world and here's what she had to say...


The Hand That Rocks the Cradle


No, Rebecca DeMornay, isn’t going to sneak in and take over raising the kids, but it does bring to mind my mom. My mom wasn’t bent on revenge, but she did and has influenced many of the decisions in my life.


For our birthdays mom used to make our cakes, I don’t mean the two layer or quarter sheet cakes everyone is so fond of, but cakes in the shape of Raggedy Ann or Spider-Man and Darth Vader. She made us costumes for Halloween or school projects, she made us clothes and teddy bears, homemade cookies and let us play in mud puddles. Or let us take bubble baths in the pool outside during the summer.


I wanted to be just like my mom when I grew up. By the time I was nine I was making doll clothes for my Barbie with leftover scraps from Mom’s projects. I think I was 12 or 13 when I made my first outfit. Mostly skirts, shorts and shirts. The seam ripper was and is my best friend. Some of my fondest sewing memories are me getting frustrated when I would sew the inseam of the shorts the wrong way. I would do this several times before I’d take the garment and smack the sewing machine...repeatedly. After I’d rip out the seam for the umpteenth time, only then would Mom step in and say, “bring it here.” She’d pin the first seam for me and have me bring it back. Why couldn’t she have done that the first time?


Well I never would’ve learned and I think she liked laughing at me. I mean how many kids do you know will beat up a sewing machine with a pair of shorts? LOL.


I taught myself how to decorate cakes and then studied culinary arts, I wanted to be a pastry chef. That dream didn’t come true, but I did work as a cake decorator for a number of years. I had the pleasure of decorating several friends’ and family members wedding cakes as well as birthday cakes.


Even my love of music is inspired by mom. Love those groups she grew up with, Earth, Wind and Fire, The Temptations, The Four Tops and the Isley Brothers to name a few. I draw the line at those sappy John Wayne movies she loves. McClintock is her favorite. There’s also a plethora of black and white movies she hipped me to, not to mention musicals, I love Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Singin’ in the Rain. I can’t get enough of Rear Window or The Greatest Show on Earth.


And finally Mom cultivated a love of reading and encouraged me to use my imagination. She bought me books everything from Encyclopedia Brown to Nancy Drew, Beverly Cleary, Lois Duncan, Judy Blume and R.L. Stine. When I got older, I read all of her Stephen King, Victoria Holt, Sidney Sheldon and Harlequin novels and after I finished those I discovered my own fave authors. Such as...Robin Cook, Mary Higgins Clark, Dean Koontz, Margaret Truman and Elliot Roosevelt.


My mom and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I think she did pretty good. I learned the basics, be nice, treat everyone with respect, stay out of trouble...well some lessons take longer to learn than others. She told me not to put her in a book, so I hope she won’t mind that she’s the subject of a blog. Thanks Mom for being the hand that ruled my world.


A Note from the Book Boost: I love this post! Thanks so much for sharing your Mom with us Lynn. My mother is one of my biggest fans as well. She routinely brags about my books to others (even though some of them have that sex stuff in them). LOL What a great childhood you had--one to be envied for sure. Please tell us more about your book.


Blurb:

As a caterer, Darling gets to witness some of life’s happiest moments, but yearns for a marriage proposal of her own. After years of waiting on her beloved to pop the question, she gives up on ever having a happy ending of her own and severs the relationship. When she learns she’s pregnant, she has no choice but to face her child’s father on a daily basis as well as the love and attraction she has for him.

Darryl Manning always believed Darling would be his forever. After all he didn’t need a piece of paper to show her how much he loved her, but when she leaves him to pursue her dream of owning a catering company and raising his son, he may have to rethink his views on marriage. That is if he wants a second chance at family.



Excerpt:

She brushed a stray curl from her face and planted her hand on her hip when Darryl didn’t move. “I know you may not have anything to do, but I really need to get back downstairs,” she reminded him.

He stepped closer, reaching a hand to tug on the lock of hair she had just swept away. She sucked in a breath, his clean masculine scent beguiling her. Her gaze dropped to the open collar of his shirt. If she pressed her mouth to his warm skin, would he moan? Darling lifted her head, and he met her lips with a kiss. Too stunned to protest, she sank into his kiss, savoring the spicy taste of him and the firmness of his lips. He skimmed the curve of her spine with his hands before resting them at her hips.

Drawing her closer, he brought her against the hard line of his arousal. Desire exploded, and she wiggled her hips in hopes of easing the sudden tension at the apex of her thighs. As if sensing her need, he cupped her butt, shifting her slightly until he was wedged between her legs.

Want More Lynn?

Visit her website here: http://wlynnchantale.com

Follow her blog here:
http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/

Pick up a copy of her book today! Click here.

Contest Time:

Leave a question or comment for Lynn and be entered to win a $10 Gift Card from your choice of Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or All Romance E-books.


**Winners for Book Boost prizes are drawn the first week of the following month and posted in the Recent Winners box in the right hand side of the blog. Check back to see if you are a winner and to claim your prize! Please leave your contact information in your blog post!**

If You Say Sew with Guest Blogger: Lois Winston

Welcome cozy mystery author
Lois Winston to the Book Boost!

She's here to discuss how her mystery series was crafted and here's what she had to say...


March is known for many things. Tradition says it comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb because it starts off in winter and ends in the spring. Smack in the middle of the month we all don green and become Irish for a day. March is also Women’s History Month and National Noodle Month. (Did you even know there was a National Noodle Month? I have to admit, I didn’t!) Also, thanks to some clock tinkering, March now heralds the start of daylight savings time.


However, March is also National Craft Month, and that has special meaning for me. I’ve spent much of my adult life working in the consumer crafts industry as a designer for craft kit manufacturers, crafts and needlework magazines, and women’s magazines. I still design, but now I also write The Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries, a humorous amateur sleuth series with a protagonist who’s the crafts editor at a woman’s magazine.


The marriage seemed destined from the start.


I’m a quintessential right-brainer. All my life I’ve created “stuff,” working in just about every art and craft medium but feeling most at home with a needle in my hand. My earliest memory of needlecraft involved my Betsy Wetsy doll and my grandmother’s sofa.


I was no more than four years old. Grandma was mending something, and I decided I wanted to hem Betsy’s dress. After much pleading and profuse promises that I wouldn’t stick myself with the needle, grandma acquiesced. She threaded a needle for me, and I settled onto an ottoman in front of the sofa -- where I proceeded to stitch Betsy’s dress to the sofa cushion!


Needless to say, grandma was not very happy. However, I’m thrilled to report I didn’t stick myself with the needle.


Along with crafts, I’ve had a lifelong passion for crime solving. I grew up with the pride of knowing my grandfather spent his life as a much decorated detective, working his way up to captain of the Essex County police force in Newark, NJ. During his long career, grandpa was responsible for the apprehension of many a well-known gangster.


Had I been born later, I may have decided on a career in criminal justice, but instead, I went to art school.


Fast forward more years than I’m willing to admit. I’ve published two books, a romantic suspense and a women’s fiction. One day my agent is speaking with an editor. The editor mentions she’d like to find a mystery series with a crafting theme. My agent contacts me, figuring I’m the perfect person to write such a series, given my background. Up until then, I’d never thought about writing a mystery. I rarely even read mysteries because I had a habit of figure out whodunit too early on most of the time. I figured it was due to the genes I’d inherited from my grandfather.


However, I took up the challenge and wrote Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun, the first book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries. Unfortunately, the editor who made the initial request didn’t buy the series because she wound up leaving publishing while I was in the process of writing the book. A few years later, the book did sell to another publisher and received starred reviews from both Publishers Weekly and Booklist. Death By Killer Mop Doll is the second book in the series. There will be at least three more books to come.


I often wonder what my grandparents would say about the course my life has taken.


A Note from the Book Boost: Thanks for joining us today, Lois. I think your grandparents would have been very proud of you. You've found a way to combine the two things you love creating most--your crafts and your writing. If you can make joy in your life (and a little money too) by doing what you love then I think that's what every parent and grandparent would want most for you. Glad you're here. Please tell us more about your latest.


Blurb:

Overdue bills and constant mother vs. mother-in-law battles at home are bad enough. But crafts editor Anastasia Pollack's stress level is maxed out when she and her fellow American Woman editors get roped into unpaid gigs for a revamped morning TV show.

Before the glue is dry on Anastasia's mop dolls, morning TV turns crime drama when the studio is trashed and the producer is murdered. Former co-hosts Vince and Monica—sleazy D-list celebrities—stand out among a lengthy lineup of suspects, all furious over the show's new format. And Anastasia has no clue her snooping has landed her directly in the killer's unforgiving spotlight.


Excerpt:


Upstairs, the front door slammed with enough force to register a five on the Richter scale. Dust dislodged from the exposed basement rafters and drifted down like polluted snow, settling over the basket of clean laundry I’d been folding. The ensuing shouting, barking, and yowling drowned out my muttered curse of choice and yanked my attention away from the now Dalmatian-spotted white wash.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” squawked Ralph, the Shakespeare-spouting African Grey parrot I’d inherited when Great-aunt Penelope Periwinkle died two years ago. “Henry the Fifth. Act Three, Scene One.” He spread his wings and took flight up the basement stairs to check out the action. I raced after him, eager to prevent World War Three from erupting in my living room.

“Muzzle that abominable creature, or I’ll have the pound haul him away,” shrieked Mama. “He’s traumatizing Catherine the Great.”

“So shove some Prozac down her throat,” said my mother-in-law Lucille. “What the hell are you doing back here? And don’t you ever bother to knock? Just barge right in like you own the place.”

“I have more right to be here than you. This is my daughter’s house, you…you pinko squatter.”

As I hurried through the kitchen, I glanced at the calendar tacked next to the telephone. Mama wasn’t due back from her Caribbean cruise for another three days. Damn it. I needed those three days to steel myself for the inevitable explosive reaction that occurred whenever Flora Sudberry Periwinkle Ramirez Scoffield Goldberg O’Keefe, my mother and the former social secretary of the Daughters of the American Revolution, locked horns with Lucille Pollack, my mother-in-law and current president of the Daughters of the October Revolution. I’d been swindled out of seventy-two hours.

By the time I entered the living room, Mama’s and Lucille’s voices had reached glass-shattering decibel range.

“Crazy communist!” yelled Mama. She stood in the middle of the room, cradling Catherine the Great, her corpulent white Persian with an attitude befitting her namesake.

Manifesto, my mother-in-law’s runt of a French bulldog, stood inches from Mama’s Ferrigamos, his bark having switched to growl mode as he glared up at his nemesis. With a hiss and a yowl, Catherine the Great leaped from Mama’s arms. Showing his true cowardly colors, Mephisto, as we always called him behind his back and often to his snout, scampered to safety behind my mother-in-law’s ample girth.

Lucille barreled across the room, waving her cane at Mama. “Reactionary fascist!”

“How dare you threaten me!” Mama defended herself with a French manicured backhand that would have done Chris Everett proud. The cane flew from Lucille’s grasp and landed inches from Mephisto’s nose. Demon dog yelped and dove between Lucille’s orange polyester clad legs.

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