Summer’s Growth by Tina Gayle Ghost #Bookhugs

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Please welcome Tina Gayle, author of Summer’s Growth and founder of our Ghost #Bookhugs exchange.

Tina’s inspiration – Write like only you will read it; if you cry, laugh or enjoy it, it’ll be your secret passion until you introduce it to the world. (Just love what you do no matter what it is.)

Summers Growth

Blurb for Summer’s Growth:

In the spirit-haunted Winston estate in Ohio, rooted in time and occupied by the lingering ghosts of a great family, the torch is about to pass…

Mattie Winston, sober, sensible, and steady, has served as Keeper to the family for decades. Amber Harrison, hovering on the edge of flunking out of college, unsure what she wants out of life, has barely even heard of the Winston estate. The family, however, has decided that it’s time for the changing of the guard. These two exceptional women soon find themselves dealing with violence, murder attempts, and old family mysteries while each finding the love of her life. Two romances and a growing friendship, all twined around a brooding family tragedy, make for an outstanding paranormal mystery offering depth and charm beyond the commonplace. The growing love of Amber and Carter and of Mattie and Quincy offer readers a tender and engaging first novel in a winning new paranormal series.

Excerpt:

Stifling humidity greeted her when she opened the door to the main section of the basement. She eyed the man seated behind a long oak table. The air conditioner hummed. The soothing whine didn’t calm her fears or cool the subterranean room.

Dressed in an eighteenth century colonial suit and stuck at the perpetual age of thirty, Jonathan resembled George Washington ready to command his troops. His eagle-eye glare nailed her.

A drop of sweat trickled down her back. Apprehension raised goose bumps. She shivered.

“I press earnestly for you to take a seat, Mattie, so we can start.” In a regal colonial voice, Jonathan’s words thundered off the walls.

Mattie walked to the end of the table and sat across from him. Dread threatened like a storm on the horizon. She surveyed both sides of the table. None of the other council members were in attendance.

Mattie wiped her sweaty palms along the length of her thighs. What did he want? Jonathan didn’t usually hold a one-on-one meeting in this setting. Normally, they met in her office upstairs.

The muscles in her stomach jerked.

“In a concise statement of the facts as I see them,” Jonathan spoke without preamble. “We have found your replacement, and we need to address the issue of your future.”

Her fears were relieved as to the topic of today’s meeting. She decided to address a number of other issues that should be discussed before her future. “Shouldn’t we wait until Amber Harrison accepts the job?”

“No.”

Startled, Mattie blinked. “Why?”

“Because no matter the outcome, you will still be replaced,” Jonathan declared.

“Yes, but what if Amber doesn’t work out?” For days, she’d speculated on how to approach this subject. “My nephew, Josh Clarkston is a lawyer. He’d make an excellent keeper.”

“No,” Jonathan’s rough voice commanded. “The wisest council will not be misled into offering such an important post to such an unworthy candidate. His character lacks the necessary virtues to accomplish the tasks we require of our keeper.

“As for your sister, Cynthia Clarkston, she never speaks of us without evidence of malice. We find no cause to reward her for her gum and insolence.” The rigid set of Jonathan’s jaw indicated he refused to budge on the matter. “Like a Redcoat, she only wants what she can get from us. Her son has grown into a bad egg.”

“But…” Her stomach grumbled, mirroring her distress.

“Mattie.” His tone lower, he shook his head. “Many hours have been spent debating the matter. You’ve been a loyal subject since the age of fifteen, and you’ve paid your dues to your family. We hornswoggled you out of your youth. It’s time for you to relinquish control.” An indulging note bled through his words. “No one will ever be good enough to replace you.”

Read the 1st Chapter of Summer’s Growth at www.tinagayle.net/sgchapter.html.

Buy Links – Amazon Smashwords B&N Apple Itunes Kobo 

Tina GayleBio:

Tina Gayle grew up a dreamer and loved to escape into the world of books. After a number of different jobs, she decided to try her hand at writing. Her romantic novels touch the heart and explore the heartaches of falling in love and being a woman.

Married thirty years, she and her husband love to travel and play golf. If you’d like to read the 1st chapter of her books visit her website.

Find Tina Gayle everywhere

Home – www.tinagayle.net
Blog – www.tinagayle.blogspot.com
Twitter – https://twitter.com/#!/AuthorTinaGayle
Goodread – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1641826.Tina_Gayle
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/tina.gayle
Google + – https://plus.google.com
Linkedin – http://www.linkedin.com/pub/tina-gayle/11/689/759

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Long Time Walk on Water by @JoanBSimon #RockingSummerRomance #4FunFacts

Summer

Author Joan Barbara Simon is here today with 4 Fun Facts and an excerpt from her family saga, Long Time Walk on Water.

Long Time Walk on WaterSummary:

Emily Thompson, Rose to her friends, emigrates to the motherland, England, in search of a better life. It will be hard work for the young mother in this rich man’s country; above all she must also come to terms with this unknown phenomenon; di Hinglish dem.

James Dunbar. Jack is what he answers to. Picking his way through the mucky incidents of life, he consoles himself that things will get better.

They happen to meet at a bus-stop, Emily and Jack.

A tale of how the humble live whilst waiting for their dreams to come true.

Sample:

The door slammed after a quick “Thank you!”, after the taxi-driver had been paid and had winked at her as he drove off, wheeling his vehicle round in a seamless U-turn further down the road.

So, this was Beswick Road. An infantry of redbrick and glass, shoulder to shoulder. Not many people on the street. Not like back home. Pale, lonely-looking, dreary herds had wandered, morosely, past her cab window as cab-man insisted through the London streets to her new home, Hinglan, where the sun seemed to have changed its mind. Rose wondered how on earth it might have come about that such a cold, miserable place be praised melodiously in parishes far and wide for its green and pleasant lands. It began drizzling. Again. Light flakes of water you don’t even notice at first, playing with you, meaning no real harm, but Rose had had her hair done especially, plus her clothes were new, so she picked up her suitcase, pushed open the garden gate and mounted the steps to the front door. A three-storey house with further rooms, it seemed, in the basement.

“Lord have mercy! Dem live undergrown like some sort of animal!”

She pushed the bell marked Brown. It screeched, alarmed, as though Rose had unexpectedly, maliciously, dug her fingernails into its side. No-one came at once.

“If yu tink me ringing dat bell one more time!” she cursed through her bottom lip, taking a step back to crane her neck up at the house. Her new home. She wondered how long for. Another step back and she caught a young black girl sweep the curtains back from a ground floor window, report over her shoulder what she saw, then disappear before she had had the time to catch Rose smooth her skirt out and wait at the bottom of the stairs.

“Juss hopen dat blaasted door before me drench, yaa,” and whilst the cussing came naturally, she had to will her toes down hard against the sole of her shoe to stop her right foot from tapping impatiently that way. Inside the house a door opened. Closed. A key laboured in the lock to keep whatever out of sight. The floorboards creaked all the way to the front door, which inched open just enough to reveal half of a slender young West Indian girl.

“Yes?”

‘Beautifully written. Joan Barbara Simon is a wordsmith par excellence.’ (The Sunday Gleaner)

If you, too, enjoyed reading this, here’s where you can read more:

Waterstones, Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon France Amazon Germany, and Barnes & Noble.

Joan Barbara Simon

Dr. Joan Barbara Simon divides her time between researching children’s literacy development and writing fiction. Having obtained her first Ph.D. in educational studies, she’s dared to go for her ultimate challenge: a Ph.D. in Creative Writing. Of herself, she says: ‘I’ve made it my mission to look more closely at undefined spaces as the best way to resist the temptation and comfort of easy answers. I’m interested in a broad range of language issues. Currently wrapping my brain around the political properties of words such as polysemic, liminal entities and the nature of their common borders with the visual arts and gendered realities. That said, I’m a nice girl, so talk to me.’

4 Fun Facts… about the author:

1. I get my business-related work done more efficiently when I’m stripped down to my underwear.

2. My marriage was annulled by the Catholic church. I find that funny. Not God giveth and God taketh away, but those who claim to act in his name.

3. Tried explaining the idea behind [email protected] to a man the once. The idea of intellectual erotica left him baffled. I tried to elaborate but could do nothing to dispel his bewilderment. Exasperated, I declared: ‘High-brow rumpy-dumpy’.

He got it. And I got a new reader.

4. My daughters hate it when I wear Chanel N.5. They call it ‘jus de mamie’ (granny juice). My children grew up in France, where any old woman who has two centimes to rub together will have a bottle of Chanel N.5 on her dresser. I’m too young, my girls insist, to smell like they do!

Find Joan online at:

Website http://joan-barbara-simon.com/joan_barbara_simon/home.html

Blog: http://joan-barbara-simon.com/joan_barbara_simon/Blog/Blog.html

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Joan-Barbara-Simon-Author/132830536893341

Twitter @JoanBSimon https://twitter.com/JoanBSimon

LinkedIn http://www.linkedin.com/pub/joan-barbara-simon/34/83b/95

Joan, this book sounds marvelous, and I love the Chanel No. 5 story. I had a friend once whose grandson objected when he learned she used Oil of Olay, which he called Oil of Old Lady. Kids are the same everywhere.

Leave a comment or subscribe to the blog to be entered in my monthly drawing for a trade paperback copy of my erotic science fiction collection Alliance: Stellar Romance.

Linda / Lyndi