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Archive for September, 2017

BLOGWORDS – 30 September 2017 – NEWSLETTER – a little birdie told me

3o September 2017

Edition V


 

Robin’s Nest, Stories by Design

 

 

 

The blog is semi-suspended, on hold, AKA sadly partially neglected. I’ve read a few posts lately about over commitment, one specifically addressing the blog VS writing deadlines. And since I’ve such a tall order with this series, the blog is the most immediate way I can scale back. Temporarily, though. After the final book releases (and my second knee surgery) the blog will be back up and running. And I don’t ever plan to slam myself with such a grueling (okay, maybe not actually grueling… ) schedule.

 

Newsletter Sign Up…

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, again, still… OY!! (see above, re grueling schedule) Among other things, the mail list tutorial is languishing. So for now, Little Birdie is a special edition blog post. Hopefully by next-next (‘cause I said that last time) edition (31 December) I’ll have that pesky little tutorial mastered, and sign up button properly displayed on the blog.

 

Roll Call

 

 

 

Tell me who you are and where you’re at!

 

The Bird House Book Club

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I am / have been reading!

Count Me In by Mikal Dawn

Acting Married by Victorine Lieske

With No Reservations by Laurie Tomlinson

Second Impressions by Pepper Basham

A (nearly) Normal Nanny by Krista Phillips

Mowed Over by Christina Coryell

An Informal Affair by Heather Gray

A Heart Restored by Elizabeth Maddrey

Many Sparrows by Lori Benton

Unleashing Love by Jessica Patch

Rush of Wings by Kristen Heitzmann

The Covering by Dana Pratola

Critical Condition by Richard Mabry

* Irkadura by Ksenia Anske

* Rosehead by Ksenia Anske

* Not Christian Fiction, and not appropriate for sensitive readers.

 

What are you reading?

 

Friends of Authors Society

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, so it’s not an actual society—although maybe it should be. You know, with levels of support.

Who knows the best way to show your love for your favorite authors? (I’m one, right? Your favorite?) Besides the obvious of buying and reading my books, leaving a review on Amazon tickles their calculations and formulas and moves my books up in their ranks, which in turn means more peeps see my books, which means more peeps are likely to buy them.

There are other things you can do, as well. Suggest my books to your library or book club. Tell your friends, buy gift copies to give to your friends. Heck, tell ME how much you love ‘em!

 

 

The Long Shadows of Summer

The southern town of Saisons lies at the crossroads between North and South, progressive and genteel antebellum life. Between East and West, between history and heritage, and new frontiers. Downton Abbey meets Gone With the Wind.

 

It’s 1912, in a world where slavery is dying and women’s rights are rising, and four young women who once shared a bond—and experienced a tragedy—question their own truths.

 

Mercedes has always been an avid reader and devours each new Sherlock Holmes mystery as soon as she gets her hands on them. When one of her friends comes to her, Mercedes vows to keep Simone’s secrets and uncover the truth.

 

But as Mercedes plays detective to her friends’ questions, she discovers something far more shocking—she herself is not who she thought she was.

 

The Long Shadows of Summer released in August, and is available on amazon

https://www.amazon.com/Long-Shadows-summer-Seasons-Book-ebook/dp/B07569MM8S/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

Leave a comment or email me at robinemason212@gmail.com for a sample chapter.

 

Coming in November

The southern town of Saisons lies at the crossroads between North and South, progressive and genteel antebellum life. Between East and West, between history and heritage, and new frontiers. Downton Abbey meets Gone With the Wind.

 

It’s 1912, in a world where slavery is dying and women’s rights are rising, and four young women who once shared a bond—and experienced a tragedy—question their own truths.

 

Scarlett was the shrinking violet in the group. Faithful to her friends, and hiding secrets of her own. When Mercedes steps in to rescue her, she unknowlingly plucks the thread that unravels Scarlett’s whole world.

 

But as Scarlett strives to hold fast to what is familiar the fabric of her life continues to come undone and secrets that are best kept hidden are exposed.

 

 

Seasons is ONE | GIANT | STORY, told by four main characters, each with their own contribution and perspective to the story. One set of characters, one fictional setting, one timeframe to research (1912 – 1913.) And it continues with The Tilting Leaves of Autumn.

 

COVER REVEAL 10 NOVEMBER

RELEASES 30 NOVEMBER

 

Leave a comment with your email for a copy of the first chapter. If you don’t want your email public, send it to me privately at robinemason212@gmail.com.

 

Manifesto and Author Tag

The short version is,

“Stories for Christians to see or remember the ugly effects of the lies of the enemy, and for unbelievers to see the beauty of the Truth of the Word of God.”

 

And I’ve reworded my author tag:

“the battle for identity, one story at a time.” Many thanks to Amy McNew for brainstorming with me! New banner to accompany this… when I have a minute to do it.

 

All in the Family

Earlier this year, a friend suggested I start a GoFundMe campaign to get my license and a car, which I did. Got my license, now I need that car…

To read more of my story, or to help a gal out (donate and/or share) here’s the link:

 

https://funds.gofundme.com/dashboard/robin-needs-a-car

 

 

 

Chatcha’ll next time.

 

 

Got questions? Email me at robinemason212@gmail.com.

 

 

 

Here endeth Edition V of

Thank you for subscribing!

 

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

A Little Birdie Told Me, #newsletter, Stories by Design, Roll Call, The Bird House Book Club, Friends of Authors Society, Seasons, Manifesto and Author Tag

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BLOGWORDS – Saturday 30 September 2017 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

“We never did play tea parties like other girls. We played detective. Because that’s what Mercedes read, detective stories. And she was our Sherlock Holmes.

As children, our ventures were harmless enough. Until the day Simone fell in the river and disappeared.”

“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”

Two of those 2705 words are an author’s most favoritest words to type –

Final count for The Tilting Leaves of Autumn –

* subject to editing…

And in my September writing blitz, I wrote…

…with the first two days Fetch-n-Forward, and four days of AUTHOR DOWN, so I accomplished that in three weeks’ time!!

And now, I’mma do it again!!!

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemSepWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Woods of Spring

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BLOGWORDS – Friday 29 Thursday 7 September 2017 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

“We never did play tea parties like other girls. We played detective. Because that’s what Mercedes read, detective stories. And she was our Sherlock Holmes.

As children, our ventures were harmless enough. Until the day Simone fell in the river and disappeared.”

still in recovery mode from the folderol last week! It was good but I’m plum wore out! That said, I’m soooo close to “those” two little words…

“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemSepWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Woods of Spring

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BLOGWORDS – Thursday 28 September 2017 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

“We never did play tea parties like other girls. We played detective. Because that’s what Mercedes read, detective stories. And she was our Sherlock Holmes.

As children, our ventures were harmless enough. Until the day Simone fell in the river and disappeared.”

“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemSepWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Woods of Spring

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BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 27 September 2017 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

“We never did play tea parties like other girls. We played detective. Because that’s what Mercedes read, detective stories. And she was our Sherlock Holmes.

As children, our ventures were harmless enough. Until the day Simone fell in the river and disappeared.”

 

 

Oh, and there’s this eensy weensy milestone I hit last night…

 

 

“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemSepWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Woods of Spring

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BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 27 September 2017 – WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK EXCERPT – THE LONG SHADOWS OF SUMMER

WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK EXCERPT – THE LONG SHADOWS OF SUMMER

 

#WreadingWednesday is back! But with a change to the format—because I post reviews almost every week and participate in First Line Fridays, #FLF, #WreadingWednedsay is now dedicated to ‘wreading’ bits and excerpts from my books!

Mon cher.” I hadn’t heard Elle come in the room. “You had us all so worried.”

I laid le bebe in her cradle—Elle did not reach for her—and sat again in the Queen Anne chair.

“I rang for tea.” She seemed… reticent, which was highly out of character.

I tilted my head and puckered my brows. She had something to say, I knew she did. And I waited.

“Violet and her friends came to visit with you yesterday.”

I hung my head. My absence had alarmed everyone—it alarmed me. “Tante…”

She stopped me with her hand, upraised, then patted my knee before tucking her delicate wrinkled fingers under my chin. She lifted my head.

Je connais.” She caught my gaze with her own sparkling eyes. “I know.”

Did she mean…

“Violet, the dear, didn’t notice your letters.” Her gaze shifted to the other side of the room. There on the table sat the trunk.

I heaved a great sigh of relief as tears of squeezed from my eyes. “Mon Dieu.”

“She bolted from the room, crying out, ‘She’s gone! She’s missing!’” Elle rose and retrieved the chest, set it on the small table between the chairs.  “I knew, of course, this was your cherished possession. And while the rest of them were all in arms—near hysteria I might add—I came quietly to your room to hide the chest.”

“You knew what was in it?”

Madame shook her head. “Non, mon chèrie. I did not. But I knew what Monsieur Gouin said to me.”

I leaned forward, spilling my tea, my eyes pleading with her to tell me.

“He told me the Marquis was a sad old man. He had come to his repentance and gave his life to serve the church. But the most sad thing was his children had all abandoned him and his dying wish was to see them again.”

“But he…”

“Oui. He died without ever hearing from them again.” Elle was shaken by the story. “The Marquis, Monsieur Jacques, his last wish was to restore his son—ton pére—to his title.”

Words scattered about my brain like leaves in a storm. The poor man. The wealthy dying poor man.

Except that now he was gone and his wealth belonged to… me.

“You understand what this means?”

I met the question in her eyes. I grasped the concept, oui, but what it meant to my life, to my family—that I could not comprehend.

“You are no longer a servant, Madame.” Tante’s blue eyes sparkled like sapphires. “You are a lady, a Marquise.”

Except that such titles held no meaning in this country—would I have to go to Alés? Leave all I knew and loved here, in Saisons?

“But this is my home…”

“Oh, mon chèrie.” She patted my knee again and took a sip of her tea. “You would not have to leave. It is your money to do as you wish, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oh, Tante, I don’t know… I don’t know how to be a lady. All I’ve ever been is a servant. I run the household, I take care of… of… others. I… I…”

Absurdité.” She set her tea cup firmly on the table and took my hands in hers. “You are the lady you believe yourself to be. You have seen Vivienne, n’est-ce pas? You have observed her and you know how she carries herself.”

I took in the room, seeing the elegance of it with different eyes. Not as surfaces to be dusted, or linens to be stripped and cleaned, carpets to be beaten—or vacuumed with the new machine.

Now I saw the beauty of it, the carvings of the bedposts, the simple pattern of the wallpaper, the luxury of the green and ivory carpet beneath our feet. I wiggled my toes against the plush fibers and felt the softness, and smiled at the tickle I felt.

“You see, don’t you?” Tante waved her hand across the room. “You see it? The beauty of the room.”

How did she know?

“The design, the care in creating the place for rest, for sleep.” She winked at me. “For intimité.”

My cheeks bloomed with color that Eléanore François Bouvier would say such a thing. That she should think such a thing.

“I am old, mon jeune femme, but I am not so innocent as you might think.” She poured tea, for herself and me, took two biscuits and bit into one. “I have had the lovers, oh oui, Jean Albert when I was a young woman. He was killed and his brother took me as his wife. I loved him, truly, and he was good to me. We had our children together. I was a good wife to him, and a good lover.”

Elle paused to eat her biscuits, delighted at my stunned reaction.

I didn’t like to think of others—anyone, being a lover. I thought of Simone, naturally, and I knew she and Enyeto were… happy lovers. I thought of poor Scarlett, I knew she and Donal were happy, and surely they must be—

I could not think this way. I did not like to think of Tante—Madame—as anyone’s lover. It was too personal, too private.

“Do not be ashamed, jeune femme.” The teacup made a soft clink as she set it on the saucer. “Does not even the Holy Scripture speak of love of a man and wife?”

I had never thought about it. Certainly I had read passages, and heard sermons on fidelity. But never had I thought of Holy Scripture speaking to physical love.

“And do you not think this is a dear room, a place that beckons the intimité?”

Images of Vivi and Henry, exchanging glances, whispering as they passed in the hallway, laughs at the breakfast table. More than once I had witnessed their affection as surely as I had my own parents—and as surely as Mikal and I shared a passing gesture of love.

“You do see it, n’es pas. You see the importance of the beauty, of the cleaning.” She set the cup and saucer on the table. “And you know.” She tapped a bony finger to my head. “You know how to make it so.”

“But to act as a lady?” Surely I had been pampered these past weeks. But in every moment I had known I would return to my station. Even now, I felt the time was near to go back to the cottage. Except that now…. “I’m no lady, Tante. A piece of paper does not make it so.”

Non, the paper, non. But notre Dieu, He does. He sees you as a lady, indeed as royalty. Did not He make the way for you to belong to Him? If notre Dieu believes you are royalty, who can say otherwise?”

 

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Wreading Wednesday, Featured Book Except, The Long Shadows of Summer, Seasons, Chapter One, Seasons, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Winds of Spring

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BLOGWORDS – Tuesday 26 September 2017 – SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

SPECIAL EDITION – REMSEPWRIMO

“We never did play tea parties like other girls. We played detective. Because that’s what Mercedes read, detective stories. And she was our Sherlock Holmes.

As children, our ventures were harmless enough. Until the day Simone fell in the river and disappeared.”

“I’ve always had voices—er, stories in my head. I once said I should write them all down so someone could write them someday. I had no idea at the time that someone was me!”

 

 

http://robinemason.com

https://robinsnest212.wordpress.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Robin-E-Mason-Author-Artist/224223274404877
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-E.-Mason/e/B00MR5IQ9S
https://twitter.com/amythyst212
http://www.pinterest.com/amythyst212/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/108929134414473292325

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7808042.Robin_E_Mason

 

 

“the battle for identity, one story at a time”

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, #RemSepWriMo, Seasons, The Long Shadows of Summer, The Tilting Leaves of Autumn, The Silent Song of Winter, The Whispering Woods of Spring

Read Full Post »

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