Sunday, July 31, 2016

Interview with Jamie Richmond

Not so long ago, someone wanted to know how one of my characters would respond if they were being interviewed.  So when I asked which character they were interested in and what specifically they wanted to know.  They asked about Jamie and provided the following list of questions. 

1.  Tell us a little about yourself. How did you come to your author’s attention? Occupation? 

Jamie:  Well, I’m 31, single, the only child in an Irish American family. My father was a sculptor who was very successful. Unfortunately, he died when I was about seven years old. My mother decided that staying with one man made no sense, so she has been married many times since then, which makes me a little skittish about relationships. I’ve always been interested in writing, studied journalism in college and worked for newspapers for about eight years. I learned a lot about people and writing, which I now utilized for the kind of writing I was born to do. Mysteries!  I recently sold my first novel and I’m working on my next one.

The author read some of my columns and features when I was still working as a reporter. We met for coffee a couple of times. I think he liked my style. At times I can be a bit of a smart ass. I’m pretty observant, quick with a laugh. But I’m a redhead, so you know I’ve got a fast temper too!

2.  What or who is the greatest love of your life? Why? What drew you to them?

Jamie: Wow, that’s a tough one. There are different types of love. I mean, I really love Bert, my step-father. He was my mother’s third husband, from the time I was thirteen until I went to college. He’s always treated me as an adult, has always been there for me. We’re still close. Then there’s Linda, my best friend since we were six years old. I’d do anything for her. Now if you’re talking about romantic love, there’s a guy who recently entered my life. Malone. He’s charming and self confident and smart. One look from him and my knees come unhinged. He’s got these incredible blue eyes that pierce my heart. We’re still getting to know each other.  I think what appealed to me is that we met through my work several times before we started to date. By that time, we had developed this low key friendship. I was still nervous on our first date, but that’s fairly normal. (Laughs) He still makes me nervous.

3.  What’s your greatest fear?

Jamie: That I’ll do something to ruin the great thing I have with Malone. When it comes to relationships, I’m always looking over my shoulder at my mother’s crazy antics. I’m afraid that it’s hereditary and I’ll end up driving Malone away. But the longer we’re together, the more confident I’m becoming. I think.

4.  What’s your motto in life?  

Jamie:  What the hell.  It’s an old expression from a dear friend. When I wanted to try something different, like writing mysteries, I figured, ‘what the hell’. You can either keep doing the same thing, or take some chances with life and see where it goes. I owe a good part of that philosophy to Bert, who has always encouraged me.

5.  How do the other characters in your book view you? 

Jamie: (laughs) Stubborn, determined, self-conscious, shy, (yeah, I know) focused and creative. I’m stubborn about getting to the truth. I’m self-conscious about my body. I am definitely shy and a little awkward with guys. And everyone says I can be a real smart ass.

6. What do you prefer? To spread & hear gossip, or be the creator of gossip fodder?

Jamie: Oh baby, I want to create the gossip fodder. And it’s even sweeter if it’s about me. (Laughs) I like to think I can keep a secret, but only if I have to.

7.  What is it about you that is going to draw us readers in? 

Jamie:  Readers will be able to identify with me. I’m a real woman, not some Hollywood creation that required assembly. While I doubt my body would stop traffic unless I am sprawled across the highway, I’m fine with the way I look. Like many women, I struggle sometimes with my self-confidence. I might read too much into what someone says or does, wondering if there’s more to it than what’s on the surface.  But my heart is strong and true. I want the same things we all do: to have a few good friends we can count on, a job that I’m successful at, and someone to curl up with at the end of the day and love. 

8.  What was your happiest moment? 

Jamie: To share my successes with those closest to me. Having Bert, Linda and Malone in my life bring me happiness. Lately, having Malone in my life has certainly made me happy.

9.  What trait in others do you find most deplorable?

Jamie: Dishonesty. I can’t stand liars. Sadly, I’ve dated a few and when their lies tripped them up, they were out the door. 

10. The random question: If you were a color, what color would you be and why?

Jamie: (laughs loudly) Oh, I’ve got to say red. Since I’m already a redhead, it only makes sense. Red can be bright and vibrant and glowing. My face turns red when I’m excited or embarrassed. It’s the color of roses, of blazing sunsets, of passion, of love. Yes, I am definitely a red.

Sound interesting?  Here's a little excerpt from "Devious" the first book in the series, where Jamie and Malone acknowledge their mutual attraction.

The first time on the sofa was wild. There was no chance for foreplay. We both wanted it too much for that. Clothes were flung so far that I didn't find my red bra until two days later.  It must have bounced off the wall and slid behind the planter. After the initial rush, Malone introduced me to the romantic aspects of each room in my apartment.  At one point after a warm bath together, I was on my stomach in bed and he proceeded to drive me crazy by slowly making patterns down my spine with one solitary fingertip.
Each time after the first started out slow and tender. A kiss here, fingers stroking there. Malone was toying with me, bringing me to the edge of excitement now, his lips following his finger.  My whole body felt alive, energized with the reactions to his touch.
He kissed his way up my body, taking his time. A nuzzle here, another tantalizing kiss there.  My skin was singing. My face was flushed, probably as red as my hair.  At about the time I could actually feel my body starting to recover, he zeroed in on my breasts.
Now I can’t say this is true for all women. I can only speak for me. Maybe it’s because of the infrequency of romantic interludes. Or maybe it’s my age. Or maybe the moon was rising.
My breasts are small. I hinted at that before. There are fourteen-year old girls out there with bigger breasts than mine. To clarify the situation, all my bras are padded and yes, the cup size is A. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but it’s what I’ve got and I’d never consider surgery to pump them up.  All I know is that when Malone starting stroking and kissing my breasts, it’s like there was a direct connection down below. I was immediately wet with anticipation yet again.
“What am I going to do with you,” I whispered my voice little more than a feathery gasp.
Whatever you would like, I’m open to suggestions.”

Jamie Richmond?

 Here's a link to an older post you might enjoy.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

"Strong as Death"

It is my pleasure to announce the launch of the latest book "Strong as Death" by the talented M. S. Kaye. 

M.S. Kaye has several published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio, she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at her website.

Here's what the story is about.

Ilona discovers what it means to have a mother who is a modern woman and a father who is a 19th-century gentleman ghost.
After being hit by a car and taken to the hospital, Ilona starts to realize she’s different from other people, and that her mother has hidden the truth from her. She sneaks out of the hospital in order to discover the truth.

A mysterious boy named Archer guides her through Brooklyn and introduces her to Hendrick, the man who claims to be her father—though he died in 1890. 

Ilona must discover not only what she must do to rid the city of Soll, a sadistic and powerful spirit, but also what it means to be half ghost. She proves what her mother told her—love is stronger than death.
Sounds interesting.  So here's an excerpt.

Another twenty yards and she’d be out of the darkness of the trees and almost to the sidewalk, within reach of the light from the streetlamps.

A figure stepped out from behind a large oak, directly into Ilona’s path.

Ilona stopped and searched for a way around.

“What are you doing?” a rough voice growled.

Ilona recognized it immediately, even before she registered Archer’s face.

“It’s none of your business what I’m doing,” she said.

He moved closer. “You’re making it goddamned impossible to protect you.”

“You can’t protect me.”

His jaw tightened, and he glared. “What in the hell do you think I’ve been doing?”

“I’m honestly not sure.”

His voice rose. “You’d be lying frozen dead in a gutter right now if it wasn’t for me. You saw what happened in the shelter—you’d have been attacked by now if I hadn’t been around.”

Her tone was quiet, calm. “I know how you scared them away.”

“I told you I have a talent for creating fear. It comes in useful.”

“But you don’t like it.”

He said nothing.

“And I know you’ve been around,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows as if she was being slow.

“Before you asked me if I was lost,” she said. “You were there—when the car hit me.”

His expression sobered.

She waited for a response.

Finally, he said, “I’ve been around.”

“Will you answer one question? And be honest?”

“I give as much honesty as I can.”

Her lips curved a little. That was perhaps the most honest response he had yet given.

She moved closer, and he backed away.

“No,” she said.

He stopped.

“When you turned the corner and asked if I was lost,” she said, “you leaned your shoulder on the wall. How did you do that?”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“You’re really good at it,” she said. “It took me awhile to realize you never actually touch anything, that you stay out of the light, that you don’t get cold, your breath doesn’t come out in puffs in the cold like everyone else’s, you never let anyone close, near enough to realize you have no scent, to feel the static when you get too close.”

He took a step back, as if in self-defense.

“Don’t try to lie anymore,” she said. “I know what you are.”

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