BLOGWORDS – Thursday 31 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Thursday 31 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

“My world came to an end the day I jumped off Versailles.”

“The comforting words of dearest friends are a soothing balm to a jagged soul.”

 

SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

I wondered sometimes, how was ma mère. Was she doing well? Did she maintain her vile and lurid behaviors? Had her clandestine carryings-on caught up to her? Had she met her demise?

I wondered how would it be to see her again. And I wondered what would she think of being une grandmère. Would she adore my little girl, my Mercedes? Or would she loathe her as she loathed me?

Cece was sitting up now, and trying to crawl. Everything her little hands could grasp went into her mouth, including my own fingers. And her little teeth were sharp as razors.

Her smile was as bright as sunshine, and warmed my heart like nothing else; I had not known such encompassing love, not even with Yeto. His love held my heart, for certes.

But the love I bore for my child, it had changed me. I was at once sure of her place in my heart and terrified I might ruin her forever.

What if I was like Mamá? What if I became the monster I knew her to be? What if the sickness that plagued her—for surely it was a sickness; surely she wasn’t as she was by her own choice—what if it was in me? What if I carried the same sickness…

But non! Surely not. I had the love of a good man. Strong and good and caring. Surely, Yeto was passionate with me, loving me as I had never imagined. But never did he strike me. Barely had we spoken cross words.

The man was a saint. My heart did a little tumble in my chest, pitter pat, pitter pat, to think of the times I had doubted his love, his integrity—his intentions. Enyeto had stood by my side, reassuring me, affirming his love for me. Time and time again, constant, sure.

Even more remarkable were the times—so rare now—that I railed. On and on I cried and wept, ranting at the behaviors of men. The abuses I had seen, the intimacies I had been privy to. And my husband stood quietly by my side, holding my hand or stroking my hair, waiting for the storm to subside. He spoke loving words to me, his soothing words a balm, healing to my heart and soul. And to my memories.

Memories that were now faded, but a dim shadow, cloaked away with the ghosts of other memories. Memories of a happy time. Memories of years before Walden Plantation. Memories of…

 

Amidst the clamor of confusion, can she hear the whisper of her memories?

 

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.

 

Simone Dubois’ life was unraveling. All she had known and held dear was gone from her. At ten, all she wanted was to escape beneath the black waters of the Edisto River. She couldn’t know her whole life would be stolen from her.

 

When she returns to Saisons sixteen years later, she has no memory of ever having been there. Not even that it was her birthplace. Enlisting the help of her childhood friend, Mercedes—whose name stayed with her, if in shadowy dreams only—Simone encounters misty memories, and stirs up more mystery than she started with.

 

 

 

““Mercedes?” I could barely breathe. I didn’t remember this woman. The name only tumbled in my mind, tugging at memories I couldn’t see. I don’t know how but I knew I could trust her. Still…”

 

 

““NO!” My throat raw already, my scream was jagged and panicked and desperate. “No!” I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to remember… Not this. I didn’t want to remember this.”

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Whispering Winds of Spring, Seasons Book 4, Excerpt

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Thursday 31 May 2018 – CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SIMONE DUBOIS BISHOP with MERCEDES RENALDI, SCARLETT SHEEHAN, and PEARL GRÜBER

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Thursday 31 May 2018 – CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SIMONE DUBOIS BISHOP with MERCEDES RENALDI, SCARLETT SHEEHAN, and PEARL GRÜBER

CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SIMONE DUBOIS BISHOP with MERCEDES RENALDI, SCARLETT SHEEHAN, and PEARL GRÜBER

“My world came to an end the day I jumped off Versailles.”

“The comforting words of dearest friends are a soothing balm to a jagged soul.”

“I watched and listened as an observer, looking through a window to a time long ago. It tugged at memories I did not have—or could not recall—sending a chill through me; who was i and why had she kept me from this place?”

 

rem:  Bonjour, Madame, bienvenue. So wonderful to have you here today.

SIMONE :  Oh do call me Simone. You of all people know me so well.

rem:  Indeed—Simone. You’ve brought your friends with you, I see.

SIMONE :  Well, my story truly wouldn’t be complete without them, non?

rem:  It surely would not. Bienvenue, Mesdames—welcome back, I should say.

PEARL:  Delighted, I’m sure.

SCARLETT:  Madame, it is an honor to visit with you again.

MERCEDES:  Always a pleasure.

rem:  Ladies, it’s been quite the turn of events. What can you tell me of the day that started it all?

SIMONE :  When Mamá—died. That’s what started it all.

rem:  Simone, I’m so sorry. I know how awful that was for you.

MERCEDES :  We were girls still. None of us truly understood what had happened.

rem:  It’s hard to fathom regardless of age.

PEARL :  Truer words were never spoken.

rem:  Pearl, this all had an horrific impact on you as well.

PEARL :  Yes, well, it did. But—looks to Simone—I’ve come to realize takes her hands that you were her victim far more than I.

SIMONE :  embraces Pearl

SCARLETT :  What a tangled web it all was.

rem:  Indeed.

MERCEDES:  It all comes down to the Truth, and whether we believe Holy Scripture.

PEARL:  Lissette surely didn’t.

SCARLETT:  Nor Papá…

SIMONE :  He did in the end, Lett. He did in the end.

PEARL:  Well, isn’t this supposed to be about Simone? smooths her pink silk skirt

SIMONE :  Oh, Pearl. Always the supercilious one. winks

SCARLETT:  Pearl is a dear. And she’s right. smirks at Simone  This is rather about you.

rem:  Oh my. I don’t guess I’ve seen you four be so silly with one another.

MERCEDES:  Oh, Madame. This is quite tame.

SIMONE :  Well… mock condescending tone  This IS supposed to be about me, so… becomes serious  Mercedes is right. We were girls still, and couldn’t begin to fathom all that was at play.  deep breath  I jumped off that old church countless times. And that day…

SCARLETT:  It was awful for you.

PEARL:  It was awful for all of us.

MERCEDES:  takes Pearl’s hand  We, none of us, knew the impact to you then.

SIMONE :  sighs  I wasn’t trying to drown, truly. looks to her friends  Truly, how many times had I jumped? Not from Versailles only? But the barn and trees and… breath hitches

PEARL:  Yes, well. You always did give us such a fright.

SIMONE :  Mamá was… gone. And Papá… I’d never seen him act so. Of course now I realize he was mourning. But… But at the time, I thought… SOBS

Pearl and Mercedes and Scarlett all embrace Simone

rem:  Simone, Mesdames, I am so sorry for your loss.

SIMONE :  shaky breath  Madame, Robin, it is I who apologize to you.

PEARL:  Stuff and nonsense, Simone. We’re here to talk about you.

SIMONE :  smiles  Yes, well… I only ever wanted to escape. I never wanted to run away. I wanted to swim downstream and climb out and be by myself in the woods. For a while, at least.

rem:  And we all know that didn’t happen. When did you suspect Lissette wasn’t truly ta mére?

SIMONE :  I think I always knew. But I was just a child. I had no reason to question her and I didn’t know to follow or trust my instincts. She couldn’t have known, of course, that I’d have amnesia.

SCARLETT:  Or that she took the wrong girl.

SIMONE :  No, she… Well. No, but it worked out better for her that I couldn’t remember.

rem:  What would you have done if you’d not lost your memory?

PEARL: What could she have done?

rem:  She’s Simone, remember?

everyone laughs

SIMONE :  Touché, Madame. Touché. winks at Pearl  You are so right. If I had not lost my memory, I would have found my way home, to be sure.

rem:  You were a most ingenious and clever little girl.

MERCEDES:  She was that.  all laugh

SCARLETT:  I wonder… If Simone hadn’t come back, would any of the rest of us—well, how different it would have been.

PEARL:  Well, of course it would have been different. Except for Mercedes, of course. She would have got her letters.

SCARLETT:  Would you have left, too?

PEARL:  tilts head, pauses  I’m sure I… perhaps not.

MERCEDES:  There is a time and season for everything. I’m sure Le Seigneur had—has—His plan and purpose, and we all would have been reunited one way or another.

rem:  Very true words, Mercedes.

SIMONE :  There she goes again. laughs  Always so pragmatic.

PEARL:  I think that was more Spiritual.

rem:  What is the sweetest part of being home, Simone?

SIMONE :  Papá. He has been restored. Not to me only, but to his right mind.

rem:  Grief can be a crippling companion.

SIMONE :  Indeed.

PEARL:  Well said, Madame.

SCARLETT:  Merci, Madame, for telling our story.

rem:  Mes chères, it has been my pleasure and my privilege. As has been chatting with you again.

SIMONE :  Always glad to be here, Robin.

MERCEDES:  You have told our story well, Robin. I thank you, we all thank you, most graciously.

PEARL:  You helped me more than you know, Mad—Robin.

rem:  I will cherish you all, always.

SCARLETT:  As we will you.

MERCEDES:  Till we meet again, then.

rem:  Indeed. winks at Mercedes You know your little Agnes has her own story?

SIMONE :  What? Aggie?

SCARLETT:  How delightful.

PEARL:  You must tell us all about it.

rem:  All in good time, Mesdames. All in good time.

SIMONE :  Merci beaucoup. For everything.

rem:  My pleasure, Simone. My pleasure.

 

 

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://www.instagram.com/robinemason212/

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

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

 

 

““Mercedes?” I could barely breathe. I didn’t remember this woman. The name only tumbled in my mind, tugging at memories I couldn’t see. I don’t know how but I knew I could trust her. Still…”

 

 

““NO!” My throat raw already, my scream was jagged and panicked and desperate. “No!” I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to remember… Not this. I didn’t want to remember this.”

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Chat Thursday, The Silent Song of Winter, Seasons Series, Character Interview, Simone Dubois Bishop, Mercedes Townsend Renaldi, Scarlett Fontaine Sheehan, Pearl Marchand Grüber  

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 30 May 2018 – WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK– DARKWATER SECRETS by ROBIN CAROLL

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 30 May 2018 – WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK– DARKWATER SECRETS by ROBIN CAROLL

WREADING WEDNESDAY – FEATURED BOOK– DARKWATER SECRETS by ROBIN CAROLL

 

 

The Darkwater Inn stands tall and proud in the French Quarter, the hub of New Orleans. Bourbon Street is bustling, and General Manager Adelaide Fountaine has her hands full with a hotel at full capacity. She, along with everyone else, is shocked when a body is found: a hotel guest stabbed with a kitchen knife.

Detective Beau Savoie, Adelaide’s childhood friend, is on the case. As Beau digs into the victim’s past, he unearths a shocking connection between Adelaide and the murdered guest. Beau is hurt that his friend—the woman he’s quietly loved for years—kept the truth from him. And, to make matters worse, the stress of the investigation has sent Adelaide right into the comforting arms of her coworker Dimitri. But Beau can’t press Adelaide too hard . . . he’s keeping secrets of his own.

Can Adelaide and Beau afford to hide from the truth with a killer on the loose?

 

“I love boxing. I love Hallmark movies. I love fishing. I love scrapbooking. Nope, I’ve never fit into the boxes people have wanted to put me in.” ~Robin Caroll is definitely a contradiction, but one that beckons you to get to know her better.

Born and raised in Louisiana, Robin is a southerner through and through. Her passion has always been to tell stories to entertain others. Robin’s mother, bless her heart, is a genealogist who instilled in Robin the deep love of family and pride of heritage–two aspects Robin weaves into each of her 30 published novels.

When she isn’t writing, Robin spends time with her husband of twenty+ years, her three beautiful daughters and two handsome grandsons, and their character-filled pets at home–in the South, where else?

She serves the writing community as Executive Director/Conference Director for ACFW.

Her books have finaled/placed in such contests as the Carol Award, Holt Medallion, RT Reviewer’s Choice Award, Bookseller’s Best, and Book of the Year.

On her faith, Robin says, “I love Jesus and will follow Him wherever He leads me.”

An avid reader herself, Robin loves hearing from and chatting with other readers. Although her favorite genre to read is mystery/suspense, of course, she’ll read just about any good story. Except historicals! To learn more about this author of deep South mysteries of suspense to inspire your heart, visit Robin’s website at www.robincaroll.com

 

 

 

#Blogwords, Wreading Wednesday, Featured Book, DarkWater Secrets, Robin Caroll

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Tuesday 29 May 2018 – TUESDAY REVIEWS-DAY – BOOK REVIEW – ECHOES by KRISTEN HEITZMANN

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Tuesday 29 May 2018 – TUESDAY REVIEWS-DAY – BOOK REVIEW – ECHOES by KRISTEN HEITZMANN

TUESDAY REVIEWS-DAY – BOOK REVIEW – ECHOES by KRISTEN HEITZMANN

                                                                             

Leaving her self-imposed limbo in the Bronx, Sofie Michelli heads to Sonoma to stay with Lance and Rese at their villa, where she meets Matt, who is instantly intrigued, but before their relationship can progress, a beloved child from the past calls and sends Sofie into a tailspin–and back to New York.

 

 

Kristen Heitzmann is the bestselling author of contemporary romantic suspense, psychological suspense, and historical novels, including Colorado Book Award finalist The Still of Night, Christy Award finalists Indivisible and The Tender Vine, and Christy Award winners Secrets and The Breath of Dawn that won both a Christy Award and Inspirational Readers Choice Award and was a finalist for a people’s choice award in the Netherlands. She is a fiction track and workshop teacher at writers conferences. An artist and musician, she’ll also be found hiking the Colorado Rocky Mountain trails near her home where she lives with her husband, pets, extended family, and wildlife.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A master with the words, Ms. Heitzmann tells a story both poignant and compelling and breathtaking. As in real life, evil is pervasive in this story, but the Truth and Father’s love more so.

I wept and chewed my nails and fought for Sofie to have her freedom and embrace true joy.

 

“I don’t harbor grudges. It only makes the wound grow deep.”

 

I read in awe as Lance allowed himself—gave himself—to be used by God—and was.

 

“ ‘If travail has a purpose, let me find it now. If honor needs a taker, O Lord, me endow. If wisdom is a garment, let me wear it well; if goodness needs a champion, help me dark dispel.’ ”

 

I begged Matt to give credence to their faith, urged him on as he struggled to reconcile two diametrically opposite experiences.

 

“…he groped for words to reach a being out there somewhere who might be listening after all. ‘God help me,’ he murmured, then realized they were the words he needed…”

 

If there is a single truth to be grasped from this story, Ms. Heitzmann says it well,

 

“God isn’t only in the glorious moments, but the dark and hopeless ones as well. Maybe most of all.”

 

Echoes neatly concludes the Michelli Family Series. And yet, I could read more of this family, I could visit with them in the villa, another misfit who found a place to belong.

 

ALL.THE.FEATHERS

 

 

I purchased this book on Amazon. I offer my review of my own free will, and the opinions expressed in my review are my own honest thoughts and reaction to this book.

 

 

#Blogwords, Tuesday Reviews-Day, #TRD, Book Review, Echoes, Kristen Heitzmann, Michelle Family Series, Secrets, Unforgotten

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Sunday 27 May 2018 – FRONT PORCH FELLOWSHIP – FORGIVENESS

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Sunday 27 May 2018 – FRONT PORCH FELLOWSHIP – FORGIVENESS

FRONT PORCH FELLOWSHIP – FORGIVENESS

“Gee, Sis!” I cried. “Just open the door and shove me out in traffic, why don’thca ya?” We laughed.

 

My sister friend from church was taking me to lunch and we sat in the turn lane of a seven land very busy road, waiting to turn left. She had asked me about the RA, and was telling me about a study she had read on spiritual causes and sources of physical illnesses. Unforgiveness, apparently, was the thing that causes or triggers RA. Which I have.

 

I explained to her that the first Scripture that ever impressed on my spirit was Matthew 5:43-48

 

⁴³ “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, ⁴⁵ that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ⁴⁶ For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? ⁴⁷ And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so? ⁴⁸ Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.

 

“ …love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you…”

 

Is that not rather the essence of forgiveness? Pardon, absolution, exoneration, remission, dispensation, indulgence, clemency, mercy…

 

To forgive is to stop feeling angry or resentful toward (someone) for an offense, flaw, or mistake. To pardon, excuse, exonerate, absolve;

 

³⁸ “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ ³⁹ But I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. ⁴⁰ If anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also. ⁴¹ And whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two. ⁴² Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you do not turn away.

 

Rather opposite to what we see and expect in our world today. caveat: in no way does this equate to being a doormat or a victim. Forgiveness is not the same as enabling. Rather, it is opposite to that. While it may or may not bless or release the offender, it surely releases the offended.

 

But what has this to do with my little opening vignette? Everything. For as much as I had forgiven others in my life, my friend’s words jarred me to the core:

 

“But have you forgiven yourself?”

 

I felt like I had been held captive in a glass cube, not unlike phone booths of yore. And her words were the 2×4 that smashed it, shattering it to pieces on the ground at my feet.

 

Had I forgiven myself?

 

How could I? I had never thought of it.

 

So I did. And truly, I believe that was the turning point in my years of healing, this journey I’ve been on. The same journey we all walk in this life.

 

Forgive others? Easy peasy. Truly.

 

Forgive me? Yes, I did it.

 

from my journal, dated 7 August 2012:

 

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for feeling responsible for everything.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for trying to gain attention by performance.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for trying to gain attention by taking over.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for trying to gain attention by pretending to be the adult.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for not allowing yourself to have a childhood.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for feeling insecure.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for not teaching your kids accountability.

Robin Elizabeth, I forgive you for not learning to love.

 

I went further, and put words to paper, conscious thought to what I already knew in my heart:

 

[She who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for always making me feel I had to prove myself.

[She who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for making me perform.

[She who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for making me feel guilty that I was never good enough.

[She who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for not loving me.

[She who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for not liking me.

 

[He who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for letting her.

[He who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for sitting by.

[He who shall remain nameless] I forgive you for not showing me what a husband should be.

 

Was it fun? No. Was it easy? Not really. But is it worth it? Absolutely.

 

 

#Blogwords, Front Porch Fellowship, #FPF, Sunday Devotion, Forgiveness

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Saturday 26 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Saturday 26 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

“My world came to an end the day I jumped off Versailles.”

 

“The comforting words of dearest friends are a soothing balm to a jagged soul.”

 

SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

“Of course, you know we were married.” I sat now with the Colonel, just the two of us at Alés House—now my home. “But I did wonder would he ever propose.”

The Colonel laughed and tugged on his cigar. “You, my dear, are a fragile one. And I bow to your man for recognizing that. I dare say he knew a good thing when he had it, and didn’t wish to scare you off.”

“Scare me off?” I sipped at my tea, and shifted as the babe stretched.

“Tell me, Harmonia.” Ashes from the cigar flitted down to the floor. “Had he asked you to be his wife sooner, when you were wet behind the ears still, would you have accepted?”

“Wet behind the ears?” I hooted with laughter, and pressed my hand against my belly. “Me? My dear Colonel, I was hardly wet behind the ears.”

“Naïve, no.” He had read my meaning. “Lissette stripped that from you, much to my great sorrow.”

“Colo—” His raised finger interrupted me.

“You learned and knew far more than any lady should ever know of a man’s nature.”

“But you…”

“My dear.” The Colonel’s voice overlapped mine, diminishing it in the shadow and depth of his own. “I am a man, as base as we come. I’ve seen things—the ugliest things. But I know propriety and decorum, and I choose the better thing.”

He stood then and stretched, went to the window. “Let’s walk, shall we? It’s a most lovely day.”

It was lovely, mild for the first days of June, sunny with tempering clouds, and an easy breeze stirring.

“You, Little Harmonia, were a scared little rabbit.” He patted my hand and snugged it in the crook of his tweed-sleeved arm. “You knew and saw much. But it was distorted and vile what you saw. Your man, what he gave you was not that. What he gave you was a most precious gift.”

For all that the Colonel was a giant of a man, and his work—I never did know what exactly it was he did—in the darkest recesses of humanity, it might have made him an angry and violent and bitter man. But it did not.

Non, the Colonel was most tender and thoughtful and considerate, and he always knew the best in a person.

“He did, yes.” Awe stilled my voice, and trilled in my heart at the man I now called husband.

“Ah, yes. Le Seigneur always knows what the heart needs most.”

We walked in companionable silence, serenaded as we were by nature itself, the folding of water over the rippled mud, the trill of birds as they danced in the sky. The sway of trees as the wind brushed the sky.

“How did you know?” We had walked to the end of the boardwalk, and turned back, stopped to sit in the gazebo that perched over the marsh.

He reached into his jacket, and pulled out another cigar. “I was watching you.” Smoke twirled along on the breeze.

“That was you?” I had known someone trailed me, but hadn’t known who. I hadn’t known the Colonel then, leastwise, I hadn’t remembered knowing him, and the realization that he was the one—

“No, dear girl.” He held the cigar out over the railing. “I’m not seen when I’m trailing someone.”

“What…” The sense of dread and unease washed over me, a surge like an undertow, tumbling me back into murky depths. “But…”

“I guarded you.”

From who?

“Capps had—has—dirty dogs who jump when he barks.” If he thought levity would ease the rising panic, it failed. “Fellows, scalawags, who scrabbled for the scraps and bones he might toss their way.”

“Dogs, Colonel? Really?” Indignity and insult temporarily edged out the panic.

“Capps is a dog, no doubt about it.”

“Isn’t he the one you said… some operation? Lissette was involved?”

“The very one.”

“He was following me?”

“You were in association with Lissette.”

“Not association. Non, never.”

“He wouldn’t know that.” The Colonel pulled another drag of his cigar, the tip bright and hot and angry red. “Nor would he care. You were close with her, lived with her. Whatever you saw or heard, it was too much.”

“He wanted…” What? What had he wanted?

“He wants you dead.”

 

Amidst the clamor of confusion, can she hear the whisper of her memories?

 

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.

 

Simone Dubois’ life was unraveling. All she had known and held dear was gone from her. At ten, all she wanted was to escape beneath the black waters of the Edisto River. She couldn’t know her whole life would be stolen from her.

 

When she returns to Saisons sixteen years later, she has no memory of ever having been there. Not even that it was her birthplace. Enlisting the help of her childhood friend, Mercedes—whose name stayed with her, if in shadowy dreams only—Simone encounters misty memories, and stirs up more mystery than she started with.

 

 

 

““Mercedes?” I could barely breathe. I didn’t remember this woman. The name only tumbled in my mind, tugging at memories I couldn’t see. I don’t know how but I knew I could trust her. Still…”

 

 

““NO!” My throat raw already, my scream was jagged and panicked and desperate. “No!” I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to remember… Not this. I didn’t want to remember this.”

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Whispering Winds of Spring, Seasons Book 4, Excerpt

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Friday 25 May 2018 – rem INTERVIEW – HEART WINGS

BLOGWORDS – rem INTERVIEW – HEART WINGS

for the full interview – http://www.heartwingsblog.com/2018/05/robin-mason-giveaway/

 

FAITH FICTION

 

“Maybe you have to know the darkness to truly appreciate the light.” —Madeline L’Engle

 

CARYL:   What genre(s) do you write? And what made you choose that genre?

ROBIN:   It chose me! As many of you know, I cannot market as Christian Fiction even though my faith shows up in my stories. But so do a scarce few “no no” words, and that disqualifies me. So I’ve made up my own genre, Faith Fiction. #winkwink

Because for all the ugly I write, Father is there. I’ve seen and lived through some ugly stuff, and though sometimes we want to question how this could happen, Holy Spirit has shown me that regardless of what happens, He is with us.

And that’s what’s in my stories.

Allow me to share the words of my sweet friend, Carrie Schmidt, when she reviewed The Silent Song of Winter recently:

 

“In her novels, Mason wrestles with some of the darkest parts of human nature. But she also wraps each story in the loving arms of Grace… A realization that the words of Scripture are God’s heart written just for her. A new awareness that she is a child of the King who is dearly loved. As this transformation takes place in Pearl’s heart, it touches every area of her life – with some very moving results.”

 

http://readingismysuperpower.org/2018/03/09/book-review-and-a-giveaway-the-silent-song-of-winter-by-robin-e-mason/

 

CARYL:   Are you a blogger? Does you blog have a theme? Have another’s blog site favorite?

ROBIN:   Yup! Robin’s Nest is all about family and friends gathering and hanging out. And books. I follow so many blogs it’s ridiculous, but Carrie Schmidt (above) has become a dear and precious friend. I have a readers group on Facebook as well—Robin’s Readers Flock! *would love to have you join us!

CARYL:   Where do you write?

ROBIN:   In my comfy little nest. I’m on the loveseat with all my necessary accoutrements readily at hand.

 

CARYL:   What are you working on now? Have a new story going?

ROBIN:   Welll…. I thought I was heading into a new series, The Steppe House (which incidentally will feature a truly minor character from the series just finished) but a singleton that I’ve been playing with for years has just informed me it’s actually the first in a series. FourSquare is four stories of twins, the first of which is One for the Price of Two. In which Bethy and Mere are so identical even their parents can’t tell them apart. It’s a departure from my previous genre, what I’m calling Romancedy. And I do plan to have fun with it.

Neighbor kids have also asked me for stories, so I’m working on some kid stories. And a series for each of my granddaughters.

 

CARYL:   What advice would you give an aspiring writer?

ROBIN:   Do it. Don’t wait. It’s like having kids, you’ll never “be ready.” And there’s never a “good time.” I open my first blog post with, “I’ve been thrown in the deep end.  Of a deep ocean.  In a tidal wave.” Truly I had no clue. But I learned as I went. But I did it. I writed. And you can too.

 

CARYL:   Have you always written in this genre? Why did you choose it?

ROBIN:   Women’s fiction, yes. Historical, no, I did not start off with that. Faith fiction, absolutely—before I even realized it, or named it!

 

CARYL:   How do you begin, organize your research?

ROBIN:   I keep a notebook and clipboard next to me, as well as a folder for each story, and subfolders. Couple of critical docs are who’s who, with names and birthdates, and who’s married to whom, etc. Notes of things that show up like the name of a store or a teacher or neighbor, what kind of car so-n-so drives. And because Seasons was such a compact timeline, I printed out calendar with each day so I could write when a particular / critical scene or event happened.

 

CARYL:   How do you develop your characters? Choose their names?

ROBIN:   Rather like making new friends. I meet them (and they tell me their names) and get to know them as I write. * and make notes in the above-mentioned docs

 

CARYL:   Which character took you by surprise?

ROBIN:   In my first novel, I was surprised to learn that a certain character whom I had thought was but a passing and minor role, was, in fact a praying person, and therefore quite the important behind-the-scenes role!

CARYL:   What about setting, how do you choose it? A familiar place or distant?

ROBIN:   The story chooses it for me. But I do locate the area on google maps and “borrow” (a) town(s) for my purposes.

CARYL:   Who did you dedicate your book to and why?

ROBIN:   Because Seasons is about four friends, I dedicated each of the books in this series to one of my best friends: Cyndi, Karyn, Donna, and Dana.

CARYL:   Is there one particular message or “moral of the story” you hope readers walk away with?

ROBIN:   Father is always there. I know we read it in Scripture, but to live through the darkness of this world and know He is with you.

 

CARYL:   What would be your dream vacation? Destination and mode of travel?

ROBIN:   Ireland, don’tcha know!

CARYL:   What is your favorite season, and why?

ROBIN:   Spring—it’s a (ahem) robin thing.

CARYL:   Tell us about your family, children, ages, pets?

ROBIN:   I’m all about family. I have three grown kids, and two beautiful granddaughters. My daughter and her 12 year old daughter live across the street. My sons live in the area but not so close. My other granddaughter is 8 and she lives with her mom in another town.

I have four kitty babies, Jasper, Juniper, Jake, and Penelope.

 

CARYL:   When did God first call you into this ministry? How has this changed you?

ROBIN:   Allow me to summarize a blog post I wrote last year that answers these questions. When Father created me, He instilled creativity in me. … for years I [attempted to] shoved that creativity into a nice little box. It didn’t stay… I tried for years to be something I’m not… In discovering who I am and more importantly, who I am in Him, I discovered my purpose. … The more I discovered my identity as a writer, the more I discovered who I am in Him—which feeds my identity as a writer, which feeds who I am…

 

CARYL:   What was your initial response?

ROBIN:   I had no idea it was actually ministry!

 

CARYL:   Please share a testimony of a time when God moved mightily.

ROBIN:   My oldest son has been sober since 20 February 2017. He asked me a few years ago to stop preaching to him, i.e. sharing anything God related. My heart cringed and I didn’t think I could do it. But Holy Spirit whispered to me to honor my son’s request so I did. That act witnessed to him more than any words I could ever say. BONUS: Holy Spirit can and will and does work more in my son’s life than I ever could. (and sometimes for all our good intentions, we interfere with His work!)

 

 

#Blogwords, Rem INTERVIEW, Heart Wings, rem Interview, Faith Fiction, Robin’s Nest, Robin’s Readers Flock

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Friday 25 May 2018 – FIRST LINE FRIDAY – THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS by ANN BRASHARES

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Friday 25 May 2018 – FIRST LINE FRIDAY – THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS by ANN BRASHARES

FIRST LINE FRIDAY – THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS by ANN BRASHARES

 

Welcome to First Line Fridays, hosted by Hoarding Books!!!

 

Tell us your first line in the comments & then head over to Hoarding Books to see who else is participating!

 

 

 

 

Some friends just fit together.

Once there was a pair of pants. Just an ordinary pair of jeans. But these pants, the Traveling Pants, went on to do great things. This is the story of the four friends—Lena, Tibby, Bridget, and Carmen—who made it possible.

Pants = love. Love your pals. Love yourself.

 

Ann Brashares is the bestselling author of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, The Second Summer of the Sisterhood, Girls in Pants, Forever in Blue, The Last Summer (of You and Me), and My Name is Memory.

 

 

 

 

 

Once upon a time there was a pair of pants.

 

 

 

#Blogwords, First Line Friday, #FLF, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Ann Brashares

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Thursday 24 May 2018 – CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SUZETTE DUBOIS FENN & VIOLET DUBOIS

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Thursday 24 May 2018 – CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SUZETTE DUBOIS FENN & VIOLET DUBOIS

CHAT THURSDAY – CHARACTER INTERVIEW – SUZETTE DUBOIS FENN & VIOLET DUBOIS

“My world came to an end the day I jumped off Versailles.”

“The comforting words of dearest friends are a soothing balm to a jagged soul.”

 

 

“I watched and listened as an observer, looking through a window to a time long ago. It tugged at memories I did not have—or could not recall—sending a chill through me; who was i and why had she kept me from this place?”

 

rem:  Bonjour, Madame et Mademoiselle, bienvenue. Merci for visiting with us today.

VIOLET:  Oh! I’m so happy to be here! Isn’t this exciting, Suzi?

SUZETTE:  Lovely to be here, I’m sure.

rem:  You were both witness to your sister’s tragic fall. What can you tell us about that?

SILENCE

VIOLET:  I was so small still, just two years at the time. I had seen Mona jump a number of times before. I don’t know how I knew but that last time was different…

SUZETTE:   She died. I knew she had died.

VIOLET:  It scared me. I remember being scared.

SUZETTE:   We weren’t supposed to be there.

VIOLET:  We were always there. You always took me.

SUZETTE:  I didn’t understand why Mona wouldn’t let me go with them. She always said I was too little. But Scarlett and I are the same age.

rem:  Perhaps it was because you are her sister.

VIOLET:  giggles

SUZETTE:   Yes, well, I suppose.

rem:  And after she fell, you ran back to the house.

SUZETTE:   I couldn’t let them know we had been there. Couldn’t let them know what we had seen.

VIOLET:  You scared me.

SUZETTE:  I know I did, and I’m sorry for it. I was frightened. The woods, the river, it was evil that day. I felt it in my bones.

VIOLET:  You told me not to tell.

SUZETTE:  nods

VIOLET:  You told me never to tell anyone about it.

rem:  And you never did.

VIOLET:  nods

rem:  You never spoke at all after that day, correct?

VIOLET:  I was so scared. Mercedes would see me in the nursery or outdoors, and I remember it frightened me. I was too little to understand, but I suppose I thought she knew I had seen what happened. That perhaps… I don’t know. Just the thought of her frightened me. Because she had been there, too, I suppose. And seeing her made me think of it…

rem:  What of Pearl and Scarlett? Did it frighten you to see them, too?

VIOLET:  Oh, they didn’t come around anymore after the… the accident. Leastways, not for a very long time.

rem:  What of you, Suzette? Were you frightened, too?

SUZETTE:  I was, yes, but not for what had happened. We weren’t supposed to have been there, and the guilt of it… I know it would have happened, she would have jumped whether we saw it or not… But Vi…  sobs

rem:  That wasn’t your fault, Suzette.

VIOLET:  Oh, goodness, no! Suzi, have you blamed yourself all these years.

SUZETTE:  blinks

VIOLET:  Suz, darling sister, it wasn’t your fault.

SUZETTE:  But… sobs & shudders  but I took you there…

VIOLET:  Suzi, we often followed Mona.

SUZETTE:  I told you not to say anything…

VIOLET:  You did, yes. But—how did you say it? Just now? There was evil in the woods that day. looks at Suzette, takes her hands  I was little but I felt it too.

SUZETTE:     blinks

VIOLET:  That’s why I didn’t speak after that day.

SUZETTE:   Not because I…

VIOLET:  Darling sister, no, not because of anything you said. I don’t even remember you telling me that.

SUZETTE:   Truly?

VIOLET:  Truly.

rem:  Oh my goodness. What a burden you’ve carried all these years Suzette.

SUZETTE:   smiles

rem:  Your Tante Vivienne took care of you in your mother’s absence, correct?

VIOLET:  pause  I only ever thought of her as… as our mere… swipes at tears  I… I… never really remembered Mamá.   sobs

SUZETTE:  Vi… hugs Violet and weeps with her

PAUSE

VIOLET:  My apologies, Madame.

rem:  No apologies necessary.

VIOLET:  I have only shadowy memories of… notre mamá. I know she was a dear, a sweet lady.

SUZETTE:  She was, yes.

VIOLET:  She looked like Vivienne, yes?

SUZETTE:   nods

rem:  What about now? Simone is restored to you.

VIOLET:  Oh, yes, indeed!

SUZETTE:   tilts head  You knew, didn’t you? You knew she was alive?

VIOLET:  I didn’t know really, how could I?

rem:  But you saw her, correct?

VIOLET:  I did, yes.

rem:  I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.  winks  Suzette, you are quite involved with Women’s Suffrage. What can you tell us about that?

SUZETTE:  Truly, I think it began that day. When Mona jumped, it seemed the world came to an end. I knew very little, really, about what had happened to Mamá—I saw what Lissette did. Before Mamá died. It’s why she was in an invalid chair. I was sitting with her on the front steps and she was singing to me. I know she was pushed, and right after, I saw Lissette in the trees by the gazebo. She never knew I saw her, I’m sure she didn’t.

rem:  No one believed you.

SUZETTE:  There was such a commotion. And I was just a little girl, five years old. They all thought I was telling fanciful tales.

rem:  How did that impact you?

VIOLET:  Suzi, I never knew that!

SUZETTE:  Yes, well. I knew Lissette was a very ill woman. I heard the stories like anyone else. And I had seen her lurking about Saisons—she had her eye on Papá.

rem:  And how did that connect to the Suffrage?

SUZETTE:  Mamá was dependent on Papá for everything, and before him, on her own papá. Lissette, for as much as she… as much as she was independent, she sought a man for his wealth, for his privilege. I decided I wanted to fight against that. A woman oughtn’t be beholden to a man for her livelihood or her freedom.

rem:  As a woman of the 21^st century, I thank you for your efforts. Ladies, I believe we should wrap this up before we tell the whole story right here.

SUZETTE:  Indeed. Vi can talk you ear off.

VIOLET:  I’ve a lot of time to make up for. winks

rem:  I thank you both for visiting with us today. I know it hasn’t been easy to talk of some of this.

SUZETTE:   Not easy, no, but good to talk about it. About Mamá. I enjoyed being here.

VIOLET:  I, too, have enjoyed our time. Thank you for inviting us.

 

 

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://www.instagram.com/robinemason212/

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

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

 

 

““Mercedes?” I could barely breathe. I didn’t remember this woman. The name only tumbled in my mind, tugging at memories I couldn’t see. I don’t know how but I knew I could trust her. Still…”

 

 

““NO!” My throat raw already, my scream was jagged and panicked and desperate. “No!” I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to remember… Not this. I didn’t want to remember this.”

 

 

#Blogwords, Chat Thursday, The Silent Song of Winter, Seasons Series, Character Interview, Suzette Dubois Fenn, Violet Dubois

Read Full Post »

BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 23 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

BLOGWORDS – BLOG BLITZ & BOOK LAUNCH – MAY 2018

BLOGWORDS – Wednesday 23 May 2018 – SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

“My world came to an end the day I jumped off Versailles.”

 

“The comforting words of dearest friends are a soothing balm to a jagged soul.”

 

SPECIAL EDITION – THE WHISPERING WINDS OF SPRING RELEASE – EXCERPT

 

“Simone, where are you taking us?” Pearl always did whine; she was so prissy and didn’t like to get dirty. She ought to have been a princess.

Pearl should have been my dearest friend. She and I were, after all, the same station in life. But Mercedes was as a sister to me and I was closer to her than anyone. She knew me so well, understood me. It was uncanny, really, that she should. Mercedes was a reflection of me, in counterpoint to my whim and caprice she was staid and steady.

Mercedes’ mamá was our housekeeper at Saisons House. And she was two years ahead of me and Pearl. But ma mère et grandmère were kind to our servants; it was as though they were family. And as young girls, Mercedes was permitted to play with me.

She and I got on famously. She read stories of great adventures, and I liked to explore and have great adventures. I don’t know why Pearl ever wanted to play with us; she had a sister, after all, but she always preferred to come to Saisons House of an afternoon.

Scarlett came to Saisons House to play, too. Her mamá and mine were dear friends, and they often came for tea. Scarlett’s sister, Avalina, joined us some days but not always. Scarlett was a tiny girl, and younger than me and Pearl. But she was sassy and spirited, and never lagged behind.

“Why Pearl, it’s a great adventure.” And Scarlett charged ahead of even me, picking through the bare path I had forged earlier.

“What is this place?” Always the sensible one, Mercedes asked the logical questions but failed to see the magic in a thing.

“It looks like a castle.” Scarlett was a tiny slip of a girl but her imagination was not tiny at all.

“Or maybe a dungeon,” I suggested.

“Good grief, Simone.” Pearl crossed her arms and stamped her foot. “It’s no castle. And we certainly have no dungeons here.”

“Oh, what do you know about it, Pearl? You’ve never been in a dungeon.”

“I’ve seen a dungeon.” Her look of disdain changed to one of smug superiority.

“Ha! There’s no dungeons around here.”

“There are in Paris.” She was the only one of us who had ever sailed to France.

“Well.” I defended my argument. “This could be a dungeon.”

“You can’t see the sky in a dungeon.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Or the trees.”

Pearl and I sniped back and forth for several minutes before Mercedes stepped between us. “Look, you two. It was once a church. See up there?” She indicated a round opening high in what remained of a stone wall. “That was where a window was.”

I scrambled on the wall, the part nearer to where we stood, where it was but a couple of feet high.

“Do get down from there, Simone.” Pearl reasserted her chastising demeanor. “It’s most unladylike.”

Her scolding only urged me higher, though, and soon my feet were well above their heads. “Look at me!” I cried. “I’m a mountain lion.”

“Do have a care, Simone.” Scarlett offered her genuine concern. “You could fall.”

“I’m not going to fall.” And to prove my point, I climbed higher, till I was standing at the pinnacle of the wall, directly above the round opening. “See?”

All three of them then begged and pleaded and urged me to come down. I sat instead.

“I’m not going to fall.”

 

Amidst the clamor of confusion, can she hear the whisper of her memories?

 

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.

 

Simone Dubois’ life was unraveling. All she had known and held dear was gone from her. At ten, all she wanted was to escape beneath the black waters of the Edisto River. She couldn’t know her whole life would be stolen from her.

 

When she returns to Saisons sixteen years later, she has no memory of ever having been there. Not even that it was her birthplace. Enlisting the help of her childhood friend, Mercedes—whose name stayed with her, if in shadowy dreams only—Simone encounters misty memories, and stirs up more mystery than she started with.

 

 

 

““Mercedes?” I could barely breathe. I didn’t remember this woman. The name only tumbled in my mind, tugging at memories I couldn’t see. I don’t know how but I knew I could trust her. Still…”

 

 

 

““NO!” My throat raw already, my scream was jagged and panicked and desperate. “No!” I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want to remember… Not this. I didn’t want to remember this.”

 

 

#Blogwords, Special Edition, The Whispering Winds of Spring, Seasons Book 4, Excerpt

Read Full Post »