Jane Richardson

A Warm Welcome to Jane Richardson

Scots-born Jane Richardson has – amongst many other things – worked as a management trainer, a holistic therapist, and a deputy stage manager in the wonderful world of opera. Now married to a fabulous man she met while working in the theatre, she’s a full-time mum to their two gorgeous kids and lives with her family in the historic seaport of Hastings on the beautiful south coast of England. She loves walking on the seashore, cooking up feasts for friends and family, good movies and great books, and planning family holidays to her favourite country, Italy. She writes stories about men and women, love and relationships and hopes quite simply that people will like them.

Here's the blurb for Jane's latest release: A Different Kind of Honesty

Always the one who ends relationships before they’ve barely begun, it’s way out of character for Maggie Lawless to take a risk with a man she hardly knows…the man she meets in a seedy New York City diner has a truth about him, a sincerity like no one she’s ever met before. Tony Valentino is an FBI agent fresh from a long-term undercover operation that’s left his life in tatters. His marriage over, separated from his children and with nowhere to call home, he’s frustrated and angry. All that keeps him going is the sweet memory of a brief encounter with a beautiful woman, though it wakes him from crazy dreams that leave his mouth dry and his sheets soaked with sweat. When he meets her again, it’s obvious the fire that burned so briefly between them never really went out...but as their affair rekindles, both Tony and Maggie find the very people they thought they could trust are the first to turn against them.

Before treating us to an excerpt, Jane Reveals:

From where do you get inspiration and what inspired you to write 'A Different Kind of Honesty'?

Inspiration comes from everywhere and anywhere.  It can be a conversation overheard on a train, a snippet in the newspaper, or reading or watching another story and wondering what might have happened if the characters had decided to take another journey instead of the one they did.  The inspiration for the book I’m working on right now came from one moment in type – I was standing in a field one evening beside a rural cottage my family rented for a while, watching a WWII Spitfire flying overhead as part of an air show taking place in the town nearby.  I was holding my daughter on my hip, she was just a toddler then, and I found myself wondering about the other women in the past who might have stood in the same spot, watching a war plane fly by, and wondering if their husband was safe, and if he’d ever come home.  A tiny moment in time can start of whole string of stories.

Who controls the story – you or your characters?

It must be a bit of both – I have the idea in the first place, but once your characters are fully-formed and you know them as well as can ever be, then they can drive along the story in the sense that you just KNOW how they’d react, what their next move would be.  You have to be careful, though, and not let the characters run away with the story, especially the secondary characters – if you don’t watch out, they can take over!  There’s a character like that in A Different Kind of Honesty – Danny Chang is the heroine’s best friend, and he’s naughty, hugely lovable, and just such fun to be around, but I had to rein him in or he would have been just too much.  Great fun to write, though!

What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?

I’d like to think they’ll still be thinking about the characters some time after they’ve finished the book, and with a good feeling inside.  If a reader recognises something of themselves in a story – that moment when a reader can say, ‘yes, I KNOW that feeling!’ then I’m very happy.

What do you think are the main ingredients for a successful book?

Good, controlled writing, and a book that’s been well edited – by which I mean a reader shouldn’t notice either of those things!  Writing that flows well, and dialogue that sounds natural and unstilted.  A believable plot, but one that will still take the reader by surprise.  A range of emotions, too – everything

Do you have a writing routine?

Not any more!  When my children were younger and went to bed early, I’d write in the evening for a couple of hours.  Now they’re older, as that, along with the fact that we home-educate, well, you can imagine that takes up a lot of time, not just with the work we do at home together, but the many activities, workshops and visits outside of the home that we’re involved in.  By the end of the day, I’m pretty much done in – happy, but done in!  So these days, I write when I can.  If I can have a few pages done in a week, that’s real progress for me!  But I’m very happy with that, right now the children’s education comes first.

Anything special you require to keep the creative juices flowing?

I need peace and quiet.  I can’t even deal with music in the background, my annoying butterfly-brain just hooks into the melodies and any handle I had on the story is gone!  Having said that, music is always, always a huge part of anything I’m writing.  Each story has its own ‘soundtrack,’ and I’ll often compile a cd of the music that goes with a particular story to play in the car on in the house during the times I’m not writing.  It somehow keeps me connected with the story, especially when finding consistent writing time isn’t easy.

What is the best writing advice you have ever received? 

It was ‘just get on a write!’  Can’t argue with that!

How do you like to spend your free time?

I’m lucky to live in an area with lots of wonderful walks, we can choose to be right by the sea, or we have some wonderful country parks with wild woods and space to breathe deeply.  The dog and I will just get up and go, and within minutes, we really are ‘away from it all.’  Besides that, my hubby and I are in the process of renovating a 1930s house we bought last year.  Most of the original features were removed years ago, and it would be an enormous job to replace them all - not to mention the somewhat prohibitive cost! – and so we’re trying to redecorate as sympathetically as we can and restore something of the original character back to the house.  That means I’m spending a lot of time sourcing things like classic fabrics, pretty china and lighting, prints in period frames, and so on, and it also means I get to research architecture, illustrators and designers in order to pull it all together.  It’s great fun, and it’s lovely to feel we can bring the house up-to-date but still be true to its heritage.

What would you most like to accomplish this year?

I’d like to get a lot further on with my writing.  And – whisper this one – I’m on a diet, and would like to lose at least another 10lbs!

What is your culinary speciality?

I really love to cook, especially Italian food, so it will be something like linguini with garlic and lemons prawns – quick, healthy and really delicious.  My family would probably vote for my roast chicken Sunday dinner, or our good old home-cooked old fish and chips!

Now A Taste of Jane

From A Different Kind of Honesty – Chapter 1

“I don't want to lose you, Maggie. Really I don't!”

Detective Sergeant Danny Chang shuffled along the corridor on his knees, his hands clasped over his heart in a frenzy of unbridled passion.  “Please! You want me to beg? Look at me—I’m begging.”

Maggie Lawless sighed. “Aw, come on, Danny. You know how much I love you. No matter what happens, we'll still be friends.”

“Ha! You say that now, but when you've finished with me you'll crumple me up and toss me aside like a used tissue. You're just like all the others!” Danny threw himself face down on the floor and sobbed, his shoulders heaving in distress. Maggie stepped over his prostrate form and leaned against the swing doors at the end of the corridor.

“You're a nut, Chang.” She shoved a door open with her shoulder and walked through backwards, laughing.

Danny picked himself up and brushed the dust from his already grubby jeans. Pushing the door open further, he stood aside to let a young female constable pass, eyeing her curvaceous bottom appreciatively as she scuttled by in too-tight uniform trousers. Maggie folded her arms and watched his undisguised lust with an amused smile.

“You never miss a shot, do you?”

“Life's too short,” he answered, flicking his over-long fringe out of his eyes. His sleek, glossy hair gleamed with the black-blue sheen of a crow's back. He watched the WPC’s retreating form as it disappeared around a corner. “So anyway—what's all this crap about you leaving?”

Maggie shrugged and turned away. “I never said I was actually going.” She loosened the belt of her damp raincoat and shook her hair out of the collar as she walked down the corridor.  “All I said was I feel like a change. That's all. You know, try something different.”

Danny fell into step with her, slipping off his battered leather pilot jacket to reveal a T-shirt that might have once been white, but had long ago washed out to rain-cloud grey. A ladder of rips ran down the left leg of his jeans. One of the tears gaped open, revealing a knee with every step he took.

“Don't do it, Maggie,” he pleaded. “It won't be the same without you. I'll really miss you if

you go.”

“Danny, you haven't seen me in six months.”

“Ah, but I thought about you every day and most nights. Dreaming of running my fingers through your soft auburn hair, losing myself in those beautiful baby blues. What do you think kept me going, up there in Miserable Manchester?”

“You really are a loony, you know. What are you now, thirty-two, thirty-three? You're the youngest dirty old man I know.”

Maggie was only pretending to be serious. She and Danny Chang had been friends since day one at Police College. They'd laughed, cried, and got roaring drunk with each other, more often than not all on the same night. But never anything more, not even so much as a drunken snog, never mind a chaste kiss. If asked, Danny would have said their friendship was too valuable to spoil. Maggie would have said she’d trust him about as far as she could throw him with the wind behind her. Either way, they were best friends who told each other everything.

Most things, anyway.

Their pace slowed as they turned the corner, where two rows of doors faced each other across the corridor. A particularly evil variety of one hundred percent nylon carpeting covered the floor. After walking across it, you had to be certain to neutralize yourself on a wooden surface before touching another living soul for fear of zapping them half-dead with static shock.  Maggie rapped her knuckles on a mock-teak door with a black plastic nameplate announcing in white letters the lair of Detective Inspector Rachel Arden.

“I wonder what she wants?” Maggie whispered. “She only just caught me, too. I was trying to sneak off early. I haven't had a free weekend in ages.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “And it's Poet's Day.”

“Poet’s Day?”

“Yeah, Poet’s Day. You know. Piss Off Early, Tomorrow's Saturday.”

REVIEW

From Night Owl Reviews, http://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Reviews/Edie-reviews-A-Different-Kind-Of-Honesty-by-Jane-Richardson
‘Jane Richardson has written a riveting story with unexpected twists and turns... A Different Kind of Honesty is a fast-paced tale filled with strong relationships and unexpected twists and turns... A Different Kind of Honesty is a fast-paced tale filled with strong relationships and unexpected drama, with a fascinating plot that will leave you breathless.  This story is well worth reading!

Many thanks for regaling us today, Jane. Great to meet you and I love the look of 'A Different Kind of Honesty'
Wishing you huge success!

Janes' Links: BUY click here MuseItUp Publishing   for Jane's Home is Where the Heart Is blog click here

Barbara Casey

A Warm Welcome to Barbara
Barbara Casey is president of the Barbara Casey Agency, representing adult fiction and nonfiction for authors throughout the United States, Great Britain, and Japan.  She is also the author of numerous articles, poems, and short stories.  Her award-winning novels have received national recognition, including the Independent Publishers Book Award, the Dana Award for Best Novel, and the Publisher’s Best Seller Award.  Her novel, The House of Kane, released in 2008, was considered for a Pulitzer nomination, and her novel Just Like Family received special recognition by the 7-Eleven Corporation.  Her latest young adult novel, The Cadence of Gypsies, was reviewed by the Smithsonian for its list of 2011 Best Books. The Gospel According to Prissy, a contemporary adult novel, was released in the spring of 2013. 
In addition to being a frequent guest lecturer at universities and writers’ conferences, Ms. Casey served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003. 

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO PRISSY  By  Barbara Casey

BLURB:  

Three Army veteran misfits, a college dropout, an unmotivated high school graduate accused of murder, a controversial warden of a women's prison, and a little girl with the gift of prophesy – these are the people 31-year-old Lara Kruger invites into her life after suffering a miscarriage, a divorce from an abusive husband, and unemployment.

A Taste of Barbara:

Miriam walked away from her desk and paused in front of the unframed full-length mirror she had salvaged from the recent renovations in the women’s shower rooms.  The edges were chipped and blackened, and there was a fairly large crack that ran vertically from one corner to the other.  The condition of the mirror was the result, no doubt, of one of many displays of frustration and anger within the prison walls before she took over.  Still, the mirror served its purpose.  On those rare occasions when Warden Miriam Temple of the Braden Women’s Correctional Institution needed to be sure she looked her best, at least she could do so in the privacy of her own office.


Studying her reflection, she saw a tall, aging fifty-nine-year-old woman with dark hair streaked with gray cut in a simple shag, myopic brown eyes made evident by the wire-framed glasses, and a raw-boned body that could be considered well-proportioned if it weren’t for the fact that it was about twenty pounds on the heavy side, fifteen of which had settled around her thighs and buttocks.  “Pear shaped, as opposed to apple shaped,” she frequently reminded herself, “so that means at least I won’t die of a heart attack.”  The fact that her ear lobes were also plump and didn’t have the diagonal creases indicating some type of heart disease seemed to confirm that fact.  She didn’t know if these old-wives’ tales she had grown up with were really true, but she liked to keep an open mind, especially when they worked to her benefit.


She normally didn’t wear make-up, but this morning before leaving for work, she had dug out her small tapestry bag that held what few cosmetics she owned and applied a little blush and a touch of lipstick.  She rubbed one cheek with her hand now, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have bothered.  She didn’t need to impress anyone.  Even if there had been the awkwardness that sometimes comes with being a large woman, it had been replaced years ago by the confidence born from a privileged background and the level of acceptance and comfort from which she viewed herself.

Her dark gray suit and crisp white blouse were clean and unwrinkled, thanks to the prison laundry facilities.  The plain black pumps she wore looked both practical and appropriate to complete the over-all appearance of discipline, control, strength, and above all, a positive attitude.  It was the attitude within the prison that Miriam had worked the hardest on when she took over as head warden six years earlier.  There had been a stifling wave of hopelessness and despair among the female inmates so thick it made it difficult to breathe.  This was manifested daily in brawls, food fights, and a behavior of non-compliance in general.  “Animals get treated better than we do,” had been the mantra at the prison.

For six years Miriam had been working fourteen-hour days, overseeing the operations of the facility, staying on top of problems, writing reports, and talking to every person she could reach about helping to set up programs for “her girls” as she referred to them.  Each of Miriam’s programs offered something to a few of her girls, but not to all, something she struggled with daily.  She constantly researched what other correctional institutions were doing not only in this country but other countries as well, trying to come up with new ways to stimulate her girls and help them feel enthusiastic about their lives.

It had worked.  She started getting noticed after the first year of her tenure.  Complaints from the prisoners dropped, a State audit confirmed that for the first time in over a decade the prison budget would be in the black, and the over-all appearance of the facility was vastly improved.  Government officials who previously had been reluctant to show interest now started to open doors for this hard-working, persistent, and obviously dedicated woman. 

And then Prissy had been born.


click here to follow the rest of Barbara's tour

Barbara's LINKS:

www.barbaracaseyagency.com

www.strategicmediabooks.com

BUY       www.amazon.com

http://www.barnesandnoble.com

Delighted to meet you, Barbara!
Now leave a comment for the chance to win a $25 GC

A Warm Welcome to Rebecca Lee Smith

First Rebecca tells us a little about herself:
Hello, world. I live with my husband in the beautiful, misty mountains of East Tennessee, where the people are charming, soulful, and just a little bit crazy. I’ve been everything from a tax collector to a stay-at-home-mom to a house painter to a professional actress and director. My two grown sons live nearby and still have the power to make me laugh until I cry. They are great friends, and will always be the best things I’ve given back to the world. It took me a lot of years to realize that writing is my true passion.When I’m not churning out sensual romantic mysteries with snappy dialogue and happy endings, I love to travel the world, go to the Outer Banks for my ocean fix, watch old movies, hang out at the local pub, and make my day complete by correctly answering the Final Jeopardy! question.

Link - Follow Rebecca's tour

Now for the blurb from Rebecca's latest romantic suspense novel
'A Dance to Die For' available from The Wild Rose Press - BUY link

Annabel Maitland believes in destiny and following her heart—Trent Sheffield realizes his destiny is to believe in her.

Annabel destroyed her Broadway dancing career trying to save her friend Quinn's life. Convinced Quinn’s death was no accident, Annabel follows a clue to a North Carolina mountain inn and discovers that everyone who knew Quinn—the real Quinn—wanted her out of their lives, including the sexy innkeeper whose laid-back charm and megawatt grin take Annabel's breath away. The physical attraction between them is undeniable, the cerebral attraction irresistible. But trusting her heart means ignoring evidence that plants him firmly on the list of suspects.

Determined to keep his family’s financially strapped inn afloat, the last person Trent needs working for him is a stubborn, impossibly long-legged dancer whose sharp wit and silver eyes keep him scrambling to stay on his toes. He's falling hard, and he wants to trust her, but Annabel's connection to his ex-fiancée makes him question her motives at every turn. When a string of mysterious accidents threaten Annabel’s life, they must unearth Quinn's killer before it's too late. But what if Annabel was the target all along?

Rebecca Reveals:

In a couple of sentences, describe the hero’s character.  What do you like best/least about him?           
           Trent Sheffield, the hero of A Dance to Die For, has always felt compelled to fix things, whether it’s a leaky faucet or his irresponsible brother’s broken heart. Protecting the brother he’s practically raised and keeping their family’s financially strapped inn afloat are his priorities, and he tries to do the best he can. Later, as he’s falling in love with Annabel, he doesn’t hesitate to add her to the list of things he cares most about and wants to protect. I love his dry, self-deprecating sense of humour, and the way he “gets” and appreciates Annabel. What I like about him least is the fact that he believes with all his heart that he knows best, and that isn’t always the case. 

And the heroine? How do you relate to her?

            My heroine, Annabel, is an off-Broadway dancer who suffers from a condition known as dancer’s hip. She injures herself and destroys her career, trying to save her friend Quinn from falling off a platform. Determined to find out the truth about Quinn’s death, she follows a clue to a North Carolina inn where she falls in love with Trent, Quinn’s ex-fiancée. Depending on her level of activity, Annabel is in some form of pain throughout the book, but never thinks of herself as a victim and handles her own challenges and setbacks with humor and spirit. I understand that kind of coping, and hope I’m like her. At least a little bit. When I turned forty, I found out I had been born with a hole in my heart. The corrective surgery to repair it left me with an irregular heartbeat that pretty much ended my acting career. The stress of being onstage would set it off when I least expected it. I couldn’t trust it, so I began directing. Now, I control the irregularity with vitamins and supplements, but I know what it’s like to have to stop doing the thing you love most and switch to Plan B.

Who controls the story – you or your characters?

            I control the story. At least, I think I do. But sometimes the characters come to life and say or do something I didn’t expect at all, and I’ll think, Where the hell did that come from? I love it when that happens. For me, it is one of the coolest, most magical, and fun things about writing.

What do you think are the main ingredients for a successful book?

            A successful book is one that engages your mind, touches your heart, and keeps you snuggled down on your side of the bed, blinking under the glare of your tiny reading lamp, turning pages long after you should be asleep.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? What would be your tips to overcome it?

            If I’m away from writing for more than a few days, for whatever reason, it takes me a while to get back into it. The juices stop flowing and every idea, every piece of dialogue, seems stale. Or stupid. If I’ve really hit a roadblock, it’s usually because the plot or the characters are going in the wrong direction. But I’ve found that if I can’t seem to get back on track, just sitting and writing anything will shake it loose. I’ve read about other writers working on several manuscripts at once to keep that from happening, but I just can’t do that. One is hard enough.

What is the best writing advice you have ever received?

            Besides reading (and re-reading) Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, I have three quotes I keep by my desk that inspire me every day. One is printed on a small river rock, and says, “Nothing is written in stone.” The second one, by E. L. Doctorow, says, “Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” And the last one, and probably the one that soldiers me through the most, is by Nora Roberts: “You can fix anything but a blank page.”

What can we look forward to from you in the near future?

            Another book, I hope. And then another, and another, and...

What would you most like to accomplish this year?

            I’m almost finished revising a romantic mystery/suspense I wrote two years ago and shelved before I finished the last two chapters. I want to polish it and send it to my editor. I’m also working on a contemporary romantic comedy that’s probably going to turn into a mystery. I hadn’t thought it would, but I’m kind of stalled on it now, and as Lawrence Block once said (another writing quote I love), “When your story slows down, throw another bear in the canoe.” In my case, it will be a dead body.

What was your favourite book as a child/teen/adult? Are you currently reading anything?

            As a child, I loved a book called They Loved to Laugh by Kathryn Worth, about an orphan girl who goes to live with an Amish family. I think I kept that book checked out of the school library for two years running. As a teen, I was drawn to love stories and mysteries. My favourite was The Moon-spinners by Mary Stewart. As an adult, it’s a tossup between Persuasion by Jane Austen and Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. Those are two of my favourite movies, too. I’m currently reading The Cinderella Deal by Jennifer Crusie and...A Dance to Die For. Yes, I know it’s my own book, but it’s the first one I’ve published, and it’s a dream come true to actually hold it in my hands and read it. So far, I haven’t found any typos. Which is a good thing. LOL.

What is your culinary speciality?

            I make a mean lasagna. My kids requested it for Christmas Eve dinner four years in a row. On the fifth, I said, “Lasagna?” And they said, “Works for us.” My apricot nectar cake is pretty amazing, too, and I’m not a baker. I wish I could make decent cornbread and biscuits, which is almost a requirement here in the South. My mother spent her life looking for the perfect pound cake recipe, and never found it. My son is studying to be a chef, and is a wonderful cook, so it’s nice to know I didn’t pass along my defective culinary genes.

Any exciting plans for the near future?            A weeklong trip to the Outer Banks on the coast of North Carolina to spend time with my family and to get my ocean fix. I have always lived in the mountains, but now that I’m older, my soul feels more at home by the sea. I calms me down, it comforts me, and it makes my imagination soar.

Now for A Taste of Rebecca:


Rebecca's LINKS: Website BUY Amazon   The Wild Rose Press

Something zinged past Annabel.

It cut and ruffled the new growth of hickory leaves beside her shoulder, like a bird soaring through the trees at warp speed. Her head jerked around. Trent was running toward her with his arms airborne, his beige raincoat ballooned behind him like a cape.

He pushed her off the path, then hit the ground sideways. He slid into the underbrush, shoulder first, and roughly pulled her down on top of him.

Another high-pitched crack echoed across the meadow.

Trent's hard body jolted beneath her.

He enveloped her in his arms and rolled her to the side, pressing her head into his broad chest. The musky scent of his aftershave mingled with the pungent tang of dried weeds and earth sent her senses into overload. The weight of his muscular thighs pushing against her equally muscular thighs sent a shudder pulsing through her. “It's okay,” he whispered. “I've got you.”

They lay motionless in the tall warm grass, side by side, for what seemed an eternity. Until the only sounds she could hear were the soft, protesting whir of insects and the rapid, steady thumping of his heart.

Annabel lifted her head and stared at the line of dark stubble along his chin. “What the hell was that?”

“Probably a poacher.”

“A poacher? Are you serious? Here?”

He loosened his grip on her shoulders. “The forest across the road belongs to the inn. There's no fence. All we can do is post No Hunting signs and hope for the best.”

“So, how do your guests feel about dodging bullets? I bet this place stays packed.”

It's been a pleasure to meet you, Rebecca. Thanks for dropping by and good luck with the rest of your tour!

Now leave a comment for the chance to win a $20 Amazon GC