This Week's Special Guest - Author Barbara Clark

This week's special guest at the Tiki Hut is author Barbara Clark. Barbara stops by this week to talk about her paranormal romance series and to celebrate her 80th birthday with us!

"All dreams lie beyond defeat." That quote has inspired Barbara Clark to keep writing and creating new stories set in a variety of locations from California to a glittering penthouse in New York City, a working cattle rance in Arizona, the Sahara Desert, and the heat and danger of a Brazilian Rain Forest.

Writing as April Reid, her erotic romances plunge into fantasy worlds where dragons speak and magic rules. Her readers have come to expect deep emotions, simple joys, and heart-stopping peril in her award-winning books.

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You know how—when you’re a child—special days seem to creep up too slowly? Then once you’re an adult, time slips by faster than a three-year-old playing, “You can’t catch me.”

Today I’m in a, “Where did the time go?” mode. Yep, I’m 80 years old today, on Halloween 2012.

I have to confess, until August of this year I had really begun to feel the growing years. I was already in my late 70s. I’d had a heart attack followed by a quadruple heart bypass in 2005. My knees have very little cartilage left in them with a few bone-on-bone places. And just to make life interesting, I’d suffered a mild stroke in late 2010, which affected my typing and my balance enough so I needed a cane when I was away from the house.

 

It had taken months to retrain my fingers and brain so they worked together well enough to start writing again. I finally sent the manuscript for a long novella to my publisher and it came out in early 2011. 

While I’ve gone to cardiac rehab for years; walk on the treadmill for 20 minutes, lift weights, etc., my balance was still wonky and I had noticed my concentration was not as sharp as it once had been. 

I remembered when I had driven my grandchildren to karate lessons years earlier. I’d waited there and watched them until my daughter came to get them after work. I began to wonder if I dared enroll in karate, but figured it would never happen. 

The last few years, I’d heard good things about American Martial Arts Academy from a friend. She mentioned they took on older students and would moderate lessons to a person’s needs. 

 I walked into the AMAA on August 6, 2012 for my first lesson private, half-hour lesson. My goals were to improve my balance, sharpen my concentration, and earn a yellow belt by my next birthday.  

I have to admit, I was frustrated when I couldn’t immediately do the strikes and blocks correctly. And kicks? No way, considering I’d walked into the academy needing my cane. My teacher patiently helped me build those skills. Instead of kicks, I did stomps. Even then, he had me hold onto a chair to keep my balance. 

Gradually, my muscles and brain began to learn those new moves, and, oh, the sense of accomplishment when they begin to click. By the second session, I found it easier to work barefooted. By the third lesson, I felt confident enough to park my cane in a corner. 

I told friends I was a Granny with a cane and a karate fist.  

Now I’ve had to modify that description. Since the middle of September I haven’t used my cane at all. My concentration is improving, and I received my yellow belt three weeks before my 80^th birthday. 

These days I’m working on the combined movements for the next step—an orange belt. That’s where the nose snapper I mentioned comes in. The strike is really called an ura-uchi (back-hand strike) but it’s a good way to remember it. 

Here’s part of the sequence of moves facing an opponent: Right hand does a straight-fisted strike above the head at an upward 45 degree angle elbow comes in right hand does a back-hand strike over the knee. Note: That’s where your knuckles connect with the opponent’s nose. 

Yes, I’m enjoying the karate lessons. I even signed up for a program they offer called, “The path to black belt.” I told a friend I’d probably be 85 by the time I reach level 1 of black belt. She said, “You’ll be 85 anyway.”  

Tomorrow I’ll tell about A Touch of Fire, Book III in the series.

WIN - Leave a question or comment anytime this week to get your name in the hat for a box full of of items from assorted authors--things Barbara picked up for this purpose at the RWA National conference this summer. Each box includes a tote bag, water bottle, and books. Barbara will also include an autographed copy of one of her books!

This Week's Special Guest Barbara Clark

This week's special guest at the Tiki Hut is author Barbara Clark. Barbara stops by this week to talk about her paranormal romance series and to celebrate her 80th birthday with us!

"All dreams lie beyond defeat." That quote has inspired Barbara Clark to keep writing and creating new stories set in a variety of locations from California to a glittering penthouse in New York City, a working cattle rance in Arizona, the Sahara Desert, and the heat and danger of a Brazilian Rain Forest.

Writing as April Reid, her erotic romances plunge into fantasy worlds where dragons speak and magic rules. Her readers have come to expect deep emotions, simple joys, and heart-stopping peril in her award-winning books.

WEBSITE *** NEWSLETTER *** FACEBOOK *** TWITTER

Today, I'd like to talk about the second book in my Sons of Earth and Wind paranormal romance series, A BREATH OF HEATHER.

 

A BREATH OF HEATHER by Barbara Clark

 

Sonds of Earth and Wind Book II

 

In her second paranormal romance, Barbara Clark tells us more about Heather Carter who was introduced in Book I, TEARS OF THE HAWK .

 

Heather Carter, a gentle psychic with a painful secret, struggles against danger and her attraction to the former covert agent, Quinn Archer.

Quinn, betrayed in the past by a woman with secrets, is stunned by his desire for Heather, a desire he fights. But as he takes on the self-appointed task to protect her, will he learn too late that loving Heather will free him from the chains of the past?

BUY THE BOOK   ***   BUY THE eBOOK   ***   READ THE EXCERPT

The idea for A BREATH OF HEATHER began when my daughter was a substitute teacher at another school in the same district where I was teaching at the time.  

She was in the middle of a lesson when the school Principal rushed into her classroom, said, “Emergency lockdown, lock the door,” and left, closing the door behind her. My daughter locked the door and switched off the lights while two students closed the classroom windows, and the rest of the children dropped to the classroom floor.  

She answered the classroom telephone and learned a carload of gangbangers were driving around the outside perimeter of the school grounds, shouting threats and pointing weapons at children laying flat on the blacktop.  

Her classroom was situated with the back only a few feet from the street. As everyone in the room huddled, in the dark, on the floor, keeping silent so they wouldn’t become targets, they heard the gang members slowly passing the building; even heard them talking. Minutes later the sound of sirens announced the police cars in pursuit.  

I changed the setting to the school where I taught and used that threat as the opening of the story:

~~~

Something’s wrong.  

With a growing sense of urgency, Heather Carter searched for the source of trouble among the hundred and fifty first and second grade students playing in the warm California sunlight. Everywhere she looked she saw only normal activity—the joy and restless energy of children.  

And yet, to her inborn special perceptions, the earth vibrated with a sense of menace. The slight breeze hushed as if holding its breath. In the park beyond the chain link fencing, a flock of crows suddenly took flight, voicing their warning calls as they soared above the eucalyptus and pepper trees.  

Few cars used North Street in the morning, so the midnight-blue van with tinted windows cruising slowly toward the school caught Heather’s attention.  

Probably a parent bringing a child late, was her first thought. But some internal warning shouted danger.  

Instead of pulling into the parking lot, the van stopped in the red zone parallel to the playground. A window on the passenger side slid down and a young Hispanic man with a shaved head pointed a handgun toward the children on the swings. At the same time, the driver stepped outside the van and aimed across the metal roof.  

All sound died.  

“Emergency lock-in,” Heather shouted, motioning for children near the buildings to run for the nearest door.  

Someone yelled, “Vipers!”  

Children screamed and scattered. Some dashed into classrooms. Others ran to the bathrooms or down the open hallways between classroom wings. Heather watched in numbed horror as one boy tripped and two more fell over him. They jumped up and scrambled to safety. A few children raced to Heather sobbing in terror.  

She clutched them tightly for a brief moment, then said, “Quick, get down.”  

Boys and girls farther from the buildings threw themselves flat, face down on the grass or blacktop. Abandoned balls rolled across the Four Square and Handball courts.  

One lone girl stood, a bewildered expression on her face, her blonde hair a bright target.
 

~~~

After Heather pulls Brianna to the ground to protect her, someone else comes to guard the child’s other side: 

A few paragraphs down, we learn about Heather Carter’s paranormal ability to call and manipulate the wind:
 

~~~

Heather knew she had to do something now, and broke her own vow to hide her special gifts.  

Whispering a chant, she sent tendrils of energy fanning out across the nearby park and found a curl of breeze. In a low voice, she called, “From the soil, from the sand, from the windswept sky,” coaxing the energy away from a small updraft, and toward the heat and sand under the swings. It cheerfully picked up speed and swirled between the children on the ground as it gathered a column of brown dust and grit.  

With the leashed power in her control, Heather slid her right hand along the ground, stretched her fingers toward the gunmen, and released the wind. It raced around them, plucked at their hair, tugged their clothes, and blasted sand at their faces.

~~~

 “Where are the police?” Heather asked through trembling lips.  

“Probably on silent running.” Strong fingers clasped her left shoulder.  

She looked across Brianna’s blonde head into clear, winter-gray eyes set in a tanned, harsh face. A jagged scar slashed in a curve from the corner of his right eye up into coal-black hair. He had the aura of a man who’d looked into the depths of hell and survived, stronger than ever.  

Heather licked her dry lips. “Who are you?”  

“I’m Quinn Archer, Brianna’s dad.” He glanced at the precious little girl sheltered between them. “I can’t thank you enough for coming to her rescue.”

~~~

The attraction between Quinn and Heather will grow until a time of great danger when each will willingly put their life on the line for the other.  

This book has been selling in print and ebook since 2002 at: Amber Quill Press     

Come back tomorrow, Wednesday, to learn what a nose snapper is and my venture into Karate—with photos . 

Remember—leave a comment for a chance to win the giveaway. 

Good Luck,

Barbara

WIN - Leave a question or comment anytime this week to get your name in the hat for a box full of of items from assorted authors--things Barbara picked up for this purpose at the RWA National conference this summer. Each box includes a tote bag, water bottle, and books. Barbara will also include an autographed copy of one of her books!

 

This Week's Special Guest Barbara Clark

This week's special guest at the Tiki Hut is author Barbara Clark.  Barbara stops by this week to talk about her paranormal romance series and to celebrate her 80th birthday with us!

"All dreams lie beyond defeat." That quote has inspired Barbara Clark to keep writing and creating new stories set in a variety of locations from California to a glittering penthouse in New York City, a working cattle rance in Arizona, the Sahara Desert, and the heat and danger of a Brazilian Rain Forest.

Writing as April Reid, her erotic romances plunge into fantasy worlds where dragons speak and magic rules. Her readers have come to expect deep emotions, simple joys, and heart-stopping peril in her award-winning books.

WEBSITE   ***   NEWSLETTER   ***   FACEBOOK   ***   TWITTER

I’m pleased to spend this week at the Tiki Hut writing about my contemporary paranormal romance series, Sons of Earth and Wind. You could meet the main characters in these stories on any street and not know they have paranormal abilities. Just remember they’re all human and for each psychic gift there’s a vulnerability.

I’ll start with, TEARS OF THE HAWK; Sons of Earth and Wind, Book I

TEARS OF THE HAWK by Barbara Clark 

Sons of Earth and Wind Book I  

Security specialist, Hawk Adams, will brave any danger to protect a woman, but he'll never trust one. So when he rescues Charity Starr from kidnappers, he's stunned by the tenderness and passion she ignites in him.

Born with psychic gifts, Charity has locked them away in self-protection. Hawk not only opens her paranormal abilities, but also expands them. Because of his unconscious ability, his very presence endangers her life.

But as Hawk takes on the self-appointed task to protect Charity from her ruthless enemies, they grow closer, and Hawk learns he can't protect his wounded heart from her healing love.
 

BUY THE BOOK *** BUY THE eBOOK *** READ THE EXCERPT

Hawk actually began as a secondary character in, A BREATH OF HEATHER. He opened the door of a friend’s house for Heather who was fleeing from some gang bangers. While Heather tried to gather her composure, Karen (the woman who lives there)…

~~~

turned to the tall, stern man who stood to one side of the window, gazing out. “Hawk, what do you see?”  

“Trouble.”  

“How did you know?”  

“Felt it. Saw her face.” His steely gaze shifted to Heather, and she sensed the leashed potency in him, the same power she’d felt in Quinn.

~~
 

With that short part of a scene, Hawk Adams’ personality began to grow in my mind. I knew he ran a security agency; that he, Quinn Archer, and Michael Forest had been warriors and comrades in shadow wars years earlier. And as the relationship grew between Quinn and Heather, Hawk became more important to the plot until he almost took over the story.  

I distinctly recall driving my blue ’91 Pontiac down our street, thinking about Hawk more than Quinn, who’s the hero of his and Heather’s story. Finally, I said, “Okay, Hawk, I’ll give you your own book after I finish this one.” 

Of course, Hawk needed a woman who could match his courage, and bring joy and love to his wounded soul. Enter Charity Starr, astrophysicist, an empath, gentle, brave; the one woman Hawk will learn to trust with his heart and soul. 

Later, I was standing in my classroom one morning before my students arrived, looking across the playground to the park adjoining our school. In my imagination, I saw a man walk across the grass through a low ground fog, and settle under a pine tree.  

That image led to the opening of, “Tears of the Hawk.”

~~~

He’d dreamed again last night. Dreamed of ripping terror, destruction, and death.  

Days and nights of violence years earlier still had the power to shatter Hawk Adams’ peace of mind. Here, half a world away on the coast of Southern California, the spectre of his past had brought him to a park in the first pale light of a new day.
 

~~~

I like to use familiar settings in my books.

My husband and I used to drive south to Laguna Beach to enjoy the scenery and time with each other. Remembering those days, I sent Hawk and Charity to Laguna beach to climb down the cliffs on a path, wade in the ocean by moonlight—and learn more about each other. 

When Charity, an astrophysicist gave a seminar, I set it at Cal Tech where my husband, a graduate from there, and I had attended lectures over the years. 

Hawk, there to protect her, muses…

~~~

Her hair, sable-brown and gleaming like spun silk, was swept into a smooth knot at the nape of her graceful neck. Hawk had a sudden urge to pick her up, carry her home to safety, then pull the pins out of her hair and see it fanned out on his pillow. Heat spread through his body as he fantasized. He’d remove each piece of her clothing, stroking and kissing the treasures hidden beneath the silk and linen.  

Bits of conversation between two men seated nearby caught his attention.  

“Is that broad the lecturer today?”  

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind a private demonstration from her.”  

“Woman with her body should be dancing topless at Bernie’s. What a waste.”  

They snickered.  

Hawk moved deliberately to attract their attention, then speared them with the narrow-eyed look he used on troublemakers.  

They glanced at each other and hastily launched into a discussion of particle physics.

~~~

This book, published in 1999, was my first ebook and my second one in print. It’s still selling in both formats at www.amberquill.com/TearsHawk.html 

 
***

WIN - Leave a question or comment anytime this week to get your name in the hat for a box full of of items from assorted authors--things Barbara picked up for this purpose at the RWA National conference this summer. Each box includes a tote bag, water bottle, and books. Barbara will also include an autographed copy of one of her books! 

Come back tomorrow for inside information about the story behind the second book in this contemporary paranormal romance series, Sons of Earth and Wind.

 

 

This Week's Special Guest Marcia James

This week's special guest blogger at The AuthorIsland Tiki Hut is Marcia James and she stops by to talk about pets.
 

Marcia James writes hot, humorous romances and finaled in eleven Romance Writers of America contests before selling her first comic romantic suspense, AT HER COMMAND. In her eclectic career, she has shot submarine training videos, organized celebrity-filled nonprofit events and had her wedding covered by People Magazine. in addition to writing fiction, Marcia presents author promotion workshops. After years of dealing with such sexy topics as how to safely install traffic lights, she is enjoying "researching" and plotting her novels' steamy love scenes with her husband and hero of many years.  

 

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NO MORE HOMELESS PETS 

            October is a month associated with dramatic fall foliage, Columbus Day sales, and Halloween trick-or-treaters.  But the calendar’s tenth month also calls attention to two important issues: breast cancer awareness and the plight of homeless animals.

           
Smokey, my Chinese crested hairless dog logo, proudly displays his breast cancer ribbon.  Breast cancer has touched many families, including my own.  Close to 200,000 people – men, as well as women – will develop breast cancer this year.  In addition to supporting cancer research, we can all be vigilant for signs of cancer and get our annual mammograms.

 

           
Today’s blog isn’t about breast cancer, however.  I’m blogging about the millions of abandoned animals in the U.S.  October is Adopt-A-Shelter-Dog Month, and Smokey urges everyone who has space in their homes and hearts to consider rescuing a dog or cat from your local shelter.

 

Here's a tongue-in-cheek look at some of the dog breeds available at the nation’s shelters: 

Collie + Lhasa Apso mix = Collapso, a dog that folds up for easy transport

Pointer + Setter mix = Poinsetter, a traditional Christmas pet

Great Pyrenees + Dachshund mix = Pyradachs, a puzzling breed

Pekingese + Lhasa Apso mix = Peekasso, an abstract dog

Labrador Retriever + Curly Coated Retriever mix = Lab Coat Retriever, the choice of research scientists

Newfoundland + Basset Hound mix = Asset Hound, a dog for financial advisors

Bloodhound + Labrador mix = Blabador, a dog that barks incessantly

Malamute + Pointer mix = Moot Point, owned by…oh well, it doesn’t matter anyway

Deerhound + Terriermix = Derriere, a dog that’s true to the end

Bull Terrier + ShihTzu mix = Uh, never mind…. 
 

 

           
Smokey, who was himself a shelter dog, points out that many of the animals who act in television and film came from shelters.  For example, Morris (aka Lucky), the spokescat for 9 Lives cat food — and his stunt doubles — were all shelter cats.

An Internet search reveals quite a few canine actors, who were rescued from shelters, including: 

1. Benji (aka Higgins), the Poodle, schnauzer, cocker spaniel mix star of the Benji movies

2. Old Yeller (aka Spike), the mixed breed whose breakthrough role was the lead in the movie Old Yeller

3. Sandy, the Airedale-Collie mix from Little Orphan Annie

4. Fang, the drooling Neapolitan Mastiff from the Harry Potter movies

5. Bruiser (aka Chico), the Chihuahua and Rufus (aka Chloe) the Bulldog, who star in Broadway’s Legally Blonde

6. Kelly, Chip, Topsy, Stella, Zelda, and Bo, the 6 mixed breeds who played Max in How the Grinch Stole Christmas

7. Lucky, the mixed breed from the Dr. Dolittle movies

8. Happy, the terrier mix on the TV show, 7^th Heaven

9. Papi, the tiny star of Beverly Hills Chihuahua

10. Most of the canine cast of the movie, Hotel For Dogs 

 

 

           
Readers who can’t adopt a shelter pet can still help the animals through donations or by volunteering at the shelters.  I was honored to be one of ten authors who wrote stories for the Berkley benefit anthology, Tails of Love, which donates 100% of the author proceeds to a no-kill animal shelter in Hamilton, OH.  This anthology is the pet project (pun intended) of New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster.  Tails of Love has raised over $10,000 for the shelter so far. 

 

           
All of my romances, including my Christmas novella, HeatingUp the Holidays, features Chinese crested dogs and other four-legged characters – not including shapeshifters!  I enjoy the humor and emotion a canine Cupid can add to a love story. 

           
Would you like to share your favorite pet stories – rescued shelter animals, remembered childhood pets, funny animal anecdotes, etc?  I’ll draw a winner from those who comment on this blog to receive a free download of my first book, At Her Command, a comic romantic suspense featuring Smokey in a key role as an undercover DEA drug-sniffing dog. 

As my Tails of Love co-authors would say, “Go pets!”

Marcia James

www.MarciaJames.net