Category: Uncategorized

Welcome to the Open Book Blog Hop. Our topic this week was “Announcements; Controversial topics, industry news, parallels between events and your writing, topic or genre.”

So first off, an announcement. I’ll be at Comic Con Cheyenne May 13, 14, 15th. I’ll have giveaways, books for sale, and other goodies. I hope you’ll drop by and say hi if you’re there!

And moving right along to the rest of the post—I wasn’t sure how to approach it as I make a point of avoiding political discussions in my public persona.

But anyone who reads my books should be able to detect an underlying theme. I’m a strong proponent of equal rights for women. As much as we like to pretend otherwise, women in the United States still aren’t on equal footing with men in many professions or in many other areas of life in general.(I won’t even mention the many parts of the world where women are in worse shape than the US.)

That’s one of the challenges the wolf shifters in my Free Wolves series are facing. The pack structure traditionally delegated leadership positions to males only. Although Gavin Fairwood, the current pack leader is making headway on changing that, many other packs in North America haven’t even thought about it.

But even within the pack, his efforts don’t go unchallenged. People get used to the status qou and change ins’t easy. Much like our society that still doesn’t accept that women are capable of doing much more than the traditional roles portrayed in old movies. Not every woman wants to be a mother or a nurse or teacher. Some of us work in IT and can tear apart or build a computer as well as any male technician.

Yet there are still males that want to control us, who think that just because we have periods that
we’re somehow not rational or dependable. Men who think that a mother nursing her child is disgusting and that it should be hidden away from view. Men who believe that by controlling our bodies and sexuality they can enslave our minds. And there are still women who have been trained to see other women as competition for available males rather than as sisters.

So I cheer as my female wolves discover they are capable of doing things that only the males have been allowed to do in the past. I celebrate each time one of my female wolves breaks a long-standing if unwritten rule that serves only to deny them equal rights. Or even a written one that needs changed. And I smile when a male wolf backs up the female and helps her on her journey.

We women have come a long way. A woman is a serious contender for the White House. The glass ceiling in business is starting to develop a few cracks. But one look at TV commercials and ads in magazines will tell you there’s still a long way to go.

Women’s rights isn’t the only issue I tackle in my books. You’ll just have to read them to spot some of the other political issues I mention.  You can find out where to buy them on the My Books page of this blog. I’ll make it easy for you ti find. Here it is! My Books

Please feel free to leave comments below before you move along to another blog on this hop. I’m looking forward to seeing what some of the authors have say.

“March 21- Events/Announcements/Updates Post – Controversial topics, industry news, parallels between events and your writing, topic or genre.
Rules:
1. Link your blog to this hop.
2. Notify your following that you are participating in this blog hop.
3. Promise to visit/leave a comment on all participants’ blogs.
4. Tweet/or share each person’s blog post. Use ?#?OpenBook? when tweeting.
5. Put a banner on your blog that you are participating.
WordPress:



Custom Blog:

Code for Link:

get the InLinkz code
“

Welcome to the Open Book Blog Hop. Our topic this week was “Announcements; Controversial topics, industry news, parallels between events and your writing, topic or genre.”

So first off, an announcement. I’ll be at Comic Con Cheyenne May 13, 14, 15th. I’ll have giveaways, books for sale, and other goodies. I hope you’ll drop by and say hi if you’re there!

And moving right along to the rest of the post—I wasn’t sure how to approach it as I make a point of avoiding political discussions in my public persona.

But anyone who reads my books should be able to detect an underlying theme. I’m a strong proponent of equal rights for women. As much as we like to pretend otherwise, women in the United States still aren’t on equal footing with men in many professions or in many other areas of life in general.(I won’t even mention the many parts of the world where women are in worse shape than the US.)

That’s one of the challenges the wolf shifters in my Free Wolves series are facing. The pack structure traditionally delegated leadership positions to males only. Although Gavin Fairwood, the current pack leader is making headway on changing that, many other packs in North America haven’t even thought about it.

But even within the pack, his efforts don’t go unchallenged. People get used to the status qou and change ins’t easy. Much like our society that still doesn’t accept that women are capable of doing much more than the traditional roles portrayed in old movies. Not every woman wants to be a mother or a nurse or teacher. Some of us work in IT and can tear apart or build a computer as well as any male technician.

Yet there are still males that want to control us, who think that just because we have periods that
we’re somehow not rational or dependable. Men who think that a mother nursing her child is disgusting and that it should be hidden away from view. Men who believe that by controlling our bodies and sexuality they can enslave our minds. And there are still women who have been trained to see other women as competition for available males rather than as sisters.

So I cheer as my female wolves discover they are capable of doing things that only the males have been allowed to do in the past. I celebrate each time one of my female wolves breaks a long-standing if unwritten rule that serves only to deny them equal rights. Or even a written one that needs changed. And I smile when a male wolf backs up the female and helps her on her journey.

We women have come a long way. A woman is a serious contender for the White House. The glass ceiling in business is starting to develop a few cracks. But one look at TV commercials and ads in magazines will tell you there’s still a long way to go.

Women’s rights isn’t the only issue I tackle in my books. You’ll just have to read them to spot some of the other political issues I mention.  You can find out where to buy them on the My Books page of this blog. I’ll make it easy for you ti find. Here it is! My Books

Please feel free to leave comments below before you move along to another blog on this hop. I’m looking forward to seeing what some of the authors have say.

“March 21- Events/Announcements/Updates Post – Controversial topics, industry news, parallels between events and your writing, topic or genre.
Rules:
1. Link your blog to this hop.
2. Notify your following that you are participating in this blog hop.
3. Promise to visit/leave a comment on all participants’ blogs.
4. Tweet/or share each person’s blog post. Use ?#?OpenBook? when tweeting.
5. Put a banner on your blog that you are participating.
Wordpress:

Custom Blog:

Code for Link:

get the InLinkz code
“

Today Nathan D. Maki and his book “a War Within” have dropped by for the Egg-cerpt Exchange. as it’s based in the days of the Roman Empire. Please read on!

Blurb:
How far would you go to free your mother from slavery?
Suzanna ben Ya’ir is a slave to the king of Hatra, the indomitable fortress city. She dreams of escaping the harem and finding her way back to Rome to find her son, but she is held prisoner by the king’s soldiers, towering walls, and untold miles of murderous desert. To escape she must earn coins as a healer among the common folk of the city and join forces with a Hatran guard who secretly loves her. But when the Roman legions arrive to besiege the city her hope of escape seems more unattainable than ever.
Theudas ben Ya’ir is a fierce warrior and a member of the Roman Emperor’s guard, but he also harbors a deadly secret – he is a Christian. Theudas longs to find his mother and rescue her from slavery, but the Emperor, his legions, and Plautianus – the ruthless leader of the Praetorians – are besieging the city where she is held captive. Now Theudas must break the Roman siege and infiltrate the hostile city, find his mother and help her escape. But doing so will mean committing treason against the Emperor. Will his quest cost Theudas his new-found faith and the life of the woman he loves?
With Suzanna’s life hanging in the balance, can she and Theudas defy the odds and reunite? And if so, can they hope to survive?
Excerpt:
Suzanna wept with shame. She wept for the hope of escape that she knew to be false even as she clung to it. The paltry few coins she managed to save would never be enough to convince a merchant to risk the wrath of the king by smuggling her out of this city and across the wasteland surrounding it. The course of her life stretched out before her, as clear and brutal as the sandy, sun-baked road that led west toward the life she would never see again. She would go from the harem to the scullery as her beauty continued to fade, and finally, long after all color had been bleached from her life, to the grave.
She tried to reach for her faith, fumbled for it with groping fingers. She could brush it, could feel the residual warmth of the fire that once burned in her, but she couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t stir it to life again. Jehovah had forsaken her and so she knelt in a pile of rotting garbage against a filthy stone wall and wept.
Her pain seemed inexhaustible but her tears were not and finally her shuddering shoulders slowed and her sobs subsided. She was leaning against the wall now, her cheek against cold stone. In that moment, Suzanna felt a strange sense of clarity. She had two choices. She could lay here and die, or get up and go on. It was the hardest decision she had ever faced.
In the end, a dying man made the decision for her.
Tonight is the night Binyamin will pass from this world and I must be there to ease that passing. I must be there. I must get up. I must make at least this one last effort.
The heat of the day was fully gone now and she was stiff with cold. She struggled to her feet and stared up at the crooked slice of starry sky above. What time was it? Time had had no meaning while she wept. It could have been minutes or hours. But it was still darkest night. She still had time. She brushed at her the skirt of her tunic in a futile effort to wipe away the muck, then swept a sleeve across her eyes and beneath her nose. Stepping free of the alley she looked around, took her bearings, and started off at a pained shuffle.
Movement worked the cold stiffness from her limbs and she began walking faster as if trying to shake off and leave behind the depression and hopelessness that had threatened to crush her. She had a purpose this night, reason enough to live.
For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion. The proverb came, unbidden, to her mind. And along with it came a thought, a feeling, a whisper on the wind. Theudas yet lives. She couldn’t tell where the assurance came from, had no way to prove it as true, and yet she suddenly knew it. Knew it like her own name. She quickened her steps still more.
Where there is life, there is hope.
Purchase Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/War-Within-Nathan-D-Maki-ebook/dp/B013RY410K/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Website: http://nathandmaki.com/shop/

Author Bio:

As a kid, Nathan D. Maki delighted in leaping through the door of historical fiction and into the adventure of the ancient world. In his teens, his love for reading birthed a desire to write and bring history alive for others. Nathan has always been fascinated with the monumental power and enduring achievements of the Roman Empire and its asymmetrical clash with Early Christianity. As a Christian, he is inspired by stories of triumphant faith in the face of persecution, and he hopes these stories will inspire others as well.

Character Interview of Suzanna ben Ya’ir

4. Birthdate and 5. Birthplace

Suzanna was born a slave in Rome in AD 161. She was descended from Jewish slaves captured in the Judeo-Roman war a hundred years before.

3. Level of schooling, or self-taught

As a child, she learned healing from her master, a Greek physician, and after being sold upon his death she further developed her natural talent through hands-on experience, nursing her master’s wife and other slaves in the household.

9. Significant other

She married a fellow Jewish slave, Luke, and they had a son, Theudas. After Theudas fought their master’s son and Luke defended him, both father and son were sold to be gladiators.

6. Currently residing in…

Luke died in the Coliseum, and Suzanna was transported to Parthia and sold into the harem of the king of Hatra, the Parthian desert fortress.

2. Job and 10. Most important goal

There, with the help of a sympathetic guard, she slips away at night to nurse the poor, hording the few coins she receives in payment in hopes of one day buying passage back to Rome with a caravan.

14. Secret desire or fantasy and 11. Worst fear or nightmare

Her secret dream is to be reunited with her son, while her greatest fear is that she will die alone and forgotten.

Today Nathan D. Maki and his book “a War Within” have dropped by for the Egg-cerpt Exchange. as it’s based in the days of the Roman Empire. Please read on!

Blurb:
How far would you go to free your mother from slavery?
Suzanna ben Ya’ir is a slave to the king of Hatra, the indomitable fortress city. She dreams of escaping the harem and finding her way back to Rome to find her son, but she is held prisoner by the king’s soldiers, towering walls, and untold miles of murderous desert. To escape she must earn coins as a healer among the common folk of the city and join forces with a Hatran guard who secretly loves her. But when the Roman legions arrive to besiege the city her hope of escape seems more unattainable than ever.
Theudas ben Ya’ir is a fierce warrior and a member of the Roman Emperor’s guard, but he also harbors a deadly secret – he is a Christian. Theudas longs to find his mother and rescue her from slavery, but the Emperor, his legions, and Plautianus – the ruthless leader of the Praetorians – are besieging the city where she is held captive. Now Theudas must break the Roman siege and infiltrate the hostile city, find his mother and help her escape. But doing so will mean committing treason against the Emperor. Will his quest cost Theudas his new-found faith and the life of the woman he loves?
With Suzanna’s life hanging in the balance, can she and Theudas defy the odds and reunite? And if so, can they hope to survive?
Excerpt:
Suzanna wept with shame. She wept for the hope of escape that she knew to be false even as she clung to it. The paltry few coins she managed to save would never be enough to convince a merchant to risk the wrath of the king by smuggling her out of this city and across the wasteland surrounding it. The course of her life stretched out before her, as clear and brutal as the sandy, sun-baked road that led west toward the life she would never see again. She would go from the harem to the scullery as her beauty continued to fade, and finally, long after all color had been bleached from her life, to the grave.
She tried to reach for her faith, fumbled for it with groping fingers. She could brush it, could feel the residual warmth of the fire that once burned in her, but she couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t stir it to life again. Jehovah had forsaken her and so she knelt in a pile of rotting garbage against a filthy stone wall and wept.
Her pain seemed inexhaustible but her tears were not and finally her shuddering shoulders slowed and her sobs subsided. She was leaning against the wall now, her cheek against cold stone. In that moment, Suzanna felt a strange sense of clarity. She had two choices. She could lay here and die, or get up and go on. It was the hardest decision she had ever faced.
In the end, a dying man made the decision for her.
Tonight is the night Binyamin will pass from this world and I must be there to ease that passing. I must be there. I must get up. I must make at least this one last effort.
The heat of the day was fully gone now and she was stiff with cold. She struggled to her feet and stared up at the crooked slice of starry sky above. What time was it? Time had had no meaning while she wept. It could have been minutes or hours. But it was still darkest night. She still had time. She brushed at her the skirt of her tunic in a futile effort to wipe away the muck, then swept a sleeve across her eyes and beneath her nose. Stepping free of the alley she looked around, took her bearings, and started off at a pained shuffle.
Movement worked the cold stiffness from her limbs and she began walking faster as if trying to shake off and leave behind the depression and hopelessness that had threatened to crush her. She had a purpose this night, reason enough to live.
For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion. The proverb came, unbidden, to her mind. And along with it came a thought, a feeling, a whisper on the wind. Theudas yet lives. She couldn’t tell where the assurance came from, had no way to prove it as true, and yet she suddenly knew it. Knew it like her own name. She quickened her steps still more.
Where there is life, there is hope.
Purchase Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/War-Within-Nathan-D-Maki-ebook/dp/B013RY410K/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Website: http://nathandmaki.com/shop/

Author Bio:

As a kid, Nathan D. Maki delighted in leaping through the door of historical fiction and into the adventure of the ancient world. In his teens, his love for reading birthed a desire to write and bring history alive for others. Nathan has always been fascinated with the monumental power and enduring achievements of the Roman Empire and its asymmetrical clash with Early Christianity. As a Christian, he is inspired by stories of triumphant faith in the face of persecution, and he hopes these stories will inspire others as well.

Character Interview of Suzanna ben Ya’ir

4. Birthdate and 5. Birthplace

Suzanna was born a slave in Rome in AD 161. She was descended from Jewish slaves captured in the Judeo-Roman war a hundred years before.

3. Level of schooling, or self-taught

As a child, she learned healing from her master, a Greek physician, and after being sold upon his death she further developed her natural talent through hands-on experience, nursing her master’s wife and other slaves in the household.

9. Significant other

She married a fellow Jewish slave, Luke, and they had a son, Theudas. After Theudas fought their master’s son and Luke defended him, both father and son were sold to be gladiators.

6. Currently residing in…

Luke died in the Coliseum, and Suzanna was transported to Parthia and sold into the harem of the king of Hatra, the Parthian desert fortress.

2. Job and 10. Most important goal

There, with the help of a sympathetic guard, she slips away at night to nurse the poor, hording the few coins she receives in payment in hopes of one day buying passage back to Rome with a caravan.

14. Secret desire or fantasy and 11. Worst fear or nightmare

Her secret dream is to be reunited with her son, while her greatest fear is that she will die alone and forgotten.

Today I’m pleased to welcome Janie Franz  and her book Verses to the #Egg-Cerpt Exchange. Welcome, Janie!

Verses (The Lost Song Trilogy book 1 and book 4 of the Bowdancer series)
By
Janie Franz

Blurb
Eleven summers after Jan-nell the bowdancer left her daughter Mira-nell with the sisterhood of hunters on the mountain and came to live with Khrin to raise their son, Bearin, she is called by the sisterhood to find their origins.

The first clue is a bit of song Jan-nell learns at the deathbed of the oldest woman in the sisterhood’s village. Jan-nell and her companions seek the origins of the mysterious women on the mountain through the verses of that song.

Master hunter Bekar and master trackfinder Chandro accompany Jan-nell and Bearin on a quest for the lost song that takes them from their local inn out across the landscape of their world as they meet bee spinners and kings and risk their lives to achieve their goal.

Excerpt

“Is the old woman failing?”

“She is ill, and Leyton worries that she may pass before she can tell Jan-nell the gossip from the first mothers about our coming to the mountain.”

“She wants a story-song then?”

Chandro nodded again. “She has finally agreed.”

Bekar bit into a crisp cucumber, relishing the new taste. “Hmm.” Then she turned to Jan-nell. “I would like to know how we came here and why. I feel there is something we should all know, but it has been kept from us. We did not have feasts and music before you and Mira-nell came, or ways to mark our life passages, except for when we have our first moon and become women or when a few take their places among the hunters.”

“At least Mira-nell has that affirmation. She would not get it here.” Jan-nell cast Khrin a look. “They would be plotting who she should wed by now—if not preparing the ceremony as we speak.”

Khrin held up his hands. “It is not my doing. My mother likes weddings and babes.”

Chandro’s gaze rested on Bearin. “Do they plot who you will wed?” she asked the boy.

“If I would listen,” he said.

“What?” Jan-nell turned to him.

“I do not bother you with their talk. Granddame’s sister has a girl my age that she thinks is fair.”

“But she is kin?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “They do not count kin that far from Granddame. Besides, though she is fair, she cannot think. What would I have to say to such a one?”

“There will be a time where thinking is not what is most in your mind when you look upon a girl,” Chandro counseled.

Frowning at the trackfinder, Jan-nell continued. “You have seen her?”

The boy gave a nod.

“And?”

Bearin looked confused. “What?”

Khrin shook his head, grinning “I do not know if your mother is more shocked that she did not know about this or that she does not know what instructions you have been given about girls.”

“Well, it is obvious somebody has been filling his head with something!” Jan-nell snapped. “I do not wish him to have a houseful of babes before he has explored the world and found what lies in his heart.”

Bekar chuckled, and Jan-nell turned her growing anger on the hunter, glaring fiercely at her.

“Forgive,” Bekar said. “Be at peace.” She turned to the boy. “Tell us what you have learned about girls.”

Jan-nell raised an eyebrow at Bekar’s words.

Bearin looked up at his teacher. “It depends on the girl. Some are silly though they may be beautiful. Some are wise though they may look like a goat. Some are noble and kind, and some are devious and can never be happy no matter how much is given to them. Some have talents, though they may be in the domestic arts, while some are clever and strong and know men’s work. Both kinds can work alongside any man. Girls—women are as diverse as men.”

“And what of pairings—wedded or not?”

He shrugged again. “Just as varied.” He looked at every face. “As are families. Are we not a family around this table?”

“Yes, we are,” Khrin stated and reached for his mug of tea. He held it up as if to give a toast.

Bekar smiled and held up her mug. Bearin hoisted his aloft. Chandro looked at Jan-nell and raised her mug. Moving her eyes from face to face, Jan-nell finally raised her mug. “To our family,” Khrin said in firm tones.

Interview Questions for Bekar
1. Nickname: I’ve always been called Bekar. It is a name different from the other women up on the mountain.
2. Job: Do you mean what work I have been called to do? I am a Master Hunter
3. Birthplace: I was born up on the mountain, far above the little villages below. There are only women here, strong women. We are grateful to have Mira-nell, Jan-nell’s child, teach our young girls the ways of healing and the songs of the One. Those songs and dances stir my heart, unlike many of the other women here. And Mira-nell has her mother’s touch with herbing goat and wild game. We of the sisterhood, as Jan-nell calls us, are very grateful Mira-nell tends our cook fires.
4. Significant other: Do you mean a mate? I have not found one, though I have had many lovers. I think I’m too much of a mountain goal to be tamed by a mate.
5. Most important goal: We must find the answers to where we came from. Surely, we did not spring from the rocks of our mountain home. I am different from the other women here. I brown darker in the summer’s sun. My hair is not fair like theirs.

Buy links:
This book is on sale for 99cents at https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/new-releases/series/verses-the-lost-song-trilogy-detail
and http://www.amazon.com/Verses-Lost-Song-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B0099XMEL2/ref=sr_1_10?ie=UTF8&qid=1456364707&sr=8-10&keywords=Janie+Franz

And can be bought for regular price at:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/verses-janie-franz/1113575391?ean=2940044974036

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/verses-the-lost-song-trilogy

About Janie Franz
Janie Franz comes from a long line of Southern liars and storytellers. She told other people’s stories

as a freelance journalist for many years. With Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox, she co-wrote The Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Book and The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book, and then self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a Business, Stupid! She also published an online music publication, was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor.

Currently, she is writing her tweveth novel and a self-help book, Starting Over: Becoming a Woman of Power.

https://authorjaniefranz.wordpress.com
https://janiefranz.wordpress.com
https://thebowdancersaga.wordpress.com

#Egg-cerpt Exchange #Verses #JanieFranz

Today I’m pleased to welcome Janie Franz  and her book Verses to the #Egg-Cerpt Exchange. Welcome, Janie!

Verses (The Lost Song Trilogy book 1 and book 4 of the Bowdancer series)
By
Janie Franz

Blurb
Eleven summers after Jan-nell the bowdancer left her daughter Mira-nell with the sisterhood of hunters on the mountain and came to live with Khrin to raise their son, Bearin, she is called by the sisterhood to find their origins.

The first clue is a bit of song Jan-nell learns at the deathbed of the oldest woman in the sisterhood’s village. Jan-nell and her companions seek the origins of the mysterious women on the mountain through the verses of that song.

Master hunter Bekar and master trackfinder Chandro accompany Jan-nell and Bearin on a quest for the lost song that takes them from their local inn out across the landscape of their world as they meet bee spinners and kings and risk their lives to achieve their goal.

Excerpt

“Is the old woman failing?”

“She is ill, and Leyton worries that she may pass before she can tell Jan-nell the gossip from the first mothers about our coming to the mountain.”

“She wants a story-song then?”

Chandro nodded again. “She has finally agreed.”

Bekar bit into a crisp cucumber, relishing the new taste. “Hmm.” Then she turned to Jan-nell. “I would like to know how we came here and why. I feel there is something we should all know, but it has been kept from us. We did not have feasts and music before you and Mira-nell came, or ways to mark our life passages, except for when we have our first moon and become women or when a few take their places among the hunters.”

“At least Mira-nell has that affirmation. She would not get it here.” Jan-nell cast Khrin a look. “They would be plotting who she should wed by now—if not preparing the ceremony as we speak.”

Khrin held up his hands. “It is not my doing. My mother likes weddings and babes.”

Chandro’s gaze rested on Bearin. “Do they plot who you will wed?” she asked the boy.

“If I would listen,” he said.

“What?” Jan-nell turned to him.

“I do not bother you with their talk. Granddame’s sister has a girl my age that she thinks is fair.”

“But she is kin?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “They do not count kin that far from Granddame. Besides, though she is fair, she cannot think. What would I have to say to such a one?”

“There will be a time where thinking is not what is most in your mind when you look upon a girl,” Chandro counseled.

Frowning at the trackfinder, Jan-nell continued. “You have seen her?”

The boy gave a nod.

“And?”

Bearin looked confused. “What?”

Khrin shook his head, grinning “I do not know if your mother is more shocked that she did not know about this or that she does not know what instructions you have been given about girls.”

“Well, it is obvious somebody has been filling his head with something!” Jan-nell snapped. “I do not wish him to have a houseful of babes before he has explored the world and found what lies in his heart.”

Bekar chuckled, and Jan-nell turned her growing anger on the hunter, glaring fiercely at her.

“Forgive,” Bekar said. “Be at peace.” She turned to the boy. “Tell us what you have learned about girls.”

Jan-nell raised an eyebrow at Bekar’s words.

Bearin looked up at his teacher. “It depends on the girl. Some are silly though they may be beautiful. Some are wise though they may look like a goat. Some are noble and kind, and some are devious and can never be happy no matter how much is given to them. Some have talents, though they may be in the domestic arts, while some are clever and strong and know men’s work. Both kinds can work alongside any man. Girls—women are as diverse as men.”

“And what of pairings—wedded or not?”

He shrugged again. “Just as varied.” He looked at every face. “As are families. Are we not a family around this table?”

“Yes, we are,” Khrin stated and reached for his mug of tea. He held it up as if to give a toast.

Bekar smiled and held up her mug. Bearin hoisted his aloft. Chandro looked at Jan-nell and raised her mug. Moving her eyes from face to face, Jan-nell finally raised her mug. “To our family,” Khrin said in firm tones.

Interview Questions for Bekar
1. Nickname: I’ve always been called Bekar. It is a name different from the other women up on the mountain.
2. Job: Do you mean what work I have been called to do? I am a Master Hunter
3. Birthplace: I was born up on the mountain, far above the little villages below. There are only women here, strong women. We are grateful to have Mira-nell, Jan-nell’s child, teach our young girls the ways of healing and the songs of the One. Those songs and dances stir my heart, unlike many of the other women here. And Mira-nell has her mother’s touch with herbing goat and wild game. We of the sisterhood, as Jan-nell calls us, are very grateful Mira-nell tends our cook fires.
4. Significant other: Do you mean a mate? I have not found one, though I have had many lovers. I think I’m too much of a mountain goal to be tamed by a mate.
5. Most important goal: We must find the answers to where we came from. Surely, we did not spring from the rocks of our mountain home. I am different from the other women here. I brown darker in the summer’s sun. My hair is not fair like theirs.

Buy links:
This book is on sale for 99cents at https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/new-releases/series/verses-the-lost-song-trilogy-detail
and http://www.amazon.com/Verses-Lost-Song-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B0099XMEL2/ref=sr_1_10?ie=UTF8&qid=1456364707&sr=8-10&keywords=Janie+Franz

And can be bought for regular price at:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/verses-janie-franz/1113575391?ean=2940044974036

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/verses-the-lost-song-trilogy

About Janie Franz
Janie Franz comes from a long line of Southern liars and storytellers. She told other people’s stories

as a freelance journalist for many years. With Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox, she co-wrote The Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Book and The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book, and then self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a Business, Stupid! She also published an online music publication, was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor.

Currently, she is writing her tweveth novel and a self-help book, Starting Over: Becoming a Woman of Power.

https://authorjaniefranz.wordpress.com
https://janiefranz.wordpress.com
https://thebowdancersaga.wordpress.com

#Egg-cerpt Exchange #Verses #JanieFranz

     This week we’re talking about a personal experience. A pretty broad category trying to narrow it down is tough. I’m old, and I admit it. I’ve done a lot in my life. I’ve stood on the top of a mountain, I’ve played on beaches on both the East and West coasts, I’ve hunkered down and survived several hurricanes. I’ve travelled all over the United States for work and have been in all but about four states.
     I met my husband while I was in college and we got engaged six weeks after we met. We got married three months after we met. And we’re still married, for more years than many of you have been alive.
     We’ve had two children, one girl and one boy. The perfect American family. Except that I’ve held my dying little girl in my arms, due to the sudden onset of a previously undiagnosed and unsuspected medical condition. She survived, thank heavens. And I watched my son’s dreams disappear due to an entirely different medical condition.
     I’ve worked for thirteen different companies in four different states. I’ve had my poetry published internationally and I’ve self-published four books—so far. So how do I narrow all of that down and talk about only one thing?

    When I was in college (at one of the three colleges I’ve attended) I took a P.E. course in Basic Rock Climbing techniques. In other words, mountain climbing. We’d load up a bus Saturday mornings and head out to some cliffs about 45 minutes away from the school. We started off with basic things like learning how to tie knots and use carabiners (see below) as well as how to bundle our ropes so they wouldn’t get tangled during use.

    As we got more confident in out skills, we started to actually climb the bigger rocks, then moved on to the smaller cliffs. We also learned safety techniques, how to rescue other climbers if they got in trouble while climbing. That was the day I spent way too much time dangling from the edge because my partner couldn’t figure out how to save me.
     It’s a good thing the college was far away from home so my poor mother didn’t hear about it until I was halfway through the course.
Because, you see, this was about three months after I’d had a major accident on my bicycle. The front wheel fell off going down a hill and I ended up in the hospital for five days with a concussion and a broken collarbone.

    But back to the rock climbing. The last day of the course we finally got to rappel down the longest cliff in the area. It wasn’t that big compared some I’ve seen since then, but it was a good starting point. For those of you whom have never done it, rappelling is basically walking off a cliff backwards, with only a rope and your own skill to keep you from dropping all the way down at once.
    The first few steps down were freaky. I stayed way too close to the cliff, trying to find places for my feet to land and get a grip. But then I got the idea of it. Push out, let the rope slide through your hand just a bit and eventually touch the face of the rock again with your feet. When I finally reached the bottom, I wanted to do try again.
     So that’s my story. I can’t wait to hear what everyone else has chosen as their experience. You can find out by following the links at the bottom of the post. And if you have any questions for me, please leave them in the comments.

#Mountain Climbing #Rappel

Rules:
1. Link your blog to this hop.
2. Notify your following that you are participating in this blog hop.
3. Promise to visit/leave a comment on all participants’ blogs.
4. Tweet/or share each person’s blog post. Use ?#?OpenBook? when tweeting.
5. Put a banner on your blog that you are participating.
WordPress:



Custom Blog:

Code for Link:

get the InLinkz code

     This week we’re talking about a personal experience. A pretty broad category trying to narrow it down is tough. I’m old, and I admit it. I’ve done a lot in my life. I’ve stood on the top of a mountain, I’ve played on beaches on both the East and West coasts, I’ve hunkered down and survived several hurricanes. I’ve travelled all over the United States for work and have been in all but about four states.
     I met my husband while I was in college and we got engaged six weeks after we met. We got married three months after we met. And we’re still married, for more years than many of you have been alive.
     We’ve had two children, one girl and one boy. The perfect American family. Except that I’ve held my dying little girl in my arms, due to the sudden onset of a previously undiagnosed and unsuspected medical condition. She survived, thank heavens. And I watched my son’s dreams disappear due to an entirely different medical condition.
     I’ve worked for thirteen different companies in four different states. I’ve had my poetry published internationally and I’ve self-published four books—so far. So how do I narrow all of that down and talk about only one thing?

    When I was in college (at one of the three colleges I’ve attended) I took a P.E. course in Basic Rock Climbing techniques. In other words, mountain climbing. We’d load up a bus Saturday mornings and head out to some cliffs about 45 minutes away from the school. We started off with basic things like learning how to tie knots and use carabiners (see below) as well as how to bundle our ropes so they wouldn’t get tangled during use.

    As we got more confident in out skills, we started to actually climb the bigger rocks, then moved on to the smaller cliffs. We also learned safety techniques, how to rescue other climbers if they got in trouble while climbing. That was the day I spent way too much time dangling from the edge because my partner couldn’t figure out how to save me.
     It’s a good thing the college was far away from home so my poor mother didn’t hear about it until I was halfway through the course.
Because, you see, this was about three months after I’d had a major accident on my bicycle. The front wheel fell off going down a hill and I ended up in the hospital for five days with a concussion and a broken collarbone.

    But back to the rock climbing. The last day of the course we finally got to rappel down the longest cliff in the area. It wasn’t that big compared some I’ve seen since then, but it was a good starting point. For those of you whom have never done it, rappelling is basically walking off a cliff backwards, with only a rope and your own skill to keep you from dropping all the way down at once.
    The first few steps down were freaky. I stayed way too close to the cliff, trying to find places for my feet to land and get a grip. But then I got the idea of it. Push out, let the rope slide through your hand just a bit and eventually touch the face of the rock again with your feet. When I finally reached the bottom, I wanted to do try again.
     So that’s my story. I can’t wait to hear what everyone else has chosen as their experience. You can find out by following the links at the bottom of the post. And if you have any questions for me, please leave them in the comments.

#Mountain Climbing #Rappel

Rules:
1. Link your blog to this hop.
2. Notify your following that you are participating in this blog hop.
3. Promise to visit/leave a comment on all participants’ blogs.
4. Tweet/or share each person’s blog post. Use ?#?OpenBook? when tweeting.
5. Put a banner on your blog that you are participating.
Wordpress:

Custom Blog:

Code for Link:

get the InLinkz code

It’s Mari Manning’s turn today for the Egg-Cerpt Exchange. She’s brought along her book, Stranger at My Door. Welcome, Mari!

First, the interview.

Dinah Pittman, heroine of Stranger at My Door
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in a small town in Texas. I’ll tell you the name, but it doesn’t matter since no one’s ever heard of it. It’s El Royo. For the first 17 years of my life, I loved it, then a crime destroyed my family, and I couldn’t get away fast enough.
When is your birthday?
I’m 25, so you do the math. I was born on November 1, and my mother, who believed in the stars, painted the night sky at it appeared the day I was born on the ceiling of my bedroom.
What would you do if you won the lottery?
Pay back the money my father stole.

Rafe Morales, hero of Stranger at My Door
Where did you grow up?
I grew up on Hacienda Osito, which means Little Bear Ranch in Spanish.
Worst fear or nightmare?
I’ve lived through my worst fear – I watched someone I love die before my eyes. Something broke in me that night. Most people call it my nerve. My mother swears it’s my alma, which means soul. Whatever it is, I hope it mends, but I don’t believe I will ever be whole again.

About “Stranger at My Door” by Mari Manning
The only thing standing between Dinah Pittman and a murderer is a man she’s afraid to trust …
As far as Dinah Pittman is concerned, men can’t be trusted. Especially cops. Her own father was a cop and a convicted felon who stole a small fortune before dying in prison. The best part? No one knows where the money is…and someone is willing to kill off everyone who knows anything about it.
And Dinah is next.
Rafe Morales left the Dallas police force to settle down to a simpler life in the small Texas town of El Royo. Instead, he finds himself protecting an infuriating, tough-as-nails, oh-so-sexy victim—and driving himself crazy with a thoroughly unprofessional desire.
But as the body count rises, Rafe and Dinah must find a way to trust each other…before they both end up dead.

From the book:
The front door rebounded and clipped Rafe’s shoulder. He kicked it closed with his boot before raking his flashlight beam across the unlit entryway. The hall was clear. His heart thumping against ribs, he burst into the living room. His light hit the figure of a woman, and his feet froze. He tilted the beam up and framed Dinah Pittman’s expressionless face.
Most girls would have screamed or hid when he kicked in the door. Not this one. She had balls, he’d give her that.
Her forearm lifted to shield her eyes from the light. “Who are you? What do you want?” She sounded tired. “I already told Teke, I don’t know where the money is.”
Rafe lowered the flashlight and rolled his shoulder to loosen a tight muscle. There were about two dozen abandoned bungalows in this part of town. When he saw a candle flickering in the window, he’d expected a confrontation with teenagers or maybe a squatter.
He stepped into the candlelight. “Officer Morales, ma’am. Got something against electricity?” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. The pink flyers. She’d needed money to turn on the lights.
Her mouth tightened. “Get out.” Turning to a small table by the window, she gathered up scattered cards, probably her tarot cards. Had she found customers already?
He studied her as he summoned up an appropriate apology. She wore cut-offs and a white T-shirt. His eyes swept down her slim legs to her bare feet and red toenails before he could stop himself. Why were pain-in-the-ass women always hot?
“I didn’t mean to upset you—”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“That’s tough to do with you around.”
Her hand stilled for a moment, then returned to its task. “You could have knocked.”
“Sometimes we get squatters in these abandoned houses. They’re more likely to be discouraged by a show of force.”
“I could have been a mass murderer. Aren’t you supposed to call for backup?” She glanced down at his flashlight. “If I was a bad guy with a gun, you’d be dead, Officer Morales.”
“Rafe.”
She’d read him right. He’d tried to pull out his service revolver when he broke down the door, but—predictably—his hand had turned to Jell-O. After two years, he still couldn’t get past the night in Dallas when his beautiful, daring Sam’s luck ran out, and he’d avenged her but failed to live up to his own lofty ideals. So he relied on the element of surprise and big fists.
Gathering up the cards, she set them in a neat stack. “As you can see, I am not a squatter.” Her gaze flickered to his flashlight, then back up to his face. “There’s an empty house about two blocks down if you’re determined to rescue one.”
The corner of his mouth inched up. She’d be a handful…for the right man, which sure as hell wasn’t him. Not anymore. “Thanks for the tip.”

About Mari Manning
Let’s start with the fun stuff. I love small towns, mysteries, quiet men, laughter, old-fashioned spaghetti dinners. I love boots and shopping and jokes and Hershey’s dark chocolate and white wine. I love lots of things. But my first love is reading.
I love to read. Just about anything, but it has to be well-written. I go through periods where I am into historical novels or romance or mystery or history or biography. I never know when my desires will suddenly change.
Now for the writer-ish, official stuff: Mari Manning is the author of several contemporary romances and three romantic suspense novels set in the Texas Hill Country. Stranger at My Door is the first in her A Murder in Teas series. The second, Stranger in My House will be published by Entangled later this year. The third book in the series is Stranger in My Bed. Currently Mari is working on a series of cozy mysteries.
She and her husband live in Chicago.
Buy links to all the major electronic sites are here: http://www.entangledpublishing.com/stranger-at-my-door/
Contact Mari at manningillinois@gmail.com

Visit my website at www.marimanning.com

Follow me @mari_manning on Twitter

It’s Mari Manning’s turn today for the Egg-Cerpt Exchange. She’s brought along her book, Stranger at My Door. Welcome, Mari!

First, the interview.

Dinah Pittman, heroine of Stranger at My Door
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in a small town in Texas. I’ll tell you the name, but it doesn’t matter since no one’s ever heard of it. It’s El Royo. For the first 17 years of my life, I loved it, then a crime destroyed my family, and I couldn’t get away fast enough.
When is your birthday?
I’m 25, so you do the math. I was born on November 1, and my mother, who believed in the stars, painted the night sky at it appeared the day I was born on the ceiling of my bedroom.
What would you do if you won the lottery?
Pay back the money my father stole.

Rafe Morales, hero of Stranger at My Door
Where did you grow up?
I grew up on Hacienda Osito, which means Little Bear Ranch in Spanish.
Worst fear or nightmare?
I’ve lived through my worst fear – I watched someone I love die before my eyes. Something broke in me that night. Most people call it my nerve. My mother swears it’s my alma, which means soul. Whatever it is, I hope it mends, but I don’t believe I will ever be whole again.

About “Stranger at My Door” by Mari Manning
The only thing standing between Dinah Pittman and a murderer is a man she’s afraid to trust …
As far as Dinah Pittman is concerned, men can’t be trusted. Especially cops. Her own father was a cop and a convicted felon who stole a small fortune before dying in prison. The best part? No one knows where the money is…and someone is willing to kill off everyone who knows anything about it.
And Dinah is next.
Rafe Morales left the Dallas police force to settle down to a simpler life in the small Texas town of El Royo. Instead, he finds himself protecting an infuriating, tough-as-nails, oh-so-sexy victim—and driving himself crazy with a thoroughly unprofessional desire.
But as the body count rises, Rafe and Dinah must find a way to trust each other…before they both end up dead.

From the book:
The front door rebounded and clipped Rafe’s shoulder. He kicked it closed with his boot before raking his flashlight beam across the unlit entryway. The hall was clear. His heart thumping against ribs, he burst into the living room. His light hit the figure of a woman, and his feet froze. He tilted the beam up and framed Dinah Pittman’s expressionless face.
Most girls would have screamed or hid when he kicked in the door. Not this one. She had balls, he’d give her that.
Her forearm lifted to shield her eyes from the light. “Who are you? What do you want?” She sounded tired. “I already told Teke, I don’t know where the money is.”
Rafe lowered the flashlight and rolled his shoulder to loosen a tight muscle. There were about two dozen abandoned bungalows in this part of town. When he saw a candle flickering in the window, he’d expected a confrontation with teenagers or maybe a squatter.
He stepped into the candlelight. “Officer Morales, ma’am. Got something against electricity?” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. The pink flyers. She’d needed money to turn on the lights.
Her mouth tightened. “Get out.” Turning to a small table by the window, she gathered up scattered cards, probably her tarot cards. Had she found customers already?
He studied her as he summoned up an appropriate apology. She wore cut-offs and a white T-shirt. His eyes swept down her slim legs to her bare feet and red toenails before he could stop himself. Why were pain-in-the-ass women always hot?
“I didn’t mean to upset you—”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“That’s tough to do with you around.”
Her hand stilled for a moment, then returned to its task. “You could have knocked.”
“Sometimes we get squatters in these abandoned houses. They’re more likely to be discouraged by a show of force.”
“I could have been a mass murderer. Aren’t you supposed to call for backup?” She glanced down at his flashlight. “If I was a bad guy with a gun, you’d be dead, Officer Morales.”
“Rafe.”
She’d read him right. He’d tried to pull out his service revolver when he broke down the door, but—predictably—his hand had turned to Jell-O. After two years, he still couldn’t get past the night in Dallas when his beautiful, daring Sam’s luck ran out, and he’d avenged her but failed to live up to his own lofty ideals. So he relied on the element of surprise and big fists.
Gathering up the cards, she set them in a neat stack. “As you can see, I am not a squatter.” Her gaze flickered to his flashlight, then back up to his face. “There’s an empty house about two blocks down if you’re determined to rescue one.”
The corner of his mouth inched up. She’d be a handful…for the right man, which sure as hell wasn’t him. Not anymore. “Thanks for the tip.”

About Mari Manning
Let’s start with the fun stuff. I love small towns, mysteries, quiet men, laughter, old-fashioned spaghetti dinners. I love boots and shopping and jokes and Hershey’s dark chocolate and white wine. I love lots of things. But my first love is reading.
I love to read. Just about anything, but it has to be well-written. I go through periods where I am into historical novels or romance or mystery or history or biography. I never know when my desires will suddenly change.
Now for the writer-ish, official stuff: Mari Manning is the author of several contemporary romances and three romantic suspense novels set in the Texas Hill Country. Stranger at My Door is the first in her A Murder in Teas series. The second, Stranger in My House will be published by Entangled later this year. The third book in the series is Stranger in My Bed. Currently Mari is working on a series of cozy mysteries.
She and her husband live in Chicago.
Buy links to all the major electronic sites are here: http://www.entangledpublishing.com/stranger-at-my-door/
Contact Mari at manningillinois@gmail.com

Visit my website at www.marimanning.com

Follow me @mari_manning on Twitter