The Toronto Blue Jays clinched a thrilling 4-3 Game 7 victory over the Seattle Mariners in the ALCS. It’s their first American League pennant since 1993 and sets up a World Series showdown against the Los Angeles Dodgers.
A long-awaited return to the Fall Classic for Canada’s team.
I’m happy to welcome multi-published author Mary Lawlor. Today, Mary shares her creative journey and new release, Fighter Pilot’s Daughter.
Here’s Mary!
What was your inspiration for this book?
I grew up in a military family. We moved every two years or so, according to the Defense Department’s demands—packed up every cup, plate, sweater and picture and put them in boxes. The movers would come and take everything out of the house, our furniture too, and there we’d be, in an empty house for a day or two until we drove or flew away to the next posting. We mostly lived in military quarters and never had our own home. My father was a pilot in the Marine Corps and the Army, so we had to go wherever the government determined he was needed—Miami, Alabama, North Carolina, California, and several other places. By the time I was ready for college, I’d been to 14 schools—a bewildering way to grow up.
Initially my mother thought it was an adventurous life—she was always meeting new people, and seeing different parts of the country. She felt there was a certain glamor to being a fighter pilot’s wife. Over time, she grew more frustrated with the moving and never having a house of her own. And our family was totally identified with my Dad’s work. Mom had a very strong personality, was well-read, smart and funny, but she couldn’t work, couldn’t have a career of any kind, and really had to follow the orders sent down from the Pentagon that determined my father’s moves. There was a lot of tension in our house because of that. And my father was away from home a lot of the time—on a ship off the coast of Guatemala waiting an invasion to begin, or in northern Turkey investigating a fly-over of the Soviet border, or somewhere close to the border with East Germany, keeping tuned to news from the Fulda Gap. In these and other situations too frightening for my sisters and I to know about, he kept us in suspense from far away. We were happy when he came home, but without meaning to, he frightened us. He’d walk through the door, his head nearly touching the ceiling, his blue eyes lit with a long-distance gaze. It was like he hadn’t really landed. He had gifts. He told stories. But he wasn’t really home yet, and we weren’t sure who he was.
Outside our household, the Cold War climate kept fear hovering in the air all the time. We were constantly afraid the Russians would invade or set of a nuclear weapon, and the earth would become a nightmare of emptiness, hunger, vicious competitions for survival. Of course, I grew out of those fears and away from the tensions between my parents. By the time I went to college, I no longer took my parents’ religious or social or political beliefs for granted. And college, in Paris, gave me the opportunity to develop and express different ways of thinking and seeing myself. I thought a great deal about the tremendous break I made from my parents. And I thought a lot about the ways their visions stayed with me, in spite of my efforts to lead a different kind of life.
I went to graduate school and got a PhD in literature, which I then taught at university for many years. Through all the phases of my career, the echoes of that upbringing stayed in the background but kept determining patterns in the foreground. I moved a lot. I had tense relationships with boyfriends. I wanted to express myself in writing but didn’t have the confidence. Finally, after studying narratives long enough, I felt I knew how to make one of my own. I needed to sort out my complicated past and make sense of it. The best way to do that was to write it, and thus Fighter Pilot’s Daughter was born.
Which authors have inspired you?
Everybody I read inspires me—the way they clip or supercharge a sentence, the subtlety of their characters’ gestures, the ability of some writers to draw out time and then pace the action so effectively. There’s magic in every book. I’ve learned a lot from two writers whose styles are really quite opposite: Henry James and Ernest Hemingway! James has a great way of detailing a single psychological moment in a character’s perception, while Hemingway knows how to clip language so its sound and rhythm work to make the idea he’s conveying very striking. In both writers, thought, you find a lot of interesting ambiguities—gray areas that make their characters seem all the more human.
More contemporary favorites of mine are Don DeLillo, an amazingly sharp literary artist; and I love the work of Anna Burns, the Irish writer who won the Booker Prize in 2018. She has this wonderful way of creating characters through distinctive voices and tells moving, frightening, instructive tales of life in Northern Ireland. My family heritage is pure Irish, and I’ve lately found myself curious about literature from the island. I’ve found a trove of wonderful writers there: Paul Murray, James Martin Joyce (note the middle name!), Niambh Boyce, Mary Dorcey and others.
Besides writing and reading, what are some of your hobbies?
I like to swim. Since I was very young I’ve been swimmer and still do laps as often as I can. It helps clear my mind and refreshes my body. Walking is another of my favorite things to do. I like to walk uphill for an hour or so at a time, to really get the breathing going. It’s great for thinking and figuring out problems with writing. When I swim, I don’t think. My mind really takes a break. But when I walk, I figure out all kinds of things. It’s a very important way for me to process my stories.
Any advice for aspiring writers?
If you want to write, there’s likely something in your brain that stores language and stories in playful, artful ways. Try to get to know that about yourself and trust it. Educate yourself by reading good writers and by practice. Keep at it, every day. Listen to the words that sail through your mind, however briefly or dimly. They’re worth listening to and using. Remember doubt is part of the process: don’t let it stop you or get you down.
What are you working on next?
I’ve just finished a historical novel called The Translators, based on the actual lives of two medieval priests who traveled from England and Croatia, respectively, to northern Spain in the 1140s. There they met and became intimate friends, learned Arabic and translated works in the libraries that once belonged to the emirs of al-Andalus (what the southern part of the Iberian Peninsula was called when it was Arab and Muslim). I’ve fictionalized much of the priests’ lives for the novel but relied on extensive research on the history of the time. A lot of the tension in the story arises from the Church’s attitude toward the books the priests translate for Christians to read. The climax involves the English priest’s sister, who escapes the chaos of home to meet her brother in France, where she helps him and his friend overcome their personal tensions and, indirectly, resolves their struggles with the Church.
Blurb
FIGHTER PILOT’S DAUGHTER tells the story of the author as a young woman coming of age in an Irish Catholic, military family. Her father, an aviator in the Marines and later the Army, was transferred more than a dozen times to posts from Miami to California to Germany as the government demanded. For her mother and sisters, each move meant a complete upheaval of ordinary life. The car was sold, bank accounts closed, and of course one school after another was left behind. Friends and later boyfriends lined up in memory as a series of temporary attachments. The story highlights the tensions of personalities inside this traveling household and the pressures American foreign policy placed on the Lawlors’ fragile domestic universe.
The climax happens when the author’s father, stationed in southeast Asia while she’s attending college in Paris, gets word that she’s caught up in political demonstrations in the streets of the Left Bank. It turns out her strict upbringing had not gone deep enough to keep her anchored to her parents’ world. Her father gets emergency leave and comes to Paris to find her. The book narrates their dramatically contentious meeting and the journey to the family’s home-of-the-moment in the American military community of Heidelberg, Germany. The book concludes many years later, after decades of tension that had made communication all but impossible. Finally, the pilot and his daughter reunite. When he died a few years later, the hard edge between them had become a distant memory.
Fighter Pilot’s Daughter is available at Amazon.
Here’s what readers are saying about Fighter Pilot’s Daughter!
“Mary Lawlor’s memoir, Fighter Pilot’s Daughter: Growing Up in the Sixties and the Cold War, is terrifically written. The experience of living in a military family is beautifully brought to life. This memoir shows the pressures on families in the sixties, the fears of the Cold War, and also the love that families had that helped them get through those times, with many ups and downs. It’s a story that all of us who are old enough can relate to, whether we were involved or not. The book is so well written. Mary Lawlor shares a story that needs to be written, and she tells it very well.” ―The Jordan Rich Show
“Mary Lawlor, in her brilliantly realized memoir, articulates what accountants would call a soft cost, the cost that dependents of career military personnel pay, which is the feeling of never belonging to the specific piece of real estate called home. . . . [T]he real story is Lawlor and her father, who is ensconced despite their ongoing conflict in Lawlor’s pantheon of Catholic saints and Irish presidents, a perfect metaphor for coming of age at a time when rebelling was all about rebelling against the paternalistic society of Cold War America.” ―Stars and Stripes
Book Excerpt
The pilot’s house where I grew up was mostly a women’s world. There were five of us. We had the place to ourselves most of the time. My mother made the big decisions—where we went to school, which bank to keep our money in. She had to decide these things often because we moved every couple of years. The house is thus a figure of speech, a way of thinking about a long series of small, cement dwellings we occupied as one fictional home.
It was my father, however, who turned the wheel, his job that rotated us to so many different places. He was an aviator, first in the Marines, later in the Army. When he came home from his extended absences—missions, they were called—the rooms shrank around him. There wasn’t enough air. We didn’t breathe as freely as we did when he was gone, not because he was mean or demanding but because we worshipped him. Like satellites my sisters and I orbited him at a distance, waiting for the chance to come closer, to show him things we’d made, accept gifts, hear his stories. My mother wasn’t at the center of things anymore. She hovered, maneuvered, arranged, corrected. She was first lady, the dame in waiting. He was the center point of our circle, a flier, a winged sentry who spent most of his time far up over our heads. When he was home, the house was definitely his.
These were the early years of the Cold War. It was a time of vivid fears, pictured nowadays in photos of kids hunkered under their school desks. My sisters and I did that. The phrase “air raid drill” rang hard—the double-A sound a cold, metallic twang, ending with ill. It meant rehearsal for a time when you might get burnt by the air you breathed.
Every day we heard practice rounds of artillery fire and ordinance on the near horizon. We knew what all this training was for. It was to keep the world from ending. Our father was one of many dads who sweat at soldierly labor, part of an arsenal kept at the ready to scare off nuclear annihilation of life on earth. When we lived on post, my sisters and I saw uniformed men marching in straight lines everywhere. This was readiness, the soldiers rehearsing against Armageddon. The rectangular buildings where the commissary, the PX, the bowling alley, and beauty shop were housed had fallout shelters in the basements, marked with black and yellow wheels, the civil defense insignia. Our dad would often leave home for several days on maneuvers, readiness exercises in which he and other men played war games designed to match the visions of big generals and political men. Visions of how a Russian air and ground attack would happen. They had to be ready for it.
A clipped, nervous rhythm kept time on military bases. It was as if you needed to move efficiently to keep up with things, to be ready yourself, even if you were just a kid. We were chased by the feeling that life as we knew it could change in an hour.
This was the posture. On your mark, get set. But there was no go. It was a policy of meaningful waiting. Meaningful because it was the waiting itself that counted—where you did it, how many of the necessities you had, how long you could keep it up. Imagining long, sunless days with nothing to do but wait for an all-clear sign or for the threatening, consonant-heavy sounds of a foreign language overhead, I taught myself to pray hard.
– Excerpted from Fighter Pilot’s Daughter by Mary Lawlor, Rowman and Littlefield, 2013. Reprinted with permission.
About the Author
Mary Lawlor is author of Fighter Pilot’s Daughter (Rowman & Littlefield 2013, paper 2015), Public Native America (Rutgers Univ. Press 2006), and Recalling the Wild (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2000). Her short stories and essays have appeared in Big Bridge and Politics/Letters. She studied at the American University in Paris and earned a Ph.D. from New York University. She divides her time between an old farmhouse in Easton, Pennsylvania, and a cabin in the mountains of southern Spain.
You can visit her website at https://www.marylawlor.net/ or connect with her on
X or Facebook.
I am happy to welcome author Anna Valleria. Today, Anna shares her new release, Letters Take the Lady.
Blurb
Antigone Sprague, the spirited daughter of a gentleman scholar, has no patience for arrogant lords. So when she meets the reserved and bitingly clever Lord Michael Northram, she’s immediately put off by his condescending manner. She has no idea that he is utterly captivated.
Tongue-tied and overwhelmed by a passion he doesn’t understand, Michael can only confess his feelings in secret poems never meant to see the light of day. But when Antigone begins receiving those very poems from a charming and ambitious suitor, she believes she’s found the man who understands her soul. Believing he has lost her forever, a heartbroken Michael accepts a diplomatic mission to America, unaware that the woman he loves has actually fallen for his words.
Years later, his return to England ignites a shocking reunion and an undeniable spark. But their second chance is built on a foundation of lies. When the truth of the letters emerges, it exposes a scheme of shocking deception, and her spurned suitor reveals a desperate and dangerous side, threatening her very freedom. To win her trust, Michael must finally bridge the gap between the poet on the page and the man by her side, proving he is the hero she’s always deserved.
Excerpt
She liked that he had stopped using her Christian name. For some reason, that felt safer.
“Lord Michael. Remember the bird I told you of when we first met?”
He nodded and she thought she saw recognition, maybe even warmth in his eyes. He really was the most annoyingly unreadable gentleman.
“I cannot be that bird. Please don’t make me. I’m not asking for the moon. I’m not asking for ruin. I merely want an escort to attend a meeting in a public place.” She walked towards him and set her bare hand down on his forearm before she realized what she was doing. Annie recognized only too late her mistake, as she felt a spark start somewhere below her chest and travel throughout her body. She heard Michael’s deep breath, saw his fist clench, and immediately she drew back. She had overstepped, overplayed her hand. He would refuse her now, she thought in despair.
Slowly, he unclenched his fist, turning slightly away from her. “You would have to wear something very plain. What you normally wear would cause a distraction.”
“What I normally wear?” In her indignation, it took her a moment to realize he had agreed.
“I-you are a tall, striking gentlewoman, Antigone—most of the men there will notice that and consider you a distraction. They will resent you for it.”
She opened her mouth to argue back and then closed it. She had never thought that Michael noticed her looks. She felt an odd ping of pleasure that she tried to push away. She despised vanity in all forms, and she willed herself not to take satisfaction in this turn in the conversation, so she nodded and acquiesced. “I can do that.”
Michael held out his hand, as if to shake it in the American style, then seemed to reconsider and began to pull it back. Annie immediately grabbed his hand as if this would seal their agreement and grinned at him. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to return her smile, but his face fell back into stillness and he merely watched her. As she left him, she reflected that the old Michael would likely have laughed her out of the room, and she wondered again what had changed.
Author Bio and Links
Anna Valleria writes historical romance that is sweet with steam. Her stories have been praised for their rich, realistic tone and aching romanticism, reminiscent of classic romance novels. She crafts deeply layered characters, like the honorable heroes and resilient heroines in her Victorian Historical Rogues Fall First series, that will remind you why you fell in love with romance in the first place. Anna was also a runner-up in Dragonblade Publishing’s 2024 “Write Track” Writing Contest, soon to be seen in the Tales of Timeless Love Vol. 4.
A lifelong lover of coffee and writing in cafes, she finds inspiration in the historic city that she lives in.
Visit her website to sign up for her newsletter for exclusive updates and sneak peeks.
Website | Facebook | Pinterest | Amazon Buy Link
I’m happy to welcome author Beth Pellino-Dudzic. Today, Beth shares her new release, Playing Rough.
Blurb
Love. Lies. And the Road to Redemption.
After five months in rehab, Trevor McNaughton is finally sober—and ready to rebuild his life with Gina, the woman who never stopped believing in him. A road trip is meant to be their fresh start, but their plans are quickly derailed when their former publicist, Paul Ryan, emerges with explosive claims: an affair with Gina, dark secrets about their band Perfection, and vicious speculation about their marriage.
As the couple races to contain the fallout, the pressure mounts. Trevor must protect his fragile sobriety while defending the truth. Gina, fierce and unshakable, refuses to let their love be hijacked by lies. All the while, Gina’s cousin and bandmate Rio begs them to return home and help shape the next album—while wannabe rock star Brian Mayfield looms as another potential threat to the narrow threshold they already straddle.
With careers and reputations on the line, Trevor and Gina must confront the ghosts of their past and the chaos of their present. Can love outlast betrayal, and can anything silence a man set on destruction?
Excerpt
They pulled away from their Montecito home when Gina had a realization. “Trev, we know nothing about camping. The closest I can relate is the time my family had to stay at the Hyatt because the Ritz was full. We should stop at one of those huge camping and hunting stores and buy whatever we need.” Trevor agreed. They did some research and then drove to the nearest outdoor supply store.
A salesperson named Jonas recognized them. “What can I assist you with, McNaughtons?”
Gina stared at Jonas, then threw her hands up. “Everything … We have no idea what is needed for an RV trip.” The knowledgeable employee gave them a checklist of necessities and camping equipment. Trevor and Gina trusted him to compile what was needed.
Jonas asked, “How long of a trip are you planning on taking?”
Trevor simply said, “Probably a month, maybe longer.” Jonas also asked if they had an itinerary and RV locations picked out and reserved. The two rockers looked at each other— who knew they needed to reserve a spot? He told them there was a book on RV parks that should help design their plan.
Trevor didn’t vocalize what the exact plan was.
So, Gina suggested hers. “Trevor, I would enjoy driving up the coast, California, Oregon, Washington. We can take in beautiful sights on the way and continue to Vancouver. We can explore a bit of British Columbia and visit your father … and I would like to drive to Boise.”
Author Bio and Links
Beth Pellino-Dudzic was born in the Bronx and grew up in Westchester County, New York. She earned a BA in Business Administration and worked at IBM. She has three adult daughters and a new Granddaughter. She currently lives in Alabama with her husband and their miniature dachshund, Truffle. Although The Perfection Saga is fictional, many of the stories hark back to Beth’s time in the Rock ‘n’ Roll world. Beth’s favorite pastime is football, everything football. She also is an excellent cook and baker.
Website | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Amazon Buy Link
Giveaway
Beth Pellino-Dudzic will be awarding one set of the three books in the series – Playing Hard, Playing High and Playing Rough (international giveaway). Find out more here.
Follow Beth on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.
I’m happy to welcome back author Amber Daulton. Today, Amber shares ten memorable moments from Rubén Lozano, the protagonist of her new release,
Lost in His Spiderwebs.
Here’s Rubén!
Hola, Joanne. Thank you for inviting me to your blog today. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to come. With Lost in His Spiderwebs now released, my life has been more chaotic than usual. Drina—that’s my woman—has conspired against me with our author, Amber. Those ladies have nagged me nearly to death, demanding I help promote the book with guest articles and bullshiii—ah, stuff—like that. They also don’t want me to curse, but a few words might slip in. That’s your warning. So, in the spirit of civility, here I am.
Your Power of 10 series sounded interesting, so I’ve compiled a list of my 10 most memorable moments in chronological order. Some are good moments, others downright awful. Let’s get started.
1. My mother’s death. – She was sleeping around on my father, so when he caught her with her lovers, he killed all three of them. I was furious and devastated over her loss, and by the brutality of it. Once her coffin hit the dirt, I made the decision to stop trying to please Papá. He was a bloodthirsty tyrant, something I’ve never wanted to be.
2. Meeting the love of my life. – A few years later, I met Drina Cabrera when she was working as a barista to put herself through school. I never should’ve asked her out, but one look at her, and I knew I had to have her. The last thing I expected was to fall head over heels for her. She was everything I didn’t deserve—smart, fiery, trusting. Best of all, she had no idea who I was or that I was connected to the most powerful family in Hermosillo. I could just be a normal man around her. It was freeing, despite my stress in trying to keep her in the dark.
3. Losing the love of my life. – All good things must come to an end, as the saying goes. Drina found out the truth, that I was second in line to rule the Lozano Cartel, after my father and older brother. She was as anti-cartel as you could get. Angry and heartbroken, she fled the city. I never thought I would see her again.
4. My sister vanished. – Carmen escaped her abusive prick of a husband and disappeared off the damn map. I searched for her with no luck, but in truth, I didn’t want to find her. Finding her meant she had to return to her husband, and I would rather she be free and out of my life than trapped another day in that sham of a marriage. If you want to learn more about Carmen and the American fugitive she falls in love with, read Dark Hearts Aflame. It’s the first book in the Lozano Cartel series.
5. My marriages. – Remember how I mentioned some of these memories are awful? Well, we’re not done yet. My father, Ovidio, coerced me into an unwanted marriage alliance, just as he did my brother and two younger sisters. The arrangement strengthened the cartel’s hold over our rival’s turf, but I didn’t love my wife. How could I? Drina had stolen my heart. My wife later died in childbirth, and I had to marry again. Then my second wife died. It seemed I was cursed when it came to women.
6. The death of my son. – Aries was stillborn. Losing him was the hardest loss of all. An innocent baby who never had the chance to take a single breath. Life isn’t fair, as I’ve well learned over the years.
7. Taking command of the family business. – All right, now for some better memories. Papá died last year, and my brother died a few years before. If you knew them as I did, you would celebrate their passing, too. As the new leader of the Lozano Cartel, I’m implementing changes and leading my people in a new direction.
8. Drina returns. – I was in the middle of peace negotiations with a rival cartel when I found her at their distribution center. She was their captive, being used as forced labor to package drugs. I couldn’t leave her there, so I did the only thing I could. I bought her. And I kept her.
9. Rebuilding our relationship. – Drina was no longer the starry-eyed innocent girl I once knew. She was stronger now, braver. After the hell she’d endured, she had to be strong, or she wouldn’t have survived. The rekindling of our relationship was filled with tension, mistrust, lots of sex, and the elephant in the room—our past. But I wasn’t about to lose her a second time. I never stopped loving her, as much as I tried.
10. My new family. – Even though Drina fell under my spell, she longed to go home. To her daughter, Sera. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s that I don’t involve children in the business. But I need an heir, a son to raise in my image, and I’m determined Drina will give him to me. So now I have a stepdaughter to care for. I’m going to protect Sera at all costs—for Drina’s sake, and because this girl is much more than what she appears.
All right, I think I’ve given you enough spoilers. Joanne, you and your readers are lucky you’ve caught me on a good day. I’m not usually so forthcoming with information. These memories—these raw, brutal moments—have shaped me into the man I am today. Believe it or not, I like who I am. To some people, I’m a monster. To others, I’m the monster who protects them. No one would ever call me a hero. And that’s fine with me.
Blurb
Kidnapped by the enemy. Bought by the jefe. Will his smoldering touch thaw her frozen heart?
Rubén Lozano, the new leader of the Lozano Cartel, craves peace amidst a legacy of bloodshed and death. He never expected to find his ex-lover, Drina Cabrera, in the clutches of his vicious rivals. Her haunted eyes compel him to rescue her, but freeing her is another matter.
After five months of captivity, Drina trades one captor for another. Though she succumbs to Rubén’s masterful touch, the bittersweet memory of her daughter and the life she was stolen from is a constant wedge between them.
When Rubén’s darkest secret comes out, he will have to wash his hands in crimson. Will Drina let her king face the danger alone, or stand at his side as his cartel queen?
– Book two in the dark romance series, the Lozano Cartel. All the books can be read as a standalone, but are part of an interconnected series.
– Scenes featuring drug distribution, violence, kidnapping, and attempted sexual assault may be uncomfortable for some readers.
– No cheating. HEA guaranteed!
Tagline: The cartel king has finally found his queen.
Excerpt (PG)
(Background Info on Scene: Rubén is hosting a fundraising gala at his home. He’s waiting for Drina to appear, who’s running late.)
Rubén’s words cut off as Manuel whistled. Drina stepped into the room with a confident, fluid grace that masked the uneasiness and tension narrowing her eyes—but he saw it. Her soul was his to bear free.
The chatter dimmed. Heads turned her way.
Dios mío. He couldn’t blame the men for ogling. Her emerald-green satin gown clung to her curves and pushed up her generous cleavage past the heart-shaped neckline. The cap sleeves flared out with sharp, stiff, brocaded wingtips that only a powerful woman could pull off. She did it in spades. From her diamond earrings and black velvet choker to her hair pinned up on one side with jeweled clips and flowing loose on the other, she was sex incarnate. A goddess. Male pride surged right to his core.
Drina strode toward him without gifting her admirers a glance. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She shifted her gaze from Rubén to Enrique and back again. “I had the hardest time deciding if I should wear this. Is it too much?” She slid her hands down the bodice of her gown.
As Enrique laughed, Rubén choked and swallowed hard to find his voice. “No, no. It’s perfect. You look like a queen.” My queen. “The only thing missing is your crown.”
“Thank you for the jewelry. I didn’t see the box until I sat at the vanity to do my makeup.” She fingered her teardrop diamond necklace, then patted her blemished cheek. Foundation and rouge smoothed out the pinkish-brown discoloration. “My scar isn’t fully covered. You’re welcome.”
Sassy woman. What he wouldn’t do to take her upstairs, bury himself between her thighs, and banish his regret for hurting her days earlier? Patience—he needed patience. Once she healed, he would treasure her body so thoroughly he’d wipe their last encounter from her mind.
“Incoming,” Enrique murmured as Manuel, Gerardo, Ferrer, and the others drew near.
Rubén placed his hand on the small of Drina’s back. “Gentlemen, this is Drina Cabrera.” As he rattled off the men’s names and designations, he glared at each of them, silently warning them to behave.
The board members bobbed their heads in greeting, respectful as always.
Gerardo’s gaze dipped to her chest before he jerked it back to her face.
Manuel openly gawked at her and flashed Rubén a lewd grin. “You lucky bastard. How did you get this beauty on your arm?”
“Remember who you’re talking to,” Rubén bit out.
The man’s smile faltered. He grabbed a flute from a waiter’s tray and gulped it down.
Rubén snatched one for Drina and handed it over. “Excuse us while we make our rounds,” he said to the group. Clasping Drina’s arm, he guided her around pockets of his guests to the foyer. “You’re doing well,” he whispered to her. “Keep your head up and back straight. Before the night is over, everyone will know I’ve taken a new woman.”
She pursed her red lips. “Wonderful. What number am I in this long line of mistresses and whores?”
“Third.” He rounded on her and backed her gently against the side of the staircase. “After Ramona and Fay. You’re special, Drina. Everyone will see that.”
Her throat bobbed, the diamond teardrop swaying. “I see. That’s all right, then.”
Buy Links
Direct from the Author | Universal Buy Link
About the Author
Amber Daulton is the author of the Lozano Cartel, the Arresting Onyx, the Embracing You, and the Ramseys in Time series, as well as several standalone novellas. Her books are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.
Hippie Mermaid is officially available today!
Blurb
From sea to shore, betrayal follows her wherever she goes.
On Christmas Eve, psychic Kendra Adams reveals the secret she’s hidden for decades—she was once Rosina, a mermaid torn between sea and shore. Betrayed in her ocean kingdom and desperate to escape banishment, she persuades a politician to smuggle her into the human world. But freedom on land comes at a cost, as she soon finds herself ensnared in another web, this one spun by the politician’s power-hungry sister.
Excerpt
The human laughter startled me. It sounded so foreign, unlike anything I had ever heard before. I followed the sounds and turned my gaze toward four large humans approaching us. Up close, they were frightening, almost menacing, in their dark garments. I took note of their varying appearances. Two had light brown hair and blue eyes, while the other pair sported dark hair and dark eyes. Intent on observing the darker pair, I didn’t notice the other two men eyeing me.
“Hippie mermaid!” yelled one of the men with light-colored features.
All the men glanced in my direction. I felt myself reddening as I met their liquid eyes and wide smiles. There was interest there, and some other emotion or feeling I had never seen before. For a split second, I was flattered by their attention. And then I recalled what Mama had said. I must let Annabella choose first.
Annabella did not give me a chance to react. She beckoned to the man who had spoken, and he reluctantly turned away from me. Rosetta claimed the other light-haired man, and Lisetta chose one of the dark-haired men. I watched as they moved to separate rocks along the shore.
The remaining man approached. As his features came into closer focus, I realized he was older than the others. Not by much, but there were white hairs sprinkled in the darkness, and his face crinkled as he smiled. “I guess I won this mermaid lottery.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
He laughed and shook his head. “You could have had any of us. You didn’t have to end up with me.”
“But I’m not a Bella or an Etta. I’m an Ina.” There was no point hiding my rank. I had never been embarrassed by it, and after hearing about Aunt Lina’s punishment, I knew my place.
“Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the prettiest of the group. You just don’t know it yet.”
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On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.
On Fridays, I receive Hope Clark’s newsletter, Funds for Writers. Here’s a thought-provoking essay from a recent email:
In the gym today, my trainer advised that if you want to improve and build muscle (i.e., get strong), you push the last three reps/times such that you think you’ll fail at any moment. In other words, you push to failure. You push, seeking that point when you just can’t.
He said he’s had clients get frustrated when he tells them they left effort out there unused, and then walk out. But they usually walk back in the next day after they’ve had a look-in-the-mirror moment.
Once they learn to lift like that, and once they learn to come back day after day and not just when they can work it in, they are lifting with passion.
Only then is when you see success.
Your brain will try to tell you to take the path of least resistance in most anything. It will tell you to stop before it gets too hard. But you do not improve unless you push past that.
In writing, you write/publish/submit to the point of failure. Writers who opine about the pain of rejection, in my opinion, don’t write with passion. They write for fun. They write to feel good. They do not write with passion.
Passion is doing something beyond the level of “can’t.” Beyond the level of shaking muscles. Beyond the fear of rejection. Beyond the trepidation of having to do something you aren’t sure will work. Beyond the concern of being embarrassed.
Those who excel, who succeed, who achieve something different than the masses, are doing so with passion. Passionate writers write through all the noise, voices, criticism, demands, and obstacles in their path. They write until it hurts.
Writer-director Derek Cianfrance delivers a crowd-pleasing film based on a stranger-than-fiction tale about a career criminal in North Carolina.
Roofman tells the true story of Jeffrey Manchester (brilliantly portrayed by Channing Tatum), a U.S. Army veteran struggling to provide for his family. After disappointing his daughter at her birthday party and receiving little support from his ex-wife (Melonie Diaz) and best friend (LaKeith Stanfield), Jeffrey resorts to robbing McDonald’s restaurants to fix his financial troubles.
With a sharp eye for detail and strategy, Jeffrey notices that all McDonald’s restaurants share a common vulnerability in their roofs. He cuts through it, drops in, waits for the manager to show up in the morning, and politely requests the safe’s contents. He repeats this 45 times over the course of two years before being caught.
Sentenced to 45 years, Jeffrey seems to adapt to prison but eventually plots his escape. While on the run, he hides in a Toys ‘R Us store with lax security, quickly finding blind spots and disabling cameras. After hours, he explores the store and snacks on peanut M&M’s. Bored and curious about the staff, he installs baby monitors and cameras to spy on them. He observes the bullying tactics of the store manager (Peter Dinklage) and the calm, helpful presence of single mom Leigh Wainscott (Kirsten Dunst).
A chance encounter with Leigh allows Jeffrey to insinuate himself into her life. Smitten, Leigh welcomes him into her home and social circle. Their bond grows as Jeffrey takes an interest in her children’s happiness. Despite his sincere intentions, Jeffrey remains a con man, plagued by guilt but never revealing the truth about his criminal past.
During the six months that Jeffrey lives in the toy store, he attends church, dates Leigh, buys a car and extravagant gifts, gets dental work done, and pawns console games for cash while his face is plastered across the evening news. This may sound improbable, but Cianfrance meticulously researched and verified each detail, conducting over a hundred interviews with Jeffrey Manchester at Central Prison in Raleigh.
Caught up in the romantic storyline, I was hoping—against all odds—that Leah and Jeffrey would somehow make it work, that their love would transcend his crimes. But as the story unfolded, each of Jeffrey’s self-destructive choices felt like another stone laid on the path to his undoing. The final betrayal only sealed what had been inevitable all along.
Highly recommended!
I’m happy to welcome multi-published author Chris Redding. Today, Chris shares her new release, Dogged Determination.
Blurb
A vegetarian veterinarian needs cash for a no-kill shelter, which is her life’s passion. But her efforts to fundraise have been stymied, because she doesn’t know anyone rich.
The heir to a hot dog fortune must give away money before he gains his inheritance. Having been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, he doesn’t know anyone needy enough.
Sounds like a match made in Heaven, but when a stray mutt brings them together, will they recognize what the other can provide?
Exclusive Excerpt
Despite not showing the dog much affection, the man did care about Spike. Maybe Paul wasn’t a demonstrative person. Who was Daria to judge? At least he’d brought the animal in to be seen. They stood in her green-painted exam room. As she studied the walls, she wondered if she could have chosen a better color.
Shaking herself, she went back to her perusal of Spike’s owner. Daria didn’t trust anyone who didn’t like animals. Samuel, at least, had a cat. He just never appreciated her animals, taking her away. “I have to send the results out to a lab. I can pull some strings to get the test done first thing.”
He frowned. “There isn’t someplace to do the test tonight?”
She had to admire his concern for the dog. An attractive guy who loved animals couldn’t be all bad. He probably wasn’t rich either. That was a plus in her book. “No, no one’s open.” She dropped the test tube into a mailer. She missed.
The man caught the vial before the glass tube could shatter on the floor.
She took it and then placed the tube into the mailer. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s get some dinner.”
The rumble from her stomach could have awakened the dead. “I don’t think so.”
He cocked his head. “You’re hungry. I’m hungry. I made you miss your dinner.”
Her mouth dropped open. Even though the event had been on her mind all week, she hadn’t remembered the benefit. Something about this man made her mind go blank. What was distracting about him? Was she distracted by the way he gave her his whole attention? She’d missed a great opportunity to network with rich people. “Trust me, we will bill you.”
Author Bio and Links
Chris Redding has been writing romance and suspense for more than two decades. She’d written more than 60 novels and novellas over her career as a ghostwriter.
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Giveaway
Chris Redding will be awarding a $15 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Find out more here.
Follow Chris on the rest of her Goddess Fish tour here.
Joanne Guidoccio 