Saturday, March 21, 2015

Lovely 5 star review for The Diamond Legacy

 of 1 people found the following review helpful
Format:Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
I've been waiting for The Diamond Legacy to be written, ever since I read The Diamond Cross. This book continues the story of Brenton and Heather Emery, as well and both of their families, and many friends, both old and new. They now run a very successful hotel and casino in Saratoga Springs, NY. Just as they're about to start a family, Heather is offered the job of her dreams in San Francisco. Her decision to make the move to the West Coast leaves Brenton home to run the hotel and new vaudeville hall. Both are faced with temptations that might make or break their marriage.
It's wonderful to see what happens to many of the characters from the first book. While it's not necessary, since Ms. Berroa does a find job of introducing the people and their connections, it helps to read the two books in order. They tell a heartwarming story of a family coming to America, becoming successful, yet keeping their Hungarian heritage alive.
As in her other books, Ms. Berroa uses historical details to keep her stories true to the times.
I highly recommend The Diamond Legacy, as well as The Diamond Cross. They are the kind of books you just can't put down, and will be sorry to see end. They also make you want to eat some great Hungarian food!

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Rejection

Rejection is not a pretty word, but unfortunately, it’s one everyone has to deal with on some level in their lifetime. When we’re young, it begins in school. The popular kids reject us. The coach doesn’t pick us for a team. We aren’t chosen for the cool sorority or fraternity. The date we want to take to the prom goes with someone else. Friends tell us to go take a hike. We all grow up with rejection.
But we survive. Hopefully, it cushions us for even more rejection in our adult lives.

 Some of us follow dreams of becoming authors, only to discover a new rejection and one that cuts to the very core. Manuscripts and outlines get rejected by agents and publishers. When I started out as a serious writer in the 1970’s, I received enough rejection letters to paper my living room walls. Each one was like a knife wound to the heart. The question is, do we lick our wounds and move on? Or do we bury our heads in the sand and vow there will be no more submissions? Writing is a world unto itself and writers are a breed of their own. Writers write because they have a story to tell and want to share it with the world. Rejection is merely an element of the writing process--and we soon learn to be tough and take the no’s and make them into yes’s.

Many rejection letters, unfortunately, are form letters and show no emotion from the sender or indicate that they even read the submission. Others offer critical advice laced with encouragement. These are the “good” rejections. The ones we learn from. But they are few and far between. There are caring and nurturing agents and publishers, and there are the jaded who lack empathy and put the almighty dollar before all else.


Rejection can make or break a writer. It’s all about how we perceive adversity.  If we treat it as a learning experience, it’ll make us strong and determined, and in the end, a far better writer.  So consider rejection not as a negative, but as a positive and you may find your dream of becoming a published author is only a submission away.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Read all about an exciting re-release of a fantastic book

Today I'm hosting romance author Jennifer Wilck and highlighting the re-release of her book: Skin Deep. Jennifer is a friend and fellow New Jersey author, and we are exchanging blogs today. You can read all about my new release (The Diamond Legacy) on her blog as well as read about her book release on mine. Please peruse this page and feel free to leave a comment. 


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Thanks so much for hosting me here today, Joanne, and helping me celebrate the re-release of my contemporary romance, Skin Deep.

Skin Deep was the second book I wrote, but the first one accepted for publication. With its re-release, I now have all my books published by the same house, which, for an anal person like me, is extremely satisfying.

This time around, I have a new cover, which I LOVE! It’s a departure from my normal covers, but I think it represents well the tone of the story. What do you think?



The story has also been tightened up and edited better, which is gratifying for me as a writer.

It’s a gritty and emotional read and was tough to write. Anytime you discuss domestic or child abuse, it’s heart wrenching. Both my hero and heroine overcome a lot in their past to finally reach their happily ever after, and I hope you enjoy reading their story.

                Here’s the blurb:


The last thing Valerie needs, after escaping an abusive marriage to an alcoholic and rebuilding her life, is a broody, secretive, standoffish man. But that’s exactly what she gets when she becomes a makeup artist on the set of a hit sitcom and draws the attention of the series’ star.

John Samuels hides a terrible past—a life of abuse and neglect. A successful acting career and the affection and support of cast, crew and friends, does nothing to convince him that he is anything other than an unlovable monster.

Will he learn that the life he’s been living has been built on a lie or will he be doomed to repeat the sins of his father?


And here's the excerpt:



That night, after all the scenes had been shot, Valerie waited for everyone to leave. She didn’t want to answer questions or receive pity.
She arranged and rearranged drawers and tools. The trailer contained three stations, each with its own make-up chair. A long table ran down one wall, with plenty of drawers for storage space. Well-lit mirrors hung above the table. Unable to find anything else to do, and convinced by the silence that everyone had to have left, she took out her keys to lock up. She jumped as a knock sounded at the door, the trailer rattled, and a head peeked in.
“Valerie?”
“Oh, hi, John.” She expelled a deep breath and willed her heart to slow its frantic beat. “Do you need something?”
“No.” He entered and stood by the door. John Samuels played the lead. At almost six foot three, he dwarfed the trailer and had to tip his head to fit. He folded his muscular arms across his chest and spread his feet apart. “Michelle told me you were not joining us tonight. I thought I would see if I could change your mind.”
Valerie rolled her eyes. “She is persistent.”
“You noticed.” John’s dark eyes twinkled. His mouth widened with a ghost of a smile. Valerie tried not to gasp.
He reminded her of a rugged cowboy—broad shouldered, with a prominent brow, dark piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and a cleft chin. When he smiled, even a slight trace of one, his eyes looked like liquid velvet and his dimples twinkled like stars in the night sky. A five-o’clock shadow covered his cheeks. Her fingers itched to brush against their rough texture, to tease his mouth into a full-blown grin.
“So, what can I say to make you join us?”
As he leaned against the wall in well-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that left nothing to the imagination, Valerie’s mind said, “Sleep with me.” Heat crept up her neck, over her cheeks, and continued to the roots of her hair. A thin sheen of sweat dampened the space between her breasts. She felt the sudden urge to fan herself, like a damsel in distress in an old B-movie. Instead, she ignored her traitorous thoughts. Her balled fist pressed into her tight stomach.
“Tonight, not even chocolate will change my mind.”
She didn’t exactly lie. She had no intention of going to the bar, or of sleeping with him, no matter how her thoughts might try to sabotage her good intentions. She’d been fooled by surface finery before, and it had almost killed her. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
“I will remember that,” he promised. “But next time you will not get off so easy.” His eyes bored into hers for a moment, and then he turned on his heel and left.
* * * *
True to his word, John arrived the following day prepared for battle. With a cursory knock on the door, he dangled a bag of M&Ms inside the trailer, but snatched it back before she could grab them. “We are going out for pizza. I will pick you up in ten minutes.” Before she could answer, he walked out.
Valerie shrugged as she finished her work. The new Valerie never allowed other people to make decisions for her, but she’d practically handed John a permission slip. And, he had M&M’s. How could she refuse?
Ten minutes later, he returned, ushered her out the door and down the steps. Although he didn’t touch her, she could imagine the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, and feel the gentle puff of his breath against her hair. The angle of his body steered her toward the others in the parking lot as if he had taken her by the hand and dragged her with him. An invisible electric charge pulled her. Or maybe it was his Dial-soap scent. That scent—soap and man—made her stomach flip flop. Her uncontrollable reaction to him disturbed her, especially since he appeared unaffected.
He remained silent, strode toward their meeting place, and studied his surroundings as if he expected someone to pop out of the shadows and yell, “Boo!”
Then she saw the brown bag of M&Ms sticking out of his white shirt pocket. Before he could stop her, she reached around and grabbed them, opened the bag and popped three in her mouth.
“Hey, those are mine!” He reached for the bag, but not fast enough to retrieve them.
“Not anymore.” As she danced away from him, she stuck another handful in her mouth.
He brought his hand up to his heart, as if she had wounded him deeply, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. Valerie had all she could do not to burst out laughing.
“You did not have to take them, you know. I was planning to give them to you later.” He pouted and his dark hair fell across his brow, but not before Valerie saw a flash of a smile turn the corners of his mouth up.
“Oh really? When?”
“After dinner, of course. I would not want to spoil your appetite.”




I hope you enjoy it and if you do read it, I’d love you to post a review or let me know what you thought. I can be reached at:

Twitter:  @JWilck.
Blog (Fried Oreos):www.jenniferwilck.blogspot.com
Heroines With Hearts contributor: http://www.heroineswithhearts.blogspot.comFront Porch Saturdays contributor:http://sandrasookoo.wordpress.com.




Monday, March 2, 2015

Author Denisea Kampe is celebrating.....

I've exciting news from a fellow Rebel Ink Press author. Denisea Kampe has something to celebrate! Read on and see what it is......


Five Years and I Still Love It (And Now…It’s Only $0.99!)  


This month mark’s the five year anniversary of signing that first contract and I can still remember the excitement and dancing around the room. I also remember the shock factor of all the publishing world actually entails and later the oh crap feeling when I realized my first baby, The Executive Officer’s Wife, wasn’t all it could have been. Over the course of the past five years, The Executive Officer’s Wife has undergone some serious editing and is now in its second edition, a MUCH better rendition and telling of Libby and Chase’s story. Not only has it undergone major surgery, it managed to spawn a few questions from my readers, like what the heck happened to…fill in a secondary character’s name here. I’m happy to announce, some of my readers are going to be VERY happy to find out, a series has been spawned off The Executive Officer’s Wife and the first book, Parallax, is in its final stages before going off to the editor. I’m also happy to say, I still love my first baby and I still love writing.
The good news is, if you haven’t read The Executive Officer’s Wife, now is a great time! In celebration of its five year anniversary, it’s on sale at Amazon for Kindle for $0.99 for the entire month of March.
Target: Libby Calhoun. She’s independent and strong-willed, the daughter of a near infamous Marine Corps sniper. Libby’s been raised by the resident housekeeper, has learned to take care of herself over the years and doesn’t take crap off anyone. She’s also sassy and pretty darn cute. After one failed marriage she’s not in the market for love, a husband or any semblance of children. One night of hot sex should do it but that pesky situation with her father is making that near impossible. 

Security Agent: Chase Wayland. He’s not looking for love either but his golden-eyes sure can lure a girl in. Chase is a former Marine turned owner of his own security firm. He also has a failed marriage under his belt and trust isn’t in his vocabulary. There’s only one way in Chase’s world and that’s his way, whether anyone else agrees or not. 

Can these two live under the same roof after the incident? Chase seems to think so, as long as they ignore each other, play by his strict 'business only' policy and he makes Libby hate him. Libby thinks so, too, but she wants to do things her way. And her way means Chase’s resolve to be a good guy will be stretched to its limits, especially when she takes to the town in her red boots…
Please enjoy an excerpt…
“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you red boots would get you in trouble?” a familiar deep voice whispered into her hair.
Whirling around, her eyes met Chase’s.  “Yeah, he tried to warn me several times. Obviously it didn’t stick.”
Grabbing the now full tray, she left the station.  She deposited the officer’s drinks on their table and returned to pick up a couple of drafts for another crew while Chase leaned on the bar watching her every move.
“How long did it take to figure out where I went?” she asked, taking a couple of napkins from the pile beside her tray.
“About as long as it took for me to follow you here,” Chase told her, pushing his Stetson back.
“You were behind me?  Here I thought I might have actually made a clean getaway.” She trotted off again and on the third trip back saw him talking Murray.
Great, they’ll probably band together on this.
“It’s probably going to be hard to get that jar filled on this side of the bar,” Chase said, his attention back on her. His eyes roamed her from head to toe leaving a path of flames licking along Libby’s skin. She hoped her outfit was driving him crazy.  “Need any help?”
“Not from you,” she snapped.  It was then she noticed Trent and Phil at the end of the bar watching with what seemed to her to be pure amusement. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.  “Kandy, can you take this one out for me?”
Libby left the tray and turning on her heel, she headed for the karaoke stage.  Grabbing the microphone that started her troubles with Chase in the first place, she returned to the bar and climbed on top of it.
“Good evening gentlemen,” Libby said in the sultriest voice she could summon.  Seductively strolling along the bar’s length, she was greeted with whistles and barks. “You all know my bodyguard by now I’m sure.” She pointed at Chase with the mic. “A few weeks ago he answered a challenge to fill my jar.  Well tonight he’s challenged me.  He seems to think I can’t fill it working the floor.”
Booing and groaning erupted as Libby watched Chase scowl at her and adjust his Stetson even higher. He looked up at her and took a visible breath.
“Last time I believe you all wasted your hard earned pay so he’d be able to, what was it? Dance with me, I believe?  That won’t be happening this time.  Tonight I’m up for auction.  It’s payday, fellas, so dig deep.  Whoever wins won’t be paying for someone else to hold me.” Libby finished her little speech and smirked at Chase.
Murray shook his head and Chase took a seat on the stool next to where Libby stood.  Murmurs ran through the bar as guys counted, and in some cases pooled, their funds.  She knew not one of them that would actually take her up on the holding her bit except maybe the new Lieutenant who didn’t know any better.
“Now then, who’ll start?”  Silence ensued.  “Come on, don’t be shy. You all know what this jar’s for.  Okay.  How about fifty dollars?  Anyone?” Libby prompted, shaking her hips and licking her lips playfully.
“I’ve got fifty,” one of the enlisted men shouted from a corner.
“A hundred….one-fifty over here…” And it went on and on until finally the new Lieutenant stood on his table and exuberantly shouted, “One thousand dollars!”
Everyone grew silent.  Libby looked down at Chase and saw the agitation churning in his eyes.
Standing up, he stared Milner down as he crossed his arms over his puffed up chest and calmly proclaimed, “Five thousand dollars.”
Libby’s mouth fell open and she dropped her hands to her sides.  No one could top that.  He wasn’t supposed to win.
When all the mumbling died down and no one challenged Chase’s outlandish bid, he coolly turned, took her by the waist and lifted her down from the bar.  “I’ll go to the bank in the morning and get the money.”  He slipped two fingers in her front pocket retrieving her car keys, burning her with the golden inferno in his eyes.  Finding them after grazing the edge of her hip where her panties stopped and her skin started, he tossed them at Phil.  “Drive her car home.”
Leaning over, Chase placed his shoulder at her waist, grabbed her by the legs, and hoisted her up and over his back.  With her dangling over his muscular shoulders, begging to be put down after realizing her plan had backfired, he strode across the floor and out the door.  A sickening round of ooh-rah’s followed them.
You can get your Kindle copy of The Executive Officer’s Wife for only $0.99 through the end of March at: http://tinyurl.com/p3yzqgt
I’d like to thank my hostess today and thank all of her readers for stopping by! You can find me at my blog, Ubiquitous Musings, at Script Chics, or on Facebook.
Happy reading!
Denisea Kampe

Writing one realmantic moment at a time…