Patricia’s Occasional Newsletter (distributed only by request)

from author Patricia Crossley, www.patriciacrossley.com Please stop by for a visit, read some of my extracts and reviews & pick up some free downloads. email patricia@patriciacrossley.com,

April 2, 2003

Where does the year go? Already the days are getting longer, there is more warmth in the sun and this weekend we change the clocks.

Before I begin, I want to mention that I have had intermittent problems with my server over the past few days. This is one reason why the notification of contest winners and the sending of this newsletter was delayed. If you have trouble accessing the site, please accept my apologies and keep trying! I am assured it will improve.

This newsletter has a real mixture of news about many different kinds of books. My subscribers now number well over 500 and I'm honoured that so many have stayed with me. This month I can point you towards some inspirational books, some fantasy stories and some young adult literature.

I have some news for those of you who like "romantica." My short story "Fantasy Island" has been chosen for the first romantica anthology from Liquid Silver Books. http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/ (For over 18 years )

NovelBooks www.novelbooksinc.com who publish my paranormal romance "Beloved Stranger" has announced a reduction in price for trade paperbacks. This is a great opportunity. Scroll down for an extract from "Beloved Stranger" then visit Novel Books for more great deals.

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Scrolling down this month's newsletter you will find:
- an extract from "Beloved Stranger"
- a story to reflect on: "The Wooden Bowl"
- an introduction to two authors
-an extract from a young adult book
- contest winners for March
- the new contest for April


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‛Beloved Stranger' is published by Novel Books (http://www.novelbooks.com) In electronic and paperback formats

An old house in the Ontario woods, a mysterious stranger who seems eerily familiar, an ancient murder that must be solved. . .
Sarah MacMillan seeks honesty and truth in her work and in her life and finds what she needs: the family's ancestral home begging to be renovated with love and furnished with precious antiques. Pierre Martin is an undercover Mountie with a job to do: to check out the suspicious new owner of the old house. Ghostly voices drive Pierre and Sarah to solve the haunting mystery of their connection with the builder of the house, risking everything, even their lives.

Excerpt:

Sarah emerged from the back of the wagon, dragging a large box toward the edge of the tailgate. She straightened to face him, flushed from her exertion, and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead.
"Hi. You came back."
"Bonjour," he said and put out his hand to take hers. "Did you doubt that I would?"
Sarah let her hand rest in his a moment while a small exquisite shiver ran up her arm from her finger tips, like the quiver that sometimes ran through her when she touched a beautiful piece of antique porcelain. Hastily she withdrew from his touch, seeking for something to say to break the momentary tension. "This is Jan Holmes. She's come to help with the renovation for a few days."
She watched him as he turned to smile at Jan and take her friend’s hand. What was it about him that had sent her into a tailspin the first time she saw him and that had caused that reaction today? He wore jeans and a loose shirt now rather than the suit and white shirt that had looked so out of place in this setting the day before and she had to admit, he looked just as good.
"I could help," he said. "I'm pretty good at carrying things." He pointed to the wooden crate in the trunk.
Before she could answer, he bent to hoist the box. She opened her mouth to tell him not to bother, to leave her property alone, but Jan was already thanking him. Her friend was right, it would be churlish to refuse, and the box was heavy.
Sarah shrugged resignedly. "Why not?” she said. "Follow me." She rolled her eyes at Jan and turned towards the house.
She led him through the front door and waved him towards the stairs. "Up there, please," she said and stood aside to let him pass.
The box was destined for the master bedroom, and Pierre carried it easily up the wide oak staircase. She followed, tried to keep her mind on the antique brass bowl and stand cradled in his arms. She certainly wouldn't think of the strong shoulders and flexing glutes that were in her immediate line of sight.
He hesitated at the top of the stairs, turned and lifted an eyebrow. "Which way?"
She stepped past him, ignoring the little flutter that ruffled her senses as her arm brushed his. "In here."
She’d finished the bedroom a couple of weeks ago, choosing willow pattern white and blue, the blue of a summer sky against puffy clouds. The wood floor gleamed, the lacy curtains moved gently in the faint breeze. It was an oasis of peace and serenity.
"Just put it on the floor."
He bent to comply, and Sarah tore her gaze from his back and thighs as he moved. He was suddenly very male, very overpowering in this room she'd made to suit her taste, to serve as a refuge for her alone. He was invading her space. She had a sudden picture of him removing his shirt, watching her on the bed. What was the matter with her every time she saw this man? She’d always avoided all the 'girl chat' about men, and had never been one to speculate about the sexual potential of every male she met.
She heard a movement behind her and turned to see Jan in the doorway, puzzlement in her eyes as she looked from one to the other.
"How about some iced tea?" she said quickly. "Or a beer?"
"Iced tea sounds great." He smiled and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "Lead the way."
Sarah stepped to the stairs, silently thanking Jan for the interruption. She had to get him out of her bedroom before her mind played more tricks, but she was uncomfortably conscious of his every movement behind her as she took him back down the stairs and into the kitchen.


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The Wooden Bowl
I think at the moment we are all a little more reflective, a little more conscious of the value of our loved ones. I wanted to share with you a story:

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.

Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear In his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?"

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor
wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

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An inspirational writer:
Let me introduce you to Edward Arnold, one of my fellow finalists in the EPPIE Awards 2003. Eddie's book ‛Rebecca' was a Finalist for Best Inspirational Book. In addition Rebecca was selected as one of the books highlighted in the First Annual Celebration of Inspirational Authors held in conjunction with the Southern Festival of Books - October 2002

You can read more about Edward and his books at www.computer-classics.com

Or do you prefer fantasy?
Next amongst my writing friends is Jenna Kay Francis. URL homepage: http://www.geocities.com/jennakayfrancis

Jenna writes fantasy romance and has sent this information about her books:
Free Spirit - Bought as a slave by an elf of exquisite beauty, Diesa fights for her freedom. But can she really be free when her heart and soul already belong to him?

A Gift of Blood - Jaeger has vowed to never take human blood. But now, with his Growth upon him, he cannot deny his thirst. Rhiannon is a witch, who needs to be bled to keep from dying. Can these two find more than a business relationship?

From the Heart - Baris has everything he ever dreamed of. But that is all threatened by a vengeful witch, Deirdre. Wooed and spelled, Baris soon finds his life plunged into darkness, murder and drugs.

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Here is an excerpt from NO RAIN, NO RAINBOWS, Betty Jo Schuler's Eppie finalist Young Adult Anthology and from one of the stories called "Meet Captain Cool."

"Hi!" The word popped up on my computer screen. "I saw you were online and thought we would make a perfect match."
The name that appeared on the chatroom list was CaptCool.
I smiled because I'd signed on as HotChick. "Hi," I typed, my fingers a bit shaky because of my natural shyness. Then I added, LOL (laughing out loud), to let him know I knew he was making a joke. "I didn't know any boys were on here."
SixTeen was typically a girls' chatroom, and I sometimes got on there to gossip with teens I didn't know. I'd been sitting there waiting with my cursor blinking and my name showing that I was the only one online so far.
"Do I know you?" he typed. "Do you go to Hillside High?"
I did, but my parents had lectured me for hours on end about not getting get involved with anyone on the internet. I didn't plan to, but if I kept my identity secret, it surely couldn't hurt to enjoy a harmless flirtation. "No," I wrote. "I go to a private school."
"So you're not local. Do you live in Indiana?"
"Are we playing 20 Questions?" I asked, adding a *G* for a major grin. "I guess Hillside High must be in Indiana." Clever move, I told myself, feeling cool as I waited for his answer.
"Right on. Where do you live?"
"Whoops. My dad just came in the front door for dinner." Actually, I'd heard his car pull in the drive and had a few more minutes before I was in danger of getting caught. But I didn't want to answer too many questions. "I have to go."
"Tough luck. Catch you later, HotChick."
I couldn't stop my fingers from typing, "Later, CaptCool."
***
I couldn't get the words out of my mind...CaptCool. I thought about Cool waking and sleeping. What did he look like? I checked the chat room that night and saw three girls on there I'd talked to before. One saw my screen name, HotChick, and wrote, "Hi, Valerie."
I exited the chatroom right then. I didn't want my identity disclosed.
Valerie Riggins, that's me. I'm an average girl who makes good grades and wears glasses because her eyes can't tolerate contacts. My hair is brown and baby-fine so it hangs straight down my back. We're a middle class family, with two kids who've flown the nest and me still at home, the caboose.
I was afraid Captain Cool was handsome and rich and brilliant and everything I wasn't. One part of me wanted him to be. The other part wished he was cute and friendly and his user name was AverageJoe.
Later, when I was getting ready for bed, I got online and there was one name...CaptCool.
When I logged on, he wrote, "I've been waiting."
My heart did a happy little tap dance and I wrote back. "Miss me, did you?"

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Visit Betty Jo at Betty Jo Schuler http://home.webworks2000.net/bschuler/bettyjo.html
NO RAIN, NO RAINBOWS ~ 2002 EPPIES finalist YA anthology http://www.atlanticbridge.net/publishing/
New! YA pick-a-path mystery ~ CAMP CHEER http://www.hardshell.com/newErel.asp

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Contest news:

This month's contest attracted nearly 400 entrants. I just wish I could give everyone a prize!
The winners are: Sandra Rooke, Dottie Finkenhagen and Marie Stenoski

You might not have won the CD and holder, but you can still go to my website for free downloads and a download of the CD with extracts and free books.


This month I have used some of the pictures I took in Africa, plus one of the beautiful west coast scenery on Vancouver Island. I am offering one of these pictures on a one of a kind coffee mug. If you win, you can choose your own design. Just visit my web site at http://www.patriciacrossley.com to enter.