“Surviving the Titanic disaster and picking up the pieces” The Girl Who Came Home Hazel Gaynor Reviewed by Clare O’Beara The tragedy of the Titanic continues to fascinate us. This well-written story shows the point of view of some of the ordinary travellers aboard her – Maggie Murphy, leaving Ireland with her family, is one. THE GIRL WHO CAME HOME starts with her last moments in the only home she has known, a rural Irish cottage, as fourteen people from her small parish in County Mayo pack up and head off for a better life in America. Maggie is leaving behind a young man, Seamus Doyle, and she promises to write. Harry Walsh is a crewman, a steward with White Star Lines, proud to be working on the maiden voyage of such a fine vessel. He’s only assigned to the third class passengers, but he’s determined to give them equally as good a service as the millionaires aboard. The scale of the ship in dock is quite staggering to all viewing her in Southampton. Some of the wealthy people even bring their small dogs aboard. Fast forward to Grace Butler, darting admiring looks at a fellow student’s Converse sneakers during journalism…

I leave for a writer’s retreat on Wednesday. It’s a week at a Tennessee cabin with fellow writers Cindy Dees and Elizabeth Hoyt. I’m sure those on FB will see all sorts of interesting #Squidge pictures there. So here are a few interesting musing in (what is to become) my standard format. 1. We found this cabin a) while hiking. Elizabeth Hoyt broke her ankle and Cindy and I carried her to the door and met a god of a lumberjack who nursed her back to health. b) by googling “random cabin somewhere to hide and write.” Also known as drink and talk about fantasy men c) cabin choices are always filtered by superimposing Starbucks locations in a 2 mile radius. No retreat is possible without mochas. d) at the Brenda Novak auction Answer: D In truth, the idea of retreat in Tennessee sounded so good, we just bid without looking too closely at it. We’re not exactly sure how rustic it will be. Fortunately, there is a Starbucks nearby, so at least we’ll have coffee. Also…(A) did happen, but only in Elizabeth’s …um… nighttime musings… (And OBVIOUSLY, the god of a lumberjack was Mr. Hoyt. And she reminds me…

You’re home alone. The house is dark. The clock is reading 3:32a.m. That noise that wakes you from your sound sleep, it’s going to be one that pulls your butt from your warm bed and has you investigating the source. Because, as a tough chick heroine of any story, we don’t need weapon because we are tough enough on our own and our thoughts will direct us on the right path. Everything we needs is on us, in us. We has a reason for facing down whatever evil might lie ahead. In Poltergeist, Diane Freeling faced terrifying odds as her children were taken from her. In her determination was her motivation and she got them back and won. Her love of her kids was her driving force. For me, a self-defense enthusiast since the age of fifteen, it was a history that drove me to become the toughest soccer Mom that walked. Many bad things randomly happened to very nice people in the town where I grew up. I decided young I would never be one of those victims. I taught this lesson to my kids, enrolling them in Tae Kwon Do while other parents told us “But Chorus is…

On April 14, Carina Press is publishing six brand-new sports romances. Today Kat Latham is here to tell us about her rugby novel, PLAYING IT CLOSE. Hey, everyone! I’m so excited to be here today to introduce you to the world’s hottest rugby team, the London Legends. Now, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that most of you have never been to a rugby match or watched one on TV. And, since there aren’t many of us authors writing about rugby players, you might not have read much about these men with unbelievable bums, abs and thighs, wearing tight uniforms and short shorts. Mmm… Sorry, I drifted away there for a second. I’m back. If you’d told me when I was a kid that I’d grow up to write about rugby players, I’d have said, “What’s rugby?” You see, I’m from California, and rugby’s not exactly a big sport there. But when I was 23, I moved to the Czech Republic and met the most wonderful British man—a man who’s crazy about rugby. And as I fell in love with him, I fell in love with his favorite sport. That’s why I created the London…

I was the little girl who had chubby cheeks and a mushroom cut at seven years old. A smattering of freckles on my ski-slope nose, and corduroy skorts—a shorts and skirt combination–sewn by my Mum because we had no money, my dad in seminary to become a minister and working part-time at the skim milk factory. I didn’t speak until I was four, because we moved to Africa when I was two, and I was too busy eating mangos and watching the beautiful Congolese people to learn their language, but when we came back to Canada I began to find my tongue. And at seven I began to write poems, the kind that told the paper how sad I was because I had no friends. We were homeschooled and I’d moved ten times by then, and a seedling shrivels up if it has nowhere to plant roots. My blue ink scrawled across the page and maybe if it were pretty enough, maybe if the poems rhymed, maybe then Dad would see me, and Mum wouldn’t be so tired and we wouldn’t be so poor, maybe if I put them into words, good things would happen. They didn’t, and no matter…

I think authors hear voices. Different ones at different times, all wanting their stories to be told. Sometimes I’m a little wary with the voices and story ideas…but these days, things are crazy in the real world. During the release time of RISING ASSETS, right now, we are moving houses. With a hubby, two kids, two dogs and an insane cat, I am trying to move after living in our current home for twelve years. I am losing my mind, but I’ve found a lot of lost socks. We’re only moving a few miles away, up on a mountain with a gorgeous view of a lake and more mountains that reach all the way to Canada. This is my dream house, and I really want to move. At least I thought I did until I actually started boxing up stuff. My son packed his room this weekend to take up to the new house, and thus has been wearing the same shorts to school all week. My daughter has packed nothing, and frankly, I’m afraid to look under her bed. There have to be monsters down there…or more socks. Lots of socks. The cat is running around like he’s on…

Thank you Miz Sara and everyone at Fresh Fiction for letting me make a stop here on my recipe blog tour for THE RED-HOT CHILI COOK-OFF. I’m so excited about the second book set in Cadillac, Texas. There’s a brand new lingerie shop in town called Bless My Bloomers, run by three cousins, Carlene, Alma Grace and Patrice. And things are heating up at the panty shop because Carlene found some bikini under pants in her husband Lenny Joe’s briefcase and they damn sure did not belong to her. Now Alma Grace is the president of the Easter program committee at the local church and she’s headed for a committee meeting. In Texas, folks don’t just go to a committee meetings empty handed. No, sir! It’s a fine time to take along food and Alma Grace arrived at the church fellowship hall with a platter of jalapeno poppers and a dozen peanut butter cupcakes. Lord, no, Alma Grace didn’t make them herself! Alma Grace could sweet talk a nun into a black lace corset and fishnet hose but she couldn’t make toast without it resulting in sirens and fire trucks. God bless her mama’s cook. An excerpt about what happened…

HOW TO HANDLE A COWBOY is the first volume in my Cowboys of Decker Ranch series. I just finished the first draft of the second book in the series (HOW TO WRANGLE A COWBOY) and I can’t believe how much fun I’m having. It’s obvious that romance readers love to read series books, and writers love to write them. From Nora Roberts to J.R. Ward, from Debbie Macomber to E.L. James, authors are giving readers what they crave: books that allow them to really get to know a group of characters, so opening the next book is like joining old friends. Books that give readers a sense of place, and create towns they want to return to again and again. Books where favorite characters drop in for surprise appearances. I wrote six stand-alone books before I embarked on a series. Too many times, I’d read books that were second or third in a series and found myself confused, or felt left out of little treats that were clearly “in-jokes” for returning readers. I’d also read books where the author spent page after page of Book Two summarizing the first book in the series. I read one where nothing new happened…

Every author is different in how he/she writes a book, but most fall into one of two main categories – either a plotter or a pantster. I’m a pantster, meaning I write by the seat of my pants. Or in my case it’s more precise to say my characters tell a story – in their own sweet time – and I just get it typed up. It’s a tough way to do business because in the real world of publishing, editors want to know what a book will be about long before I’ve written it. There’s a lot of overlap in publishing. For instance, right now DASH OF PERIL is out, BACK TO BUCKHORN, HARD KNOCKS, and NO LIMITS are turned in, and I’ve just gotten started on writing HOLDING STRONG. Busy, busy! There’s plenty of promo to do on DASH OF PERIL. (Yay, thank you!) I just wrapped up page proofs on the other three. At the same time my editor wants a summary of what HOLDING STRONG will be about, along with character descriptions, so they can start conferring on covers. All I can tell her about the plot is that it’ll end happy. ::grin:: I know what…

If I told you you’d love a hero who was frightened of literary societies and muffins, would you believe me? Probably not, but read on, and maybe I can change your mind. For me to enjoy a romance, I have to love the hero. Generally I like one who’s strong, tough, and honorable, a take-charge kind of guy, the kind of guy who relishes trouble, who’s a fighter as well as a lover. But sometimes an unexpected hero simply arrives on the page. The hero in THE WINTER BRIDE, Freddy Monkton-Coombes appeared in the previous book (THE AUTUMN BRIDE—a RITA finalist) as a minor character. He was the hero’s best friend, a sidekick kind of guy. He’s neither tough, or take-charge —he’s a beta-hero, a funny, charming, bad-boy rake. Freddy isn’t even a heroic kind of name. But somehow, I knew he had to be the hero of the next book. Even though he’s horrified by things like literary societies and muffins. Freddy on the literary society Damaris (the heroine) attends: “The horror stories those girls read are enough to make a fellow’s hair stand on end.” Max frowned. “Horror stories? They don’t read horror stories, only entertaining tales of…