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Tell Again Tuesday

A blog series where we shamelessly share posts from others that we have enjoyed.

 


 

The Artist Who Dressed As She Pleased

By Caroline Warfield

Rosa Bonheur dressed in trousers when women were still trussed in corsets. She required permission from the prefect of police to do so, but she was unapologetic about her choices. She lived her life as she pleased. She said, “The epithets of imbeciles have never bothered me.” Among the great Victorian examples of eccentricity Bonheur stands out as someone whose personal life and work intertwined in ways that benefited both.

Best know as a painter and sculptor of animals, she grew up in a household notable for its affiliation with Saint-Simonianism, a . . .

For the rest of the blog go to:

History Imagined blog

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Friday Feature

Focuses on

Highland Savior

By

Sarah Hoss

 

Sarah has agreed to sit in the hot seat today and answer a few questions. Are you ready?

Yes, I am and thanks for inviting me.

Please tell the readers about the book that is being showcased today.

I’m writing about three Macpherson brothers and HIGHLAND SAVIOR is about the second brother, Hamish.

How did you come up with the concept for this book?

I started writing Dreams of the Highlander and once the story was finished, I knew I wanted to continue it and give each brother their own story. I love time travel, so that was installed as well.

What are you working on now?

I am working on book 3, James’s story.

Okay, now for a few harder questions. Do you write in more than one genre? If so, why?

I do. I write Historical paranormal romance and contemporary romance. I had always planned on writing in the first, but the latter came to me by accident. I wrote a novella for a contest and it became published. I continue to write contemporary novellas so I can have something to put out between the novels and so that I would have a broader audience.

Accidents can be good then. What’s the first book, in the genre you write in, that you remember reading?

I remember reading the Grey Eagle series by Janelle Taylor. My older sister lent them to me.

Now let’s try some personal questions. We like to travel. What is the farthest place from your home that you have visited?

Abaco Island, Bahamas

The most fun place?

Disney World in Florida

That’s one of our favorite places as well. How about the most relaxing place?

Winterpark Colorado

The most historic place?

Gettysburgh, Pennsylvania

You came through that fine now let’s try quickies. We’ll give you a category and you give us a one word answer, and yes we know for a writer that is hard, so as close to one word as possible. Ready?

Yes.

Favorite food? Filet mingon and a baked potato

Favorite singer or band? Journey

Favorite season? Tie between fall and winter

Favorite flower? daisy

Favorite color? green

Mug or teacup? mug

See this is really easy. Now name three interesting things most people don’t know about you.

1) I took tap and jazz dance classes from the age of 6-22. I traveled all over the Midwest and down to Florida for competitions and I also participated as an extra in the Pan Am Opening Ceremonies back in the 80’s.

2) I hate cherry flavored drinks

3) I am a “bonus” baby being 13, 12, and 7 years younger than my siblings.

Donald’s mother made him take dancing lessons when he was younger but never to the extent of competition. Let’s get back to some book questions since you write in a mix of several genres.

What are the unusual paranormal elements in your book? Our books have shape shifters with the ability to shift to more than one persona.

I love to read and write about time travel and that is the paranormal element to my books.

Your books also have a historical element. How do you do your historical research? (books, travel, internet, reenactments)

I go to reenactments and a lot of research on the internet.

Plus you write in the time travel genre and there are no reenactments to visit. So, what’s your favorite time travel book or movie?

The Outlander Series by Diana Gabaldon.

It’s been a pleasure having you here today, Sarah. As you say goodbye, can you leave the readers with an encapsulation of your life’s philosophy? (a quote, a verse, a precept you live by or have tried to instill in your children?)

Those who mind, don’t matter, and those who matter, don’t mind. Dr. Suess.

If you’ve enjoyed finding out about the author take a look at the following for some idea of what her book is like.

Blurb for Highland Savior

Hamish Macpherson is surrounded by turmoil: an arsonist is on the loose, he’s in the middle of a feud with a local clansman, and just as he’s trying to save his sister from a burning cottage, he appears in the middle of a foreign living room three hundred years past his own time.

Gillian Meadows thinks she’s self-sufficient and can handle anything until she witnesses a murder in the alley next to an Olde City tavern. In a desperate run to escape being the next victim, she stumbles into a wiccan store and accepts the help of the shop owner. But one misspoken word of a simple incantation can change everything.

Neither world is safe, but Hamish can better protect Gillian if he returns to his own time. Gillian has no choice but to go with him if she wants to escape the danger closing in. Little do they know that his past could be the biggest threat of all to their future.Highland Savior

Buy Link Highland Savior

http://amzn.com/B01188MS0W

AUTHOR BIO:Hoss,Sarah

Sarah Hoss grew up believing she could try anything and if she set her mind to it, she would succeed. Sixteen years of dance lessons, Cheerleading, and school plays proved to her that her parent’s words rang true. Writing was no exception. Reading the Outlander series made her fall in love with time travels and the historical places books could take her. Always a child with a vivid imagination, she realized as an adult, she could put her imagination to good use and began writing. Marrying her very own hero, they live in Indiana in the town where she grew up. They have three beautiful children and one hyper dog. When Sarah isn’t writing, she enjoys gardening, camping, and watching her kids’ play sports.

Where to find Sarah-

Website- http://www.sarahhoss.com/

Blog- http://www.heart-of-romance.blogspot.com/

Twitter- http://www.twitter.com/SarahHoss1

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sarah-Hoss/237219983049037

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Thurs Thread book shelfs2

Today we welcome

Linda Bennett Pennell

author of

Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel

Catherine has read this one and recommends it. If you like your romantic elements behind closed doors, then this is a good book for you. Romance comes through clear but this book is about the story and it’s unlike any other story she’s read. Well written, conceived and beautifully executed.

20131218 AlCaponeAtTheBlancheHotel_550

Genre: Historical fiction with romantic elements

Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel tells a story of lives unfolding in different centuries, but linked and irrevocably altered by a series of murders in 1930.

Lake City, Florida, June, 1930: Al Capone checks in for an unusually long stay at the Blanche Hotel, a nice enough joint for an insignificant little whistle stop. The following night, young Jack Blevins witnesses a body being dumped heralding the summer of violence to come. One-by-one, people controlling county vice activities swing from KKK ropes. No moonshine distributor, gaming operator, or brothel madam, black or white, is safe from the Klan’s self-righteous vigilantism. Jack’s older sister Meg, a waitress at the Blanche, and her fiancé, a sheriff’s deputy, discover reasons to believe the lynchings are cover for a much larger ambition than simply ridding the county of vice. Someone, possibly backed by Capone, has secret plans for filling the voids created by the killings. But as the body count grows and crosses burn, they come to realize this knowledge may get all of them killed.

Gainesville, Florida, August, 2011: Liz Reams, an up and coming young academic specializing in the history of American crime, impulsively moves across the continent to follow a man who convinces her of his devotion yet refuses to say the three simple words I love you. Despite entreaties of friends and family, she is attracted to edginess and a certain type of glamour in her men, both living and historical. Her personal life is an emotional roller coaster, but her career options suddenly blossom beyond all expectation, creating a very different type of stress. To deal with it all, Liz loses herself in her professional passion, original research into the life and times of her favorite bad boy, Al Capone. What she discovers about 1930’s summer of violence, and herself in the process, leaves her reeling at first and then changed forever.

Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

Saturday

June 14, 1930

O’Leno, Florida

Jack jammed a finger into each ear and swallowed hard. Any other time, he wouldn’t even notice the stupid sound. The river always sorta slurped just before it pulled stuff underground.

His stomach heaved again. Maybe he shouldn’t look either, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the circling current. When the head slipped under the water, the toe end lifted up. Slowly the tarpaulin wrapped body, at least that’s what it sure looked like, went completely vertical. It bobbed around a few times and finally gurgled its way down the sinkhole. Then everything went quiet . . . peaceful . . . crazily normal. Crickets sawed away again. An ole granddaddy bullfrog croaked his lonesomeness into the sultry midnight air.

Crouched in the shelter of a large palmetto clump, Jack’s muscles quivered and sweat rolled into his eyes, but he remained stock-still. His heart hammered like he had just finished the fifty yard dash, but that was nothing to what Zeke was probably feeling. He was still just a little kid in lots of ways.

When creeping damp warmed the soles of Jack’s bare feet, he grimaced and glanced sideways. Zeke looked back with eyes the size of saucers and mouthed the words I’m sorry. Jack shook his head then wrinkled his nose as the odor of ammonia and damp earth drifted up. He’d always heard that fear produced its own peculiar odor, but nobody ever said how close you had to be to actually smell it. He prayed you had to be real close; otherwise, he and Zeke were in big trouble.

The stranger standing on the riverbank stared out over the water for so long Jack wondered if the man thought the body might suddenly come flying up out of the sinkhole and float back upriver against the current. Funny, the things that popped into your head when you were scared witless.

The man removed a rag from his pocket and mopped his face. He paused, looked upstream, then turned and stared into the surrounding forest. As his gaze swept over their hiding place, Jack held his breath and prayed, but he could feel Zeke’s chest rising and falling in ragged jerks so he slipped his hand onto Zeke’s arm. Under the gentle pressure of Jack’s fingers, Zeke’s muscles trembled and jumped beneath his soft ebony skin. When Zeke licked his lips and parted them like he was about to yell out, Jack clapped a hand over the open mouth and wrapped his other arm around Zeke’s upper body, pulling him close and holding him tight. Zeke’s heart pounded against the bib of his overalls like it might jump clean out of his chest.

With one final look ‘round at the river and forest, the stranger strode to the hand crank of a Model T. The engine caught momentarily, then spluttered and died. A stream of profanity split the quiet night. The crank handle jerked from its shaft and slammed back into place. More grinding and more swearing followed until the thing finally coughed to life for good and a car door slammed. Only then did Jack relax his hold on Zeke.

“I want outta here. I wanna go home,” Zeke whispered hoarsely.

Lucky Zeke. Before Meg left home to move into town, Jack would have felt the same way. Now he didn’t care if he ever went home.

Jack cocked an ear in the Ford’s direction. “Hush so I can listen. I think he’s gone, but we’re gonna belly crawl in the opposite direction just to be sure we ain’t seen.”

“Through that briar patch?  I ain’t got on no shoes or shirt.”

“Me neither. Come on. Don’t be such a baby.”

“I ain’t no baby,” Zeke hissed as he scrambled after Jack.

When the pine forest thinned out, Jack raised up on his knees for a look around. Without a word, Zeke jumped to his feet and started toward the road. Jack grabbed a strap on Zeke’s overalls and snatched him back onto his bottom.

“You taken complete leave of your senses?” Wiping sweat out of his eyes, Jack pushed his shaggy blonde hair to one side. “Check it out before you go bustin’ into the open.”

“Why you so bossy all the time? I ain’t stupid, ya know. Just cause you turned twelve don’t make you all growed up.”

Zeke’s lower lip stuck out, trembling a little. Whether it was from fear or anger, Jack wasn’t sure. Probably both. Peering into the night, he strained for the flash of headlights. Nothing but bright moonlight illuminated the road’s deep white sand. Finally confident that no vehicles were abroad, he grabbed Zeke’s hand and pulled him to his feet. With one final glance left, then right, they leapt onto the single lane track and ran like the devil was on their tails.

Books:

Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel now available from Soul Mate Publishing

Confederado do Norte  coming from Soul Mate in 2014

Links:

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLindaBennettPennell

Website:  http://www.lindapennell.com/

Twitter:  @LindaPennell

Buy link for Al Capone at the Blanche Hotel:  http://amzn.to/16qq3k5

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