Michelle Chambers Romance- More Than Simply Romance

The Woman In The Portrait

2012-02-16T03:27:00.001-08:00

Finished my short story- The Woman In The Portrait (40+K)

Now up and onward to my next short story- The Equestrian

No. 53

2012-02-07T03:13:00.000-08:00

Shakespeare Masquerade no. 53 in Romance category at Fictionwise. Never had a book ranked so high

My novel Blood of His Fathers offered as a prize

2011-12-18T08:48:00.000-08:00

Michelle Chambers
http://ramblingsfromthischick.blogspot.com/2011/11/winners-galore.html

just discovered someone won a copy of my novel Blood of His Fathers on this blogsite.

thank you for spreading the word

Ramblings From This Chick: Winners Galore
ramblingsfromthischick.blogspot.com

UPDATE WIPs

2011-10-10T03:14:00.002-07:00

The Woman In The Portrait- page 110/? FINISHED 43,700K

The Equestrian - page 45/?

Queen Takes King- page 8/?

The Flawed Princess - page 1/?

Current WIP

2011-08-31T00:09:00.000-07:00

...is currently Untitled.

It was tentatively titled The Choice She Made but I'm thinking of re-titling. The problem is I've got no ideas :(

3.5 out of 5 stars for Shakespeare Masquerade from Night Owl Reviews :(

2011-08-10T16:36:00.000-07:00

4 out of 5 stars :)

2011-08-02T00:54:00.001-07:00

I came across a 4 out of 5 stars for Shakespeare Masquerade from a reader at All Romance eBooks. It restores my belief that I didn't write a completely shitty story.

2 Hearts rating- never had that before :~

2011-07-31T01:57:00.000-07:00

Okay...I returned from my holiday in France to a 2 Hearts rating for Shakespeare Masquerade.
Devastated is really not the word to describe how I felt. Firstly, because I've never received a 2 anything review before and secondly, because the story didn't deserve such a low rating.
I hope the story is better received elsewhere. Fingers crossed.

Nook and Kindle

2011-07-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

Shakespeare Masquerade now available on Nook from Barnes and Noble and Kindle from Amazon.
Enjoy.

Rejection email

2011-07-18T03:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, just had a jolt of reality. Because I have a couple of published stories doesn't necessarily mean everything I put out will be accepted.
I'm looking to re-release an old story but it was rejected. So, in it goes back into the bottom drawer until I find time to rewrite it--again.

Autumn person

2011-07-14T03:27:00.000-07:00

It's officially autumn in The Hague-winds, rain, low temperatures. Must be my psyche but personally I love the rainy weather (without any accompanying devastation). Contrary to many I get depressed in summer. Strange but true. So, what season are you?

Quote from Shakespeare Masquerade

2011-07-14T02:48:00.001-07:00

“You want me to find you a husband? That’s insane. We’re not exchanging handbags.”

Shakespeare Masquerade- An excerpt

2011-07-13T09:36:00.000-07:00

Read an Excerpt

Barrister-Wells Auction Rooms,
Glastonbury

The auctioneer lifted his bespectacled gaze to the back of the red velvet flocked wallpapered hall and acknowledged the latest bid with a perfunctory nod of his head.

“One point two million pounds!” he said.

The room sighed a collective breath. Hushed whispers and low murmers filled the shocked silence once more as curiosity took the place of surprise. The gathered guests twisted and turned in antique gilded chairs, craning their necks for a glimpse of the man who had raised the bar by more than half a million pounds.

One point two million pounds?

“Ladies. Gentlemen,” the auctioneer pleaded.

He raised an imploring hand. “May I have your attention? One moment. Please—”

The sharp crack of his gavel on the sound block rang out with firm conviction through the vaulter Elizabethan hall and garnered an immediate reaction. Voices quieted and faces froze.

The auctioneer cast a steady gaze around the room and, certain he’d regained everyone’s full attention, focused on the young woman sitting five rows back from the front, near the aisle.

He pursed his lips. “Madam, the bid stands against you at one point two million pounds. Do I hear one point three million for Cadfan Abbey?”

Magdalena Perez sat with bated breath and curled her toes in her tall boots. She pinched the glossy property magazine tighter between shaking fingers and squared her shoulders against the weight of stares now singling her out.

How could this have happened?

She had been home free. She’d easily topped the highest bid with her offer of five hundred thousand pounds. The auctioneer had accepted it as a credible bid. He’d raised his gavel to close the deal—

Then came the curt, masculine voice from somewhere at the back of the hall, scuttling her chances and shattering her hopes of winning the bid for Cadfan Abbey.

Unlike everyone else, she’d refused to acknowledge this man or be impressed by his smart-assed tactics. And now all eyes had turned to her. Perhaps, he was watching her, too, waiting for her to lose her nerve.

She grimaced.

One point two million pounds. Absurd!

Every property developer worth his or her salt knew the twelfth-century abbey founded by French Savigniac monks wasn’t worth even half that much. It lay practically in ruins. Although, unlike a great many of its contemporaries, it’d fared far better throughout the centuries, having survived storms, wars and even Henry the Eighth’s determined efforts to dissolve it. And yet, despite its ruinous structure, there was enormous potential to rebuild.

She shifted uneasily in the Louis XVI giltwood chair. She crossed her legs at the knees and tried to mask the nervous tick of her booted heel against the highly polished wooden floor.

Perez Developments teetered on the brink of bankruptcy—a situation that wasn’t set to improve any time soon in the current economic environment—certainly not with clients readily reneging on their contracts left, right and center. But to sue for breach of contract cost time she didn’t have and money she couldn’t spare.

She squirmed a little more in her seat. Today’s auction had been about so much more than saving her mother’s company, but she harshly shoved those reasons to the back of her mind.

The Town Councilors had called on independent property developers to bid for the abbey on their behalf. However, there had been a proviso. The Grade II listed building would be renovated specifically as sheltered accommodation to house the increasing number of young women living on the town’s streets. Its main aim would be to prepare these young outcasts for work, college and life, without thought of profit.

That meant the small developers had little or no chance of ever recouping their investment on this vast and selfless project. Many had refused, but Magdalena had persuaded her mother, founder of Perez Developments, to accept the caveat.

The Council didn’t have the funds to buy the abbey, but the growing problem had to be addressed. So, she’d sold her mother the vision of a profitable future, convincing her of the financial benefits Perez Developments would ultimately reap if their bid proved successful. None of which meant anything anymore. How could she have been so careless?

The Council’s not-so-secret intent to block, delay or bury beneath a pile of red tape any and all planning permission submitted by richer, private investors with shareholders to appease placed her firmly in a position to successfully bid for the abbey. She’d been so sure of herself, her ability and her success.

And she’d done her homework.

She’d exhaustively researched the remaining competition. None of the smaller companies had assets substantial enough to greatly exceed the abbey’s asking price. And yet, the inconceivable had still happened. She’d not only lost the abbey, but she’d probably lost the Council its only chance to acquire it. The fallout from this didn’t bear thinking about.

She released a silent breath.

What was she going to tell her mother…or their employees for that matter? She’d practically guaranteed the personnel at Perez Developments their jobs. She’d let everyone down, herself included.

God, what a mess.

“Madam, will you give me one point three million pounds?”

She would probably have to sell the entire bulk of her own assets to pay for the abbey, not to mention the exorbitant commission on top of that! But she couldn’t leave without hazarding one final bid. And maybe, just maybe it would be enough.

She inhaled slowly and deeply and mentally crossed her fingers. She caught the auctioneer’s eye and nodded.

The stout, bespectacled man exhaled with visible relief and returned the gesture. He straightened and squared his shoulders and looked sternly about the room.

“Thank you, madam. One point three million pounds from the young lady seated to my right. Do I hear one point four?”

Magdalena kept her gaze firmly fixed on the auctioneer’s face.

Let the hammer fall. Please.

An unexpected hum of excited voices at the back of the hall interrupted the proceedings and drew everyone's attention. Heads turned as one. The auctioneer opened his mouth to protest the renewed disturbance but then abruptly closed it. His eyebrows shot into his hairline, prompting Magdalena to glance over her shoulder to see what or who had hijacked the room.

“Miss Smythe, Lord McFarlane,” the auctioneer said. “Welcome.”

Her fingers tightened about the brochure. She hadn’t been prepared for the sharp slam of jealousy in her gut. She sucked in a shuddering breath and tensed her spine at the name exploding through her mind.

Niall McFarlane?

She clamped her lips together, surprised at the idiotic tears stinging the back of her eyes. Whatever Niall and she had shared had ended twelve years ago, yet the mere thought of him being in the same room was enough to send the cold shadow of their past slithering down her spine.

She swept her eyes closed and suppressed the onslaught of unbidden memories, of being eighteen, chaste and in love.

He drew level to her seat and strode obliviously past. She must have stopped breathing, although she was unaware of it, for now she drew in a long, ragged breath. She slumped back against the chair and clutched the catalog even tighter to her chest, but couldn’t bring herself to look at his face. Not yet.

Niall McFarlane was a celebrity, a king in the business world. Which was rather apt considering he could reputedly trace his ancestry back to arguably the last king of Wales, Cadwaladr ap Cadwallon. And from all she’d read about McFarlane Industries and Real Estate. Niall wasn’t only revered but respected by his peers.

She covertly eyed the elegant beauty standing at his side. It was hardly a surprise to see Polly Smythe on his arm. Polly had been Lady McFarlane’s choice of a bride for her son twelve years ago, and now it looked as if a public engagement was finally on the cards. Their on-again, off-again relationship had been the cause of much speculation in the years they’d been together, but neither party had officially confirmed nor denied the persistent rumor.

For one foolish moment in time, she’d thought Niall wanted her, had loved her and hadn’t cared she was the housekeeper’s daughter. Or didn’t come from old money, have the right clothes or moved in higher social circles. How wrong she was.

Niall brought his mouth closer to Polly’s ear. She ignored the unaccustomed skip of her heartbeat. He tightened his arm about the redhead’s slender waist. He spoke, and Polly’s pink-glossed lips curved into a broad smile. Polly pressed her hand against his chest and playfully tossed her head, stirring the hair spilling down her back.

She forced her gaze back to the auctioneer.

“Madam,” he said, “the bid is back to you. I have one point five million pounds from Lord McFarlane. Will you give me one point six?”

Breathe, Magda.

She could scarce feel her fingers. She couldn’t have clasped the brochure any tighter if she tried. Twelve years was a long time, perhaps Niall wouldn’t recognize her. She wore contacts now, instead of the thick-rimmed glasses she used to wear, and her loose curls hung past her shoulders.

She reached a hand to her throat and swallowed her disappointment. Then shook her head once in defeat.

“One point five million pounds, going once,” the auctioneer bellowed. “One point five million pounds, going twice. Make no mistake, I’m going to sell Cadfan Abbey—”

She rose calmly to her feet and coaxed her legs down the center aisle toward the back of the hall. She didn’t need to stay and hear the auctioneer confirm her failure or witness Niall’s pleased look and Polly’s satisfied smile.

Her heels tapped conspicuously against the polished floor, and she fought the urge to run. She reached the exit door, yet stilled her hand at the sharp, definitive crack of the gavel against the sound block.

“Sold to Lord McFarlane for one point five million pounds!”

Enthusiastic applause and congratulatory noises rippled around the room, yet her name whispered above the din on a murmur only her heart could hear. She spun abruptly on her heel and instinctively met Niall’s gaze across the crowded hall.

Release day tomorrow- Quote from Shakespeare Masquerade

2011-07-12T09:59:00.000-07:00

“You got your pound of flesh. I hope you choke on that goddamn abbey.”

Shakespeare Masquerade- Release day tomorrow

Coming soon- Releasing Wednesday July 13th- Shakespeare Masquerade

2011-07-11T16:36:00.000-07:00

Fairytale Bride

2011-07-05T16:21:00.000-07:00

Fairytale Bride available in kindle edition on amazon

Now available in paperback

2011-07-03T03:45:00.000-07:00

“This isn’t open to negotiation, Jessica.”

Blood of His Fathers is now available in paperback from amazon.com

coming soon- Shakespeare Masquerade (July 13th)

COMING SOON from Resplendence Publishing LLC- SHAKESPEARE MASQUERADE

2011-07-02T05:25:00.001-07:00

okay...moving on

2011-06-19T14:18:00.000-07:00

Okay, completed the revised edits for Shakespeare Masquerade. Now I can get back to The Choice She Made. I love this story.

Edits...Shakespeare Masquerade

2011-06-14T01:39:00.000-07:00

Busy editing Shakespeare Masquerade. Not too painful at the moment. Can't wait to get back to my WIP The Choice She Made, though.

Draft cover- Shakespeare Masquerade

2011-06-11T10:27:00.000-07:00

R.I.P Nibbet

2011-06-11T10:23:00.000-07:00

Our pet hamster Nibbet died today. A truly sad experience. She will be missed because she was loved

Shakespeare Masquerade has a release date

2011-05-25T15:01:00.000-07:00

Shakespeare Masquerade released date JULY 13th.

Updates

2011-05-06T08:08:00.000-07:00

Treason has been deemed more Historical Fiction than Historical Romance, but I'm not going to rewrite it. Will try to submit it as an Historical Fiction to another publisher.

The rewrite for Shakespeare Masquerade is complete. Barring any major gaffes it should be good to go (fingers crossed)

Okay, so I've turned my attention to The Choice She Made- my interracial romance with a twist. I love this story. The first 50 pages are done. Yay! Go me!

Another GREAT review for Blood of His Fathers

2011-02-22T00:45:00.001-08:00

Hugs to my editor for helping me to polish this story within an inch of its life, and huge THANKS to Miz Heart at Miz Love Loves Books.

Michelle Chambers

http://mizlovelovesbooks.blogspot.com/2011/02/sinners-and-saints-book-one-alexander.html?zx=8a016169fc10fcf0

Getting Nowhere, Fast

2011-01-27T03:41:00.001-08:00

I wish I didn't have the urge to edit as I write. It's a laborious, time-consuming and irritating idiosyncrasy. It's like walking for hours only to find you're on a treadmill going nowhere, fast.

Possible Release Date TREASON

2011-01-12T03:37:00.000-08:00

My Historical novel, TREASON, could be re-released in November 2011????

Update

2010-12-22T07:41:00.000-08:00

Right, my latest short story Shakespeare Masquerade is finished and submitted to my editor.

Blood of His Fathers- 5 star and Best Book review

2010-12-02T11:34:00.000-08:00

Can't believe Blood of His Fathers received a 5 star and Best Book review from Long and Short Reviews.

Will come back and write something sensible when I'm not squeeing like a fangirl

WIP

2010-10-27T04:59:00.001-07:00

1) TREASON (previously published as Ripples in the Water)- Historical Fiction (2010) SUBMITTED

2) SHAKESPEARE MASQUERADE - Contemporary Romance (2010) SUBMITTED

3) COLD BLOOD (Book Two of the Sinners and Saints series 2011)- Contemporary Romance- CURRENT WIP

4) UNTITLED (Book Three of the Sinners and Saints series 2011)- Contemporary Romance

5) THE O'NEILL- Historical Fiction (2012)

6) THE CHOICE SHE MADE - Contemporary Romance with historical elements- WIP (2011)

New interracial story- Blood of His Fathers

2010-10-15T01:05:00.000-07:00

Blood of His Father NOW AVAILABLE from FICTIONWISE

Michelle Chambers Romance

2010-10-05T01:58:00.000-07:00

Blood of His Fathers AVAILABLE NOW from

http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Fathers-Sinners-Saints-ebook/dp/B003WQBD3M

AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK JANUARY 2011

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bloodofhisfathers-444270-148.html

Yes, she hated hurting Tom, and even more she hated separating her son Jake from his father, but Jessica Addison knew that to stay married to a man she never loved is no way to live. She walked away from her marriage with the intention of discovering herself as a person, but Jessica is about to find out more than she ever wanted or needed to know.

To say he hates his father would be like saying people did not care for Hitler, but Jason McCormack knows firsthand the power and evil behind the public persona of Alexander McCormack, and it makes Hitler look like a humanitarian. He has no intention of letting one more innocent person suffer his father’s wrath, and to do that he will have to keep her very close.

It should have been a relatively boring evening going to her high school reunion, but for Jessica it turns out to be the beginning of a nightmare. She is virtually accosted by a man who awakens something in her body that she has never known, but it is his message to her that stops her heart.

Michelle Chambers Romance-- love just got a little bit more complicated

Excerpt #2- Blood of His Fathers

2010-08-10T07:21:00.000-07:00

* * * *
The party was in full swing when Jess and Claire arrived at the old school. Their entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed and Claire was immediately swooped upon by a gaggle of chatty females. But she managed an apologetic smile before being whisked away to the other side of the Banqueting Hall. Jess brushed a nervous hand down the front of her long dress and sighed. Claire had left her alone to face ex-classmates and former tormentors. She pasted a small smile on her face and meandered through the crowded hall, gently kicking at the black and white balloons at her feet.
She could boast some modicum of success as a freelance journalist, and although she’d had numerous pieces published on subjects ranging from the arts to the environment, Jess could find no one who recalled having read any of her articles. That was quite demoralizing. But she took comfort from the fact those who once teased and mocked her during her school years were now busy envying her metamorphosis—jealously guarding husbands and boyfriends on their arm. Now, uncertainties were reversed.
Never one for crowds, she soon sought refuge in the hollow, quieter corridors of the old school, far away from the noise, endless questions and insincere comments.
The school hadn’t changed. Stairs still creaked where they had creaked eons before. Powder blue paint still peeled from the same old places on the same old powder blue walls. Except the ceilings were not as high, corridors not as long and rooms not as eerie and hollow as captured in the blueprint of youthful perceptions.
Jess ambled further through the vaulted hallways, absorbing the ambience of a distant past and battling painful reminders of her own. She left the upper classrooms and returned in quiet contemplation to the ground floor. And then slipped out the emergency exit door leading onto the central quadrangle.
Her strappy high-heeled sandals were hardly appropriate for a brisk, snow-filled night. And she’d left her pashmina in the Banqueting Hall. Head bent, she braced herself against the biting cold and scurried along the stone colonnade to the library at the other side of the quadrangle. The caretaker had promised to unlock the library door. She hoped she’d not be disappointed.
She pulled open the door and was immediately hit by a gulf of air escaping across her face and shoulders. She relished the brief rush of warmth and entered the place where she’d spent plenty of school hours hiding and masking her loneliness. She closed the door behind her and, adjusting her eyes to the darkness, concentrated on listening to the silence.
Faint shafts of moonlight streamed through the high windows, although she didn’t need any light to fuel her memory of the room.
She walked the length of the central aisle, her heels clicking softly over the black and white tiles. Past row upon row of towering bookcases adorned by marble busts of dead poets and literary scholars. Some sitting atop pedestals like bookends and others aloft, gazing down upon their late night guest. Then standing before her under a beautiful stained glass window was the full-length marble statue of the school’s benefactor and namesake. She rubbed her hands over her bare shoulders, warming the chill settling once again upon her skin, and studied the alabaster face shining in the moonlight.
The library door opened and then closed loudly behind her. She froze. Her heart jumped painfully in her chest and blood rushed loudly in her ears. Someone had entered and moved with heavy, measured steps toward her.
Jess spun about. She angled her head and tuned her senses for some clue, some hint of recognition. There was none. She backed away as her panic surged, her breath escaping on a tight whisper.
“Who’s there? Mr. Henry?”
The footsteps drew closer. Eyes wide, she watched the figure of a man draw near without breaking stride. He was too tall to be the elderly caretaker.
She scrambled backward and gasped. “Who are you? What do you want?”
She glimpsed his face in the half light and knew him at once. Her breath locked in her chest as he backed her toward the full-length marble statue.
“Tell Tom I won’t give Jake up,” she blurted with a defiance she didn’t feel.
He stilled. Jess lowered her gaze to his mouth, her memory filling in what she couldn’t clearly see. She shook off the incredible desire to touch him, to have his lips on hers and know his taste. She drew in a shaky breath. The air was cold and dry in her throat and her voice rasped.
“I won’t give Jake up.”
The bright white of his eyes narrowed. “I haven’t come to take your son away from you, Jessica. Tom didn’t send me. I’m here because of Sean.”
She reached a steadying hand behind her and grasped the cold stone there. Her other hand went to her breast as she tried to quell the erratic beat of her racing heart. Her questions, her confusion, were lost under the loud roar of Sean’s name exploding through her brain.
“Sean.” She whispered her disbelief.
She berated herself for the weakness in her voice. She didn’t want to give this man any impression other than that of someone in complete and utter control, but…Sean? She hadn’t seen or spoken to her brother in almost fourteen years. Sean’s name belonged to the past along with everything else she wanted, needed, to forget. Yet in a matter of moments its very utterance had brought the past back in one powerful, painful surge.
Sean had always been uncontrollable and unpredictable, but it was only after their father died that he truly changed. He’d joined a local street gang, rising through its ranks within months to become their leader. Yet every week he would send money. Money Jess had refused to touch, although her mother had no such qualms. Their mother had chosen her own path and Sean’s side—closing her eyes to his violence, his aggression and his criminal dealings.
Jess raised her gaze to the lambent eyes steadily watching her. She had nothing to do with her brother’s life, but would this man hold her accountable for it anyway? She could try racing for the door. He stepped closer, placing his body squarely in front of hers as if she’d spoken the thought aloud.
“I haven’t seen Sean in fourteen years,” she said. “I-If he’s done something…if he owes you money…please, a-allow me time—” She closed her eyes, hating her stutter. “I have a son.”
The air warmed upon her face and she frowned at the slightest touch of his hand against her cheek. She opened her eyes into his. She found it hard to breathe when he looked at her with such intensity. His gaze dropped to the soft rise of her breasts and she touched her tongue to her glossed lips. She pressed her back against the cold stone, welcoming the diversion of its sobering effect against her bare skin. His eyes flitted upward to hers.
“If I was going to hurt you, Jessica, I would’ve done so already,” he murmured.
“Then, what do you want?”
“I want you to come with me,” he said.
He was too composed, his voice too calm. Jess swallowed nervously. He wasn’t giving her a choice.
“Why?”
“The why is for later,” he parried.
Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck and crept down her arms. Sean had been at his most dangerous, too, when his voice was most quiet.
“And if I choose not to come?”
He stepped forward. “I don’t want to think of what might happen to your son if you don’t.”
Jess gasped. Her eyes widened, searching his in the darkness and pleading for him to understand. She dug her fingers into the cold stone behind her certain it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Jake has nothing to do with Sean. And I can’t pay Sean’s debt.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, Jessica. But I need you to trust me.”
“To come with you?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head and frowned. “Why can’t we talk here?”
He placed a hand beside her head on the plinth and leaned forward. He watched her, his expression unreadable even across the part of his face illuminated by moonlight.
“This isn’t open to negotiation, Jessica.”
Fear and uncertainty roller coastered through her veins, and yet she couldn’t deny the vortex of desire churning inside her too. It was absurd. It was crazy. And in her predicament, it made absolutely no sense at all. But he felt their attraction too. She was sure of it.
She heard it in the way he said her full name and had felt it as a shiver passed through him to her when their fingers first touched. She saw it in his eyes every time he looked at her, and it was there now in the way his breath exhaled hotly against her lips. She raised her hands to his chest to draw him closer…to push him away. She didn’t know. His mouth lowered to hers and then stopped.
Frustration, disappointment and relief warred in her heart as she sensed him pull back. She shivered from the rush of cool air hitting her skin, hardly knowing what to make of the onslaught of wanton feelings coursing through her.

----

Note of Explanation

2010-07-27T04:28:00.000-07:00

RIPPLES IN THE WATER will be RE-RELEASED as POLITICS AND TREASON, but with an added 150 pages. And why would I undertake such a thing? Because Ripples in the Water is a darn good yarn. It's received a couple of excellent reviews, but it hasn't sold well. The reason? The cover looks like it's an ad for a copy of the Jehovah Witness' WatchTower rather than a sensual historical novel. What was I thinking? Arrrrggggghhhhhhh!!!!

Get on with it!

2010-07-26T14:47:00.000-07:00

God, I really need to start concentrating and stop procrastinating. This book is not going to edit itself.
Okay. Time to give myself a deadline. One month from today I will submit Politics and Treason (previously released as Ripples in the Water) to Resplendence Publishing. (August 26th)

My latest release, Blood of His Fathers, available from...

2010-07-23T13:22:00.000-07:00

All Romance Ebooks, Amazon.com (Ebook)

I'VE BEEN INTERVIEWED

2010-07-23T06:29:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted to be interviewed on Taylor Tryst's blog site. Drop on by and get to know me.

http://taylortryst.blogspot.com

Finally...

2010-07-18T16:17:00.000-07:00

I've sent out review requests for my latest release Blood of His Fathers and I've swept a broom through my blog. I'm finally ready to knuckle down and finish my works in progress, Politics and Treason and Shakespeare Masquerade.

I'm so excited about these two new stories. And you will be too. Watch this space.

promo/excerpt #1 Blood of his Fathers

2010-06-30T13:39:00.000-07:00

Manchester, England
Friday, February 26

Jessica Addison looked out the first-class compartment window onto the monotonous streak of black tunnel wall flashing by, pleased she hadn’t been stuck with unwanted company for the entire two and a half hour journey. In less than fifteen minutes she would reach her destination. There was no turning back. It was foolish to feel this way, but she was more than a little nervous about attending her high school reunion. She tugged her coat tighter about her body and crossed her legs at the knees.
What would her old-classmates think of her now? How long had it been since she last saw any of them—fourteen, maybe fifteen years? She released a silent breath. They weren’t her friends. None of them had ever been her friends. She didn’t have friends.
Her eyes focused on her reflection in the tinted window. Except for the barest touch of lip gloss she wore no further make-up. The insecure, spotty schoolgirl with large owl-like glasses was gone and in her place was a woman who’d grown in confidence these last few years. A woman who believed in herself far more than she’d ever done before.
Jess tightened her fists until her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. Despite her newfound strength one thing hadn’t changed, her fear of dark enclosed spaces. She closed her eyes and wished the tunnel would hurry and come to an end.
For most of her life she’d been afraid. To live, to love…to give her heart, and she knew who was to blame for that. Her mother. Tom, on the other hand, had thought the explanation a little less complicated. She was simply incapable of loving herself or anybody else, he’d said. Isn’t that why their marriage had failed?
Tom loved her. That’d been evident in his every look and touch, yet the more Tom had wanted her the more she couldn’t help but despise him for it. Jess grimaced. Marriage to Tom had been neither her desire nor her decision. He’d entered her life when she’d been vulnerable and her own happiness had meant nothing. But she’d never imagined she would be the one to hurt him.
She’d tried to make their relationship work and for six years Tom had been enough. But she couldn’t prevent the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘what could’ve been’ from rising up between them. Or stop the pervasive mist of regret from chilling her heart.
It shocked her that she could still remember her first lover. Still hear his voice whispering to her in the darkness, still feel his weight crushing her as she became a woman in his arms. If only she could go back in time and relive that moment. To have the confidence to believe his words and the courage to say yes to all he’d offered. She shouldn’t have runaway.
The train slowed, its wheels screeching softly along the track. She clasped her hands firmly together on her lap. It was absurd. She hadn’t even remembered his name, but one night, so many nights ago, he’d taken a part of her that Tom could never make whole.
The winter sunshine exploded abruptly behind her closed eyelids and she released a heavy sigh, dispelling the idiocy of her fear. The tunnel would’ve come to an end sooner or later. She blinked her eyes open and gazed out onto the red-bricked terraced houses and snow-covered embankments passing by.
It hadn’t been easy taking Jake away from his father. Yet what she wanted, what she needed, what she longed for was something Tom could never give her. A sense of completion. Tom didn’t complete her. Not like—Jess expelled a deep breath and lowered her gaze to her bare ring finger.
She hadn’t regretted the divorce. Tom had said she would. He hadn’t wanted her to suffer the consequences. He hadn’t wanted to see her hurt.
She frowned, puzzled.
Suffer the consequences. A strange choice of words, funny how she’d never considered them before.
A voice crackled over the intercom. She glanced out the window again, half-listening to the obligatory announcements reminding passengers of this and informing them of that—letting her gaze flick over the graffiti-sprayed walls, high voltage junction boxes and weather-beaten signs welcoming her return to Manchester.
“No regrets,” she murmured.
She uncrossed then re-crossed her legs. Why did she let her mother talk her into going to the silly reunion in the first place? With Tom she’d finally found her voice. She’d learned to stand her ground and defend her decisions. Why couldn’t she do that with her mother? Why did she have to be that weak, lost little girl still seeking her mother’s approval?
She ought to hate her mother, but she couldn’t do that either. God knew she had reason enough, but there was Jake to consider now. There was an undeniable bond between him and his grandmother that she couldn’t bring herself to break. Jess smiled as she remembered her son’s beaming, conspiring face the evening her mother came to collect him. The little traitor had gone without as much as a token struggle or backward glance.
“That’s better,” a masculine voice acknowledged.
Her startled gaze lifted to the tall man leaning with nonchalant ease near the exit doors. Everything about him—from his muscular physique encased in an expensively tailored dark suit to the confident curve of his lips and amber colored eyes glittering from beneath straight, dark brows—exuded power and position.
In years gone by Jess would’ve crumbled under the sheer intensity of his scrutiny, but time had taught her to control her emotions and hide her feelings well. She calmly released the breath she was holding and schooled her features into one of blatant disinterest. She tilted her chin and forced herself not to look away.
“What’s better?”
“Your smile,” he said. “Very pretty and all too fleeting.”
Jess lifted a finely shaped eyebrow with practiced indifference. “Really,” she said, unconvinced.
He chuckled. A soft, sexy sound that fluttered down her spine and nestled with incredible precision between her thighs. “Yes, really.”
She tightened her arms across her chest and ignored the unaccustomed warmth spreading up her cheeks and pooling in the pit of her stomach. She turned her face toward the window glad the train had finally pulled into the station. In a matter of moments they would be going their separate ways and she would never think about this man again. Or the way her body stirred to life under the feral heat of his gaze.
The final few passengers in the car filed past her toward the exit. She slid from behind the table separating the double seats and stood, reaching for the overnight bag on the luggage rack above her head. To her dismay it’d shifted during the journey and now lay beyond her searching fingers. She rose on her toes and tried again.
“Allow me.”
She tensed at the sound of his voice behind her. She’d thought he’d gone. She briefly closed her eyes and remembered to breathe.
There was no longer any distance protecting her from their attraction. It practically ignited the air between them and melted her insides. She locked her knees and stiffened her spine, fighting the urge to listen to her body and succumb to the sensual aroma of faint aftershave and masculine scent seducing her senses.
It’d been a long time since a man affected her like this. But she hadn’t simply divorced Tom to get laid by the first handsome man who turned her head or sent her pulse racing. She’d made that mistake a long time ago. She didn’t intend to make it again. She clenched her fists and sought to control her breathing.
His hand stretched above hers as he reached for the travel bag. And whether by accident or design their fingers touched. Jess jerked backward taking her hand with her and collided into the solid frame behind her. He placed his free hand against her stomach and used the length of his body to steady her.
“I’ve got you, Jessica.”
He’d murmured her name. He knew her name.
That sudden realization took hold of her brain sending a cold chill down her spine. She spun sharply from his embrace as quickly as the small space between his body and the table would allow. She craned her neck to meet his gaze and wished she were wearing three-inch stilettos. No one ever called her Jessica, not even Tom had called her that.
Loud voices and approaching steps broke the tensed silence as new passengers in search of seats for the return journey to London moved through the train. Some stayed in the car while others jostled up the narrow aisle behind him en route to the next wagon, pushing him steadily closer into her comfort zone.
The heat of his body seared through her clothes to her flesh, branding the sensitive peaks of her breasts until they swelled, heavy and tight and screamed for relief. She took a step backward, mortified by the very power of her response to him. The table pressed against the back of her thighs, hindering her movement.
He suddenly pulled back and held out the bag to her. She grabbed it with more force than was necessary and clasped it to her chest. She studied a point on his suit.
“H-How do you know my name?”
“Another time, Jessica,” he said.
Was that a threat or a promise? She raised her eyes to his. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips before he turned and walked away from her. She sank back against the table and, expelling a ragged breath, willed her body once more under her control.
Tom!
Her ex-husband’s name exploded through her mind and her heart skidded against her ribs. Tom had threatened to take custody of Jake. He was also wealthy enough to afford the best of everything and everyone—including lawyers.
Jess spun to the window in time to see the tall, dark-haired figure weave through the crowded platform and disappear from view. She rushed from the train. If he worked for Tom she wanted to know.
She stared down the platform.
Shit! Where is he?
“Jess! Jess!”
A loud, shrill voice greeted her with obvious delight from the gate at Platform Seven and she was forced to turn her thoughts to the woman waving with frantic enthusiasm at her. It was Claire. Claire who’d sent the invitation for the reunion and who’d invited Jess for a pre-party get together.
Jess cast a final glance about her and, relaxing her features, commanded her brain to function. She walked with purposeful steps across the platform, although she couldn’t bring herself to return Claire’s genuine smile and warm welcome.

BLOOD OF HIS FATHERS- available now from Resplendence Publishing

2010-06-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8_view_item.html?m8:item=216-200-108-467-165-8

COMING SOON from Resplendence Publishing LLC- BLOOD OF HIS FATHERS

2010-06-30T07:54:00.001-07:00

BLURB- BLOOD OF HIS FATHERS

“Neither you nor your grandfather appreciated what it meant to be born a McCormack. But as long as I live the McCormack fortune will never again belong to a Thomas, never again to descendants of slaves. Do you understand?”
“Jessica is my wife,” Jason elaborated slowly. “A McCormack.”

Alexander McCormack has secretly orchestrated Jessica’s life for the past fifteen years. Decisions she’s deemed to have made are an illusion. Even her marriage proves to be nothing more than elaborate manipulation.

Jessica is no longer content with a life that brings her little joy and no passion. With divorce comes unexpected danger for her and her young son, and Jess’s only recourse for safety lies in an unlikely savior, Jason McCormack.

A hidden backdrop of age-long deceit, hatred and murder slowly manifests as Jessica finds herself drawn physically and emotionally closer to the man her every instinct—and cold hard fact—tells her she should avoid at all costs.

COMING SOON

COMING SOON from Resplendence Publishing LLC- BLOOD OF HIS FATHERS

2010-06-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

'new' book-- Treason

2010-06-15T05:58:00.000-07:00

Okay. I'm ready to rewrite my Historical novel. This story first came out in 2007 titled Ripples in the Water. But I believe the combination of a dud cover and a bit of laziness on my part contributed to its absolute flop.

So, now what I'm going to do is rewrite the story. I've already written a prequel, which on second thought I won't be releasing as an apart story but will interweave within the fabric of Ripples in the Water.

The 'new' book is titled Treason. And with a kickass cover it will definitely be worth the re-release. Here's hoping I can find a publisher to do that.

Watch this space.

Shakespeare Masquerade

2010-05-07T09:22:00.000-07:00

I've just resubmitted Blood of His Fathers for a second round of editing and instead of diving into the book's sequel, Cold Blood, I've decide to complete a story I started last year. Shakespeare Masquerade. I'm about halfway, so if I really concentrate it should be ready by the end of the summer.

It was first submitted as a short story- Pound of Flesh, but my editor thought it would work better as a lengthier tale. And I agree

So, here goes

Up until now...

2010-02-28T03:08:00.000-08:00

Ripples in the Water is Michelle’s first published novel (2007, The Wild Rose Press). It’s one of those stories where the inspiration, she says, came from absolutely nowhere. She’d given birth to her son and was on maternity leave—she used to work as a therapy radiographer. One night she’d awoke without reason or rhyme with three names circling with absolute clarity in her head: Claerdal, Celeste and Guy Fawkes. But she was quite aware at that moment that the object of the exercise would be to link those names somehow. The result being her debut novel, Ripples in the Water.

Michelle has an insatiable love of history and it really doesn’t matter which history. She strives to find the story running parallel to whatever historical event she chooses to write about. History will never change, but there’ll always be someone else’s truth and that is what she tries to convey in her novels.
Ripples in the Water is an historical piece full of intrigue and suspense. It explores the power of coincidence.

Brenda Talley from The Romance Studio says, ‘This novel, written by Ms. Michelle Chambers, has very detailed, interesting scenarios which are spell-binding. The more I read, the more (and faster) I wanted to read...’

Linda L. from Fallen Angel Reviews says, ‘Michelle Chambers cast well-rounded characters that weave an intriguing tale...’

In 2007 Michelle Chambers entered, and won, a short-story (e-book) competition organised by The Wild Rose Press in New York. The story is called Fairytale Bride. It’s a tale of time-travel set in Regency England and explores the premise of the Law of Attraction.
Both Ripples in the Water and Fairytale Bride are available at www.fictionwise.com or www.thewildrosepress.com or www.amazon.com

Michelle has recently submitted a proposal for the prequel to Ripples in the Water, titled Celeste, to Resplendence Publishing LLC in New York. Celeste follows the heroine’s dramatic journey from innocence to worldly-wise while she wrestles with heartache and fears and becomes the woman she need to be in the sequel, Ripples in the Water.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

2010-02-27T11:55:00.000-08:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Author Contact Information: Michelle Chambers
mcbook@live.nl

Blood of His Fathers
Her ancestry can be traced back to his--Love just got a little bit more complicated

New York (June 29, 2010)—Blood of His Fathers isn’t quite what many romance readers would expect, but it doesn’t disappoint. It has some elements of the conventional thriller, the structure of the literary novel and more than a touch of romance without the superficial connotations of that word.
There’s dramatic tension in the story of the McCormacks, their strange background and history and an interesting consideration of the power of coincidence. The story of misguided actions, emotional betrayal, murder and eventual discovery is complex but doesn’t lose its way.
This is either a thriller concealed inside a literary novel or a literary novel dressed as a thriller. The reader can decide which.

####

Ripples in the Water is Michelle’s first published novel (2007, The Wild Rose Press). It’s one of those stories where the inspiration, she says, came from absolutely nowhere. She’d given birth to her son and was on maternity leave—she used to work as a therapy radiographer. One night she’d awoke without reason or rhyme with three names circling with absolute clarity in her head: Claerdal, Celeste and Guy Fawkes. But she was quite aware at that moment that the object of the exercise would be to link those names somehow. The result being her debut novel, Ripples in the Water.

Michelle has an insatiable love of history and it really doesn’t matter which history. She strives to find the story running parallel to whatever historical event she chooses to write about. History will never change, but there’ll always be someone else’s truth and that is what she tries to convey in her novels.
Ripples in the Water is an historical piece full of intrigue and suspense. It explores the power of coincidence.

Brenda Talley from The Romance Studio says, ‘This novel, written by Ms. Michelle Chambers, has very detailed, interesting scenarios which are spell-binding. The more I read, the more (and faster) I wanted to read...’

Linda L. from Fallen Angel Reviews says, ‘Michelle Chambers cast well-rounded characters that weave an intriguing tale...’

Shannon from Coffee Time Romance and More says, 'This book is an undeniable page turner. With its various plots (political treason, rivalry and Celeste’s past) there is never a dull chapter. This books blends in each subplot masterfully to explain the main conflict of the story. I found myself relishing the mystery that prevails in this book as well as enjoying the deeply intense romance between the lovers...'

The power of coincidence, the Yin and Yang of life, the Law of Attraction, are all premises upon which Michelle Chambers bases her novels. And combined with the somewhat darker side of human nature she aims to give the reader a more in-depth and intense look at love. She dissects love into the spectrum she believes it is. As white light is a spectrum of colour, she believes love to be a spectrum of emotion. Sometimes ugly, sometimes beautiful, but shades of love nonetheless.

In 2007 Michelle Chambers entered, and won, a short-story (e-book) competition organised by The Wild Rose Press in New York. The story is called Fairytale Bride. It’s a tale of time-travel set in Regency England and explores the premise of the Law of Attraction.
Both Ripples in the Water and Fairytale Bride are available at www.fictionwise.com or www.thewildrosepress.com or www.amazon.com

Michelle has recently submitted a proposal for the prequel to Ripples in the Water, titled Celeste, to Resplendence Publishing LLC in New York. Celeste follows the heroine’s dramatic journey from innocence to worldly-wise while she wrestles with heartache and fears and becomes the woman she need to be in the sequel, Ripples in the Water.

####

Michelle Chambers has lived in Holland for more than twenty years and is very much at home there. She moved initially from England with the intention of staying for a year, but met her husband with whom she has two children. She’s currently working on two new novels—the first, a sequel to Blood of His Fathers and the second, a tale loosely based on Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice titled Shakespeare Masquerade.

History plays an important role in Michelle’s stories. Her characters have history. Their opinions, behaviour, thoughts, sometimes in the extreme, are influenced much as we are by history- whether that be based on race, religion or experience, although Michelle is a huge fan of happy endings.

For further information please visit: www.miwi-carpediem.blogspot.com or add Michelle as a friend on facebook or myspace.

Michelle Chambers is available for comment at mcbook@live.nl

No more Merlin!

2009-10-25T02:48:00.000-07:00

Come On Michelle! Get your mind of Merlin, Arthur and Guinevere and concentrate on getting your book finished. I'm obsessed by this show and I don't know why!

Michelle Chambers Romance-Love just got a bit more complicated

Work in Progress: Cold Blood- Book Two Sinners and Saints

2009-09-25T05:41:00.000-07:00

Outlining my next novel- A dark romance tentatively titled Cold Blood; basically woman convinced she's destined to die in the rain so...when it rains...Obviously there's a lot more going on than that, but it's one layer

I've done what I wanted to do.

2009-09-25T05:21:00.000-07:00

Sent sent my short story Shakespeare Masquerade: The Housekeeper's Daughter to be critiqued, and sent an email to Resplendence Publishing submitting a prequel, Celeste, to an already published book, Ripples in the Water, I hope to have re-released.

Now to get stuck in Book Two of my Sinners and Saints series- Cold Blood

Early or Late

2009-09-03T23:25:00.000-07:00

I have two children; a boy and a girl. they have always been each other's opposites. Quite extraordinary actually but today it hit me just how poles apart they are. My son leaves everything until the last minute(drives me nuts), my daughter however is always ready and has time to spare. Yet, they both achieve the same good grades.

I just sit back and admire

Shakespeare Masquerade

2009-08-26T13:23:00.000-07:00

I'm so pleased my short story is coming to an end and I LIKE what I've written. This finally feels good enough to submit. Wish me luck!

RESPLENDENCE PUBLISHING

2009-07-13T03:52:00.000-07:00

The next step in my carriere has been set. I just received an email from Resplendence Publishing offering a contract for my latest book, BLOOD OF HIS FATHERS. This is the first in a series titled Sinners and Saints. I can't wait to start Book 2 in this series, but as yet I've still to complete another series titled SHAKESPEARE MASQUERADE for The Wild Rose Press.

It's all go, go, go, and I'm lovin it. I create my best work under pressure, if I do say so myself. Anyway, try out one of my stories and tell me what you think. Would love some feedback. Until then--Happy Days.

my MYSPACE URL my FACEBOOK URL

2009-07-13T03:43:00.000-07:00

http://www.myspace.com/comrom

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home

Michael Jackson is dead!

2009-06-26T01:56:00.000-07:00

Michael Jackson is dead!

I feel my own mortality. I feel vulnerable. I feel the generation I know is coming to an end. I feel alone, but not saddened or shocked by his death.

Go figure.

Fairytale Bride- Through the Garden Gate Anthology

2009-06-20T07:38:00.000-07:00

Available in Print from The WildRose Press- December 4 2009

Feartures - Fairytale Bride by Michelle Chambers-

-and three other Garden Gate finalists-

Isabelle and the Outlaw by Loretta Rogers

Victory's Gate by Leanne Tyler

Sundial by Carrie Lofty

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/

http://www.amazon.com/

Things to do!!

2009-05-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

Things to do:

Re-release Ripples in the Water with a new, sexier cover

Have my name spelled correctly on Fictionwise- Michelle with two 'Ls' and not one.

Perhaps, then, my books may sell. Oh, yeah, hopefully my new story will generate interest in me.

Life's a B****

2009-05-19T04:18:00.000-07:00

Will someone please give me a break? Only yesterday I sent emails to Amazon customer reviewers asking them to review Ripples in the Water, to find, this morning, Ripples in the Water is no longer available!

How much more of this can I stand? Not much.

Well, here goes. Another deep breath and once more into the breach dear friends.

Life's a B****!

Coffee Time Romance Reviews--Ripples in the Water

2009-04-20T14:37:00.001-07:00

Another great review for Ripples in the Water from Coffee Time Romance Reviews. Check it out:

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/Ripplesinthewater.html

Blood of His Fathers

2008-10-24T01:21:00.001-07:00

Finally, I can get back on track. I'm hoping to complete revision work on my latest WIP, titled Blood of His Fathers, by the end of the year.

It's rather premature, but here is one take on Blood of His Fathers, even in its raw stage:

'Blood of His Fathers' is an interesting and successful exercise in the establishment and maintaining of a high level of critical tension while also developing character and situation.

It's not quite what one might expect; it has some elements of the conventional thriller, the structure of a literary novel, and more than a touch of what one must call romance without the negative associations of that word. There is certainly dramatic tension in the story of the McCormacks, their strange background and history, and an interesting consideration of the power of coincidence. The plot is not simple, and is able to present a convincing exploration of motivation. The story, of misguided actions, emotional betrayal, murder and eventual discovery, is complex but nowhere loses its way.

Put very simply, it is a convincing imaginative exploration of the interaction of people and in the plot, the reactions to extreme events. the racist/political (secret cartels) situation is of course topical. Michelle Chambers creates a convincing and believable world, peopled by real characters.

This is a lively readable novel, with a plot that is by no means simple, but is well crafted and does not get too clever and lose its way, the characters are all believable and, in particular, the denouement is strong and effective.

The delineation of character and situation is good; people and places spring from the page with conviction and accuracy, and Chambers' prose is as clear as a windowpane. This is either a thriller concealed inside a literary novel, or a literary novel dressed as a thriller; the reader can decide which.'

Sounds good, huh? Watch this space.

Treason

2008-07-03T00:17:00.000-07:00

I am now satisfied! The title of my new book is Treason. Sounds boring I hear you say; far from it, I cry.

The book centres around the gunpowder plot of 1604 when Catholics plotted to blow up Parliament (in England) and assassinate the king (James the First). Well, I came across information that Robert Catseby, the ring leader in this conspiracy, had in his possession a green, jade gemstone. Historically it belonged to Mary, Queen of Scots, the last Catholic to sit on the throne of England, and is reputed to have come from Excalibur- you know King Arthur's sword.

Now, here is where it gets interesting. Lord Salisbury, king James' principal secretary knew about this Catholic gem. He feared it would be used as a rallying symbol for all Catholics, so he wanted to find it and destroy it- as well as all Catholics, of course. My book begs the question: Was Lord Salisbury- a protestant- behind this Catholic conspiracy?

Want to know the answer? Read Treason.

Will be back with release date and such- but first back to editing the darn thing. Wish me luck!

Treason

2008-04-13T02:18:00.000-07:00

The prequel to Ripples in the Water is finished. It also has a new title- Treason.
Come back to hear more news on its editing and release date. Plus a great, big juicy BLURB!

For Emotional Romance

2008-04-13T02:11:00.000-07:00

My short story- Fairytale Bride- which one the Through the Garden Gate contest has resurfaced again on a number of current bestseller lists at The Wild Rose Press.

Check it out in The English Tea Rose Line at The Wild Rose Press if you like your romance emotional rather than physical: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=645

Article from local newspaper in England- The Bury Times

2008-01-29T00:32:00.000-08:00

IT'S a fairytale come true for former Bury student Michelle Chambers.
The ex-St Gabriel's High School and Holy Cross College girl, who is a full-time writer, has won a short story competition organised by her publishers.
Michelle (41), who now lives in The Hague, Holland, had her first novel "Ripples in the Water" published last year.And her second book "Blood of his Fathers" is due to be published in 2009.

Now, she is celebrating after her short story, entitled "Fairytale Bride", won the writing competition organised by her publishers, New York-based Wild Rose.
Michelle, who left Bury for Holland in 1985, said the criteria for her short story embraced a heroine who holidayed in Bury, and how she time-travelled and found romance. The story can be downloaded from www.fictionwise.com or from www.thewildrosepress.com

Of life in Holland, where she lives with her partner and two children, Michelle said: "I came initially for a year, but life had other plans for me."

Work in Progress- 'Treason'

2008-01-28T03:59:00.001-08:00

My current work in progress is 'Treason.' This is in essence the prequel to my published novel 'Ripples in the Water.'

I'm giving myself two months to complete it.

Michelle

FAIRYTALE BRIDE

2007-11-29T05:27:00.000-08:00

COMING DECEMBER 5TH- DOWNLOAD FROM FICTIONWISE or THE WILD ROSE PRESS

WINNER OF THE THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE CONTEST

2007-11-28T02:57:00.000-08:00

FAIRYTALE BRIDE- Coming soon to the Wild Rose Press.

Through the Garden Gate/ Cover: Fairytale Bride

2007-11-05T11:17:00.000-08:00

I don't know what else to say other than 'thank you.' My story has been interpreted perfectly in this cover.

Michelle Chambers

Ripples in the water- Available now

Fairytale Bride- coming soon (December 2007) to The Wild Rose Press

Blurb:

To those lucky enough to hear, the Blue Moon may speak at midnight, and it may grant your wish…On one such night, in sheer desperation, Maddie Elliott set aside scepticism and doubt to make a wish under the magic of the Blue Moon’s light…
The magic brings Maddie, through a secret garden gate-to a world unknown to her, but whose sights and sounds overwhelm her senses with strange familiarity-to her heart’s desire. To her wish.
Incomprehension and confusion fill her heart when she meets the Earl of Ruglen. The Law of Attraction couldn’t possibly be wrong, yet how could she long for someone whom she wholeheartedly despised? Surely, the Blue Moon was mistaken.

EXCERPT:

“A mouse?”
Lord Ruglen lifted the candle, he held, high between them, and Maddie saw, in the briefest of moments, the challenging lift of his eyebrow refuting her claim before he blew out the flame. Her eyes adjusted again to the moonlit shadows, and focussed on the brightness of his.
“Leave us,” Lord Ruglen commanded Rose.
Maddie shifted her gaze behind Lord Ruglen’s bare chest, and nodded the request into Rose’s wide and querying eyes.
The door closed softly, and Maddie returned her gaze to Lord Ruglen’s steady own. She pulled the sheet consciously tighter about her naked body.
“Those bruises on your neck did not come from a mouse,” Lord Ruglen stated quietly.
“No,” Maddie said, with a slow shake of her head. “I believe it was a rat, my lord.”
“You jest, at a time such as this?”
“And what would you have me do, my lord? Turn to you for comfort, and find none?” She hung her head, hiding the tears falling down her face.
“What happened?”
A low sound echoed through the room and it took her a few moments to realise she was laughing.
“Would you like details, my lord? Why not wait a few hours. I am sure your choice of lover will be good enough to supply you with every little detail.” Her voice hardened. “Was I the spoils of another wager, my lord? Is that why you showed me such consideration tonight? Danced with me. Make me believe you…” She faltered, then taking a deep breath addressed him once more: “You do not want me, I understand that, but should I decide to take a lover allow me the courtesy of choosing him myself.”
Lord Ruglen’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You can not think me capable of such depravity.”
“I can, and I do.”
“Why? Because you are determined to believe the worse of me?”
“As you do of me?” Maddie parried coldly. “To you I am nothing but a wager already won, but I feel, my lord, even if you do not. I hurt-”
“Did he…hurt you?” Her eyes flew to the brightness of his.
“What?”
“Did he hurt you?”
Maddie turned away from him. Her shoulders shook lightly as she began to cry. She felt him even before she heard him step towards her. His warmth engulfed her, and this time she couldn’t resist, she leaned back into his naked arms.
“You hurt me,” she whispered.

“I know.”

ORDER NOW FROM- http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/eBook53554.htm

ORDER NOW FROM- http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=645

A Thought Shared

2007-11-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

Ripples in the Water is one of those books where the inspiration came from absolutely nowhere. I had just given birth to my first child and was on maternity leave-I used to work at the Westeinde Ziekenhuis, a hospital in the Hague, as a therapy radiographer.
On a night I suddenly awoke, just like that. No reason, or rhyme, with three names circling with absolute clarity in my head: Claerdal, Celeste and Guy Fawkes. I was also quite aware, at that moment, that the object of the exercise would be to link them somehow; the result being my debut novel, Ripples in the Water.
I have an insatiable love of history, and it really doesn’t matter who’s history, but what I strive to find is the story running parallel to whatever historical event I choose to write about. History will never change, but there will always be someone else’s truth, and that is what I wish to convey.
Ripples in the Water is an historical piece, but it’s also full of intrigue, suspense and explores the influence of coincidence. Here are what two reviewers had to say about Ripples in the Water:

‘This novel, written by Ms. Michelle Chambers, has very detailed, interesting scenarios which are spell-binding. The more I read, the more (and faster) I wanted to read...’ Brenda Talley, The Romance Studio

‘Michelle Chambers cast well-rounded characters that weave an intriguing tale...’ Linda L., Fallen Angel Reviews

The power of coincidence, the Yin and Yang of life, the Law of Attraction, these are all premises upon which I base my novels, and combined with the somewhat darker side of human nature I aim to give the reader a more in-depth, intense look at love. I dissect love into the spectrum I believe it is. As white light is a spectrum of colour, I believe love to be a spectrum of emotion. Sometimes ugly, sometimes beautiful, but love nonetheless.
I recently entered, and won, a short-story competition organised by my publishers, The Wild Rose Press. The story is called Fairytale Bride. A tale of time-travel and Regency England, yet exploring the premise of the Law of Attraction. As yet, its still in the editing stage, as is my contemporary novel, Blood of His Fathers, but I hope to have release dates for both books pretty soon.
We all have a history, and history plays an important role in my stories. My characters have history. Their opinions, behaviour, thoughts, sometimes in the extreme, are influenced, as we are, by history- whether that be race, religion, etc- and/or experience, though I do like happy endings. In my books, at least, I can control that.
I’ve lived in Holland, now, for more than fifteen years and still love it. I came initially from England for a year, but life had other plans for me, and up until now I’m quite content with the direction its taken. Two beautiful, healthy children, and a wonderful, understanding man. Well, he had to be when I said I wanted to write. I took up the challenge five years ago and its wonderful to finally see the fruits of my labour, and love.

A huge thank you to The Wild Rose Press for making my dreams come true.

Michelle

Finally won something

2007-11-01T10:13:00.001-07:00

Fairytale Bride has won the Garden Gate contest. Finally, I've won something.

Treacle Toffee and Ripples in the Water

2007-10-30T01:32:00.000-07:00

November 5th fast approaches, and in England its a date greatly remembered with fireworks, treacle toffee and the burning of effigies depicting Guy Fawkes, the most noted terrorist in English history, who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament back in 1604. The infamous Gunpowder Plot.

Ripples in the Water is a story that takes the reader back in time to the Protestant court of King James, to the ambitious courtiers vying for the king's favour, to the daughter of a Catholic traitor condemned to die for her father's part in the Gunpowder Plot.

So, I say- cuddle up to the fire with a bag of treacle toffee this November 5th and enjoy a winter's tale: Ripples in the Water

Michelle Chambers

Available from: http://www.amazon.com/
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/

A winter's tale

2007-09-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Of gunpowder, treason and plot
Of intrigue and romance and ambition
At King James' court

And Guy Fawkes and Catesby and others
For theirs is a tale of woe
Captured in Ripples in the Water
A twist in a tale of old

Michelle Chambers- Ripples in the Water
Available from: http://www.thewildrosepress.com
http://www.amazon.com

Great Reviews

2007-09-01T12:24:00.001-07:00

Ripples in the Water available NOW!

Read what they're saying about it... 4.5 Hearts from The Romance Studio; 5 Angels from Fallen Angel Reviews.

Thank you Brenda Talley (TRS). Thankyou Linda L. (FAR)

http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/rippleschambers.htm

http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/2007/August/LindaL-RipplesInTheWater.htm

YouTube

2007-08-29T03:56:00.000-07:00

See me on YouTube...LOL

Michelle Chambers- Ripples in the Water

http://www.youtube.com/user/miwidenhaag

Local girl; Local news

2007-08-29T03:27:00.000-07:00

Thrilled!

Michelle Chambers- Ripples in the Water

Read an excerpt from Ripples in the Water:

The coach door having been thrown open now rattled hard in the wind. Its passenger, undaunted by the thought of any discomfort, battled the blustery weather.
“Davy, are you all right? What happened?” he called above the shriek of the storm.
“I'm fine, my lord,” Davy shot back. “Something spooked the horses.”
“What was it?”
“Some dead animal or other I think. It's still there in the middle of the carriageway.” He nodded towards the sprawled, black, mass.
Seizing the lighted wick the Earl of Hawkridge edged towards the shapeless form. “Be careful, my lord,” Davy yelled. He tightened his grip on Mistral’s reins.
The light parted the darkness, and revealed the still figure of a woman lying on the highway. Lord Hawkridge hastened forward, and dropped to his knees. Anxiously he felt for signs of life. A low moan escaped her lips. She was alive. Though barely, he thought. Oblivious to the rain lashing down on him he removed his cloak, and draped it over the faintly trembling body. She moaned again, and in one swift movement he‘d scooped her into his arms, and brushed past Davy’s stunned countenance.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Davy exclaimed. “It's a woman,” he said, concluding the obvious. “What’s she doing out here, in the middle of nowhere, and at this ungodly hour?” He hastened after Lord Hawkridge.
Lord Hawkridge placed the woman in the warmth of his carriage and stared down at the bruised face partially covered by dark tendrils of her hair. She was so slight he marvelled how she’d thus far survived the bitter weather.
“I do not know, Davy,” he said giving answer, though more to himself than his coachman. His hand instinctively recoiled from the woman’s hair as she moaned again, and turned her amber coloured gaze unexpectedly onto his. Something stirred deep within him. A feeling he’d long forgotten; a feeling he’d not experienced with anyone since Anne-Marie. Anne-Marie. Lord Hawkridge briefly closed his eyes. How long had it been, since her death?
Fear widened the woman’s eyes still further as recognition seemed to dawn in their depths. “No,” she screamed. “No.” She clawed frantically at the face above hers, her nails leaving their mark. Lunging past Lord Hawkridge she reached for the coach door eliciting an oath from him in his surprise.
“You little fool,” he ground out, and pulled her roughly back to him. “Would you kill yourself?” She struggled feverishly in his arms.
“Let me go,” she cried.
“Be still.” His terse command cut through her bewildered brain, shocking her into silence. Her defiance short-lived she sank wearily against his chest the tiniest of sobs rising in her throat.
“Let me be,” she pleaded softly. “Please…let me be.”

Review for Ripples in the Water

2007-07-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

To be honest I'd not expected such a great review for Ripples in the Water. I guess, as many authors, I wasn't entirely satisfied with my story and felt it could have been better- were my characters complete, was the plot good enough, did I catch all the typos.

But I needn't have worried, and I heartily thank Brenda Talley at The Romance Studio for her fantastic review.

...the sensual scenes were dynamic, but infrequent...LOL

Michelle Chambers

To read the full review: www.theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/rippleschambers.htm

PROMO- Ripples in the Water

2007-06-22T07:28:00.000-07:00

1609. Three years after seven Catholic conspirators are executed alongside Guy Fawkes for their part in the infamous Gunpowder plot...

Celeste Darwent trudges the lonely, barren wilds of Hawkridge. Sold to the Captain of the Black Moth for a princely sum she escapes this fate unaware her life is forever destined to be a part of his no matter where she should run, or how far, for she no longer has memory of their past, or the son she's borne, but for whom her body no longer yearns...

until she reaches Teigne Hall, and is confronted with a man bearing a most remarkable resemblance to the Captain of the Black Moth.

Darby Manderville, Earl of Hawkridge, had thought to rescue an unfortunate beggar from certain death on the moor, but discovery of a long lost family heirloom sewn within the hem of her dress revises that opinion. Resentment, prejudice and contempt soon take the place of his compassion...

The daughter of a traitor, Celeste Darwent comes to Teigne Hall a haunted woman, yet, her presence ultimately shatters Darby's life as, unwittingly, she unlocks a secret best left alone. A secret whose affect, like Ripples in the Water, influence both their lives.Yet, she, too, carries a secret; one that, should it be discovered, would see her hung...

Lord Hawkridge will, in the end, need choose between his love for Celeste, and his duty to his king; and determine if he could truly be father to his brother's child.

Read an excerpt: You, who must despise me my contempt

Her fingers tightened about the door handle.
"It would be wrong of me now to concern you further with my affairs," she said evenly, "you, who must despise me my contempt."
"I do not despise you," Darby replied levelly.
"Your manner suggests otherwise." She heard his tread draw near, and steeled herself against the intensity that was him.
"To retain my sanity," he said his voice taut, "I cannot allow myself to think about something I cannot have."
The reflection in his voice pierced deep into her heart, and a small cry bubbled forth from her lips. Her heart had been closed to him, yet he'd found a way to unlock it, throwing her emotions once more into confusion. Why must he tell her this? She could feel his warmth around her drawing her to him like a blanket. Their blanket.
Mustering her strength she stepped back into the room, and distanced herself from him. "It didn't occur to me that you were sincere in your feelings for me," she said her voice scarcely above a whisper.
"I gave you no reason to believe it," Darby admitted. He moved again towards her, but she stared ahead of her, her manner determined. She didn't wish to be reminded of a time she could never know again.
"You owed me no consideration, my lord," she replied, "nor did I expect it. We shared a strong attraction for each other, and I, too, am guilty of what happened between us."
"Guilt? Is that why you refuse me? Is that why you run from me?" His breath stirred her hair. Celeste closed her eyes, and clasped her hands tightly against her stomach. The simplicity of his questions conveyed the anguish from which they'd been expressed. She turned slowly to face him. His uttered words still lingering in the air, his vulnerability laid rather unexpectedly bare to her.
Digital release- April 27th, 2007
Available in PRINT- June 22nd, 2007
http://www.thewildrosepress.com

Michelle Chambers
www.miwi-carpediem.blogspot.com

Don't Forget...

2007-05-24T00:57:00.001-07:00

For a classical, emotional, romantic read download Ripples in the Water- released April 2007

http://www.fictionwise.com

http://www.thewildrosepress.com

Or buy the book: release date June 22nd 2007- ISBN 1-60154-053-1
Michelle

(see blog April 19 for excerpt)

Tagged!

2007-05-22T00:42:00.000-07:00

I've been tagged by Clover Autrey to tell you 8 things about me you never knew before. So, here goes:

1. My middle name is Patrice.

2. I'm extremely allergic to strawberries, apples, plums and other soft fruit- so I could be murdered with fruit, and my death would still be attributed to natural causes! (Ha-Ha!)

3. I've a warped sense of humour (- see nr.2)

4. I'm afraid of heights.

5. October 2000, I stood at the top of the World Trade Centre in NY with my hubby and innocently commented, as I watched helicopters circle below us: what if one of those should crash into the building... a year later... Go figure.

6. I've a black belt in taekwon-do (2nd Dan)

7. I need my space. Can't have too many people around me, all the time.

8. I grew up in Bury, Lancashire, the setting of the Wild Rose Press' Historical Contest.

In case I tag you, here are the rules:
1) Each player starts with 8 random facts or habits about themselves.
2) People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their 8 things with a copy of these rules.
3) At the end of your blog you need to choose 8 people to get tagged and list their names.
4) Don't forget to leave them a note saying they've been tagged.

Tag you're it!

I tag Wild Rose Press Authors: Kathleen M. Basi, Teresa Reasor, Pamella Roller, Diana Bold, Leslie Dicken, tarah Scott, Catherine Cairns, Janet Halpin- my apologies if you've already been tagged.

IDEAL

2007-04-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

Today, I decided to develop a slogan for myself, and came up with IDEAL- an acronym describing both my work and the cover art of my books (current and future).

IntenseDramaticEmotionalAweinspiringLucent

Anyway, that was today. Tomorrow is another ideal day.

Michelle

Release of Ripples in the Water, April 27th 2007

2007-04-19T09:56:00.000-07:00

It is 1609, and Celeste Darwent trudges the lonely, barren wilds of Hawkridge. Sold to the Captain of the Black Moth for a princely sum Celeste escapes her fate unaware her life is forever destined to be a part of his no matter where she should run, or how far for she no longer has memory of their past, or the son she's borne, but for whom her body no longer yearns...

Until she reaches Teigne Hall, and is confronted with a man bearing a most remarkable resemblance to the Captain of the Black Moth.

To his mind Darby Manderville, Earl of Hawkridge, has rescued an unfortunate beggar from certain death on the moor, but when he discovers a lost family heirloom sewn within the hem of her dress resentment, prejudice and contempt soon take the place of his compassion.

Celeste Darwent comes to Teigne Hall a haunted woman; a woman without a past, yet her presence will shatter Darby's life as, unwittingly, she unlocks a secret best left alone. A secret that, like Ripples in the Water, reverberates through their lives. Yet, Celeste, too, carries a secret; one that, should it be discovered, would see her hung...

Darby will, in the end, need choose between his love for Celeste, and his duty to his king; and determine if could truly be father to his brother's child.

Read an excerpt:

Her fingers tightened about the door handle.
“It would be wrong of me now to concern you further with my affairs,” she said evenly, “you, who must despise me my contempt.”
“I do not despise you,” Darby replied levelly.
“Your manner suggests otherwise.” She heard his tread draw near, and steeled herself against the intensity that was him.
“To retain my sanity,” he said his voice taut, “I cannot allow myself to think about something I cannot have.”
The reflection in his voice pierced deep into her heart, and a small cry bubbled forth from her lips. Her heart had been closed to him, yet he’d found a way to unlock it, throwing her emotions once more into confusion. Why must he tell her this? She could feel his warmth around her drawing her to him like a blanket. Their blanket
Mustering her strength she stepped back into the room, and distanced herself from him. “It didn’t occur to me that you were sincere in your feelings for me,” she said her voice scarcely above a whisper.
“I gave you no reason to believe it,” Darby admitted. He moved again towards her, but she stared ahead of her, her manner determined. She didn’t wish to be reminded of a time she could never know again.
“You owed me no consideration, my lord,” she replied, “nor did I expect it. We shared a strong attraction for each other, and I, too, am guilty of what happened between us.”
“Guilt? Is that why you refuse me? Is that why you run from me?” His breath stirred her hair. Celeste closed her eyes, and clasped her hands tightly against her stomach. The simplicity of his questions conveyed the anguish from which they’d been expressed. She turned slowly to face him. His uttered words still lingering in the air, his vulnerability laid rather unexpectedly bare to her.

Digital release- April 27th, 2007
Print release- June 22nd, 2007

Yours sincerely, Most Scared

2007-04-17T05:42:00.000-07:00

I'm scared. Really. My first book is due to be released by the Wild Rose Press, and I'm petrified. Doubts and uncertainties plague my mind, and I feel I want to write the whole darn story again...

But... It's a good story. I love Ripples in the Water- it's the type of story I like to read myself, and I did write it for me. Now, I'm sharing it with others perhaps more discerning than myself, who will ultimately rip it apart and dissect the contents. Ouch! Am I ready to be critiqued? I have to be because I'm a writer- a good writer- and it's all part and parcel of being a writer.

It's time to stand up, and be judged by the seasoned readers of romance, and take any and all commentary on the chin. The question is: Will I remain standing?

Comeback for the release date of Ripples in the Water.

A day is a day, is a day, is a day...

2007-04-08T09:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not one for holidays- to me, a day is a day, is a day, is a day, despite any label attached to it. Take today for example: Easter. Though not overly religious I'm not ignorant of its signifcance to those who are, and its pertinence. Yet, I see it as merely another day. I go through life enjoying it as much as the next person but without the need to celebrate stipulated dates because it's generally expected that I do. And as much as I understand the significance, and pertinence of said holidays I remain untouched by them. Deeply, sincerely, emotionally untouched. I am numb to every aspect of celebration, but I am Not a dull person. Nor am I unintelligent, nor am I shallow. And no, I don't need a shrink.

I enjoy every day of my life with those I love; just don't try to sell me one day above another in its importance. Every day is important, and I will enjoy that day on a small scale, whether or not many try to persuade, or dictate, how I spend that day.

You can still be lonely at a party.

Wow!

2007-04-04T04:18:00.000-07:00

I can't write... well, obviously I can, but I mean I can't concentrate. Not long enough anyway to put two coherent words together let alone an entire sentence. And the reason? The cover design for Ripples in the Water.

I received it last night, and I can't take my eyes of it. It's brilliant, fantastic, great, wonderful- and all the other superlatives you can think of to describe a beautiful piece of art. I'm bias. Of course. My first cover design for my first novel.

Yet, what touches me is the artist's perception of my work. She's translated my story- its intensity, emotion and feeling- in her use of colour; and the perfect setting. My heroine would feel right at home in this setting. Perfect.

I look at this cover design with an immense feeling of pride and gratitude, and know it reflects the depth and sincerity of my work. I know you can't judge a book by its cover, but in this instance the combination is dynamic. A good cover, and a damn good read.

Don't believe me? Log on again for the release date, and see (read) for yourself.

I really ought to go now, and write, and I will- just not yet. Let me savour this moment... my first cover design for my first book. WOW!

Now, for the next step

2007-03-14T02:42:00.000-07:00

What a feeling to know you've completed a job well done. Apart from some technical layouts my manuscript is practically ready to be submitted to the printers. What a feeling.

My editor at The Wild Rose Press, Katherine, really managed to get me to dig deep and revise my story better than I could have done without her guidelines, and at my first attempt, too. I looked in the mirror last night and thought: Yes. I can do this.

Back to work

2007-03-02T10:57:00.000-08:00

I didn't realise how much I needed my break until I got back today from the countryside. It was great. No computer, no telephone, no disturbance. Pure pleasure with my children, and my partner. Now it's back to work if I'm to realise my ambitions of becoming a successful writer. At least the hard work is already done. The novel is written. All I need do is check, edit, revise and rewrite 300 pages. No problem. It's about a month's work, and it'll keep my mind busy while I wait for the verdict on my first novel that's still being dissected by my editor. I'm nervous. Revisions aren't easy and I'm scared she's going to want the novel revised again- or is it a case of me not being satisfied with my own work? I don't know. Anyway, I've a backup. The second book which I'll be submitting to the Crimson line at The Wild Rose Press at the end of the month. Wish me luck- on both accounts.

But not to leave my editor out of the picture I'm completing a second story for the English Tea Rose line as we speak- er, chat.

See ya!

Time for a break

2007-02-23T09:21:00.001-08:00

It has taken me the most part of a month to revise, edit, change and tweak my manuscript. Not forgetting making time for my children: mum; where is...? can I...? how long...? will you...?- you get the picture. When you're busy suddenly everyone needs you- including husbands, wives and partners. The selfish gene raised its ugly head, including mine, but hey, we survived this adjustment in our lives. It can only get better, right?

Ripples in the Water is my first novel, and of course I want to tweak and change and edit and revise until the story is the best it can be- my editor saw its potential, and I guess I'm afraid to let her down. But now I think it's time for a break. A whole month of snapping at the kids and being irritable with my partner has come to an end, and I can relax. We can all relax. So I'm off to enjoy this weekend with my partner, and the kids are off to their grandparents. I'm back on track!

See ya!

Thanks for the invite

2007-01-18T00:57:00.000-08:00

I got a letter inviting me to go out for a meal with my ex-colleagues. Nothing wrong in that, I hear you say. Yet, still it was a surprise because I was never popular with my ex-colleagues. I was never in with the 'in crowd' or ever a part of any particular social cloister. I was a loner. My choice and theirs. We never mingled, so to receive an invitation out of the blue I have to ask myself, why?
I'd thought I was rid of them that I could finally live my life without feeling I owed an explanation for my choices or my beliefs. They suffocated me, and now I breathe. But, do my ex-colleagues interest me enough to seek their company? I don't think so. To accept this invitation for the one or two I would like to see and be saddled with the ten or more I utterly could do without is no longer a compulsion. I'm no longer that person. I am able to say no, and it feels great.
Still, I could go and wax lyrical about my upcoming book release. Nah! Even that incentive isn't enough to get me in the same room as my ex-colleagues. I no longer work with them, I don't care for quite a few and the rest I find uninspiring and dull. So, thanks for the invite, but no thanks!

Taekwon-Do

2007-01-13T09:29:00.000-08:00

Today was my first taekwon-do lesson after the holidays. Great! It was fantastic to punch, kick and sweat out all the frustrations, stress and flu symptoms picked up over the last few weeks. My joints ache but my mind is clear. Now is the time to write.

Read the question!

2007-01-11T23:59:00.000-08:00

How many times have I told my children to always be sure to read questions carefully? One careless mistake, a misread word or two could completely alter the context and meaning of said question. I really should take my own advice.
I'm fortunate to have found a publisher for my novel and always wanting to make a good impression I diligently fill out their forms only to be requested to correct one part. I'd messed up! What a prize idiot!
Right now I need to go look up the meaning of excerpt and blurb- and learn the difference! Good impression, huh? Not!!!!

(Oh, allright then)- The Comedy

2007-01-10T04:36:00.000-08:00

What a stupid and neurotic thing to do! Literally climbing the wall to escape him. Him was a young man I knew at college and worshipped from afar. He, tall, gorgeous in all the right places, intelligent, popular. Me, short, pleasantly plump in all the wrong places, intelligent, nerd. It would have never worked. I knew that, not that I truly wanted it to but I had to tell my friends, didn’t I? I forgot friends, for all their best intentions, find it enormously difficult to keep, what they referred to as, ‘juicy gossip’, to themselves. It defied all the scientific realms of will power and the unspoken bond of trust and loyalty.
Anyway they told him and I withered. It was as if his very knowing he had an admirer in me was enough to devoid me of my wits. And then having the entire college discover the object of my affection, my senses quickly followed.
My friends had no idea what to make of me. One minute we were talking quite amicably, comfortable in the knowledge my idol was nowhere in sight, when before they realised it I was attempting to scale the wall next to us. The windows above led to the library. The sight must have been comical certainly when I hastily said to the bemused faces gazing at me,
‘I wonder if that book’s in.’ But the reason for my apparent panic became obvious as tall, gorgeous in all the right places, intelligent and popular walked-by. He barely looked at me, gave me no acknowledgement. Even at the pinnacle of my humiliation I couldn’t grab his attention! How demoralising!
That my friends didn’t desert me at that moment is a miracle but I did notice later on I was seemingly always the last to learn about parties or happening social events. When I recall that moment I can’t help but cringe and be grateful I will never see anyone from college ever again. In fact it was this thought that dragged me through my remaining two years. The embarrassing years.
But now years later, it’s a new me, though it took quite sometime to reach the level of confidence I now have. Now and again it is but pure bravado what I feel but at such times I am reminded I could have been an older version of timid and insecure.

The Tragedy

2007-01-09T14:11:00.000-08:00

The telephone was swirled through the air before being struck with force against John’s head. Had it been a modern telephone constructed from light synthetic materials I’ve no doubt the result would have not been fatal but this telephone was of the generation that were solid, heavy and cumbersome with old-fashioned dials accessible only to finger nails or pencils, you know, the sort of telephones seen in old black and white films from the ‘40’s. As one of the few telephones in the vicinity it was frequently in use, though I can never remember it being anything but polished and pristine sitting high on a table in the living room like a statue on its pedestal. Except, of course, when it was used to bludgeon John to death. The sound it made as it connected to bone has never left me, or the horror on my grandmother’s face as realisation dawned through her drunken stupor at what she had done. They were both drunk. My grandmother and John. Fights were not uncommon. And this, quite simply, was a fight which ended in a tragedy.
But a tragedy for whom? John? Undoubtedly. A violent death, I suppose, can’t be considered anything other than tragic. Yet I have neither grieved his, nor considered it tragic. That’s because John’s death never really distressed me. I mean nothing emotional. No tears, no anger, no dramatic cry of ‘Why? Why? Why?’ Not then, not now. But how can I remain so unemotional knowing what I know? From the perception of a seven-year-old child watching her grandmother strike a fatal blow a certain numbness is expected, but I am no longer a child. I am an adult, forty something- old, and my numbness to those events has changed to impassiveness. I am older, wiser, capable of objective thought yet why can’t I pinpoint the emotion that would help me to close this chapter in my life.
Perhaps the tragedy is mine. Witnessing death at an early age and being left with its legacy of images and memories that demand a reaction I cannot give. Memories that in the course of time have not faded to nothing but remain persistent and haunting as the images in the darkness, that despite my best intentions, do succeed in making me wince.
I have feelings after all, even if it is of guilt.

Explains why I don't do comedy, huh?