The return of Joanne C. Berroa

Joanne C. Berroa, a fellow author at Rebel Ink Press, is back and ready to talk about her recent release at RIP, On Angel's Wings.

From Joanne: "My Life, My Heart is a novel that leaves the reader feeling good about love, life, and death. It's

Blurb

December 1940 found the world on the brink of a conflict greater than it had yet known, but for Anne Miller, USO band singer, the days before Pearl Harbor find her world full of excitement and promise. She had left the comfort of family and friends in Washington, DC to venture out into the distant and beautiful Hawaiian landscape to make a new life for herself and her fiancé, Corporal Daniel Beiler of the American Army forces.

Little did she know her perfect world was just an illusion. She didn’t expect to fall in love with a Navy pilot she’d meet at the USO dancehall on the eve of “the day that will live in infamy.” Her love for Daniel would be threatened while she fought with new and strange emotions for the brave and reckless Lieutenant Johnny Morgan. How could she love both men, although quite differently, and remain true to either? Will the outbreak of WWII tear their lives apart or pull them together in rain drenched islands in the South Pacific?

From Joanne: On Angels’ Wings is a story of desperation, hope, and fulfillment during the tumultuous years of World War II.

Excerpt

As Johnny’s launch cut through the water, a new formation of Jap planes appeared, flying frightfully low above the waters of Southeast Loch. The launch was making good speed as it approached 1010 dock. At least the Lexington, Enterprise, and Saratoga were at sea and escaped the slaughter. Some of the bombs missed their intended targets and splashed into a watery coffin not far from the launch, spraying sea water like a shroud of death around Johnny’s boat.

If only Johnny were in his Wildcat, he’d blow those Jap bastards right out of the sky. Suddenly Johnny gasped. Dozens of torpedo planes zoomed past them headed straight for the Oklahoma.

“Torpedoes,” Johnny cried. His cry of alarm went unheard, for the wails of dying men and exploding glass dimmed all else. Then the world went topsy-turvy for Johnny as a torpedo struck the underside of his launch. A huge shock wave lifted it out of the water and turned it turtle, spilling its occupants among the debris and bodies floating in the harbor.

Johnny found himself beneath the launch, water filling his nose and mouth. He tried to push the launch away and finally was able to move it. He surfaced and gasped for air, grabbing the end of the overturned boat just as a Jap plane swooped down for a strafing run. Clinging to the boat, he watched the plane alter its course and fire straight down into the midst of the men who were trying desperately to swim away.

The Oklahoma was now crippled and helpless, yet the Japs continued to fire upon her. Many of the men who’d been on the launch with Johnny drowned, hit by the plane’s bullets, but Johnny continued to use the boat as his protection, hiding beneath its hull whenever a plane came close enough to strafe them.

Just when he thought he’d make it unscathed, a plane left formation and swooped down upon Johnny, unleashing a torrent of bullets. Immediately, a searing pain coursed through his body and he gasped, letting go of the boat as cold water swirled up around him, shutting off his air supply. Overhead the sky was black with smoke, but he saw nothing as he sank into oblivion.
About Joanne C. Berroa, author: My life's passion has always been writing. Begun at an early age, I never got enough of creating "life" through my stories. It's such a high to be able to make realistic, believable characters who come to life on my computer monitor. Basically, they tell their own story and I just write it down. Their lives are very real to me, and I feel deprived not to be able to meet my heroes in real life. When not writing (which is seldom) I teach piano and organ. But my first and foremost love is weaving stories that readers will appreciate and remember.

Hello... Joanne C. Berroa

Rebel Ink Press author Joanne C. Berroa stopped by Sports Romance to promote her most recent release, My Life, My Heart.

Blurb:

How does a brilliant and independent woman from the 21st century fall in love with a dashing colonel in the 18th century? How can that love survive the test of time to live on through three centuries?

Elena Martin is a beautiful and intelligent time traveler who experiences the kind of love one only reads about in novels when she finds herself back in time during the American Revolution. Sebastian Rogers is a ruggedly handsome colonel in the Continental Army who sweeps her off her feet. Faced with the daunting decision to stay forever in the past or go forward in time to the present, she makes the ultimate decision for the sake of love to stay and forge a life with Sebastian.

But there are dark clouds on their horizon and Elena soon finds the need to return to her own century where she is strangely drawn to another man, Brett Darby, her Princeton University professor. Brett harbors an unsettling secret---he can see and feel things that can't be explained by reason or logic. What powers do Elena and Brett hold over each other and why are their lives irrevocably intertwined?

My Life, My Heart is a novel that leaves the reader feeling good about love, life, and death. It's a story about endurance, hope, and a love so strong it defies time.

Excerpt:

 

She squinted against the sunlight then looked at the clock on the time machine’s panel board. Eleven a.m. Only moments ago, it had been midnight. Or at least it seemed like moments ago. She looked around. In the distance were tall trees and the bright blue sky was filled with cumulus clouds. Otherwise, there was nothing. No animals, no chirping of birds, humming of bees, or the chatter of humans. It was surreal. She looked at the time machine’s gauges. One gauge was made to disclose what time period she was in. It hadn’t moved. Suddenly she wanted out of there, and fast. She had to get back to the University to document this. It was obvious some additional calculations had to be made before her flight could be accomplished again. The gauges and compasses should’ve read where she was and what period it was. The time machine was designed to remain stationary, yet it had moved. Something was amiss.

Elena started the ignition again, saying a little prayer the machine would in fact take her back to the University. What if it didn’t work? Would she be stuck in this soundless dimension forever?

She felt the now familiar droning of the machine beneath her feet. Again, she lost consciousness. Expecting to awaken in Bowen hall, she was startled when she awoke to complete darkness again, and the same unnerving silence. She reached out with both arms to feel around her, but her hands touched the nothingness of space. Panic surged through her along with cold fear. If she were inside the time machine, she should feel the coolness of the metal walls. The controls should be at arm’s length.

Yet her hands touched nothing. Suddenly the disturbing silence was shattered and she heard sounds, loud sounds, unintelligible at first then gradually becoming clear. Through the fuzziness of her brain, she deduced it was men’s voices, thick guttural sounds and they were shouting.

She stifled a cry as blinding light filled her senses. Her pupils narrowed, trying to adjust to the brilliant light. Then, like gazing through a kaleidoscope, it all came into focus, the voices and the bodies. All around were soldiers in uniform, barmaids serving beer and whiskey and she sat on a wooden bench minus the time machine against the planked walls of a tavern. Her heart was pounding. Where was she?

About the author: My life's passion has always been writing. Begun at an early age, I never got enough of creating "life" through my stories. It's such a high to be able to make realistic, believable characters who come to life on my computer monitor. Basically, they tell their own story and I just write it down. Their lives are very real to me, and I feel deprived not to be able to meet my heroes in real life. When not writing (which is seldom) I teach piano and organ. But my first and foremost love is weaving stories that readers will appreciate and remember.

Purchase links:

http://www.amazon.com/My-Life-Heart-ebook/dp/B00A8INOOS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1355445238&sr=8-1&keywords=joanne+c.+berroa

www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-life-my-heart-joanne-c-berroa/1113805006?ean=2940015838626

www.bookstrand.com/my-life-my-heart

www.allromanceebooks.com/product-mylifemyheart-1004233-148.html

WELCOME..... LILA MUNRO

Lila Munro, a fellow Rebel Ink Press author, dropped by to promote her latest book, Assumed Calling. Here's what she had to say:

Like the beat of a primal drum whispering the rhythm of an ancient dance, the lifestyle calls…

At the seasoned age of fifty-six, Allen Bourke has resigned himself to the fact he’ll probably never find someone to top he can also love. While he’s had wives and lovers, none of them endured and he’s come to the conclusion the clock’s ticking and age is working against him. Then a very intriguing Nicki Cartwright pings on his radar at what Allen determines will be his last house party. He can’t help but notice while he and his friends are getting older, the players emerging on the scene are forever getting younger. Nicki's no exception. Determined to resist the vibes humming between them, he only agrees to service her after his old friend, Kyle Montgomery, convinces him it's entirely feasible. Then it’s brought to Allen’s attention who Nicki really is. Knowing their pasts are forever intertwined, as hard as he tries to ignore his heart, he finds himself yielding to the tides of fate.

Born to senatorial royalty, Nicki Cartwright has spent her entire life trying to shield her mother from her father’s wrath while drifting further and further into a world where panic is normal and anxiety is always on the edge of her reality. Tired of burning the candle at both ends and forever trying to live up to the picture of All-American perfection her father James Cartwright touts as his ace in the hole during election cycles, Nicki finds herself on the path of self-discovery in search of relief from the stressors continually swamping her mind. What she doesn’t expect is to find who she thought she was is truly just a shadow of the person she really is. And what scares her most is the fact Allen, the only person she thought she could trust, has been holding a secret since before she was born which could destroy her entire family.

Excerpt:

When her breath caught at the realization of just exactly what he had planned, Allen leaned in and kissed her again, then leisurely made his way down. He kissed her chin then nipped the underside of it before flicking a trail with his tongue down the side of her throat where he sank his teeth into the hollow of her shoulder. Coming to accept what was going to happen, Nicki seemed to let go and leaned back on her palms, affording him access to her breasts.

So pretty, leaned back, offering herself to him, handful sized breasts jutting in the air, her nipples already shrinking into hard nubs. Allen took the left one between his teeth and razed it. He looked up to see her eyes drifting shut and her lips parted, staggered breaths whispering across them. She was so responsive to his treatment of her breasts, so completely receptive to the small amount of pain he used, bringing him to question if she’d be equally responsive to different kinds of pain, pain more severe than a spanking. For some reason, the image of her splayed atop the piano on her belly, spread-eagled and strapped down came to his mind’s eye. Her back was striped in his fantasy from the caress of his short-tail.

Allen couldn’t deny he wanted more with her than to appease her daddy fantasy. He wanted much, much more and he wondered how far he’d go to get exactly what he desired.

Now available at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand
About Lila:  Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporaFirery romance that spans everything from the sensual to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Destiny’s , Salvation, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, and the Identity series. She’s a member in good standing of RWA and Passionate Ink. Currently she’s working on sequels to several series to be released throughout 2012-2013 and has a brand new line scheduled for winter 2012-13. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be found at Realmantic Moments Facebook Goodreads Twitter You can also contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com and you can find all her works at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand

Dreaming of Dust Bowls

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy returns to discuss her latest book, Dust Bowl of Dreams, which will be released Monday at Rebel Ink Press. Here's what she had to say:

In western Oklahoma on a clear day the sky reminds me of a huge blue bowl stretching from above to every corner of the horizon. Although the summer just past was a dry one, drought conditions never reached the historic proportions of the 1930’s and the Dust Bowl. But older folks still remember those terrible times. I’m not from Oklahoma but I have a few family roots going deep into the Sooner State. One of my great-grandmothers made the trek from what was still Indian Territory, before statehood, with her family to northwest Missouri in a covered wagon. Before we were married, my husband spent some time working on oil drilling rigs in the panhandles of both Oklahoma and Texas. I like to travel and Oklahoma ranks high among my favorite places to visit. Combine all of the above with a childhood spent listening to my grandparents talk about the past. Since they raised their children during the Great Depression era, talk often turned to the hard times of the period. One of my great-uncles made bootleg whiskey and sold it. My grandfather, living in Nebraska at the time, ran the booze north. He quit when a friend in law enforcement warned him the law knew about the activities but his brother continued. And he did a year and a day in the Missouri State penitentiary for his crime. But he wasn’t a criminal – he was a man driven to do desperate things to survive.

One of my other grandfathers (yes, I had more than the usual amount because my grandmothers were both widowed and remarried) recalled sharing a barber shop experience with bank robber Clyde Barrow. Bonnie must’ve been at a beauty parlor down the street. I grew up in St. Joseph, Missouri where outlaw Jesse James met his untimely end and I have stories about the event connected to my family. But Charley Floyd, also known as Pretty Boy Floyd (a name he hated), is my favorite outlaw. I think Choc Floyd was a basically good man who went wrong.

So when I sat down to write a historical romance set in the 1930’s, Charley Floyd came to mind. He makes a cameo appearance in my just released Dust Bowl Dreams from Rebel Ink Press and my hero, Henry Mink, gets an idea how he can save the family farm through Charley’s example.

Blurb
Life’s never easy for a good-hearted man who decides crime is the answer to his troubles.

No rain in the summer of 1933 is bad news for Oklahoma farmer Henry Mink. The local banker wants the mortgage on the farm paid and unless Henry comes up with the dough, his widowed mother and four young siblings won’t have a home. Jobs are scarce so he decides to rob a bank. His sweetheart, school teacher Mamie Logan, doesn’t like the idea and neither does Henry’s kid brother Eddie but Henry’s out of options.

He leaves home and robs a bank at nearby Ponca City. When he returns home, he pays off the mortgage but new troubles show up. Mamie is his greatest joy and they become engaged but by fall, Henry has no options left but to rob another bank. If he can pull off one another big job, he figures he’ll be set until the hard times are over but few things in life go as planned. His desperate efforts will either secure his future or destroy it forever.

If Henry’s family survives and Mamie’s love endures, he’ll need a miracle.

Excerpt:
“Tell me you were just being silly a while ago,” she said. “I’ve been worried sick you meant what you said.”

Her touch kindled tenderness, but deep in his crotch Mamie’s fingers lit another fire and he inhaled hard. “I did mean it, girl. When I got back to the house, Richardson from the bank sat there, fedora on his knee, badgering Mama for money. He’s planning to foreclose and take the farm unless we come up with the money by the end of July. We sure as hell don’t have it and I don’t know of any other way to get it.”

Mamie’s eyes darkened almost black. “I could ask Daddy, Henry. I don’t know if he has it or not, but he might.”

“No,” he said, spitting out the word with force. Then he used a softer tone to add, “I appreciate it but I ain’t taking your family’s charity. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll rob a few banks, pay off the mortgage for Mama, get ahead, save some money and then I’ll quit, no harm done.”

“It’s wrong,” Mamie said with a troubled expression. “You know it is, Henry.”

He did, but damned if he’d admit it now. “What’s wrong is people getting kicked off their families’ land where they’ve lived for generations,” he said. “Banks are wrong to wring the last nickel away from folks. It’s not right for kids to go hungry or old people to do without. I don’t aim to get rich robbing banks, just take back enough to get through these hard times. If I can help a few people on the way, I will. And I don’t plan to kill no lawmen or shoot anyone.”

“Oh, Henry,” Mamie said and sighed. “I know almost everybody’s having a terrible time and no one has enough money. I don’t think the banks are being fair either, but two wrongs won’t make it right.”

“Money’ll go a long way toward fixing it,” Henry said.

“There’s not enough money in the world to make up for it if you get hurt,” Mamie said. “Or if some sheriff hunts you down to take your life. You could end up in prison down at McAlester or dead like Pretty Boy’s bandit friend, Birdwell. Your mama would just be heartbroken if anything happened to you. So would Eddie and the girls. Think about them, Henry.”

Mamie might be a smart young lady, but she didn’t understand, not yet anyway.

“I am,” he said. “I’m doing this for them. I can’t let them be put out on the road without a home or go live with stingy old Uncle Ed. And I’m worn out watching them go to bed hungry or do without almost everything. They all need shoes and I don’t think poor little Vi’s ever worn a brand new dress.”

She grasped his hand and held it so tight it hurt but he liked the connection. “Let me help them, then. I can sew. I saved some of my teacher salary and I could buy some cloth. I wouldn’t have enough to pay off the farm, but I could make the girls some nice little dresses or something.”

“Honey, I appreciate it but I can’t let you spend your money on my folks. Mamie, you don’t understand how poor we are, do you?”

“I think I do.”

“What’d your family have for supper?”

His question seemed to surprise her, but she answered. “Mama fried up some salt pork and ‘taters. She opened up a jar of corn she canned last summer and made a nice apple pie with some dried apples. Why?”

“We ate green beans seasoned with old bacon grease and onions with cornbread,” he answered. “I don’t think any of us ate enough to fill our bellies or even liked it much, but by God we ate everything Mama cooked. Hunger don’t allow for being picky.”

Mamie’s expression shifted. “That’s all you had?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah and some nights, it’s even less. Mama meant her garden to see us through summer but the pickings are pretty slim. She waters it with the dish and bath water or it’d be gone, too. We don’t have anything left to butcher and the few chickens still alive and kicking won’t lay eggs. The milk cow died last winter and we haven’t kept pigs since Daddy died. I’d hunt but it’s too damn hot for the meat to be much good and ‘sides, everyone else’s about hunted the game till it’s gone. I pull a few fish out of the river once in a while, but not many fish left either.”


Where to find me:leeannwriter@gmail.com

Twitter: leeannwriter

Facebook: my personal page is Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy plus I just kicked off an author page – From Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

https://www.facebook.com/pages/From-Sweet-To-Heat-The-Romance-of-Lee-Ann-Sontheimer-Murphy/287540748010934?ref=hl

Website/blog: http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogpspot.com

Blog: Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Lee-Ann-Sontheimer-Murphy/e/B004JPBM6I

Bracing for Hurricane Issac

It's that time of year where I always fret-- the threat of a Hurricane. By Sunday evening, I'll know whether or not Hurricane Issac will hit my home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast as a Category 2 Storm.

Songs from the heart

Hello, I'm giving away a copy of one of my earlier books at Rebel Ink Press, Songs from the heart. The person who has their favorite memory for the month of June will win a E-book copy of Heart. To see the other blog posts from my fellow RIP writers, see www.rebelinkpress.com/RebelReasoning/

Remodeling

I took the liberty of redesigning my website! Hope everyone likes the new change!