I am trying to organize a book signing party and looking for 3-5 other authors living in Michigan to participate with me. The event will take place in September 2008 at the Barnes & Noble on Tittabawassee in Saginaw. It would be fun to have a variety of genre represented; however I am willing to share the spotlight with other romance writers.
This is a great opportunity and a chance to have a ton of fun!
Please contact me if you’re interested.
- Mary Quast
maryquast@yahoo.com
Find joy in everyday life through the musings of a romance author.
Monday, July 21, 2008
A Confession
Okay, you got me. I'm a junker. Or is it Junquer? My hobby is traveling with Hubby to garage sales, rummage sales, estate sales, flea markets, Goodwill, antique shops...
My sister, Ann, is a very creative person and can find treasures while garbage picking. Yes, you read that right. Come on, how many of you pass a trash pile in someone's yard and say, "Why are they throwing that out? It's perfectly good, just needs..." Well, that's my sister; she turnes trash into treasures. I learned from the master!
Hubby and I managed to decorate close to 90% of our 4600 sq ft home with findings from sales. Even the boys have fun and find treasures of their own.
I have been recording findings, treasures,and ideas on another blog. Finders Keepers. Check it out if you're a junker too or if you are open to fresh, new ideas. www.xanga.com/finders.
Painted Soul
EXCERPT 4
Her blood boiled with sexuality from his touch. He placed hard kisses along her neck. Forgetting her brother was sitting near by, soft moans escaped her.
She felt the limo swerve to the side of the street. She looked out the window as it pulled up to The Place. Puzzola helped her to her feet. A familiar, but older, elf greeted them and Elizabeth noticed the sparkle in his eyes. He either remembered her or was expecting her when he greeted her by name.
“They’re here,” she saw him speak into a small microphone as she stepped aside to let her brother pass.
“Me ole friends, welcome,” Tucker Tripp placed a kiss on her hand. “An’ to the lady, Elizabeth, whose beauty grows ere time me eyes see her. Candy to me own eyes, she is.”
She smiled at him as he led them through a corridor she had never seen. Puzzola held her tightly as Erick looked back at her. They paused before going through a door. Elizabeth looked in the direction Erick pointed. A black and white sign read, “The Skunk’s Den.”
“You are in my realm now,” Puzzola’s voice was raspy as he opened the heavy door. “Welcome to my kingdom. It’s time you met my subjects.”
Her blood boiled with sexuality from his touch. He placed hard kisses along her neck. Forgetting her brother was sitting near by, soft moans escaped her.
She felt the limo swerve to the side of the street. She looked out the window as it pulled up to The Place. Puzzola helped her to her feet. A familiar, but older, elf greeted them and Elizabeth noticed the sparkle in his eyes. He either remembered her or was expecting her when he greeted her by name.
“They’re here,” she saw him speak into a small microphone as she stepped aside to let her brother pass.
“Me ole friends, welcome,” Tucker Tripp placed a kiss on her hand. “An’ to the lady, Elizabeth, whose beauty grows ere time me eyes see her. Candy to me own eyes, she is.”
She smiled at him as he led them through a corridor she had never seen. Puzzola held her tightly as Erick looked back at her. They paused before going through a door. Elizabeth looked in the direction Erick pointed. A black and white sign read, “The Skunk’s Den.”
“You are in my realm now,” Puzzola’s voice was raspy as he opened the heavy door. “Welcome to my kingdom. It’s time you met my subjects.”
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Painted Soul Excerpt 3
BLURB:
A contemporary romance with a twist, Painted Soul is a story that takes the reader on a wonderful ride in an artist’s life, through the streets of London, and into the shadows of the underground.
Elizabeth McAlister was only eighteen when she met the art student, Puzzola in a London nightclub and gave him her heart. Ten years later, they meet again when a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins.
As Elizabeth falls deeper in love with Puzzola, she tries to rescue him from tortured memories he refuses to discuss. Eventually, his double life and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper just as he is involved in a life-threatening accident.
EXCERPT 3
Puzzola stood with a beer in his hand staring at the large canvas propped against the wall. The conflicting emotions inside him needed to be released. He looked at the prepared canvas like a gunfighter eyeing his opponent. His chest heaved as he swallowed the last of his beverage then slammed the bottle onto the concrete wall. The shattering of glass was barely heard above the blaring music. With a fierce grasp, he moved the large canvas into better light in the studio. Never taking his gaze from the barren space, he stripped down to his boxers to escape the heat and allow him the freedom of movement to cover the massive canvas.
Tipping his head back, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes in meditation. The world was spinning, except where he was standing, time was still. The image came to him. Opening his eyes, he grabbed a favorite paintbrush, which quickly became an extension of him, and twirled his paint cart to an accessible location.
A force escaping from his soul would create the painting. He began to paint with violence as thoughts and memories passed over his mind’s eye. He saw his paternal grandparents, in their golden years, so much in love working in their art and pottery studio. He touched the gold cross lying on his chest. He remembered his grandmother giving him the cross when she recognized his artistic ability, as he gave her his promise to use his God-given talent. He saw his father’s disapproving scowl. His father was openly resentful of the relationship between Puzzola and his parents. Puzzola’s mind envisioned the kiln explosion again as if it were real and felt the pain of watching his grandparents die in the blaze.
Puzzola stepped back momentarily to assess his work. His breath came rapidly as if he was running. Sweat covered his taunt, muscled body. Blood raced through his veins.
He vowed to keep the promise made to his grandmother, even as it enraged his father. He remembered his father accusing him of being a sleaze, filth, scum. He thought of his mother’s tears and his father’s attempts to strangle his artistic spirit, his soul slowly dying, while his heart was hardening. If Edwin Somerby couldn’t accept his son, who could?
To purchase Painted Soul visit Vanilla Heart Publishing online bookstore http://shop.vanillaheartbooksandauthors.com/product.sc?categoryId=1&productId=9
A contemporary romance with a twist, Painted Soul is a story that takes the reader on a wonderful ride in an artist’s life, through the streets of London, and into the shadows of the underground.
Elizabeth McAlister was only eighteen when she met the art student, Puzzola in a London nightclub and gave him her heart. Ten years later, they meet again when a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins.
As Elizabeth falls deeper in love with Puzzola, she tries to rescue him from tortured memories he refuses to discuss. Eventually, his double life and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper just as he is involved in a life-threatening accident.
EXCERPT 3
Puzzola stood with a beer in his hand staring at the large canvas propped against the wall. The conflicting emotions inside him needed to be released. He looked at the prepared canvas like a gunfighter eyeing his opponent. His chest heaved as he swallowed the last of his beverage then slammed the bottle onto the concrete wall. The shattering of glass was barely heard above the blaring music. With a fierce grasp, he moved the large canvas into better light in the studio. Never taking his gaze from the barren space, he stripped down to his boxers to escape the heat and allow him the freedom of movement to cover the massive canvas.
Tipping his head back, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes in meditation. The world was spinning, except where he was standing, time was still. The image came to him. Opening his eyes, he grabbed a favorite paintbrush, which quickly became an extension of him, and twirled his paint cart to an accessible location.
A force escaping from his soul would create the painting. He began to paint with violence as thoughts and memories passed over his mind’s eye. He saw his paternal grandparents, in their golden years, so much in love working in their art and pottery studio. He touched the gold cross lying on his chest. He remembered his grandmother giving him the cross when she recognized his artistic ability, as he gave her his promise to use his God-given talent. He saw his father’s disapproving scowl. His father was openly resentful of the relationship between Puzzola and his parents. Puzzola’s mind envisioned the kiln explosion again as if it were real and felt the pain of watching his grandparents die in the blaze.
Puzzola stepped back momentarily to assess his work. His breath came rapidly as if he was running. Sweat covered his taunt, muscled body. Blood raced through his veins.
He vowed to keep the promise made to his grandmother, even as it enraged his father. He remembered his father accusing him of being a sleaze, filth, scum. He thought of his mother’s tears and his father’s attempts to strangle his artistic spirit, his soul slowly dying, while his heart was hardening. If Edwin Somerby couldn’t accept his son, who could?
To purchase Painted Soul visit Vanilla Heart Publishing online bookstore http://shop.vanillaheartbooksandauthors.com/product.sc?categoryId=1&productId=9
Monday, July 7, 2008
Painted Soul - excerpt 2
BLURB:
A contemporary romance with a twist, Painted Soul is a story that takes the reader on a wonderful ride in an artist’s life, through the streets of London, and into the shadows of the underground.
Elizabeth McAlister was only eighteen when she met the art student, Puzzola in a London nightclub and gave him her heart. Ten years later, they meet again when a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins.
As Elizabeth falls deeper in love with Puzzola, she tries to rescue him from tortured memories he refuses to discuss. Eventually, his double life and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper just as he is involved in a life-threatening accident.
EXCERPT 2
“I used to get butterflies just thinking about Puzzola or the night we met,” the sherry was loosening her tongue. "Now I’m in the same country and I’m going crazy knowing he’s not far away. I feel tingles all over. Am I nuts? I don’t even really know him, we just danced and that was ten years ago!”
Erick tapped her on the nose. “You are not nuts. He may be closer than you think,” he laughed. “He’s still hot for you, I’m sure,” he moaned. “I wish I were in your shoes right now!”
“What?” Elizabeth laughed. “I thought you preferred women.”
“Ugh!” Erick put her in a headlock and rubbed the top of her head with his knuckles. “I do prefer women! Don’t ever think that again, young lady!” He released her with a shove, “I meant the idea of embarking on the greatest trip of your life. I remember an artist I slept with once, and she was incredible! She was even better than the dancer. Oh the dancer could move alright, but the artist was so creative,” he jeered. “You should have seen them together. Hot!”
“Now you’re grossing me out,” she threw a pillow at her brother’s sultry grin.
He caught the pillow but didn’t lose the grin, “Well since we are having a heart to heart conversation and sex is one of the topics, can I ask you something?”
“You ask me? This is a first. Shoot away, brother dear.”
“Who did you give your virginity to? Was it that guy in college?”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe she was having this discussion with her brother. The sherry must have been stronger that she thought.
“Yes, it was Rob.”
She recalled the sexy young artist from her classes. Rob Duvall, tall, dark and handsome. His passion for his art surpassed her passion for painting. There was sexual tension between them from the first day they met. It was only a short time before he convinced her to pose nude for a drawing. Only she ended up in his bed, and many other places, time and time again. He took her when he wanted, and left her feeling exhausted and empty every time he walked out the door. Their relationship turned into a game of how quick, how often and how few words.
“He looked a bit like Puzzola. But he was a total jerk, Elizabeth. I was pleased when you broke up with him.”
“Things just didn’t feel right, Erick. We were great together in the studio, the dark room and the gallery,” she laughed at her brother’s gaping expression. “But we couldn’t carry on a normal conversation. Do you suppose, in my subconscious, he was a substitute for Puzzola?”
A contemporary romance with a twist, Painted Soul is a story that takes the reader on a wonderful ride in an artist’s life, through the streets of London, and into the shadows of the underground.
Elizabeth McAlister was only eighteen when she met the art student, Puzzola in a London nightclub and gave him her heart. Ten years later, they meet again when a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins.
As Elizabeth falls deeper in love with Puzzola, she tries to rescue him from tortured memories he refuses to discuss. Eventually, his double life and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper just as he is involved in a life-threatening accident.
EXCERPT 2
“I used to get butterflies just thinking about Puzzola or the night we met,” the sherry was loosening her tongue. "Now I’m in the same country and I’m going crazy knowing he’s not far away. I feel tingles all over. Am I nuts? I don’t even really know him, we just danced and that was ten years ago!”
Erick tapped her on the nose. “You are not nuts. He may be closer than you think,” he laughed. “He’s still hot for you, I’m sure,” he moaned. “I wish I were in your shoes right now!”
“What?” Elizabeth laughed. “I thought you preferred women.”
“Ugh!” Erick put her in a headlock and rubbed the top of her head with his knuckles. “I do prefer women! Don’t ever think that again, young lady!” He released her with a shove, “I meant the idea of embarking on the greatest trip of your life. I remember an artist I slept with once, and she was incredible! She was even better than the dancer. Oh the dancer could move alright, but the artist was so creative,” he jeered. “You should have seen them together. Hot!”
“Now you’re grossing me out,” she threw a pillow at her brother’s sultry grin.
He caught the pillow but didn’t lose the grin, “Well since we are having a heart to heart conversation and sex is one of the topics, can I ask you something?”
“You ask me? This is a first. Shoot away, brother dear.”
“Who did you give your virginity to? Was it that guy in college?”
Elizabeth couldn’t believe she was having this discussion with her brother. The sherry must have been stronger that she thought.
“Yes, it was Rob.”
She recalled the sexy young artist from her classes. Rob Duvall, tall, dark and handsome. His passion for his art surpassed her passion for painting. There was sexual tension between them from the first day they met. It was only a short time before he convinced her to pose nude for a drawing. Only she ended up in his bed, and many other places, time and time again. He took her when he wanted, and left her feeling exhausted and empty every time he walked out the door. Their relationship turned into a game of how quick, how often and how few words.
“He looked a bit like Puzzola. But he was a total jerk, Elizabeth. I was pleased when you broke up with him.”
“Things just didn’t feel right, Erick. We were great together in the studio, the dark room and the gallery,” she laughed at her brother’s gaping expression. “But we couldn’t carry on a normal conversation. Do you suppose, in my subconscious, he was a substitute for Puzzola?”
Friday, June 27, 2008
Painted Soul Excerpt 1
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A contemporary romance with a twist, Painted Soul is a story that takes the reader on a wonderful ride in an artist’s life, through the streets of London, and into the shadows of the underground.
Elizabeth McAlister was only eighteen when she met the art student, Puzzola in a London nightclub and gave him her heart. Ten years later, they meet again when a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins.
As Elizabeth falls deeper in love with Puzzola, she tries to rescue him from tortured memories he refuses to discuss. Eventually, his double life and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper just as he is involved in a life-threatening accident.
EXCERPT 1
She looked from her empty glass across the dancing ocean to where he was standing just a moment before. Her body still tingled in a way she didn’t understand. Perhaps she felt something because he looked like a musician or an artist; she had always been interested in expressive people. Somehow, there was something more drawing her deeper to this phantom punk. Elizabeth continued to scan the crowd desperately hope to see him again, until Erick interrupted her thoughts.
“Arm yourselves my dears,” Erick danced up bringing them two new drinks. He flashed a smile and yelled, “Happy hunting!” as he slid down the rail again.
He had come and gone as fast as lightening. They watched Erick disappear into the massive wave of writhing bodies.
Lynn quickly downed her drink and yelled, “I’ve got to try that!” She climbed onto the rail and held onto her skirt with one hand, “Watch out below! Ya-hoo!”
Caught in the arms of a smiling stranger, Lynn was carried off into the deep mass of dancers. Elizabeth was alone and laughing when she felt a burning gaze upon her. She looked down to the dancing wave below. There he was, standing still amongst the dancers, an outstretched hand with a wide gold band on the thumb, his long fingers slowly beckoning her to join him in the dance. Yet his eyes and smile seemed to beckon for something else. Elizabeth felt a silent desire escape from the caverns of her soul.
“Breath, Elizabeth, breath,” she willed herself.
Format: paperback perfect
ISBN: 978-0-9814739-3-2
Retail Price: 15.95
page count: 360
To purchase Painted Soul visit Vanilla Heart Publishing online bookstore http://shop.vanillaheartbooksandauthors.com/product.sc?categoryId=1&productId=9
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Lost Mind - Please Return to Owner
So I couldn't remember where on my desk top I placed the link to my Blogspot. So it took me days to find it. So I couldn't remember my password. So it took me another day to clean my desk to find the piece of paper I wrote it upon. So here I am. Where's my chocolate?
I think dark chocolate is the most wonderful food in the universe. However, I have noticed how my beloved sweet is getting the recognition it's deserved after all these years. Sure, now it's good for you! Have a little square daily with a glass of red wine and it'll cure what ails ya! Works for me.
But have you noticed how the chocolate now comes in different "flavors" and a variety of names? Some dark chocolate is carob, some is more bitter than others. Hey, just give it to me... I'll do all the taste-testing needed. It's good for me, right?
I look down and see a litter of small purple wrappers that seemed to have missed the garbage basket. Oops, my secret is out. I look into a lovely little box located on the top shelf of my desk. Many of those horded kisses are missing. So, I travel down to my eldest son's room and there sitting on his desk in a neat arrangement is five purple foiled dark chocolate kisses. It's official, the kids have found my stash.
Now to find a new hiding place, but within reach of my keyboard for those intense writing moments when a burst of chocolate is needed. Hmm..... I'll have to swear the guinea pig living in my office to silence. He'll do anything for celery these days.
I think I'll nibble on a delicious dark square while I sit and think about this situation. Yummy... this is good for me.
I think dark chocolate is the most wonderful food in the universe. However, I have noticed how my beloved sweet is getting the recognition it's deserved after all these years. Sure, now it's good for you! Have a little square daily with a glass of red wine and it'll cure what ails ya! Works for me.
But have you noticed how the chocolate now comes in different "flavors" and a variety of names? Some dark chocolate is carob, some is more bitter than others. Hey, just give it to me... I'll do all the taste-testing needed. It's good for me, right?
I look down and see a litter of small purple wrappers that seemed to have missed the garbage basket. Oops, my secret is out. I look into a lovely little box located on the top shelf of my desk. Many of those horded kisses are missing. So, I travel down to my eldest son's room and there sitting on his desk in a neat arrangement is five purple foiled dark chocolate kisses. It's official, the kids have found my stash.
Now to find a new hiding place, but within reach of my keyboard for those intense writing moments when a burst of chocolate is needed. Hmm..... I'll have to swear the guinea pig living in my office to silence. He'll do anything for celery these days.
I think I'll nibble on a delicious dark square while I sit and think about this situation. Yummy... this is good for me.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Well.... here I am.
I started this grey, gloomy, cold day by writing two Presbyterian 101 columns. These are little articles published in a monthly newsletter my church sends out. It is a humorous (and occasionally serious) column that also gives a Christian lesson regarding the Presbyterian faith. (I am also authoring new Christain Education lessons for an after school program for my church.)
Fast forward....
after three cups of coffee....
I signed up for this blog. "Finally!" according to some of my writer friends. LOL.
Now, if you put 2+2 together you might see that I write Christian lessons as well as contemporary romance. That is very right. Let's just hope I send the propper downloads to the correct publisher! I also edited a cookbook... shhhh... I really like to cook too, especially when it involves chocolate.
I have completed three contemporary romance with a twist novels and I'm currently working on two more in the series of five. I must say at times it is difficult to find time to write being a mom to three boys - ages 11, 7, and 3. But my family also helps me stay grounded.
Speaking of being grounded, it's time to rally the boys, get them dressed and onto their chores, feed a toad to the turtle, pat the guinea pigs, hug my dog, kiss my husband, grab another cup of coffee and work on book #4, "Fortunate Soul". Life is always an adventure in my house.
And remember:
adventure is all about personal discovery; possibilities are infinite.
Fast forward....
after three cups of coffee....
I signed up for this blog. "Finally!" according to some of my writer friends. LOL.
Now, if you put 2+2 together you might see that I write Christian lessons as well as contemporary romance. That is very right. Let's just hope I send the propper downloads to the correct publisher! I also edited a cookbook... shhhh... I really like to cook too, especially when it involves chocolate.
I have completed three contemporary romance with a twist novels and I'm currently working on two more in the series of five. I must say at times it is difficult to find time to write being a mom to three boys - ages 11, 7, and 3. But my family also helps me stay grounded.
Speaking of being grounded, it's time to rally the boys, get them dressed and onto their chores, feed a toad to the turtle, pat the guinea pigs, hug my dog, kiss my husband, grab another cup of coffee and work on book #4, "Fortunate Soul". Life is always an adventure in my house.
And remember:
adventure is all about personal discovery; possibilities are infinite.
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