Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie

Two determined authors, bulletproof and dangerous…


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What is Your Favourite Pastime?

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Someone asked me this question the other day and I had to hesitate before answering. I thought it would be writing or reading, but other hobbies pushed the word aside. And it is true, there are so many things that I enjoy doing. There are also many things I no longer have the time for.

The next question is usually, “but one of them must be special in some way?”

Again, there isn’t just one that comes to mind and this must be true for most people.

Depending on our mood, we like doing different things. For instance, my writing mind works best first thing in the morning. Later in the day, I have trouble writing anything. And when I am tired, I like to spend time in the garden with my bonsai.

I love jigsaw puzzles too, but these days I prefer to do them on line. So much choice, easier to do, no more juggling hundreds of pieces on limited table space. You can’t lose any of the pieces either.

In many ways, I realise that all my favourite pastimes are very similar. They all involve a degree of patience, attention to detail and an over active imagination.

At the moment, I have a huge pile of work in progress. Two fiction books to finish, a collection of short stories to prepare for publication and various editing jobs for Anita’s books, not to mention a veritable queue of reviews to finish.

My collection of bonsai should come quite high on my list, as they always need something doing. There is a very good reason they are never considered finished. They continue to grow and need constant attention. Plus, they are all different ages with different needs.

Add to this list, two crochet projects and a pile of dressmaking as yet unfinished. And all those other urgent things that hide in my brain, lulling me into a false sense of achievement.

So the answer to the original question, what is my favourite pastime, should be . . .

 

“My favourite pastime is living and enjoying everything I do get around to. . .”


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Rosie’s #BookReviewTeam #RBRT Cleaved by Sue Coletta @SueColetta1

 

#RBRT Review Team

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Cleaved     by Sue Coletta… to be released 3rd May


Cleaved … such an old fashioned emotive word and one used to great effect in this thrilling crime story.

This crime thriller opens with a gripping prologue. A woman is trapped inside a steel drum, terrified for her life. You are instantly there with her, experiencing every gruesome and terrifying moment as she tries to escape.

Somewhere in the Lake Region of New England, a ruthless killer is on the prowl. He needs to kill Sage Quintano, the author wife of the Sheriff, Niko Quintano, but his reason is not clear.

Someone starts to follow Sage, tormenting her with a nursery rhyme and then her world starts to fall apart. I loved the way the chapters alternated sometimes, as the two women in the story, Sage and her husband’s female deputy, Frankie Campanelli take turns to build the tension and the story, and you couldn’t have two more different women than these.

I thought the plot and storyline were expertly handled, for despite all the confusing clues I couldn’t  tell the guilty from the innocent. The dialogue was handled well, with arguments strongly portrayed and believable. The tension builds gradually, almost painfully so. I read somewhere that the author actually experienced being inside a steel drum, for the sake of realism, I hope!

The interaction with the Quintano dogs, Colt and Ruger, was rather special too, the scene where Sage and the dogs comfort one another was really moving.

I would have preferred an English vocabulary, as some of the terms used were unfamiliar to me. And I’m not sure about the over-description of the maggots!

I will be reading Marred, the first book in this series, as I know I will enjoy that one too, and I can find out what happened to Sage’s sister…

Book Description

Author Sage Quintano writes about crime. Her husband Niko investigates it. Together they make an unstoppable team. But no one counted on a twisted serial killer, who stalks their sleepy community, uproots their happy home, and splits the threads that binds their family unit.
Darkness swallows the Quintano’s whole–ensnared by a ruthless killer out for blood. Why he focused on Sage remains a mystery, but he won’t stop till she dies like the others.
Women impaled by deer antlers, bodies encased in oil drums, nursery rhymes, and the Suicide King. What connects these cryptic clues? For Sage and Niko, the truth may be more terrifying than they ever imagined.

(Thank you to the author and to #RBRT for my #Free review copy)


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Our Cornish Book…

Let it Go_Haiku

An excerpt from Let it Go…

My footsteps felt lighter once we were inside. I was surprised by what I saw. The room was small but clean and tidy. Dried herbs hung over the fireplace, and there were several pieces of strong wooden furniture. One soft armchair stood next to the hearth. There were no ornaments, and no dust or cobwebs to be seen. I had the feeling they wouldn’t be allowed in here. The air itself didn’t seem to move as if time stood still.

Samuel asked us to sit down. ‘I have been expecting you.’

I chose one of the wooden chairs that stood around the table, and as I sat down, a strong feeling of peace enveloped me, like being inside an empty church. My romantic side would describe it as a feeling of coming home. Mark, with his Sixties kind of mind, probably noticed it before we came in.

He sat down at the table, on the chair nearest to me. Samuel reappeared with a tray. He hadn’t asked if we wanted tea and I hadn’t even noticed him move to make it. I was too busy looking around the place like a local tourist. He put bone china cups and saucers in front of us. The orange liquid smelled slightly perfumed, a pleasant smell.

Mark noticed me wrinkling my nose.

‘Cinnamon,’ he said. ‘Drink it, it’s good.’

I took a sip, and it was spicy on my tongue. I put it down, rather too quickly.

‘No thanks.’

Samuel had sat himself down in the armchair. It was strange, but seeing him sitting down, I noticed how long his legs were. His clothes were almost threadbare, but his large black boots had a shine on them. When he spoke again all the fear in me slipped away. There was no harm in this man, this man born of fire. He must have heard the stories as he grew up but they hadn’t left their mark on him. Was it Ruth who had done such a good job of mothering, or was it Martha’s genes he carried into the Despite the fact, she had been playing with the fire, which eventually took her life.

He spoke without looking at us. Mark reached across the table and laid his hand over mine. I didn’t need the reassurance he offered, but I didn’t move my hand or look at him. My eyes were on Samuel, ears at attention.

‘You found Morgan’s diary, been letting the writing get to you. Asking too many questions and spending long hours in the house of books. There’s nothing in there to help, should have come to see me sooner. Save time and a lot of mixed up feelings.’

I found enough air in my lungs to speak and said I had plenty of time to spare, that my feelings were fine. ‘But I do believe someone should be held accountable for what happened to Martha,’

The sound of her name didn’t seem to mean anything to him. I saw no change in his face or voice.

‘Why?’ He said. It didn’t appear to be a question. ‘Keep pain alive, when living is pain enough for far too many people? I know the story of my birth and the things they have said about the mother who bore me. Of Ruth, who fed and clothed me and taught me how to help even when help was not asked for.’

Mark had told me all about the herbs being left on people’s doorsteps when they were needed. About one young girl who might have died had Samuel not helped her. They actually used these herbs while speaking so ill of him, yet leaving food outside his door as payment.

‘There are many good stories in the Bible. I will tell you something from it. Look to the living, leave the dead to take care of the dead.’

As he spoke these words, looking directly at me for the first time, I felt strange, all empty inside, as if some part of me had been scooped out. I knew what it was without him saying it. My need to punish them had simply left me. But what did ‘look to the living’ mean?

He looked at me with those pale grey eyes that darkened with the words he spoke next.

‘You have a sister, a small part of yourself.’

God, I had never thought of Sally like that, nor would she like me to. He was right though, she was a part of me.

‘You need to watch over her, keep her close to you.’

I told him then this wasn’t something Sally would let me do.

‘No matter. It’s to her you need to give your concern.’

Then I asked him why to say what was in his mind in plain English.

‘Sally appears to have been marked by an early death, one of her own making.’

This reminded me of something Nan had said, about Sally drowning in a storm of her own making.

Samuel couldn’t explain what he felt. ‘The visions are too vague as yet. They will come, and then I will find a way to let you know.’

It didn’t help me much. He had just told me Sally would die as if the Mafia had a contract out on her, and I had to wait?

I was getting more than a little annoyed at his Bible prophecies, as good as double Dutch when there was nothing you could do about them. My initial instinct had been right. I should have walked away. I shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have let Mark lead me through the door.

I knew Martha and the diary would all take a back seat now. That my stupid mind would play tricks on me, waking and sleeping about Sally. The hands of death reaching far too early for her immortal soul.

*******************************************************************************

People often ask us if we have a competitive partnership, and to be honest, I don’t think we do. So far, our achievements have been pretty equal, although I will always admit that Anita is the far better writer.

So, it came as a bit of a surprise, that when I mentioned how many hits my book The Last Life had just received on Amazon’s KDP, (137 plus one print copy) Anita came back with “I don’t usually get that many, do I?”

Not really a question I could answer, but it will really be interesting to see how many Let it Go gets as it is now #Free on Amazon for the next five days.

Will you make her day and prove my theory?

Universal Amazon Link:      myBook.to/LetGo

 

 

 


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Ben interviews Author Jaye Marie

Ben Starling

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Welcome, Jaye! Tell us a little about yourself and your work. How did you get started writing?

DSC02093I had no intention of becoming a writer. I loved to read, and for most of my life that was enough for me. More than enough really, for I am a compulsive reader and will read anything I can put my hands on. Present me with a bookshelf full of books, and I will start at one end and read my way to the other.

Then I offered to edit my sister’s books. She hates computers, so I offered to type them up too. Before I knew it, my brain began to explore what other things I could be doing.

I tried to ignore that inner voice, for I was busy enough. Anita was writing faster than I could format, and there were all my other interests too. Gardening, DIY, dressmaking and a…

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Would You Like a Perfect Life?

 

Who wouldn’t?

But could you describe in great detail the perfect life you would have if you could create it yourself?

First, you have to decide on the basics, the where, what and when.  Then you will need to create a pros and cons list to help you compare your life now with one you want to create. List all the things/people/ scenarios that need changing and why.

Make a list of exactly what you would need to do to make it work. Then make another list detailing how nothing would change if you do nothing.

Do you believe in your dream and yourself enough to make it happen? Or do you intend to wait until everything looks easy?

Consider what would need to be done and if you could actually do it?

Do you trust yourself enough to make these judgements?

Do you find yourself making bargains with yourself – If I can do this then that is possible?

Once you know, really know what you want to do, are you brave enough to do it? Or will it be just a daydream, a constant torment of what you cannot have?

How do you get past the lifelong notion that good things only ever happen to other people? Have always happened to other people, like in the movies?

How do you get around the idea that you are too old to entertain any of this? Simply writing things down does not make things happen or fears go away.  Does it? No it does not.

If what you want to do or change is so huge, can you test yourself and the theory with a smaller goal? What else do you want or need, or is this just another stalling mechanism?

Maybe you should focus on something beyond your capabilities. (overreach yourself.)

This is something I do all the time.  I never think ‘I can’t do that’. Being a bit of an crafts person, I look at something I like, usually expensive or unattainable and think, ‘can I make one of those? and I have a go.

You know, most of the time what I come up with is pretty good, even if I do say so myself.  Maybe I was a forger or counterfeiter in a former life.  I think the moral is that you have to try, as you don’t know what will happen. (and it can be a lot of fun!)

 

My Not so Perfect Life

Throughout my life, disasters of one kind or another have befallen me, both before I was old enough to do something about them and afterwards.

I never made lists of the things I wanted to change, of all the things, people, events that were wrong in my life.

No, I just got on with life (such as it was) and soldiered on, changing what bits I could and keeping my mind on everything else that I wanted to be different.

Some things I have never been able to change, and it has not been for the want of trying! But my mind never lets go of the idea of my perfect life. My Shangri-La.

But again, nothing changes. Same old hopes and dreams and frustrations.

I know what I want, but something stops me from doing anything about it. So what the hell is it?

I have always resisted new things, but usually have the courage to do what is necessary. But this time, what I want is seemingly selfish and will upset a lot of people.

Is it worth it?

Will I regret it?

Do I still want to do it anyway?

We have to stop putting up with things- out of duty, guilt, pity- or simply the dislike of change.

We have to recognise what we no longer need. They say if you haven’t used something for a year, you should throw it away. (and that can apply to anything)

Start with little things and build up to the big stuff. Somewhere along the way you will get braver. (Hopefully)

Mark bad days on the calendar and at the end of the month count them. Were there more bad days than good? If there is,  something needs to be done and soon.

There are more bad days than I would like on my own calendar, but not as many as there once were. For not only have I changed a lot over the last few years, my acceptance levels are different too. I no longer yearn for what is obviously impractical and I’m afraid that has a lot to do with my advancing years. They say that youth is wasted on the young and I guess that’s right. I sure as hell wasted a lot of mine, but what is done…

Jaye


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Make an Author Smile…

LLsss

The #Free promotion on Amazon for The Last Life is coming to an end, and I wanted to thank everyone who has snapped up a copy. The response has been amazing!

I try not to think about reviews, and how many of you will be kind enough to say a few words about my book on Amazon, but it is difficult not to. Without your comments, we writers have no real idea of what you think, and we need to. This is how we go on writing, getting better as we go, and this would be so much easier to do if we knew you liked our work even a little bit.

I know some of you have no idea about reviews, that it must be a complicated thing to do, but believe me, it isn’t. Amazon make it really simple. Just find the book on Amazon and scroll down to where you will find other reviews (or not, as the case may be) and type in your comment. You don’t have to say much either, one simple sentence and the amount of stars of your choice and that’s all there is to it. Then you can go about your day, knowing you have just put a smile on an author’s face.

So far, I haven’t had much to smile about today, so how about it?

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