Approximately a month ago, I received an email from an author, an author who has just finished writing her fifth (5th) book.   An author who’s books are published by a big publishing house.   Honestly, I had to read the email twice because I really had a hard time processing what she stated in the email.   I was awestruck that this very talented and experienced writer was not only visiting my site, but liked it and wanted to know if she could visit with all of us and talk about her latest novel.  Astonished doesn’t seem to express what I was feeling.  So I please ask to give a very warm welcome to today’s guest, Ms. Cathy Holton, as only the CMash fabulous and fantastic followers can do!!

Visit her online at www.cathyholton.com; follow her @cathyholton on Twitter and on Facebook.
Visit the Summer in the South Facebook Fan Page for news and special offers.

This was in Stevens Point, Wisconsin; we lived in a large, rambling Victorian house not far from the campus where my father had taken a job as an assistant professor.  We were Southerners, born and bred, but my Liberal parents had decided to get us out of the South during the violent Civil Rights movement, and so my father had accepted a teaching position in this small Wisconsin town. For my younger brothers and I, it might
as well have been the gray, cratered surface of the moon. We were far away from everything we’d ever known.

I had always been an imaginative child, but now I was a lonely one. When I raised my hand in class that first day of school to answer a question, there was a moment of stunned silence. The teacher, unable to understand my thick Southern drawl, asked me to repeat myself. The boy in front of me turned around and said, “Where are you from, the swamp?” The next day the entire group on the playground lined up and shouted, “The Rebels are coming! The Rebels are coming!” as my brother and I plodded stoically toward the front door of The Abraham Lincoln Grammar School.

Eventually I made a friend, and when I went home to spend the night with her for the first time, her mother said, “Oh, you’re from down South where they turn the dogs on people.” I realized then that my family was different; we were tainted by our sinister history. I was deeply and irrevocably ashamed.

A few nights later as I drifted off to sleep, a strange thing happened. My bedroom was at the top of the house and had a faux “turret” that was actually a bowed window seat.  During the day, the window seat, surrounded by the thick branches of a leafy oak tree, was a wonderful place to read. But at night, these same branches cast eerie shadows in my room. On this particular evening, I awoke suddenly to find myself unable to move.  The room was hazy with moonlight and I could move my eyes slightly, but the rest of my body was paralyzed. As the horror of this dawned on me I became gradually aware that I was not alone in the room. I could hear soft breathing. Slanting my eyes to the right I could see, sitting on the window seat, the tall, dark figure of a man.

The paralysis lasted only a few short moments and when I was finally able to move, I jumped from my bed to find the man gone. The following year my parents moved us back to the South. The experience never reoccurred and it was not until college that I read of a fairly common, but little known sleep disorder called “sleep paralysis.” It occurs in roughly half the population at least once and includes both auditory and visual hallucinations.

Not long after I married and started a family, I went with my good friend Randal to spend the weekend in her small home town in Tennessee. Randal was from a very oldmoneyed Southern family, a family with an almost mythical history, and we were guests of her Great Aunt Fanny in a rambling mansion filled with wonderful treasures. On Friday, we escorted Fanny to the cemetery so she could “visit the dead.” Watching as the
elderly woman knelt to put flowers on a small grave set apart from the others, I asked Randal, “Whose grave is that?”

  She hesitated just long enough to make me curious. “That’s Fanny’s first husband. Charlie.”
  “What happened to him?”
  “He died. We don’t speak of him.”

I couldn’t get anything else out of her. That night as I lay awake in my moonlit room waiting for Charlie’s ghost to appear, I remembered my experience all those years ago in the house in Wisconsin. And  I remembered, too, the tender look on Fanny’s face as she bent to put flowers on the grave of a man who had died sixty-five years ago. And I wondered what could have happened between Fanny and Charlie that would keep her family from ever mentioning his name.

Twenty-five years later I wrote Summer in the South, the story of Ava, a Chicago writer trying to escape her own troubled past who stumbles upon a sixty-five year old murder mystery in a small Southern town. Are the things that happened to Ava in that old mansion in Woodburn, Tennessee real or imaginary? Was the love affair between Fanny and Charlie truly as I imagined it?

The answers to both questions, I suppose, lie clearly in the realm of fiction.
 

But the Woodburns are not who they seem to be. Gradually hearing rumors about the mysterious death of great-aunt Fanny’s first husband, Ava stumbles upon a decades-old family secret. With the help of Jake Woodburn, Will’s estranged cousin, Ava gradually puts aside her planned novel and begins instead to write the tragic history of the Woodburns, a family with more skeletons (and ghosts) in their closets than anyone can possibly imagine.

As she writes the history of the Woodburns, Ava begins to put together the pieces of her own past, learning that a good story is always more dazzling, and ultimately less painful, than the truth.

Approximately a month ago, I received an email from an author, an author who has just finished writing her fifth (5th) book.   An author who’s books are published by a big publishing house.   Honestly, I had to read the email twice because I really had a hard time processing what she stated in the email.   I was awestruck that this very talented and experienced writer was not only visiting my site, but liked it and wanted to know if she could visit with all of us and talk about her latest novel.  Astonished doesn’t seem to express what I was feeling.  So I please ask to give a very warm welcome to today’s guest, Ms. Cathy Holton, as only the CMash fabulous and fantastic followers can do!!

Visit her online at www.cathyholton.com; follow her @cathyholton on Twitter and on Facebook.
Visit the Summer in the South Facebook Fan Page for news and special offers.

This was in Stevens Point, Wisconsin; we lived in a large, rambling Victorian house not far from the campus where my father had taken a job as an assistant professor.  We were Southerners, born and bred, but my Liberal parents had decided to get us out of the South during the violent Civil Rights movement, and so my father had accepted a teaching position in this small Wisconsin town. For my younger brothers and I, it might
as well have been the gray, cratered surface of the moon. We were far away from everything we’d ever known.

I had always been an imaginative child, but now I was a lonely one. When I raised my hand in class that first day of school to answer a question, there was a moment of stunned silence. The teacher, unable to understand my thick Southern drawl, asked me to repeat myself. The boy in front of me turned around and said, “Where are you from, the swamp?” The next day the entire group on the playground lined up and shouted, “The Rebels are coming! The Rebels are coming!” as my brother and I plodded stoically toward the front door of The Abraham Lincoln Grammar School.

Eventually I made a friend, and when I went home to spend the night with her for the first time, her mother said, “Oh, you’re from down South where they turn the dogs on people.” I realized then that my family was different; we were tainted by our sinister history. I was deeply and irrevocably ashamed.

A few nights later as I drifted off to sleep, a strange thing happened. My bedroom was at the top of the house and had a faux “turret” that was actually a bowed window seat.  During the day, the window seat, surrounded by the thick branches of a leafy oak tree, was a wonderful place to read. But at night, these same branches cast eerie shadows in my room. On this particular evening, I awoke suddenly to find myself unable to move.  The room was hazy with moonlight and I could move my eyes slightly, but the rest of my body was paralyzed. As the horror of this dawned on me I became gradually aware that I was not alone in the room. I could hear soft breathing. Slanting my eyes to the right I could see, sitting on the window seat, the tall, dark figure of a man.

The paralysis lasted only a few short moments and when I was finally able to move, I jumped from my bed to find the man gone. The following year my parents moved us back to the South. The experience never reoccurred and it was not until college that I read of a fairly common, but little known sleep disorder called “sleep paralysis.” It occurs in roughly half the population at least once and includes both auditory and visual hallucinations.

Not long after I married and started a family, I went with my good friend Randal to spend the weekend in her small home town in Tennessee. Randal was from a very oldmoneyed Southern family, a family with an almost mythical history, and we were guests of her Great Aunt Fanny in a rambling mansion filled with wonderful treasures. On Friday, we escorted Fanny to the cemetery so she could “visit the dead.” Watching as the
elderly woman knelt to put flowers on a small grave set apart from the others, I asked Randal, “Whose grave is that?”

  She hesitated just long enough to make me curious. “That’s Fanny’s first husband. Charlie.”
  “What happened to him?”
  “He died. We don’t speak of him.”

I couldn’t get anything else out of her. That night as I lay awake in my moonlit room waiting for Charlie’s ghost to appear, I remembered my experience all those years ago in the house in Wisconsin. And  I remembered, too, the tender look on Fanny’s face as she bent to put flowers on the grave of a man who had died sixty-five years ago. And I wondered what could have happened between Fanny and Charlie that would keep her family from ever mentioning his name.

Twenty-five years later I wrote Summer in the South, the story of Ava, a Chicago writer trying to escape her own troubled past who stumbles upon a sixty-five year old murder mystery in a small Southern town. Are the things that happened to Ava in that old mansion in Woodburn, Tennessee real or imaginary? Was the love affair between Fanny and Charlie truly as I imagined it?

The answers to both questions, I suppose, lie clearly in the realm of fiction.
 

But the Woodburns are not who they seem to be. Gradually hearing rumors about the mysterious death of great-aunt Fanny’s first husband, Ava stumbles upon a decades-old family secret. With the help of Jake Woodburn, Will’s estranged cousin, Ava gradually puts aside her planned novel and begins instead to write the tragic history of the Woodburns, a family with more skeletons (and ghosts) in their closets than anyone can possibly imagine.

As she writes the history of the Woodburns, Ava begins to put together the pieces of her own past, learning that a good story is always more dazzling, and ultimately less painful, than the truth.

As avid readers and bloggers, we know that times are changing.  How we read, be it print or ebooks.  How authors get published, be it by big companies or independently.  Today, I will be introducing you to an author who has written 3 books, and has asked if she might visit with us and talk about her newest book, a novella.  And since my belief is that everyone needs to start somewhere, what better place to start, than right here where the visitors are fantastic and fabulous.  So please welcome Ms. McCarty Griffin!

Since first publishing Half-Inch on Smashwords in October 2010, followed closely by Monster Story in November 2010 and then The Tribe in May 2011, I’ve thrown myself into a frenzied attempt to market my own books, as does every indie author. Whether it’s writing a guest blog, or doing an interview, requesting a review, or just trying to get my book listed for readers to find and hopefully purchase, I’ve filled out forms, written queries and answered lots of questions about myself and my books. One question that probably seems obvious on its face, and probably is for many writers, is “What genre do you write?”

I realize that for most writers, whether they’re published traditionally or they’re running with the outlaws of the indie world, this question is a gimme. Stephen King, horror. Nora Roberts, romance. Sue Grafton, mystery. These talented writers are recognized masters of their genres and for that fact we are all grateful and admiring readers. Like everyone else, I have my favorite genres to read and tend to gravitate consistently to them. However, when it comes to my own writing, I’m all over the board.

My first book, Half-Inch, is a novella which I categorize as chick lit noir, although I sometimes have to call it suspense or thriller because I’ve never actually seen chick lit noir listed as a category. It’s a story about an abused woman who takes an extreme and somewhat bizarre revenge on her husband. Monster Story is just flat out horror, an old-fashioned “monster story” about a werewolf. The Tribe is a children’s book, possibly edging into young adult, about cats, which I wrote for my children. I’m currently working on two books; Sub is a futuristic sci-fi, perhaps even dystopic, and Soul Searchers might qualify as paranormal chick lit. Anyone seeing a pattern here? Or maybe a lack of pattern might be more accurate.

I can understand why some writers only write in one genre. We all have our own peculiar tastes and bents of mind, and we tend to do better when we confine our endeavors in those areas. Can you picture Stephen King writing romance or chick lit? Or Nora Roberts writing steampunk? Neither can I and that’s what sometimes give me pause, because the stories that occur to me don’t seem to fall into one set genre; they never have. I’m just compelled to write the story that blossoms in my mind without any regard for traditional categorizing or pigeonholing. I explain it to myself by thinking, “I don’t live my life in a single genre, so why should I limit myself to one in my writing?”

Of course, I worry that this may be a case of whistling in the dark. What if readers don’t accept that a writer who produced a werewolf story can also write a good children’s story or a credible sci-fi? Will I be seen as a jack of all trades, but master of none? Will readers shy away from everything I write, because they can’t pin a label on me in their minds? I’ve actually toyed with the idea of writing under more than one name, as several traditionally published authors and some indie authors have done to avoid just this problem, but I haven’t quite been able to make myself do it yet. Maybe I’m foolishly optimistic or maybe I’m blindly stubborn; I’ll just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile, I hope some of you check out my books and see for yourselves if one person can write a good werewolf story and a chick lit noir and a children’s book. Then, have some mercy on me, and other writers who wonder about that very same thing, and share your answer with the indie publishing world. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the answer is “Yes!”

Pammy has had enough of Bobby, her abusive drunk of a husband. One lovely spring day, she decides to kill him, despite the fact that they will soon be divorced and he will, at least in the eyes of the law, be out of her life for good. Indulging in homicidal daydreams for years has led her to devise her own perfect and completely bizarre plan.

Although I’m fairly new to the indie author world, I’ve been around long enough to notice that

As avid readers and bloggers, we know that times are changing.  How we read, be it print or ebooks.  How authors get published, be it by big companies or independently.  Today, I will be introducing you to an author who has written 3 books, and has asked if she might visit with us and talk about her newest book, a novella.  And since my belief is that everyone needs to start somewhere, what better place to start, than right here where the visitors are fantastic and fabulous.  So please welcome Ms. McCarty Griffin!

Since first publishing Half-Inch on Smashwords in October 2010, followed closely by Monster Story in November 2010 and then The Tribe in May 2011, I’ve thrown myself into a frenzied attempt to market my own books, as does every indie author. Whether it’s writing a guest blog, or doing an interview, requesting a review, or just trying to get my book listed for readers to find and hopefully purchase, I’ve filled out forms, written queries and answered lots of questions about myself and my books. One question that probably seems obvious on its face, and probably is for many writers, is “What genre do you write?”

I realize that for most writers, whether they’re published traditionally or they’re running with the outlaws of the indie world, this question is a gimme. Stephen King, horror. Nora Roberts, romance. Sue Grafton, mystery. These talented writers are recognized masters of their genres and for that fact we are all grateful and admiring readers. Like everyone else, I have my favorite genres to read and tend to gravitate consistently to them. However, when it comes to my own writing, I’m all over the board.

My first book, Half-Inch, is a novella which I categorize as chick lit noir, although I sometimes have to call it suspense or thriller because I’ve never actually seen chick lit noir listed as a category. It’s a story about an abused woman who takes an extreme and somewhat bizarre revenge on her husband. Monster Story is just flat out horror, an old-fashioned “monster story” about a werewolf. The Tribe is a children’s book, possibly edging into young adult, about cats, which I wrote for my children. I’m currently working on two books; Sub is a futuristic sci-fi, perhaps even dystopic, and Soul Searchers might qualify as paranormal chick lit. Anyone seeing a pattern here? Or maybe a lack of pattern might be more accurate.

I can understand why some writers only write in one genre. We all have our own peculiar tastes and bents of mind, and we tend to do better when we confine our endeavors in those areas. Can you picture Stephen King writing romance or chick lit? Or Nora Roberts writing steampunk? Neither can I and that’s what sometimes give me pause, because the stories that occur to me don’t seem to fall into one set genre; they never have. I’m just compelled to write the story that blossoms in my mind without any regard for traditional categorizing or pigeonholing. I explain it to myself by thinking, “I don’t live my life in a single genre, so why should I limit myself to one in my writing?”

Of course, I worry that this may be a case of whistling in the dark. What if readers don’t accept that a writer who produced a werewolf story can also write a good children’s story or a credible sci-fi? Will I be seen as a jack of all trades, but master of none? Will readers shy away from everything I write, because they can’t pin a label on me in their minds? I’ve actually toyed with the idea of writing under more than one name, as several traditionally published authors and some indie authors have done to avoid just this problem, but I haven’t quite been able to make myself do it yet. Maybe I’m foolishly optimistic or maybe I’m blindly stubborn; I’ll just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile, I hope some of you check out my books and see for yourselves if one person can write a good werewolf story and a chick lit noir and a children’s book. Then, have some mercy on me, and other writers who wonder about that very same thing, and share your answer with the indie publishing world. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the answer is “Yes!”

Pammy has had enough of Bobby, her abusive drunk of a husband. One lovely spring day, she decides to kill him, despite the fact that they will soon be divorced and he will, at least in the eyes of the law, be out of her life for good. Indulging in homicidal daydreams for years has led her to devise her own perfect and completely bizarre plan.

Although I’m fairly new to the indie author world, I’ve been around long enough to notice that

I truly can’t describe how honored and excited I am when an author contacts me to either read and review their novel or accept my invitation to be a guest on my blog.  And today, such an invitation has been accepted.  It is my pleasure to introduce you to, Ms. Christine Nolfi, as she stops by to visit and tells us about her latest novel.  Welcome Ms. Nolfi !!

She closed the firm fifteen years ago after she traveled to the Philippines and adopted a sibling group of four children. Christine has been writing novels fulltime since 2004.

Treasure Me is the first book of the Liberty, Ohio series, available at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Treasure-Me-ebook/dp/B004XMOP9I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1304016571&sr=1-1

You can vist Christine Nolfi HERE.

The beautiful thief wants to go straight. She secretly admires the clue’s author, freedwoman Justice Postell, who rose above the horrors of slavery to build a new life in Ohio. As Birdie searches for the treasure, she begins to believe a questionable part of the story: a tale of love between Justice and Lucas Postell, the French plantation owner who was Birdie’s ancestor.

If the stories are true, Justice bore a child with Lucas. Some of those black relatives might still live in town. Birdie can’t help but wonder if she’s found one—Liberty’s feisty matriarch, Theodora Hendricks, who packs a pistol and heartwarming stories about Justice. Birdie doesn’t know that an investigative reporter who has arrived in town will trip her up—as will her conscience when she begins to wonder if it’s possible to start a new life with stolen riches. Yet with each new clue she unearths, she discovers a family history more precious than gems, a tradition of love richer than she imagined.

I truly can’t describe how honored and excited I am when an author contacts me to either read and review their novel or accept my invitation to be a guest on my blog.  And today, such an invitation has been accepted.  It is my pleasure to introduce you to, Ms. Christine Nolfi, as she stops by to visit and tells us about her latest novel.  Welcome Ms. Nolfi !!

She closed the firm fifteen years ago after she traveled to the Philippines and adopted a sibling group of four children. Christine has been writing novels fulltime since 2004.

Treasure Me is the first book of the Liberty, Ohio series, available at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Treasure-Me-ebook/dp/B004XMOP9I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1304016571&sr=1-1

You can vist Christine Nolfi HERE.

The beautiful thief wants to go straight. She secretly admires the clue’s author, freedwoman Justice Postell, who rose above the horrors of slavery to build a new life in Ohio. As Birdie searches for the treasure, she begins to believe a questionable part of the story: a tale of love between Justice and Lucas Postell, the French plantation owner who was Birdie’s ancestor.

If the stories are true, Justice bore a child with Lucas. Some of those black relatives might still live in town. Birdie can’t help but wonder if she’s found one—Liberty’s feisty matriarch, Theodora Hendricks, who packs a pistol and heartwarming stories about Justice. Birdie doesn’t know that an investigative reporter who has arrived in town will trip her up—as will her conscience when she begins to wonder if it’s possible to start a new life with stolen riches. Yet with each new clue she unearths, she discovers a family history more precious than gems, a tradition of love richer than she imagined.

Tricia from Meryl L. Moss Media is once again giving me the opportunity to host and introduce a very busy, talented and Best Selling author.  So without further ado, a very warm welcome for Ms. Lori Foster !!

Lori believes it’s important to give back to the community as much as possible, and for that reason she ran special contests in conjunction with a publisher, facilitating many first sales for new authors. She routinely organizes events among authors and readers to gather donations for various organizations.

Along with her good friend, Dianne Castell, Lori hosts a very special annual “Reader & Author” event in West Chester, Ohio. Proceeds from the event have benefited many worthy causes, including the Hamilton County YWCA Battered Women’s Shelter, the Animal Adoption Foundation, The Conductive Learning Center for children with spina bifida and cerebral palsy, and The One Way Farm, Children’s Home.

In 2007, Lori put together The Write Ingredients a cookbook of recipes donated by popular authors. Proceeds from the cookbook go toward Lori’s ongoing “Troop project” of collecting and mailing fun, and sometimes necessary, items to our troops.

In 2008, Lori coordinated with other authors of her choosing, and through Berkley, arranged for the publication of The Power of Love, a special romance anthology of novellas about empowering women. All author and agent proceeds from the anthology go to the Hamilton Co YWCA Battered women’s shelter.

In 2009, Tails of Love, another romance anthology with Lori and other contributing authors, was published through Berkley with all agent and author proceeds to benefit The Animal Adoption Foundation.

In 2010, The Gift of Love romance anthology, with Lori and other contributing authors, was published with proceeds to benefit The Conductive Learning Center, a school for children with cerebral palsy and spina bifida.

In 2011, The Promise of Love, a romance anthology with Lori and other contributing authors, will be published with proceeds to benefit the One Way Farm, a home for abused and abandoned children.

Undercover mercenary Trace Rivers loves the adrenaline rush of a well-planned mission. First he’ll earn the trust of corrupt businessman Murray Coburn, then gather the proof he needs to shut down the man’s dirty smuggling operation. It’s a perfect scheme—until Coburn’s long-lost daughter saunters in with her own deadly plan for revenge.


With a smile like an angel and fire in her eyes, Priscilla Patterson isn’t who she seems to be. But neither is the gorgeous bodyguard who ignites all her senses. Joining forces to plot Coburn’s downfall, Priss and Trace must fight the undeniable heat between them. For one wrong move, one lingering embrace will expose them to the wrath of a merciless opponent.


Watch The Trailer:

You can purchase Trace Of Fever HERE.

Tricia from Meryl L. Moss Media is once again giving me the opportunity to host and introduce a very busy, talented and Best Selling author.  So without further ado, a very warm welcome for Ms. Lori Foster !!

Lori believes it’s important to give back to the community as much as possible, and for that reason she ran special contests in conjunction with a publisher, facilitating many first sales for new authors. She routinely organizes events among authors and readers to gather donations for various organizations.

Along with her good friend, Dianne Castell, Lori hosts a very special annual “Reader & Author” event in West Chester, Ohio. Proceeds from the event have benefited many worthy causes, including the Hamilton County YWCA Battered Women’s Shelter, the Animal Adoption Foundation, The Conductive Learning Center for children with spina bifida and cerebral palsy, and The One Way Farm, Children’s Home.

In 2007, Lori put together The Write Ingredients a cookbook of recipes donated by popular authors. Proceeds from the cookbook go toward Lori’s ongoing “Troop project” of collecting and mailing fun, and sometimes necessary, items to our troops.

In 2008, Lori coordinated with other authors of her choosing, and through Berkley, arranged for the publication of The Power of Love, a special romance anthology of novellas about empowering women. All author and agent proceeds from the anthology go to the Hamilton Co YWCA Battered women’s shelter.

In 2009, Tails of Love, another romance anthology with Lori and other contributing authors, was published through Berkley with all agent and author proceeds to benefit The Animal Adoption Foundation.

In 2010, The Gift of Love romance anthology, with Lori and other contributing authors, was published with proceeds to benefit The Conductive Learning Center, a school for children with cerebral palsy and spina bifida.

In 2011, The Promise of Love, a romance anthology with Lori and other contributing authors, will be published with proceeds to benefit the One Way Farm, a home for abused and abandoned children.

Undercover mercenary Trace Rivers loves the adrenaline rush of a well-planned mission. First he’ll earn the trust of corrupt businessman Murray Coburn, then gather the proof he needs to shut down the man’s dirty smuggling operation. It’s a perfect scheme—until Coburn’s long-lost daughter saunters in with her own deadly plan for revenge.


With a smile like an angel and fire in her eyes, Priscilla Patterson isn’t who she seems to be. But neither is the gorgeous bodyguard who ignites all her senses. Joining forces to plot Coburn’s downfall, Priss and Trace must fight the undeniable heat between them. For one wrong move, one lingering embrace will expose them to the wrath of a merciless opponent.


Watch The Trailer:

You can purchase Trace Of Fever HERE.