The World of Jessica L. Degarmo

Six Weeks, a little novella with a big message

2012-02-04T10:56:00.001-05:00

I wrote Six Weeks as a way to reach people and allow them a safe place to question their beliefs. What would you do if you had only six weeks to decide whether or not to abort your fetus, carry it to term and adopt it out, or keep it as your own?These are all decisions that Imogene Jones has to sort out in a brutally short timeframe, not the easiest of tasks for a nineteen-year-old college student. But Imogene is no ordinary student. Stuck caring for her arthritic, alcoholic mother, a younger half-sister and a boyfriend who has problems of his own to deal with, Imogene wonders how she will ever make such a permanent decision.Since this novella addresses topics that have recently come into focus on an international level, I have decided to step in and offer what I am able to a good cause. So, to help Planned Parenthood provide their services to those in need, I am donating a portion of the proceeds of each sale of my novella Six Weeks to the organization.I have already been criticized by a few people for using an important issue to sell books, but I assure you, my main goal is to raise money for a worthy cause. Since I cannot afford to reach into my pocket directly and pull out a wad of cash, I am choosing to do what I am able to, which is to give up part of my profits to help those in need. This is really no different than a pink ribbon campaign or any other business who donates money to a cause with every purchase. Read it, and see if you still feel the way you did before. What would you decide?

A cry for help

2012-01-08T12:47:00.003-05:00

Hello everyone!Some of you may have seen my post on the Night Publishing Facebook group or the Night Reading website, but on the off chance that you haven't seen it, I'm here with an appeal. You see, I'm trying desperately to go back to college to earn my Bachelor's degree in Business Management, but the funding just isn't there. At most, I have enough to go back to school for a year, but that won't be enough to complete my degree.Before you stop reading, no, I'm not asking you for money, and I don't need a huge commitment from anyone. All I need is two little mouse clicks:http://www.wyzant.com/scholarships/v2/essay33698-Millerton-PA.aspxThat's the first click. I wrote an essay for a scholarship contest. The winner (the person with the most votes) will get a $5,000 scholarship. That money is desperately needed!After you click the link, please read my essay and scroll to the bottom. Your second click should be "vote for this essay."That's it. You can help me realize my dream of furthering my education and getting a Bachelor's Degree with two clicks of your mouse. Will you please, please help me?Thank you for your time, and thanks in advance for your vote. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know.And if you feel like making a few more clicks and sharing this with your friends/tweeters, I'd be even more grateful. Thank you all so much!

Spirit of the Season

2011-12-16T14:14:00.000-05:00

This time of year is always rather melancholy for me. I used to have the Christmas spirit, but over time it has faded significantly. One large reason for this is the fact that Christmas has become a retail holiday. There's so much pressure put on people to "buy that perfect gift" or "get it while they last" or "shop our early-bird specials" that it's no wonder people get anxious and depressed around the holidays. We are bombarded well before Thanksgiving even rolls around with special Black Friday Ads. Christmas trees appear in supermarkets almost before the Halloween displays are torn down. Holiday music is piped through loudspeakers to remind us that the season is fast-approaching.

In all this hustle and bustle, behind all the tinsel and glitter, there's a message here, and it's a negative one, in my opinion. We are being trained to buy the love of our family in the form of holiday gifts we'll willingly go broke over. I'm realizing that I've fallen prey to Black Friday sales and special holiday pricing. And I'm realizing how wrong that is.

There is also a focus on rushing around to get everything accomplished. Heck, stores are even open on Christmas Eve for those of us too busy or broke to buy presents beforehand. Rush here, race there, have a quick meal then head out the door onto the next event before you've even had a chance to let your stomach (not to mention your brain) settle. There aren't enough hours in the day to fulfill all of the "holiday obligations" we seem to have.

I spoke with someone recently whose long-term partner had recently died. Apparently, there was a huge fight brewing over who was getting the money, property, et cetera. I bet you anything she would have given the world, or at least all of her worldly possessions, just to get her partner back. The struggle over the material things was causing almost as much stress and grief as the man's death had. It really made me stop and think.

What I'm trying to say is that there is so much more to the holidays than presents and material goods. There's love and friendship, family and friends, laughter and cameraderie, hope for the new year and a fond farewell to what has passed. All of those things are priceless, worth so much more than a few baubles or trinkets or a hasty obligatory visit.

Instead of giving material gifts, focus on what really matters: Time. Take the time to call a relative or friend you haven't talked to in a while. And really listen to what they have to say. Donate your time to help those less fortunate than yourself. Give someone a hug if they need it, a shoulder to cry on. Give of yourself, not of your wallet.

And instead of just doing these things around the holidays, do them throughout the upcoming year. Give of yourself. The gift of time is a valuable one, and it doesn't cost a dime.

Just stuff

2011-10-14T10:44:00.000-04:00

Hi everyone!
It's been a while since I've posted, and I wish I could say that my time has been spent on productive writing and promoting, but alas, I cannot. Over the past month or so, I've decided to give myself a break.

I think I've been pushing too hard for a while now, and it's starting to take its toll on me. My two works-in-progress are sitting and collecting dust, and while I have ideas that are rolling around in my head, the execution is beyond me right at the moment. I don't want to force it, although maybe I should, just to get back into the swing of things, but I'm afraid if I do, it'll come off as lackluster writing. And really, why not take a break? I've written 5 books in a year and seven months, and it's time to relax a bit and nurture those titles a little. Let's build some anticipation between releases, shall we?

So, I'm taking some time for myself. I've started yoga, and with the exception of today, have felt wonderful. I've also taken to hopping on the eliptical for a mile or so every other day to supplement my yoga routines. I'm on the path to being healthy, and I couldn't be happier.

I've also made the decision to return to school in the spring to get my Bachelor's degree. Education is very important, and I want to be a good role model for my kids. I want to show them that with perseverence and hard work, anything is possible.

We just returned from vacation in the Outer Banks about a week and a half ago. It was fabulous! We had a lovely time and I feel very much rested and rejuvinated since our return. It was wonderful to park my butt on the beach and feel the sand beneath my feet. We didn't really do anything special, but we spent a lot of time playing and that's really all that matters. I barely even logged on to Facebook!

We are also in the midst of a renovation project at home. What started out as a new floor and a new coat of paint has turned into a monster overhaul, but it'll be worth it in the end. I just wish the end was in sight! Mudding and taping and sanding are not my friends, just so you know...

As far as Six Weeks goes, it has been temporarily pulled from sale and will be re-released by Night Publishing in the very near future. I'll let you know more once I know. Deal?

I'd like to thank my readers for their undying and unwavering support of me and my books. The latest, The Storm Within, is dedicated to you, and I hope you enjoy it. It's the first in a series, and once I've gotten back into the swing of things, I'll be finishing up the second in the series. Stay tuned for more on that!

So, I guess that's it. It's been very quiet here and I'm enjoying the peace. I've unplugged a bit and I must admit I'm enjoying stepping back from the hustle and bustle of the online world.

Hugs to all of you. You are a bright spot in my day, and I thank you all for being you.

Jess

Sessha Batto and Shinobi

2011-09-19T07:17:00.001-04:00

I am privileged today to have a very special guest on my blog. Her name is Sessha Batto, and she's the author of the amazing book Shinobi.

Shinobi takes place in modern day Japan, where clans of ninjas are at war with each other. Yoshi, the main character, is a shadow wolf, and a very special ninja. He is also used as a sex slave/whipping boy to fund the drug/other habits of the malevoent Rin.Yoshi is an amazing character, used to years of abuse, a powerful and hard enough ninja to withstand countless torments, a tormented character himself who doesn't realize his own worth.I'm not going to give the plot away, but suffice it to say that Yoshi, even though he's been sorely used under Rin's rule, performs selfless acts and shows that loyalty, sacrifice and love can indeed save a group of people, and eventually, himself as well.Let's hear from Sessha now...

JLD: I know that you like swords, weapons, and all things Japanese. Was that how you got the idea for Shinobi?

SB: Well, most of my writing is set in Japan – it's a culture and set of traditions I never tire of writing about – but Shinobi started more as an exploration of how someone could or would learn to cope and to survive long term sexual abuse. The ninja culture provides a fantastic framework for that exploration – fiercely loyal to no one but their clans, they are a perfect conundrum – loyal and dedicated assassins and spies. It allowed me to explore not only the characters themselves, but how I define good and bad.

JLD: Yoshi is a wonderful character, filled with a selflessness that most people don't possess. Is he modeled after anyone you know?

SB: Yoshi has bits and pieces of several people I know, as well as some of myself. He's the man I'd fall head over heels for . . . if he was real and not gay, of course.

JLD: How did you come up with his character?

SB: I started with the premise that he was strong enough to not only survive the abuse he'd been through, but also smart and private enough to want to keep it hidden from everyone he interacts with. So he became a construct, a face he'd show to the world with bubbling emotions locked away deep inside. I also needed to make him intriguingly different enough to explain the attraction so many people have to him, pretty wasn't enough, he needed to be exotic. Finally, he needed to be oblivious to a certain degree, not understanding or, at least, refusing to see why other men are so attracted to him.

JLD: One of the themes of the book really seems to be undying loyalty and altruism, even in the face of abuse and torment. Do you think that those characteristics even exist today?

SB: I think the possibility exists within all of us – we can be loyal to people, religious beliefs, values, and there are always those who refuse to buckle despite torture, even to the death. You can survive anything if you take it minute by minute. If that is too much second by second or even breath by breath – narrow your focus and the future becomes inconsequential, there is only this moment and anyone can live through a moment.

JLD: What is your fascination with ninjas and the ninja culture? Where did that come from?

SB: When swords ruled Japan, samurai were the noble warriors . . . and ninja were the bad boys. The shinobi didn't play by the rules, hiding in ambush, using subterfuge, masters of spying and assassination. But I don't see good and bad, right and wrong as being quite so cut and dried. Bad they may have been by the samurai standards, but they were fiercely loyal to their clans. Mercenaries, but not totally without honor. A wonderful contradiction, which makes for rich storytelling possibilities. Besides, everyone knows bad boys are the hottest.

JLD: Makoto is a wonderfully rugged character with strong protective instincts even while performing duties that are the antithesis of protection. Is he based on anyone you know? Why did you craft him that way, so internally conflicted?

SB: I don't see Makoto as conflicted – like Yoshi he's intensely loyal. He's protecting his clan the best way he can, by eliminating any and all threats in hopes of sparing others the treatment he dishes out. That strong protective instinct is why Yoshi can open up to him in a way he couldn't with anyone else. They both have a large dose of self-hatred, Yoshi for Willingness to look past that on both their parts is what pulls them ever closer.

JLD: Let's talk about you. When did you start writing? How long did it take you to finish Shinobi? It is your first published work? What else do you have out and forthcoming?SB: I started writing when I was four – I still have my first book 'Obediah the Panda Goes to the City'. I didn't start to share my writing until 2008 when I first heard about NaNoWriMo. Since then I haven't looked back!The first draft of Shinobi came out in one huge burst of half a million words over the course of three months. It took another year of rewriting and shaping to turn that into the first to and a half books of the series.My first published book was 'Strength of Will' which came out in the fall of 2009. The rights have since reverted to me and it's undergoing a thorough rewrite for re-release later this year. Other than that I have a few pieces in anthologies – Wintersong in Dancing in the Dark, Amadan na Briona in eightcuts Once Upon a Time in a Gallery exhibit and The Poetry Game in the soon to be released New Sun Rising: Stories for Japan.As far as what's coming up, the second volume of Shinobi – Struggle for Balance will be out in November and a prequel novella Geisha will hopefully also be out by the end of the year. The next major piece I'm working on is Onna Bugeisha, a twisted love triangle set in 13th century Japan.

JLD: What do you want your readers to take away from Shinobi? To me, it's a beautiful tale of self-sacrifice and finding peace amid horror. It's about acceptance and love, despite past deeds and agonies. Is that pretty accurate?SB: It's about trust, who and how we trust and why. The message is that love is a risk worth taking.

JLD: Thanks so much for being here today, Sessha. It's been a pleasure, and I hope others take the time to read your book. It's phenomenal and so worth reading.

Karl Kronlage, St. Peter Killed God

2011-08-28T07:52:00.000-04:00

I'm truly lucky to have the wonderful Karl Kronlage on my blog today. You might know him as the winner of Slushpile Reader's first publishing contract. Congratulations, Karl! And not only is he a talented author, he's a heck of a nice guy, and I'm excited to give you guys a glimpse into his world...

JLD: Welcome, Karl!

KK: Thanks for having me!

JLD: So Karl, What inspired you to write your book?

KK: The first short story I wrote in 1989 won an award. It was about a little kid who cried all the time. A couple of people told me how they really liked it but I thought I could do better. So I started writing about a pathetic child who got picked on by his brother and sister, his friends, and teacher and cried all the time only this time I felt it was much better than that story I wrote in college. Then I started thinking, hmmm, how what would this kid be like as an adult? I started molding Father Peter after I had written all this background and eventually I used the scenes I was writing as part of the sermons he preached. But it really all began by trying to write a novel about a child. That and poems about what it was like working in a psychiatric hospital. I sort of fused the two stories together and added a third element.

JLD: How long did it take you to write it?

KK: Well as you can imagine, having two stories and trying to create a third and making them all related was sort of like having a gig saw puzzle. Some elements didn’t fit and had to be thrown out. Others created. Poetry turned into prose. That was 2000-2001 and I went part-time to complete it and I liked the way things turned out only no one else did. I tried to query agents and got no bites. So I hired a writing coach who published a novel and taught creative writing for masters of fiction degrees in California. He sent a twenty page email outlining everything that was wrong with it and suggested reading about 25 books. Some were about writing. Some were fiction related to my book in some way. I guess I’m a little slow and not naturally a very good writer. I had to learn it the hard way. I’m envious of those who do it so effortlessly. Any way, it finally clicked and I went part-time again in 2007-2008 doing several drafts. Shortly
thereafter, I put it on Authonomy and made the editors desk in less than a year. Then I put it on Slush Pile Reader. I year later they agreed to publish it and we did a little editing.

Sorry for rambling. But it’s a hard question. It took ten years to finish it, but I didn’t spend ten years writing it. I’d take years off before going back to it. I guess I’m a little slower than other writers and hopefully next time I decide to write a novel it won’t take as long.

JLD: What message are you trying to convey?

KK: I believe that different readers will get something different out of it. First and for most, I want people to be entertained. If it’s not entertaining, who cares what the message is – it’s bad writing and no one would want to read it. Second, I try to undermine arguments and let the reading feel comfortable choosing to believe what they want. I mean I really try to present a need for religion, a problem with religion, and no easy fix to make religion modern. Some readers might find Father Peter simply insane. Others have told me they’d walk out of church with Father Peter. I’m not even that bold. If I attend a mass and the priest walked out of church, I’d feel embarrassed for the priest but I don’t think I’d walk out of church in protest with him. Poor Father Peter was too deluded to realize that.

JLD: What is your intended audience?

KK: Readers. Anyone and everyone. I’d like people who are religious to read it as well as those who aren’t. I love talking to atheists, Muslims, Jews, and Christians alike about their beliefs. I hope they would find the book interesting as well.

JLD: Who are you?

KK: I’m Karl Joseph Kronlage but I go by KJ Kron. No idea why. I thought that if I went by my name, friends I knew growing up might see my name and say, “Hey, Karl’s book is out.” On the other hand, most people who have read the book on Authonomy and Slush Pile Reader simply know me as KJ Kron. I was on those websites for a couple of years and more than 1,000 people read a bit of it.

JLD: Where did you grow up?

KK: In a suburb of Washington DC on the Virginia side. Catholic family. My parents had four children. Wow, I just can’t imagine having four children. I have one and we’d like one more, but four? I don’t know how people do it. I’m such a wimp; I know I can’t do what my parents did.

JLD: What do you do now?

KK: I just finished my 15th year as an English teacher. Two of those years I went part-time twice to write Saint Peter Killed God. I used to think that having the summers off would give me enough free time to write novels, but it didn’t pan out. I have tried a couple of things that have worked. My advice to writers: work overnight. There are plenty of jobs that need overnight workers. Half-way houses. Psych hospitals. Jails. Most of those places have downtimes where you can actually bring in a laptop and write. I know; I did it for four years. It’s a great idea.

JLD: Any projects forthcoming?

KK: I wish I could retire. There are so many things I’d like to do. I’m trying to learn Spanish. I’ve been spending my summers in Spain for six years now and can only handle simple conversations. I need to study about an hour day. I’d like to get back into shape. I like to read. Oh, writing. Yes, yes, I’d love to write novels but there’s only 24 hours in a day. Is there some pill I could take that would make sleeping unnecessary? With a full-time job and a fifteen month old, I just don’t seem to be organized enough to write, other than keeping up with blogs.

JLD: Where can you get a copy of Saint Peter Killed God?

KK: You can get it at Amazon or Barnes and Noble as well as Smashwords. I don’t know how other people are doing, but getting reviews and selling books is hard. Slush Pile Reader is offering gift certificates at Amazon.com that are worth $1,00. Stop by and enter the sweepstakes. We’re still hoping it catches on. Night seems to be growing with experience and I hope everyone there continues to gain recognition.

JLD: You have been a very interesting, exciting guest to have here today. Thanks so much for joining me! And best of luck with your sales!

KK: Thanks, Jess!

Meanderings

2011-08-18T22:51:00.000-04:00

I thought I'd go into some background information on Six Weeks, and what inspired me to do it. A lot of people have been wondering...

Six Weeks is really a very powerful story about a young woman who has nothing but difficult choices to make in life. Immy has to take care of her alcoholic, arthritic mother who has all but given up on herself and her children. A fifth of whiskey a day dulls her pain, but causes agony for Immy and her little sister Sadie.

When Immy discovers she's pregnant, the callous nurse-practitioner tells her that she's six weeks along, and that she only has six weeks to make a decision on what to do with the fetus.

What would you do in that circumstance? I have feelings and beliefs about abortion, adoption, and raising children, and I don't really want to foist them on anyone. But the question is there. A lot of people have very black-and-white beliefs regarding the subject of abortion, and I wondered what would happen if those beliefs were challenged.

It's sometimes difficult for someone who feels strongly about one thing or another to step back and reevaluate. But that's my goal for Six Weeks. I'd like to challenge readers to explore their own feelings on the subject and consider what they might do under such desperate circumstances. I think it's important to consider a subject from all sides before making a decision, and Six Weeks is a good tool for people to use to help them consider.

What would you do? Let's say you were in Immy's shoes. Do you abort the child and go on with your life to try to make it better? Do you keep the child and raise it, either in the same house with a worthless alcoholic and a little girl who needs too much? Do you birth the child only to give it away? Those are tough choices for anyone, much less a young woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

When I set out to write Six Weeks, I never really intended for the religious themes that are woven througthe the book to be there. But it seemed logical during my research. A lot of the "Pregnant? We can help!" places are run by churches or other religious institutions, and they offer alternatives to abortion. And really, isn't the whole pro-life/pro-choice debate theological? One of the main objections to abortion is the fact that God doesn't approve.

Really, the bottom line is that every person who may find themselves on the fence on the topic of abortion needs to consider plights from every angle. It's very hard to be logical about such an issues. Babies and pregnancy invoke strong feelings. Religion invokes strong feelings. I think, though, that it's important to consider that there is more than 1 side to every story, and unfortunately, there's not a one-size fits all solution for every young pregnant woman. I think it's important to recognize that there may not be a "right" solution; rather, there could be just one that seems less wrong than the others.

I ask that if you do run across someone in Immy's shoes, listen to her story first and judge later. Maybe the young woman won't do what you would do in the same situation, but maybe she's doing the best she can with her limited options.

And ask yourself: what would I do in her shoes?

Jess

Six Weeks

2011-08-11T21:16:00.001-04:00

Without further ado, Six Weeks is on Smashwords! Amazon to follow in a few days. Stay tuned!

I thought I'd share the first chapter of my latest. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you keep reading!

CHAPTER ONE
The nurse-practitioner’s voice seems to echo off the stark white walls of the exam room. I hear her, but as though through a tunnel.
“Yes, you’re about six weeks along now,” she says, removing her surgical gloves with a crisp snap and tossing them into the bright red hazardous-waste bin. She pushes away from the bottom of the table and stands, looking at me with sharp eyes and an impersonal expression.
I am naked from the waist down, an inadequate paper sheet draped over my lap. I shift and the paper crackles. I sit up because I know I should, even though my body is only responding woodenly. I cannot think. I cannot speak. I am numb.

Six weeks.

I would give anything to be able to remember how I felt before my diagnosis, before I
received the news that threatened to destroy the fragile equilibrium that has been my existence, but I cannot.
Her voice echoes around the room again as it bounces around in my head, unable to land anywhere to be absorbed. This feels surreal, straight out of a bad dream.
“Do you have any idea what your plans are?” she repeats, dispassion coloring her tone alackluster gray. She has done this more times than she cares to count, and I can hear it in her voice. To her, I am merely one more in a sea of faceless bodies, faceless carriers of more faceless bodies, a link in an unbroken chain of unwed, youthful, pregnant women, breeders of other failed children. I am legion, yet right now, I feel alone.
I simply stare at her, unsure of what she would have me say. How am I supposed to know what my plans are? How can I know?
I had suspected that something was wrong with me only last week. So, I called, made
myself an appointment, and here I was, partially nude, exposed in many ways, expected toanswer a question for which I had no answer.
I shake my head and she frowns a little. She has seen this reaction before from young
women too stupid or careless to protect themselves. She has seen this insipid stare and glassy-eyed shock. She tries another tactic, a sharp slap of reality that leaves my body stinging.
“Well, at this point, you have about six weeks to decide. A fetus can only be aborted within the first twelve weeks of a pregnancy. After that, it is neither advisable nor legal.”
I nod stiffly. She hands me some pamphlets about diet, my changing body, and the
development of the fetus. She presses some prenatal vitamins into my damp, clammy hand and advises me to get dressed and see the receptionist up front to schedule another appointment.
My feet move of their own accord; I have been dismissed. She disappears from the room
before I even pull on my jeans and reach the door.
Six weeks. It can be a long time. It can feel like an eternity, perhaps when one is pining for a distant loved one, stranded on a desert island or locked up in prison. It can be a long time to wait for a much-anticipated vacation or for the end of a school year. But how can anyone expect me to decide the fate of a little being so small that I can’t see it,can’t even feel it, in such a short time?
How can I even begin to wrap my head around that? How do I cope with being pregnant at nineteen, much less decide what I want to do about it? My eyes burn, my head begins to throb. My heart starts pounding in my chest, staccato bursts of movement that make me worry for a moment that I’ll have a heart attack.
I glance at the pamphlets in my hand as I trudge to the reception counter. The marigold yellow one has information on “alternatives” to abortion.
This clinic is a state-sanctioned facility that is authorized to perform abortions. The pink pamphlet says so. It spells out the procedure, the cost (free to low-income women like me), the potential risks and side-effects in cold, clinical language that does more to scare than to soothe.
I reach the receptionist and she glances up from her computer screen. The busy clacking of her fingers on the keyboard stops. She gives me a disapproving stare and says, “Do you need to be seen again?”
“Yes, I need to schedule another appointment.”
“What kind of appointment?”
“Excuse me?” I am perplexed. Does she not know I’m pregnant?
“A pre-natal appointment or an abortion?” Oh.
“I—I don’t know. Can’t I call you after I’ve had some time to think?”
“You don’t have much time, you know,” she says, unmoved by my plea. I’m but a link in
the chain, after all.
“I know. I’ll—I’ll call you later, ok? I need to catch the train.” She shrugs and goes back to
her typing. I am dismissed again.
As quickly as I can, I step out of the office into the bright sunshine of a fragrant May day. The flowers have just come into bloom. The delicious scent of lilac wafts in on the slight breeze. I inhale deeply, as a force of habit, just to sniff the sumptuous fragrance, and to steady myself. This moment is etched into my mind. I will always recall the smell in the air, the feel of the sunshine, warm on my bare arms, the sound of the passing traffic, a siren far off in the distance.
Like those who remember clearly where they were the day the Twin Towers fell, my traumatized subconscious is committing each miniscule detail to memory.
My world has changed. A few little words, carelessly spoken, have altered the course of my existence. They have irreparably changed the fabric of my life.
The walk to the subway does little to calm me. Although I am outwardly placid, my insides are jumping like hot embers in a fireplace. I place one foot in front of the next, trying to match my footsteps with my heartbeat, trying to slow both.
I wonder about the being inside me. There is some controversy about when a fetus becomes a child, when a glob of cells that have no distinct shape and form become human. What is inside me right now? Is it comfortable? Happy? Does it know what turmoil it has caused, simply by being discovered? By merely being?
I near the entrance to the subway, but apparently I am not walking fast enough for the dynamic go-getters on their commutes. One such businessman, a not-quite-thirty-something in a charcoal suit and shiny, tasseled loafers brushes past me rudely, jostling me a bit as he forces his way by. I shrink back, unwilling to subject myself, or the thing growing inside me, to such rude treatment. I allow the intrepid businesspeople to go first and head down into the dark tunnel only when they all have passed.
The turnstile lightly bumps my stomach as I push through it. I wonder if it can feel the pressure, if it is shaken by the force of the metal against my abdomen. Then I push the thought out of my head. I can’t think about it now, but it is all I can think about. I am at war with myself, and I don’t know what to do.
Six weeks.
The subway is crowded today with suits in various shapes and sizes, housewives and maids laden with shopping bags, women with infants strapped to their chests or their backs or with grubby hands clasped tightly to their own.
I watch the women, amazed at how commonplace it is for them to travel with their burdens.
One such woman intrigues me. She looks to be only a few years older than I, but already she is work-worn and weary. No matter how tired she appears, however, she has a gentle smile for her
little offspring, a boy of no more than five who looks up at her with such worship in his eyes it is almost sacrilegious. He smiles at his mother from his perch on the hard plastic bench and says in a little voice, “Are we almost home? I wanna play with my new ball.”
“Yes, honey, almost home. Another few minutes.”
“Ok. Can I have cookies when we get home?”
“No, you’ll spoil your dinner. We can have cookies later.”
He nods to himself, content with her answer, and passes the time until their stop by
thumping his little sneaker-clad feet against the bottom of the bench. An elderly woman looks up from her newspaper with a frown, but smiles when she sees what is causing the vibration on her seat. She must have children, or even grandchildren of her own, the way she’s looking at the little boy.
It’s hard for me to equate the little boy in front of me to the growth inside me. It’s strange to think that something that starts out so small will eventually want cookies and wear sneakers and walk and talk, that it will rely on me for its daily sustenance. Will I provide it? Can I?
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to handle it, how to handle myself. I cannot digest the news. I cannot react. I cannot change the past, but I can change the future, if I so choose. What should I choose?
The subway lurches to a stop and I blink against the searing sun as I exit and head toward home. Only one thing is for certain in the midst of all this uncertainty: I have six weeks to make a decision.

Just stuff...

2011-08-06T08:05:00.000-04:00

Hello!
I hope you enjoyed the author interviews featured here over the last two weeks. I'm busy rounding up more, and I'll get them posted as soon as I can. The support for these authors has been overwhelming, and I thank you all for your encouragement and praise. I thought I'd give you some updates on my books and other stuff since we have a lull in the interviews, so here goes.

Decisions is slowly picking up steam, and it currently has 2 reviews on Amazon. If anyone out there has read it, I'd love to hear from you! Let me know what you think. And thanks to those who have picked it up. Hopefully you can't put it down!

I received a flurry of communication from Diane, my wonderful publisher at Pfoxmoor/Pfoxchase Publishing regarding Six Weeks. We have selected some breathtaking images for the cover, and I cannot wait to see a mock-up. Very excited for you guys to see it too! I also went through and did another edit on Six Weeks, as we are anticipating a release for this month. If that is the case, get your tissues ready...

Hooking Up continues to do amazingly well on the Kindle Charts. I'm pleased to say that I hit my lowest amazon rank ever this past week. 150! So, all I can say is THANK YOU! Thank you all for your support and recommendations. And if it's not too much to ask, keep them coming? And due to the overwhelming response to Hooking Up, I'm pleased to announce that I'm right in the middle of a sequel! I don't want to give any details away, but there are some more changes and struggles coming for Catie, as well as an entrance, and exit, and some unexpected support.

Supermarket is also trucking right along, and I couldn't be happier. I have a soft spot for that novel because it was my first.

The Storm Within, my sexy fireman novel, is undergoing a facelift. I haven't received an answer yet from my submission July 1, so I'm busying myself polishing up the manuscript and getting it ready, should the contract come through.

I've been asked in the past how I come up with ideas for my books and how I do my research. Well, I do a lot of online research, but sometimes I have to do some field work. This picture explains...

Needless to say, I love being a writer!

I currently have another blog set up on a great site called speak without interruption. I've decided to use that blog for some random musings that may not have much to do with my books, but just life and writing in general. I'd love for you to pop over there and check it out. There are posts from amazing writers from all over the world and the range of topics is mind-boggling! The posts here will still be all about me and my author buddies. Sound good?

Hubby and I went to a Phillies game for hubby's birthday last weekend. We had a great time, although the heat was so unbearable I think we may have had a minor touch of heatstroke by the time the game was over. Whew! It was a hot one, but very, very worth it to make him happy.

I guess that's all for now. I'm mid-manuscript x 2 right now and editing another. My goal is to have at least one more book done by the end of this year. Not sure if it's doable, but it's a goal.

Have a wonderful day, and make sure to spend time with your loved ones!

Hugs,
Jess

Pooh Bridge, The amazing Nigel Lampard

2011-07-30T07:55:00.000-04:00

I'm so pleased to introduce to you all the incredible Nigel Lampard, whose brand-new book, Pooh Bridge, is receiving rave reviews on Amazon.com. Reviewers have called it thoroughly enjoyable, beautifully paced, and gripping.

So, without further ado, let's meet the man behind 11 5-star Amazon reviews and the wonderful mystery Pooh Bridge.

J: Hello, Nigel. Welcome to my blog! Thanks for joining me today.

N: My pleasure.

J: Who are you and what is your background?

N: As a relatively unqualified product English Grammar School system, I joined the British Army at the age of 16. Four years later I was commissioned from RMA Sandhurst into the Royal Army Ordnance Corps. I had a reasonably successful career and retired in 1999 having attained the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. I was appointed an OBE in 1996. During my service I served in the UK, Europe, the Middle and Far East and obtained a Post-Graduate Diploma in Organisational Psychology from the University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology.
Trained as an ammunition and explosives expert, I spent most of my commissioned service in command of ammunition related units. By virtue of the types of appointment I held, I had significant contact with the press, appeared on German television and was called upon to speak in public. On leaving the Army l had every intention of forming a management training company with three colleagues but although the company was a success, I soon realised that I wasn't going to have the time to follow a second career and also write. To this end I left the training company and worked in Warwickshire as a civil servant with the Army, advising and guiding servicemen and women in connection with their transition from the Army to civilian life. After eight years in this appointment I chose to retire at the same time as my wife, Jane, and we moved to Leigh-on-Sea in Essex.

J: What inspired you to write your first novel?

N: In the early 1980s I had a posting to Berlin. The city, its history, its people and its isolation in the middle of the then, Deutsche Demokratische Republik (DDR), intrigued me to such an extent that if it is possible to fall in love with a concrete jungle, I did. On returning to the UK after more than 2 years in Berlin the enduring need to continue the affair with this city by whatever means was overpowering and the only way open to me was to write about it. I embarked on my first novel, Who Needs Enemies (Paul Cameron, a British Army Major in Berlin in 1981 is blackmailed into helping with the escape of an East German citizen from East to West) with enthusiasm but with very little writing experience. I spent many years writing, editing, rewriting, discarding and rewriting again until eventually, some six years after starting, I was reasonably happy with my first novel.

J: What happened when you had finished your first novel?

N: I had caught the bug! I took Who Needs Enemies and rewrote it but this time from the blackmailer’s perspective. With Friends Like You was an interesting exercise and gave me a lot of food for thought for the future. Both of these parallel novels left some unanswered questions so I then wrote a sequel, The Truth About Berlin, which was even more of an adventure because out of necessity to the story I moved out of the safe military environment. In the last ten years I have written a further 10 novels, trying my hand at various genres. I dabbled with the publishing world, as did some of my loyal readers, but as with so many others, to no avail. I wasn’t too disappointed because the bug had turned into an epidemic and I continued to get great enjoyment out of writing.

J: What message are you trying to convey?

N: Am I trying to convey a message? I suppose the general theme throughout my novels is no matter what is going on around us, personal relationships are what life is really all about. However, I would like to change the question slightly and ask: what message do my books give me? I will use my 8th novel, Subliminal, to answer this question. I was walking through Ashby St Ledger, a delightful small village in Warwickshire, with my family when my elder son, Simon, asked me why I had never based one of my novels in the village because as we lived locally at the time, we visited it quite often and he thought it was an ideal setting. One intriguing fact about Ashby St Ledger was that it was where the gun powder plot of 1605 was hatched and planned. As the year was now 2004 I took my son’s idea forward. The year 2005 would be the 400th anniversary of the original plot: what an ideal time to launch such a novel in which I could blow up a few unsavoury politicians – of course the similarity of any of the characters to real politicians would have been purely coincidental! The main character in the book was called Peter Salter (a play on saltpetre being a constituent part of gunpowder) and all went well until Page 44. On Page 44 the characters in the book decided they weren’t going to play ball, and the plot moved away from gunpowder to the subconscious. How do I explain that? I have learnt that I may have a pretty detailed plan but inevitably the characters I create decide their own destiny and invariably it is not what I originally intended.

J: What is your intended audience?

N: My novels have been read by all ages from late teens to ninety years of age and the feedback I get from them is surprisingly similar. Because my novels are about the realities of life I think my readers can relate to the story as well as the characters. I try and retain the authenticities of life in my novels, and keep well away from fantasy – with one exception! I decided to have a go at science fiction so I wrote The Illegal Immigrant – my sons have suggested it wasn’t my best!

J: Where are currently with publishing any of your novels?

N: In September 2010, I was advised by Richard Grayling from Struggling Authors to submit the first chapter of any of my novels to Tim Roux, Night Publishing, for consideration. I chose my 4th novel, Pooh Bridge, because I was particularly pleased with it and also it was the first of my novels in which I completely moved away from any military content. Suffice to say Tim liked it and it appeared on Amazon in April 2011. Tim has said that he will run with all of my novels and the second – I haven’t decided whether it will be Obsession or Copper’s Ridge yet but it won’t be The Illegal Immigrant! – will go to him later this year.

J: Any there any projects forthcoming?

N: Over the years I always meant to get round to editing my novels properly but never really had the motivation, I just got on with writing new novels not expecting to have to delve into editing on a serious basis. But my circumstances have now changed. Over the next year I plan to finish 2 novels I started a couple of years ago, edit a sufficient number of the ones already written so that there is always one or two in the starting-blocks waiting to go. Then if time permits I may start another!

J: Where can we buy Pooh Bridge?

N: At the moment Pooh Bridge is available from Amazon and also from the local book shop, The Book Inn, in Leigh on Sea.

http://www.amazon.com/Pooh-Bridge-ebook/dp/B004U6LXHO/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t

J: What a fascinating interview this has been. Thank you so much for being here with me today, and best of luck with Pooh Bridge, and all of your other books!

N: Thank you for having me.

The Fantastic Robert Craven!

2011-07-23T09:20:00.000-04:00

I am priviledged to have a guest on my blog today. His name is Robert Craven, and he's the author of the conspiracy-driven Get Lenin, an amazing book set in WWII.

J: Rob, so nice of you to be here! So, what inspired you to write your book?

R: Two things really, the first one was my 40th birthday; one of those landmarks and I really wanted to get a novel published - an item I suppose was on my bucket list. I had written one a few years earlier about my years as a gigging musician in Ireland and on tour, but felt it was limited in its narrow appeal. I pitched it for about a year, then gave up - but didn’t forget the lesson when pitching Get Lenin which is NEVER EVER GIVE UP.
The second thing was living in Ireland I felt there was an endless production line of chick lit being pumped out and thought of an angle- less Mills & Boon, more Mills & BOOM! I had a very rough draft of an young editor who in the process of preparing a dying man’s memoirs uncovers a secret from WW2 and the conspiracy leads her to discover this once bastion of society had been a Nazi on the run. By uncovering this, she puts herself in peril. I then decided to set the story during the period itself rather than back-tracking through the plot - the conspiracy being Lenin’s tomb lay in a wreck of a submarine 100 miles off the East Coast of Ireland.

J: how long did it take you to write it?

R: It took three years to write the first draft; then I was lucky to be introduced to an editor and expert on WW2, Mr Hugh McCracken, to remove any historical innaccuracies. That took about a year and then I posted it up on Authonomy and found some really good comments & suggestions. Then I found Marta Przybysz, who gave me some great information on Poland to help build Eva’s back story - so from first draft to publication, about 5 years.

J: what message are you trying to convey?

R: The message is simple - propaganda is still an effective tool and the story of snatching Lenin’s tomb and using it as a piece of propaganda is as relevant today as it was then: Information can easily be twisted to suit a wider personal or political agenda; just look at how Rupert Murdoch’s media empire has been exposed and what it was involved in. I suppose the other message is that in war, there’s no good or bad guys only that in a conflict as big and as brutal as WW2 - especially The Eastern Front in 1941, all the lines get blurred.

J: what is your intended audience?

R: I’m hoping for was wide an audience as possible. I think everyone loves a good conspiracy and wants a bit of escapism though the premise and the genre of Get Lenin might certainly point towards a ‘cult’ following. The Second World War is a period of time that still has a morbid hold on the imagination even though it had been over for about 21 years before I was born; and I felt when writing it that there was another way to approach the action-adventure book; drawn from films of that period like ‘Casablanca”. I loved Elsa’s charcter and Victor Lazlo, but wanted a female MC with a bit more ‘bite’- from there my MC Eva evolved. I hope she’s a sympathetic enough character for everyone to root for, I love her.

J: So, tell us more about yourself.

R: I’m married & we have a son and I work for a packaging company in Dublin. I live in a lovely little seaside town called Rush. I had a fairly peripathetic childhood; born in England, emigrated when I was 10 to Sydney Australia, that didn’t work out after 2 years and the family moved here to Ireland where I’ve lived ever since.

J: Any projects forthcoming?

R: I’m in the process of completeing the sequel; working title “Zinnman”. It picks up 6 months after Get Lenin and America has just entered the war against Germany, Italy and Japan and the lines blur even further as the global conflict progresses.
I’ve also pitched the musician novel to Tim Roux at Night Publishing, but this would be a labour of love as looking back it’s a bit meandering and woefully out-of-date in some respects.

J: Where can we get your book?

R: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=get+lenin&x=16&y=18 (paperback & kindle)

and on smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/64438 (e-book)

Get Lenin is also on facebook here:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/GET-Lenin/201022183270225?ref=ts

J: Fantastic! Thank you so much for appearing on my blog today. It was wonderful to find out a little more about you and hear about your exciting book! Hopefully everyone checks it out!

R: Thank you for the interview, Jess.

Updates and things

2011-07-21T13:12:00.000-04:00

So, life's been busy these past few weeks. I finished the Storm Within around the first of July and it's been sent out on submission since around the 5th. I'm patiently waiting (yeah, right) to find out whether or not it's been picked up yet. The suspense is killing me, but I remain hopeful that it will find a home. I'm quite pleased with it.

Decisions is coming to print! Not sure when, but wait till you see my beautiful cover! The amazing Reese Dante really went above and beyond, I think.

I recently underwent a septoplasty (again) as the first one failed. I'm doing much better now than I was a week ago, but I still have some healing to do. If this doesn't work, we have to consider an open rhinoplasty, and I'm not sure I really want to do that. Oh, well. It's really just my luck.

Hooking Up and Supermarket are still doing pretty well, although sales are slowing a little. Know anyone who wants a great read for a great price? If so, do I have a deal for them!

I'm going to restructure my blog a little in August. I've been fortunate enough to have been interviewed on a bunch of my friends' blogs and they've given me some wonderful PR. It's time to return the favor. So, here's what I'm going to do. Author buddies, do you want your book/projects featured on my blog? Send me a message on facebook with your email address and I'll send you a message with what I need from you. Keep in mind that Blogger has been acting squirrely, and I might not be able to do everything, but I'll try.

Anyway, it's hotter than heck here this week, and I'm ready for some cooler air. The temperature indicator in my car was at 120 degrees Fehrenheit at 5:00 this afternoon. Enough is enough, Mother Nature!

Hugs for now,
Jess

Giveaway time!

2011-07-20T22:24:00.000-04:00

So, here's the contest I threw together...I'm so not good at this stuff!

All you need to do to enter is follow my blog. On August 1, I'll randomly pick a person who will receive an e-copy of Decisions, my latest book! And of course, if you'd like to comment on my blog, you might even get another entry...

It couldn't be more simple. I think. I'm really not good at structuring giveaways, but I don't think I can screw this one up. We'll see, I guess.

Good luck, and of course, if you can't wait until August 1 to get your very own copy of Decisions, pop on over to Amazon to check it out!

Oh, and guess what? It'll be out as a paperback soon...

Hugs,
Jess

Decisions!

2011-07-16T09:35:00.000-04:00

I'm pleased to announce that Decisions is now available for sale on Amazon! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you let me know what you think. Happy reading!

PS-I'll be dreaming up a contest soon to give away a free copy, but I'm not entirely sure how to structure it yet. Any ideas?

Jess

Updates-Great stuff!

2011-06-18T11:49:00.000-04:00

Hello,
I'm very excited to announce some wonderful happenings!

First, Six Weeks, my brand-new novella, is under contract! I'm pleased to announce that Pfoxmoor/Pfoxchase Publishing has picked it up and will release it around August, 2011. I'm over the moon and very excited to find out what our beta readers think of it.

Next, Decisions has a launch date! It will be available for purchase on July 16, 2011. I popped over to www.spsilverpublishing.com to check things out, and my author page has grown. My absolutely breathtaking book cover is on there, as is a synopsis, a price, and a release date. I couldn't be happier.

Next, Hooking Up is taking off, and it's bringing Supermarket with it! I'm absolutely thrilled, and very grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on either book. Thank you!

Next, It's official: I'm finally a college graduate! The events surrounding my graduation were a little scary, but it got done. Let's just say that if I never see another tornado blow past my car (while I'm in it) and have to drive 2 hours to get home because every possible path from where I was five miles down the road is blocked by trees, police, and downed powerlines, it'll be too soon. Hmmm....sounds like a book in the making!

Next, I had an absolutely fabulous time with the amazing firemen at the Elmira Fire Department two weeks ago. What an awesome group of guys they are! Very gracious, humble, and helpful. Big thanks to the chief for allowing me to do some field research. As a result of their assistance, I have been able to push forward quite a ways with The Storm Within, and now I think I'll be able to finish that manuscript.

Everything is going better than I could have possibly dreamed, and I'm stunned. I hope that we can keep the momentum going, because this is too fun to stop!

I linked my blog to my amazon author page in hopes that I might attract more readers/subscribers. So, if you've wandered over here from Amazon, welcome, and please feel free to follow the blog. I'd love to hear from you, so comments are always welcomed!

Anyway, I hope you all have a fantastic day...chat soon!

Jess

Book covers-Existing and Brand-New!

2011-06-02T18:31:00.000-04:00

The Craziness that is My Life

2011-05-26T06:52:00.000-04:00

So, it's been a while since I've posted, because there's been so much going on! I am not even sure where to start...

I finally finished my semester at college, and I'll graduate tomorrow! I can't believe it's finally over. I've spent the last three and a half years working toward this moment that I'm a little sad that it's over. I've learned so much, not only about the world around me, but also about myself.

My advisor at school nominated me for the Continuing Education Part-Time Student Award, and I got to go to the award banquet on Saturday. It was nice! They gave me a plaque and a nice meal, and talked about me to the whole room. It was strange, but nice.

Two weekends ago, I wrote a novella. Yes, in a weekend. I did 32,000 words in about 4days. It's called Six Weeks, and it's written in the first-peron, present tense, dedtailing six weeks in the life of Imogene Jones, a nineteen-year-old girl who finds out she's pregnant. She has six weeks to choose what to do about it. I felt this piece, from the bottom of my soul. It was easy to get it on paper. I'm pretty happy about it, and I've actually already sent it out on submission and received a request for a full. Fingers crossed, please!

Hooking Up has also been released and it's doing amazingly well! I cannot believe the response that my little book has been getting. I'm on cloud 9! If I'm being honest, though, I'm a little scared at the same time. The more people who read it, the more potential for negative feedback, and although I'm tough and I can handle it, it's still scary to put yourself out there. Sometimes I think reviewers forget that there are warm-blooded people behind the books they read. Be gentle!

On the medical front, everything is going mainly ok. My septoplasty didn't work, so that has to be done over again. I have an appointment scheduled. My big issue is that I have two options on how to fix the problem, and one is worse than the other, but it has a better success rate, so we're leaning on going that way. I'm just worried that I won't be ready for the gig my band has at Riverfest in August. Decisions, Decisionsan.

Oh, and speaking of Decisions, it will be released by Silver Publishing on July 16! I got an email from Reese, the cover designer, and he sent me some lovely model choices to pick from. I think we've depicted my characters perfectly, and I can't wait to see the finished cover!

I'm working on The Storm Within again, and waiting for the help of some wonderful friends to read through my WIP to see what they think. That one has been hard for me, and I'm just plain stuck. I'll get there, but I definitely need some motiviation.

I think that's it for now. Everything is going along swimmingly, and I cannot believe how amazing this year has been so far. Thank you to all of my readers, and to my friends and family who have been so supportive. You guys are amazing!

Jess

Hook yourself up!

2011-04-30T20:19:00.000-04:00

It's coming soon! I'm guessing that by mid-week, you'll be able to purchase a brand-spanking new copy of Hooking Up. To celebrate, I'm going to give away a signed copy once I get my hands on some. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, feast your eyes on my beautiful cover!

Hooray!

2011-04-30T09:36:00.001-04:00

Hooking Up is on the way! We just finished edits and we're working on all the fun parts now: the cover, the back cover text, layouts, etc. I'm so excited!
Here's the cover we designed. Tim did a rather amazing job, if I do say so myself. Can't wait to see the back cover as well, but as Tim is moving mountains to do this for me so quickly, I'm going to be patient and leave him alone!

Updates

2011-04-19T09:32:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm back, and my surgery was a relative success. In that, I mean that I no longer have tonsils, and my nose was operated on as well. However, my nose is giving me a bit of trouble, and the surgeon is not entirely sure that the operation worked. Still, it's done and over with, and I'm doing my best to heal in a timely fashion.

Things have been zooming forward with Decisions. Lisa, my amazing editor at Silver, finished initial edits and surprised me with some more a few weeks after I thought we had finished. It was a grueling few days, but I'm glad we did what we did, because I think the story is stronger for it. Now I'm waiting on the good ol' USA to approve my copyright. Waiting, waiting, waiting...

My fabulous Night Publishing editor/publisher/cover designer, Tim, has been hard at work on my cover, and (presumably) edits for Hooking Up. He advised that I'm still slated for an April release. I'm keeping my fingers crossed because I haven't seen an edited MS yet, and I'm running out of April. He's a very busy man, so I'm trying (I swear) not to bother him too much. I'm notoriously impatient, however, and having a really hard time leaving him in peace.

I'll graduate from college (provided I pass my accounting class) in about a month. I cannot believe it! I've been a part-time college student for three and a half years now. I'ts been a long haul. Now that the end is in sight, I'm bouncing off the walls in anticipation and keeping my fingers crossed that I get through my last few tests.

I've decided to leave the radio station due to time constraints. I'm extremely worn-out and burned out with everything going on, and I think it's time to take a break. Can you imagine how heavenly it will be to only worry about work and home, and not work, home, school, and radio station? Looking back, I'm honestly not sure how I've managed to do everything. I'm exhausted just thinking about it!

As far as my work-in-progress goes, The Storm Within is over 50,000 words now, but I'm really not sure about a lot of it. Yes, this is a first draft, and I have a long way to go, but I have a feeling that I need to reevaluate where the story has gone and work on refining some of my characters and the motives behind their actions. I wish that the muse would come and stay instead of come and go. I'll get on a huge writing jag, bang out three thousand words, and then lose it for a month. It's no wonder, with everything else going on, but still, I hate losing the "feel" of my story. It's a long process to reclaim it.

I think that's all for now. I'm glad it's Spring here in Pennsylvania. I'm feeling reborn myself; eager and hopeful and excited for what's to come. Thanks to all of my readers out there. I'd love for you to recommend my blog to your friends!

Hugs,
Jess

Updates

2011-03-02T21:47:00.000-05:00

So, it's been a while since I've posted, but I've been busy! Life seems to be careening ahead, full speed, while I stand in the dust yelling, "Wait!"

Things are moving with Hooking Up and Decisions. I got a nice email out of the blue from Lisa, my editor for Decisions, advising that she was halfway through and expected to contact me within a few days. We apparently have to have the edits done before April, but she said that she anticipated being done a long time before then. I think I'm relieved. Does that mean that they haven't found much to change? Oh, I hope so!

I talked to my publisher at Night Publishing today and asked him about Hooking Up (the book...get your minds out of the gutter!). He said late March, early April. So, it appears that I'll be editing two books at the same time. Yikes! I think I can, I think I can...

I'm also hot and heavy in the middle of my fourth book, The Storm Within. It's a novel about a war widow who gets stranded with a sexy fireman during a blizzard. There's more to it than that, of course, but that's the main gist. I'm having way too much fun researching firemen. I plan on calling on a few of our local fire departments soon to do some field research. Ladies, quit drooling!

With all of this going on, I still have my full-time job, school (I'll be done in May, thank goodness!) my band, and my family. I'm tired.

I'm also going in for surgery on April 5. I'm scheduled to have a tonsillectomy and my deviated septum repaired. I'm pretty darned nervous about it, but I think that I'll feel much better afterwards. The funny part of that scenario is that when the nurse came into the exam room to schedule the surgery, she handed me this pamphlet. Why is that funny? Well, the pamphlet was designed for seven-year-olds. I got a comic-book style description of how my tonsils were making me sick and how the doctor would meet me at the hospital (a place filled with people who help me to feel better) and zoom around my body in a spaceship. I'm very glad I read that comic book, because if I hadn't, I might have been worried.

In any event, I think that's all that's going on now. Check out my facebook page for the latest in updates and other random nonsense. Hugs for now! Talk soon...

Jess

A new contract!

2011-02-06T08:12:00.000-05:00

It appears that I'm three for three! I just signed a contract for Decisions and I'm already receiving emails from the editor-in-chief to explain the process and get the ball rolling. I'm beyond happy!

I feel blessed. Truly I do. I have no idea how this happened. A little over a year ago, I got inspired and started writing. Now, I'm an author. Please, somebody, pinch me!

I think the point I'm trying to make is this: Believe in yourself. I'm living proof that dreams can come true. It hasn't been easy, but it happened. Don't give up on your dreams. Work at it. Be the best you can possibly be and enjoy the ride. Most importantly, have fun with it, and take some time to be thankful for what you've accomplished.

So now, my new dilemma becomes what to write next. I have a few little works-in-progress, but I seem to have stalled on all of them. Maybe I'll start something new. Ok, anyone have any ideas? Here we go again!

Decisions, Chapter 1 edited

2011-02-02T23:09:00.000-05:00

Ok, so here's my latest version of this chapter. If you compare it to what I have on my blog from a few months ago, you can see it's changed a lot! I hope this new version is better, and I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1
Emma pulled up in front of her stately childhood home and suppressed a sigh. Her parents had promised a small get-together, but obviously had been unable to restrain themselves.
She didn’t want a party. She was tired, having worked at her father’s office across town all day, and all she wanted was a quiet meal and an early bedtime. But, Schooner being Schooner, he had pulled out all the stops, and it was only for show. After all, it wasn’t every day that the daughter of an illustrious Pennsylvania Senator had her twenty-first birthday, and appearances must be kept.
Emma smoothed her skirt, adjusted her jacket, and knocked on the heavy wrought iron doorknocker. A white-gloved servant ushered her inside, and she hid her reflexive groan in a yawn when she heard the murmur of classy voices in the adjoining ballroom and parlor. She hated the opulence of this house as much as she hated the demands her father’s career placed on her lifestyle. She sniffed the air and sighed again. Of course there would be no pizza and soda for Senator Tremaine’s offspring. It had to be caviar, pâté, and filet mignon. It couldn’t be a small party; it had to be an event. After all, his constituents expected it. And Schooner loved it all.
No sooner had she handed her purse and coat to a passing maid was she was immediately summoned to Schooner’s study. She maneuvered through the crowded house until she reached her father’s sanctuary.
Schooner was ensconced in the study with two men she didn’t recognize. The lighting was dim in the wood-paneled room and the air was fragrant with tobacco smoke that hung about in hazy layers. All three men held brandy snifters and cigars and appeared to be in the middle of a serious conversation. Schooner glanced up and smiled at his daughter.
“Emma, darling, come here. This is Mr. Robert Taylor, of PennTex Drilling. And this is Gray, his son.”
“Yes, of course. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Taylor, Gray,” Emma said dutifully. She was used to meeting people. Her father held many meetings and social gatherings at the house all the time. She had hoped that tonight would be different, but she knew better.
She smiled at the men and surreptitiously studied the younger Taylor. She had never met Gray before, but since he and his father had moved to Pennsylvania, she’d heard stories about his business acumen and killer looks. Gray was twenty-four, fresh out of Harvard Business School. He was being groomed to take over his father’s natural gas company.
He instantly appealed to her with his blond carelessly-styled hair and stormy eyes. The cut of his suit fit his form impeccably, and there was an air of artless sophistication about him that gave her youthful heart stutters.
“Gray, why don’t you take Emma outside for some fresh air,” Schooner suggested with a scheming twinkle in his eye. Emma noticed it and was immediately suspicious. What was her father up to? Normally he paid one of his goons to guard her closely around strangers, not encouraged her to go run off with one.
Gray rose from his chair, took her arm, and escorted her out of the room.
“Would you care to dance, Emma?” Gray asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Emma returned, smiling up at him.
They walked to the already crowded dance floor. Slow orchestra music from the band tucked into the music alcove in the front of the room filled the air.
Gray gathered her up and held her close. Emma snuggled in shyly, enjoying the feel of him pressed up against her. He was an excellent dancer, and she relaxed in his arms. She smiled up at him beguilingly and he smiled down at her. Was she imagining the mocking behind his gaze?
“Happy birthday, Emma.”
“Thank you.”
“So, is there anything special you want for your birthday?”
“Yes, to be able to go to bed early and get out of these shoes. It looks like I didn’t get my wish.”
“Hmm. You don’t like parties?”
“No, they’re really more of my father’s thing. I hate crowds. He seems to thrive in them. He doesn’t understand why I don’t like them.”
“So, why don’t you like them?”
“I’ve been thrust in the spotlight for as long as I can remember. Dad always dragged me and my mom out like we were display pieces whenever it was convenient for his campaign. I hate being examined, I guess, like a fish in an aquarium. I just want to lead a normal life, that’s all.”
“Alright, then. Let’s go out on the balcony. Your father wanted me to talk to you, anyway, and I’d rather do it away from your guests.”
He took her hand and led her to the second-story balcony of Schooner’ stately home, taking in the cool evening air, when Gray spoke to her about the real reason behind the party.
“Our parents wanted us to meet, Emma.”
“Yes, well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Indeed. Do you know why they wanted us to meet?”
“Is your father a supporter of my father? He’s always courting the businessmen he thinks can help him get reelected,” Emma said bitterly.
“Well, partly, but there are other reasons.” He smiled down at her again with that same mocking expression as before on his face.
“Other reasons? Like what?” Emma was confused.
“Your father is a senator, right? And he owns quite a bit of land and a real estate business besides?”
“Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“We moved here from Texas a few months back. My father’s company has been buying up land all over Pennsylvania. There’s a wealth of natural gas under the ground. If he can’t buy the land, he’s offering leases to all of the landowners, paying them to gain access to their land for drilling. It’s big business, you know. Our company started with oil in Texas, and we’re hoping to branch out to natural gas. This area is a treasure trove of gas just waiting to be tapped. Pennsylvania is right smack in the middle of the Marcellus Shale Formation.”
“So I’ve heard. Does my father want to get in on the rush?” Emma frowned.
“My father has faced some opposition with the state. He’s not from around here, and the locals don’t like the idea of a flatlander coming here and scooping up all the land. Then there’s the tree huggers who like to confuse facts and accuse natural gas drillers of polluting water supplies and causing explosions.”
“So? I still don’t see your point.”
“The point is that my father has convinced your father that we mean business. And one way of blocking the opposition from the State is to put down some permanent roots.”
“Is my father selling you some property, then?”
“You could say that.” Gray smiled at Emma. “Our parents have arranged for us to marry.”

Giveaway time!

2011-02-02T14:54:00.000-05:00

I love giveaways! I sent two signed copies of Supermarket to Twiddy to raffle off. Good luck to all participants! In fact, I was so stoked about their giveaway that I decided to host my own!

I am very excited about Hooking Up coming out in March, and I thought I'd give the promotion a little jump start by holding a drawing for a free signed copy when it's released!

Here's how to enter the drawing:

1) go to amazon.com and purchase a copy of How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket. You can buy the paperback or the e-copy of the book.

2) message me here, on facebook, night reading, or my regular email to let me know you purchased it.

3) I'll put your name in the drawing once I receive the message. The drawing will be held in March upon the release of Hooking Up.

I hope you all participate. Depending on the size of the response, I may even have more than one winner. Good luck, and happy reading!

a little shameless plugging!

2011-01-29T19:14:00.000-05:00

My family and I recently contacted the fine folks at Twiddy and Company Realtors to book our vacation rental for our upcoming trip. Those guys are amazing! They were more than happy to work with us, and in my opinion, they are the best vacation rental company in the Outer Banks! Everyone I've talked to there has been very gracious and kind and informative. That's one of the reasons why we only rent from them when we go down south on our OBX vacations.

Here's the link to their site. Check out these homes!

http://www.twiddy.com/

They also have a facebook page:

http://www.facebook.com/#!/TwiddyOuterBanks

They are agreeing to help me do a little promotion of my book and I'm sending them a few signed copies to give away in some prize packs. I'm very grateful and excited!

Once I get details on the promotion, I'll pass along the word.

Updates

2011-01-25T07:36:00.000-05:00

Hello, all...

It's been a while since I've updated you all on what's been going on. With the holidays and the rest of real life, I haven't had much time (or energy) to blog.

Holidays were very nice this year, and I enjoyed snow-tubing with my family on New Year's Eve. It was fun!

On January 3, 2011, I accepted an offer from Night Publishing to publish Hooking Up in March! Very excited, and the time is just flying by. Can't wait to see how the finished product turns out.

I recently finished edits on Decisions (for now). I think I might be done, but there is always room for improvement. I'm letting it sit for a few days, then I'll read it again and see what I can do. Looking for feedback on that one, so if you are on Authonomy, please pop in and check it out. Thanks!

I did submit it to a publisher, and their turnaround time is usually pretty quick, so we'll see what happens. Fingers crossed!

School just started back up for me yesterday, so now my time will become even more precious. But, this is my last semester of college before I earn my Associate's Degree, so I'm excited. I've been waiting for this and working toward this since August 2007. It's about time!

I have an upcoming speaking engagement in March, another in June, and I'll be interviewed on a local TV station tomorrow morning. I'll try to figure out how to record footage and upload it here...

Lots going on, but all positive.

Gotta run...keep writing, reading, and dreaming!

Tis the Season

2010-12-14T19:29:00.000-05:00

At this time of year, I always tend to get a little introspective. And really, who doesn't? The end of the year signifies a rebirth, a new beginning, a time to reflect, heal, and grow. I've experienced a lot of personal growth this year, and I'm excited to continue that process in 2011.

It occurred to me today as I was driving home just how lucky I am. My car pumps out the heat, keeping me warm, my job provides food for my family and personal interaction with the outside world, my family provides everything else I need to survive. I'm a lucky woman.

In fact, I realized today just how much I take for granted. Many people out there are lonely, cold, and hungry. They don't have the benefit of a fulfilling career, caring family and friends, and food on the table. I have my health. I'm able to walk, talk, breathe, and take care of myself. A lot of people can't say the same. Truly, my friends, I'm blessed.

I'm not saying all of this stuff to rub my good fortune in the faces of those who have naught. Quite the contrary. I'm saying this because I just realized it. Really realized it. Life is good, and it's high time I appreciated it. It's amazing how we let life's little irritations get in the way of our joy. We complain about our daily commute, our jobs, our coworkers, everything that we have. We don't stop to take stock of what we have and really be thankful.

So, this is one of the goals I've set for myself for the upcoming year. I'm going to take a moment each day to be thankful. I'm going to get down on my knees and thank the powers that be that I have what I do. I'm not going to complain about life's little difficulties becuase I'm lucky enough to have my life. I'm going to cherish every day that I've been given and consider myself honored that I have all that I do.

In addition to being thankful, I'm pledging now to be positive. I'm going to try again to see the good in every person, be nonjudgemental and kind to everyone I meet and try to help in any way that I can. I think that this is one thing that we as a society lack. We focus on the negative and overlook the positive. So, I quit. I'm done behaving in a negative way. I'm going to be positive and spread that positivity like seeds. Who knows what will grow?

So there's my little promise to you, and to myself. I am committed to doing these things, among others. What's your promise?

Finally!

2010-11-07T08:45:00.001-05:00

It's official! How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket is now available on amazon.com!

Here's the link...

http://www.amazon.com/How-Meet-Guy-At-Supermarket/dp/145631100X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1289137207&sr=1-1

Thanks to each and every person who has supported me and shared in my joy. I'm truly grateful and very amazed that my little book, started as a way to help my family while we were experiencing financial troubles, is actually out there for all to see and (hopefully) enjoy. This is too much.

Hugs, and happy reading!

Coming Soon to Amazon.com!

2010-11-02T21:23:00.000-04:00

Yep... you read that right. How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket will be released soon by Night Publishing! I'll make a formal announcement when the time comes, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. And in a few weeks, I'll be touring down in the Outer Bank for a few days. I hope the weather is nice. Right now in Northwestern Pennsylvania, it's 30 degrees and cold, cold, cold. I'm not ready for snow, or ice, or 4-wheel drive. Sigh. That's what I get for living here.

My creative juices seem to have been flowing lately, too. Decisions recently underwent a huge overhaul, and I'm happier now with how it's going. I'm about 26,000 words in, and I'm debating on whether or not to incorporate some point-of-view shifts. I think that'll help with length, and it'll make the plot a little more rounded. This book is a first for me. It's written in third person, whereas Supermarket and Hooking Up are both written in first. Third person has presented some challenges. I find myself a little distanced from my character. When I write in first, I tend to get very involved in how she feels and thinks,and unfortunately, I think my writing tends to be a little repetitive. Third has been fun, and a refreshing change of pace.

I started another book tentatively called Worth, and I love my main character so far! Her name is Adelaide Dawson, and she's great. And she's big. And she's a great big mess. Addie is living far beneath her potential. She's a big girl in a dead end job with a loser for a boyfriend who eventually becomes verbally abusive. Her nasty boyfriend Dennis has finally walked out,and Addie's forced to make some choices. Will she drown her sorrows in food? Will she decide she's had enough? Or will she pick herself up and show Dennis a thing or two about the woman he thought was worthless? Wait and see! There might be a preview soon...

So, that's all my news for now. Stay tuned for the release of How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket!

Hugs,

Jess

By Jove, I think we've got it!

2010-10-24T12:48:00.001-04:00

Here's the complete new cover for Supermarket. We've been busy. Final edits are done, the cover is done and the back cover text has been sorted out. Now, I just wait for the book to hit the stores!

I'm extremely satisfied, happy, and excited!!! I knew that 2010 was going to be a good year. I said so since January. And now, my prediction is coming true!

Also, the date of the book tour has been changed. We're now touring from November 22-25. So much fun!

Chapter 1 preview, Decisions

2010-10-03T19:19:00.000-04:00

So, here's chapter one from Decisions. This one is brand-new, so go easy on me! Still writing it, but I'm two days and 10,000 words in. This one may actually be fairly quick to write. Of course, after writing comes editing. Sigh.

Decisions-Chapter 1

Emma Tremaine kicked at the sand beneath her manicured toes furiously and scowled. Damn her parents, anyway, for making this necessary. So bunking at a beach house in an absolutely beautiful ocean-side community for the summer wasn’t exactly a hardship, but the reason for this vacation grated on her nerves.

She didn’t want to marry Gray Taylor. And they couldn’t make her.

Yes, he was gorgeous, young, athletic, and wealthy, but those weren’t the only qualities Emma looked for in a man. The man of her choosing also had to be nice. And Gray wasn’t.

In fact, he was ruthless and cold. Emma still remembered the last run-in she’d had with him. And her ego still smarted.

Emma was nineteen the first time she’d met him, young, idealistic, and impressionable. Gray had been twenty-four, fresh out of Harvard Business School. He was being groomed to take over his father’s natural gas company. They met at a party that Emma’s dad, Senator Schooner Tremaine, had thrown for the wealthy businessmen of Harrisburg. Emma had never met Gray before, but she’d heard stories about his business acumen and killer looks. He instantly appealed to her with his blond carelessly-styled hair and stormy gray eyes. The cut of his suit fit his form impeccably, and there was an air of artless sophistication about him that gave her youthful heart stutters. She smiled when her father introduced them and accepted his invitation to dance.

He gathered her up and held her against his warm, firm frame. Her virgin body responded to him naturally. He was an excellent dancer, and she felt herself relaxing into his arms. She smiled up at him beguilingly and he squeezed her once.
The hours seemed to fly by as they glided around the dance floor.

Later, they stood on the balcony of Schooner Tremaine’s stately house, taking in the cool evening air, when Gray spoke to her about the real reason behind the party.

“Our parents wanted us to meet, Emma.”

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

“Indeed. Do you know why they wanted us to meet?”

“No, but Daddy always introduces me to his friends’ children. I assume that’s why.”

“Well, partly, but there are other reasons.” He smiled down at her mockingly.

“Other reasons? Like what?” Emma was confused.

“Your father is a senator, right? And he owns quite a bit of land and a real estate business besides?”

“Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“We moved here from Texas a few years back. My dad’s company has been buying up land all over Pennsylvania. There’s a wealth of natural gas under the ground. If he can’t buy the land, he’s offering leases to all of the landowners, paying them to gain access to their land for drilling. It’s big business, you know. Our company started with oil in Texas, and we’re hoping to branch out to natural gas. This area is a treasure trove of gas just waiting to be drilled.”

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with us.” Emma frowned.

“My father has faced some opposition with the state. He’s not from around here, and the locals don’t like the idea of a non-resident flatlander coming here and scooping up all the land. Then there’s the tree huggers who like to confuse facts and accuse natural gas drillers of polluting water supplies and causing explosions.”

“So? I still don’t see your point.”

“The point is that my father has convinced your father that we mean business. And one way of blocking the opposition from the state is to put down some permanent roots. In that, I mean that they have arranged for us to marry. If we intertwine ourselves with a local family, the lines blur between yours and ours. Your family is accepted. And so will we be.”

“But that’s ridiculous! I don’t even know you! Besides, arranged marriages don’t even exist anymore.”

“They happen more than you think, and for reasons exactly such as this.”

“But I don’t want to get married. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Not really. And it’s not like you have a choice.” He glanced down at her and stepped toward her, taking her chin in his hand. She grabbed his wrist and removed his hand from her face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered indignantly.

“Checking out the merchandise, so to speak.”

“Excuse me? I’m not for sale.”

“Well, in a way, you are. My father gave your father a nice financial incentive to arrange this deal.”

“I don’t care who you think you are, I’m not a deal, and I’m not going to be bartered for like one of your damn Texas Longhorns. This is absolutely insane. I’m going to find my father right now and demand that he break up this—deal—right now.”
She spun to leave, but Gray grabbed her arm and yanked her to him. She slammed against his broad chest, the wind knocked out of her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her recklessly, deeply, violently. She tried to push against him, but he only held her more firmly.

When he released her, she slapped him in the face. “How dare you!”

“You’ll be my wife, Emma. Our fathers have agreed.”

“Well, I’m un-agreeing, you arrogant bastard. I don’t want you.”

“Do you think I want you any more than you want me? Look at you--nineteen, a spoiled brat, and completely unwise to the ways of the world. I have a girlfriend, you know. And she’s not happy about this either. But, I’ve made arrangements to ensure that she’s taken care of, even after our wedding.”

“Oh, really? So, I’m just supposed to marry you and allow you to visit your mistress any time you like while your father plots to take over the state of Pennsylvania and drill for natural gas?”

“Yes.”

“That’s absurd.”

“That’s business.”

“But what about love?”

“It’s irrelevant. You’re nothing more to me than a way to help my dad get what he wants.”

She ran from him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She entered the house and found her father in his study with Robert Taylor. Both men had brandy snifters in hand, cigars lit and casting fragrant smoke around the room.

“Daddy, what is the meaning of this? Gray just told me that you and Mr. Taylor have agreed on an arranged marriage?” She tripped over the words, furious beyond belief.

“Princess, calm down. It’s a done deal. We’ll discuss this in the morning, after you’ve had a chance to settle down and think this through.”

“Like hell! You can’t do this. I won’t let you.”

“Emma, your dad has already signed a contract. The merging of our businesses, and our lives, will take place. I’m sure you’ll find Gray to be an excellent husband and provider.”

She screamed in fury and fled the room.

The next morning, Schooner sat her down and explained that there was no rush. She and Gray would be free to do as they wished for now, but they would have to marry after Emma turned twenty-one.

Emma cried and protested, but Schooner held firm. Even Natalie, Emma’s mother, was supportive of the idea and did nothing to help her daughter. The incentive that the Taylor family had provided for this occasion must have been huge. Emma didn’t want to think about it. She holed herself up in her room for a solid week, moping, protesting, and thinking. Eventually, her parents forced her to come out and start living her life again.

Gray didn’t come back after the party. Instead, he sent a terse note letting her know he wouldn’t bother her until their wedding. After all, he had other things to see to. Emma read between the lines and wondered if the other thing was a blonde or a brunette.

Eventually, things settled down. Gray stayed away and Emma pretended that he didn’t exist. After a year, Gray left Pennsylvania, and Emma heard rumors that he was engaged to a woman back in Texas. She breathed a sigh of relief and considered the deal broken. Before long, she had forgotten all about the arrangement and concentrated on life instead.

On the night of Emma’s twenty-first birthday, however, she realized she had been wrong to think that the deal was broken. Dead wrong. Schooner arranged for a black-tie dinner at her favorite restaurant in downtown Harrisburg, and Emma was delighted to see many of her friends and family there. But when she saw one of her guests, her heart flew up to her throat.

What was he doing here?

Gray looked just as delicious as he did two years before. But he had the same cold, ruthless look in his eyes. And he was headed straight for her.

“Emma,” he acknowledged. He took her slender hand in his and slid an enormous engagement ring on her finger.

“What are you doing here? And what is this? That deal is over. You’re engaged to someone else, aren’t you?”

“Who said the deal was over?”

“I—I just assumed. I heard you were engaged. And no one said anything about anything recently. I thought that it was just another one of my dad’s stupid deals that fell through. This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening,” she protested weakly. The room started to spin and her eyes began to blur.

Gray grabbed her by the elbow and ushered her into a chair. “Can’t have my future wife fainting on me, can I?” he mocked her.

“I’m not your future wife.”

“The bargain still stands, Emma. Face it. You’ll soon be Emma Taylor. Mrs. Gray Taylor.”

“Oh, god.”

“Sorry. He can’t help you.”

“I see that. Not when my dad struck a deal with the devil.”

“Quick-witted, are we?”

“Better than nit-witted, like some people I know. And what about that woman you’re engaged to in Texas?”

“She’ll keep.”

“Oh, you arrogant bastard.”

“You’ve called me that before.”

“Well, if the shoe fits.”

“Sorry, Cinderella, the ball’s over.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” She stomped off and found her father, holed up once again with Robert Taylor.

“Dad? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Oh, Princess! Happy birthday. Having fun?” He slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. He had a little more scotch in him than was prudent, Emma thought.

“Dad, why did you invite Gray here? And why did you let him think the deal was still on?”

“Because it is, Pumpkin. What made you think it wasn’t?”

Oh, lord. She was in trouble now.

“Well, I refuse.”

“You can’t,” Robert Taylor said quietly. “Emma, Gray will see that you’re very well taken care of. I know that perhaps this is not the way you envisioned marriage, but it will work out.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do to talk you out of this? Please?”

“I’m afraid not. This merger is going to mean wonderful things for our families, my company, and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.”

Gray approached her and said, “Do you want to dance?”

“No, I don’t. But I suppose I have to until I figure out how to get out of this mess. No sense making a scene.”

She followed him to the dance floor and allowed herself to be led by him. His arms were warm and strong around her, and she thought it was quite a shame that he was such a jerk, and quite a shame that she’d have to let down both her parents and Pennsylvania. She was not going to marry this man.

“I hate you, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Get used to me now, Emma. I’ll make sure you never want for anything, and we’ll play the loving couple in public. No one has to know about Diane.”

“That’s the name of your mistress?”

“She’s more than my mistress. I love her.”

“So why are you agreeing to marry me? And why is she ok with this?”

“Because she knows I’m worth waiting for. After five years, you and I will file for divorce and I’ll marry her.”

“Excuse me?”

“Five years will give us enough time to sire an heir to my father’s business. You’ll be provided for generously, of course.”

“This is surreal. There’s no way that I’d sleep with you, you louse. And why go through the charade in the first place when we’re just going to get divorced? Why drag us into this deal?”

“Believe me; I don’t want to sleep with you either. You aren’t my type, and you’re flattering yourself if you think I actually want to have anything to do with you. But, business is business, and I’m doing this for my dad. Diane can’t have children. We need an heir. And you know the other reasons. We need an in with this place if we want to grow the business. You’re the in.”

Emma shrieked. Natalie came running and put her arm around her daughter’s waist. She led her from the banquet hall into a private anteroom.

“Listen, honey. I know how awful this seems now, but really, it’s a great deal. You’ll end up quite wealthy, I promise. The contract provides for a million dollar allowance per year for twenty years. That’s a great deal of money for someone your age. You can do whatever you want.”

“No, I can’t. You and Dad have made that quite clear. Mom, why would you let him do this to me?”

“Oh, sweetie, I just wanted to make sure you were provided for. I just want what’s best for you.”

“And how is this best for me? Marrying me off to a man I don’t love, who doesn’t love me?”

“He’ll come to in time, I’m sure of it. Listen, I know how strange this must be for you, so we’ve arranged for you to take a little trip, anywhere you want to go. Spend the summer by yourself, sow your oats if you’re so inclined, and then you’ll come back in the fall to get married.”

“This is insane. I cannot believe you’d sell your own daughter. I’ll take the trip, but I will not marry that man. You’ll be lucky if I come back.”

That was a week ago. She had packed her luggage, boarded a plane, and landed in the magnificent Outer Banks of North Carolina, a jewel of geography nestled between the Atlantic and Currituck Sound.

She rented a house in Duck, North Carolina and settled in, trying to forget that she was engaged to be married to a man she didn’t love, a man who didn’t love her, who drove her nuts every time he got within a hundred yards of her.

It was June 21, and she was expected back in Harrisburg on September 21. Until then, she was to play in the sand, lie in the sun, shop, and convince herself that she had to do her duty. Emma had other ideas. She had some decisions to make.

No news is good news?

2010-10-02T21:34:00.000-04:00

So, nothing back yet from the publisher who requested the full MS for Hooking Up. The last correspndence I got was a thank you email from the managing editor. She said she'd get back to me when they made their decision.

In the meantime, I got a rejection from another publisher, but I'm ok with that. I still have the full MS out, and if that one doesn't work, I'll keep trying.

On the Supermarket front, I got an email recently from my publisher at Night who said that after the release of six great books within the next few weeks, my book was next. Yay! I'm very excited. It feels like this process has taken so long, but really it hasn't. I just started writing my Supermarket book in January 2010, and I queried Night Publishing in July. I was accepted right after, and the book will be released before the end of the year. That's really fast as far as these things go. I've heard of authors waiting a year, or even two, before they see their work in print. Still, I'm impatient! I'm hoping the book will be out prior to December 1, because my book tour is still on for the first weekend in December. I'll be heading down to the Outer Banks to do some meeting and greeting and book promotion.

I have started, and scrapped a few books recently. I didn't seem to have any ideas that would actually flow into a full MS. But, I started something last night at about 2:30 in the morning that seems to be turning into a manuscript. I seem to keep wandering back to the Outer Banks, and this new book is set in Duck, a charming little town south of Corolla that houses year-long residents as well as tourists.

Meet Emma. She's a twenty-one year-old senator's daughter who gets caught up in a scheme between the senator and a natural gas baron. The two men pledge their children into an arranged marriage for business purposes. Gray Taylor is rude, ruthless, and devastatingly handsome. Emma detests him and refuses to accept him as her husband.
Her parents refuse to allow her to back out and send her to the Outer Banks for a three month vacation before the wedding. On her first day at the seashore, she meets Reese McConnell, and she has an idea. Her parents can't force her to marry Gray if she's married to someone else, can they?

Emma has only three months to win Reese's love. Will she succeed, or will she be forced to marry a man she detests? Unexpected complications arise and threaten the happiness of everyone involved.

I'm about six thousand words into this MS and it is showing some promise. Emma isn't a likeable character at first, so I don't expect a lot of sympathy for her from the readers. But, people can change, and I hope to portray Emma's evolution from a spoiled little girl to a woman with real needs and desires. Can she stand up to her parents and be free from her obligation? Will she fall in love with Reese? Will she marry Gray? Only time will tell!

full MS request!

2010-09-21T07:29:00.001-04:00

I got an email yesterday from one of the publishers I submitted to. They want my full MS!!! I sat up for about five hours last night working on it, just to give it a last once-over before I hit the send button. It's a good thing I did because I found one or two misspellings, and I changed some stuff around. I think I'm actually happy with the book, finally. So, I sent the email with the full MS attached, and now it's back to waiting. Have I mentioned that I hate waiting? But, maybe it'll pay off and they'll like my stuff. Who knows? At least I passed the first round, right?

Still hoping for some news on Supermarket. I can't wait to see it in print!!! Soon, I'm told. So, I'll just have to continue to be patient.

I bought two books from my fellow Night Publishing authors and I was most impressd with the quality of both books. They were great! I'd recommend Descending by Catherine Chisnall and Spoilt by Joanne Ellis any day.

out on submission

2010-09-08T22:14:00.000-04:00

I have Hooking Up out to six or so publishers right now. No word except for one quick rejection. This is so nerve-wracking! The submission process is a bear. Really, it's harder than writing the book. I think it's the pressure that really makes it tough. The query/synopsis/blurb is much harder to write because it's usually the only piece of work you are allowed to show the potential agent/publisher, and in some cases, the only work that you will be judged on. What a small percentage of writing, but what weight it carries!
At this point, I'd be happy with a full MS request. I'd be happy to hear something, anything. External validation for a full eight months of work is a good thing.

As far as Supermarket goes, I was told back in July that editing would begin sometime in September. So, I'm very excited because guess what--it's September! Still no word from my editor or my publisher, but I assume I'll hear something soon. The anticipated release is sometime in October. I am so excited! I have been trying very hard to be patient and not bother anyone over at Night Publishing. Anyone who knows me knows that patience is not one of my strong suits. I just really want to get the ball rolling.

I have been tossing around some ideas for another book, including a fun story about a fifty year-old woman who wants to find love, much to the chagrin of her sister and her pastor. I have a solid start to the first chapter, but I hate the later parts of what I've written so I'm shelving it a while to let the ideas brew. I think I'm forcing things, and I am not feeling at my most creative right now. As a matter of fact, I'm feeling slightly burned out. After all, I'm married with three kids, I have a full-time job, a part-time DJ job, my college studies (9 credit hours this semester), my band, and my writing. It's really no wonder my laundry isn't getting done. So, my dust bunnies have dust bunny babies who are multiplying like, well--bunnies. I swear, everything will work out. I'm just tired.

In any event, things are busy and crazy, but I'm not sure I know how to go any other speed. I should be proud. I wrote two books this year. Two. Holy crap. And if I get my mojo back with my new story and get the feel I want, it might be three. We'll see. I'd better not push it. And if you've seen my mojo lying around anywhere, could you please direct it back home?

Jess

book covers

2010-08-31T18:24:00.001-04:00

Well, it was suggested that I post both book covers so you can get a good idea of what they'll look like with borders so they aren't lost in the blog background. Here they are!

Keep your fingers crossed!

2010-08-27T10:22:00.000-04:00

Well, I submitted Hooking Up to three different publishers. Two of the houses are big ones, and one is an e-publisher who looked quite promising. I am excited! Now for the fun part...the wait. Yes, this is the part that kills me. Will they like my query? The partial MS I submitted? Will they enjoy my writing, or will they tell me it's crap? Oh, lordy, this is rough. I hate waiting.

I also hate rejection, but I am realistic about things. Will I be a famous best-seller one day? No. Will I make millions with my writing? No. But, I am having fun fulfilling a dream. We'll see what happens! Keep fingers, toes, arms, legs, and anything else you can think of crossed. Even an MS request would be welcome at this stage in the game!

I'm also thinking about looking for an agent. That process is just as nerve-wracking. I will see what happens with the publishers first, and go from there. If I can get an offer unagented, I'll take it!!!

Jess

Hot, Hot, Hot!

2010-08-22T19:02:00.001-04:00

This is the new book cover I designed for Hooking Up. What do you think? I am working dilligently on edits, and I have made some great progress. Without further ado, here is Chapter 3. Warning-content is NOT suitable for kids under 18!

Chapter 3
After another rough night of missing Michael, I decided to call my grandmother. Not for support, really, but because I thought I should. She raised me after my parents died, but she didn’t like it, and she normally never liked the choices I made. Actually, there wasn’t much about me that she liked. Period. Surprisingly, however, Gran had always liked Michael. I had been dreading telling her that he dumped me ever since it happened. I knew she would blame me somehow. I settled myself on my bed and took a deep breath. I sighed and dialed.

Her cultured voice sounded slightly irritated when she answered the phone. I glanced at the clock and groaned to myself. 6:30? Great—right in the middle of her nightly news program. Gran hated to be interrupted during her TV shows. Strike one.

“Hi, Gran. It’s me. How are you?”

“Fine, Caitlin. Just watching the news. What are you doing?”

“Nothing, really. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Yes, she was irritated. And she was already making me feel like a wayward child instead of a twenty-eight year old woman.

“Yes, sorry. Listen, I just wanted to tell you that Michael and I aren’t together anymore. He moved out a few days ago.”

“What? Whatever for? What did you do?”

Unfortunately, that was a typical question from my Gran. No matter what, she had something negative to say, and she tended to blame me for whatever she could contrive. I always had suspicions that she even blamed me for my parents’ death, although I was ten at the time. I guess I shouldn’t have expected any less. Still, it hurt.

“Gran, it wasn’t like that. We just grew apart. He decided he needed his space, so I let him go. End of story. Nothing happened, and I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you must have done something. Nice boys just don’t walk away and leave their girlfriends of ten years. Did you ask him what you did to make him want to leave?”

“Yes, Gran. I did. He said that he didn’t like the way I made toast in the morning. So, he left. There—happy now?” Strike two. Catie, don’t lose your cool, I admonished myself. But some things just don’t change, and I could feel the age-old fight brewing.

“Well, you don’t have to be rude. I’m just saying that you should really look inside yourself to figure out why he would want to leave you. Then fix it so you can get him back.”

“Ok, Gran. I’ll do that. And while I’m at it, I’ll look into that whole global warming thing. Maybe, since I’m directly responsible for the core temperature of the earth rising, I’ll find a way to fix that, too. What do you think?”

“You know, with that attitude, you sound just like your father. I swear you act more and more like him every day. I don’t appreciate your sarcasm when I’m simply trying to help. I don’t see why you have to fling my advice back into my face when I’m just being supportive. It’s not nice, you know, and I raised you better than that.” Strike three. The guilt trip. I had to hang up or I’d end up screaming at her.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your show. Sorry to bother you.”

“Ok, dear. I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up the phone and I flopped back onto my bed. I sighed in exasperation. As frenetic as my life was at this moment, some things never changed.

Things had always been this way between me and my grandmother. When I was younger, she’d try everything she could to control me and mold me into what she thought I should be. I was admonished constantly to suck my stomach in, wear more mascara, and dress more like a girl. She wanted me to be a ballerina and refused to attend my karate tournaments because she thought it was too unladylike. She constantly criticized what I did and blamed my dad for making me into a boy. According to her, no matter what I did, I could never do things right. It always had seemed to me that she merely tolerated me, not loved me, and her heavy-handed gruffness always left me feeling cold, lonely, and unwanted.

The very week we graduated from high school, Michael and I signed a lease on an apartment across town, just to get away from her. I could only handle her and her sharp tongue with its pointed barbs in small doses. I compared our relationship to the lab rat experiments that scientists used to perform. After a while, the rat won’t grab the cheese if they get electrocuted enough. I was the rat, and Gran was the Muenster. I was sick of getting stung. As a result of her constant criticism, I rarely went to see my Gran anymore. I wasn’t sure why I had even called her for support; she had never given any. I blamed myself for expecting something different. Sighing, I boosted myself of the bed and headed for the kitchen. There was a pint of Chunky Monkey with my name all over it.

Over the next two months, I concentrated on being happy single. I, Caitlin Paige Edison, was unattached and proud. I was independent and strong. I didn’t need a man to complete me. I was intelligent, beautiful, and competent. I went through the motions of being a confident single woman every day, never acknowledging that I was missing something. I didn’t call my grandmother, and when she finally remembered that she had a granddaughter and tried to call me, I contrived countless excuses to avoid lengthy conversations with her. I couldn’t handle any more blows to my already fragile self-esteem. So, for all she knew, I was out and about constantly, filling my day with so many activities that I barely had a moment. In truth, I went to work, came home, cooked for one or ordered a small takeout meal, and burrowed in my apartment like a mole. I stopped going out with my girls because they gave me pitying looks and tried to set me up with guys they knew. I wasn’t interested. I was far too busy finding myself. They eventually quit trying to set me up, and I was glad. I just wanted to be alone.

But something was missing, and the shit hit the fan one day in February—February fourteenth, to be exact.

I woke up grumpy, but I didn’t know why. I honestly didn’t even realize what day it was until I glanced at the calendar hanging innocuously on the fridge. It was Valentine’s Day, and I was alone. My Lucky Charms weren’t sweet enough to take the bitter taste of being alone on a lover’s holiday off the tip of my tongue. I was alone. Michael had always done something for me on Valentine’s Day, and he never even needed prompting. He usually brought me flowers and chocolates and took me to dinner, and I realized with a start that there was nothing awaiting me today. No surprise deliveries, no sweet treats, no paid-for romantic repasts. There was just an empty apartment, an empty datebook, and me, empty inside.

Did Michael really mean that much, or was it just the relationship that mattered? I wondered what he was doing, and briefly thought about calling him. My hand hovered over the phone, but after a second, I dropped it to my side in a fit of temper. Sometimes I disgusted myself. I had to let him go.

But I missed all the courting rituals, the sweet foreplay that preceded romantic sex. I missed having a man.

Throughout the day, my mind was not on my work. My job as a pediatric physical therapist was usually rewarding, but today all I could think of was my own form of therapy. I felt the need for contact as sharply as I would feel a needle in my side. It poked at me all day, bruising and piercing my tender flesh. I needed a connection badly. I recalled what Heidi suggested, and suddenly, it didn’t sound so ludicrous.
After work, I drove by the fancy restaurants that Michael used to take me to. They were all crowded with couples. I stopped my car outside my favorite, Les Deux, and gazed into the windows. The happy couples seated inside looked blissful. Though I couldn’t hear the conversations, I knew how they went: ”I love you. I love you more.”

I hurried back to my car in shame. What was wrong with me? Had I really pressed my face against the glass of a restaurant and imagined myself among the happy couples?

When I got back to my apartment, I was struck again by Heidi’s words. Why not find someone to ease the pain with? Who said that I had to be in love with the guy I was sleeping with? Maybe a good roll was all I needed to make me less lonely. After all, I was an adult. I had needs, and I was prepared to deal with the consequences of my actions. I was willing to try anything that would take away the ache that had become a burning pyre inside my body. Something was seriously missing, and I aimed to find it.

Having decided to launch a full-scale manhunt, I dressed with care. I wanted to accentuate my long legs and my slim waist. A black tank-dress suited my mood well. Underneath, I wore a lacy black thong and a push-up bra.

I fussed with my dark hair, finally letting it sweep over my shoulders naturally. I could never do anything with it anyway. I applied my makeup carefully, accenting my deep violet eyes. Finally, I spritzed on Red Door, my favorite perfume. It always made me feel very powerful and sexy. I slid my feet into ankle-breaking stilettos and perused myself in my full-length mirror. I was ready. For what, I didn’t know.

I drove around town aimlessly. I didn’t know who or what I was looking for. All I knew is that there was someone out there who would fall for my charms, and I would take advantage of him. I didn’t exactly feel good about that, but I didn’t feel good about staying home and crying my lonely self to sleep either. Which was the lesser of two evils? I had no idea.

I pulled up alongside a decent-looking bar called The Wave. It was well-lit and meticulously maintained. There were no creepy-looking drunks hanging around outside. Instead, the storefront featured flashing neon signs advertising Bud and Miller and curtains hung in the front windows. How bad could a guy be in such a place, I wondered, and parked my car.

I ventured inside slowly, glancing left then right casually, but with the full-alertness of a veteran karate brown-belt. I would know what I was getting myself into. I didn’t see any amazing guys straight-off. Rather, they seemed to all blend in to one big pool of potential. A few glanced in my direction and quickly looked away, almost as though they were afraid of offending me. On the one night I wanted to be noticed, guys were being respectful? What—no catcalls, wolf-whistles, or rude gestures? It was almost laughable, but I didn’t feel like laughing.

I found a small table adjacent to the bar and sat with my back to the wall. I debated leaving after about five minutes, but I have never been one to run away from anything. I had always faced my problems and my attackers with equal zest. I would win this night, no matter what it took.

I placed an order with the roving waitress for a vodka martini. I wanted to appear confident, in-control, and sexy, and I knew of no other drink that would allow me to look that way. The vodka martini was a symbol. It said, “Come get me boys—I’m all yours.”

When I received my drink, I sipped it slowly and gazed over the rim at the individual tables where patrons of all shapes and sizes sat, engaged in earnest drinking or earnest conversation. There were a few really hot guys at some of the tables, but the numbers intimidated me. I didn’t feel like separating a guy from his bunch of buddies. I allowed my gaze to wander further, and I was rewarded with the sight of a lone man sitting in the corner of the room, nursing a beer with a thoughtful look on his face. He was tall, judging by the way he filled out the stool, his knees bent and his feet resting on the lowermost rung of the barstool, and his short dark hair was carelessly styled. He had dark eyes, too, and an olive complexion. He was alone.

I always liked tall, dark, and handsome. Michael had been an odd choice for me, having both blond hair and blue eyes, but I never really minded. Now, my mouth watered in anticipation. I couldn’t believe my own reaction to a stranger, but the pull was gravitational.

I eased myself off my barstool and carried my drink over to his table. I lowered my eyelids, peered at him with a smoky gaze, and said, “Do you mind if I join you?”
He looked up at me, startled, then said in a mellow voice, “Sure. Help yourself.”
I slid into the seat across from him, toyed with the stem of my glass and asked, “Do you come here often?” I couldn’t believe such drivel had escaped my lips, but he didn’t seem to notice the tired come-on.

“No, first time. You?” His voice was pleasant, deep, and seductive. I felt myself getting antsy. I wanted to grab his hand and lead him out the door. The want was excruciating.

“First time for me, too. Do you believe in fate?” I asked him in a husky voice, my violet eyes probing his black ones.

He colored, and said, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Someone loaded the jukebox and music started playing. It was slow and sweet. He cleared his throat and asked, “Would you like to dance?”

I nodded and he took my hand, leading me gently to the center of the room to the makeshift dance floor. He wrapped his arms around my waist; the contact was so sweet that I wanted to moan. It had been too long. It felt so good to be held. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that we were a couple, and this wasn’t just a chance meeting in a bar. Maybe imagining things that way would make this blatant seduction easier. I wound my arms around his neck and moved closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He smelled edible. I melted into him and tried to make my intentions clear.

He murmured something unintelligible and pulled me even closer. He must have understood. The music wrapped us in a sensual melody. The drums and the bass throbbed, and as they did, so did I.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Caitlin. What’s yours?” I asked him.

“Ryan,” he answered, squeezing me once. I groaned and nuzzled his neck. The way he smelled should be illegal. It was like a drug, drawing me closer, addicting me, and making me crave things that I probably shouldn’t. Out-of-character things.

When the dance ended, he made as if to release me. I wouldn’t allow it. I kept my arms wrapped around his neck, and tilted my head up to his. I brushed my lips against his check and asked him, “Do you want to get out of here?”

I was amazed at how easy it was to be wanton. The way that I felt right now was anything but innocent, and I couldn’t believe it was actually me, there with him, doing things no good girl ever does. But tonight, all thoughts of good and bad flew out of my head. I was going with my instincts. I needed this like a parched traveler needed water, like an addict needed her drug of choice.

He nodded to me and grabbed my hand. We raced outside but paused on the sidewalk outside the bar. The dilemma became obvious: What did we do now? Rent a hotel room? I only had twenty bucks on me. Did I dare go to his place? After all, I didn’t know him, although I would shortly. The need was unbearable; I made my decision.

“My place is nearby,” I told him, grinding against him sensuously. He nodded again and I led him to my car.

I drove home quickly, very aware of the stranger’s hand rubbing my thigh gently. There was no way I should be doing this right now, but I didn’t care. I had to fill the emptiness somehow, and there was no turning back.

I parked and he came around to my side of the car to open my door for me. He lifted me out of the car and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me toward him. He backed me up against the side of my car and flattened his hips against me, arms winding around my midsection, his hands sliding up and down my back in a titillating rhythm. His lips found mine, and there was nothing innocent or shy about them. The pressure of his lips on mine was seductive, maddening. Simultaneously, we moaned and his fingers threaded through my hair, pulling a little as he directed my head to put my mouth where he wanted it. He deepened this kiss quickly, his tongue tangling with mine in a full-out erotic caress that was mind-blowing. I was lost immediately. The kiss continued for about a minute until I realized where we were and what we were doing.

I made a little desperate sound in my throat and broke the kiss urgently. I shoved at him so I could move, grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs toward my apartment door. I fumbled with the lock as his hand fumbled with my dress and I practically yanked him inside.

Even after so many years with Michael, I had never felt this level of passion with him, but this dark stranger incited fires in my bloodstream. He stroked my shoulders, my sides, my waist, finally moving his hands up to caress my breasts through my dress. I moaned again and pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders. He shoved the dress down to my waist and bent to press warm, wet kisses onto my neck and the curve of my bosom. My hands tangled in his hair and I guided his mouth where I wanted it to go. His arms encircled me and I felt his hands struggle with my bra as he tried to unbuckle it. He succeeded, and when my breasts were free, he groaned and feasted on them. I undid the buttons on his shirt and ran my hands down the smooth, solid warmth of his chest. He was firmly muscled and lean, and taller than me, which was a bonus. As he nuzzled me senseless, I attached my lips first to his neck and then to his ear and drew forth little groans of delight from my lover. Our clothes seemed to fall off like magic.

I led him to my bedroom and pushed him down onto the bed. I stretched out on top of him and marveled at the solid warmth beneath me. He rolled us over and shifted so that he was nestled between my thighs. He ravished my neck, my ear, my shoulder, then lower, lower. I gasped recklessly, completely lost in passion. When he entered me, I arched and moaned like I was being electrocuted. The feeling was stunningly electric. As he moved, he murmured soft words in my ear, his breath warming my neck and sending shivers up and down my spine. His voice was just as erotic as the motion of our entangled bodies. Within minutes, he had me screaming.

For the next two hours, we enjoyed each other. We gorged ourselves on the other’s skin, drowning in the smell, the feel, the taste of each other. Finally, we lay exhausted and satisfied in each other’s arms. I snuggled against his side and sighed, feeling very sated and sleepy, but with a jolt, I realized that I had a problem. How did I get rid of him?

Let the games begin!

2010-08-14T23:14:00.000-04:00

It's off to the races! The revision races, that is. Editing is going well thus far. I have gotten to chapter 11, and although this is just the first pass through, it's working. I expanded some scenes and refined some others. Now my word count is at 50,500. This is actually good for me. My work tends to be spare in the word-count department. I guess I write in a short-and-sweet fashion. I really admire those lit-fic types who can bang out 90,000 without breaking a sweat. More power to you!

I'm also proud. When I take a moment to reflect on what I have accomplished over the past eight months, I am amazed. I wrote two books! And started a third. That is huge, especially considering everything else I have going on in my life.

I wonder if I would have been able to do this without the amazing motivation I had. You see, my husband was laid off from his job a year and four months ago, and my paycheck was really the only one that paid the bills. It was rough, to say the least. We tried everything we could think of to supplement our income, but times were still quite tough. I had always dabbled in writing, but I had never had the time, patience, or energy to complete anything. All of the other stuff I tried was terrible. I gave up on it soon after I started. But I had a burning desire to write, to tell a story that other people would like to hear. I also had a lot of encouragement from my wonderful college english teacher and my amazing husband. One day, I had an idea, and my husband gave me a deadline. We really thought that writing a book would be a great way to make money. And how cool would it be to be a published author?

So, I bought a netbook and started writing. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I drove my family nuts when they'd try to talk to me and I'd be lost in my story. And they drove me nuts when I was lost in the story and they'd try to interact with me. I can't tell you how many times I lost my train of thought! But it worked, and I actually wrote a book.

What surprised me after I wrote my book and started to look for an outlet for my writing was the competition out there. I always knew that there were many, many poor souls like me out there who thought for sure that they'd written the next big novel. But it wasn't until I joined Authonomy that I really came into contact with any of them. And the competition was fierce! There are so many talented authors out there, all with dreams of their own. Turns out, I'm not so different after all.

I met some terrific people and read some great writing. I learned to lean on my friends in the writing community and trust their advice. I got some praise and some criticism. And I wouldn't trade one minute of any of it.

I have learned so much. I have made some wonderful online friends. I am thankful for each and every person who took the time to look at my work and tell me their honest opinion. I am truly amazed by the generosity of practical strangers.

I have been deeply affected by my family's hardships. I have learned not to take anything for granted. I know now the depth of my love for my family and how much they all mean to me. We survived a long-term layoff together and we have rallied back, stronger than ever.

My husband now has his job back, and things will start to get better. But I'll continue to write. I have found something within myself that needs to keep writing. And after the first book, the first hurdle, it is getting easier. If I can keep going, who knows what I'll accomplish? My first-ever completed novel is scheduled to be published by Night Publishing in October. I'll be querying my second book as soon as my edits are done. My cup truly runneth over.

I am content, and I know now why my family has been tested. I have discovered within myself a propensity for the written word, and I don't think I would have been nearly as motivated without strife. They say that things happen for a reason. I believe it. And I am living proof that dreams,no matter how common or seemingly unreachable, actually can come true.

Jess

I did it!

2010-08-08T03:21:00.000-04:00

I am pleased to announce that I have finished the first draft of Hooking Up! I have been working on this book since March, and I finally got the whole first draft, from start to finish, on paper. Oh, I feel so good! The first draft of this manuscript weighs in at 49,650 words. With editing, it may end up being more or less. Only time will tell....
This one has been a real bear for me. I changed the backstory four times, finally getting it right tonight, when I wrote about 6,000 words. I was, as they say, on a roll.
It is now 3:23 am. I am going to go to bed and relish my success for the night. Come morning, I'll have editing to do. Ugh. Editing.

Jess

New, Improved Book Cover

2010-08-04T21:10:00.001-04:00

Here it is!

My saint of a sister-in-law updated the cover and I love it!!! She is absolutely amazing. Thanks, Teresa!

And, without further ado, here is a teaser of this book! This is the first chapter. I hope you like it!

Chapter 1

For a single woman, there is no lonelier household chore than grocery shopping. Packages don’t come in “for one” sizes. They come in larger-than-life sizes designed to keep a family of four stocked up for a solid week. What does the frugal single do with family-sized portions of food that will spoil before she gets to them?

As I trudged down aisle after aisle of economy-sized products in my local Grocery King Supermarket by myself, pushed my too-empty cart and struggled to look as though I wanted to buy the reduced-fat versions of my favorite foods, in bulk, no less, I had an epiphany. I bet lonely men shopped at grocery stores, too. Maybe across the store, there was a tall, dark, handsome hunk filling up his cart with reduced-fat cookies and low-cal Italian dressing, sighing to himself as he loaded up on the family pack of toilet paper. How hard would it be to find him, three aisles away?

I never thought that I would be reduced to picking up a man at the Grocery King. I mean, I’m not that unattractive. I am thirty-two years old and I have medium-length blonde hair and hazel-green eyes. I am about five pounds overweight, but I’ve been told that’s part of my charm. I have a quick smile, a contagious laugh, and a very dry sense of humor. I have all of my teeth, most of my brain, and some common sense. I don’t have a crazy ex-boyfriend named Roy who still breaks things when he thinks of me, and I don’t have a collection of cats that lounge around my apartment. I have a job, a car, no kids, and a 401K. So, what was the problem?

I think the dry sense of humor coupled with the absolute lack of fear of doing odd things in public can get me in trouble. But today, when I had my epiphany in aisle four, it didn’t feel like such a bad idea. I had heard of people meeting at the laundromat, for example, falling in love, and getting married next to the vending machines. At least their reception smelled like fabric softener.

So, on that day, I was struck with a brilliant idea. I would find a nice guy at the Grocery King where I live in Corolla, North Carolina, fall in love discussing brie, and get married in the produce section, which happens to be quite nice at the Grocery King. Simple, right?

Outer Banks Cool!

2010-08-02T23:05:00.000-04:00

My upcoming book, How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket, has been mentioned in a great Outer Banks Blog/Website! I am very excited and flattered. Check it out!

Outer Banks Revealed, Jess's blurb

Just scroll down and you'll see my blurb and the nice comment the blog author made. I love this! The Outer Banks is such an inspiring, amazing place, and I have had nothing but good experiences with the people attached to it. I would highly recommend a visit to one of my favorite vacation destinations!

Updates:

Teresa, my amazing sister-in-law, is hard at work designing my back cover and possibly the inside cover of my book (if we can do it that way), and I can't wait to see it! She designed the front cover for me, and I think she did a terrific job.

To be able to hold my book in my hands, in paperback form, will be the thrill of a lifetime. I liken this experience to giving birth, although with the drugs, having my two children was actually not as difficult! Writing a book and breathing life into fictional characters is amazing--like raising children. You know what you want for their future, and it is your job as mother or writer to mold your creations. It is a humbling experience.

Hooking Up is moving along. I have 102 pages of manuscript, with an anticipated 30 to go before the first draft is finished. Then comes editing. Oh great. I love editing. Insert sarcasm here.

Hope to have some more updates or at the very least some cover art soon. In the meantime, I'll work on Hooking Up and maybe even post another chapter. We'll see. Keep 'em guessing, I always say.

Jess

What do you think?

2010-07-29T00:12:00.000-04:00

My fabulous sister-in-law designed this book cover for my soon-to-be-published novel, How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket. What do you think?

First two chapters of Hooking Up

2010-07-24T11:36:00.000-04:00

I thought I'd let you guys get a sneak preview of Hooking Up. I have been working on this one for a few months now, but just recently got back into it with a vengeance. Part of my problem was that I knew how I wanted to start, and I knew how I wanted to finish, but the elusive middle was killing me! I think I have a much better grasp on things now, and just recently made a decision to change things further. Here are the first two chapters. I hope you enjoy them!

Hooking Up
By Jessica L. Degarmo
Chapter 1

It all started the night my two best friends, Kelly, Heidi, and I went to our favorite hole-in the-wall bar downtown. We had all dressed for the occasion: Kelly wore a slinky mini-dress in blazing blue that accentuated her big blue eyes and summer-blonde hair, Heidi wore black in the form of a skin-tight leather bodysuit, showing off her siren red hair, lush curves and her humongous breasts, and I strutted my stuff in a red tube dress and hooker-height heels. My dark, wavy hair hung loose down my shoulders and as I moved, it swung with the same rhythm as my hips. We walked into the bar filled with cigarette-smoke ribboned air and pranced over to our regular table, past the leering old men and the scarred jukebox. The neon “Beer” sign that hung over the bar blinked at one end; the other had burned out long ago.
We sat and played Rock, Paper, Scissors, to see who would buy the first round. Heidi lost, and she grumbled under her breath as she headed to the bar to order us all screwdrivers.
Kelly and I surveyed the regular crowd and found nothing of interest whatsoever. The same tired old men huddled at their tables or at the bar, hunched over their mugs of ale and squinting in the dim light. We sighed in unison. Nothing fresh to look at tonight.
It was Kelly’s idea to come to the bar anyway. She had just lost her job and she wanted a pick-me-up. I supposed that losing a topless dancing job would be heartbreaking to someone with her epic proportions and propensity for wiggling and jiggling. She seemed sultry even sitting still, elbows propped on the table, her face in her hands. She was good at her job, but she had just been replaced with a younger model. She griped now as we waited for our vodka-laced orange juice.
“But I was so much better than that young little upstart. Her boobs aren’t even real!” she groaned, shaking her head in misery. “I had a much better routine that she did. All she did was twirl around a pole. I even had props, a real experience.”
Her routine consisted of a rubber chicken, a farm-girl look complete with a straw hat, Daisy Dukes, a red-and-white checked button down shirt that was tied around her midriff (while it was on), and a painfully affected Southern drawl. I’m not going to mention what she did with the chicken. It was nice to have ambition, however, and I sympathized with my friend.
“She’ll probably waste away after the first month, and then they’ll call you and beg you to come back. Besides, you’re too good for them. What about the place over town? Boobz N’ Booze?” I asked, rubbing her back through the tight leather. She sighed heavily.
“I already tried. They said they were full, but they’d call if something came up. What am I going to do? How am I going to pay for school if I don’t have a job?” she wailed. It just goes to show you that looks aren’t everything. Besides having a bodacious bod, Kelly was a whiz. She was smarter than anyone else I knew, and she had wanted to be a lawyer for as long as I’d known her. She had been putting herself through law school, and she was only a year away from graduating. I knew she’d find a way to make things work for her, but until then, she was entitled to a little bit of self-pity. By tomorrow, she’d be up and scheming again.
Heidi came back with our drinks, and she plunked them down on the table with enthusiasm. She beamed at us and said, “Drink up! I got these ones for free!”
“How did you manage that?” I asked sarcastically. The way she looked tonight, I was surprised that we didn’t have men lined up to buy us liquor. But, the night was still young.
“Silly Caitlin, I just asked nicely,” she purred, using her come-hither voice. She was twenty-three, the youngest of our trio, and still a virgin. She came from good, wholesome stock who sheltered her, and when she came to the city from her tiny hometown in Illinois, she did everything she could to be a rebel. Unfortunately, feeding the homeless and volunteering at church didn’t necessarily help her bad-girl image. How she became friends with Kelly and me remained a mystery, but we wouldn’t trade her tender heart and sweet sensibilities for the world.
“Cheers!” we all chimed in unison, raising our drinks and knocking our glasses together.
“To having options!” I toasted, trying to make Kelly feel better. I did feel bad for her, but I was having issues of my own, and I was a little distracted.
I had just broken up with Michael, my boyfriend of ten years. It wasn’t a fight or a sudden explosive episode that had prompted the break-up; rather it was a gradual parting of ways that had started probably two years ago. Michael and I just drifted apart as slowly as the continents, until at last we were oceans apart. Michael was a great guy, but apparently, I didn’t really do it for him anymore. He compared the relationship we had to an old sweatshirt: It fit and it was comfortable, but full of holes and stains. Eventually, as much as you liked the sweatshirt, it was time to get rid of it and buy a new spring wardrobe. So, he had shucked me off like he shucked off his winter clothes, and he was ready to start over. He had told me just last week, and by then, he had already signed a lease on a new apartment. He was moving out at that very minute, leaving me behind, stunned and broken.
So, here I was, single for the first time, well, ever. I had been in a relationship for so long that I had no idea what was supposed to happen now. I had forgotten how to date. Michael had known all there was to know about me, and the thought of having to go through that awkward first-date, that weird getting-to-know-you phase had me thoroughly disgruntled.
And why did I need another relationship anyway? I had just gotten out of one that had become stale and boring. Why do the same thing over again? Wasn’t the definition of insanity something about doing the same thing over again and expecting different results? Was I truly insane? I may have been, because I felt abandoned. It was a feeling that I hadn’t had since my parents died eighteen years ago. And why would I have? I had Michael, my rock, my port in the storm. Now there was no one, and I was alone again. I felt like there was a crater inside my chest, and Michael’s absence was excruciating. I needed this night with my girls as much as Kelly did.
“Catie, where were you just a minute ago? You seemed miles away,” Heidi said, gently shaking my arm. I pulled myself back into their conversation, and realized that neither of them knew that Michael and I ended things.
“I forgot to tell you something,” I said, looking at both of them sheepishly.
“What?” Kelly asked, her smooth brow rumpling a little as she looked at me.
“So, tell us now, “ Heidi urged.
I took a deep breath. “It’s over between Michael and me. He signed a lease on an apartment on the East side, and he’s moving out as we speak.”
They both gasped and shrieked at the same time.
“What?” Heidi yelled. “Why didn’t you say something earlier, you moron!”
“Well, that trumps me losing my job! What the hell?” Kelly hollered.
I shushed them both quickly. The old men at the bar were starting to stare. “I just forgot, that's all. Sorry.”
They both looked at me like I was crazy. “How could you forget that you just broke up with your boyfriend?” Heidi accused skeptically. “This is big. How do you feel?”
‘I’m fine. It’s not a big deal, really. This has been coming for a long time, guys,” I told them, shrugging my shoulders, hiding the pain under a guise of nonchalance. “No problems. Just done and over with.”
“But how?” said Kelly, concerned now. This was the first she had heard of any problems between Michael and me. I was good at keeping my private life private. Even though Kelly and Heidi were my best friends, I didn’t tell them everything. A girl needed to keep some things to herself. I had never been one for girl-talk, and I certainly didn’t want them to know that I was such a loser that I couldn’t keep a man.
“It just happened. These things do. It was time for both of us to move on. So now, I’m a free agent.” A free agent? What does that even mean? I was resorting to pulling out sports analogies? Great.
“You know what you need?” Heidi, our innocent friend said. “You need a hook-up.”
Kelly choked on her drink and I gaped, my jaw falling almost to the floor. I pounded Kelly on the back to help her stop choking and silently repeated Heidi’s completely unexpected idea. A hook-up?

Chapter 2

Kelly recovered first. “Ok, explain yourself,” she demanded, wiping her mouth with her napkin and giggling.
“It’s simple. You just got out of a serious relationship, so now you need to have a hook-up to get over Michael and move on.” Heidi looked proud of herself. “I read it in Cosmo.”
I burst into laughter. “How do you propose that I hook up?” Something like this coming from Heidi was like hearing Santa Claus swearing—it was so completely out of character.
"Well, you find a cute guy, go up to him and ask him to sleep with you, and then you do it.” She was actually serious. Heidi, pure as the driven snow and destined to remain that way until she tied the knot with some good, corn-fed boy, was serious about me finding a random guy to have sex with.
Kelly must have had the same thought I did because she started laughing so hard she snorted. Eventually, she caught her breath, rolled her eyes and said to Heidi, “Where is she supposed to meet this cute guy? And what about disease and creepy stalkers and pregnancy?"
“Well, use a condom, hook up in a neutral place, and make sure to take the morning-after-pill. That’s what Cosmo says,” Heidi said indignantly.
I didn’t know what to say. A hook-up? With some random guy? How does one even begin to prepare for that, much less do it? What would I do—just walk up to some random guy, say, “Hey, Baby, are you looking for a good time?” and run off to the parking lot and do it in a car? How yucky. I shrugged off the thought and concentrated instead on my screwdriver.
“Heidi, you wild woman, I think I’ll pass. But thanks,” I said, giving her a one-armed hug.
Kelly and Heidi laughed in unison, and we all pounded our drinks. It was really just what I needed, and I felt myself relaxing from more than just the alcohol. I had my two best friends in the world, our familiar home pub, and the men were starting to line up to liquor us up. What more did a girl need?
I watched my two best friends get silly on screwdrivers and flirt with the old men at the bar, and I helped them to the restroom when they needed to go. Neither of my girls could hold their liquor, and as always, I ended up taking care of them, not that I minded. I had always been more level-headed than Kelly and earthier than Heidi. We danced to the corny ‘80s music wafting from the jukebox and giggled when the old men tried to keep up. Life was actually good. I felt good. As long as I didn’t dwell on my empty apartment, my empty bed, my empty heart.
By midnight, both girls were sloppy, and I peeled them off of their barstools and called them a cab. I walked home, relishing the crisp evening air on my overheated skin. I wasn’t worried about anyone bothering me. Although I was a willowy, trim 5’7” and 120 lbs., I had always been able to take care of myself. I had earned a brown belt in Karate and felt confident that I could handle an attacker. Besides, I had lived in this town my whole life, and the only exciting thing that had happened in my twenty-eight years was when the old pavilion in the outskirts of town had been burned to the ground by some local hoodlums.
Letting myself into a dark apartment was new. Michael’s things had been moved out already, and the place looked bare and sterile. The furnishings that were left seemed forlorn and miniscule in the large space. I threw my purse on the kitchen counter, flicked on the light to the living room in passing, and kicked my shoes off. I left them on the rug, shiny mementos of a happy time, and headed to my bedroom. At least I still had my bed. Michael had taken our couch and left me with only an armchair and a single end table. The rest of the furniture, including the TV and the entertainment stand, had been moved to the apartment on the East side.
As I slid out of my dress and hung it up in the now half-empty closet, I thought of Michael. How was he doing? Did he miss me? Did I miss him?
I did. There was something unsettling about coming home to a quiet place. Michael was heavily into sports and music, and he always had the volume on the TV or the stereo cranked when he was home. I had come home from work and gotten a headache simply by walking inside the apartment more than once over the past ten years. But at least someone was there. The place was silent now, and for once I had room to think, to rest, to just be. It was a somber change, and an unwelcome one.
I crawled into bed and buried my head in his pillow, inhaling deeply. He always wore the nicest cologne. I wondered why he hadn’t taken his pillow. Maybe he had bought new ones. Maybe he didn’t want to chance smelling my perfume in his dreams. Maybe he was trying to erase any evidence that I had ever been present in his bed. I wouldn’t blame him. Ten years was a long time to spend with someone, and since we had ended it, the time seemed somehow wasted.
I got up and stripped the sheets from the bed. I rummaged through the closet until I found a new, scent-free set, and remade the bed. Crawling in again, I sniffed. Satisfied that there was no longer a trace of Michael in the bed, I sighed and fell asleep.
The next morning was equally quiet. I didn’t hear Michael humming in the bathroom when I woke up, and I didn’t have to make eggs for two. I could read the newspaper as slowly as I wanted without worrying that I was taking too long with the Sports section. I didn’t have to share the bathroom, the toaster, or the coffeepot. This was ok. Really. Maybe If I kept thinking this way, I’d eventually convince myself.
I refused to acknowledge the emptiness that was nestled deep inside me like a malignant growth. I refused to let myself wallow in self-recrimination or pity, and I refused to miss Michael.
After breakfast, I decided to rearrange my pitiful collection of furniture throughout the house. I pushed the bed to the opposite wall, moved my dresser closer to the bathroom door, and hefted the bookshelf in our room until it was next to the side of the bed that Michael had always occupied. I grabbed a spare comforter and remade the bed with it, just to change the look. I stepped back, perused the now completely different room, and nodded. I moved to the living room, and since I only had an armchair and an end table, did nothing. I guessed that I would have to go shopping soon for something to fill the space.
Satisfied with my efforts, I hopped in the shower and scrubbed the scent of used tobacco from the night before from my skin. I pulled on some sweats and an old holey t-shirt and sat down to think.
It’s funny how some ideas, although they are completely crazy and not worth even an iota of thought, can stick with you. Though Kelly and I laughed at Heidi’s “Cosmo” idea, it was stuck in my craw, and stuck good. A hook-up sounded dangerous, and actually kind of slutty, but maybe it was the right thing to do. People have rebound relationships all the time, and they are no worse for wear afterwards. But could I do it? I had never had a one-night stand. As a matter of fact, Michael had been my first, and only, serious relationship. He was actually the only guy that I had ever slept with, pathetic as that seemed in such sexually-enlightened times.
Michael and I had known each other since grade school. He was actually the first person besides my immediate family who knew that my parents had died in a plane crash. He was there for me, and held my hand and acted as my rock more times than I could count. We attended high school together, and we had drifted together romantically in much the same way we had eventually drifted apart: slowly. We had always been in the same group of friends, and one night, when we were the last two of our group to be walking home from the movies together, we kissed. It had been sweet, chaste, and just the sort of thing that shy teenagers would do. The funny part was that neither of us had any idea of what to do about the budding attraction we had felt for each other. We groped like the gawky teenagers we were in the back of his car, we walked to classes together, and we went to senior prom together. And that night, after prom, we consummated our romance in a hotel room he had reserved for the occasion. We never imagined that we’d be anything other than together. It was a comfortable relationship from the start, aided by the fact that we had grown up together. When had we grown apart?
I was old-fashioned by nature. I was never promiscuous, and I had never thought of having sex just for the sake of having sex. It had to mean something. With Michael, it had meant something. But here I was, seriously contemplating having a one-night stand with some random stranger who meant absolutely nothing to me, and to whom I meant absolutely nothing. That was wrong, right?
I wasn’t so sure. Everything else had changed so drastically in such a short time. Why couldn’t I?
The only person I could call to help me with such a drastic change of self besides Michael was Kelly. Kelly was my co-conspirator in everything. We had gotten in a lot of trouble throughout the years. She was the only person I would trust talking about such a drastic measure with. She would tell it to me straight.
“Catie, you can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, and I was sure that on the other end of the phone line, she was throwing her hands up in the air in a gesture of futility. “You? The Queen of the Prudes?”
I took offense to that remark. I wasn’t a prude. I was just … controlled. Sorry if I didn’t undress in front of thirty guys every night for tips. I preferred a more subtle approach.
“I just think that maybe I need something different. I’ve never just gone out and done it before. Maybe it’s time to experience what every other girl in the United States experienced when she was a teenager. ” I frowned. Seriously, what did my friends think of me?
“I just think that Heidi was way off-base with the whole hook-up thing. You never know what you’ll run into out there. I think you can do better.”
“But it hurts. This loneliness thing hurts. I don’t like it.”
“You won’t be happy with yourself afterward, you know. That type of behavior is not in your makeup. I’m surprised you’re even considering it. You don’t want to do this. Really you don’t. You just want something. Take my advice, and let it be for now. You’ll feel differently in a month or two, I swear.”
“You’re probably right,” I conceded. After all, I had just gotten out of a relationship. I didn’t need any complications right now. I had to find myself, that’s all. I couldn’t rely on a guy to find me for me. And why, for Pete’s sake, was I contemplating dating advice from a twenty-three year old virgin who swore up and down the first time she did the good old up and down would be on her wedding night? I would be much better off listening to the stripper.
I pushed the thought away. I would concentrate on finding me and leave the rest to fate. How hard could that be?

An award from my buddy Melanie!

2010-07-22T19:57:00.000-04:00

Wow! I won something, and I didn't have to do a thing! Miss Melanie Ray contacted me a bit ago and said that I had to go to her awesome website, www.readitin7days.com to collect. So, I did!

I am not up on all of this tech stuff, but I think I can get the gist of what she wants me to do:

A)thank the person who awarded me. Thanks, Melanie!!!!

B) Link back to her site...see above.

C)Pass the award off to fifteen great bloggers. Hmmm--Do I know fifteen bloggers? Give me a few on this one.

D) contact those fifteen to tell them about their award. See letter C.

E) tell seven things about me. Well, ok--you asked for it!

1) I love gemstones. I have a collection of them.
2) I am the lead singer in a classic rock band.
3) I fluctuate between being extremely self-conscious and self-confident.
4) I love fried food, and my waistline proves it.
5) I saw my first book, How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket, playing in my head like a movie the whole time I was writing it.
6) I am afraid of drowning.
7) Anything with less than two legs and more than 4 is no friend of mine!

So, here are some of the bloggers that I'll admire:

1)of course, I have to list my Melanie. It may be against the rules, but I'm doing it anyway. Read it in Seven Days

2)Cyndi Tefft is a sweetie-pie, and I love her book Between.
Cyndi's Blog

3)Sessha Batto, one cool individual: Sessha's World

4)Steven Jensen, whose great book, The Poison of a Smile, will be published by Night Publishing soon, just like mine! Steve Jensen

5)Leah Petersen-what a great gal! Leah Petersen

6)Lori Carrington, a fellow Pennsylvanian, and someone who was sweet enough to feature my book one week on her great website. Lori Carrington

7))T.L. Tyson-another great Author and Authonomite. T.L. Tyson

8) Ashlynn Monroe-a Silver Publishing author. How is that working for you? I'm curious. Ashlynn Monroe

9) Karl Kronlage-just a great guy with a new baby. Wondeful Author on SPR. Karl Kronlage

10)Diane Nelson-what a woman! Talented, talented, talented...Diane Nelson

11) the amazing Noelle Pierce, Noelle Pierce

I'll continue this list in a little bit!!!!

Jess

updates, so to speak

2010-07-21T23:33:00.000-04:00

Ok, so no updates to speak of. Things are at a standstill right now while I await my turn for How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket to be published. This is so exciting to me, and a monumental test of my patience and self-control. I must be growing up if I can stand to wait for a couple of MONTHS before my book gets published. I am proud of myself.

I think that I will have to change Hooking Up again. I was very happy about the direction the book is going, but I am afraid that I may have gone too far. I think that some of the parts of the book are too authobiographical, and I think that if certain people were to read it, I'd ruin my relationship with them forever. No matter how I feel, I'm not willing to risk that. So, I guess that this experience has actually forced me to see some truths. You can be hurt by and angry with a member of your family, but they will always be family, and some relationships, no matter how strained and dysfunctional, are worth salvaging.

I think that I'll spend some more time this weekend refining my work on that book to change things up. I won't lose the raw emotion of my MC, but I'll redirect its source. I still have lots of research to do on certain aspects of our legal system, so I'll work on that as well. It was wonderful last Saturday to get up before everyone else in my house, throw on a pot of coffee, and sit at the kitchen table with my netbook, just sipping, thinking, and writing. I could really get used to this writing thing.

That's all for tonight. I told myself that I'd go to bed early, but obviously that didn't happen. Oh, well. Live life while you can. Stay up late, get up early, have fun, and enjoy what you're doing. You just never know.

Yes, I am!

2010-07-21T23:32:00.000-04:00

Visit Night Reading

Good stuff

2010-07-17T17:21:00.000-04:00

I did a lot of writing today, and I am very pleased. I was at an impasse with Hooking Up, and I knew what I wanted to say, just not how to say it. But after some brainstorming, I got into one of those moods where I just had to write. My whole morning was spent on my netbook, but I am pleased. I just uploaded the changes to Authonomy.com under the name Jasmine Fields. Check it out!

My sister-in-law is still working on my book cover for How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket. I am so excited to see how it looks! The suspense is killing me. Still, I've been told that patience is a virtue.

Things seem to be moving along with my "Supermarket" book. I got an email from my publisher and he said that he'd move me up the list. I wonder what that means? At least there is progress...how much how soon remains to be seen.

Well, I'm going night fishing with my family tonight, so I won't be around. I hope you have a great night!

Jess

some more stuff I forgot to mention

2010-07-13T21:08:00.000-04:00

See, I'm bad at this blog stuff!!! I guess I'll just have to learn, and you'll all have to bear with me.

My wonderful sister-in-law Teresa is working on designing my book cover for me, and I have to give props to my husband who took the picture that is currently on my profile (and will also be on the back of my book)with his cell phone, no less!

I am quite excited about things to come. I have an offer for a book-signing from the Salty Paws Biscuits in Nags Head, NC. Hopefully I'll be able to coordinate it and do it when I go down south for my book tour from December 3-5. I plan to talk to the local media, the businesses in town, and anyone else I can about my upcoming book.

I also have two other books in progress right now. Hooking Up is about a woman with a damaged psyche who just loses her long-term boyfriend (to another woman) and who decides to fill the gap, so to speak, with a random man. How did Caitlin manage to find the one guy in town who wants more than a one-night stand?

The Accident (title is tentative) is about a man whose mistake behind the wheel costs a child his life. Now someone is after him and his own son. Will he save his family from disaster?

Hopefully I am blogging the kind of stuff you're interested in. If not, tell me, and I'll try to do better. What can I say? It's my first day...

Hello!

2010-07-13T19:47:00.001-04:00

I'm glad to be here with you!

I'm really not sure where to begin. Will anyone actually read this blog? I suppose I should introduce myself and explain why I'm here.

My name is Jessica L. Degarmo. I am a wife, mother, full-time insurance broker and branch manager for a great place called NII Brokerage, and a part-time college student studying to get a degree in business management. I also DJ part-time at KC101, a local country music radio station, and I am the lead singer for the band Department 24.

So, because I wasn't busy enough, and because my husband gave me a deadline, I began to write a book.

Really, I should back up further and explain why, out of all of the other forms of creative self-expression I could have used, I chose to write a novel.

I have always been an avid reader and writer. I have written papers, stories, poems, lyrics, and letters for as long as I can remember. I think my enthusiasm really grew in the fifth-grade. My teacher gave us creative writing exercises to do, and I loved them. Over the years, I have started many books, many stories that I never finished. With some, I just ran out of steam, and with others, I ran out of things to say. None of my recent ideas seemed to really sprout wings and fly the way they needed to in order to become full-length books.

That all changed when my whole family went to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Our first trip was in 2008, and the beauty of the area and the rugged power of the ocean took my breath away. I was hooked. I loved it all; the salt-water smell that hung like heavy perfume in the air, the golden sun that warmed my body and mind, and the soft sand between my toes. I loved the area with all of its historic charm and picturesque lighthouses, the people who were so friendly and kind, and the wonderful array of restaurants and other attractions that begged to be visited. I was charmed.

The ideas started flowing like the water at high-tide. My first attempt was a gut-wrenching story about a woman whose child is dying of cancer. In this book, my main character would be separated from her husband and child, but when they learn the boy's cancer is fatal, the woman is allowed to rent a house on the beach for the summer with her son. I pictured a scene where they rail at God on the beach during a thunderstorm, and another poignant vignette where the boy and his mom come to terms with death, and each other.

Needless to say, I got so depressed during my research and writing that I gave it up. I am not meant to write sad stories. They get under my skin and stay there, where they fester and bleed.

The second idea that I had turned out to be much better. And the book "How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket" was born.

Meet Quinn, a thirty-two year old journalist who has been jet-setting around the world for a few years writing stories and running from committment. When the stakes get too high, she jumps ship and runs to a new place, a new story. However, a new permanent assignment for a nationally-syndicated travel magazine lands Quinn back in her hometown, Corolla, North Carolina.
Quinn is happy to put down roots in her old hometown by the sea. But one day, while grocery-shopping for one in her local Grocery King supermarket, she realizes that she's lonely. The committment she ran away from is now calling, but where will she find true love?

Join Quinn on her hilarious journey to find the man of her dreams in the most unlikely of places: the supermarket! Will she find rotton apples or romance?

I am pleased to announce that "How to Meet a Guy at the Supermarket" will be released by Night Publishing in October 2010. Stay tuned for more information about the anticipated release date, where to buy, and for details on my book-tour, scheduled for December 3-5, 2010 in Nags Head, North Carolina!

I hope you come back to visit my blog, and I thank you for stopping by!

Jessica