Friday, July 26, 2013

Fifth and Final Day of the Blogger Book Fair with Michelle Birbeck

Well today is the last day of the Blogger Book Fair. I hope you are ready for my last guest author from the fair. Today I have with me Michelle Birbeck.
Dawn:Michelle, it is great to have you with me today.  First tell us a little about yourself.  Your likes and dislikes, your favorite foods, your special pets? What makes you…you?

Michelle: Pizza! And chocolate. Or even better, chocolate and marshmallow pizza, with sliced bananas on top. And now I’m hungry… Anyway! About me, well, I got married when I was 18 and everyone told me it would never last. Twelve years later, and my husband and I are still happily married, with our newly toothless cat, Loki, and our adorable bunny rabbit, Poppy.

I love my book collection, which spans the whole house, and my faeries, which also span the entire house. Things I hate are thunder, but only when I’m inside. If I’m outside, then I’m fine with it, and I love watching for lightning.

And that’s me! Well, part of me, anyway.  

Dawn: What is the title of your current work and what is it about?

Michelle: I have a couple of books out at the moment, both in the same series. The first is called The Last Keeper, and its sequel is called Last Chance. Both are available for all ereaders and in paperback, and are paranormal novels.  

Buy Links:


The Last Keeper

Serenity Cardea's race has been hunted to near extinction. She's a Keeper, with the ability to influence others, including those immortal beings who want dominance over the world. Ray Synclair is a history professor in training with a passion for times past. Fascinated by Serenity, he has no idea that the world is filled with immortals, most of whom want him dead. Because the only way to kill a Keeper is to kill their partner...

Last Chance

With her race saved from the brink of extinction, Serenity’s life could not be better. Married, finally, to Ray, and back in London for the first time in a century, retirement isn’t coming easy. Being a housewife was never in her make up.

But when Lizzy calls to say the Keepers’ records have been stolen, retirement is preferable over the danger they now face.

Targets once more, Serenity’s isn’t inclined to sit back and let her brothers and sisters face the losses she witnessed, but the order to move an entire race comes at a price.

Whoever is behind the threat, they show none of the mercy The Seats once did. No broken families left to suffer the loss of parents, aunts, uncles. This time they’ve gone too far, and when they take the lives of the race’s children, Serenity’s mind is made up.
This time they will be no threats, no mercy.

     This time there’ll be no survivors.


Dawn: How long did have you been writing and when did you know that writing was what you wanted to do? What kind of writer are you, a plotter or a pantser?

Michelle: I started writing when I was in school, just daft little bits and pieces, but then when I got married, work took up most of my time, and it wasn’t until I left work that I really took it up again. That was six years ago now, and ever since then, I have been writing as often as possible.

As for what type of writer I am… a bit of both. If I have a very tight deadline, then I like to have an idea of where I am going, because otherwise, I keep thinking I’ve forgotten to include one of the plot points. But for the most part, I like making it up as I go along. And no matter which way I write, there are always a high number of little bits and pieces that will pop us as I’m writing and take me by surprise.  

Dawn: Share your social profiles with us. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest…where do you spend your cyber-time?

Michelle: I spend a lot of time on twitter, and even more time than I should on Tumblr. You can find me here:

Dawn: If you could travel to any-where or any-when…when and where would that be? What would you do when you got there?

Michelle: I’ve seen a lot of people answer this question with Hogwarts or Narnia, but though I love Narnia, neither of those really appeal to me. If I had the choice of absolutely anywhere, I would have to choose the holodeck of Star Trek. Not because there is any particular person there that I want to me, but because everyone I ever wanted to meet could be there. I could input all the books I love and all the times and places I want to visit and go be part of them.

That, and the whole travelling through space sounds like so much fun!

      Dawn: What draws you to the genre or genres in which you write?

Michelle: I adore the paranormal genre. Vampires, witches, wereanimals… there are just so many things that you can do with them. So many little changes that alter their whole dynamic. I love that I can take any time period, any country, and throw in some paranormal and supernatural creatures and have a whole new story. The genre, to me, seems to endless with the things that you can do with it.
      Dawn: Who is your favorite author and why? Which book speaks to you the most?

Michelle: My favourite author is Richard Laymon. I have all of his books, and I love every single one of them. They have their own shelf in amongst my books, and I have a whole load of first and signed editions, too.

If I had to pick one book of his that I love the most, it would be The Lake. I adore the way all the bits and pieces of the plot twist about and come together in the end. Seeing the past influence the present in the way that it does was fantastic, and I have read the book several times since I discovered it.

       Dawn: What do you like to listen to when you write? Music, TV, silence?

Michelle: I have to have my music on. Doesn’t matter what, as I have an eclectic selection to choose from, but it has to be music. The TV distracts me and makes my mind wander, and silence is even worse for doing that. So for me, it has to be music. For some reason it focuses my mind and helps me keep at it longer.

Also, I love to sing. I’m not any good at it, but I still love to do it, at the top of my voice.

       Dawn: When do you find the time to write? Are you an early morning person or a late at night 

Michelle: Early and late evening are the times for me. Mornings and I don’t get along very well. Mornings like to try and wake me up when the sun is still attempting to rise, but I fight back most of the time and lie in as long as I can. That way I can stay up later and get more writing done. Although, I prefer summer mornings to winter. At least in the summer the mornings are light and bright. I can’t stand having to get up on a winter’s morning when it’s still dark and cold.

But for editing and interviews and blog posts, it has to be late morning and early afternoon. That seems to be my work portion of the day, the time when I get all the non-writing bits out of the way. Then I get to spend the rest of my night in my own head making things up.
      Dawn: Tell me about any promotions or contests you are running? Where can we go to sign up  
      and what are the rules?

Michelle: There are a couple of promotions that I am part of at the moment. The first being the Smashwords Summer/Winter sale. My short stories are now all free to download for this month only, and my second book, Last Chance, is half price!

You can also check out to see when her big 1000 like giveaway is, as there will be a chance to win a copy of my first book, The Last Keeper, as well as some signed bookmarks! There will also be chances to win a whole host of other goodies from other authors.


Dawn: Michelle, I want to thank you for being with me today.  I enjoyed learning about your book and look forward to reading it.
Thank you all for joining us on the Blogger Book Fair and thanks to everyone who voted in the Reader's Choice Awards. Please check out our winners at 


Thursday, July 25, 2013

Day Four of the Blogger Book Fair with Marsha Canham

I hope everyone is having a great time with all the authors from the Blogger Book Fair. We have had some exciting books so far. Today my guest is here to sweep us away on a journey. Come fly with us as we travel Through A Dark Mist with my guest Marsha Canham. Marsha, it is great to have you with me today.
This year's Blogger Book Fair theme is to let your imagination travel to far-away places. Since I love to travel, but can't always match my wishes with my budget, I let my writing take me where ships and planes can't go. Even better, since I write historical romances, I can sail the high seas in breeches and a cambric shirt, ride the moonlit moors as a highwayman, stalk the Highlands of Scotland in a kilt or...visit the dark forests and castles of medieval England.

Through A Dark Mist is book one in a trilogy of stories I wrote based around my interpretation of the legendary forest thief known as Robin Hood. Since there was no such person in existence, and since most of the history of that time was passed down through songs and poems told by travelling bards, Robin Hood was most likely a composite of many heroic stories attributed to the same man. As the stories and songs were passed down from generation to generation, his legend grew, as did the feats of his "merry men". In my trilogy, I researched the period thoroughly and found how the many *real* stories and characters could possibly have been combined to produce the Robin Hood created by those bards so many centuries ago.

Here is an excerpt from Through A Dark Mist:

Servanne glanced slantwise at the men who comprised the bulk of her escort. They all looked as if they broke their nightly fasts by chewing nails, and as if they could and did slit throats for the sheer pleasure of it.

Which raised another question, and another icy spray of gooseflesh along her arms. Why were such fearsomely huge and bestial men flinching at every snapped twig and crinkling leaf they passed?

Servanne did not have to wait long for the answer. A faint hiss and whonk broke the silence of the forest; a gasp, followed by an agonized cry of pain sent a guard careening sideways out of his saddle, his gauntleted hand clutched around the shaft of an arrow protruding from his chest. A half dozen more grisly whonks struck in close succession, each resulting in a grunt of expended air and a bitten-off cry of pain.

Shouting an alert, Bayard of Northumbria cursed loudly and voraciously at the ineptness of the scouts he had dispatched ahead to insure against the possibility of just such an ambush occurring. In the next wild breath, he reasoned that, without a doubt, they must be as dead as the ox-brained incompetents who had allowed their concentration to wander to the curves and smiles of a flock of tittering women rather than remain fixed on the deadly dangers of the forest.

A second round of curses forced Bayard to acknowledge how efficiently the trap had been laid and sprung. Four of his best scouts had been silenced, seven guards already dead or dying, the rest of the cavalcade corralled and surrounded in a matter of seconds, with no real or visible targets yet in evidence.

“Lay down your weapons!”

The command was shouted from somewhere high up in the trees and Bayard’s gaze shot upward, rewarded by nothing but swaying branches and splintered sunlight.

“Bows and swords to the ground or you shall all win the privilege of joining your fallen comrades!”

The breath hissed through Bayard’s teeth with impotent fury. His keen eyes searched the greenwood but he could see nothing—no pale flash of skin or clothing, no movement in the trees or on the ground. A further lightning-quick glance identified the arrows protruding from the chests of the dead soldiers. Slim and deadly, almost three feet long and tipped in steel, they were capable of piercing bullhide or mail breastplates as if they were cutting through cheese. Moreover, the arrows were shot from the taut strings of the Welsh contraptions known as longbows. In the hands of an expert, an arrow shot from a longbow could outdistance the squatter, thicker quarrels fired from a crossbow by a hundred yards or more. Many a train of merchants had been waylaid and fired upon from such a distance that they could not even distinguish their attackers from the trees.

As was the case now, Bayard thought angrily. He and his men were like ducks on a pond and, unwilling to fall helplessly to a slaughter, he had no choice but to reluctantly give his men the signal to lower their weapons.

“Who dares to challenge our right of way?” the captain demanded, his voice a low, seething growl. “Who is this dead man? Let him step forward and show his face!”

A laugh, full and deep-throated, had the same effect on the tension-filled atmosphere as a sudden crack of thunder.

Servanne de Briscourt, her hand tightly clasped to Biddy’s and her shoulders firmly encircled by the fierce protectiveness of a matronly arm, was startled enough by the unexpected sound to twist her head around and search out the source of the laughter.

A man had stepped out from behind the screen of hawthorns and had moved to position himself brazenly in the middle of the road. His long legs, clad in skin-tight deer-hide leggings, were braced wide apart; his massive torso, made more impressive by a jerkin of gleaming black wolf pelts, expanded farther as he insolently planted one hand on his waist and the other on the curved support of the longbow he held casually by his side.

Standing well over six feet tall, his body was a superb tower of muscle that commanded the eye upward to the coldest, cruellest pair of eyes Servanne had ever seen. Pale blue-gray, they were, twin mirrors of ice and frost, steel and iron. Piercing eyes. Eyes that held more secrets than a soul should want to know, or, if knowing, would live to tell. They were strange eyes for so dark a man—hair, clothing, and weathered complexion all combined to make it so—and it was with the greatest difficulty that Servanne relented to the tugging pressure of Biddy’s hands and turned her face away, burying it against the muffling shield of ponderously soft bosoms.

    “I bid you welcome to my forest, Bayard of Northumbria.” The villain laughed softly again. “Had I known in advance it was you daring to venture across my land, I should have arranged a much warmer welcome.”

My website is

I am on Facebook as well:

And my blog, Caesars Through the Fence 

Through a Dark Mist can be found at


Barnes and Noble:  visit my website

find me on Twitter @marshacanham

Thank you Marsha, I have enjoyed having you with me and I look forward to reading your work.

Everyone please go check out all the other great blogs and meet the rest of the authors at the Blogger Book Fair this year by clicking the picture below.

Blogger Book Fair

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Day three of the Blogger Book Fair Lily Bishop

Welcome to day three. I hope you are having a great time on this Blogger Book Fair. I know I have enjoyed meeting all the great authors.

Dawn: It is great to have you with me today.  First tell us a little about yourself.  Your likes and dislikes, your favorite foods, your special pets? What makes you…you?

Lily Bishop: 

I grew up in Georgia, but I live in South Carolina. I lived in Indiana for a year after college, but I missed the warm climate in the South, so I returned to Georgia. I’m a happily married mom of two and I work full-time. I love Mexican food, and I hate to exercise which isn’t a good combination. Our family has a cat, but she likes my husband more than she likes me.

Dawn: What is the title of your current work and what is it about?

Lily Bishop:  No Strings Attached is the story of a one-night stand gone wrong. Laura is an administrative assistant from Miami attending a conference in Las Vegas. While she is there, she has a hot fling with Fox Thornton, a consultant from Atlanta. She never plans to see him again. Back in Miami on Monday, she learns that her boss has been fired, Fox Thornton has been hired to be the new director at her office, and her company is in financial trouble.  Once Fox starts working with the Miami client, he immediately suspects embezzlement, and all clues point to Laura.  Is she the diligent hard-working assistant that she led him to believe, or is she hiding other secrets?

Buy Links:

Currently No Strings Attached is available in print and ebook from Amazon.

Amazon US (print and digital):

Amazon UK (print and digital):


Fox Thornton stared at the cards nestled against the green felt. Focus, man, focus. Something had to change. A fun hand of blackjack had turned into a bloodbath. After being in meetings all day, he had planned a quick hand of blackjack, but two hours later, he had lost more than he intended. He blamed his losses on the gorgeous blonde at the end of the table and her sexy silver dress. How could he leave with her if she made no effort to leave?

Her hair reminded him of wheat in summer and it curled around her shoulders with a devil-may-care attitude. Her eyes shone like dark amber whiskey and glowed with an inner fire when she smiled—which was often—and frequently in his direction. She leaned forward and he caught a glimpse of a little dark hollow between her breasts. He stifled a groan.

He shifted position to relieve the pressure caused by a wave of desire. How long had it been since he'd been this hard for a stranger? Not since college ten years ago. As she considered the cards, her tongue peeked between rosy lips. What a turn-on.

Fox looked for any of the managers he knew from the remodel, and saw James, a pit boss who had joined him for drinks one night. He sent him a text and then moved over to the vacant seat beside her.

"The luck's better over here," he said with a smile, but then he cut his eyes away, not wanting to appear too eager. She spared him a quick glance before turning back to her cards.

Sitting beside her made things worse. He smelled roses every time she moved, and now he had a full view of her long, tanned legs. One of her legs bounced up and down, betraying her nervousness. He blocked out the image of those legs wrapped around his waist or he would never be able to stand. As soon as James closed the table, he would ask her to dinner.

Her bizarre play was screwing up the natural order of the cards. She laughed when the cards fell her way, and when they didn't, she seemed stunned, as if she should be able to predict the card order.

If anyone else had been playing that inconsistently, he would have switched tables and cut his losses. Now he was so intrigued he couldn't walk away without a phone number.

The girl's strapless dress fit against her like a second skin, and he couldn't look away. While they waited for the next round of cards, she fidgeted with a silver-threaded scarf. He could imagine that scarf in his hands as he pulled her to him ... He had to get control of himself.

When the waitress brought drinks, he took care of the tip, and his blonde beauty flashed him a smile. When she won for the third time in as many hands, he saluted her with a flourish. She repaid him by blowing him a kiss. Now he had her attention.

Dawn: How long did have you been writing and when did you know that writing was what you wanted to do? What kind of writer are you, a plotter or a pantser?

Lily Bishop: I have always been a writer. I wrote my first novel in high school, my second in college, and a third right after I got married. This is the first one that I’ve felt was ready for prime time. I come up with a general idea of where the plot is going, but often my characters take me different places.

Dawn: Share your social profiles with us. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest…where do you spend your cyber-time?

Lily Bishop: I try to blog regularly, and I spent time on Twitter. I am still working on what kind of things readers want to see on my Facebook page.


Twitter: @bishoplily

Dawn: If you could travel to any-where or any-when…when and where would that be? What would you do when you got there?

Lily Bishop: I would love to visit England and Scotland tour some of the historic castles. I love historic sites.

Dawn: What draws you to the genre or genres in which you write?

Lily Bishop: I love romance, but it seems that I’m always adding something else in, whether it’s a theft, death threats, or trying to recover from an abusive past. While I love history, I don’t want to do the detailed research necessary for a historical, and vampires aren’t my thing.

Who is your favorite author and why? Which book speaks to you the most?

Lily Bishop: I read all kinds of authors and books. My favorite of all time is Margaret Mitchell and Gone With the Wind. I grew up reading about Scarlett, and that book made a HUGE impression on me growing up.

What do you like to listen to when you write? Music, TV, silence?

Lily Bishop: I have a son starting middle school and a daughter starting fifth grade, so if I waited for silence I’d never write! I can write with the television in the background if it’s not a show I’m interested in, although if I’m stuck just about anything is more interesting than the blank screen.

When do you find the time to write? Are you an early morning person or a late at night writer?

Lily Bishop: I write in the car on long trips, I write at night, and when I’m waiting at kid’s activities that don’t need my immediate attention, like dance practice.

Tell me about any promotions or contests you are running? Where can we go to sign up and what are the rules?

Lily Bishop: Everyone who comments on my blog this week at (July 22-26) will be entered in a drawing for a ten dollar Amazon gift card.

Thank you for being with me today.  I enjoyed learning about your book and look forward to reading it.

Thanks for having me!

Monday, July 22, 2013

Day one Blogger Book Fair with Jacquie Rogers

It is my great pleasure to be apart of the Blogger Book Fair. As we kick off the week long celebration I get the joy to introduce to you a great author. For this first day I have with me Jacquie Rogers.
      Dawn: Jacquie, it is great to have you with me today.  First tell us a little about yourself.  Your likes and dislikes, your favorite foods, your special pets? What makes you…you? 

      Jacquie: Thanks, Dawn!  It’s great to be a guest on your blog and participate in the Blogger Book Fair.   
      Likes: the smell of sagebrush, wind rustling through the junipers, baseball, rodeo, and hitting the bulls-eye.  I love reading an action-packed novel that makes me laugh and sigh. 
      Dislikes: Macaroni and cheese, cleaning house, and over-bearing people. 
      Pets: we have one cat named Annie who was feral when we got her thirteen years ago, and only now will let us pick her up and pet her.  But she’s a sweetheart, even if she’s a little scaredy. 
      Me: I’m outgoing in some situations and a quivering coward in others—sometimes I’m surprised by which is which.  I grew up on a dairy farm in Owyhee County, Idaho, which is where my Hearts of Owyhee series
( is set.  It seemed a natural thing since that area isn’t far removed in culture and deed from the wild west, and I use some of my experiences in my fiction.

      Dawn: What is the title of your current work and what is it about?

      Jacquie: My latest release is a traditional western short story, Muleskinners: Judge Not, in the Wolf Creek, Book 6: Hell On The Prairie anthology. 
Before that, I released another short story, a time travel to the future romance, titled Single Girls Can’t Jump. 
But my latest novel is the third book in the Hearts of Owyhee series, Much Ado About Mavericks. 
     Here’s the blurb: 

Benjamin Lawrence is a highly respected attorney in Boston, but in Idaho Territory, they still think of him as that gangly awkward boy named Skeeter. When he goes back home to settle his estate, he's confronted with a ridiculous will that would be easy to overturn--but can he win the regard of his family and neighbors--and the foreman?
      The Bar EL's foreman, Janelle Kathryn aka J.K. aka Jake O'Keefe, is recognized as the best foreman in the territory. But being the best at her job still isn't enough--now she has to teach the new owner how to rope, brand, and work cattle before she receives clear title to her own ranch, the Circle J. The last thing she expects is rustlers. Can she save her ranch without losing her heart?


Buy Links:



Much Ado About Mavericks

Copyright © 2013 Jacquie Rogers 

      Ben Lawrence could hardly wait to see his mother and sister, even if his stomach soured every time he thought about his childhood home.  But he had to take care of the family and ranch now that his father had died.  Worse, he had to contend with Jake O’Keefe because Pa thought his own son too incompetent to hire good people, even after four years at Harvard and nine years of practicing law. 

      The soda was refreshing and he took his time while she waited, not patiently, shifting her weight from left to right, then tossing a few pebbles. 

      “I think we should reintroduce ourselves.”  He placed the mug on the boardwalk and offered his hand.  “How do you do?  I’m Benjamin Lawrence, visiting from Boston.” 

      “Janelle Kathryn.”  She grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.  “I’m surely pleased to meet you.” 

      He tested his shoulder to see if it still functioned after her hearty handshake.  Then, just to knock her off guard, he took her hand and kissed the back of it with grandiose gallantry.  “My pleasure, Miss Janelle.”


      Jumpin’ juniper berries!  Jake snatched her scorching hand away from Skeeter’s lips.  His well-placed little smacker burned hotter than a branding iron in August.    Only better, but she sure as shootin’ wouldn’t admit it to a soul.  Ever.  Of course, she had no intention of washing her hand for a month either.  That hot kiss sent goosebumps clean down to her toes. 

      She sucked in a deep breath and cleared her throat.  “Let’s go.”  She hopped onto the wagon and picked up the reins. 

      Ben leapt onto the seat and took the reins from her.  “I’ll drive.”

      His thigh rubbed hers.  She didn’t know how he could think right if he tingled anything like she did.  But, he probably didn’t.  She inched away from him as the buckboard moved out of town.  She focused on the sagebrush—at least it didn’t knock her plumb senseless.  He was too damned good-looking in a dandified sort of way.  Taller than she was, too, by a few inches.  Few men were.  She stood even with Whip, who, although bent with years of hard work, was taller than the rest of the men. 

      It ate at her that Skeeter muddled her mind so, and she had no idea what got into her to tell him her real name.  She’d better set him straight. 

      “Just so’s you know, I ain’t no simpering female.  Folks around here call me Jake.  Jake O’Keefe.  I expect you ought to call me that, too.” 

      She nearly laughed at his horrified expression. 

     “Jake O’Keefe?  My foreman?” 

      Just what she needed—a greenhorn who didn’t think she could do a man’s work.  Well hell, she’d already proven herself better than any hand in the territory, and she wasn’t about to do it again—especially to a feller they called Skeeter.  “Yup.  And just so’s you know, Harley Blacker hired me on with the Flying B, so as soon as I show you the ropes, I’ll be leaving the Bar EL.” 

      He set his lips firm like he was cogitating.  She didn’t know what there was to think about—she’d laid out the deal square enough. 

      Finally, he said, “All right then, Jake, just so you know, my name is Ben.  Benjamin Lawrence.  I expect to be called that.”  His jaw tensed and his cheek twitched just a might.  “And I’d appreciate it if you’d stay on the Bar EL, at least until I get the family affairs settled.  I’ll be going back to Boston as soon as I can.” 

      “Got a woman?”  Jake could’ve slapped her own fool face.  Why the hell would she care?  But that tickly feeling deep inside seemed to make her lose all her brains. 

      “I have a law practice there.  And friends.”  He pulled on the right reins and flicked the left side, turning the team onto the Lawrence road.  “A lady friend, too.” 

      Probably some frilly-assed, sappy female who batted her eyelashes at him and giggled at any harebrained thing he said.  Men seemed to like such silly critters, although, for the life of her, she couldn’t see why.  “Well, I ain’t staying, so you’d better be on the lookout for a new foreman.  Fred’s probably your man—he’s been sourer than five-day-old pissed-in milk since the old man chose me over him.” 

      “Don’t want him.  I need you.” 


      “How much is Blacker paying you?” 

      “Eighty dollars and found.” 

     “I’ll give you a hundred.” 

      She shook her head.  “One-twenty and found.”


      “And found—ain’t interested in eating my own cooking.”  She’d starve to death if she did.  Whip had taught her how to rope, shoot, and just about everything else, but he never could teach her how to cook.  Every concoction she had tried ended up looking and smelling like fresh-branded cowhide.  Not that she’d wanted to learn in the first damned place. 

      He nodded.  “And found.” 

      “I’ll take it.  Six months I’ll give you.  But come spring, I’m working my own ranch, so you better get used to the idea.” 

      “One-twenty and found for any months you work after six.” 

      “I ain’t budging.” 

      “All right, for now I’ll take six months at a hundred and ten dollars and found.  Shake?” 

      She wasn’t so sure she wanted to feel his hand on hers again—more dangerous than a rattlesnake with a toothache.  Grabbing his hand, she gave it one shake and let go immediately, wiping her hand on her pants.  “Deal.” 

      But it would be a helluva long six months if she buzzed like her guts were filled with bumblebees every time Ben Lawrence took a gander at her. 

      Dawn: Awesome excerpt. How long did have you been writing and when did you know that writing was what you wanted to do? What kind of writer are you, a plotter or a pantser? 

      Jacquie: My mother wanted me to be a writer so of course I did everything I could think of except write, and only started about 15 years ago.  So I’m not one of those who say they were born with pencils in their hands.  As for how I go about creating a story, it all starts with characters and I don’t write a single word until I understand my characters as well as myself.  Then I plot out the bones of the story, write out a few scene ideas along the way—but then it’s all seat-of-the pants.  So 50/50. 

      Dawn: Share your social profiles with us. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest…where do you spend your cyber-time? 

      Jacquie:  I’m on Facebook more than the others, but it’s frustrating because I’m at my friends limit, so I’ll include the link to my author page.



Jacquie Rogers, Author:

      Dawn: If you could travel to any-where or any-when…when and where would that be? What would you do when you got there? 
      Jacquie: That’s a hard one because I’d like to go everywhere, just about any time—it’s all fascinating to me.  I’d love to visit Ancient Greece and before that, Ancient Babylonia.  But since I write Westerns, the first place I’d like to visit would be Silver City, Idaho Territory, in the early 1880s.  Some things just can’t be learned from books—daily life of those who were never written about, for instance.  It would be interesting to follow a rancher’s wife around all day (if I had the stamina!), and the rancher, too.  I’d love to go on a wild horse roundup.  Then there’s town life.  The general store’s contents would tell me a lot, and who wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall in a saloon or brothel?  

      Dawn: What draws you to the genre or genres in which you write?  

      Jacquie: For the Westerns, it would be the fiercely independent spirit and can-do attitude that I so admire.  The lawlessness and resulting moral code interests me.  Rooster Cogburn might not have been a model citizen, but he never waivered from his personal moral code. 

      For my Fantasy stories (Faery Special Romances and others), I’m drawn by the magic.  Life is magic but we mostly ignore it, so in fiction we can magnify it and even glorify it.  Besides, I’d love to clean my house with a twitch of my nose like Samantha Stevens in Bewitched! 

      Dawn: Who is your favorite author and why? Which book speaks to you the most?

      Jacquie: I have never read by author and in fact, I’m pathetically name-challenged, so rarely ever remember the titles or authors of the books I’ve read.  That said, there are a few that stick in my mind, the first being Mary Renault and her novels set in Ancient Greece.  Great books, all, my favorite being The King Must Die.  Western authors: Louis L’Amour is the king, of course.  Currently, I’m reading books by Troy D. Smith and James Reasoner, and am also drawn to books by Robert Randisi and others.  For a list of who’s who in western fiction, go to the Western Fictioneers site ( and click on Members.  In Romance, there’s Leigh Greenwood, Maggie Osbourne, Kathleen Eagle, Gerri Russell, Gina Robinson, Heather Hiestand, and in Mystery, there’s Ann Charles and Wendy Delaney (new author).  A slew more.  

      But like I said, I don’t choose books by author or title.  I read the blurb, click on Look Inside, and whatever interests me, I buy.  

      Dawn: What do you like to listen to when you write? Music, TV, silence?  

      Jacquie: Usually, I listen to four little boys fight.  Peace and quiet would sure be nice.
     Dawn: When do you find the time to write? Are you an early morning person or a late at night writer? 

      Jacquie: Night owl.  I write from 10pm to 5am, and go to bed around 6am. 

      Dawn: Tell me about any promotions or contests you are running? Where can we go to sign up and what are the rules? 

      Jacquie: Besides the Blogger Book Fair, I’m in the Western Roundup Giveaway Hop.  I’m giving away several books and you can find out more at Romancing The West:


It’s been fun today, Dawn, and once again, I’d like to thank you for hosting me on your blog for the Blogger Book Fair.  I hope everyone checks out your post on my blog at


      Jacquie Rogers, thank you for being with me today.  I enjoyed learning about your book and look forward to reading it.
      Check out Jacquie's blog at
and come back to see me tomorrow to meet my guest Zrink Jelic.