Welcome back to Lost in a Good Book at Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction.

The month of May seemed to slip right into June without a minute to spare. My family celebrated college and high school graduations-a lot of them.  I now have kids to call on, if I ever have the need, with careers as probation officer, graphic designer, electrician and soon, if I decide to drive a semi-tractor to work, a diesel mechanic.  If you count the son-in-laws, I’ll have another electrician this month and a maintenance tech to clean up any mess I make!  With all the miles I traveled for ceremonies and the layers and layers of sugar-incrusted cake I ate, I’m anxious to slip into my pile of To-Be-Read and relax under the sun on my backyard deck. 

This month is a special treat with our June Lost in a Good Book Session.  We’ve got three great summer reads to discuss.  Sister authors writing as K.M. Daughters bring us a murder-mystery with their novel Beyond the Code of Conduct.  Cowgirl Dreams by Heidi M. Thomas is based on the life of her grandmother, a real Montana cowgirl in the year 1920 and Lillian Caudwell shares The Golden Treasure, from The Anna Mae Mysteries, her Paranormal Mystery involving the search for lost riches.  If you’re looking for a summer escape that doesn’t have the high costs of a vacation to the Bahamas, all of these selections fit the bill.  So grab your sunscreen and iced tea, get comfy on your lounge chair and join us for our June discussion at Lost in a Good Book at WRDF! 

June's Discussion will run from the 21st - 30th.  Get your selections, enjoy the reads, and be ready to join us. We are interested in your opinions, observations, and questions.

Rating: PG13
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher:  The Wild Rose Press

Review                   Excerpt

Blurb:

FBI Agency brass and Sullivan family connections force Special Agent Bobbie Leighton into an undercover operation with inactive Homicide Detective Joe Sullivan.  Posing as a cattleman and his arm-candy wife the couple is assigned to infiltrate Bradley Sterling’s illegal operation.  Suspected of human trafficking, Sterling may be connected with Jimmy Sullivan’s murder.  How do Bobbie and Joe adhere to their professional code of conduct living under the same roof?  Can they forget their personal history, ignore their volatile feelings for each other and ensnare their target when they might be next on Sterling’s victims list?

Author Bio:

                Since that conference, K.M. Daughters has written five additional award-winning novels, all contracted to The Wild Rose Press and its new subsidiary, White Rose Publishing.  Most recently the 1st book in The Sullivan Boys Romantic Suspense series was distinguished in The Lories published contest; Past, Present and Forever received the Coffee Time Romance and More Reviewer’s award and their upcoming release, Beyond The Code of Conduct was rated 4-stars, compelling, page turner, in the June 2009 issue of Romantic Times Book Review.

                K.M. Daughters resides in Illinois and New Jersey with husbands Nick and Tom, a total of five children and two grandchildren between them. 

Blurb:

Defying family and social pressure, Nettie Brady bucks 1920s convention with her dream of becoming a rodeo star. That means competing with men, and cowgirls who ride the rodeo circuit are considered “loose women.” Addicted to the thrill of pitting her strength and wits against a half-ton steer in a rodeo, Nettie exchanges skirts for pants, rides with her brothers on their Montana ranch, and competes in neighborhood rodeos.

Broken bones, killer influenza, flash floods, and family hardship team up to keep Nettie from her dreams. Then she meets a young neighbor cowboy who rides broncs and raises rodeo stock. Will this be Nettie’s ticket to freedom and happiness? Will her rodeo dreams come true?

Based on the life of the author’s grandmother, a real Montana cowgirl.

Author Bio:

Raised on a ranch in isolated eastern Montana, Heidi Thomas has had a penchant for reading and writing since she was a child. Armed with a degree in journalism from the University of Montana, she worked for the Daily Missoulian newspaper, and has had numerous magazine articles published.

A tidbit of family history, that her grandmother rode steers in rodeos during the 1920s, spurred Heidi to write a novel based on that grandmother’s life.

Cowgirl Dreams is the first in a series about strong, independent Montana Women.

Heidi is a member of Women Writing the West, Skagit Valley Writers League, Skagit Women in Business, and the Northwest Independent Editors Guild. She is an avid reader of all kinds of books, enjoys hiking the Pacific Northwest, where she writes, edits, and teaches memoir and fiction writing classes.

Susan Palmquist (SP)-Female writers in Ireland seem to have taken the world by storm. Marian Keyes, Cecilia Ahern… and her hit series Samantha Who? in the US, And yes, you too.  Some of my favorite books are written by Irish writers. They make me laugh and the characters are so real. What’s the secret to writing books with characters that seem to jump off the page and live on long after you’ve read the last page?

Sarah Webb (SW)-The 'Secret', ah, I wish I knew. Irish women tend to have a good sense of humour and I think this translates onto the page. Marian Keyes is as funny in real life as she is in her books. Family is very important in Ireland and again I think this comes over in the books; friendship is also vital.

SP-My grandmother grew up County Cork and obviously Ireland has changed considerably since then. Women are going out to work, running their own businesses. Do you think any of this has influenced what women what to read about?

SW-Yes, absolutely. Since Patricia Scanlan and Marian Keyes first published in the 1990's there has been a flowering of modern fiction for women. Coleen lit if you like - Irish chick lit. We love reading about modern Ireland.

SP-I loved your book Always The Bridesmaid, it made me laugh out loud. Do you think humor’s important in a book, even if it’s a tear jerker?

SW-Humour is vital. Along with larger than life characters and a nice, pacey plot.

SP-Your first book was published with Poolbeg Press and now you’re with Pan Macmillian. Did you or do you have an agent?

SW-I usually have an agent. I'm actually 'between agents' at present.

SP-You also work in the book industry as a children’s book consultant so you probably see both sides of the business? Any mistakes you see writers making over and over again?

SW-Mistakes? Unpublished writers you mean? The first commandment of popular fiction is Thou shall not bore. Boring the reader is a big sin in my book!

SP-It’s said that Chick Lit is on the way out in the US? How about in Ireland, is it still a hot genre?

SW-Yes, it's still huge. Marian Keyes, Cecelia Ahern, Cathy Kelly, Sheila O'Flanagan, Patricia Scanlan - all still going strong!

SP-Any hot trends emerging in the book industry in Ireland?

SW-Glitz is making a comeback - big, gutsy novels - Jackie Collins type books.

SP-As well as writing women’s fiction, you also write books for teenagers? At the moment I’m juggling three writing projects and find I actually love it. How about you, can you write two books, especially two different genres at the same time? If so, any tips for doing just that?

SW-I work on one at a time. I couldn't work on two books together - too confusing. I need to immerse myself in one set of characters, one plot. I do a teen novel, then an adult novel . . .

SP-You live close to the coast? Anything that’s connected to water is a distraction for me, but how about you? Distraction or inspiration?

SW-I couldn't live away from the sea. Simple as that. I'd feel landlocked. I love the water. Distraction, maybe - but I do like a nice distraction!

SP-What’s next for you? Any more books for teenagers in the works? Any other genre you might consider working in?

SW-I'm currently editing the new adult novel, The Loving Kind, and then I'll start the new teen novel in the Amy Green series which I hope will be coming to the U.S. very soon! No plans for any more genres, no.

SP-You attend lots of writer’s events and conferences, any tips you can pass along to beginning writers or even seasoned ones?

SW-Work hard and never, ever give up. My first book, Kids Can Cook, was rejected seven times before finding a home.

FIRST PAGE CONTEST VOTING

This will be the final preliminary round of voting in our FIRST PAGE CONTEST.

Please read each entry carefully and then cast your vote in the poll located on the left sidebar. Voting will end on 4/18/09.

 Writers know how important it is to grab their readers on the very first page. In today’s fast-paced society, readers want instant gratification, action, and a darn good reason to stay with your story.

Required Elements:

1. All submissions must use this prompt line somewhere in their entry: The warmness he forced into his smile drew the attentive group closer, except for her…
2. All entries must stay within our PG13 or below rating level (This is not an age restricted site)
4. This must be an original piece, not published elsewhere.
5. This contest is open to all writers, published or unpublished.
6. Maximum word length: 500

Round THREE / Entries 11 - 14  Are Below

The warmness he forced into his smile drew the attentive group closer, except for her. Kara knew his breath reeked of raw onions; he’d already breathed on her. Someone cried, “Gross Sid, you stink!” and the crowd of servers jumped back in disgust.

Kara laughed. “You didn’t really think he was going to tell you where to find Brad Taylor,” she asked Maddie. Picking up her bread basket, Maddie Perez rolled her eyes.

“If I had to smell his armpits to find out where Brad Taylor’s staying, I’d do it.”

Sid slid off the stainless steel counter and came at Maddie with an arm raised for her to sniff. “I know who’s cleaning his state room, come on.”

Maddie was already on her way out into the dining room. “Stay away from me, cerdo,” she ordered. She swung a leg at him and missed, but his dodge and the rocking ship caused him to lose his footing.

Kara put down her tray when she heard his knee smack the tile. “You okay?”

“No” he grumbled. The Brazilian pulled himself up slowly by the counter’s edge.

“Why you have to give everyone a hard time?”

“I don’t give nobody a hard time. I’m just sick of everyone asking me what he’s like.”

“How are you supposed to know?”

“Exactly. Some of the guys are talking about it but I don’t want to lose my job.”

“I don’t get why the big secret. If you’re going to take a cruise with a thousand other people, there’s only so much privacy you can have.”

Sid nodded. “I’m not taking his room service if they ask me. They can get Julio.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that. You’ll never get out of the dining room.”

“That’s because I’m too good looking. A face like this don’t belong below deck running vacuums.”

 “It does if it keeps belching up onions, and I’d push vacuums if I could do it outside Brad Taylor’s room.”

“What’s he got that I don’t got?” demanded Sid.

Kara picked her tray back up with an exaggerated flourish. “The number one movie at the box office and millions of dollars!”

She hurried back to the dining room to clear and reset. Sid was going to get her in trouble and she needed this job just as much as he did. It’d be safer to fantasize about why the Hollywood hottie was hiding aboard the Duchess when she was on a break.  Besides, she probably wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of Brad Taylor, so thinking about it was a waste of time.

1970 Dakar, Senegal, West Africa

 “That which I feared most has come upon me!” thought Mbeng Fall.  He stood at the edge of a precipice that looked straight down and out toward the ocean until land and water embraced and splashed headlong into Black Africa.  Mbeng Fall was nearly late for school every day; because of the lure of the endless horizon that made the young eighteen year old ponder on a great many things with great speculation about what lived on the other side.  Of course he knew it was America, but he knew there was something he had to do there. He had seen it all, somewhere.  It all had to be dreams in vivid color and she was always there.  “Such a beautiful young thing,” Mbeng Fall said out loud in broken English.  “Just ready to have herself for myself.” He said more loudly.   Whenever he looked at her, the warmness he forced into his smile drew the attentive group closer, except for her. Yet, even this mental video inside his head seemed to pale away only to hear that voice that always sounded so…so lethal.  Mbeng could swear it was in the wind and not just in his head.  Lately, that voice and those words had captured his every thought and woven any notion right back to the very thing roaring through his mind, at that very second.  

“Yallah! Yallah!  Get your cursed backs into it!” a hideous voice rang out and Mbeng turned instantly to see where the voice had come from, this time.

“Yallah Yallah!” a boy standing behind Mbeng shouted.

“Aliou!  Why aren’t you in school?”

“Because of you!  You late again and they gonna throw you out for sure!  Come on, we gonna go now.”

“One second, wey!  Things … things are happening to me, and I … I like it, but I know I shouldn’t.”

“Things …what kind of things?  You got visions of killing people and leaving them for the vultures?”

“Well, not all the time, but more and more.”

“Mbeng, you are right!  You got a problem, for sure!”  They both looked at each other and burst into laughter, and the two of them took off across the open field as Mbeng continued looking back over his shoulder, back at the distant horizon.  His brain and his loins wanted to see her again.      “Aliou, see there?”  Aliou looked out straight ahead.  “Aliou, you sure do act like a Toobob!” Mbeng noted.  Mbeng pulled Aliou arm up to his eyes and Mbeng looked at the black, hairless skin that was as purely, richly black Wolof as snow is richly white Toobob.  “It’s only a color and nothing more." Aliou suggested. "Them Toobobs,  make you one of them, Aliou?” 

Aliou stopped his march toward the class with only ten minutes left to be on time.  Aliou turned toward Mbeng Fall.  He grabbed the sides of Aliou's head and tried to shake himself lose from the extreme compulsion...

The Princess and the Sculptor

Mesopotamia 2800 BC

Swirls of henna hair, billowing down a curvaceous body, swaying in a blood-boiling rhythm as she danced for him. Slinking, gliding arms akin to serpents. Shapely legs, dainty feet, leaping, curving like a scorpion's tail. Enchanting eyes, sweet dates, flickering with inner mystery. A smile, sparking a fire to sear his lips.

In life, numb. Upon awakening, the rainbow world of dreams transformed to a dark cloud-cast day. Tittering on the brink of madness, his senses screamed, warned, he’d die if he didn’t have her. Goddess Ishtar, the golden lioness, trapped him beneath her claw to never loosen her hold. More cursed then blessed, haunted by an ethereal siren. When the king of Kish called for the best sculptor in all of Mesopotamia, he leapt onto the boat for a chance at new surroundings, a different bed where the dreams would not find him.

Drifting past lush fig, date, and palm trees that graced the riverbank, squirming against the splintery seat of the ship’s seat, he knew their ripe sweetness couldn't rival that of the vapory temptress. The single square sail billowing in the wind, left the oarsmen hand’s idle. A trio of ducks skimmed across the water, quacking for crumbs.

Mashqu’s eyes feasted on his first sight of Kish. Boxy, clay-bricked houses spread across flat land, thick with greenery, sprouting fig trees, heavy with purple fruit and large leaves swaying in the cool river breeze. Turning his head toward a fussing duck, Mashqu’s gaze fell on the woman shooing the fowl away, one of a cluster of slender handmaidens standing in the shallows, clutching bright screens of purple linen. His gaze locked upon delicate feminine fingers that slithered from one of the screens and drew the cloth back. The water modestly hid all but the woman’s face.

Mashqu gasped. Heart pounding, he shot up from the crude stool. Throat knotting as if he’d swallowed a hard hematite stone. You. He blinked his eyes and looked again. Bathing before, me. It is you. And I’m awake. Scorching heat flared through his body. The muscles in his groin swelled and tightened.

The twittering laugh she shared with her handmaids enchanted him like a magic tune. Fire rippled under his skin. He throbbed. “I found you.” The earthy yet ethereal beauty snapped her head in his direction and a broad, sunlit smile filled her face. Suddenly, she slipped behind the purple screen. Vanishing.

He kept the linen covering and her attendants in his sight as the barge docked. The warmness he forced into his smile drew the attentive group closer, except for her and the two maidens holding the purple screen. Taking a deep breath of air, Mashqu shakily…