Looking for good reads this summer? Look no further.
Over the next eight weeks, nine fabulous authors in mixed genres will be trading blog spaces. It’s a chance to discover exciting new books.
Not only is there a grand fabulous Amazon prizeat the end of the tour but - EVERY WEEK - there will be a winner.
This week's prize is kindly donated by Christine London and details on how to win them are at the end of this post.
See who's taking part in this tour: here
Today's guest author is REGAN TAYLOR. You'll see much more of her on the tour, so today is an introduction:
2. What is your least favorite word? – No. But only when I’m being told no I can’t do something.
3. What turns you on? – a sweet, gentle, kinda shy smile.
4. What turns you off? – self-absorbed whiners.
5. What sound do you love? – The way my one kitty, Mr. Mel, meows.
6. What sound do you hate? – The alarm going off in the morning.
7. What is your favorite curse word? - Shit
8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt? – Oh gee, I’ve had a number of jobs from secretary to therapist to police dispatcher to sales clerk to author. I’ve taken dozens of classes because when something looks interesting to me I want to learn more about it and that seems the best way to get my feet wet.
9. What profession would you not like to do? – the person who cleans up the body parts in a morgue.
10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Dang it’s good the pagans are arriving so they can straighten this place out.
Regan Taylor - http://regantaylorsworld.blogspot.com
From With All Dispatch,
Book 2 of the Treasures Antique Series
When she woke before the alarm the next morning Molly took it as an omen that she had to face reality and check for some sort of communication from Carrie. Padding into Carrie’s room Molly shook her head at herself. Looking for omens was something Carrie did. If she saw or heard something three times Carrie was certain it meant she was supposed to do something about it. If Carrie had a dream about someone, she’d call them the next day.
Molly always prided herself on being reality based. It was black or it was white. No gray areas in her life. Sure, she’d go along with Carrie’s plans and schemes. Someone had to keep an eye on her friend and make sure nothing went south or someone got hurt. That was Molly’s job. Although Gareth, if Gareth weren’t in one of his weird costumes—nah. With his oddball talk and clothes he was the epitome of a Carrie-guy.
She paused at the threshold of Carrie’s room and drew in a deep breath. “Now or never. No more avoiding her room.”
Molly took two steps in, then another, before pausing to look around. She sucked in her upper lip and glanced around the room. Nothing had changed since the other morning when Carrie left her life in Napa behind. Drawing in a long, slow, deep breath Molly steeled her resolve. Send a note from the past. Ha! Magical thinking, Mr. Merle. Magical thinking. If I had any sense at all, I would have filed a missing person’s report first thing the other day. Time travel my ass.
With careful control, she surveyed the room, inch by inch. She nodded when her gaze fell on the antique desk. The old roll top was a favorite of Carrie’s. Despite her carefree and giving nature, Carrie seldom, if ever, tapped into her trust account. The desk was one of the rare occasions she’d pulled funds out of the account her parents left to her.
“Well, there’s the desk,” she told the empty room. “Let’s have at it, Molly. No, let’s not and say we did. Walk out of the room, pick up the phone and call the police and file a missing person’s report.”
She was sure she headed toward the door. So how did she end up in front of the desk? “Oh yeah, I changed my mind, didn’t I?”
Giving herself a moment she sat in the old wooden desk chair, another antique Carrie couldn’t resist. It fit perfectly with the desk even though it came from a different estate sale. Molly looked over the tidy surface: a pad of post-it notes, old-fashioned silver handled quill pen in a faux ink container, blotter, her phonebook, a reproduction of an 1800’s leather bound journal, and a picture of her family taken six years earlier, days before the car accident that killed the entire Taylor family except Carrie. For as dreamy as Carrie could be no one could ever say she lacked order in her life. She prided herself on how her books were organized—by genre in alphabetical order by author. No mean feat for someone with over ten thousand books in their collection. “Something else I’m going to have to deal with, unless I suddenly start reading romances. Okay, enough stalling, Tanner. Start looking in the drawers.”
Beginning with the top shelf Molly poked in each cubby, going through the papers neatly stuffed in each: receipts for books, CDs, grocery purchases, Taister’s appointment cards and some vet records, greeting cards for future birthdays and anniversaries, receipts for clothing she’d bought for Black Eagle. Molly stopped in her tracks when she pulled the last out. If there were receipts for men’s clothing surely Black Eagle’d been real. If he were real…
She moved to the little drawers, pulling each out in order. One held an assortment of paperclips, another, rubber bands, a third, stickers. “What a waste of time, I’m not going to find a letter from Carrie in here.” Molly studied the last drawer, telling herself the roiling of her stomach was because she had to go to work today and not fear of what she would find. “Come on, Mol, Carrie’s the one who believes in premonitions, not you. Open the drawer.”
She slowly drew the tiny wooden structure out and with a gasp, quickly slammed it. She took in a breath and once again, pulled the minuscule drawer out. A yellowish piece of paper, its edges tattered as if worn from age lay in the drawer. Her hand shaking ever so slightly Molly reached in and drew the paper out. Creased with age, it cracked just a bit when she began to unfold it.
I hope this letter finds you and finds you well. I’m sure my dis – sudden departure has caught you quite by surprise. I know it did me J. I’ve been so caught up in the romance of my time life here with Black Eagle I almost forgot about my life there in Napa. This afternoon Until today when Black Eagle told me I needed to write you and let you know I was I’m okay. I’m actually better than okay. Mr. Merle’s ancestor came by our home to say hello. Isn’t it interesting that he knew I’d arrived here? Just like in a time travel novel where there’s a character who knows what’s going on. I didn’t tell him I was from 2012. Well, I didn’t actually meet him I don’t want people to think I’m crazy and back now in the 1800’s someone would think I was crazy. Anyway, I asked how did Black Eagle think I could mail a letter that would reach you almost two hundred years in the future. He told me in Mr. Merle’s ancestor’s shop was a desk that looked just like the one in my room. He said it might even be the very one that’s there because it looks exactly like it. You know the little heart carved on the pull out shelf? The one on my desk? He said the same mark is on this one so maybe they are the same. If not, someone in the future is going to enjoy this letter, don’t you think? Anyway, I hope it reaches you so you will know both Taister and I are here with Black Eagle and we’re both very, very happy.
Molly, I’ve never been happier. Even without lattes, life is beyond wonderful. This is the life I have longed for. I hope you are well and Molly, I know you don’t believe in anything you can’t prove or explain. But Molly, love doesn’t always fit in a neat little box. When you meet the right man, and trust me, you will, hold on to him with both hands. Love makes magic real.
Take care. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write again or even if this letter will find you.
Molly studied the worn page. “This has got to be a joke. One huge joke. But who would play one this mean? Dean? He’s in the asylum, right? Julie? Nah, she doesn’t even know about Carrie and Black Eagle. Well who? Mr. Merle? He’s not mean.”
She rose and walked over to the bed and sat. “It has to be a joke. This just can’t be real. Can it?”
She read the note again. It was definitely Carrie’s handwriting and the talk about love and time travel epitomized Carrie’s thinking. “The newspaper! I can go to the library and bring up old newspapers from then and see if there are any pictures!”
Molly glanced at the clock, No time today. Let’s see, I’ll call Mr. Merle from work—no. If he’s playing a joke I don’t want to let him know I’ve found a clue. Tonight at work! I can log on at work tonight! During my dinner break when it’s all quiet I can do it. And screw Julie if she gets on me about using the department computer. What’s she going to do? Write me up? Or Kris might go on another suck-along tonight and I can log in on her station so it’s under her ID. She can do whatever she damn well pleases. Yeah. In fact, I’ll even suggest to Lively he ask her to ride again. Man, first I know about Black Eagle’s fake ID that wasn’t really fake and now I’m planning to use Kris’ ID. What’s next in my life of crime?
Pleased with her plan Molly dressed in a favorite navy blue turtleneck and black jeans and headed out to work. Maybe by tomorrow morning she’d know if she could be happy at Carrie’s note or not.
For a change, luck was on her side. Molly didn’t even have to suggest to Lively to take Kris for a ride. Ole PBL decided she was going before Molly showed up. As soon as Shannon left for the day Molly headed into dispatch and sat down at Kris’ terminal. Janette glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like you sitting with me is becoming a habit.”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it? You busy over there?”
“No. Typical Sunday night. Zero to none in traffic.”
“Cool. I’ve got some research I need to do so give me a holler if you need me.”
Within seconds Molly was logged into the library’s newspaper archives. One of the pluses living in the Bay Area was the Link program with the library where she could access all kinds of obscure information including old newspapers. Not that they were obscure. They simply weren’t anything most people would dig through. Especially to find out if their best friend was now living a hundred and sixty years in the past.
Scanning through her choices Molly finally found the paper she was looking for. Speeding through page after page, quickly checking each picture she was about to give up when a picture of an Indian holding a black cat appeared on the screen. There they were, Black Eagle, Carrie and Taister. All of them were smiling, even Taister if you knew his different expressions. In the photograph he was wearing his “I just had steak” look, one of his heavy duty purr times. “Damn, it is real.”
“Huh?” Janette rolled her chair over to Molly’s console. “Say, isn’t that your roommate? The one who moved away?”
“Um, uh, no. Actually it’s a great-great aunt or something. Carrie emailed me to tell me she found this awesome picture of an ancestor of hers. They sure look alike, don’t they?” Molly carefully moved the page down just far enough to hide the print below the picture.
“They sure do. Of course I only met your roommate at the department picnic last summer. From what I remember though they sure do look alike.”
|When We Were Amazing by Christine London|
*******THIS WEEK'S PRIZE!!!!
Christine London is donating an ARC (Advance Review Copy) of Lisa Jackson's Aug 1, 2012 release "You Don't Want To Know" AND PDF of Christine's When We Were Amazing. Take a look at Christine's blog.
HOW DO YOU WIN THE PRIZE? Tell me (in the comments below) who Christine is hosting on her blog for the first stop of this event?