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Guest post: KD Bloodworth talks about thrillers and chilling suspense

Happy Tuesday, everyone! I hope the week is treating you well so far, and I’d like to introduce a very special guest for today’s post. Or better yet, I will let this great suspense author introduce herself…KD

Who is K.D. Bloodworth?

First of all, thank you for having me here today. Who is K. D.? That could be a very long and complicated answer. I’m a retired Baby Boomer, child of the Sixties, mother, wife, dog mom, birdwatcher, and storyteller. I have lived in ten or eleven different States in my lifetime. Hopefully, in my retirement the Great Smokey Mountains of North Georgia, USA is my final home.

What is your favorite genre to read and write, and why?

My favorite genre is suspense/thrillers. Stories that make me want to check and see if all my doors and windows are locked. I have no earthly idea why I enjoy them so much because in my real life I hate those feelings. I’m not sure what my favorite genre to write is, as I feel I have just begun writing. I did want my readers to feel the fear my character was going through in MrPerfect.com and the soon-to-be-released sequel Deadly Friend.

KD books

Have you always wanted to write?

I think the answer would be no. I did enjoy a journalism class many years ago but never gave thought to writing. My mother always said I should write a book about all my worldly adventures. In fact, I never cared for reading until I was in my late twenties. I read a few bestsellers from time to time, but I was having too much fun in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s to take time out for reading.

 How did you come up with the idea for your first thriller, MrPerfect.com? Is there a back story behind it?

All my books so far have come from actual events that happened in my life, in which I thought, what if this had happened instead? My imagination took over, and MrPerfect came to life. I cannot reveal what in MrPerfect was actually something that happened to me. I will say Sun Canyon is a real place where I have spent many happy afternoons.  It seemed as if in all the books I was reading all the characters were young, in their twenties and thirties. Once in a while, ya get an old forty-year-old in a book. I wanted to write about an older woman. Things to happen to people after forty or fifty that it seems the world forgets about. OMG, fifty-year-olds even have sex! (insert laughing)

Was MrPerfect.com always meant to be a series?

No. It was my readers that asked for more. One day the idea of Deadly Friend came to me. As with most of my concepts, they come to me in the early mornings, that time just before daylight, when I’m half asleep, or maybe half dreaming. I’m not sure. I also do my best writing in the early mornings.

Should we expect more from the MrPerfect.com series?

At this point, I think not. I think Dawn needs some rest and to have some good down time with her husband and dog. But you never know what the future may bring.

What kind of research did you do for this book?

Not much actually. I lived in that area, I was once a very active outdoors person, hunting, camping, fishing, shooting, and such. I did require some information on firearms about sniping. It helps to have a sharp-shooter husband.

The sequel to MrPerfect.com, Deadly Friend, is being released on 09/10/2018. Can you tell us a little bit about this friend?

I’ll just say Dawn and John believe they have put the past behind them, and their decision to start over in a new place with new jobs and new friends were the best things for them, now and for their future. Should I say, ‘best plans laid?’

What are you working on now?

My WIP (work in progress) is a book loosely based on stories my mother told me over the years about her family, growing up during the depression in coal mining towns in Oklahoma and Arkansas. My older cousins are also sharing stories that their mother—my aunt—told them about the same times. Again, I’m taking real-life experiences and allowing my imagination to run with them.  I thought I was going to write another thriller but this idea came to me, again one early morning, and I ran with it.

Can you give us a little morsel of your work-in-progress?

Fourth of July, 1926 arrived hotter than a firecracker. May and I would slip away every chance we got to go cool off in the swimming hole. A carnival came to town, but we hadn’t a dime between us to go. The big Flying Carousel sat at the edge of the grounds. May and I watched from a distance as people flew through the air, laughing and letting go with screams of delight. I wanted to feel that same joy. Knowing we would not experience their happiness of flying through the air, May and I retreated back to our porch.

Returning home, we found Blanch reading on the front porch, fanning herself in an attempt to cool off a bit. Mother had taken John down to the neighbors for some reason.

 “Blanch, everyone is at the carnival. We could go down to the swimming hole and take a dip. No one would know!” May seemed to be daring Blanch.

Blanch pursed her lips in thought, closed her book, and raised her eyebrows, “A cool dip would be delightful.” A flush crept across her cheeks at just the thought of such a brazen act. “I just couldn’t.”

May and I jumped to our feet, “Yes you can, Sister! We would never tell anyone! Especially Mother!”

Blanch’s eyes widened, a small smile appeared, as she rubbed the back of her sweaty neck. “I supposed you wouldn’t tell anyone, in fear you would get whipped too.”

To our surprise, Blanch closed her book, laid it on the table and stood. At first, we thought she was just playing with us, but she then began her descent on the steps. I think all three of us were in shock, but before she could change her mind, May and I, one on each side of our big sister, started leading the way.

Even Blanch was giggling like a young school girl by the time we reached the swimming hole. Luck be with us, there was no one around allowing Blanch to chicken out. Shucking our shoes and socks, then our dresses, the three of us were in the sweat, cool water in no time. May and I swam around while Blanch sat on a rock, up to her neck in the water. I wasn’t sure if our big sister even knew how to swim. All of a sudden she stood, and jumped into the middle, in the deepest part. May and I couldn’t believe our eyes. Blanch didn’t bob up right away which concerned us. Just about the time, we thought we should dive in to look for her, she sprung out of the water as if she had been shot out of a cannon.  She was laughing through pure pleasure.

What is your ideal type of reader, and what is your message for all the people who read your books?

I’m not sure if I have an ideal type of reader. I would like to think my stories strike a note of reality with readers. Like me, thinking this could really happen. Isn’t that where great fiction is supposed to take the reader? To possible reality?

I’d like to tell my readers that, although my books are fiction, they are all based on facts. Based on events that happened to my friends, my family, or myself. I’ll leave it for you to decide.

Thank you again for having me. There are several places people can find me, follow me, or get to know me better. I always say, viewer discretion advised, as I’m not PC, I say please and thank you like a well-mannered child but curses like a drunken sailor (at times). I have a weird, some say sick, sense of humor, too. But I’m honest, kind, and loving. It’s complicated!

Where to find K.D. Bloodworth and her books:

www.kdbloodworth.com

https://www.facebook.com/K.D.Bloodworth/

K D Bloodworth (@kdbloodworth) | Twitter

https://junction-publishing.com/authors/k-d-bloodworth/

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Monday Teaser: THE DIARY

lips

Hello, friends and fellow book lovers! I hope your week started as well as mine, because today I finally began writing again, after a pause of several months. The novel I’m working on is a complex thriller, probably the first in a series. And speaking of series, I have taken another important decision, based on the wonderful reviews and emails I have received from readers regarding my novel, THE DIARY: I have decided to continue Hunter and Serena’s adventures, and write an entire series featuring these amazing characters! I’m not revealing more at the moment, but I promise 2018 will be a year full of surprises. 😉

For those of you who haven’t already read THE DIARY, this is the blurb:

In the legendary Transylvania, a castle belonging to Countess Erzsébet Báthory is discovered. Cameraman Hunter Cole and broadcast journalist Serena Scott arrive to make a documentary about the discovery, and the sinister Hungarian noblewoman, known as the most prolific female serial killer in history. 
The two Americans could cope with roughing it in a fifteenth-century castle, with no modern amenities. They can even cope with each other, despite their initial mutual dislike for one another, which gradually turns into a mind-blowing attraction. The Diary Cover
But when two girls are tortured and killed in Báthory copycat style, the nearby village is shaken to the core. In terror, they wonder who will be next…

Author’s Note

Erzsébet Báthory (1560-1614) is a known historical figure and was a Hungarian countess, also known as Elizabeth Báthory, The Blood Countess or Countess Dracula. She has been labeled the most prolific serial killer in history, being responsible for the torture and murder of hundreds of young girls. The exact number of her victims is unknown, but is estimated at six hundred and fifty. It is speculated that she kept a diary with the names of all her victims, but if such a document exists, it has never been made public.
*This work is entirely fiction.

EXCERPT from THE DIARY

There are certain dreams where one knows that one’s dreaming. Those dreams where one can even choose and control what happens in the dream—the chances of actually fulfilling some of the fantasies each of us have.
Then there are the true nightmares, which seem more real than any reality one has ever known. The kind of dreams that swallow you whole, consume you, enslave your mind and bend it to their own illusory will.
The girl lay on the table in the torture room, her cuffed hands and feet struggling weakly, rattling the rusted chains. Her body was a mass of wounds, cuts and burns. Blood had clotted in rivulets all over her flesh. She didn’t have the strength to scream anymore, just whimpered pitifully from time to time. I stood helpless in the doorway, unable to move or to utter a sound, feeling trapped in my own terrified body.
The Countess stood looking down at Romelia, eyes glinting with cold-blooded madness, just like the knife she used to caress the girl’s naked body. Her splendid silk gown was the same color as the blood staining the blade. Her hair was piled up high, exposing the milky white, graceful curve of her neck. Her beauty was staggering, but poisonous—the beauty a demon is gifted to lure the innocent to their destruction.
Her red lips stretched into a wicked smile as she ran her finger over one of the girl’s wounds and lifted it to her mouth. When her eyes met mine, I looked into the abyss of evil, as paralyzed as the victim of a snake that mesmerizes its pray.
“It’s not only their blood I need,” she said in a low, sultry voice that chilled my bones to the depths. “I need their fear, their cries. I want to test their pain endurance. It’s fascinating how long they last, some of them. Others are a disappointment.” She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “Their minds just shut down. Their eyes become dull, even duller than they usually are.”
She grabbed the girl’s hair and lifted her head, putting her face close to the young woman’s.
“Wake up!” she shouted, but then let the head drop in disgust when she got no reaction. She sighed.
“This one is gone. Better end it. It’s no fun anymore.”
So saying, she put the knife to the girl’s throat and pressed the sharp edge into the soft flesh, bit by bit, as though cutting into a loaf of bread. When the girl’s body began to convulse and her blood gushed, my own scream seemed to tear me apart from the inside.

“Serena, wake up!”
“No, please, don’t! I beg you, don’t do this!”
“Baby, it was just a dream. Wake up now!”
My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see anything. I only heard Hunter’s voice through the ragged sound of my breathing. He was shaking me, murmuring words I could barely understand over the mad thumping of my heart.
“You were only dreaming,” he said again, taking my face between his hands and staring into my eyes. “It was just a nightmare. It’s gone now, do you understand? Look at me.”
Gradually, I brought his face into focus, concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths that cleared my head. When I nodded, he lowered his forehead over mine for a long moment.
“You know, being awakened by your screams in the middle of the night is going to make my hair gray prematurely.”
Though he tried to sound amused, I could hear the worry in his voice. I stifled a sob.
“I’m sorry, Hunter, I couldn’t help it. It was awful, the dream…”
I closed my eyes, unable to fight the shudder that shook me. He noticed and, drawing the sheet aside, pulled me onto his lap, rocking me gently like a child as he held me tight in his arms.
“I know, baby, I know. I was just kidding. What did you dream about?”
I burrowed my face into his shoulder, trying to get as close as possible to his warmth. I felt so safe and protected by the solid shield of his chest that my terror started to fade, even as I recalled the horrible dream.
“I dreamed of The Countess killing Romelia. She… She had tortured her, and then she started cutting her throat, slowly, agonizingly. She spoke to me. She said it wasn’t only their blood she needed, but their fear and their cries. She wanted to see how long they lasted.”
He stroked my hair as I spoke, keeping my face hidden into his shoulder. I dimly noticed that he had turned on the bedside lamp, which bathed the room in a soft, golden glow.
“It’s normal for you to have such dreams after all that’s happened,” he said, angling my head back with two fingers on my chin, to look down at my face. “You’ve taken this documentary too seriously. That alone was bound to give you nightmares, but Romelia’s murder is far worse than that. It triggered something dark in your subconscious.”
“Hunter, to me it’s obvious there’s a connection here. Don’t you agree?” I asked, staring earnestly up at him.
He nodded grimly.
“Of course there’s a connection. When a castle of The Blood Countess is discovered, a girl is tortured and killed in the same manner The Countess used on her victims. A blind man could see a connection, but what is it?”
I tucked my head under his chin again, unable to find a reply that would ease the frustration in his voice.
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “All I know is that I want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. I know I’ll never forget this, but at least I want to be far away from this place.”
We sat in silence for a while. Finally, I raised my head again to look at him. The low light cast deep shadows over his face and under his eyes. His skin was pale under the two-day stubble.
“I’m sorry I woke you up. I know you need the rest as much as I do. But I really appreciate you coming to my rescue. Thank you,” I added, smiling faintly.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice deep and husky.
At that moment, I discovered he was naked, except for a pair of black boxers. I had been sitting on his lap for at least a quarter of an hour, crawling all over him, but barely now the realization struck me. The smooth skin of his bare chest looked well tanned. His nipples were taut, dark against the dusting of golden hair sprinkled over his magnificent pectorals. It arrowed down over the length of his sinuous, muscled abdomen to disappear under the waistline of his underwear.
I swallowed hard, unable to keep my eyes off his body, so well sculptured it simply defined pure, raw masculinity. My gaze meandered up again and I noticed the tattoo on his left shoulder. It was a dark-gray snake curled around his rounded biceps. Its snarling head with demonic red eyes and bared fangs covered a good portion of the muscled shoulder. A triangle darted through the beast’s mouth, its top corner spearing its head.
“Any special significance?” I asked, indicating the tattoo with a motion of my chin.
“Just a little souvenir I brought from Saudi Arabia.” When I kept staring at him, he elaborated, “A cobra snuck up on me during my last mission in the Force. I was crawling on my belly during a hostage rescue mission, and the son of a bitch jumped right out of the sand. See? The eyes are drawn right where the fang marks were.” He put his fingers on the tattoo, where I could see two small, faint scars beyond the snake’s eyes.
“You were in the Army?”
He nodded shortly.
“Yeah, for ten years or so. But it wasn’t the life I wanted.”
I looked again at the tattoo. Then the light dawned on me. The triangle was in fact the Greek letter Delta.
“Delta Forces?”
He seemed surprised by my perceptiveness, but he nodded again.
I lifted my fingers to trace the marks on his flesh, invaded by an overwhelming feeling of tenderness. My heart melted as I thought of the pain and agony he must have experienced. He had been a soldier. A tough life, for tough men…
“You could have been killed,” I whispered, still touching him gingerly. Absurdly enough, I felt tears sting my eyes for the man who seemed to have such little happiness in his life. I wanted to cradle his head to my chest and comfort him like a child, to stroke his hair and show him the beauties of the world.
“I wasn’t,” he said gently.
He bent his head, lifting my hand to his mouth. His lips were incredibly soft on my palm, his hot breath sending shivers of arousal through my body. Our fingers interlaced and he looked up again. The intensity of his gaze was almost tangible, making my pulse accelerate as desire sizzled between us.

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Funniest love declarations in books

Howdy, everyone! Sorry I’ve been MIA for a while, but I’m working on several projects at a time. I must say, trying to build a bilingual career on two continents is unexpectedly exhausting, and the rewards are slow to come!

Anyway, the idea for today’s post came to me – as most brainstorms do – last night, when I was about to fall asleep. I’m just rereading (for the 7th or 8th time) Nora Roberts’s “Angels Fall”, a book I particularly enjoy, and the excerpt I’m about to reveal made me laugh out loud, as it does every time. The story’s main characters are Reece – a troubled woman who’s trying to escape some deep traumas, and Brody – a man who’s apparently an unfeeling jerk, but who develops a soft spot for the heroine in which many women will find themselves.

Love you worse 2Unlike the typical, syrupy love stories, their romance is more interesting and unusual. So, with this in mind, here is my Top Three Funniest Love Declarations in Books:

#3 is a scene from the very Queen of Comedy, Janet Evanovich and her well-known screw-up heroine, Stephanie Plum, forever torn between the love of two men, Ranger and Joe Morelli:

“How could you be tired? It’s eight o’clock. It’s time to get up! I’m leaving. Don’t you want to kiss me good-bye?”

Nothing. No answer. I whipped the sheet off him and left him lying there in all his glorious nakedness. Morelli still didn’t move.

I sat on the bed next to him. “Joe?”

“I thought you were going to work.”

“You’re looking very sexy . . . except for Mr. Happy, who seems to be sleepy.”

“He’s not sleepy, Steph. He’s in a coma. You woke him up every two hours and now he’s dead.”

“He’s dead?”

“Okay, not dead, but he’s not going to be up and dancing anytime soon. You might as well go to work. Did you walk Bob?”

“I walked Bob. I fed Bob. I cleaned the living room and the kitchen.”

“Love you,” Morelli said from under the pillow.

“I l-l-l-like you, too.” Shit.

 

 ~Eleven On Top, JANET EVANOVICH

 

#2 presents Claire and Jamie Fraser, the famous characters from “OUTLANDER”, the equally famous odyssey written by Diana Gabaldon, which has inspired Starz to create the TV series with the same name. This is when Claire first declares her love to her new husband:

“Oh, Jamie, I do love you!”

This time it was his turn to laugh. He doubled over, then sat down at the roadside, fizzing with mirth. He slowly fell over backward and lay in the long grass, wheezing and choking.

“What on earth is the matter with you?” I demanded, staring at him. At long last, he sat up, wiping his streaming eyes. He shook his head, gasping.

“Murtagh was right about women. Sassenach, I risked my life for ye, committing theft, arson, assault, and murder into the bargain. In return for which ye call me names, insult my manhood, kick me in the ballocks and claw my face. Then I beat you half to death and tell ye all the most humiliating things have ever happened to me, and you say ye love me.” He laid his head on his knees and laughed some more. Finally he rose and held out a hand to me, wiping his eyes with the other.

“You’re not verra sensible, Sassenach, but I like ye fine. Let’s go.”

 

~Outlander, DIANA GABALDON~

 

And now…Periods love

 

#1, the excerpt that has started this post, and one of the many reasons I love Nora Roberts’s books, full of edgy humor, among other things:

“I love you. I’m in love with you.”

She heard absolutely nothing for ten full seconds. And when he did speak, she caught the faintest trace of fear mixed in with the annoyance.

“Hell. No good deed goes unpunished.”

She laughed, rich and full and long. And the warmth of it soothed her raw throat, her raw nerves. “And that’s why, I must be out of my mind. Don’t worry about it, Brody.”

 

~Angels Fall, NORA ROBERTS~

 

I hope you enjoyed this post, and if it put a smile on your face, as it was intended, feel free to share the fun! 😉

Three reasons why you should read

I’ve always heard that, ironically, writers read very little because of the lack of time. Well, I’m proud to be the exception to this rule. While it’s true I don’t have much time to read, I listen to audio books most of the day, and my Mp3 Player is always handy. Thanks to my husband and the wonderful technology that makes this possible, I can turn every e-Book in audio format with a program called Text Aloud. Listening to books makes my life better, it makes it easier to cook and clean 12507589_10153080083915834_2906003444876111692_nthe house—which I hate, makes loneliness less painful during the long hours my husband is at work. Books can put a smile on my face and help me relax as nothing else does.

I’ve loved reading ever since I was four and my mother taught me how to read. I suppose it was both an acquired as well as an innate taste, since my father is not only an avid reader, but a writer as well. Our home has always been filled with books of all kinds, and that makes the memories of my childhood pricelessly wonderful. I’m sad to see the generations that come after me read less and less. Maybe that’s why I’m so happy when I receive messages from teenagers who say they love, or at least like my books. That means they read, so there is still hope.

Why read? others ask me. Why read when you can play a game on your Play Station or watch a movie bursting with sex and violence? Well, I’ll give you 3 good reasons why books will make your life better:

  1. Reading makes you SMARTER.

It’s been scientifically proven over and over again that reading has tremendous influence in developing your intellect, improving your memory and imagination. It doesn’t matter if you prefer fiction or non-fiction, there’s always something to learn from a book. Your entire vision of the world changes, your vocabulary improves, and you become able to carry conversations regarding a number of subjects you’ll have to tackle one day for a job interview, or to impress a potential lover. You’ll never sit awkwardly again in a room full of smart people, embarrassed that you have no notion of ridiculously simple things, like on which continent Egypt is located, or who invented the light bulb. Shame on you! 😛

  1. Reading helps you RELAX.

Personally I prefer reading fiction, anything that contains a love story, to be more specific. Why? Because reading helps me escape the trivial or sometimes tragic problems of daily life. It gives me a state of optimism, a mental break from my inner turmoil, and sometimes even helps me find the most unexpected solutions to the problems I was trying to get away from. There’s nothing more stress-releasing than lying in bed or in a tub full of foamy hot water, reading a good book. I mean, what’s not to love about indirectly living the adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn from the comfort of your own bedroom?

  1. Reading makes you SEXIER.

FB_IMG_1455585468715You might think I’m crazy by this time, but I’ll prove to you in a minute that I’m not. It’s a known fact that women read more than men. Consequently, women find men who read immensely more attractive than those who don’t. After all, unless the woman you like is a sports fanatic, what the hell do you have to talk about together? This might shock you, gentlemen, but while you’re watching your favorite ball game, be aware that your girlfriend/wife is getting on with her current book boyfriend. Because you know what? Women who read are not only smarter, but those who love romance novels especially are also hornier and much more creative in bed.

So, guys, you’d better put down the remote and grab a book from time to time if you don’t want to be replaced by a fictional character. Better yet, buy your lover a pile of romance books and a negligee, and I can guarantee neither of them will collect dust! 😉

To be on the other side of the pen

A LITTLE CHAT WITH MELINDA DE ROSS

INTERVIEWER: INTERNATIONAL AUTHOR ELISEI VIRGIL DOBRICA

 Interviu

A few months ago, I was invited to give an interview for a local newspaper, Realitatea Teleormaneana, owned by the well-known author Elisei Virgil Dobrica. I finally got the time to translate it for my English-speaking friends. Here’s what we talked about:

1. Melinda, give us a little background for our readers.

A: I’m rather an odd mix of Romanian, Russian, Cossack, and perhaps some other genes as well. Most of my ancestors were intellectuals, both my great grandfathers fought in World War One, and my Russian great grandmother was well known as a witch. All that said, I’m pretty fond of my background and have promised myself to make my genealogical tree one day, as a legacy for my children.

As for myself, I have graduated a Mathematics and Informatics high school, after which I graduated Law School. I have been a professional target shooter for ten years, but I was forced to retire due to health issues.

2. How did your literary career start? What have you accomplished so far, at the age of twenty-eight?

A: It’s a funny thing that, although I’ve worked as an editor for several local newspapers ever since I was eighteen, I didn’t realize my vocation was of being a writer until I was twenty-three. In a difficult period of my life, with the prompting and unconditional support of my family, writing helped me find myself again and discover my true vocation.

My first novel, Rendezvous with Faith (initially Rendezvous with Hymera) was published by two American publishers in April and September 2013 respectively. My next two novels, Mirage Beyond Flames and Dante’s Amulet, along with a short story called Be My Valentine are currently published by Secret Cravings Publishing, an American publisher located in Tennessee, winner of several literary awards and holder of an impressive literary portfolio of over two hundred authors. To me is an incredible privilege I have become a part of the Secret Cravings Publishing and I am confident things won’t stop here.

3. What is the subject of your latest novel?

A: My latest novel, Chronicles of The Blood Countess, is a very special project, a combination of Thriller, Suspense and steamy Romance, based on a real historical figure: Erzsébet Báthory, a bloody countess of the fifteenth century Hungary, who was labeled the most prolific female serial killer in history.

4. Why Melinda de Ross?

A: My real name, Anca-Melinda Coliolu, is a bit too long and difficult to pronounce in English. Melinda De Ross is a sort of American-ish version of Melinda Drozd, my maiden name. My father came up with this idea, as he uses the pen name Chriss D. Ross for his international works, soon to be published.

5. As far as I know, you write your books straight in English. Aren’t you interested in a Romanian publisher?

A: So far, I wasn’t; however, this year I want to expand my horizons, especially if a Romanian publisher would want to translate and publish my works. I write in English because I find this language more expressive, suggestive and melodious. Personally, I express myself better in English.

6. What themes/subjects do you prefer?

A: So far, I’ve experimented from book to book with several genres: Paranormal, Suspense, Comedy, Thriller. The only element that will never miss from my books is a love story.

7. What is a good book, in your opinion?

A: Ah, the first tough question… A good book is a story that doesn’t allow you to tear yourself away from it, not only when it’s midnight and your eyelids are drooping. You have to turn the page. No matter the genre, this is my vision on what a good book means.

8. Do printed books have a future, considering E-books are cheaper and much more accessible?

A: The printed books will never die. It might be cheaper and easier to read an E-book, but real readers will always feel the need to have their favorite books in their libraries, to thumb through them, enjoy the texture of the paper and smell the scent of ink and tale.

9. What are your hobbies?

A: One of the greatest passions of my life, besides my husband, are books. Ever since I was four and my mother taught me to read, books have been my dearest refuge. Besides that, I adore spending time with my husband, taking walks in nature, I like travelling, shopping—we are both addicted to shopping— and I love old movies.

10. Favorite food and beverage?

A: I admit I am a huge gourmand. I love traditional Romanian food (sarmale, mamaliguta, papanasi, ciorba de burta, etc), but I am also addicted to fast food, and I never let a day pass by without eating something sweet. Natural fruit juices are my first choice of drinks.

11. What are your favorite books? What authors influence you in your career?

A: The books are too many to count. I could give only a few examples, starting with Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series, J.D. Robb’s In Death series, Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series. As for classics, I enjoy Charles Dickens, Mary Stewart, Agatha Christie, and a few Romanian authors I like are Mircea Eliade, George Calinescu, Nicolae Filimon.

I’m very much influenced by Diana Gabaldon, Nora Roberts, Jilly Cooper, Mary Stewart, Sandra Brown, and so many others.

12. Favorite song?

A: Still got the blues—Gary Moore, Lady in red—Chris De Burgh, and a few dozen more.

13. Favorite actor?

A: Gerard Butler.

14. The dictum that guides you in life?

A: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger – Friedrich Nietzsche.

The weekend humor pill

Happy Saturday everyone! Thanks to my dear friend and fellow author Susan Tarr, who sent me this literary gem, I started my day rolling on the floor with laughter, and this is something I want to share with you all.

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY – A husband’s point of view by Pam Ayres

The missus bought a Paperback,devil girl
Down Shepton Mallet way,
I had a look inside her bag;
T’was “Fifty Shades of Grey”.
Well I just left her to it,
And at ten I went to bed.
An hour later she appeared;
The sight filled me with dread…
In her left she held a rope;
And in her right a whip!
She threw them down upon the floor,
And then began to strip.
Well fifty years or so ago;
I might have had a peek;
But Mabel hasn’t weathered well;
She’s eighty four next week!!
Watching Mabel bump and grind;
Could not have been much grimmer.
And things then went from bad to worse;
She toppled off her Zimmer!
She struggled back upon her feet;
A couple minutes later;
She put her teeth back in and said
I am a dominater !!
Now if you knew our Mabel,
You’d see just why I spluttered,
I’d spent two months in traction
For the last complaint I’d uttered.
She stood there nude and naked
Bent forward just a bit
I went to hold her, sensual like                                   
And stood on her left tit!
Mabel screamed, her teeth shot out;                          
My god what had I done!?lol

She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
“Step on the other one”!!
Well readers, I can’t tell no more;
About what occurred that day.
Suffice to say my jet black hair,
Turned fifty shades of grey.

Now that hopefully you’ve all laughed as hard as I did, I want to make my own contribution to this hilarious post and add an excerpt from my Romantic Comedy called Unabridged. Angelina Jameson, editor at a magazine named Unabridged, receives a letter from someone named Zorro Kalashnikov. And when she reads the letter…

Unabridged FinalThe Unabridged headquarters were in full activity. I briefly opened the door to Blade’s office to blow him a kiss, and found him almost buried in paperwork. I waved hastily and withdrew, but not before I heard him shout, “Chicken!”

I widened my steps to quickly put distance between me and his office, with its monstrous stacks of papers and things to be seen to. I had my own stuff to cope with. A smaller pile of papers waited on my own desk. I eyed them grimacing when I plopped down in my chair. Mail was always an unpredictable Pandora’s Box. I often found love letters, marriage proposals, indecent suggestions, and on one unfortunately memorable occasion, I received a high resolution picture of the smallest and most shrunken penis I’d ever seen. It’s not that I’ve seen a lot, but that one—which incidentally belonged to a guy from Pakistan—was indeed a terrible sight.

With that less than encouraging thought in mind, I started sorting out the envelopes, placing them in categories. One of them was postmarked New Zealand. That caught my attention and aroused my curiosity, so I opened it to find a two page letter signed by a certain Zorro Kalashnikov.

Raising one eyebrow, I reclined against Gym’s backrest and started reading the printed sheets.

Dear Miss Jameson,

First, allow me to congratulate you on your article called ‘Billionaires, BDSM and Blah-blah-blah’. I read every edition of your magazine online, and I enjoy it tremendously. Along with the new look of ‘Unabridged’, last Saturday’s edition was like a breath of fresh air. I have been following your weekly column for the past two years and I was actually wondering if you would ever approach the subject of the pseudo-literary phenomenon involving BDSM and kinky billionaires. Personally, I only managed to digest twenty pages of the trendiest book on this subject, because after that I got the impression I was reading only insignificant variations on the same flavorless text. However, the little reading proved to be enough for me to form a pretty clear idea regarding the rest.

Even though it might seem paradoxical, the way-too-explicit insistency of the sex scenes drove me to the assumption that in fact, with all that lusty abundance, the author proved an acute lack of imagination. Following this line of reasoning, I reached the conclusion that, in creating the artificial main male character, the author in question had as a model a real person. This urged me to start an ample research to identify the mysterious specimen who ignited the author’s inspiration.

I won’t bore you with the detailed recounting of my investigation, but will only lay out the interesting elements I found out with this occasion. Unlike the fascinating and charismatic protagonist of said monument of verbosity, the original model was neither too young, nor well schooled, not even good looking, and by no means a billionaire. He was an illiterate, jobless porter, rendered stupid with drink, with no specific address and who frequented a sordid honky-tonk where he earned some extra money by exposing his cock—a truly impressive tool, which adequately tickled and stimulated, reached fifteen inches in length and five inches in diameter.

A chuckle escaped my lips at this point, but I muffled my laughter and went on with this extremely interesting read.

Since the result of those measurements was confirmed by several independent sources from the subject’s entourage, it wasn’t necessary to personally check their accuracy. The same sources also informed me that, a good while back, our porter was visited several times in that honky-tonk by an enigmatic lady armed with a voice recorder. Seeing as the meetings took place in a private corner, I couldn’t obtain any pertinent information regarding the discussions between the two. Also, the visitor’s identity remained unknown. But a faithful client of the joint provided me with the lady’s description, after I bought him several glasses of some foul-looking brandy. I quote: ‘Twas a fancy-looking broad, mate. She came here with a limo and a driver, and she was kinda like pudgy-looking, and only by her gear you could tell she ain’t a man.’

I abstain from making any speculations regarding the lady’s identity. I am more than pleased to have cleared up the mystery.

Zorro Kalashnikov

P.S: I leave to your judgment the differentiation between truthful and credible.

By this time, I was hooting with laughter and tears of mirth had formed at the corners of my eyes. I was still in this hilarious state when Blade came into my office a few moments later. He stared at me in puzzled amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

“Take a look at what the mailman brought in,” I said still laughing and handed him the overly-comical letter, holding my aching stomach with one hand. “We should offer this guy a job.”

~Excerpt from Unabridged~

Have a great weekend everyone, and if you’ve enjoyed this post, please share and reblog. ❤