…At Your Fingertips

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Welcome to my WordPress site!

Posted by Tamela Quijas on December 21, 2009

I want to extend a warm welcome to everyone that stops by …At Your Fingertips for a visit! 

My blog site isn’t only about the latest romance and paranormal romance novels, you’ll find my thoughts on book and movie reviews, wholesome and inspirational stories, fantastic author interviews, sneak peeks into upcoming book releases, recipes,  links and pages to my own books, and an exclusive look into my world. 

In the side columns, you can connect with fantastic publishers,visit intriguing author sites, and blog sites that have fascinated me!  Feel free to explore what might interest you.

I’m happy to count each and every one of you among my friends and encourage you to come back often. 

Check out my other sites on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Linkedln, Shelfari and LibraryThing!

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Author Fiona Jayde drops by with her latest release, Cold Victory

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 10, 2010

I had the fantastic opportunity to interview Author Fiona Jayde this week and it’s a pleasure to have her along.  If you have read any of Fiona’s saucy works, you’ll know that she is a space pilot, a ninth degree black belt in three styles of martial arts, a computer hacker, a mountain climber, a jazz singer, a weight lifter, a superspy with a talent for languages, and an evil genius. 

All in her own head.

In life, she is an author of kickass, action packed, steamy romances, possesses a brown belt in Tae Kwon Do and blue belt in Aikido, a web developer, scared to death of heights, loves jazz piano, can bench-press about 20 pounds — with effort, speaks English and Russian fluently, and when not plotting murder and mayhem enjoys steamy romance novels, sexy spy thrillers, murky mysteries and movies where things frequently blow up. 

You can find Fiona at her website:  www.fionajayde.com

Her newest book, Cold Victory, is a space opera/erotic romance published by Loose I. D. and, please, continue reading after the saucy excerpt, to catch up with this fabulous author! Remember, if you leave a comment, you are entered in a chance to win a $15 gift card from Amazon!

 

BLURB:

Commander Galen Stark never expected the convicted pilot on his ship to be anything more then a good looking inconvenience. A small brush of their hands grips him with vicious lust, a need he can’t control. She is his bloodmate – a biological reaction burning through his veins.

Except she carries an explosive. And Stark may have to give the order to destroy them all. 

EXCERPT:

“Excuse me, Commander.” Those gold eyes flared. “Perhaps you were misled about their skill level. Most of them never had field experience. Their battle skills were taught in hologames.”

Stark had to get away from her before his damned glands forced him into doing something stupid. Like kissing her. F**king her breathless. Feeling her shuddering around him as she came. “So noted.”

“Right.” A bitter smirk. Those eyes went dull again, as if he were responsible for leeching out the light inside them. “Your job is to give orders and coordinate attacks. You don’t know who is out there dying.”

He couldn’t breathe without taking in her heat, couldn’t think beyond the words she hurled at him. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t know their names or anything about them. They’re just soldiers. They’re trained to follow orders.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he roughly pulled at the sleeve of his undershirt, exposing neat rows of tattoos. “I don’t know them.” He shook his head, battling arousal, emotion, and frustration. “I just count their deaths.”

Silence. He was an idiot to lose control like this, to share the part of himself which he’d always kept hidden. He was an idiot to need her to understand the only way he could grieve. He was an idiot to feel this raw, sexual pull toward her.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” Her voice thick, her eyes shattered, Zoya lightly touched the dots on his upper arm.

Shock rippled on his skin, pinpricks of heat and vicious, coiled lust. He nearly staggered, fighting the dark urge to cover her lush mouth while his body primed to take, to feast. Her eyes flared wide, yet she didn’t pull her arm away when his fingers closed around her wrist.
“You shouldn’t touch me.” Her pulse beat hard under his fingertips, her skin like warm, smooth silk. He gave her time to back away, to rip her arm away, say something cutting. Yet she did nothing, simply looked up at him with hot, unguarded eyes, her mouth vulnerable and soft, seconds from his.

Flashes of skin, hot gripping palms, moist hungry lips. Stark didn’t know when he pressed her against a bulkhead, when her hands clutched his shoulders, when her ragged breaths became his own. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t take a breath, couldn’t tear himself away from ravaging her lips, plunging into the sweet depth of her mouth.

Her scent was like a potent drug pumping into his veins. Lips fused, tongues mated, he kissed her like a starving man, as if both their lives depended on it. Cupping her head, he held her steady for his onslaught, fighting himself, fighting against the soft, hitched breaths she made against his mouth. Even as someone screamed inside his head about duty and protocol, the beast inside him wouldn’t let him stop.

My interview with the delightful Fiona Jayde!

Tamela: After reading the excerpt of Cold Victory, I would like to know what was the inspiration behind the story?

Fiona:You know, I usually don’t get a single point of inspiration. Some stories are like that – you get a general theme or setting but it takes a bit to flesh out a story. I knew I wanted to do a sci-fi, and I knew it involved some sort of war. They why’s of it I had no idea.

Sometimes, I get a scene in my head, and then I have to work backwards to figure out how in heck my characters got themselves into a mess in the first place. For Cold Victory, that scene was in the middle half of the book, where my hero – Galen Stark finds that he inadvertently left the heroine – who he is convinced has betrayed him – in physical pain. I could all but feel him being torn in half by duty to his men and the blooming feelings for this woman he considered a traitor. Two grueling months later, I answered the question as to why Zoya betrayed him – she had a damned good reason – and what he was going to do about it.

That single scene sparked the entire story.

Tamela: Not to sound like a chauvinist, but  Sci-Fi and the likes are not among the normal female author’s genre.

Fiona: I think that is the beauty of Romance – we can combine all sorts of genres under the Romance umbrella. Slayers and vampires? Check. Werewolves in space? You got it.

I think this is one of the many pluses of e-publishing – as long as the ideas are flowing, the possibilities are literally endless. Modern romances are not only about the spunky secretary and the Greek millionaire boss, but also about kickass women, badass men, tortured heroes and wounded heroines. In the end, they all get their happy ending.

I think it was Morgan Hawke who once said that erotic romance is really about a man and a woman going on adventure together. And I think she is absolutely right.

Tamela:  Fi, you appears to have quite an extensive background.  Did you employ any of this in your book?

Fiona: Since the pilot talent is mostly in my imagination, I had to draw from my vast experience of organizing my Netflix que to really feel what it was like to be in a space dogfight, or have enemy fighters close in. Netflix is a terrific research tool!

I think the main plus of having a diverse background is really ability to expand on it in terms of visualizing new places and learning new skills. I can’t tell left from right, but I thought I faked being a hot-shot pilot quite well:) And somehow I tend to name my characters with Russian names.

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Stormy weather…maybe it’s time to bake?

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 9, 2010

It’s Tuesday and, for all my darling readers, I hope many of you aren’t bogged down in that fabulous snow that has darted through the Middle and Eastern United States.  I have a dear cousin and a little brother that have kept me posted with photographs of the blizzard like conditions in Ohio and Pennsylvania and I shudder at the thought of being so darn cold! 

The fotos of the snow storm reminded me of the first month I arrived in Texas, escaping an accustomed -3 F. in Darmstadt, Germany and basking in the unfamiliar warmth of 68 degrees.

I’ve become an admitted weak sauce, over the last twenty plus years.  I’ve adapted to my climate and forgotten the chill of the Northern world.  All I can say is shame on me.

I vow, to each and every one of you, I will never again *&^(*&^$% about the weather in the Southwest.   Yes, we have our drizzlings of snow (the last time we had 21 inches was in 1987), 115 F temperatures during the summer (1995 was a miserably hot year) , torrential monsoon rains (2005) and our annual 50 mph winds during the spring.   I’ve become a softy at my current age and, if the weather becomes any colder here, I may wind up living in the Bahamas by the time in 70. **Grin**

The freezing cold can be battled in a way I love the most.  If I’m graced with the fact that the power is still on,  it’s time for baking.  My weakness is homemade bread and sweet cream butter, a hardy lasagna or enchilada casserole, followed by hot chocolate or a freshly baked blueberry/raspberry pie. (Did I mention I make a stellar homemade sugar crust?)  Since The Weather Channel is  insisting everyone is due for more snow, I’m offering this recipe from across the miles with even warmer wishes of sunshine.

CHEATER ENCHILADA CASSEROLE

Many years ago, while at work, one of the local lovelies came in with this dish for a office buffet dinner we were holding. She was extremely proud of herself for having made an Anglo influenced dish and I did not have the heart to tell her how horrible it really was. Since then, I have had numerous enchilada casseroles which were horrible, grease ladened dishes. I found they were basically an over salted excuse of a casserole made with leftover tostada chips and cooked to a dripping, soggy mess. There has always been a distinct promise in the flavor though and, with some  testing, I came up with this winner.

2 lbs. ground hamburger meat (the leanest meat you can purchase)

1 medium sized onion

Peel and finely chop the onion. Brown and crumble the ground hamburger meat with the onion in a large Dutch oven. When the hamburger meat is no longer pink, drain whatever oil that may have appeared. Cover tightly and continue to simmer on low for a half hour. Drain any residual oil.

Add:

2 (28 ounce) cans red or green enchilada sauce

1 (8 ounce) can of tomato sauce

8 ounces of water

1 teaspoon garlic

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cumin or 2 envelopes dry taco seasoning mix

In a mixing bowl, blend the two cans of enchilada sauce

with the tomato sauce. Add the water, garlic, salt and seasoning to the sauces. Stir all ingredient into the Dutch oven, mixing thoroughly with the hamburger meat. Cover and let sauce simmer for a half hour.

30 corn tortillas

2 lbs. shredded Mexican style cheese

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Layer a lightly oiled 9×13 casserole dish with 6 corn tortillas (as if you were preparing lasagna).

Ladle the hamburger/enchilada sauce evenly over the corn tortillas. Top the sauce evenly with 1/4 lb. of the shredded cheese. Top the cheese with 6 more evenly spaced corn tortillas. Repeat the layers until the corn tortillas are all used. Top the last corn tortilla layer with the remaining sauce and shredded cheese, being careful  to not overfill the casserole dish.

Bake in 350 degree oven for 45 minutes.

Let set for five minutes before cutting.

Serve in wedges with sour cream and refried beans.

**This recipe and more can be found in I Can’t Cook Because I’m a White Girl at Amazon.com.  Just click on the book cover listed in the side bar**

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The exciting drama of Patches of Grey, by Author Roy L. Pickering

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 7, 2010

My special guest author today is Roy L. Pickering.  He brought me his wonderful novel, Patches of Grey, to spotlight. Patches of Grey can be purchased at the following vendors:

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0578005816

Mahogany Books – http://mahoganybooks.com/index.php/patches-of-grey.html

 {INDIE}PENDENT BOOKS http://www.indiependentbooks.com

Patches of Grey chronicles an African American family struggling to make ends meet.  Tanya is figuring out the demands of love, C.J. is entangled in gang culture, and Tony attempts to establish his own identity under the imposing shadow of their father.  When life unravels, will the blood they share be strong enough to hold them together?

Roy L. Pickering Jr. lives in New Jersey with his wife and daughter.  His prose can be found at http://RoyPickering.net.  Roy’s novella Feeding the Squirrels is published as an ebook by SynergEbooksPatches of Grey is his debut novel.

EXCERPT:

Lionel pushed the button for his building’s elevator, which had an annoying habit of breaking down at the most inopportune times. To his relief the doors opened right away. He stepped in, pressed the button for his floor, and leaned back to better appreciate the havoc being played on his senses by recently consumed whiskey. After spending the day walking through a frigid north wind on a picket line, he had been sorely in need of something to warm him up and mellow him out. Once again, McCann’s bar came through in a pinch.

As the doors were closing, a hand reached in between them. They re-opened, and in walked his wife’s friend. A single glance told Ellen everything there was to know about Lionel’s condition, and told Lionel that Ellen would be giving him grief over it.

“Let me get some coffee into you,” she said, no trace of hospitality in the offer. “Maybe we can make you semi-sober before you go home.”

“It’s my home and I’ll walk in any way I damn well please.”

“Well I want to talk to you first.”

“About what?” asked Lionel.

“About your family.”

“What business is that of yours?” The opening of the elevator momentarily silenced Lionel. Ellen wasn’t the only nosy neighbor he had.

“Let’s continue this in my place,” she said, gently tugging on his arm until they were inside her apartment. “I’ll make you that coffee.”

“To hell with coffee. You got something to say, let’s hear it.”

Lionel surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. What he found was himself, for much of the wall space was covered by mirrors. Some of them masqueraded as art, the rest pretended to be nothing more than the odes to vanity that they were. Her furniture came in a variety of neon colors, most of the pieces faux leather. Ellen’s home perfectly reflected Lionel’s opinion of her. Tacky, loud and cheap.

“I know the strike is tough on you,” she said. “It’s hard enough to make ends meet nowadays when you are working.”

“I’m glad you know so much. Now if you don’t mind…”

“None of that gives you the right to abuse your family.”

Ellen took off her coat. As usual, the outfit she wore underneath revealed more than it concealed. She was dressed in the fashion of women fifteen years her junior. Her hair had recently been dyed an obscene blonde, as if anyone could possibly be fooled. She gestured for Lionel to have a seat, but he ignored her and waited to hear what else she had to say.

“I heard you tried to start a fight with Tony the other day. What kind of father are you? What kind of man are you, pushing around the people who are supposed to matter most to you, who you’re supposed to be taking care of? Maybe Caren’s willing to stand there and take it, but I’m not about to let that happen.”

She took a step forward, getting right in Lionel’s face. He had to give credit where it was due. The woman had balls.

“I’ll call the police the next time. I’ll get a gun and shoot you dead myself if necessary. But I will not let you mistreat them any longer.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Lionel said, his voice as serene as an ivory cloud concealing the tip of a brewing volcano. Before Ellen could say another condemning word, Lionel walked out. Rather than feeling assured that she had done good, Ellen was left to wonder if her judgement would prove costly to those she had aimed to protect.

As Ellen worried, Lionel marched briskly home. A man’s place was at the head of his household and it was essential that this be recognized. God was worshipped first and foremost because of the fear His power elicited. People might praise His infinite capacity for love, but it wasn’t love that brought them to their knees in obedient prayer. When Lionel entered his kitchen he found Caren setting the table for dinner. A dinner the money she earned had paid for. What need did she have to be grateful to her husband, except for the merciful restraint he showed? But in order for the restraint to be acknowledged, a hint of power had to be displayed. Caren must be reminded of the fear.

“So I’m a real bastard, is that it?”

Lionel answered his own question by flipping over the dinner table, sending dishes and silverware clattering to the checkered linoleum floor. “How dare you tell Ellen I abuse you?”

Caren was momentarily distracted from the question by the mess her husband had created. A few plates and glasses had been broken. Fortunately, she had not yet placed any food on the table.

“I never said such a thing.”

“I don’t care how crazy she is. She didn’t come up with that shit off the top of her head. She was quoting you.”

“I told her you’ve been on edge because of the strike,” Caren said. It would be no easy task to douse Lionel’s anger. She would probably have to settle for stifling her agitation at Ellen for poking her nose where it didn’t need to be. Caren knew that her friend had well meaning intentions, but stirred up trouble pays little heed to the purpose of its instigator.

“I break my back every day for this family. All I ask for in return is a hot meal and just maybe a little respect. You think I treat you bad? You don’t know what bad is. But you seem to want to find out.”

Caren was aware that the right choice of subservient words could placate Lionel. But thoughts had been placed in her head lately that she was unable to wish away, and these thoughts urged her to challenge rather than concede. Perhaps the self-respect fostered by her job of the past several months played a large part. Day by day, the woman who allowed herself to be intimidated by her husband was fading away. In her place, a woman who was just beginning to recognize her own value after four decades of living now stood. This woman was tired of such tirades, and even more tired of rationalizing her husband’s occasional cruelty. Ellen was right. Lionel’s reign as tyrant had gone on long enough.

“I’ve got to run back and forth between work and keeping this place up,” Caren said. “You know what thanks I get? A drunken husband screaming at me like a baby who wants his bottle. You want a hot meal? Go eat it off the stove.”

She tried to leave the room, but Lionel stuck out his arm to prevent her exit. It was then that Tony stepped into the kitchen, unheard over his parents’ argument and shielded from view behind his father’s tensed back.

“Don’t you walk out on me,” said Lionel.

He could not allow the matter to end on Caren’s terms. It was not supposed to have gone like this. Where was the remorse, the groveling for forgiveness? His wife needed to learn what life had taught him a long time ago. Pride would be knocked right out of a person who didn’t have enough sense to hold it in check when necessary.

Caren read his eyes and found herself at peace in the retina of the tempest. Like the most experienced of sailors, she knew that nature’s wildness could not be fought, only waited out.

“What are you gonna do, hit me? Go ahead then. Get it over with if that’s what it will take.”

Caren staggered backward from the blow which followed, tripped over an outstretched table leg, and fell to the floor. Tony wrapped his arms around his father like a boa constrictor suffocating its prey.

“Who is this? Get off me. Get off me or else.”

Tony ignored the commandment, holding on as if the fate of the universe depended on his grip.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” Though his words were still acerbic, Lionel had ceased to physically struggle against the vise he was in. He was too drunk, and his son too strong with desperation. Nevertheless, Tony held on even tighter.

“You’re going to regret this, boy.”

Tony did not doubt that the truth had been stated, but refused to acknowledge it. No one would be allowed to harm his mother, not even the man he feared most.

“Let him go, Tony.”

His mother’s soft spoken request accomplished what his father’s threats could not. Tony backed away from Lionel, hyper-alert to whatever might happen next. Lionel did not bother to look his son’s way, but simply walked out of the kitchen and left the apartment.

Caren knew exactly where he was headed and what he would do. Her husband would drink until his wallet was empty. Then he would come home, shamed and drunk enough to be willing to apologize in order to coax her into making love. She was used to the ritual and accepted it as she did the sun rising each morning.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked as he helped her up.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll never let him hit you again.”

Caren’s sudden burst of indignation had just as swiftly disappeared, replaced by a need to pacify and explain.

“Your father has a lot to deal with right now. He’s angry about the strike and this is the only place he can let it out.”

“He has no right to take it out on you.”

“We’re his family. If he can’t count on us, who can he count on?”

Tony shook his head. Not only was his mother not distraught, but she seemed to have accepted what had happened and was asking him to do the same.

“You forgive him for everything.”

“Of course I do. That’s what love is.”

Caren ran her hand through Tony’s hair. She could see the hate in his eyes and wanted to remove it. No boy should hate his father. Life was tough enough as it was.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, and so does your father. Promise me you’ll try to understand him.”

“I’ll try,” Tony said, not caring if he sounded sincere. He understood his father’s brand of love well enough. It was based on orders being followed, his presence being trembled before. But the day hopefully was soon coming when it would no longer reduce Tony to a petrified child.

Mother and son stood in loving embrace. Caren reflected on what she had just said. That’s what love is. Moments earlier she lay on the floor, her hand covering the handle of a fork. She had imagined shoving the tongs into her husband’s eye. If Tony had not come into the room, if Lionel had advanced to finish teaching his lesson, would her fingers have let go before bad grew irreparably worse? She didn’t know the answer so she silently made the same promise she had asked of her son. All was lost once people could no longer forgive.

 

Praise for Patches of Grey:

Pickering s talent is astonishing and ignores every precedent. – AlvahsBooks

Pickering s love for his characters makes us empathize with all of their plights – FiveBouroughBooks

Pickering’s writing style will cause readers to empathize with the characters’ actions, no matter how wrong. – RAWSISTAZ Reviewers

The plot kept smashing my soul into pieces. – Books & Wine

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Lucien’s tale came in the Top 5 for January 2010!

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 6, 2010

Oooh, Wild Horse Press  just sent me the fantastic news today that Angel’s Fire, Demon’s Blood came in the Top 5 for the month of January 2010!

The dramatic paranormal romance is the tale of a centuries old curse, cast upon twin brothers who must determine whether darkness or light shall govern the world.  Angel’s Fire, Demon’s Blood is available in PDF, Kindle, Kindle for Computer, and Paperback at   http://wildhorsepress.webs.com/  or http://www.amazon.com/Angels-Fire-Demons-Blood-ebook/dp/B001RCTE6Q.

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The updated Paranormal Romance Author and Book listing–Feb 4, 2010

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 5, 2010

Paranormal Romance Author, Melanie Nowak of Almost Human fame, keeps a wonderful list on Amazon of Paranormal Romance Authors and their books.  It’s a beautifully researched, extensive list that all readers of PNR should have readily on hand.
 
Over the past few weeks, the list has grown by phenomenal leaps and bounds, making it impossible for me to show it in it’s entirity on my WordPress Site. Nevertheless, I will keep all my readers up-to-date on additions Melanie makes to this wonderful listing!
 
Despite everything, dear readers, do not become discouraged! 
 
I invite you to become a member at the Paranormal Romance Forum on Yahoo Groups and obtain your own copy of this fantastic list, as well as meeting some fabulous authors and great friends that share their love for the paranormal!
 
 Yahoo Group Home page:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/PNRList
Go there to read about the group and click the Join button to become a member.
 
Amazon listing, beautifully updated by Melanie Nowak

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Author Roxanne Smolen stops by for an interview!

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 5, 2010

Recently, I had an author call for my site and author Roxanne Smolen contacted me. Roxanne will be appear in the near future to blog about one of her fantastic novels, among which are Resort Debauch, Watery Deep, Mortar’s Keep, Prajna and Fracture.  Join me in this wonderful opportunity to meet Roxanne!

TAMELA: Thanks for joining me today.  To get us started can you please start by telling us a little about what you are working on or have coming out? 

ROXANNE:  Thank you, Tamela.  It’s a pleasure to be here.  I have a new book coming out in late spring with L & L Dreamspell.  It’s called SATAN’S MIRROR, and it’s about the host of a paranormal television show whose daughter is kidnapped by Satan and how she breaks into Hell to get her daughter back.

TAMELA: Could you please start by telling us a little about yourself? 

ROXANNE:  Sure.  I’ve been writing stories and poetry since I was old enough to hold a pencil, but I didn’t start writing novels until ten years ago.  I think of myself as a science fiction author, but I rarely write straight sci fi.  I like to blur the edges a bit, mix it up with other genres.  So my Anneliese Thielman Trilogy is a blend of science fiction, romance, and ghosts.  My Colonial Scouts Adventures is young adult sci fi adventure.  And SATAN’S MIRROR is science fiction, horror, and a liberal dose of mythology.

TAMELA:  If you could be one of the characters from your books – Who would you be?  And why?

ROXANNE:  That’s easy.  I would love to be Impani from my Colonial Scouts Adventures.  She’s young, beautiful, and her tongue is as sharp as her wit.  I had a lot of fun creating her.

TAMELA:  Who or what influenced you when you wrote your books?  Did you have a CD, Songs, environment, etc?

ROXANNE:  Actually, I like to play movie soundtracks as I write.  For the Anneliese Thielman books, I listened to Jurassic Park.  The Colonial Scouts called for the Pirates soundtracks, especially since the last book, WATERY DEEP, has pirates in it.  Really put me in the mood.

TAMELA:  Can you please give us a sneak peek into the book?

ROXANNE:  WATERY DEEP is about two teenage girls, Natica and Impani, who work for the Colonial Scouts searching the galaxy for habitable planets.  They were best friends until an accident took the life of a colonist.  Now Natica is consumed by guilt, and she hates Impani for not understanding.  She quits the Scouts and returns home, only to find her clueless ex-friend has followed her.

     Natica lay on her back on the deck of her sailboat, thinking about Impani—little Miss Perfect with her perfect record and her perfect face, all the boys tagging after her like puppies.  Even Trace.  Handsome, broad-shouldered Trace.  He couldn’t really love Impani—he was too smart for that.  But deep inside, she knew he did.
     Natica wished she could save him, wished she could show him what having a real girlfriend was like.  She wished he would love her—but who was she kidding?  She’d never have a boyfriend as loyal as Trace.  Probably never have a boyfriend at all with Impani around.  Perfectly clueless Impani getting all the attention.
     She hoped she never saw her again.
     Abruptly, the heat seemed unbearable.  Natica splashed her face and sat looking out over the sea.  She was glad she came home—the solitude, the silence, no one asking anything of her.  She should have come home sooner.  If she had, maybe that man on Fungus World would still be alive.
     And maybe her brother would not have run away from home.
     She winced.  Oh, Eury.  It was all her fault.  Everything was because of her.

     Impani sat at the kitchen table while Mrs. Galos pulled bunches of kelp from the refrigerator and stacked them on the counter.  She liked Natica’s mother—liked the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her hands flittered about as she spoke.  Impani never felt more welcomed, more at ease.  She wished she’d had a mother like her when she was growing up.
     Yet, something Mrs. Galos said nagged her—she’d expected Natica to marry and start a family right out of school.  But Natica offered so much as a Scout.  Didn’t her mother see what a difference she made?
     Even more reason to save her, Impani thought.  Natica wasn’t meant to be housebound—she was an explorer with her heart in the stars.  She just needed a good talking to, needed someone to show her the way.
     Through the distortion of the fish-eyed window, she saw Natica pull up in a small boat.  She wore a baggy, plaid shirt that she tied at her waist.  A wide hat shaded her face.  She secured the boat to the dock, hooked her hat over a post, and opened the kitchen door.
     Her face fell as her eyes lit on Impani.
     Impani stood uneasily from the kitchen table, a greeting stuck in her throat.  Natica didn’t look happy to see her.  In fact, for a moment, Impani thought she looked enraged.
     “Impani,” Natica said, “you can’t just—”
     “Of course, I can.”  Impani shrugged.  “What are friends for?”
     Tears filled Natica’s eyes, and she drooped, looking defeated.  Smiling, Impani embraced her.
     “Glory be,” her mother said.  “You’d think someone had died.”
     Natica glanced at her as if wounded, crying harder.  Impani patted her shoulder.  She was glad she’d come.  Natica was falling apart.  She needed her.
     Mrs. Galos made shooing motions.  “Out of my kitchen, both of you.  Best get upstairs and washed.”
     Natica sniffled, wiping her eyes.  Without a word, she led the way out of the room.
     “Impani,” Mrs. Galos called after them, “I expect you will stay with the family for the duration of your vacation.”
     “I don’t want to be a bother,” Impani said.
     “Nonsense.  What’s one more child?”
     Natica groaned, increasing her pace as if to leave Impani behind.  She climbed a wide, spiral staircase, taking the steps by two, with Impani rushing to keep pace.
     Identical twin boys, perhaps eight years old, bounded down the steps as they were going up.  They had Natica’s pale blue eyes.  Their hair was light, framing their faces with sun-streaked curls.
     “Hello,” they chimed in the same pitch.  “Dinnertime.”
     Impani grinned at them and continued up the stairs, reaching the landing just as Natica entered a room.  She hurried after her.
     “Lights,” Natica called.
     A golden glow imbued the room.  Impani glanced about, but could not see the source of the light.  Unpainted coral textured the walls.  A porthole let in the sea air.  Cushions and a bedroll cluttered the floor.
     In the corner, a low table held a picture frame.  Impani picked it up—it showed Natica with reddish blonde, wavy hair and a boy who looked exactly like her.
     “You never told me you had a twin,” Impani said.
     “That’s Eury.”  Natica snatched the picture away and set it back on the table.  She plopped down upon the cushions, face in her hands.  “Why did you follow me?”

TAMELA:  What kind of research did you do for this book?  Did you enjoy the research process?

ROXANNE:  I had the most fun researching for WATERY DEEP.  Most of the book takes place on a water world with cities that float on the surface, so I had to figure out what would make that scientifically feasible.  Also, I wanted the pirates to speak in a clipped manner, almost too fast to follow.  So I used the language one would use while texting, and I had to be certain of the idiom.

TAMELA:  Please tell us what you have planned next.

ROXANNE:  I’m working on a teen romance where the boy happens to be a werewolf.  It’s lighthearted and humorous.  Also, I’m writing from the viewpoint of the boy, and that’s been a blast.

TAMELA:  What would you like to tell your readers?

ROXANNE:  I’d like to say thank you.  Sincerely.  I get email from all around the world filled with praise and encouragement, and they mean more to me than I can tell.  Without readers, writers would be nothing.

TAMELA:  Do you belong to a critique group?  If so, how does this help or hinder you?

ROXANNE:  Writers need readers, that’s a given.  But just as important, writers need other writers.  Your family might tell you that your chapter isn’t working, but they can’t tell you why.  Another writer can.  I’ve belonged to the same critique group for many years.  We meet face to face once a week.  Not only do they tell me how to fix a chapter, they force me to have one ready.  I can’t blow off writing for a week because I have out of town guests.  For me, that’s a plus.

TAMELA:  Thanks for joining me.  Before you go please tell our readers how they can get your books and how to keep abreast of your work.  Do you have a website, newsletter, etc?

ROXANNE:  It’s been my pleasure.  Thank you for having me.  My books are at most bookstores: Amazon, Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble, Fictionwise.  You will find links at my website, http://www.roxannesmolen.com.  And I would love to have everyone follow me at http://twitter.com/roxannesmolen and http://www.facebook.com/roxanne.smolen.  I follow back.

 

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Chiron calls to all of us to Face the Truth

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 4, 2010

Hello Friends!

Chiron O’Keefe is back with her phenomenal magic and an excerpt for this week’s essay.  If you haven’t taken the time yet, drop by The Write Soul at http://www.chironokeefe.blogspot.com and follow this fantastic author. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed by the magic that flows from her pen!

Face the Truth

An excerpt:
*******************
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” –T.S. Elliot

Along with every other writer, I’ve discovered something incredible. I didn’t know if I could write a chapter, and I did. Didn’t know if I could write a book—I’ve written four. Each risk, leads to Something. How far can we go? As far as our wings will take us.

“You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on.” –Ray Bradbury

The more we write, the better we get. That, perhaps is the only sure thing about writing. And, in my oh-so-humble opinion, this is fantastic. Everything else is a risk except that one thing. Every Time We Write, We Improve Our Writing.

Excellent! But, WHAT do we write? Do we write to please others or to please ourselves?

Jump to The Write Soul:  http://www.chironokeefe.blogspot.com  for the complete essay and read the late, great editor Kate Duffy’s answer to this eternal question.

See you there!

Happy Writing!

–Chiron O’Keefe

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My Review of The Sin Eater’s Prince

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 4, 2010

Ms. Diablo has never disappointed me on any of her reads and The Sin Eater’s Prince  tops all of her previously written works.  When Keta promises to deliver a stunning read, she does just that, where the pages threaten to burst into vibrant flames and leaves the reader begging for more!

Set among the ancient Welsh background and folklore, I was captured by the tale of Owen Rhys, reviled in his small village, despite the fact that he draws the sins of the living from their bodies before they meet their maker. 

Owen’ sole friend is the physician’s assistant, Carys. Through Carys, Owen has meet the gorgeous healer Andras. Despite the lore of a sin eater, Andras holds a secret of his own, the curse of the vampire. 

Ms. Diablo’s novel has all my favorite pulls, it’s plot driven, involves ancient lore and fables, has a paranormal story line, and drips with sultry and sexual decadence.

For fans of deliciously erotic and paranormal fiction, Ms. Diablo’s book is a must read and worth 5 stars!

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Superbowl is coming up this Sunday. Are YOU prepared?

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 3, 2010

Superbowl is airing this Sunday and the world will come to a dead standstill, houses will ring with the shouts of avid fans, all believing their cheer or call will complete that much needed pass and their team will emerge victorious.  Those of us that are responsible for the meal, the piles of snacks, dips, chips, and beer are thinking over what our menu will be, preferably something short and sweet and taking the least amount of time to prepare. 

By tradition, I’m not an avid football fan.  The Army/Navy game is the entire stint of what I watch, due to the conflicting teams having supporting members so deep in my family.  My husband’s side of the family is Navy and I am a proud Army brat, from a long, long line of even prouder soldiers.

This game, though, is an exception.  For one year, I will delight in the fact that my husband’s team is not at the Superbowl.  Now, before you all get your panties in a bunch, saying I’m betraying the God-Given team of Texas, I need to remind you of something.   I was born back east, in the great land of the Liberty Bell and the United States Constitution.  I was majorly irked when he asked me, during one infamous game, how I wanted my Eagle served…with mashed potatoes or fries, for the third time of the season. 

Okay, they had a bad year, let it go.

Thus, I will be there, glued to the set while I watched the New Orleans Saints battle the Indianapolis Colts. It doesn’t matter who wins, it’s just a game.  A game where I will enjoy every moment, every huddle, ever hit, while I remind my husband who didn’t make it this year. 

Meanwhile, in the midst of that, I am the assigned cook. 

CHILE CON QUESO

This seems to be a must at all parties held in the Southwest. For some reason, if this cheese sauce is not available, the party seems to be lacking.

When I was a teenager in the 70’s (oops), I had always assumed Chile con queso meant the chili beans you put on a hot dog with some cheese sauce. I learned years later that chili meant beans with meat and chile meant exactly that—spicy peppers.

To all you native Texans—no, I ain’t from New York City…

1 (32 ounce) block of a Processed Pasteurized Cheese, (again, it does not have to be name brand). If you are one of those blessed people with a Costco or Sam’s Club Membership, purchase the economy size can of cheese sauce. Half of this can be used and I refrigerate the unused portion for later.

Butter

1 small onion, peeled and finely diced

3 small tomatoes, washed and finely diced

15 jalapeno peppers or a similarly spicy pepper

milk

Stem and wash the chile peppers, then finely dice the peppers. Finely dice the onion and the tomato and add to the jalapeno peppers. If using the Processed Pasteurized cheese, cut the block  into 1×1 inch squares. Place the cheese into a crock pot, set to low heat. Add approximately 1 cup of milk to the cheese. Stir and cover the crock pot.

(NOTE:  If using the canned cheese sauce, place about half the can of cheese into the crockpot and add approximately 2 cups of milk, stirring until blended)

In a heavy skillet on low heat, melt a tablespoon of butter.

Add the finely diced jalapeno peppers, the tomatoes and the onion. Lightly sauté until the onion becomes transparent and the Jalepeno peppers (if you use those) become a dull olive-green. Pour the ingredients of the skillet, with the butter, into the crock pot. Stir until well mixed and cover.

Check on the cheese sauce roughly every 1/2 hour, stirring, until the cheese is melted and creamy. Keep the cheese on warm until serving time, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching. Keep an eye on the cheese sauce because it will burn around the edges of the pot.

All depending on how you like your cheese sauce, you may add more milk to taste. Stir before serving. Serve hot with tostadas or corn chips.

This should feed a small army and you can always make a bowl without the peppers for the kids.

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Quackers & Tease invites you to come on over!

Posted by Tamela Quijas on February 2, 2010

I wanted to share a new and glorious website with my readers, entitled Quackers & Tease.  Hosted by a quote “rather odd bunch of Quackers; an interesting blend of: aspiring writer, new writer, and a few established writers”, Quackers & Tease is filled with ”diverse peeps bringing diverse exposition”.     Beautiful women run this site, among them Keta Diablo (who I’ve featured here), Hales Levey, Samantha Gail and Phoebe Jordan.

I’m proud to count myself among one of their delightful numbers!

I invite you to come by this enchanting website and hope you’ll drop in often. One of those lovely contributors will be blogging every week about various, speckled topics, offering an occasional book review or maybe something humorous. 

Join Us at http://quackersandtease.blogspot.com

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