Word Count Wednesday

My word count today has consisted of looking for all the gesture crutches I've used in my manuscript.  My characters are all nodding, smiling idiots.  I can't believe how many times I've got them nodding and smiling!

So, I've been doing a bit of revising.  After I looked over Jordan McCollum's Fixes for Gesture Crutches and the Emotion Thesaurus, I dug in and started fixing.  Oy.  It's taken a lot longer than I thought, but so far, I've added about 500 words to the manuscript.

Do you use a lot of gesture crutches?  What's your strategy for getting rid of the grinny Gus in a manuscript who nods a lot?

How did you do this week?

Fireworks and Writing--Don't Focus on the Debris

I've talked about my city's fireworks on my blog before because every year is extremely exciting.  You see, no matter how much those in charge move the barriers back (and it seems like it's only a foot a year, not very much) the public who comes to watch is usually pelted with fireworks debris.  One year a tree caught on fire.  Another year rockets were actually fired into the crowd.  Sprinklers have gone on in the middle of the show.  I can't miss our city's fireworks because, well, it's more than a fireworks show. It's got an impact. Some of our funniest family memories have been at our city's fireworks.

This year we brought my son's soon to be in-laws.  We set up in our normal seats, about in the middle of the field.  We had warned our guests about the uniqueness of our city's show, but I don't think they believed us.

And then the fireworks began.

I always sit in a chair so I'm a smaller object to hit.  And I can hunker under a jacket or some other protection. Our guests laid out on the blanket, but soon huddled together when the debris started to rain down on us.  Some of them are still hot and can sting!

Here's a picture of the debris that hit me

Yes I keep little samples every year for our scrapbook. Don't judge! Sometimes we even compare to see who got hit by the largest one.  (Don't worry, one person is always assigned to protect my little ones.)

But what does this have to do with writing, you ask?  Well, the writing profession can sometimes feel like fireworks. I don't know about you, but whenever I score a great review or when I finish a novel or when I get fan mail, it's like firewoks. It makes me happy. But then there's times when it feels like burning debris is hitting you from every side when the critiques, bad reviews, and mean mail comes along.

I know it's going to come, just like I know I will be pelted at my city's fireworks.  I just need to make sure I'm prepared as well as I can be.  My protection from the debris of the writing profession is in the good reviews I've printed out, my critique group and beta readers who assure me my writing isn't crap, and in the joy I feel just writing and sharing my stories.  Also, a large chocolate bar is helpful on the really bad days. LOL

So, today, while I'm in the middle of some really wonderful/horrible things pertaining to writing, I want to make a commitment to concentrate more on the fireworks than on the debris.

Can you see them bursting in air? The pretty swirly ones? Yeah, let's focus on that.

Book Review: Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things (& A Chance to Win Books!)

First of all, there is an AMAZING book giveaway going on today, and in addition, the grand prize is $100 Lindt chocolate basket.  You won't want to miss this one! It's going on all day and it's easy to win, so go enter right now!  Click here for the Facebook link.

(Oh, and my book All Fall Down is being highlighted so its only 99 cents on Kindle today only! If you have a friend who's been wanting to read it, today is the day to buy! Click the pic in the sidebar.)

All right, today I'd like to tell you about Rachelle J. Christensen's new book, Diamond Rings are Deadly Things. This is the start of her Wedding Planner Mysteries and boy, what a great start!

We meet Adri, a wedding planner, and her assistant Lorea who are trying to get their wedding planner business off the ground. They have Sylvia as a client who can make or break them.  She's a diva, B actress, someone very difficult to please and it becomes worse for everyone when one of her wedding dress selections goes missing. Adri and Lorea are running around trying to put out fires when it goes from worse to catastrophic. You see, on top of everything else, one of Adri's wedding gowns, shipped all the way from China, has a little something in the lining that shouldn't be there---and the people who put it there definitely want it back.  But who is behind it all?  Such a fun mystery with lots of twists and turns and me trying to puzzle it all out in my mind.  Really well done.

In addition to a great mystery, though, there's also a bit of a love triangle. Dallas is trying to date Adri, but there's a new divorce lawyer in town named Luke whose blue eyes and motorcycle keep her coming back for more.  I loved the sparks in the relationship with her and Luke and how gentle Dallas seemed as they started dating.  Of course by the end I had a clear favorite.  

Adri is a complex character who is well-developed. There are great secondary characters as well, right down to the jeweler next door.  The ending was left open for the next book, but it wasn't a cliff-hanger and I felt satisfied with the ends that were tied up.  

I think this is a great debut mystery for Ms. Christensen and I will be looking forward to more in the series!

Here is the back copy:

Adrielle Pyper knows how to plan a wedding, and she's especially good at pleasing bridezillas. But when her biggest client and best friend is murdered just three days before the wedding, Adri's world falls apart. She moves to the resort town of Sun Valley, Idaho, and starts from scratch. Thanks to Adri's impeccable taste and unique style, she lands two celebrity clients, and her business seems headed for success—that is, until someone vandalizes the specialty wedding dresses she imported from overseas. The race is on to uncover a secret hidden within the yards of satin and lace before Adri becomes the next victim.

With a delightful blend of mystery, toe-curling kisses, humor, and spine-tingling thrills, Diamond Rings are Deadly Things is a romantic suspense novel that will keep you turning pages long into the night.

If this sounds like a book you'd like to purchase click this link Diamond Rings are Deadly Things to buy!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday Freebie--Spell Check

First of all Happy Fourth of July! I hope your day is filled with thoughts of freedom and how precious it is and that you are surrounded by friends and family today.  If you have a chance to sit and relax and read a book, here is a good one that is free today and tomorrow!

Go ahead, read the back copy below. And if this looks like a book that interests you, click Spell Check to get your free Kindle copy!

 

 

A skeleton is rattling its way out of the closet marked “FAMILY SECRET! KEEP OUT!” Allyson Peterson believes that being hanged by the Salem High Witches is the absolute worst thing that can happen. But when her powers, wrested from the trolls of ancient Sweden, manifest themselves, she realizes that a prank hanging by vindictive cheerleaders is the least of her worries. Ally accidentally sends her parents to the jungle to fight anacondas, turns her brother into a mute, and curses the entire cheerleading team with an illness that has no cure, proving that her spells need a little checking. Her Swedish grandmother shows up to help her through the worst part of all—surviving the Troll Trials and saving the guy of her dreams from a vengeance that has festered through-out generations. The power is in her, if she can just get the magic right.

Author Julie Wright Julie Wright (1972-still breathing) was born in Salt Lake City, Utah. She's lived in LA, Boston, and the literal middle of nowhere (don't ask). She wrote her first book when she was fifteen. She's written sixteen novels--nine of which are traditionally published. Julie won the Whitney award for best romance in 2010 with her novel Cross My Heart. She is agented by Sara Crowe at Harvey Klinger Inc. She has one husband, three kids, two salamanders, one dog, and a varying amount of fish (depending on attrition). She loves writing, reading, traveling, hiking, playing with her kids, and watching her husband make dinner. She used to speak fluent Swedish, but now speaks only well enough to cuss out her children in public. She hates mayonnaise.

Website

Sneak Peek of Ring Around the Rosie Chapter Two!!

I know, I know, I just showed you all the back copy, but I just can't wait!  *throws confetti*  Let's take a peek at the first half of the second chapter of Ring Around the Rosie, should we?

And if you want to read the first chapter, click here

Chapter Two

copyright 2014 Julie Coulter Bellon All rights reserved

Sarah froze.  The scene in front of her was straight out of a nightmare.  The tip of the gun brushed Ron’s top shirt button and the man who held it was the most hardened-looking man she’d ever seen.  His black hair curled under his ears, highlighting a flame tattoo that feathered on the side of his neck with every movement.  Clean-shaven, he had a scar on his jaw, testifying that he’d been burned at some point in his life.  He was overly muscular, like he’d spent too much time in the gym and didn’t know when to stop.  And he had a gun on Ron.  The room spun and she put a hand to her temple.  Think Sarah. Think.  What can I do?

We’re across the street from the police station, she reminded herself. Help is probably on the way right now.  Relieved at the thought, she kept her eyes on the gunman in front of her, as if watching would make him less likely to shoot. Did he care about having a witness? What was he going to do when every officer from across the street descended on the diner?

She turned to the door, crouching, and with only one of her high-heeled shoes still on her foot.  She tested her rubbery legs to see if they could hold her weight, and it was tough with only one shoe, but doable.  Starting to stand, she immediately crouched back down when automatic gunfire echoed all around her.  Two men dressed in full combat gear from helmet to boots stood at the front door of the diner firing their weapons toward the parking lot. 

Where their rescuers would be coming from. 

The thought of all those police officers coming to help and being gunned down tore a scream of terror from her throat.  It was quickly lost in the noise around her.  Please don’t let them die.  She tried to focus on the men and wrap her brain around what was happening.  No. They were pointing their guns higher in the air.  Like they wanted to scare the police from approaching them.  Why?

She grabbed her throat and sat down hard, the images in front of her harder and harder to process.  Ron being held at gunpoint.  Bullet casings hitting the floor, the diner smoldering around her. Sarah could feel panic rising in her. She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but that made it worse instead of better.  She just had to get out of here. 

Sarah opened her eyes. Everything was moving in slow motion, but happening so fast.  She was breathing fast and shallow, which made her even more dizzy.  It was all Sarah could do to stay sitting upright and not curl up in a fetal position and scream until help came or she was killed.  This was going from bad to worse in the space of a millisecond.

The shooting finally stopped and she got on her hands and knees to crawl around an overturned table blocking her way to the door.  I need air.  The gunmen turned to her simultaneously, blocking her way out.  She was forced to stop mid-crawl.  A whimper rose in her throat as she looked up at them.  Their faces were blank, as if this was routine, something they practiced every day.  She swallowed and sat back, waiting for them to kill her.  “Please, don’t,” she said, hoping they would hear her plea. They didn’t even blink. Did have earplugs in?  Nothing fazed them, not even the noise of the alarms or the guns.

The two men didn’t acknowledge her, instead watched somewhere behind her position, as if waiting for a command of some sort.  Sarah pressed her hands into her face, making it hurt like a thousand needles were being stabbed into it.  Sarah knew she was bruised and burned, but at the moment, it was fear, not fire, burning the back of her throat. 

“What’s going on?” she managed to ask, loudly, before the man standing in front of her took his helmet off and revealed a completely bald head.  He glanced at the tattooed guy still holding Ron at gunpoint.  Tattoo Guy nodded and the bald man grabbed her arm, forcing her to her feet.  The room spun and tilted at the sudden movement, her balance off with only one heel on. She held her stomach.  “I think I’m going to throw up.  Please.  Let me get my purse.  I need my purse.” 

She started to search for it, spying it on the other side of the broken booth. Why didn’t I pick it up before? That purse had a first aid kit in it, her phone, and a set of keys she could maybe use as a weapon if push came to shove.

            Baldy’s grip tightened, but he didn’t let her go, merely gave her another blank look.

“Please, can I just get my purse?”  She pulled on his grip a bit, trying to free her arm.  “It’s right there.”

“Shut up,” he said, shoving her away from it and toward Ron.

“Stand up, Captain,” Tattooed Guy shouted in Ron’s face.  “Now.”  He lifted his gun to press against Ron’s chest and Sarah’s heart hitched.  No matter what had passed between them, she didn’t want him dead.  Penniless, miserable, and alone, maybe, but not dead. 

Ron stared at her as he got slowly to his feet, regret in his eyes.  She flashed back to the last day they’d had together.  That same look had been on his face when he’d come home to find his bags packed. She’d wanted a reaction, some attention, maybe a promise to try again, but he’d just picked up the bag. He hadn’t fought for her. He’d let her go. 

She knew deep down he regretted how things turned out, but that day he’d offered no explanation or even much of an apology. He’d been stone-faced with no emotion allowed to show through the cracks.  Always the police officer, first and foremost.

But now, as he stood in front of a gunman, she saw fear flicker over his face. That was something she’d never seen before.  It just wasn’t in him.  She looked between Ron and the gunman. If Ron was scared, with his training and everything he dealt with in his profession, then she should be terrified.

Ron stood in front of the man, his features smoothing.  “What’s your name?”  His calm tone gave her some courage.  He was going to sort this out.  She took another breath. Everything will be okay.

The gunman sneered.  “How quickly you forget.” He turned to the bald man holding her.  “What are you staring at? Get everyone to the back room.  We’re on a schedule.  And shut off those alarms.”

            The gunmen around her jumped into action, the bald one hauling her toward the back, his grip tight enough to snap her arm in two.  She walked like a drunken sailor on her one heel. Up, down, up, down.  Her guard seemed annoyed by it, but she didn’t dare take off the one shoe she had left with all the glass and debris on the floor.  She glanced back at Ron, but smoke obscured her view of him.  This is not okay.  His calm tone hadn’t helped like she’d hoped.

Sarah quickly faced front and looked down as she tripped over something large and soft.  It was a woman’s body.  The waitress.  Judging from the angle of her neck, she was dead.  Sarah let out a yelp of fear, her insides churning. Stay calm.  She looked away and saw two of the other guards attaching clay-like squares the size of a laptop screen to various locations on the walls and doorway of the diner.  The last gunman was struggling to keep his assault rifle at the ready while he pulled Ron’s co-worker, Claire, away from a man on the floor. 

“What is this all about?” Sarah asked, walking on tiptoe to minimize injury to her bare foot.

            “Shut up,” Baldy told her.  He pulled her through the plastic sheeting covering the back of the diner, revealing a work area whose floor was covered in dust and tools.  He led her to a door that looked oddly small because the walls around the frame had been overlaid with a thick fiberglass-looking material.  Like it was fortified. 

The reality of her situation sank deep into her bones.  They weren’t going to kill anyone right now.  They were all hostages and this attack had been pre-planned.  She tried to turn around, but Baldy gripped her arm so hard she groaned at the pressure adding to her aches and bruises.  “You’re going to break my arm,” she told him, then regretted her words. She didn’t want to give him any ideas.  “Please. Let me go.”

“Okay.” He let go, but shoved her through the fortified door. Sarah stood inside the room, rubbing her arm and getting her bearings.  It was a back office.  It was a fairly large rectangle, with a little alcove that had a flat screen TV.  There were four chairs arranged in a semi-circle on the perimeter of the room with a larger captain’s chair in the middle.  The desk was in the corner and it had a laptop and a small TV on it. The only window was small and placed high above the desk.

“Sit down,” Baldy commanded. 

He turned around to leave the way they’d come, and she followed him out the door, until he stopped and pushed his finger into her chest.  “Sit down,” he said again.  His eyes narrowed to mere slits, his other hand on his assault rifle.  She stepped back, the vehemence in his voice echoing in her ears.  Maybe I’ll wait for Ron and decide what to do from there. 

She hobbled back into the room.  It had been protected from the blast and the floor was thankfully clear, so she took off her one remaining shoe.  Looking down at the wedge heel, she wished she’d worn stilettos.  They would have made a makeshift weapon at least. Her low heel looked pretty harmless against someone like Baldy.

            Before she could think more on it, Baldy pushed into the room again.  She moved to the side as another guard escorted everyone else in.  Claire came first, limping.  Sarah flattened herself against the wall, unable to stifle a gasp when she saw Claire’s pant legs shredded and an open gash bleeding down her calf.  Colby was next, and there was blood all over his front, but she couldn’t tell if it was his or not.  He held a bloody and barely conscious Bart around the waist, but struggled to hold him up.  She quickly covered her mouth with her hand. The sight of blood had always made her feel sick.

            She needed to take her mind off of it.  Lightly skimming the bruise on her face, she felt for the small burn near the top of it, assessing her own wounds.  The burn almost hurt worse than the large bruise.  She really couldn’t complain, though, comparing her injuries to the ones on the people in front of her.  It was a miracle she wasn’t hurt worse.  Everything had flown through the room during the explosion.  When she’d finally opened her eyes, she was on the floor with the hostess podium and a fallen booth piled protectively around her.  That stroke of luck had shielded her from the impact and she was grateful to be alive.

Her eyes searched the people being herded in.  “Where’s Ron?” she asked when Claire and Colby got close.

            “I’m not sure,” Colby told her as he laid Bart on the floor and slumped beside him.  He turned to Baldy, his jaw set.  “No matter what this is about, we need a doctor in here.” He motioned to Bart, before clenching his fists.  “If he dies, I’ll make it my personal mission in life to make you suffer.  Believe me, you don’t want his death on your hands.”

            Baldy stared Colby down and patted his rifle.  With barely a blink, he went over to stand next to the door.  He did keep a wary eye on Colby as he opened it and glanced out, obviously waiting for someone else to come.

            He’s waiting for Ron to come, the voice in her head said.  They wouldn’t take everyone else hostage and kill him, right? That wouldn’t make sense.  Nothing makes sense.  Her eyes stayed glued to the door.

            Claire maneuvered her way to the floor, pulling Sarah’s attention to her, in obvious pain from her leg wound. She knelt next to Bart.  “How bad?” Claire said to Colby.

            He studied Bart, not looking up.  “Bad.  He’s going to go into shock if we don’t do something.”  Colby grimaced as he held his side.  “I’ve got some shrapnel that needs to come out.” 

Claire leaned over and pulled what was left of his shirt back. She hissed out a breath when she saw his side. “Cole, it’s full of glass.”

“Feels like it, too.”  He took a look at her leg.  “We’ve got to get your bleeding controlled. Fast.” 

Listening to them talk about the blood made Sarah feel light-headed again. She’d never been good in a crisis, especially one that involved wounds.  She bent over, trying to take deep breaths, but the rusty scent of blood was everywhere.  She gagged and put her nose inside her shirt.  Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, she chanted in her head.  It was no use.  She ran for the door in the corner, praying there was a bathroom or at least a closet of some sort where she could be sick in private.

She burst through the door, her hand over her mouth.  Knowing she had mere seconds before she lost it completely, she nearly cried in relief when she saw the toilet.  She managed to get the lid open seconds before she promptly lost her lunch.  Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to get control of herself. 

When she was finally done, she flushed the toilet and went to the sink.  The cold water felt so good on her face.  She splashed it over and over on her cheek that had now started to throb with pain.  Daring to look in the mirror, she stared at her reflection.  Her injuries looked as bad as they felt.  Half her cheek and over to her ear was purpling with a bruise.  Part of her hairline and forehead were singed.  Her cheek was swelling, the burn pulling at the skin.  She would definitely have some scars to remember this day by, both emotionally and physically. 

Word Count Wednesday

This has been an awesome week for me, getting ready to launch Ring Around the Rosie, doing final checks and edits.  I cannot wait to share it with you!

I did think about resurrecting my novella and working on that after the new novel is launched.  Then we could start up word sprints again.  What do you think? Wait until school starts? Go for it this summer?

How did your week go writing-wise?

Back Cover Copy Reveal for Ring Around the Rosie!

Since today is Canada Day, I'm giving my readers a little present by sharing the back cover copy for my new novel, Ring Around the Rosie! The book is coming out in a couple of weeks, and I can't wait to share it with you all!

So . . .think warm and courteous thoughts, like all Canadians do. And without further ado . . .


Drum roll . . .

Revenge is a dish best served cold . . .

As the ex-wife of a law enforcement officer, Sarah Reed has known loneliness and loss. In order to cope, she makes a life for herself that’s full of routine while building a wall of ice around her heart. Everything about her is as predictable as she can make it until a tiny detour for her ex-husband, Ron, changes her life forever. Caught in a bomb crisis, Sarah is taken hostage by a man who wants Ron and everyone around him to suffer---and his idea of suffering is more terrible than Sarah had ever dreamed.

Captain Ron Reed has seen the worst of humanity in his job with the Hostage Negotiation Team, but he never expected his past to come back with a vengeance---literally. Aaron Starks, a criminal explosives expert, has stolen next-gen bomb technology. He uses it to force Ron to bargain for the lives of his team and his ex-wife, Sarah, the woman he still loves. But the situation escalates when Ron discovers that Starks has an even bigger objective in mind---using the bomb to show how vulnerable America and her people truly are.

Ron is willing to risk everything to save his country and those he loves, but when negotiations break down, will his sacrifice be too little too late?

So what do you think? *bites nails*