Hello Readers – Welcome Back to Writerly Wednesday and I hope you enjoy the new format and new Interview Questions. The Bio, Blurb and Excerpt appear after the interview. So keep reading..
This Week’s Guest is Linda Hays-Gibbs who has been here before.
1. What is your favorite marketing task that has resulted in a sale? I went out in town and visited some stores with my one book and talked to some of my associates. It was fun and enlightening to know that they wanted to buy my books. I just need to get them out to them. I sold all that I had on me that day and some ebooks as well. I try to talk to people and find what they enjoy reading too. I enjoyed that more than anything.
2. What do you like about your publisher or why did you decide to Self Publish?I love my Publisher. Eternal Press is the best thing that has happened to me. First, you feel like you are in a great big family. Others help you and answer your questions and you feel like they really care. I love this place. Eternal Press has made me grow as an author and a person. I think that they try to put forth the effort and time to sell books and that is what it is about after all. We all want to make money and be successful. They are a great bunch of authors here.
3. What do you have under your bed? Monsters and crawly things… No, Lol Just Christmas presents from last year that I hid and forgot about, dust balls, and my little old pekingnese. She is alive but that is her favorite place to nap. I used to have a file that I kept reciepts in but it got flattened so it is out of reach now.
4. Are you a plotter or a pantser when you are writing? I just write. I think about what a situation should be like and how the characters would act and I write it. I also read history and love to think about what was happening to people in that period of time. It is interesting to know how people reacted back then and how they would now. It is essentially the same only with different tools but that is what makes it interesting to me. Different tools and circumstances and how to survive life and love. It is what we are all trying to do after all, is it not?
5. Do you write in a bubble or do you prefer critique groups, writing buddies or other companionship during the process? Most of the time I am alone in my little bubble but I have my family and I kind of bounce it off them and they tell me new ideas too. I think the children come up with a fresh perspective and start the creative juices whirling again.
6. When do ideas come to you and how do you capture them? I wonder about a situation and how I would react then I try to see if I think that would be interesting to read and go from there. I think there are a lot of stories to tell and an infinite number of ways to tell them but the secret is how to make it exciting to others. You can write a million stories but it is important to a writer that others want to read them and find them interesting. A great review is like a wonderful Christmas present to me. I love to hear someone has enjoyed my work.
7. What is your favorite word processing program and what other tools do you use, pen, notebooks, white board, index cards, finger on fogged bathroom mirrors? I use microsoft word and acrobat reader. I do have a notepad and I try to keep up with where I am with my notes. Most of the time I use the note section on my iphone or I dictate something. It is so hard to keep these things straight on notepads. I have a great many notepads all over the house and there are notes scattered throughout them. Index cards would be impossible, so I don’t do index cards but I have fogged bathroom mirrors. Lol
She was born in Mississippi and lived in Tennessee and Alabama. She went back to school late in life, graduated with a BA in Anthropology from University of Alabama. Raised three children by herself after an extremely horrific divorce and combating the debilitating effects off Lupus. Reading is nectar from the Gods to Linda and writing is just plain fun. Her great, great grandfather is Daniel Boone and she found that out by researching her family herself. She has a dry sense of humor integrated in her books.
Linda wrote a book of poetry about her grand children called “Sailing in My Sunshine.” Her granddaughter Sailey and daughter Bea inspired her to send it off for publication. Sailey drew the cover on this book.
Linda’s second book about the sixties was “He Would Make Her Pay.” Wanting to escape and Druids inspired her third book, “Escape into Magic.” Her fourth book, “My Angel, My Light As Darkness Falls” really was exciting because of her new and exciting publisher, Eternal Press. Kim Richards, Sally Christie and Sally Odgers from Eternal Press are inspirations. Barbara Metzger, one of her favorite authors gave Linda advice.
. Linda’s fifth book launches November the 1st, 2012 with Eternal Press. It is a Paranormal Regency Romance too called, “Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul. It is the second in her angel series. The next will be called, “Morovani, the Guardian Angel.” Linda loves writing and hopes to continue to do it for the rest of her life along with anything she can do for her God and children.
Excerpt from Angel in My Heart Devil in my Soul
He was extremely handsome, but evil blistered from his black eyes. His tongue slithered from his lips as he stared at Neville. A fog seeped in his wake bringing smells of sulfur and rotting flesh with it.
A hissing breathy voice came as the room filled with sulfur fumes. “I made my agreement with your family. I sssssssettled the gambling debts and sssssset up your household. You owe me.” He towered over Neville.
“I have the document in my hands. It states that you had my father and me bound by it but not my son. You cannot corrupt an innocent baby. He is God’s own. Surely you see that he had nothing to do with this agreement?” Neville’s voice shook and he perspired profusely. He turned away to catch his breath and calm his heart as he choked on the sulfur.
“I will have what I will. You cannot keep me from him. I will have him.”
“No, I will take him to church and have him baptized. He will be free of you.”
The windows flew open and the doors banged back. Smoke surrounded them and the Devil was gone. Neville fell on his knees and cried as he prayed.
‘Oh God, please let this end. My father chained me to this but surely you will have mercy on my son. I am so very sorry for my part. Please God help me.”
“Please God, give me a child. I have a perfect life except for a babe. I will raise the baby in the church and make sure that he or she is well taken care of. I will never desert the babe. Please God?” It was a woman that prayed for a baby nightly.
God gifted them with an enchanted child. He sent an angel named Morovani and he overshadowed the woman and she conceived. In 1798 on April 2, Rachael Asbury Merriwalters was born 10 years after John Monroe Fitzpatrick. Her job was preordained.
“Oh Cecil, is she not the most beautiful baby in the world? I have never seen one so beautiful. She looks like an angel.”
His heart racing, he tried to focus his eyes to the dark. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in alarm. He forced in a breath and shook his head. Certain people wanted his life. He straightened and continued on his path, resigned in his plight. His eyes dart from left to right still searching still afraid. He walked faster to keep the dangers away. John slithered in behind the man.
Peering into the dark, the man called to the shadows,
“Hello? Who is there? I warn you, I have a gun. I am armed. I will not be taken easily. You’d best move along.” The man narrowed his eyes.
This man was neither good nor bad. He was just a man who was in the way of another man, and had to be removed. John stalked the night on many occasions just like this. It was second nature to him. The inky black void was as comforting to him as a mother’s caress.
A swift stiletto into the ribs, and ultimately the victim’s heart, would end this quickly. However, John wanted a little fun in his game. The man gurgled a half scream as his eyes widen in horror. The knife sliced the back of his leg. The left wrist came next. As blood spurted, the man screamed until John jabbed smoothly into his neck. The man stumbled away, limping. Now nothing came from his mouth. His eyes searched John’s face but he found no pity, no help for his life. Silently the man fell into the gutter like a rag doll. The street claimed another life in the rat holes of London.
In her dreams his face was above her own, his eyes soft and yearning as her heart. His gaze a deep blue penetrated into her heart. His hands were soft and tender touching her in a sensual way that caught her breath. Why would her dreams let her see his hands and his eyes but never all of him? Rachael knew in her heart that he was real. He was supposed to be for her. Why had she not met him yet? Her dreams seemed so vivid that she could smell him, feel his breath on her neck, hands on her body, his lips on her lips. His eyes pierced into hers. When his lips touched hers, she was irrevocable lost in sensations. There was sweet wholesome innocence and beauty, the enticing smells of soap and cleanliness, and man. He would kiss her for a few minutes before drawing back his head and gazing down into her eyes. His eyes were such a dark blue. His eyes were large and beautiful but so hopeless, so dull. What was his pain? His fingertips lightly caressed against her cheeks sending shivers of raw desire coursing downward through her body to her center. The hunger she felt was not merely carnal but a connection, a knowing. He was her hope. Still he had not found her. Rachael made up her mind. “I shall find him!” Her statement to the room at large made it official in her mind.
He stood there at the foot of her bed staring at her. Why was she here? He had so many questions. “Who are you? Wake up! Bloody Hell, wake up.” He pulled at her foot, the contact of her flesh tantalizing. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up into his face. She lifted her head and kept her golden eyes on his. She sucked in a breath to scream but then stopped. “Who are you? Do I know you? I am sorry, I…”
He sat down on the bed and raised one hand. He trailed the backs of his fingers up the exposed line of her throat, then turned his hand, cupped her jaw and bent his head to hers. He was only inches away, so close his breath was a warm caress across her face. Oh Lord, his mouth rested against the side of her face, the scruff of his cheeks erotically rubbing her sensitive skin. Then he pressed his lips to her neck and shivers raced over her skin, her reluctance forgotten. Her eyes closed of their own accord and she sank into him.
The lick of heat from her enthralled him. He lightly touched his lips to hers but the shock went to his toes in a sizzle. He drew her deep into the kiss, captured her senses with a sudden flare of sensual heat. This sudden unmasking of desire was wild temptation of an unfamiliar need. He was shocked again at his dynamic reaction to this woman. Something so deep, so primal, it made him all the hungrier for her. Like a man starved, he wanted to devour her. He had never been so rash, so reckless and he was utterly lost in her kiss. He deepened the kiss even more.
Rachael jerked away. “What are you doing?” She opened her eyes and stared at his lips and could not seem to think. He leaned closer, resting his weight on his arms. Rachael could feel every muscle, every hard bulge. John moved closer and pulled her to him. His lips hovered over hers, his breath still fanning across her mouth. His chest crushed her breasts and his thick thighs pressed against her leg.
“Stop. Please. Please,” she gasped and turned away, shaking like a leaf. “I am not dressed and I know this is not proper unless you are my husband.”
John turned her face toward his. “You do not remember me? How can that be?” She shook her head. “I am sorry, but I am afraid. I do not seem to remember anything. However, you do seem very familiar. Please stop and tell me who you are.”
John stood and paced apart. Rachael covered herself even more with the threadbare blanket.
What was he thinking? Kissing her when he had not even spoken to her? He had lost his mind. Entranced by the softness of her lips, he was caught in a sumptuous offering into which he willingly fell. There was no longer she and he, separate entities, but one all consuming need, to be one with her, utterly, completely, forever. Her sweetness devoured him body and soul. He had to reason this out. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. Please accept my apologies. You just looked like you needed a kiss.”
I am going to put in just about every link there is connected to Lindy Hays-Gibbs and you can go through them!
If Everything Works Out You should see a Trailer for Angel in My Heart, Devil in My Soul..