Saturday, September 28, 2013

Excerpt from The French Gambit by Maureen O. Betita

Here we are me matey's, with the excerpt from Maureen O. Betita's, The French Gambit


Blurb for the series

Riding the currents of time is a challenge Miranda is up for. No matter where or when she lands, she hits the ground ready, looking for whatever challenge the universe presents. But the Caribbean of Jake Reynard proves more tempting than she counted on.

Not to mention totally unfamiliar. Port Royal thrives, and is certainly not the wicked city her world’s history painted it. But it does prove exciting. Handsome pirates, magical devices, new enemies and old!

And she may be a witch who restores her magical energy through sex, a role the pirate Reynard is delighted to fulfill, but she didn’t count on the sex to deepen into real caring, or love, heaven help her.

Nor did he.

 
EXCERPT:

 
A bit of story history: Deeply embedded in the plot to lure the French spy into revealing his hand, Jake and Miranda play the role of pirates bent upon revenge. The governor of Port Royal has escaped their clutches and freed himself of their blackmail. And they aren’t happy!

 

As they approached the Jester that night, Miranda worked to remember her mania of the night before. She darkened her visage, and concentrated on distrust. Jake mirrored her. They would play this angry.

Bernard was waiting for them, along with the two men Mercy had described. Miranda took an instant dislike to the muscle-man. He leered at her and followed her movements with his eyes. Jake picked up on it and glared at the man.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, or you’ll taste my steel,” Jake said when formally introduced.

Michael stared back, but nodded, a promise to see him pay for that threat, eventually, in his eyes. Henry stepped in. “Don’t mind Michael. He has no manners. But he’s handy to have around. Please, sit down and join us.”

Miranda placed herself where she could see Michael, took out her dagger and set it near her hand. Jake kept himself from echoing her movement and instead, smiled grimly at Bernard. “We leave in the morning? We are eager to be about our vengeance, eh, Miranda?”

“Most assuredly, Captain. Leighton will pay for his fickleness, and his tight purse. I was thinking of taking a souvenir from that grandchild he is so fond of…a finger maybe.” She laughed wildly. “He’d pay then, and plenty.”

“Oh, how bloodthirsty. I like it.” Jake grinned. “You could get to the smithy while I get Leighton himself?”

“Of course.” She picked up her dagger and studied the edge, testing it with her finger. A drop of blood flowed down her palm; she watched its path.

Henry shuddered and Bernard looked disgusted. Michael just watched her. She flicked the blood at him, where it made a line across his face. He flinched and she laughed. He lunged, and she danced away. Jake placed himself between them, his sword point at Michael’s throat.

“Enough!” Bernard shouted. “Enough. We need to work together. Focus on the objective. Please. Sit down.” He called out to the barkeep, “More rum.” Jake and Michael cautiously sat down. Miranda moved to stand behind Jake.

“No drink for me. Enough last night.” She’d sheathed Úvanwa and examined her wounded finger. She stuck it in her mouth and licked the remaining blood from her palm. Jake passed her his handkerchief. She blotted at it ’til it stopped bleeding, and then leaned against Jake’s chair, watching the rest of the room, as if bored by the conversation. She smiled to herself. Such a dangerous woman I am.

Jake felt his mood lighten, and was able to finish the negotiations. Henry would be furnishing enough funds to restock the Moonstone for the short voyage. Bernard would lead the way into the entrance; Michael would come to represent Henry. They’d created a backstory that Henry was interested in seeing the fort damaged so he could provide repairs and make a hefty profit. Jake pretended to believe them. Eventually, matters were concluded to everyone’s satisfaction.

Jake rose. “If you want to reach Port Royal by midnight tomorrow, be at the Moonstone just past dawn.” He looked at Henry. “And keep your ape on a leash while on my ship, or he’ll be thrown overboard. I don’t tolerate rash action on the Moonstone.” Jake looked at Michael. “Making moves on my woman would be imprudent, Michael, understand?”

Michael snarled at Jake, who just stood, waiting for a reply.

“Understand, Michael?”

Finally, at Henry’s prodding, Michael nodded his understanding.

Jake put his arm around Miranda and pulled her tightly to his side. “Come. Our bed awaits.”

Miranda began to hum the song Angelique had taught her the night before, and Jake laughed as they strolled from the bar.

The three conspirators watched them leave. “I get to kill him, agreed?” Michael spoke. “But first I’ll take the strumpet and break her…” His eyes were cold. Henry felt a chill pass through him, but it was a hot thrill. He would watch.

Bernard replied, “Whatever you want, but not until we’re done with getting the treasure. And the Rapide will not wait for you, so be quick about it when the time comes.”

They finished their drinks and left the bar. From the shadows, Jake and Miranda followed them to their quarters. There would be a delay in the morning, while Mr. Bailey and a few sailors searched for anything interesting left behind.

As they made their way back to the Moonstone, Jake questioned Miranda’s baiting of Michael. “Was that wise? He will not forget.”

“You saw the way he looked at me. Let him try something, Jake. He’ll be dead before he knows what hit him. He’s unimportant to Bernard. I watched the Frenchman. He’d just as soon I killed him.” She sighed. “I didn’t know I could be so reckless. But he baited me as much as I did him.”

“A very dangerous man, Miranda. And yes, very obvious in his designs. Take extra care when they come aboard. The conclusion will come quickly, as I have no intention of taking them anywhere near Port Royal. They’ll figure it out fast enough.”

“And it will be over.” She began to hum Angelique’s song again, very softly. Jake lengthened his stride to get them back faster. She laughed and they began to run, eager for each other, and for their bed.


Author Bio

Maureen O. Betita writes about pirates. Okay, she also writes about alien love stories and the rare contemporary romance, but mainly…pirates. She has recently given into the lure of revealing to the world how deeply this passion lies. Deep, very deep. The first  three books of the series, A Caribbean Spell,  Red Sean’s Revenge and The French Gambit are available on Amazon..

How deep is this passion? Three million words deep. Four books in 2013 and starting in 2014, a new book every six weeks.

Maureen has been married over thirty years to her high school sweetheart, who loves to play pirate with her at pirate festivals around California, where they make a home with a dog and a cat. And a huge collection of pirate paraphernalia.

 
Find Maureen at:
Website and Blog www.maureenobetita.com


 
Buy Maureen's Books at:
 

 
Here are the covers of a couple:
 
 
 
 




 
 

Friday, September 27, 2013

Last Friday of the Month Recipe Cheddar Green Onion Biscuits ~ From Kaye George! Plus Read An Excerpt from CHOKE

Hi Loyal Readers,
I promise this recipe will not make you CHOKE (the name of Kaye George's book, excerpt below)

They sound yummy and I'm making some this weekend. 


Cheddar Green Onion Biscuits
adapted by Kaye George from a recipe on My Sister's Kitchen (http://mysisterskitchen.wordpress.com/2006/07/06/cheddargreen-onion-biscuits/)
2 1/4 c. Bisquick

6 T. butter, chopped coarsely

1 1/2 t. minced garlic

6 oz. grated sharp cheddar cheese

3 green onions (or scallions) chopped finely

1 c. buttermilk
 

Cut butter into Bisquick until the texture of coarse crumbs. Stir in cheese, onions, and garlic. Add buttermilk and stir just enough to mix. Do not overmix.

Drop onto greased cookie sheet or pizza stone by heaping teaspoonsful.

Bake at 400 degrees for 15-18 minutes or until golden brown.

Makes nearly 4 dozen.
 

Optional: Add 4 oz. coarsely chopped green chili or jalapeno peppers.

 
 
  Blurb for the first Imogene Duckworthy mystery, CHOKE:

Twenty-two-year-old Imogene Duckworthy is waiting tables at Huey's Hash in tiny Saltlick, TX, itching to jump out of her rut and become a detective. When Uncle Huey is found murdered in the diner, a half-frozen package of mesquite-smoked sausage stuffed down his throat, Immy gets her chance.

Immy's mother, Hortense is hauled in for the crime. Unclear of the exact duties of a PI, Immy starts a fire in the bathroom wastebasket to bust Mother out of jail. On the run from the law with her mother and her toddler daughter, Nancy Drew Duckworthy, Immy wonders, now what?




Excerpt:

"That's it, Uncle Huey!" Imogene Duckworthy whipped off her apron and flung it onto the slick, stainless steel counter. "I quit!" If only her voice didn’t sound so young. Her order pad, pencil, even the straws skittered out of their pouches and across the floor. She took a step back, her shoes sticking to the trod-upon-after-lunch debris of squished lettuce, blobs of gravy, and bits of unidentifiable brown stuff. 

"You can't quit, darlin'," drawled Uncle Huey in that thin, nasal voice that made him seem six inches shorter than his five-ten. "You're family." He dipped a scoop of mashed potatoes onto a plate, ladled thick brown gravy on top, and handed it to the cook. 

"I'm not working double shifts again next week." Immy hoped she sounded serious. Mature. Convincing. 

"Well, you'll just have to, won't you? Since Xenia just quit on me today, you and April are all the waitresses I've got left." 

Clem, the portly cook, piled the hot plate with thick slabs of meatloaf, spooned green beans beside them, and shoved it into April's waiting hands. Immy hadn't eaten lunch yet, and the oniony smell of the meatloaf kicked up some saliva under her tongue. She watched April swing through the double doors and glimpsed the whitewashed dining room full of scarred wooden tables and chairs, almost empty of customers now. 

She’d worked and played in this restaurant her entire twenty-two years. It had been started by her grandparents and handed down to her father and her uncle. Since her father’s death, of course, Uncle Huey had run it alone. 

Would she miss this place? Maybe, but she was quitting anyway. 

Immy pounded her fist on the work counter. Hugh Duckworthy jumped. "No, Uncle Huey. April is all you've got left, and if you'd kept your mitts to yourself, you'd still have Xenia." Immy's hands shook as she snatched her purse and jacket from her cubby, but she succeeded in stomping out the back door of the diner, past the cook and busboy who were staring open-mouthed. Aside from troublesome customers, she didn't talk back to people often, even when she wanted to. 

Uncle Huey may have been her father's brother, but he was a first class jerk. 

In the alley she paused beside the dumpster. Leaned against the sun-warmed metal. Gulped a big breath of relief. And choked on the stench of rotting vegetables. She  moved a little farther from the dumpster for her next breath and collapsed against the brick wall, trembling in the aftermath of her bravery. 

Immy closed her eyes and let the Texas sun soak into her upturned face, willing it to calm her. She turned her mind to the future. A purchase was waiting for her in Wymee Falls, but she had no transportation to pick it up. What should she do now? She tried to focus. 

"What in the hell got into you, Immy?" 

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the deep voice. Baxter, one of Huey's two busboys, emptied a bin of food scraps into the dumpster, plunked it onto the alley paving, and strolled over to stand a couple of feet from her. Her pulse raced at the closeness of his lean, hard body. Damn, that man was handsome. 

Immy had had a crush on Baxter Killroy since he started to work in the diner two and a half years ago, even though he was at least ten years older than Immy, mid-thirties. 

"I never heard you talk back to the boss like that before." 

That lazy smile drew her closer. She pushed off the brick wall and took a step toward him. Her mind always messed up in front of a handsome man. "Well, I guess I never did before." 

"Gotta admire that in a woman. That's spunk, Immy."
 
 
 

Links to buy CHOKE:

Ebooks:
E-book at Untreed Reads
Amazon

Paperback:
Amazon

Newsflash: Kaye hopes to have an audio version of this book in October. 


Bio:

Kaye George is a short story writer and novelist who has been nominated for Agatha awards twice. She is the author of four mystery series: the Imogene Duckworthy humorous Texas series, the Cressa Carraway musical mystery series, the FAT CAT cozy series, and
The People of the Wind Neanderthal series. EINE KLEINE MURDER, the first Cressa Carraway novel debuted in April from Barking Rain Press and was a finalist for the Silver Falchion Award. DEATH IN THE TIME OF ICE, the first Neanderthal book, in June by Untreed Reads.  The first FAT CAT book, from Berkley Prime Crime, will appear in 2014.

 
Her short stories can be found in her collection, A PATCHWORK OF STORIES, as well as in several anthologies, various online and print magazines. She reviews for "Suspense Magazine", writes for several newsletters and blogs, and gives workshops on short story writing and promotion. Kaye is agented by Kim Lionetti at BookEnds Literary and lives in Knoxville, TN.

Find her at:
 
Homepage: http://kayegeorge.com/ 
Blogs: http://travelswithkaye.blogspot.com/
and
http://makeminemystery.blogspot.com/





 



Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Meet Maureen O. Betita, Indie Author and Lover and Writer of Pirates...AARRGGH.

Today we have the fortune (which we must protect, as Maureen is a pirate) of meeting Maureen O. Betita.
 
I hope you find her Indie story inspiring, and don't forget her excerpt from
The French Gambit this coming Saturday.

 
Please welcome Maureen.

Setting Sail on a New Adventure! With Pirates!

Hey Leslie Ann, Thanks for having me as your guest this week.

Hi all! I’m Maureen O. Betita, and I write about pirates. That’s just who I am…the pirate, romance, time travel, adventure author.

I’ve been published a few years, by a small indy publisher. And once upon a time, I had an agent. (I really adored her, just unable to find a home for what I write. It’s okay, we’re still friends.)

After looking around and sending out queries and pitching at conventions…getting requests but then polite and sometimes very nice refusals to represent…I decided it was time to chart my own course, with me at the wheel.

You see, I had something not every author has…I had a hell of a lot of books on my computer. Good stories, some even brilliant…upwards of…oh…5 million words worth of stories. Over 3 million in one series. Yeah, they needed polishing and editing, and editing, and editing and then some more polish…but the basic hull, masts and all were there. So, I set myself the task of getting this ship into shape.

I hired a cover artist, two copy editors and worked my butt off learning how to self-publish. I took a few online classes, bought a few books…took some panels at conventions. Honestly? None of those made me feel confident enough move forward. The terms were…were totally alien to me. And though I’m not a total neophyte when it comes to technical stuff…it was all gobbledygook.

Finally, I found a few experienced mentors and they did it. They held my hand and told me where to go and how to do it. Then I hired someone to format for me. (Because I do not trust myself to do it right. Not the first time, second time or third time. Maybe the tenth time. And I didn’t have that much time to spare!)

I’ve been at sea now since March of 2013, when the first title was launched. A Caribbean Spell… I begged a few friends with connections to review it. I sent it to InD’Tales Magazine and got a review. And…it sorta bobbed up and down. Sometimes more a submarine than anything else.

I persevered. Released the second book, Red Sean’s Revenge, book two of the series, in June, 2013. Wow, just about nothing. Heavy book, near floundered.




I knew from conversations with many, many people, that the trick was to keep putting them out there. Keep building the series. So, I released the third book, The French Gambit…marvelous cover!...book three in the series, in September. And the second day on amazon it was as low as 25 on Hot New Reads Time Travel Romance. Whoohoo! (Okay, I made it Kindle Select and the price is 99 cents. A sacrifice to get things moving.)

What have I done to promote myself? Lots of begging on FB. Advertisements in the program of the Romance Novel Convention. An ad in the print edition of InD’Tales and an ad in the electric version. Give away of print books on Goodreads, Free Book Friday and The Romance Studio…

Have any of these worked? I honestly don’t know. From my current perspective, lowering the price for the third book and going Kindle Select may fill my sails with wind. I hope. After numerous conversations with a best-selling indy/trad/small press author at a convention – Jennifer Ashley, thank you for the time to offer advice – starting in 2014, I will be releasing a new book in the series every 6 weeks. Which will see the entire series out by the end of 2016. Yes, 30 books.

I’m also going to start each new book on Kindle Select. I’m learning a great deal as I move forward and the best advice I can give? Don’t give up. Stockpile a series until you can really push multiples out, quickly.

Check with me in a year, and I’ll let you know how it went!


Short blurb for the series
Riding the currents of time is a challenge Miranda is up for. No matter where or when she lands, she hits the ground ready, looking for whatever challenge the universe presents. But the Caribbean of Jake Reynard proves more tempting than she counted on.

Not to mention totally unfamiliar. Port Royal thrives, and is certainly not the wicked city her world’s history painted it. But it does prove exciting. Handsome pirates, magical devices, new enemies and old!

And she may be a witch who restores her magical energy through sex, a role the pirate Reynard is delighted to fulfill, but she didn’t count on the sex to deepen into real caring, or love, heaven help her.

Nor did he.
 

 Author Bio

Maureen O. Betita writes about pirates. Okay, she also writes about alien love stories and the rare contemporary romance, but mainly…pirates. She has recently given into the lure of revealing to the world how deeply this passion lies. Deep, very deep. The first  three books of the series, A Caribbean Spell,  Red Sean’s Revenge and The French Gambit are available on Amazon.

How deep is this passion? Three million words deep. Four books in 2013 and starting in 2014, a new book every six weeks.

Maureen has been married over thirty years to her high school sweetheart, who loves to play pirate with her at pirate festivals around California, where they make a home with a dog and a cat. And a huge collection of pirate paraphernalia.

Social Links: 

Website and Blog www.maureenobetita.com

 
Buy Link:


 
So me hearties (forgive me, Maureen) Stay tuned Saturday for an excerpt from The French Gambit
 

 

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Excerpt from W.S Gager's A Case Of Volatile Deeds


Wednesday, you met W.S Gager, and today I bring you the excerpt from her latest book,
A Case of Volatile Deeds.

Read on ...


 
 
Blurb:
 
Mitch Malone finally scores a weekend dinner with a cute receptionist, but true to his reporter instincts, an explosion in a high rise office building makes him stand up his date as he runs for an exclusive. Mitch learns that much of what he knows about his date and her work aren’t what they seem. His world continues to twist when the police captain asks for his help and a city hall informant is found floating in the river. Mitch must keep his head down or a cute dog with a knack for finding dead bodies will be sniffing out his corpse.



 
 
 


Excerpt:
 
Perfect, then a name near the top took me back. The All Star Realty made me gulp. Tasha Hardy, my date tonight, was an assistant or agent-in-training or something at the real estate firm on the eighth floor. I only gave it a passing thought and never considered calling to let her know I wouldn’t make dinner. I was on a story and she better get used to it. The story was first, especially a big one like this.

I followed the hose to the stairs and started climbing, my heavy breaths taking in the chalky dust even through the filter of my shirt that didn’t want to stay in its protective position. I looked like a half headless man and sounded worse with my ragged inhalations.

I felt my legs pulse with the strain of climbing after my run to the explosion site. I promised to get in shape but knew my twenty-four-hour quest for the news wouldn’t allow it. The adrenaline of a big story pushed me forward.

What had happened? Had the terrorist group I’d helped bust a couple of years ago returned? Did some drug dealer have a meth lab in a high rise? Possible scenarios flew through my mind. Each a bigger story than the last and I wondered if this building would drop like the World Trade Center towers. That thought only made me slow my steps for a couple of treads, but I was a reporter and must get the news, regardless of the consequences.

Voices drifted down in the haze that grew thicker with each flight. The stairs were dust covered but no smoke or damage that I could see. I slowed my pace as the minute particles made the steps slippery. Injuries from a slip didn’t happen to Mitch Malone.

“Can’t say what the explosion did to the structure. It will take weeks to make a visual inspection of all the supports. Longer to test the integrity. Can’t say how long that will take.”

I stopped to listen, realizing it was political rhetoric, but pulled out my notebook to jot some notes.

“What do you recommend?” Another voice said.

“Condemn the building.” The voice sounded like Darth Vader. I heard clinking and rattling, then the voice sounded normal. “Start inspections in the basement and test the integrity. Let them return as we check off the floors.”

“I’m not sure that is going to fly, especially with the pressure the mayor’s office will get.” This voice smooth and soft and carrying authority in every syllable. I needed names to go with the voices but my vision was blocked by the stairs.

I was only a floor away. A brown arm gripped the railing, a wingtip shoe rested on the landing. I forced my breathing to slow, not so much because I was tired but I didn’t want to alert anyone to my presence with my ragged attempts to get oxygen into my lungs.

Interrupting would get me kicked out of the building and my exclusive would go up in smoke like something did here. These officials seemed too relaxed to be in a structure that could kill them. Had the dispatch been too eager and overblown the danger?

“What caused the explosion?” I thought this was the voice that belonged to the wingtips but I couldn’t be sure.

“Not sure. Was on the eighth floor is all we know at this point.” The authority voice. The real estate office. Who would bomb a real estate office? Someone who wasn’t happy with the price for their house? That seemed improbable.

“Casualties?” “Only a few bumps and bruises in the pandemonium to get out. Most offices were nearly empty for the weekend. Panic broke out as people thought the building might collapse like 9-11.”

“It could yet, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“In theory but I don’t feel any further movement of the building nor do I hear stress noises with the structure. If there was another explosion, then maybe. The building appears to have weathered the shock. The eighth floor could be a total loss from water damage. The sprinklers doused the flames quickly but until the smoke clears, damage estimates will be difficult. I can’t certify anyone’s safety.”

“Chief, we’ve found a body in the debris.” This voice came from higher above.
 
 
 
Bio:
 
W.S. Gager has lived in Michigan for most of her life except when she was interviewing race car drivers or professional woman's golfers. She enjoyed the fast-paced life of a newspaper reporter until deciding to settle down and realized babies didn't adapt well to running down story details on deadline. Since then she honed her skills on other forms of writing before deciding to do what she always wanted and write mystery novels.

Her main character is Mitch Malone who is an edgy crime-beat reporter single-mindedly hunting for a Pulitzer Prize. A Case of Infatuation, the first in the Mitch Malone Mysteries, won the Dark Oak Contest in 2008 and nominated as a Michigan Notable Book.  A Case of Accidental Intersection took first place in the 2010 Public Safety Writers Contest in the unpublished category before its release. Her third book, A CASE OF HOMETOWN BLUES, was a finalist in the 2012 Daphne Du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense. She loves to hear from readers at wsgager@yahoo.com or on her blog at http://wsgager.blogspot.com.

Links:

Website:  http://wsgager.com
Social links:
Twitter: @wsgager

 

 

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Meet W.S Gager ~ From Newspaper Reporter to Mystery Writer



I'm pleased to bring you W.S Gager, former reporter, now mystery writer.
Please welcome Wendy and don't forget her excerpt from A Case of Volatile Deeds on Saturday

Thanks LA, it's a pleasure to be here with your readers today.

LA: Tell us about your current series.

WSG: My current series is the Mitch Malone Mysteries which is about an old-school reporter in a modern newspaper who doesn’t adapt to change. In the latest, A CASE OF VOLATILE DEEDS, Mitch stands up his date to cover an explosion only to discover the only victim is his love interest who has many secrets. As he works to get his date’s killer and earn a Pulitzer Prize, bodies keep showing up just like the puppy that appears on his door and has a knack for sniffing them out. His journey takes him out of the comfort of the police beat to the politics of city hall.
 

LA: Having achieved your goal to be a published author, what is the most rewarding thing?

WSG: It always amazes and delights me when people send me an email or post on Facebook that they loved a book I’ve written. My favorite comment was a reader who said they had figured it out and were wrong, but the ending made perfect sense in hindsight. Then I’ve done my job!
   

LA: Which aspect of writing do you love the best, and which do you hate the most?

WGS:  My favorite part of writing is the first draft. When I have an inkling of where the story is going and details nailed for about twenty pages. As I start to put that down, the characters begin to talk to me and take the story in totally different directions than I planned but they are great. When these creative ideas flow is when I’m the most geeked about the writing and don’t want to quit. (When laundry piles up, meals go unmade and my cleanliness is nonexistent.)
 

LA: What is the accomplishment that you are most proud of?

WSG:  My first book in the Mitch Malone Mysteries called A CASE OF INFATUATION. I’ve improved my writing with each book but there is a special and magical moment when you first book winds down to the finish line and you type: “The End!” You realize after several stops and starts that you have actually finished your first book. You are an author. That is magic.
   

LA: Describe for us, if you will, your writing style, as in plotter vs. seat of the pants, and do you put more time into developing characters or plot or are they equal?

WSG:  As I mentioned above my favorite part of the writing is going off in odd directions. I am very much a seat of the pants writer. So much so that the villain I start off with in the beginning is usually killed about halfway through the book. I need to come up with an even more dastardly murderer. For me the characters are the key to the mystery. If you don’t have a good motivating factor for both the sleuth and the villain, the mystery falls flat. The characters could have a huge gun battle but it wouldn’t add anything to the book if the killer enjoyed killing with a knife. It just doesn’t fit and the readers figure that out.

 
LA: Key advice for other writers?

WSG: Just write! This advice seems so simple but in actually is very complicated. You need to keep putting words on the paper even on days you don’t feel like writing. You must keep trying. As a very dear friend says, “Keep on keeping on.”  Keep writing. You may never use what you struggle to put down at first but that will lead to some really great writing. You need to wade through a lot of flood waters until you get to a good piece of land.

 
LA: Do you have a day job, too?

WSG:  I do and I must admit it has been kicking my butt and creativity for the last couple of months. I coordinate an Early College program that allows high school juniors and seniors to become half time college students and delay their graduation by a year. After that fifth year of high school, they graduate with not only a high school diploma but also an associate’s degree. The best part is students don’t have to pay for it but their school district does. This is a new program and has had tons of work to get it up and started before school started. I love empowering motivated students to get ahead on their education. I just need to bottle their energy so I can write in the evenings.
  

LA, That sounds like an awesome program to be involved in. Do you have a view in your writing space? 

WSG: I do and it is of the third green and fourth tee of a golf course. I like playing golf but what I like even more is that the view is so green and natural and filled with wildlife including birds, foxes, deer and bunnies. There is always something interesting to see that inspires me to keep writing. The bad part is my son took my writing chair with him to college and I need to replace it.

LA: That's not so bad, a new chair is always good!

 
BIO:

W.S. Gager has lived in Michigan for most of her life except when she was interviewing race car drivers or professional woman's golfers. She enjoyed the fast-paced life of a newspaper reporter until deciding to settle down and realized babies didn't adapt well to running down story details on deadline. Since then she honed her skills on other forms of writing before deciding to do what she always wanted and write mystery novels. Her main character is Mitch Malone who is an edgy crime-beat reporter single-mindedly hunting for a Pulitzer Prize. A Case of Infatuation, the first in the Mitch Malone Mysteries, won the Dark Oak Contest in 2008 and nominated as a Michigan Notable Book.  A Case of Accidental Intersection took first place in the 2010 Public Safety Writers Contest in the unpublished category before its release. Her third book, A CASE OF HOMETOWN BLUES, was a finalist in the 2012 Daphne Du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense. She loves to hear from readers at wsgager@yahoo.com or on her blog at http://wsgager.blogspot.com.
 

 
BLURB:
 
Mitch Malone finally scores a weekend dinner with a cute receptionist, but true to his
reporter instincts, an explosion in a high rise office building makes him stand up his date as he runs for an exclusive. Mitch learns that much of what he knows about his date and her work aren’t what they seem. His world continues to twist when the police captain asks for his help and a city hall informant is found floating in the river. Mitch must keep his head down or a cute dog with a knack for finding dead bodies will be sniffing out his corpse.
 
 

LINKS:
Website:  http://wsgager.com

Buy links:
Barnes and Noble
Amazon

Social links:
Twitter: @wsgager
 
Don't forget the excerpt from A Case of Volatile Deeds on Saturday!  See you back here.

 

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