Cozy Guest Friday: Liz Flaherty + Giveaway

Welcome, Cozies, to our first Cozy Guest Friday of the year! I’m pleased to welcome author Liz Flaherty, whose latest novel, One More Summer, will be released this month from Carina Press….

Grace has taken care of her widowed father her entire adult life and the ornery old goat has finally died. She has no job, no skills and very little money, and has heard her father's prediction that no decent man would ever want her so often she accepts it as fact.

But she does have a big old house on Lawyers Row in Peacock, Tennessee. She opens a rooming house and quickly gathers a motley crew of tenants - Promise, Grace's best friend since kindergarten, who's fighting cancer; Maxie, an aging soap opera actress who hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic; Jonah, a sweet gullible old man with a crush on Maxie.

And Dillon, Grace's brother's best friend, who stood her up on the night of her senior prom and has regretted it ever since. Dillon rents Grace's guest house for the summer and hopes to make up for lost time and past hurts - but first, he'll have to convince Grace that she's worth loving...

Stay tuned for a sneak peak from One More Summer! For now, we go now to our Cozy correspondent, Tink, who is still sharing Captain Jack’s quarters on the Black Pearl somewhere in the Carribbean.... Take it away, Tink….

*a chorus of “Yo Ho Ho, and a Bottle of Rum”*

Tink: Arrr, maties, and hello from the Bermuda Triangle! As you can see by the patch, I have been officially inducted into Captain Jack’s crew. They call me Red-Handed Tink, aka Mrs. Jack Sparrow :)

Liz, it’s good to have you aboard! We’ll put one of the hands to work on getting us a round of drinks. If you were a mixed drink what would you be and why?

Liz: I would be a strawberry frozen margarita. Because (1), I’ve gotten girly in my dotage, (2) I’m as sweet as I can be J and (3) I can kick ass if the occasion calls for it.

Tink: If you were stranded on a desert island and could bring only one of each of the following…what would they be? Person? Song? Book?

Liz: Person would have to be my husband. We’ve been together for two thirds of my life and I don’t want to go to any islands without him, no matter how crazy we might drive each other. The song would have to be “It Is Well With My Soul” because even if I were not religious, the lyrics would offer comfort and quiet if I needed it. Book. Is a fully-loaded Kindle cheating? If it is, I’ll go for Kathleen Gilles Seidel’s Till the Stars Fall simply because it is that good and I’m due to read it again.

Tink: What would be the name of your pet gourd?

Liz: Felix. Because he looks like a Felix to me.

Tink: Now for a bit about your book. If you wrote to music, what would be this book’s theme song?

Liz: I have never, ever thought about this. “Amazing Grace” was the first thing that came to mind simply because the heroine is Grace and I think she’s amazing, but that’s just too…easy, and neither the book nor Grace fit. Wait, I know! There’s a song on an old favorite exercise video called, “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” There are huge mountains of pain in the book—how Grace and Dillon cross those mountains is the story.

Tink: What are the first words your hero speaks to your heroine (or vice versa)?

Liz:  Grace says, “Dillon, you’re late.” His to her were, “The cats wanted in.”

Tink: Would you define your hero as an alpha or a beta? Why?

Liz: If I had to pigeonhole him, I guess I’d say beta with closet alpha tendencies. He’d never start a fight and would try to talk himself out of one, but he’d still be the last guy standing. And he’d still be talking.

Tink: Does your hero prefer to wear boxers, briefs, a kilt? Or commando? ;)

Liz: Briefs. White ones.

Tink: What is your heroine’s idea of the perfect date?

Liz: One where she doesn’t have to dress up or wear makeup. She’d a whole lot rather just stay home and eat pizza.

Tink: What is your favorite thing about each character?

Liz: Grace is the best friends anyone could have. Friendship is the one relationship that—I think anyway—is as important when you’re 80 as it was when you were eight, and Grace is good at it.

Dillon is a good friend, too, and he’s funny, and he’s a loving man who doesn’t pretend not to be.

Tink: More seriously, what was your biggest challenge crafting this story or these characters?

Liz: I have a tendency, not just in this book but in all the ones I’ve written, to make everyone sound too much alike. Since I can see and hear the differences, I expect readers (and editors) to be able to as well. It’s always a challenge to me to not just tell about their differences but show them, too.

Tink: Now for a more in-depth look at the author… I will now ask you a round of nosy and nonsensical questions developed by Bernard Peevo and used by James Lipton on Inside the Actor’s Studio…. Brace yourself J

What’s your favorite word? Least favorite?

Liz: My favorite word is joy. My least favorite, and I do apologize for this, is the f-bomb. When I was a kid and even thinking it would bring on the threat of soap in my mouth, it was good to have a word that was reserved for the truly awful—we no longer have one; it’s just become an annoying part of conversation. It doesn’t offend me; I just don’t like it.

Tink: What sound or noise do you love? Hate?

Liz: I love the sound of kids’ laughter—or nearly anyone else’s, for that matter. I can’t stand mindless whistling, though I can’t explain why.

Tink: What’s your favorite curse word?


Liz: Son of a bitch.

Tink: What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?

Liz: A travel writer.

Tink: What profession would you not like to participate in?

Liz: Politics.

Tink: Now for a sneak peak from One More Summer….

"This is supposed to be a prom.” Dillon pushed aside his dessert plate. He gestured toward the backyard. “The dance floor waits.”

Grace got to her feet. “Remember how fragile these glass slippers are.”

He nudged one of her bare feet with the toe of his sandal. “Damn near invisible too. Isn’t technology something?”

Dillon and Steven had placed citronella torches in the yard, and the scent of the oil blended with that of the flowers. The Righteous Brothers’ “Unchained Melody” filled the air and Dillon put his arms around Grace’s waist. Gently, not pulling her close. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders, suddenly shy. Other than aerobics classes in the church basement that Promise had dragged her to, she hadn’t danced since high school.

As they moved across the lawn, however, his arms tightened and her hands crept up around his neck, the left one with its glaring white bandage held palm out. His muscled legs moved against hers, but the motions they made were liquid, graceful, and she wished whimsically for a waltz and a flowing dress.

The song changed, and he sang close to her ear. The grass dance floor was cool and damp beneath her feet, the star-filled sky a splendid ceiling, the flickering torches the most romantic of lights, the subtle scent of roses a seductive aroma. Almost against her will, Grace’s eyes drifted closed as his lips lowered to hers. The ambiance was lost on Grace as Dillon’s kiss took over her senses. All she felt were his hands splayed on her back, his body flush with hers. All she smelled was the pleasant mingling of charcoal smoke and Irish Spring soap that lingered on his shirt and his skin. She tasted only his mouth, flavored with wine and coffee, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

After the third kiss, when her insides were a roiling mass of sensation and emotion, she murmured, “Geezy Pete.”

He said, “You got that right,” and stroked a hand up her back. “What’s this? You didn’t wear a bra to the prom?”

She brought her injured hand into his line of vision and waggled it. “I couldn’t fasten it.”

His hand came around between them to cup one small, denim-covered breast. “What a shame.” He found her nipple and worked the bead of its tip between his fingers.

A low moan slipped uncaught from her throat. Clutching her composure like a lifeline before it disintegrated completely, she said, “The music’s stopped.”

“Do you really think so?” he whispered, and teased her lips with the tip of his tongue until they opened.

They had danced their way to where they stood among the trees. When she opened her eyes again, she caught sight of a torch to their left, anchored into the ground beside the single step that led inside the gazebo.

The gazebo.

“No decent man in his right mind’s going to want you, girl.”

“No, Papa,” she whispered, caught in the horror, and moved restively in Dillon’s embrace.

“Gracie?” His voice was soft, gentling.

“I need to go in.” The words sounded much more urgent than the situation demanded, but she couldn’t unsay them.

“Okay.” He answered immediately, and turned her toward the house, but didn’t release her. “I’ll take you back.”

Steven and Promise weren’t on the back porch. The candles had been snuffed, but the dishes remained on the table. “Leave them,” Dillon said, leading her firmly past the mess and into the house. “Steven and I will take care of it. You go on up.”

She nodded and moved toward the stairs, but turned when she stood on the second one. “Dillon?”

“Yeah?” He smiled at her, the expression not erasing the frown of concern between his eyes.

“Thank you. The ‘prom’ was wonderful.” Without waiting for a reply, she ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

Tink: And the final questions the pirates have been waiting all day to ask…. If you could choose anyone (real or fictional) to be the captain of your, er, ship…who would it be? 

Liz: Oliver Platt. Because, like Felix the Gourd, I like how he looks.

Tink: Which savvy piece of the Caribbean would you most like to take home – the Black Pearl, the Dead Man’s Chest, or the Fountain of Youth? 

Liz: The Black Pearl…and I’ll have Oliver, too.

Tink: Would you rather take your chances with a zombie, a mermaid, or Blackbeard?

Liz: LOL. My imagination isn’t good enough to get around this, so I’ll go with Blackbeard. Oliver will help me…

Tink: And most importantly – Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, or Commodore Norrington?  

Liz: Captain Jack. Takes no imagination at all to answer that one!

Tink: It seems I have competition. :) Thank you for answering the crew’s nosy questions. From the Black Pearl, this is Tink and Captain Jack signing off….

Life is new and wonderful for writer Liz Flaherty these days. She retired from the post office in 2011, promptly gained 15 pounds—she swears it was overnight—and promised her grandchildren, The Magnificent Seven, that she would make each of them a bed-size quilt. She also planned to write all day, every day. What was she thinking?

She’s learned to write when she feels like it, sew when she feels like it, and maybe even to eat a little less. She’s gone back to school, where, yes, she is far and away the oldest kid in class. She’s learned to share the house and sometimes even the kitchen with Duane, her husband of, oh, lots of years. And she’s having a Very, Very Good Time. Her fifth book—she’s not really an overnight success; she just never gives up—is One More Summer a brand new release by Carina Press. She is thrilled to the point everyone she knows rolls their eyes as soon as she opens her mouth.

Visit Liz at her website and The WordWranglers where she hangs out with some of her best writer friends!

Cozies, you can find One More Summer this month at CarinaPress as well as Barnes & Noble and Amazon!

Liz has generously offered a giveaway for today’s Cozy Guest Friday. By commenting to today’s post and answering the following questions before midnight EST tomorrow, you will be entered to win a jar candle along with a book from her backlist:

What is your favorite scent and why? (If chosen as the winner, Liz will send your scent of choice!)

The winner will be chosen by the True Random Number Generator at Random.org and announced here at The Cozy Page on Sunday so please check back to see if you have won. (Chances of winning depend on the number of entries; you must be 18 years or older to enter.)

Cozy Guest Friday: Beth Trissel + Giveaway

Welcome to this week's Cozy Guest Friday! Today we welcome romance author Beth Trissel, author of Somewhere the Bells Ring, available now from The Wild Rose Press....

Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope–until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe–in Bailey and the ghost–before the Christmas bells ring?

Stay tuned for a sneak peak into Somewhere the Bells Ring! Now we go to our Cozy correspondent, Tink, who's sitting in front of the fire at Maple Hill with Beth and a few ghostly companions. Take it away, Tink....

*Christmas carols*

Tink: Greetings from Virginia! It's snowing outside, but Beth and I have cocoa to keep us warm. Speaking of drinks, Beth, if you were a mixed drink what would you be and why?

Beth: I’d like a hot toddy made with good Scotch whiskey, please, and a cozy seat by a crackling hearth. The hero’s favorite as well.

Tink: This might be wishful thinking *looks out at the snow* but iff you were stranded on a desert island and could bring only one of the following…what would they be? Person? Song? Book?   

Beth: Person.  I’m not a loner.  I’d bring my tribe.

Tink: What would be the name of your pet gourd? 

Beth: Birdie.  You can turn them into nesting sites or feeders.

Tink: Now for a bit about your book. If you wrote to music, what would be this book's theme song?  

Beth: Funny you should ask.  I do write to music and the theme for this story is Christmas Lullaby – by MannheimSteamroller.

Tink: What are the first words your hero speaks to your heroine (or vice versa)?

Beth: The hero appears in the past and the present in this story.  In the past he says: “Did no one ever instruct you to knock before entering a gentleman’s bedchamber?”

In the Present, he says: “Of course. Good to see you again, Bailey.”

Tink: Would you define your hero as an alpha or a beta? Why?

Beth: Alpha, he’s a Marine.  Or was, although once a Marine always a Marine.

Tink: Does your hero prefer to wear boxers, briefs, a kilt? Or commando? ;)

Beth: Boxers in both instances (although men in WW1 wore shorts that buttoned in the front).

Tink: What is your heroine’s idea of the perfect date?

Beth: A lovely candlelight dinner and dancing, but bear in mind that the story opens in 1968 and flashes back to 1918, so not contemporary but vintage American.

Tink: What is your favorite thing about each character?  

Beth: The timeless quality of their love, assuming you mean the H&H.  I also really enjoyed writing the outspoken housekeeper Ella who was very much as my dad described her from his childhood.  Somewhere the Bells Ring is based on the gracious old Virginia home place where my dad was born and raised and I grew up visiting over the holidays. 

Tink: More seriously, what was your biggest challenge crafting this story or these characters?

Beth: Somewhere the Bells Ring was inspired by the poignant dream I had years ago about a young woman, a guest in this old home during the holidays, and the mysterious gentleman she met.  That dream nagged at me every Christmas until I finally wrote their story.  Getting it right was the trick.  I chose to set it in the late 1960’s because I’m nostalgic about that era, but the dream actually took place earlier in the century judging by their costumes.  Thus the flashbacks to 1918 and the end of WW1.  But I pondered for ages which era to wing back to.  Having a Marine Corps Captain grandfather who distinguished himself during the thick of the fighting in France during The Great War and then tragically died when my father was only three definitely influenced this story–dedicated to the grandfather I never knew, but grieved all the same.

Tink: Now for a more in-depth look at the author… I will now ask you a round of nosy and nonsensical questions developed by Bernard Peevo and used by James Lipton on Inside the Actor’s Studio…. Brace yourself J What’s your favorite word?   

Beth: Mystical

Tink: Least favorite?  

Beth: The F word.  Not a fan of putrid either.

Tink: What sound or noise do you love? Hate?

Beth: The trill of the meadow lark in spring time. Hate: Static buzzing

Tink: What’s your favorite curse word?

Beth: A good honest English Damn. (To quote The Scarlet Pimpernel)

Tink: What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?

Beth: Script writing and I have.  Even won a few awards but went back to novels.

Tink: What profession would you not like to participate in?

Beth: Dentistry

Tink: Now for a sneak peak from Somewhere the Bells Rings….

“Bailey.” He spoke softly, so as not to startle her.

She turned toward him. In her long, white nightgown, hair tumbled down around her, wearing that lost look, she bore an unnerving resemblance to the mysterious woman in Wilkie Collins’ classic mystery, The Woman in White. Eric fervently hoped the similarity ended there. As he recalled from the novel, that unfortunate lady had been unhinged.

Leaving the door ajar, he stepped inside. “We missed you at breakfast.”

She answered distractedly. “I wasn’t hungry.”

He limped to where she stood, the hitch in his leg a little less pronounced today. Maybe he was getting stronger. “Why are you here, looking for ghosts?”

“Or a door to the past.”

He tried to coax a smile to her trembling lips. “Did you check inside the wardrobe?”

“Eric, I’m being serious.”

“That’s what worries me.” Leaning on his cane with one arm, he closed his other around her shoulders and drew her against him. Such a natural act, and she accepted his embrace without pulling back.

She smelled of flowers from her perfume and wood smoke. “Mercy, child,” he said in his best imitation of Ella, “it’s as cold as a tomb in here.”

“It wasn’t last night.”

Tink: And the final questions our friends back home have been waiting all day to ask…. If you could choose the spirit of anyone (real or fictional) to haunt to walls of your house…who would it be?   

Beth: The ghostly hero of Somewhere the Bells Ring, Edward Burke.  J 

Tink: What’s your favorite ghost story/legend? 

Beth: I like the ones where the ghosts are quite real, like a glimpse back in time, more mysterious than scary and not bad.  The Shenandoah Valley is full of ghost stories.   Virginia in general is.  Volumes have been published.  For example, one interesting account set in the valley involves a young man who arrived at an old plantation home early in the morning to collect a carpet he’d been directed to take back to the store for cleaning.  A woman in period dress opened the door and indicated the room and carpet which he removed.  Later, after he’d gone, he got a phone call telling him to wait and collect the carpet when the staff arrived as the house was locked—seems the resident ghost let him in.

Tink: Why do you think big southern plantations are popular place for ghosts to live both presumably in the real world and in fiction?

Beth: People get attached to these beautiful historic homes and are reluctant to move on.  That, and these houses have seen a lot of wars and other drama over the years.  The woman mentioned in the above story was murdered.  A psychic should tell her its time to move on.

Tink: The Christmas/paranormal theme is unique. What compelled you to combine the two subgenres?

Beth: The dream I referred to that took place at Christmas so I already knew the setting and I soon sensed it was a ghost story.

Thank you Tink for another great interview! And thanks to Beth for answering all of Tink's nosy questions....

Married to her high school sweetheart, Beth lives on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia surrounded by her children, grandbabies, and assorted animals. An avid gardener, her love of herbs and heirloom plants figures into her work. The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans, and the people who journeyed here from far beyond her borders are at the heart of her inspiration.  In addition to American settings, Beth also writes historical and time travel romances set in the British Isles. You can learn more about her at her website, blog, Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads!



***GIVEAWAY: Cozies, Beth has generously offered a giveaway for today's Cozy Guest Friday feature! By commenting to today's post before midnight EST tomorrow, you will be entered to win a digital download of Somewhere the Bells Ring in PDF, ePub, or Kindle format. (Chances of winning depend on the number of entries; you must be 18 years or older to enter.) One winner will be chosen randomly and announced Sunday morning so be sure to check back in to see if you have won!

All I want for Christmas...is an HEA!

I'm a big believer in Happy Endings. Well, duh. I'm a romance writer! Happy endings are a MUST in romance! While on writing break between the completion of my 2nd paranormal and November's NaNoWriMo, I'm catching up on my TBR pile as well as all those movies I didn't get to see over the spring and summer...as well as a few more that have slipped through the cracks over the years. And an alarming trend has started to fan my ire. With reading, this isn't a problem because I know my copy of J.R. Ward's Covet or Nora Roberts' Black Hills is absolutely, positively going to have a happy ending. But with movies? It's a real gamble. This is a major reason I rarely go to the movie theater anymore. Unless it's Harry Potter or the latest Jane Austen adaptation. I can't stand walking away from my $8 with nothing but a half-eaten bag of too-salty popcorn and major disappointment.


It all started with The Break Up. Yes, I KNOW it was called The Break Up. That's why there's a break up in the end. But I had some hope that Vince and Jenn would work things out in the end. If I'd written the frigging script, you can be darn sure they would've found some kind of compromise. Preferrably without the strippers and concert-ditching. Come on! It was supposed to be a romantic comedy. So why did I cry? And not in a good way.


Then there was Atonement. Oy vey. Keira Knightley was not only coming off Pirates with Johnny and Orlando but Pride & Prejudice with MacFayden, too, to be paired with Mr. Tumnus a.k.a. Mr. LeFroy a.k.a the dreamy Mr. McAvoy!!! All this boils down to Amber's supreme anticipation. I expected a sweeping, odds-defying, somewhat wrenching World War II romance. It's certainly possible - I WROTE ONE! Well, the most wrenching thing about this film was the fact that the story actually makes you believe for a time that they do in fact have a happy ending. Only - record scratching (literally) - nope! The narrator made it up to salve her own guilt. They didn't just not get their HEA. They both DIED. Horribly! I had to watch the entire Cap'n Jack collection and down half a bottle of wine just to feel better!!!


At the HeartLA Readers Luncheon this past weekend, author Cynthia Eden listed her reasons for reading romance. And yep, that guarenteed HEA came in first with much nodding and applauding of agreeance from everyone present. So I beseech moviemakers out there to take a leaf out of the billion-dollar romance industry. If you're going to make millions off your latest film, make your audience walk away feeling a bit better about the world. You can be dang sure that no happy ending equals no moolah out of my wallet for you. Who's with me? Whadaya say, readers? Seen any bad endings onscreen lately that made you want to take your $8 back? And this lady could definitely use a couple of guarenteed HEA's on her must-see list. Any recommendations?


*Since it's October, we're celebrating at The Roses of Prose this week with...National Popcorn Month! Didn't know about this one, did ya? No worries - I added a little Halloween-y treat: an exclusive excerpt from my paranormal Urban Secrets. To see how it fits into the whole Popcorn Month thing, read it here!

What's in a Man?

 As romance writers, we have the undeniable pleasure of bringing the men of our dreams to life. This is what drew me to writing love stories to begin with. I wanted to bring my daydreams as close to live and living color as possible. Wouldn’t it be fun? How hard could it be?
I knew from the start my heroes would have to be as irresistible as fiction’s favorites. Historically, my heroes would be competing with the likes of Jane Austen’s deliciously broody Mr. Darcy and Margaret Mitchell’s simply irresistible Rhett Butler. In the contemporary world of romance, my boys would have to go up against the unswerving devotion of Nicholas Sparks’ Noah Calhoun and Nora Roberts/J.D. Robb’s most insurmountable and fascinating leading man, Roarke—for me, this name is synonymous to perfection.
My first hero, a young, World War II Air Force lieutenant named Charles Tyler was too much of a boy. He was almost too wimpy, and I quickly grew tired of him. I had to revise the entire book just to give him some “meat”—a tasty term for muscle as well as grit and fortitude. My second attempt, an Italian man named Alex Cappollo, was far too moody and complicated. As the heroine became increasingly exasperated with him, my own consternation began to churn.
Third time’s the charm, they say. For me, this was fortunately right on the mark. I was writing a contemporary romance about two wronged jewel thieves who form an unlikely partnership and eventually end up falling hopelessly for each other. This brought me face-to-face with Todd Orso.
Todd has all the ingredients for “dreamy.” He’s from Texas, and his yummy accent just can’t be beat. I’m not referring to George W. Bush twang here. It’s more rugged and sophisticated than that. Not only is my heroine, Celestia, melting on the spot; I’m getting pretty hyped up just writing the dialogue! The voice is just one of the delectable things about Todd. He has a penchant for worn jeans and whiskey and has a striking resemblance to Brad Pitt. (“Coincidence? I think not!”)
It’s pretty much love at first sight for Celestia…and me. I know she’s a goner because I am. It’s a good thing this man is fiction because he might give my husband a good run for his money if he showed up on my real welcome mat.
Since I finished my third novel, I’ve found it easier to create several different intriguing heroes. Cole Savitt, a haunted cop in search of solace. Gerald Leighton, a British writer on a quest for the perfect muse. Mark Welles, a burned-out bodyguard determined to protect a hunted woman. Brock Sullivan, an Alabama boy who does everything he can to wrangle the heart of a stubborn, childhood sweetheart. They get better and better every time. They are a joy to write. They are one of the main reasons I eagerly sit down at my desk every morning and stay there as long as I possibly can—on lucky days, that’s until after midnight!
I believe that a writer can only make readers love his/her characters if he/she truly does. A writer’s affection for his/her protagonists shows. When I entered Lt. Charles Tyler’s revised story into a summer contest, a judge commented on my score sheet, “I see your heart in it, so please keep at it!”
Love your characters. Have fun writing them. I can guarantee, when they finally do get the recognition they deserve, the reward will be all the sweeter because of it.