Thank you to everyone who joined me at the Pirate Ship Restaurant for the first reading and signing of Hoist the Colors. The beer was good and food delicious. Thank you to Serena and Jerry Wagner for allowing us to come aboard!
I am currently looking for a new location to do another reading and signing before April.
So far, my husband and I are enjoying our lazy Sunday afternoon. After the St. Patrick’s Day parade in Virginia City and standing out in the sub-freezing temperatures, a day indoors is exactly what the doctor has ordered. Besides a bit of breakfast and maybe gardening if the day improves, our plans are non-existent.
Again, thank you to everyone who came down to hear Chapter 3 at the Pirate Ship.
March 13th (7:00-8:00pm)- The Pirate Ship Restaurant
495 Greenbrae Drive
Sparks, NV 89431-3136
(775) 331-7203
for more information visit PiratesHarbor.net
April 18th (3:00-3:30pm) – Grassroots Books
660 E. Grove Street
Reno, NV 89502
(775) 828.BOOK
for more information visit PiratesHarbor.net
Liz Scott over at DeviantArt.com created a lovely picture of Amelia Holloway for my story Season of Mists.
March 13, 2010 : I will be at the Pirate Ship Restaurant on 495 Greenbrae Drive, Sparks, Nevada from 7 -8pm. For more information please visit the link here
Reading Chapter 1 of Hoist the Colors.
Synopsis:
Madeleine and Nicholas Valmont are the only children of the governor of Port Royal, Jamaica. Madeleine is fifteen-years-old and six months away from being brought out into society. She daydreams of a different life, wanting to learn more about the outside world. Nicholas, three years older, returns from being a soldier with a hand wound and a desire sail the seas. While his mother is trying desperately to arrange a suitable match, Nicholas carouses in taverns and seduces young bar maids in his free time.
One night, during the Spring Ball, pirates looting the governor’s mansion unsuspectingly carry off Madeleine in a grain barrel. Feeling as though it is his fault, since it was his idea to put her there, Nicholas goes to rescue his sister. Once on board the pirates’ ship, Nicholas finds himself on the wrong end of a flintlock pistol where he meets Captain Redbeard, a fierce-looking beast of a man.
Once a fearsome pirate, Redbeard leads a crew of outcasts, driven into the life of piracy through mistakes society could not forgive. Now, they steal what they need in order to keep the innocent and the condemned alive. As their paths cross, Redbeard must decide the fates of the young Madeleine and her headstrong brother.
Can the Captain keep both of them safe when ghosts from his past resurface, demanding his blood?
Winter has such lovely advantages. While we bundle ourselves up, retaining that delicious warmth, layers of clothing hide all the extra calories bought on by Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. (I, for one, ate my way through the entire holiday season.) I am not saying this is a bad thing – fat keeps our bodies isolated. I can easily add 5 pounds and no one is the wiser. Are we not a higher form of animal? Surely we must take on a bit of isolation to make it comfortably through these harsh conditions. Normally I am not too concerned.
Normally.
However, this morning as steam from my coffee swirled seductively under my nose, I looked out upon my backyard. Right now, like myself, it is in a state of hibernation. The ground is cold and hard packed. What’s left of my plants are shriveled and dead looking. My half-finished project from the autumn waits patiently for me to return. The thing is, the time is slowly arriving to where I must shed my thick fleece jacket and once more take up the spade and shovel.
It is almost inconceivable to believe my backyard was once alive and bursting with green things – that is when I remembered to water. Yet, I am not ready! To toil and breathe in fresh air contradicts my hermit state, exposing my heated cocoon to the elements.
Thankfully we still have some time left before I, like the caterpillar, must shed my sloth exterior and be reborn into the gardening fiend. That is, unless some bird finds me in the mean time.
To anyone reading this, I am currently working on my editing site: www.silverdawning.com
It is still in the baby stages, but I will be editing manuscripts, queries, synopsis or fiction work for $5.00 a page. I will announce when it is live. Thank you!
Now, I am off to snuggle against my pirate coffee mug and sink beneath a heated blanket.
Edit: I added a snippet of Hoist the Colors – I hope you enjoy it!
With my pirates novel in publishing limbo, I started a new story set in late 19th century England. The summary so far is Amelia Holloway is at a boarding school in France when she receives word of her parents’ death. Her godfather, Harold Mendenhall, a man she barely remembers, has become her new guardian and bringing her back to London. Before Amelia arrives, the Dean of Oxford is murdered and all of Harold’s research notes are stolen. After Christmas, he is planning an archaeological dig to Egypt and has plans of taking Amelia with him.
On the boat ride over, Amelia meets a handsome Egyptian named Samir Mubarak and after a dead body is found, she isn’t sure whether to trust him or declare him a murderer.
That is all I have so far. I have mapped out the rough parts of my Amelia blockage and planned the Egypt trip to come at the end of the story so the following installment would have her there. Recently, I have been watching Upstairs Downstairs and even though the story line begins about 1903, the ideas are a continuation from the previous century. The series ran for 10 years (I think) and well worth watching if you enjoyed Gosford Park. Tells the story of a (post) Victorian family from the view of their servants. I love it. Leaning on the plot from Northanger Abbey and Victorian Society for Amelia, I want to bring the era into the story. The mannerisms, the etiquette, the expectations and the downfalls of marrying for love and position. Also, the poverty and class distinction.
Amelia Goes to Egypt is now Season of Mists.
Today is Friday and I am very much looking forward to seeing my sister and father. Even though I will be driving without my Zune and a restless two year old in the backseat, the trip is always relaxing and breathtaking.
Nevada is truly one of the most beautiful places to live. Like many, I did not always believe this. Growing up in California, I used to think green = beautiful. Green trees and grass simply meant health and vitality. You can imagine my reaction when I drove through the barren desert of Carson City. For miles, the eye fell upon craggy hills and desolate nothing. Trees could not obscure the endless view and the feeling of desolation surrounding my little gold Saturn.
Remnants of the past still linger, half buried and rusted into uselessness. It wasn’t until college that the strange openness began to grow on me. Only here can you look back upon your past and then ahead to where you want to take yourself next; stand upon hollow ground where men sweated and bled to make a new life amidst the threat of extinction.
Driving down 395, through desert and mountain bases, you feel small, insignificant and filled with the desire to change that.
