Happy New Year 2015 everyone!
Back in the swing of things yet?
Yeah, me either, but I am trying really hard to get over my holiday hangover...so to speak. LOL
Upon returning to my author duties, I happened to find some really bad reviews for my first romance novel Troianne. Now I really don't put much stock in the reviews or rankings on Amazon.com, however, I did see some snarky remarks regarding my hard work. It took me two years to write, what took you two minutes to decide you weren't going to read it all the way through. Why...cause you don't appreciate different...it's fiction people! NOT TRUE! Made up! My minds view of things.
Authors/Writers/Poets work harder with their brains than any other person on earth. Yes, they do! You see their brains are constantly running, day and night, creating, scheming, plotting, putting words in order and sometimes out of order. Creating a work of fiction or even non-fiction takes alot of time and energy. Some of you may say...bah, she just sits around on the computer all day, some say...she doesnt have a real job, others think writing is a waste of time.
To you (some and others) I say, you have no idea what you are talking about. How dare you judge us, the people who provide you with adventurous stories, news, moments of reflection and the humorous side of life. We have taken you to the moon and back, to far off planets filled with alien life, we have take you from past to present and visa versa, We have given you encouragement, facts, rules, tips and reflection on emotions. We have provided to you weird monsters, zombies, mythical beings, ghosts, paranormal entities and creatures of the night. We have brought you the murderers, the rapists, the thieves and criminals of unspeakable crimes. You have enjoyed the erotic sex that we wrote about in the quiet hours at home alone or when the kids are asleep. We are the printed word, We are Authors/Writers/Poets. We deserve respect for the tireless hours we rack our brains and produce something we hope will entertain you. We doubt ourselves ever second of everyday, we second guess, we edit, hundreds of hours worth of work, for what?
We deserve nothing less than 3*** stars on Amazon. We deserve a Kudos, pat on the back and a thank you for being the one to put ourselves out there for the world to see in our precious work and in our good deeds for others of our profession. We have to market our own work, promote our own work, talk with others tirelessly to even sell one book. We work hard for little pay, but we do it because it is our passion, our love, our way of expressing feelings of our own and that of our characters and others who truly enjoy our work.
So the next time you leave a less than 3*** star review for any Author/Writer/Poet, think about yourself. What are you doing that people would treat you in such a manner? Would you like to be called trite, inadequate or sloppy? Would you like for someone to say that you are not worth a stupid star on a website or that your hard work is useless?
No, you would not, so why do it to one of us?
When you leave a bad review, that is a reflection of your mean and cold heart. Hint: nobody, reads bad reviews! Just sayin! Save your nasty, mean, cold hearted spirit for when you leave this earth. No one here on earth cares or wants to hear or see it.
Thank you! :)
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Subject: Time Travel
Why
Write
About Time Travel?
It's
fascinating to think that one could travel through the time space
continuum to a land of the past or future. Just think about it, to
see the things we missed by being born in a different decade, century
or
even millennium would be so awesome. To learn how we evolved as
humans and to see how we will evolve as creatures in space. I chose
Time Travel for my novels because I felt
that
the genre of fictional, historical romance needed a face lift. A
rejuvenation of sorts. Time travel is a popular theme in fiction and
has been depicted in a variety of media from television to
advertising. It can be the central theme of the plot, or merely a
plot
device
to set the story in motion.
In
some science fiction stories, time travel is included in the plot or
then again normal time speed has been slowed down. Hard science
fiction may
restrict
time travel by examining the causes and effects of time travel
paradoxes; soft science fiction, fantasy and science fantasy may
ignore
these
aspects and focus on fantastic wonders and adventures. I love Regency
and Victorian era romance novels, always have, but something was
missing,
the
element of wonder and awe. To be able to be a character who is in the
modern world and travel backwards or forwards in time seemed like the
ultimate read to me.
Others
don't see it that way. They see erotica, contemporary romance,
science fiction and horror as the money makers. This may all be true.
But for this author, time travel
is
the ultimate in cliffhanging and plot theory creation. I hope you
will enjoy some facts that I dug up regarding time travel.
Sources:
•In
ancient Hindu mythology, the Mahabharata, written around 700 B.C.
mentions the story of the King Revaita, who travels to a different
world to meet the creator Brahma. The King is shocked to learn that
many ages have passed when he returns to Earth.[4]
•Another
very old example of this type of story can be found in the Talmud,
with the story of Honi HaM'agel, written in 300 A.D., who went to
sleep for 70 years and woke up to a world where his grandchildren
were grandparents and where all his friends and family were
dead.[citation needed]
•Urashima
Taro, an early Japanese tale, involves traveling forward in time to a
distant future,[5] and was first described in the Nihongi. The tale
was about a young fisherman, named Urashima Taro, who visits an
undersea palace and stays there for three days. After returning home
to his village, he finds himself three hundred years in the future,
where he is long forgotten, his house is in ruins, and his family
long since dead.[5]
•In
Walter Map's 12th century De nugis curriculum ("Courtiers'
Trifles"), Map tells of the Briton King Herla, who is
transported with his hunting party over two centuries into the future
by the enchantment of a mysterious harlequin.
•Memoirs
of the Twentieth Century (1733), by Samuel Madden, is mainly a series
of letters from English ambassadors in various countries to the
British "Lord High Treasurer", along with a few replies
from the British foreign office, all purportedly written in 1997 and
1998 and describing the conditions of that era. However, the framing
story is that these letters were actual documents given to the
narrator by his guardian angel one night in 1728. For this reason,
Paul Alkon suggests in his book Origins of Futuristic Fiction that
"the first time-traveler in English literature is a guardian
angel who returns with state documents from 1998 to the year 1728",
although the book does not explicitly show how the angel obtained the
documents. Alkon later qualifies this by writing, "[i]t would be
stretching our generosity to praise Madden for being the first to
show a traveler arriving from the future", but he also says that
Madden "deserves recognition as the first to toy with the rich
idea of time travel in the form of an artifact sent backwards from
the future to be discovered in the present."
•In
the play Anno 7603, written by the Dano-Norwegian poet Johan Herman
Wessel in 1781, the two main characters are moved into the future (AD
7603) by a good fairy.
•In
the science fiction anthology Far Boundaries (1951), the editor
August Derleth identifies the short story Missing One's Coach: An
Anachronism, written for the Dublin University Magazine by an
anonymous author in 1838, as a very early time travel story. In it,
the narrator is waiting under a tree to be picked up by a coach which
will take him out of Newcastle when he suddenly finds himself
transported back over a thousand years. There he encounters the
Venerable Bede in a monastery, and gives him somewhat ironic
explanations of the developments of the coming centuries. It is never
entirely clear whether these events actually occurred, or were merely
a dream.
•The
book Paris avant les hommes ("Paris before Men"), by the
French botanist and geologist Pierre Boitard (published posthumously
in 1861), has the main character transported to various prehistoric
settings by the magic of a "lame demon", and who is then
able to actively interact with prehistoric life.
•The
short story The Clock that Went Backward, written by editor Edward
Page Mitchell, appeared in the New York Sun in 1881, another early
example of time travel in fiction.
•Looking
Backward (1888), by Edward Bellamy, and News from Nowhere (1890), by
William Morris, each feature a protagonist who wakes up in a
socialist utopian future.
•A
Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (1889), by Mark Twain.
•Tourmalin's
Time Cheques (1891), by Thomas Anstey Guthrie (and written under the
pseudonym F. Anstey), was the first story to explore the paradoxes
that time travel might cause.
•Golf
in the Year 2000 (1892), by J. McCullough, tells the story of an
Englishman who fell asleep in 1892 and awakened in the year 2000. The
focus of the book is how the game of golf would have changed by then,
but many social and technological themes are also discussed along the
way, including devices similar to television and women's equality.
Themes:
•Changing
the past: in this genre, a visitor to the past changes history using
knowledge and/or technology from his or her own time, either for good
or evil, creating an alternate history as a result.[citation needed]
Examples of this genre include Lest Darkness Fall by L. Sprague de
Camp and the 2009 Star Trek film.
•The
Guardians of time: in this genre, a group of people are charged with
ensuring that time turns out "properly" (i.e. protecting it
from changes by other time travelers).[citation needed] Examples of
this genre include John Schettler's Meridian series and Simon Lee's
Timekeepers. TimeRiders, a series of novels by author Alex Scarrow,
tells the story of three people who have been rescued moments before
death and recruited into a secret organization in order to prevent
time travel from unraveling history.
•Unintentional
change or fulfillment: in this genre, a time traveler intends to
observe past events, or is taken to the past against his will and
tries to return to his proper time. However, the time traveler
discovers that his actions have unintentionally altered the future
because of the Butterfly effect. A Sound of Thunder is an example of
this genre.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Spotlight on Author Gen Griffin!
Author Gen Griffin is a premiere author of The Shiners Bayou Novels. She is currently working on her second book in the series called. Releasing December 24, 2014. Her new book The Scavengers is truly going to be an epic novel. Want to get to Gen better?
Shoot an email at: gengriffinauthor@gmail.com
Follow on Twitter: @gengriffinbooks
Friend on Facebook: Gen Griffin Author
Friend or follow on TSU: Gen Griffin's TSU
Facebook Page: Gen Griffin Author Page
YOU CAN ALSO: LIKE THE SCAVENGERS ON FACEBOOK
Like Shiner's Bayou on facebook
Catching Skunks
Shiner's Bayou Book Two
Trish Shallowman feels like her life has been put on pause. She has a fiance who keeps pushing back the wedding date, a job with no start date and a car that breaks down on alternating Wednesdays.
When Trish's mother asks her to temporarily move to Shiner's Bayou and take care of her ailing grandfather, Trish figures that a change of scenery can't make her situation in life any worse.
She wasn't expecting to spend most of her days trying to prevent her grandfather from shooting at the mailman or that her impossibly gorgeous neighbor would decide he wanted to be her first ever one-night-stand. She definitely wasn't expecting that two months in Shiner's Bayou would make her question whether the future she's spent so much time waiting for is really the future she wants.
http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Skunks-Shiners-Bayou-Novel-ebook/dp/B00QWG6QPO/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=gengriautandw-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=JF7IEFDDEIQOXS7H&creativeASIN=B00QWG6QPO
When Trish's mother asks her to temporarily move to Shiner's Bayou and take care of her ailing grandfather, Trish figures that a change of scenery can't make her situation in life any worse.
She wasn't expecting to spend most of her days trying to prevent her grandfather from shooting at the mailman or that her impossibly gorgeous neighbor would decide he wanted to be her first ever one-night-stand. She definitely wasn't expecting that two months in Shiner's Bayou would make her question whether the future she's spent so much time waiting for is really the future she wants.
http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Skunks-Shiners-Bayou-Novel-ebook/dp/B00QWG6QPO/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=gengriautandw-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=JF7IEFDDEIQOXS7H&creativeASIN=B00QWG6QPO
Excerpt:
The trailer was on fire and David couldn't force enough air into his lungs to breathe. The ancient single-wide was going up in a ball of orange and red. Flames were licking their way up the walls in the hallway. The walls burned like they were made of thin paper. Embers flew in all directions. One of the embers caught his chin, burning into his flesh as sharply as a lit cigarette would have.
In a distant part of his mind, David wondered if Addison had come home from work and fallen asleep in bed with a lit cigarette. He wondered if Addison had burned to death in his bed, less than 100 feet away from where David was sitting now, watching the flames approach. The thought of his best friend dying jarred David back to the reality of his own situation. He was going to be a very crispy critter if he didn't move. Now.
David flung the comforter away from him as the edge of it began to smoke. He was never going to make it out the front door of the trailer. The hallway between his bedroom and the door was totally engulfed in flames. The windows would be his best option. Unfortunately, the windows had been stuck shut for a couple of years now. He grabbed hold of the 12 gauge shotgun that he always kept beside the bed. He smashed the butt of the gun into the glass of the window. The window gave with a loud crack. Three more solid strikes and the glass was gone, lying on the ground below like a spiteful booby-trap.
The room was filling with smoke now. Flames were spreading across the carpeting of the room. David tossed his shotgun out the window and then jumped out after it, landing barefoot in the broken glass below. Flames came whooshing out the window behind him a moment later as the curtains caught fire. Somewhere in the distance, sirens were screaming.
Someone grabbed David by the arm and began dragging him back away from the burning building. “Get up. Dammit, David. Get up. I can't-cough- fucking – cough – carry you.”
David looked up at Addison blearily. He felt dazed and disoriented. “You're not dead.”
“Not at the moment, but we will be if the damned propane tank behind the house goes.” Addison yanked David to his feet. He was dragging him backwards, away from the flaming trailer. Pieces of the roof of the trailer were starting to come off in burning chunks. One of the burning shingles landed next to David's foot. Addison stomped on it.
“My truck,” David's eyes fell on the Toyota, which was sitting parked in its usual spot next to the front porch. The hood was engulfed with flames. It burned like a funeral pyre, sending flames 15 feet into the air.
“Too late for the truck,” Addison kept pulling David towards the highway. David wanted to go back to the trailer. He wanted to try and save his truck. Addison wouldn't let him go. “Dammit David, come on.”
There was a strong breeze tonight, David realized. The fire was likely to spread to the woods that surrounded his house. Addison was right. The fire was going to spread to the old, and probably still full, propane tank behind the house.
“The fire is going to spread to the propane tank.” David barely realized he'd said the words out loud.
“No shit,” Addison had to fight against the smoke filled air to get the words out. “I just said that.”
All of a sudden, David could think again. At least, he could think enough to realize that if they didn't put a whole lot more distance between themselves and the fire, they were probably about to die. David quit fighting against Addison. “We should run away now,” David told him.
“You think?” Addison wheezed as he released David's arm.
“Yeah.”
They ran.
Feeding Gators
The trailer was on fire and David couldn't force enough air into his lungs to breathe. The ancient single-wide was going up in a ball of orange and red. Flames were licking their way up the walls in the hallway. The walls burned like they were made of thin paper. Embers flew in all directions. One of the embers caught his chin, burning into his flesh as sharply as a lit cigarette would have.
In a distant part of his mind, David wondered if Addison had come home from work and fallen asleep in bed with a lit cigarette. He wondered if Addison had burned to death in his bed, less than 100 feet away from where David was sitting now, watching the flames approach. The thought of his best friend dying jarred David back to the reality of his own situation. He was going to be a very crispy critter if he didn't move. Now.
David flung the comforter away from him as the edge of it began to smoke. He was never going to make it out the front door of the trailer. The hallway between his bedroom and the door was totally engulfed in flames. The windows would be his best option. Unfortunately, the windows had been stuck shut for a couple of years now. He grabbed hold of the 12 gauge shotgun that he always kept beside the bed. He smashed the butt of the gun into the glass of the window. The window gave with a loud crack. Three more solid strikes and the glass was gone, lying on the ground below like a spiteful booby-trap.
The room was filling with smoke now. Flames were spreading across the carpeting of the room. David tossed his shotgun out the window and then jumped out after it, landing barefoot in the broken glass below. Flames came whooshing out the window behind him a moment later as the curtains caught fire. Somewhere in the distance, sirens were screaming.
Someone grabbed David by the arm and began dragging him back away from the burning building. “Get up. Dammit, David. Get up. I can't-cough- fucking – cough – carry you.”
David looked up at Addison blearily. He felt dazed and disoriented. “You're not dead.”
“Not at the moment, but we will be if the damned propane tank behind the house goes.” Addison yanked David to his feet. He was dragging him backwards, away from the flaming trailer. Pieces of the roof of the trailer were starting to come off in burning chunks. One of the burning shingles landed next to David's foot. Addison stomped on it.
“My truck,” David's eyes fell on the Toyota, which was sitting parked in its usual spot next to the front porch. The hood was engulfed with flames. It burned like a funeral pyre, sending flames 15 feet into the air.
“Too late for the truck,” Addison kept pulling David towards the highway. David wanted to go back to the trailer. He wanted to try and save his truck. Addison wouldn't let him go. “Dammit David, come on.”
There was a strong breeze tonight, David realized. The fire was likely to spread to the woods that surrounded his house. Addison was right. The fire was going to spread to the old, and probably still full, propane tank behind the house.
“The fire is going to spread to the propane tank.” David barely realized he'd said the words out loud.
“No shit,” Addison had to fight against the smoke filled air to get the words out. “I just said that.”
All of a sudden, David could think again. At least, he could think enough to realize that if they didn't put a whole lot more distance between themselves and the fire, they were probably about to die. David quit fighting against Addison. “We should run away now,” David told him.
“You think?” Addison wheezed as he released David's arm.
“Yeah.”
They ran.
Feeding Gators
The Shiners Book One
Not wanting to sleep with someone isn't a crime, unless you kill the guy who won't take no for an answer. Austin's body isn't even cold on the floorboards when Gracie Malone decides that the best way to deal with an accidental murder is to pretend it never happened. Accompanied by the most notorious alleged murderer in her small hometown of Shiner's Bayou, her womanizing big brother and the ex-boyfriend she's never going to get over, Gracie knows she needs to hide the body and get rid of all the evidence before Austin is even reported missing.
Disposing of a corpse is never an easy task, but doing the dirty work becomes much dirtier when Gracie and her friends have to deal with a newly minted Sheriff's Deputy looking to avenge an old grudge. With Eddie hot on their heels, Gracie is doing everything she can to get away with murder before someone else gets added to the body count.
http://www.amazon.com/Feeding-Gators-Shiners-Bayou-Series-ebook/dp/B00KPHNBFY/ref=as_sl_pc_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=gengriautandw-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=KMENJUDTUWL62XMJ&creativeASIN=B00KPHNBFY
Excerpt From Novel:
David had always liked the creek at night, but his fondness for the dark, murky water didn't make him any more eager to go swimming in it. There was a certain element of risk associated with going deep into the depths of the actual Bayou that Shiner's Bayou had been named for at night smelling strongly of blood and raw meat. After all, it wasn't just chock full of crickets. Plenty of alligators lived in the depths of Shiner's Bayou.
He pressed the barrel of his shotgun into the bottom of the 12 foot jon boat he had used to haul Austin Putterling's body to the alligator infested moonshine still in the heart of the bayou and pulled the trigger. He repeated the process three more times until he was satisfied with the amount of dark creek water that was rapidly flowing into the bottom of the boat.
He'd heard too much about carpet fibers, finger prints and the itty bitty drops of DNA that could survive months of exposure to the elements and cleaning products. He'd used his boat to get rid of Austin and now he had to get rid of his boat.
He was going to miss the boat.
David had always liked the creek at night, but his fondness for the dark, murky water didn't make him any more eager to go swimming in it. There was a certain element of risk associated with going deep into the depths of the actual Bayou that Shiner's Bayou had been named for at night smelling strongly of blood and raw meat. After all, it wasn't just chock full of crickets. Plenty of alligators lived in the depths of Shiner's Bayou.
He pressed the barrel of his shotgun into the bottom of the 12 foot jon boat he had used to haul Austin Putterling's body to the alligator infested moonshine still in the heart of the bayou and pulled the trigger. He repeated the process three more times until he was satisfied with the amount of dark creek water that was rapidly flowing into the bottom of the boat.
He'd heard too much about carpet fibers, finger prints and the itty bitty drops of DNA that could survive months of exposure to the elements and cleaning products. He'd used his boat to get rid of Austin and now he had to get rid of his boat.
He was going to miss the boat.
The Scavengers
Available December 24, 2014
It has been 28 years, 14 weeks and 9 days since a virus had turned more than half of the world's human population into zombies. More than 95 percent of the population died within 6 months of the initial infection. Those who survived holed up wherever they could find safety.My parents found their safety in the Cube, a building that was originally built as a prison for violent criminals. Mom and Dad have always told me the sacrifices we made to live in the Cube were worth it because we were safe.
Its been 13 days, 12 hours and 42 minutes since my parents disappeared without a trace from our apartment inside the Cube.
I'm going to leave the Cube for the first time today. Maybe I'll find my parents. Maybe, I'll be eaten by the zombies.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Scavengers-Gen-Griffin-ebook/dp/B00QQQ9FV2/ref=as_sl_pc_tf_til?tag=gengriautandw-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=JYBLOGG2LUQ3TSH4&creativeASIN=B00QQQ9FV2
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Crying Can Be Therapeutic!
Have a good Christmas cry!

Missing loved ones this time of year can be overwhelming. I find that this year is worse than others. All of my grown children have their own lives here in my own state and out of state. Years ago when the children were all home it was a splendid time of laughter, presents, food and fun. Now it is quiet, lonely, long, cold nights. I am not wanting to celebrate anything. Oh I do celebrate Jesus birth and I pray for better days to come. I have found that the only way to get over this melacholy is to just sit and have a good cry. While it doesnt solve anything at all. It does refresh my brain in a way that I can focus more clearly on the mundane tasks of everyday life. So this year if you are missingloved ones and do not know what to do to stop the empty, sorrowful feelings, well…have a good cry. Go ahead, nobody cares. Just pull out all the photos of years past and have a good bawling session.
Remember the Kleenex and glass of water. :)
No one can make you feel better but you. Hugs and love to all this winter.
Author Victoria Bright is in the Spotlight!
The incomparable Victoria Bright, brings you the best in hot, steamy, romance. I personally guarantee if you read these books you will be wanting more from this author. Hot, Steamy, Sexy!
Love Unbroken, Love Reborn and The Daring Assignment.
Get your copies today!
http://www.amazon.com/Love-Unbroken-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00DCG3Q1Y/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1418317885&sr=1-3&keywords=Victoria+Bright
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