Promo’s Book Tour for Fairy Dust by Carol Shenold

Welcome to the third stop in Sensuous Promo’s Book Tour for Carol Shenold’s, Fairy Dust.

Can a half-fairy and a were wolf find true love and save the world the same day?

Fairy Dust by Carol Shenold

Half fae/half witch, Ande Ryan’s deepest desires are simple: a stress-free, fun evening with a nice guy, to earn the respect of her peers in the Paranormal Investigation Unit, and at long last, learn to use her Goddess given fae magic.

Instead, she fights a demon, gets mugged by a pixie, meets her soul mate and oh yeah, has to try and defeat a wizard with the help of a six-foot elf and a wolf—Cal Masterson.

Cal had no idea that his first encounter with Ande Ryan would include a fight with a demon or an intense attraction to the red-haired fairy who displays as much courage and determination as any wolf in his pack. Will Cal overcome his need to protect her as they both fight the odds and allow her fulfill her destiny?

Purchase from AMAZON

Excerpt

The thing coming at me barreled out of the trees, leaping from shadow to shadow.

Its rotten-meat smell drove me back. It didn’t hesitate before it threw itself at the circle shield. Sparks flew off, crackling in the air and weakening the shield. It kept coming, like the crazy it was, slamming itself into the arc, weakening it more and more until one of the impacts threw me back, into my own energy and through it. 

Okay, out of protection here. I threw myself over to land on my knees and came up in a crouch.

The ghoul looked around as if it couldn’t figure out where I went. When it saw me, it let out a snarl and flew toward me. I sent a stream of earth fire at his sorry ass but missed because I levitated at the precise moment I let the stream of fire loose. Ahhhhh.

It always happens at the wrong time. If I ever get control of the flying thing, it will be so great. 

Now the darkling was truly confused, and I sent another tiny but forceful fire stream toward him. This time I didn’t miss, and he burst into flame, at least his arm did.

He screamed with frustration because he couldn’t see where I was, flailed around a bit, and ran back into the trees.

“Damn it.” I needed down before the hell dog came back so I could get rid of it.

What if some kid came along. Not one child but several, in a group, with a leader came skipping toward the bridge. Damn, I shouldn’t have had that thought out-loud.

“Go back,” I yelled as loud as I could. “Hurry. Run.” The kids were chattering at the top of their lungs. The leader tried to push them faster, wanting out of the park before the sun set altogether I guessed. They didn’t hear a word I said.

Shadows crept toward them, and one shadow moved away from the others. It was back and heading straight toward the kids.

“Up here, idiot. Leave the kids alone. I’m your prey. Come on, use that one cell you have for a brain.”

“Oomph.” I dropped like a dead fairy, directly in front of the thing. I was toast.

The social in Social Networking

What’s happened to the social aspect of our world class social networking sites? I posed this question today on my Facebook wall, off hand, as an observation that very little in the way of social interaction seems to take place on these sites nowadays. The responses and shared annoyance surprised me a little.

It’s only been a few short years since social networking exploded into all our lives and connected us to the “four corners” of the planet. We interact daily with people who are often on the other side of the world, and we share common loves and affection in many cases. But, recently, I’ve noticed that the biggest social network of them all has lost a lot of its social aspects. Hence the question - where is the social in social networking. Many users of Facebook have apparently been asking the same thing. Endless streams of advertising and for authors the constant flogging of books... Does this really have any effect on the buying public? Apart from annoying them, of course.

Over the past few days, I’ve left over two dozen groups designed solely for the purpose of book promotion. The membership of these groups must be in the vicinity of 10,000 people. So why leave? Well, in groups of over 1000 authors trying to snag the attention of readers, how long do you think your post stays on the top of the page? It’s not so bad if you own the group or admin it, you can then post your material and “pin it” to the top. Hardly fair, but still, you do own the group, after all.

At the end of the day it’s my belief that the only real way to sell books is to take them to where readers look for new titles. Showcase your work on your pages, invite other authors to share their work via your blogs, and rely on the best promotion possible, your readers, who if they like a book will tell all their friends! I’m not convinced for a moment that endless posting to groups does anything more than irritate people who would much rather converse and share a laugh, or ask a friend for a recommendation when it comes to a new book or author.

A few years ago, MySpace was all the rage... I remember how much fun it was to log in and see who’d posted things on my page, and how much fun it was to have some control over the way my page looked. The new MySpace doesn’t look like that, of course, everyone is expected to look the same... which could account for why the site floundered and is all but dead. Facebook allows us to waste hours playing games, of course. But, how many people really do chat and have fun now? It was only a few years ago that a single post would have numerous friends jumping in, laughing, and having a lot of fun - it was social - it was an online party. Now, that rarely happens.

Twitter is a ton of fun–and I’ve honestly found there is more social interaction there than on Facebook much of the time now. I don’t know the mysteries of Tumblr, another hot ticket in the online social world. Pinterest is hot–don’t understand how that works, either, but I’m old–maybe it’s all getting to be too much after all?? I do know that getting back to basics is the only way I see of being able to find some focus for work, and storytelling. There is no easy answer, if indeed there is an answer at all, but I do wonder often now if all of this social networking has taken us all away from real interaction with people around us. We spend so much time in front of our computers that we lose time in our “real” worlds that could be spent with the people we love and doing the things we love. Instead, too many of us appear determined to spend hours on Facebook–bitching about it when it doesn’t work, doesn’t respond quickly enough, and makes changes we don’t like to their stream of doing things.

Ultimately, I come back to the same query–does any of this further my efforts to reach people as a writer–or as an individual? I’m doubting it somehow... What do you think?

Guest: Jo Sparkes

A brief interview with Jo Sparkes:

How long have you been writing?

Since I was about eight. If squiggles count, since I was four.

How long have you been a published author?

My first book was published a year ago. I’ve been a professional writer for some time.

What titles do you have available?

Feedback  How to Give It, How to Get It. The Writer’s Guide to Spinning Gold. It’s a survival method for turning criticism into career rocket fuel.

And now this fantasy, of course. The Birr Elixir.

What made you choose the subject of this book?

Pure self-indulgence.

I’m paid to write what others want. Don’t get me wrong -- I’m grateful for the work.

But it’s so much fun to just cut loose and write what I want to write. Without permission, without approval, and without a committee review to determine what ought to be most effective for the goal at hand.

Mind you, there’s a ton of editing and criticism that goes into crafting a book. But it’s still my own choices, my own story. Or the characters story, really. They’re the bosses.

Heaven!

Do you have any new titles coming soon?  Will you be venturing into the area of fiction anytime soon?

November is the projected date for the next book in the series. And I have a sort of beach/tropical/supernatural horror, but I haven’t begun that novel.

What is your favourite genre and why?

I vary. What really catches me is a great story, with great characters. For example, I’m not really a big horror person, but I loved the Sixth Sense. It transcends the genre.

What, to you, is the most exciting part of the writing process?

I suppose – and this probably is really weird – I suppose those key flashes during the rewrite. You’ve got the draft done, and after letting it sit a bit, pick it up and read. And you change bits here and there, of course, but you’ll find a whole scene or thread that doesn’t quite work. The gut says it could be better.

And BAM! Marra (the character) hits you with what she really would do – some new idea that deepens the story, that makes it twist and take off in a new direction. And the other characters and plot points suddenly evolve before your eyes.

You walk around grinning foolishly the whole day.

If you could co-author a book with anyone, who would you choose and why?

I love collaborating. Two heads are so much better than one, at least upon occasion.

Perhaps Tom Clancy. I’d love to find out his method, how he works. Or Maeve Binchey. Shakespeare would be great – but I have a feeling I’d never be able to communicate with him.

Where can readers find you on the web?

Birrelixir.com. The book details and blurb is there – and other stuff. 

Feel free to include your latest release/promo, and any additional info you might like included! Thanks so much for being my guest.

A well-known Century City Producer once said Jo Sparkes “writes some of the best dialogue I’ve read.”

Jo graduated from Washington College, a small liberal arts college famous for its creative writing program, forgot about writing totally, until she had a chance to study with Robert Powell, a student of renowned teachers Lew Hunter and Richard Walter, head of UCLA’s Screenwriting Program.

She has written feature film scripts, scripts for Children’s live-action and animated television programs, a direct to video Children’s DVD, and commercial work for corporate clients. A featured writer on several websites, she was a member of the Pro Football Writers Association and (very unofficially) the first to interview Emmitt Smith when he came to the Arizona Cardinals.

Jo served as an adjunct teacher at the Film School at Scottsdale Community College, and even made a video of her most beloved lecture.

Her book for writers and artists, “Feedback How to Give It How to Get It” has received glowing reviews.

When not diligently perfecting her craft, Jo can be found exploring her new home of Portland, Oregon, with her husband Ian, and their dog Oscar.

Her latest book is the fantasy, The Birr Elixir.

You can visit her website at www.josparkes.com or connect with her at twitter at www.twitter.com/sparkes777 

 About the Book:

Marra had never heard of Birr Elixir.

But when Drail of the Hand of Victory saw the words in an old book, she found herself agreeing to make it. Even lacking the right ingredient.

And after drinking it, the Hand of Victory defeated a Skullan team, something no one had ever done before. Now Drail walked the path his grandsire had walked, and Marra was offered a place as Brista, his potions mistress. She doubted her ability, but took the chance to escape her slave-like existence.

When she found a way to wake the mysterious sleeper, Marra wondered if she deserved the title after all.

But with Tryst's waking, ill luck and bad things suddenly dogged their tracks. Drail, being a man of action, saw only the good in people. Marra lacked his faith, but was frozen by her own timidity. When the time came to confront these enemies, would Tryst stand with them or against them?

Would it make any difference?

Purchase your copy at AMAZON    

Meet Jo Sparkes

Title: The Birr Elixir

Author: Jo Sparkes

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Sparkes Productions

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0985331836

ISBN-13: 978-0985331832

Purchase your copy at AMAZON.

Book Synopsis:

Marra had never heard of Birr Elixir.

But when Drail of the Hand of Victory saw the words in an old book, she found herself agreeing to make it. Even lacking the right ingredient.

And after drinking it, the Hand of Victory defeated a Skullan team, something no one had ever done before. Now Drail walked the path his grandsire had walked, and Marra was offered a place as Brista, his potions mistress. She doubted her ability, but took the chance to escape her slave-like existence.

When she found a way to wake the mysterious sleeper, Marra wondered if she deserved the title after all.

But with Tryst’s waking, ill luck and bad things suddenly dogged their tracks. Drail, being a man of action, saw only the good in people. Marra lacked his faith, but was frozen by her own timidity. When the time came to confront these enemies, would Tryst stand with them or against them?

Would it make any difference?

First Chapter:

IT WAS A VERY dirty shop.

Marra had long since given up trying to keep it clean. The dust of San Cris was the stuff of legend – and not in a good way. It had to be cleared out of your nostrils at the end of the day, or sleep was impossible. It clung to your hair, which was a reason so many women wore it short. Men wore their hair long, seemingly not to care that the sand actually lightened the shade. Most females preferred being clean.

Marra's dark red hair was long, and she spent a lot of time brushing the sand out. Some thought she was vain, and perhaps she was about the one thing that proclaimed she wasn't born in San Cris. But long hair was strength, the strength of warriors. And for Marra, it made her feel safer.

She wanted to feel safer.

At least it was a beautiful day, with that intense blue sky the desert had in the early morning, before the sun bleached the air white. And it was a Comet day. If she hadn't already known there was a Comet match this afternoon, the bustling street outside would have told her so.

She listened to the crowd noises now as she scraped the tiny leaves off the crys bark. And managed to scrape her thumb. Quickly she yanked away from the bowl, before the blood could ruin the herb.

And as she stood there sucking her thumb, in walked Drail, Leader of the 'Hand of Victory'. They must be playing today.

She snatched the injured finger from her mouth, covering it with her other hand.

Drail strode to the counter, getting bigger with each step. “Do you have an energy potion?” His eyes scanned the shelves behind her. And she blushed at the lack of wares.

There were herb jars, of course, but few mixtures. Marra was supposed to be an apprentice, learning the power of herbs, the alchemy of powders and potions to heal and enhance. But Mistress Britta had died five weeks ago – just a year into her studies. And Snark, the Mistress's brother, had proved ignorant in the art.

“I'm sorry. Only a health tonic – to strengthen the digestion.”

Drail's eyes roamed the shelves slowly, as if expecting to find some great elixir hidden amongst the cactus needles and crys bark. Marra wished there was something there to satisfy him, but she knew there was not.

“How long to make one?”

She stared back, unable to think of a reply.

“Please.” He clasped both her hands with one of his, and she stared at the sheer size of his fist. There were rumors that Drail wasn't Trumen at all, but Skullan. Few really believed that, of course, for no Skullan would pretend to be other than Skullan. Besides, Drail had hair. Thick, brown hair tied in a long tail down his muscled back. Skullan had hairless bodies, and were much bigger than Truman.

Drail was certainly big. And persuasive. “Please,” he said, smiling at her. He leaned close enough she saw the brown flecks in his gold eyes. “Do you know what today is?”

“All of San Cris knows, sir. Comet Day.”

He shook his head. “All the Comet Days together would not equal this day. A Skullan team has entered the Game.”

Marra stared. “No Skullan would play a Trumen.”

He shook his head. “Actually, there were at least six known games where Trumen faced Skullan. All six losses.”

Marra had never heard such a thing. But she realized if anyone would know, it would be Drail. His whole family was legendary gamesmen.

“What's your name?” His eyes were sparkling – with excitement, she realized. No fear at all.

“Marra.”

“Marra, seven is my lucky number.”

Her own gaze dropped away from the sheer power of his. And alighted on the tome behind the counter.

It was Britta's Book, the mistress's handwritten collection of potions, balms, and notes. Snark had shoved it at Marra initially, but her reading skills were weak, and the old woman's handwriting poor. Marra now lifted the heavy book onto the counter.

The Book opened as it always did at Britta's leaf-mark. On the BIRR ELIXIR.

“Yes!” Drail said, pointing at it.

“Birr?”

“Exactly! With that we will win!”

Marra had always assumed Birr was some sort of herb. Drail must know otherwise. Scanning the recipe, she saw only herbs she had. Except for something called Myrrcleft.

“Thank you, little Marra.”

Her protest melted under his warm smile.

When she read it again, she realized that this Myrrcleft was probably the active ingredient. She could use basil. Basil had great mixing powers and could often be substituted, but if this was some sort of energy potion that may not be enough.

Then she remembered the Trevor seed. Mistress Britta had a two-fist sack filled with a tiny grain-like thing she called Trevor seed. Britta had said it 'boosted' things, made a potion more so of whatever it was to be.

Marra ran back to fetch one tiny seed. She crushed it with the mallet, releasing a sweet oily puff, and hastily dropped it into the elixir. Then she heated it as indicated, but not quite to boiling. Trevor seed lost potency in boiling, she remembered.

She poured the steaming liquid into a glass flask. Glass was expensive, but Britta had marked it must be so.

Hands grabbed her shoulders – she whirled to see Snark behind her. Something in his eyes made her stomach plummet.

“Special order,” she nodded at the flask. “I have to take this to the field.”

“Later,” Snark stared at her blouse. He had been doing that lately, and it made her skin crawl.

“Drail said before the game – or no payment. It's for the Hand of Victory.”

Snark's fingers slid over her shoulders. “I'll take it. You wait here.”

“He said I must bring it myself.” That was her second lie, and she winced inwardly. She'd never lied in her life until Snark became her boss.

But the lie worked.

“I bet he did,” Snark grinned evilly. “Go, then. But don't be long. He's got game in an hour.”

Marra raced out into the sunshine.

Travelers often referred to San Cris as outlying, which to Marra's mind meant small. It was one of the Sandy towns, out on the Flats of Beard. San Cris's population was less than two hundred Trumen total. And today it seemed twice as many were crowding the street, laughing and eating baked cactus treats. It was a Comet day, and San Cris was the host.

For an instant Marra paused, weighing going back for her shoes against the possibility Snark would change his mind. To be barefoot marked one as poor indeed, but then that was pretty much what she was. So she defiantly tossed her long braid back over her shoulder, and hurried on.

She weaved her way through the crowd, then was suddenly snatched up off her feet as if she were a Comet ball herself.

“Cute little Truman,” a booming voice said. Marra found herself face to face with a giant of a man, his head bald and the hollows surrounding his eyes painted dark green. His skin was pale – with patches of burning pink sunburn on his nose. And he had a spider tattooed on his cheek.

He had to be Skullan.

She'd never been so close to one before. By the Desert Crane, she'd only seen three of them in her whole life. Skullan were said to despise the desert almost as much as they despised Trumen.

“What a nice little prize,” the Skullan leered. “You may warm my mouth now, and warm my lap later.”

He pulled her closer. Marra instinctively braced both her feet against his chest. “You defy me, girl?” he asked softly. And she saw Bender, the old shopkeeper from down the street, lower his head and scurry past.

No one, she realized, was going to do anything to help her against a Skullan.

Her feet thrust out again before her brain could stop them. One foot skidded down his massive chest, scraping his nether region. He doubled over; Marra dropped to the dust.

Startled at his reaction, she hesitated but a second before seizing her good fortune. She scrambled to her feet and took off as his companion laughed.

She didn't slow down until a rock in her heel demanded attention.

The Birr Elixir Tour Page

An in-depth Interview with JOHN QUINLAN

Think About the Ink

(An in-depth chat with John Quinlan, by Denysé Bridger)

Download the Interview with images HERE

Recently it was my distinct pleasure to create a special interview with John Quinlan. We wanted something different, and specifically something that is very much uniquely John. So, here we are, and the results of our chat are fascinating and I hope very enjoyable for everyone who knows and likes this remarkable man.

For those of you who aren’t already familiar with John, here’s a mini-bio to acquaint you with him: John Quinlan is a man who has worn many hats in his lifetime, he’s been involved in athletics, professional wrestling, fitness and modeling over the years since the age of nineteen. John’s been an image model for dozens of apparel brands over the years along with appearing in television documentaries, commercials, art gallery print work and having his likeness used on children’s literature book covers. He’s also been a spokes-model for apparel brands as far away as Japan and Asia just to name a few. John’s been a supplement company image model who is currently signed as an Official Sponsored Athlete with Athletic Xtreme Supplement Co., and he’ll be featured in Jillian Bullock’s Book ‘Elite Warrior Fitness’ which is due out later this year.

John is a Physique competitor and a current Romance Novel Cover model as well. He has often been referred to as “the most tattooed male romance cover model in the world today” and that is what we’re here to talk about.

I figured we might as well go back to the beginning, so my first question was obvious. Most people when they get their first tattoo do so to commemorate a special event in some fashion. Thinking back, John, what was your first tattoo and what made you decide to leave a permanent tribute to it on your body? He was, not surprising, very candid in his reply. “Great question Denyse! My very first tattoo was way back in 1993 I got the Notre Dame Fighting Irishman Logo. It is so funny when I think back to how different things were. Tattoos were illegal in Massachusetts so me and a bunch of friends went to Rhode Island to get our first. It has been long since covered up but it is still a fond memory because I am part Irish and it did have meaning at the time.” Of course, that begged the obvious question: Why did you choose to cover it up? “Eventually I opted for sleeve work that goes from the top of that shoulder down to about my elbow so it just got buried with a brand new oriental dragon theme half sleeve. I really love this piece so I can deal with it being gone,” John informed me with a smile.

Do all of your tattoos have a special significance to you? And do you have any favorites? “Every single one of my tattoos has their own special meaning. I love them all but if I had to say one in particular that is a little extra special it would have to be the oriental kanji symbol for ‘family’ on the inside of my left wrist as it represents my three beautiful children.” That’s wonderful, and leads nicely to the question: how does your family feel about or view your artistically enhanced body? Your children must find the tattoos very interesting and pretty. “All good Denyse, my wife feels I have the look and body to pull off a lot of ink which, at this point, actually are part of my persona. The kids are funny and the one who makes me laugh is my second child, Cole, who is three. He looks at them and says, “Daddy you have crayon all over your arms.” So funny, love it!” You have to love the directness of children, and their take on life.

For those who haven’t met you except to see your image, and know very little about you – how many tattoos do you currently have, and where? Isn’t that a great leading question? As always, John is gracious and informative in his response. “I currently have nineteen individual tattoos. They cover various areas that include my abdomen, arms and shoulders, back and hands. On my abdomen there is a tribal sun symbol wrapped in barb wire around my navel with the kanji ‘courage’ symbol next to it. On my arms and shoulders I have two half sleeves, a tribal wrist bracelet, oriental strength and tranquility symbols, a red and black nautical star and the oriental kanji ‘family’ symbol. On my back there is three Celtic crosses with the kanji ‘hope’ and ‘happiness’ symbols and two more red and black nautical stars.

“Finally on my right ring finger is a tribal shamrock and the oriental symbol of ‘perseverance’ with a red and black nautical adjacent to that on my right pinky finger. The tribal shamrock I got approved by professional MMA fighter Frank Shamrock before I put it on as it started out as the symbol of his dojo. I already know what number twenty is going to be but that is a secret for now. What I can tell you is when the time is right for me to get it I will be going to Pino Bros. Ink in Cambridge, Massachusetts. This is one of the best tattoo studios in the world run by owner Frank Pino Jr. and my artist Matt Myrdal. The best of the best!”

This led me to another point I thought we could consult John on. If someone contemplating their first tattoo approached you for advice, what would you offer them?  “Great question, Denysé, because majority of people will be faced with this. My advice would be to really give it some thought. Take your time to find the right artist and the perfect tattoo as it will be on you for quite a long time!”

Now, let’s talk about the purely visual reactions to the amazing work. I asked John if he felt the diversity of the artwork that adorns his body enhanced his presence, or simply makes him more memorable to people in some way?  “To be honest Denyse I have to say both. It enhances my presence because I stand out from majority of the other models. People remember me as I am a bit different and like that. I have always liked being unique and having my own individual look. I often get this from people, “hey you’re the guy with the tattoos.” Or “aren’t you the model/competitor with the most tattoos?” My tattoos make me more memorable and allow me to stand out a bit from the other competitors and my romance cover model brothers. All good,” he concludes with a smile.

We next discussed the very thing that introduced John and I to each other, the art of book covers. John is going to be seen more and more on covers, his unique look and strong presence working in tandem with a superb photographer and creative artists who take those images and turn them into magic. Because John is an artist, too, I had to ask him: If you could choose your “dream cover” what would that image look like in your mind?  “It is really funny that you ask me this Denyse because I just received the cover art piece from my artist I am signed on with, Claudia McKinney, which is my dream cover available for purchase right now. It is called “Break Free” and it has a fantasy theme to it in the water. It is one of the greatest pieces of art ever created of me!

Curious about that incredible piece of work? Here it is:

We then moved to the subject of how and what is going to be “written” forever on John’s body. Do you make conscious decisions about events or milestones that will be “inked” on your body in honor of special landmark events, or do you make the decisions on the spur of the moment?  “Never spur of the moment, Denyse. Every tattoo I have has been thought about for quite some time before I actually got it. Everything from what I want to the color and the exact placing of it on my body. It is going to be on there forever so I want it to be perfect.”

That makes sense. Do you ever do a “rough” design yourself? And, despite all the thought and care you clearly give this artistic process, have you ever wished any of the tattoos had come out different than the finished result you wear now?  “I have never done a rough design but I always have what I want in mind and properly convey this to my artist. I actually love the way all of the tattoos look Denyse, they are all perfect and tell stories. Great memories associated with each one. They are all truly special to me.”

But, have you ever regretted any of the tattoos?  “I haven’t as they all have special meaning and tell a story. Some public and some I keep private but they are all special to me.”

That was a good opportunity, so I pried further! Tell us about two that you’d feel comfortable sharing with us. “My oriental dragon half sleeve tattoo on my right arm is an amazing piece, It was free handed by one of the world’s best tattoo artists Mulysa Mayhem, It is so detailed! I am amazed to this day every time I look at it. I also love my nautical stars done by Matt Myrdal of Pino Bros. Ink in Cambridge, MA. He is one of the most talented artists the world over and along with owner Frank Pino Jr. Pino Bros. Ink is one of the best places on the planet to get inked!”

And, I know we all want to know if there are plans for more of the gorgeous inked art, so I asked, right? At this time, do you plan to have more tattoos done?  “Yes, number twenty will be coming at some point and I know exactly what and where it’s going to go but for now it is my secret,” he revealed with the dazzling Quinlan smile.

You’re a big tease, Quinlan!  “You know I love you Denyse! Sitting here with you doing this interview is awesome and I am honored to be here with such a talented writer as yourself!”

In conclusion, I was really curious about one more thing, so I asked: Is there any one tattoo that is, in your heart, the most special of them all? Like the wonderful, loving man he is, John had the perfect answer. “My oriental kanji symbol for ‘Family’ on the inside of my left wrist as it represents my three children. Being a good dad is very important to me and I love them all so much.”

I’m sure they love and adore you, too, John. You’re a very special person. Thank you so much for this wonderful and insightful interview. In closing, is there anything you’d like to talk about that we haven’t discussed? Please feel free to add your closing remarks.

“I am a huge Denyse Bridger fan!”

Flattering, isn’t he? I love him, too. He’s a great guy, with warmth, and humour. And, oh yeah – he’s REAL. What’s not to love!

For more info on John Quinlan, check out his wiki page, found here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Quinlan_(wrestler)

Websites / Blog / Twitter links:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Quinlan/109918015779005

https://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Quinlan/111697608848774

https://www.facebook.com/John.Quinlans.Fan.Page

https://www.facebook.com/therealjohnquinlan

http://twitter.com/JohnJQuinlan

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://www.modelmayhem.com/1627814

http://www.johnjosephquinlan.com/

http://www.thejohnquinlanzone.com/

http://www.linkedin.com/pub/john-quinlan/2b/475/18a

http://voices.yahoo.com/international-fitness-model-john-quinlan-signs-with-11826414.html

Download the Interview with images HERE

Guest: Val Stasik

Interview:

1. How long have you been writing?

In addition to Incidental Daughter, I’ve written a couple of film scripts and award-winning play scripts in the last seven years. However, I’ve been writing since I was in the seventh grade and have taught writing since 1985.

2. How long have you been a published author?

Incidental Daughter is my debut novel.

3. What titles do you have available?

Incidental Daughter is my only title at this time. I just brought it out in January.

4. What made you choose the subject of this book?

Growing up, I learned there were a few of us who might be termed WWII collateral damage—the offspring of women and innocent young men who went off to war. None of these women expected to become mothers; the stresses and uncertainties of war spurred them to compassion for the men who feared they would not return. Some men did not return, but others did. A few mothers, because of a feeling of betrayal or for whatever reason, chose to turn their backs on the men who in one night had drastically changed their lives.

Some of the children of these single mothers grew up to live normal lives while others faced challenges that either crippled them or honed them into very successful people. The years following WWII harbored secrecy; many of these children were told their fathers died in the war. When they grew old enough to see through the lie, they could still elicit very little information about their fathers. Such were the times.

I chose to tell the story of one child, Liz Michaels, who overcame her trials with the help of compassionate friends. I decided to explore what might happen if at the peak of her career, she loses a child and her marriage fails. Then I decided to throw in a few curves from the past that could ironically lead to the love and family that has always been out of reach. I’ve been asked if this story is autobiographical. No, it’s pure fiction, but many born into the same circumstances as Liz will see themselves in it and, perhaps, be inspired.

5. Do you have any new titles coming soon? Will you be venturing into the area of fiction anytime soon?

Most people would say I’m shooting myself in the foot with my next project and that I should continue to build my platform by writing in the same genre. However, true to my habit of rebelling against expectations, my next novel will be a young adult science fiction novel, working title Catching Air. Young Chet Hain, saddled with phobias because of a car accident that took the lives of his older brother and later his father when they were driving him to a skateboarding contest, must, seven years later, deal with the mystery of who is watching his home. His discovery of the mystery watcher leads him into a world where appearances are not what they seem, where a powerful and dangerous conspiracy continually strives to derail research and development into free energy.

6. What is your favourite genre and why?

I enjoy reading mysteries, especially the works of James Lee Burke. I also enjoy paranormal and science fiction novels. I plan to write more young adult sci-fi and paranormal novels in the future. Catching Air will likely have a sequel.

7. What, to you, is the most exciting part of the writing process?

Finalizing the last draft and designing the book for publication.

8. If you could co-author a book with anyone, who would you choose and why?

Because I could learn so much from him, I’d choose James Lee Burke. He plots so well, his characters are complex, and his details put you right in the story. I also like the way he hints at the paranormal in some of his books.

9. Where can readers find you on the web?

Visit me at

http://www.valeriestasik.com

https://www.facebook.com/vstasik

https://twitter.com/VStasik

http://www.amazon.com/author/valstasik

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6907934.Val_Stasik

About the Author:

Val Stasik shares a home in eternally sunny Santa Fe, NM, with her aging mixed terrier, Sugar, who allows her to sleep in his queen-size bed as well as sharpen her culinary skills for his benefit. Stasik spent many years as a writing teacher, helping other writers find their voice and tell their stories, and is a consultant for the Northern Virginia Writing Project.

INCIDENTAL DAUGHTER is Stasik’s debut novel. Stasik studied drama and English at the University of Pittsburgh and then transferred to the University of Maryland, College Park, graduating with high honors and a B.S. in Secondary Education, Communication. The year she attended graduate school was filled with student protests, bomb threats, and military helicopters.

Stasik became an editorial assistant for THE PHARMACOLOGIST in Bethesda. She then moved to Harpers Ferry where she taught for five years and participated in the Old Opera House Theatre onstage and behind the scenes. In Harrisburg, PA, she became a groom and mutuels clerk at Penn National Race Track and, later, a commercial lines underwriter for Pennsylvania National Mutual Casualty Insurance Company. Right before her son was born, Three Mile Island happened. So far, neither glows in the dark. In Virginia, Stasik enjoyed the enriching experience of teaching writing and literature in the Loudoun County Public School system, instructed other teachers in assessing student writings, and helped develop various English curricula. She also participated in the Fauquier Community Theatre on and off stage. From 2002-2004, she developed a part-time hypnosis practice. She then retired to Santa Fe where she has been writing—a few film scripts that have been produced (Café Destiny, on the Web, Spring 2013, www.cafe-destiny.com) and a couple of award-winning play scripts. Stasik is currently a member of the New Mexico Book Association, the New Mexico Book Co-Op; Southwest Writers; the Independent Book Publishers Association; the Small Publishers’ Association of North America; the Small Publishers, Artists, and Writers Network; and Pennwriters.

About the Book:

When successful publisher Liz Michaels’ marriage to blue blood, Addison Tiffin Payne, fails after the loss of their baby and his growing alcoholism, she pours all her creative energy and passion into her work and finds comfort in her friendship with the co-owners of her company as well as the appearances of the spirits of her Polish mother and grandmother, who never speak except in dreams she cannot remember.

Only her feelings from those dreams linger. When Liz’s ex-husband plans to stage her suicide by pushing her off the balcony of her high-rise home in order to collect on a life insurance policy, he topples to his death instead. When the police arrive, Liz, the potential victim, becomes the prime murder suspect. She meets Pittsburgh Police Detective Jim Shannon, who may threaten her freedom or possibly gain her love. Her life is further complicated by her former mother-in-law’s attempts to destroy her reputation and damage her career. Her swirling feelings are complicated by the simultaneous appearance of a talented, familiar-looking intern at her workplace. He turns out to be her half-brother, but he is unaware of their connection. Although Liz is finished with a past that included a botched meeting with her biological father, the past is not done with her, for the intern and Shannon link her to that past. The cause of her ex-husband’s death is determined and Shannon and his partner, Santello, arrest the person responsible for what led to his death.

Internal conflict is soon compounded by external threats created by her former mother-in-law as well as someone seeking revenge on Shannon and his fellow detective. Just as Shannon and Liz are getting better acquainted, he is gunned downed, but survives. When Liz is leaving Shannon’s hospital room, she passes a woman whom she doesn’t realize is her dead father’s wife. The woman, Eileen, is also Shannon’s sister and notices the resemblance to her dead husband. Eileen did not learn of the existence of her husband’s daughter until after his death. This encounter sets in motion a series of touchy revelations and family get-togethers. All seems to be going well until Payne’s grieving mother decides to make Liz pay for Payne’s death. Warned by the mother’s housekeeper, Detective Santello and another detective rush to Liz’s office. In the shootout, Payne’s mother is killed but not before killing Santello who took the bullet meant for Liz. Will Liz be destroyed by this vortex, or will she use the crisis to open the door to a second chance at love and family?

Book Excerpt:

A FAMILIAR BELLOWING in the outer office captured Liz Michael’s attention. She slipped the contract for the purchase of William Penn Press back into its folder and navigated through the precisely-stacked piles of manuscripts to lift a slat of the blinds covering the door and floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the outer office. Addy Payne strained toward Mandy, pounded her desk, and demanded to see Liz. Paper clips, pens, and papers flew off her desk like hard rain. Liz glanced at her watch.

Only 2:17, but the flush of booze had already spread from her ex-husband’s face to his scalp in sharp contrast to his sleek, white-blond hair. This bloated caricature was not the man she had once loved.

She shook her head. No, she could not possibly have fallen in love with that. As he headed for her office, trailed by Mandy, Liz considered escaping through the other door in her office, but she knew he’d keep coming back—best to deal with him now. She whirled back to her desk, sat, and pretended to peruse the documents in the William Penn Press folder. Addy whipped the door open, but held it, and peered at Mandy as though she were the intruder. Mandy’s hazel eyes pleaded with Liz, and she shrugged her plump shoulders.

“It’s okay, Mandy. Call Miriam and tell her I’ll have the contract ready for her before four.” Mandy scurried out of the room like a rabbit frantic for cover. Addy smiled, shook his head, and closed the door. He removed a stack of manuscripts from a tan guest chair, sat, and adjusted his perfectly pressed pants.

“You look well,” he said. Liz stood, marched to the blinds, and opened them. Mandy glanced up from her phone call to Miriam and nodded her readiness to call security at Liz’s signal. Liz returned to her desk, sat, folded her hands, and calmly stared at him a moment.

“What brings you here today, Addy?” He glanced back at the open blinds, raised his brows, and looked back at her with a slow, feline smile. “What? No ‘How are you? It’s good to see you, Addy.’” Liz stared back at him, unsmiling.

He shook his head. “Poor sales technique, Lizzie.”

“I’m not selling anything. What do you want? I’m busy.” Addy glanced at the stacks of manuscripts and nodded.

“I can see that. You used to be a lot neater.” She continued to stare. He relaxed back into the chair, placed a leg over his knee, and rested his hands on the arms of the chair in one graceful movement.

He considered her a moment. “I need money.”

“You’re wasting my time. Get a job.” His gray eyes darkened. “Pittsburgh isn’t exactly the center of the advertising world.”

“Not my problem. I told you the last time, no more loans―as if I’ll ever see the money I’ve already given you.” She cocked her head to one side. “Tell me, Addy, whatever happened to all of your contacts? Why don’t you go to your family?”

He looked away from her and studied the awards on one wall and then the print of Cassatt’s The Boating Party on the opposite wall. The muffled ring of Mandy’s phone in the outer office underscored the silence. “They don’t know, do they? They think you’re still the Great Ad Man, pulling off one outrageous magic trick after another.” He returned his gaze to her. “I want to start my own agency.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and shook her head. “You don’t know you’ve dropped off the edge, do you? You had quite a run taking risks with your accounts. . . . Oh, you had us all fooled. Me. Your clients. We thought your three-martini lunches fueled your success, till your lack of follow-through took everything south. . . . Lay off the booze, Addy. Then go to New York, LA, Chicago. Find a job with an agency where they don’t know you.”

His whole body deflated. “It’s been too long since the last job. Even if I were hired, I’d have to start at the bottom.”

Liz leaned back in her chair. “Screwed everybody who could give you a good reference, huh? Why don’t you try something else? Maybe banking? Or drive a cab? Who knows? You could end up head of the company.”

He looked worse than he had the last time if that was possible. Now that he was sitting across from her, she could see tiny veins were beginning to sprout on his nose. “By the way, as I’ve said many times, AA has quite a history for turning people’s lives around. Why don’t you give them a try? What could it hurt?”

He sprang from his chair and, hands fisted, leaned on her desk. She scowled at the stink of whiskey on his breath. “Look, I’m not some jerk barfly from a dirty Pennsylvania steel town.” His eyes bulged. “You know I come from one of the oldest families in Ohio. I have an MBA from Harvard. I’ve made three different agencies big money. And I know I can create the best ad agency this town that thinks it’s a city has ever seen.”

Liz rose from her desk. “Then I suggest you create a business plan―they did teach you how to write a business plan at Harvard, didn’t they―and take it to the bank for a loan.” She jerked the hem of her linen jacket. “Now, I have work to do.” She strode to the door, but before she could open it, he grabbed her arm.

“You’ve never forgiven me, have you? She froze, her face a rigid mask.

“Let go of me.” Addy freed her and she opened the door. He left without another word.

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