Win an ARC of ETERNITY'S MARK!

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Eternity's Mark

by Maeve Greyson

Giveaway ends February 14, 2012.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

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Animal lover?

In case you didn't know it, I love animals and more often than not; I tend to understand and feel a sense of acceptance from animals more than I do with my own "species". A friend of mine emailed the following pictures to me today and they gave me such a warm happy feeling --I just had to share. I don't know where these photographs originated but I'm grateful to whoever put them "out there" for all of us to enjoy.

Have a great weekend y'all!
:-)
Maeve

Where did THAT come from?

And he goes for the dunk!

Whaddya mean I've only got 5 more minutes?

Mine! Mine! Mine!

The professional cake taster was provided at no additional charge.

Ahh...nothing like one of those beds that conforms to your body.

Yaaawwwnnn...just lemme sleep a little longer, 'kay?

How's YOUR'S taste?

Did you just call me SHORT???

Excuse me? Were you speaking to us?

More please?

But Mama - the ground is hot!!

Pardon me. Could you please ask the waiter to bring me a clean fork?

It's been a LOOOONG day!

Shhh...baby is sleeping.

Well dammit.

We'll hold him down while you run get help.

What do you mean you THINK you saw it run out the window?

It was like this when I got here. SWEAR!

A laugh, a smile, and a hearty THANK YOU in the form of a free book...

It's been an awesome year. When I was a kid, I never understood when the "old folks" said that as you get older, time slips away before you know it. I understand fully now because I can't figure out how I happened to land on December 31, 2011 so quickly. I blinked and the year was gone. For this end of year post, I thought I'd leave you with a few pictures of how we laughed our year to a close. I hope they give you a smile too.

Oh! And the "thank you" I mentioned in the title. This year I took part in the Long and Short Reviews: Stuff Your Stocking Blogfest. Commenters were entered to win an advanced reading copy of ETERNITY'S MARK. http://lasrguest.blogspot.com/2011/12/stuff-your-stocking-blogfest-maeve.html If you happen to leave a comment on this post - I'll add your name to the pot. I'll draw the winner's name tonight right before 2012 makes its grand appearance.

Happy New Year, my friends. May 2012 be filled with good things for us all and the strength to defeat anything bad that might decide to nip at our heels.

Blessings to all,
Maeve

The cookie chefs. Cornflake cookies are sticky - but good!

Just squeeze it. Really. It'll be funny.

Of all the gifts the child received, the whoopie cushion was her favorite.

Oldest daughter & her new fiance. She's grown quite sassy since receiving that ring!

Youngest daughter LOVED her Thundercat's sword.

I'm proud to say I have my own personal elf. Life just doesn't get any better!

Calisa Rhose's HOME Countdown - DAY 2!!!

I'm so pleased to welcome the very talented Calisa Rhose to my blog today. We're celebrating the release of HOME. I know readers are just going to love it. Welcome, Calisa!

Hi Maeve! It’s great to finally be here with you. I’ve so looked forward to sharing HOME with the world for so long that it seems like a dream now that the time has actually arrived!

Don’t forget to leave your EMAIL ADDRESS in your comment this week! Be sure to come to my BIG SALE PARTY on my blog on January 1, 2012!

Whistle! Confetti! Streamers!

So let’s get on with this countdown!!!!

DAY 2!!!

For your readers I brought a new excerpt from HOME to share! This from a scene where Sam is having a difficult conversation with his mother when Poppy shows up unexpectedly. I hope you enjoy this special peek!

TAG- What could a gypsy and a Vietnam veteran have in common?

BLURB- Silvertown’s outcast, Poppy Tippen, has loved football hero Sam “The Force” Callahan forever. But he never seemed to know she was alive. Now he’s home from the war and she suddenly finds herself comforting him from the demons of “that damn war.” Is his attention merely an escape from the haunting nightmares? Or does she hold the interest of the only man she’s ever truly loved?

Sam Callahan’s only solace from the war nightmares wrecking his life comes in the unlikely form of a gypsy girl with stigmas of her own. He’s known Poppy his entire life, but there’s something different about her now. Something special he desperately wants to hold on to. Can he convince her she’s the only thing he needs to put the past behind him?

EXCERPT-

Over the next week he actively avoided his mother as he raked and watered the lawn. He’d found out the gardener had left when his mother stopped paying him, not that Sam blamed the guy. So, he would try to do what he could to fix the old place up again. Somehow, like himself, he doubted the place he’d called home would ever fully recover the ravages of wartime. It gave him something useful to get through the days before he creeped out at night.

“Sammie, we need to talk.”

He dropped his head and counted briefly before facing his mother. “Good morning, Ma.”

“Have you talked to that woman?”

No nonsense, that was Ma. He dragged in a heavy breath to stifle a groan. “What woman would that be?”

“Don’t play games with me, Sam. You know full well I’m talking about that gypsy woman who owns the doll store. Did you tell her you want the doll back?” His mother threw hands to hips. He waited five ticks. Yep, there it was. Her left foot began flapping like a fish out of water to make known her full ire at him. He almost grinned.

As he stared at her tapping foot, Sam realized he’d actually missed that trait in his mother while he’d been gone. But she wasn’t interested in reflections of days past. “No. I’m not going to get the doll. It’s better off gone if it causes you so much distress. Just forget it and let it be, Ma.”

“Forget it? Haven’t you heard what I’ve been telling you? It will only cause more problems the longer that woman has it!” She was almost yelling and Sam cringed inwardly with a glance around. She ought to keep her voice down or—

Or, what? Did he expect the VC to pop out of the surrounding sticks that had once been shrubbery admired by the whole town? Yes. He did. Damn it all. Why was it so hard for him to let go of the war he was no longer a part of? He shuffled his loafer-clad feet and sighed heavily. “What’s so special about that doll that you won’t let it go?”

His mother looked away from him as though she had a secret and twisted her hands around her ever-present hankie. “It’s bad, evil.”

“Then, why on earth would you want it back? Good riddance, I’d say.”

“No!” She backed up a step and looked up at him, lips painted the same bright red, and he vaguely wondered if she’d worn it so long it had become permanent, a tattoo. A bright red tattoo. Blood red… “It was a gift from my cousin, Helen, when I visited her in California, before she died. I already told you that. But, it’s cursed! I can’t risk anyone else suffering because of that—that thing!”

Blood red… Sam shook the image off and looked over his mother’s head toward the street.

Of all the times to wander in, he didn’t need Poppy showing up right then, while his mother was on her insane rampage about a doll.

A doll that Poppy’s mother had bought fair and square, according to Ma. Now it was a cursed doll? She’d said something about that last time she mentioned the damn thing. He was suddenly afraid his mother was losing her mind. “Son of a bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, young man. I won’t have that kind of language used in this house. Your father—God rest his soul—didn’t use that filth, and I won’t have my only son speak it.” She sounded so normal, suddenly.

“Sorry, Ma. I need to go…somewhere, for a while.”

“Get the doll.” Her voice poured from that red mouth like a warning.

He leaned the rake he’d been using before the interruption against the wood shed and tossed a wave over his head to his mother as he strode for the driveway, and Poppy. Suddenly, it took all his will not to break out in a run and just keep going. Never to stop until he was far, far away from this new nightmare his mother had introduced to him. Blood red, blood. Red, blood, red, blood, red blood.

Sam didn’t stop when he reached Poppy, but grabbed her hand and swung her around with him—took her away before his mother realized who she was. He especially didn’t need her to see the doll shop owner’s daughter.

He picked up his already fast pace until he felt a jerk against his hand and slowed down.  He didn’t want to talk. Not yet. Walk. Keep walking…fast.

“Whoa, soldier boy!” She yanked him to a stop. For a little thing, she was stronger than he’d have thought. “What’s with you? If I wanted to race I’d be a horse.”

Blood red. No talking. Walk. Her hand still in his, he gave a rough tug.

******************************** 

Get your copy of HOME at The Wild Rose Press and on Amazon.

Small-town country girl Calisa Rhose lives in a semi-remote area of Oklahoma with her husband, five dogs and one horse and a cat. All of her three daughters and their families live within throwing distance. She’s a member of RWA and the local chapter OKRWA. She intends to nurture and continue to grow as an author with the help of her family and supporters.

Find Calisa at her website/blog http://calisarhose.wordpress.com

On twitter @Calisa_Rhose and Facebook @Calisa Rhose

She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at calisa.rhose@gmail.com

The day following the New Years Day party, on my blog, I will be giving away the first copy of HOME to one lucky commenter! The more you comment this week, it’s time to back track and make sure you got your name in as many times as you can, the greater your chance to win! You can find the full tour schedule on my website at the link above on my blog (chit-chat).

This has been great, Maeve!

LET THE HOLIDAY WARS BEGIN!!

Every year hubby and I swear to each other that we won’t exchange gifts.  Every year we both lie. This year will be no different and the battles have already begun.

Round One:

Hubby grins across the living room and says, “Just so you know, on Christmas morning, I’m probably gonna be in trouble.”

“What have you done?” was my immediate response. My inner Christmas-Giving-Beast whispered, “Ye know what he’s done, m’precious.” Yeah. I know. My inner Christmas-Giving-Beast sounds like a cross between Gollum from the LORD OF THE RINGS and Connor MacLeod from the movie HIGHLANDER. 

I narrow my eyes at my gloating husband and prod again. “Answer me. What have you done and which kid helped you.”

Hubby’s smile widens. “I’m not tellin’.”

Round Two: 

After interrogating both daughters, I force…er…enlist the oldest one into my ranks. After all, I’m a woman. We’re not even until I’m ahead. I make three purchases and have the items shipped to her house.

Round Three:

Hubby overhears phone conversation with oldest daughter and returns fire. Three unexplained debits show up on our bank account. Grrr…

Round Four:

Smaller purchase for Hubby arrives at the house –while he’s home. Curses! Foiled by customer service folk who refuse to listen to explicit instructions.

Round Five:

Arrive home from work to a suspiciously gloating husband. Christmas music is floating through the house and it’s not even Thanksgiving. He points me to the top of the china cabinet with a laughing, “Look what I did” smirk. Grumble…grumble…This isn’t over. This is just November. I will. Not. Lose!

 May you all be winners in your everyday battles. 

May you all overcome your adversaries and know the priceless joys of health, happiness and love!

Holidays: the perfect time for enjoying a brand new romance!

I'm so thrilled to have my good friend, Beth Trissel over for a visit today. Not only is she a multi-published, award-winning author - but she bakes a delicious cookie too. Yum! 

So, don't be shy. There's plenty of refreshments for everyone. And guess what? After you finish hearing about Beth's wonderful new release, Somewhere the Bells Ring, be sure and leave a comment along with your email because one lucky commenter is going to receive a copy of Beth's new read. 

So, it's not only a great Release Day party - it's a chance to win a lovely escape from the "Oh my gosh - it's already the holidays" syndrome. Happy release day, Beth!

Thanks Maeve for having me on your lovely blog to celebrate my holiday release.  Come one, come all.  Kick back, enjoy mugs of hot chocolate and let’s break out the eggnog and the sugar cookies as we reminisce about those ghosts of Christmas past. 

Nostalgia about the late 1960’s inspired the time period for my vintage American ghost story Christmas romance, Somewhere the Bells Ring.  An adolescent in 1968, I remember it well.  Think hippies, the Cultural Revolution, and Americans divided into two diametrically opposed camps, those who were freaky and those who were square.  I’m glad to say I ranked among the former, eventually.  The song “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” came out in ”67 but exemplified the hippie movement still going strong  in ”68.  Fashion was all over the place and fishnet hose all the rage.  I gloried in my first pair while wearing my Bonnie Bell lip gloss.  Anything more than that makeup wise and my disapproving father said I resembled a lady of the night, and he wasn’t thinking vampire.  

The maxi dress followed on the heels of the maxi skirt, which I was all about.  Mom sewed several for me and I floated around like a princess.  The music of the late 60’s was awesome.  What a thrill when I first heard Innagadadavida by Iron Butterfly.  Stunned might be a better word, but it definitely impressed me as did many other songs of that era. How about Aquarius! 

Not to overlook the less positive elements of “68, like Vietnam and the tragic assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy.  I was deeply sorry, but as a kid didn’t overly dwell on those.  One of the top films of 1968 was Romeo and Juliette which stamped me as a romantic forever and brings me back to my release. 

In addition to nostalgia about 1968 is my draw to an earlier time, 1918 and the end of WW1, the war to end all wars it was called and the one my Marine grandfather served in with distinction.  In Somewhere the Bells Ring, Eric Burke and his predecessor Edward Burke returned home with injuries, both physical and psychological, from these two very different wars.  Bailey, a hippie wannabe, seeks answers not only to where she belongs but to the mystery that spans generations in the old house where the story unfolds.  Maple Hill is based on the gracious plantation home in my family that I grew up visiting over the holidays.  And did I mention the ghost?

Blurb:

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?

Excerpt:

“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.”~

Somewhere the Bells Ring is available in various eBook formats at The Wild Rose Press and will travel onto Amazon kindle, Barnes & Noble’s nookbook and other online booksellers.  For more on me and my work please visit:

My website: www.bethtrissel.com

My blog: http://bethtrissel.wordpress.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/BethTrissel

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/bctrissel 

Don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win! Doesn't Beth's newest read sound like a great escape from holiday stress? 

Fall festivals, dog strollers, and social skills…

Fall is definitely my favorite time of year. Cool crisp days. Blazes of color. Cuddling around a bonfire with a steaming cup of coffee. *blissful sigh* This particular spoke of the seasonal wheel renews my soul.

And during this gorgeous time of year, daughter and I always enjoy our annual excursions to a multitude of craft fall festivals. Here’s one of the goodies she and I discovered during our most recent trip.

I always take Jasper along. He loathes being left behind and always behaves like the perfect gentleman no matter how many small children stop us and ask, “Can I pet your puppy?” Jasper has a wag of his tail and a sloppy kiss for each and every one.

He got a bit perturbed at me during this most recent trip. Look at this awesome pet stroller I found! I put Jasper inside, zip it shut and he rides around in style.  Well. He rode around in style AFTER he glared up at me through the screen and telepathed some extremely foul words that I’d rather not include in this post. Jasper has this keen ability to let me know exactly what he’s thinking…and he wasn’t being very nice. I feel certain he called me some very choice names. After he finished making his opinion known, he finally settled down on the sheepskin pad and enjoyed the ride. 

I also made another observation during this trip. Every young person I encountered from high school age and younger was the perfect example of a polite, considerate individual. Yes ma’am. No ma’am. Excuse me. Please. Thank you. All of them were a delight.

They were a direct contrast to some of the so-called adults I endured. Even though these individuals were my age and older, several of them pushed, shoved, snatched, grabbed and generally exhibited rude behavior that is unacceptable in a crowd.

Parts of the festival were quite crowded, shoulder to shoulder in fact. One older gentleman decided that it was more effective to push people aside and bellow, “beep beep beep - I’m coming through” instead of the more acceptable, “excuse me, please”. Those type folks have a bad effect on me. They tend to trigger an extremely uncontrollable urge to either “accidently” stick out my foot and trip them or suddenly find it very necessary to stick my bony elbows out as far as they will go.

So, bravo to the polite, well-mannered youngsters in this world. I did notice and I do appreciate how you made my day more pleasant. I rarely hear about you on the news. Only the bad apples seem to get the spotlight.

And to the rude adults? Shame on you – you know better!

Happy Autumn Everyone!