Book on Sale

Ashes & Ice by GK Parker is on Sale at the Publisher's web site!

Excerpt:

A shrewd look came over the man's seamed face. It turned into a grin. With a nod he pointed to the end of the stable. "Last stall on the left. She's showin' a hint of lameness. Bring her up and if yer such a know it all, let's see if you can figure out what's troubling her." 

He strode toward the stall. What was he going to find? From the liveryman's smirk this wasn't anything ordinary. A halter and lead hung from a nail beside the half door. On the other side was a gas-lamp, which he lit. He raised it so he could see inside the box stall. 

The horse was huge. Bigger than huge. Must be eighteen, nineteen hands, at least. He was a big man, but not beside this behemoth. A massive black-and-white animal, she stood, her rump toward him, ears pinned when he stepped up to the stall. He tried to guess her lineage. The Shire was obvious in her sheer size, but there had to be some Irish cob in her to get that color and such long feathers and mane. The foot-long mane was matted; how long would it be when it was no longer tangled? As a young boy, he'd always been excited when the tinkers came through town, even though all the adults warned him not to trust them. But their horses were the most beautiful he'd ever seen. 

He took another step and gripped the door. Her ears shot back and she stamped her massive hind legs and the door shook. 

It was going to be like that. He threw a glance back to find the livery man leaning on a stall door, watching. What kind of show was he expecting? 

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Pearls of wisdom from the past

A man who has traveled some, says that there is no country in the world where wives are more worshiped than they are in France. He regrets to say, however, that all the adoration comes from somebody else's husband.

Los Angeles Star April 2, 1853

Before even opening her mouth, opera singer, Jenny Lind was already today’s equivalent of a rock star or world-renowned celebrity. If we could all have P. T. Barnum’s marketing savvy pushing our names. She arrived to much fanfare to New York Harbor on September 1st, 1850. Forty thousand people to be exact, and she hadn’t even sung a note. The Swedish Nightingale signed a contract with Barnum and his company to the tune of $187,500 for 150 shows.

Before she was thirty, Lind took the capitols of Europe by storm. I read that Queen Victoria herself threw flowers at her feet. Lind was known for her pure vocal style and humility. Barnum sold her to the American public as a simple, humble woman who dedicated much of her life and earnings to charitable causes. She was a soprano with a range from B to middle C to high G.

Her nationwide tour began in New York City on September 11th, 1850 at the Castle Gardens. The five thousand attendees obtained their tickets through an auction, paying as much as $250 per ticket, which then wasn’t cheap.

During her performance, Lind sang her interpretation of “Casta Diva”, which you can hear:

Maria Calla’s interpretation here.

I wanted to discover what Jenny Lind sang because I wanted to somehow tie it in with what my heroine was feeling at the time. I was lucky in that the music worked perfectly with her emotions.

Here’s a brief excerpt from my novella, His Fifth Avenue Thief. Aaron and Cathlene are attending their first event publically as husband and wife after enduring a separation that tested their inner strength and emotions.

A hush fell over the crowd as the theater darkened. A cacophony of sound rose up from the pit below before falling silent. The curtain parted and Jenny Lind stepped out on stage.

Quiet and restrained, the orchestra began to play. The soprano joined in, her note clear and crisp, floating to all corners of the theater.

Cathlene sat enraptured by her voice. It mesmerized her, transporting her to a place she’d never been. She floated free and happy on this cloud of joy. She was here with Aaron, and there was nothing else which mattered. The performance drowned out the horror of Standish’s crime against her, taking her from the hell she’d been living in and bringing her out into the light.

“I’ve never heard anything sound so beautiful,” Aaron whispered. “Only thing better than hearing her sing of love is hearing you confess yours for me.”

She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t break this fragile spell, this link the music created between them, seeming to dissolve the barriers that separated their lives and hearts.

The beauty of the music, every note that filled the air ringing with emotion, brought tears to her eyes. From what Italian she understood, the Nightingale sang of love found but lost. Every phrase seemed to be torn from her soul, the pain of the heartbroken lover in the story burrowed its way into Cathlene’s own soul.
She was just like this overwrought lover. Both yearning for days long past, time that couldn’t be recaptured. Both wanting their love the way they used to be, but deep down, both knowing it was lost to them forever.

Their sorrow was almost palpable to her, for Cathlene felt her own pain as she thought of being parted from Aaron again. She’d once more fallen in love with the man she’d once known. Trouble was, he wasn’t the same; then again, neither was she. Her lip quivered. He didn’t feel as strongly for her as she did him. Drudging up past memories couldn’t save them.

Elizabeth sent her a concerned glance. She leaned over and whispered something, but Cathlene couldn’t hear for all the emotions that swamped through her. How she wished she had someone to confide in. Sitting amongst these strangers – even Aaron was still a stranger to her in many ways. He fit well into this world, whereas she was completely on her own and alone.

I learned all this, and only included very little of it in my novella, His Fifth Avenue Thief. While writing my first Historical, I learned that although I’d like to include everything along with the kitchen sink where fun facts are concerned, you have to weed out what won’t move the story, or the plot forward. It wasn’t easy picking and choosing what to include, but I had so much fun doing the research.

If you’re an author, while in the process of writing a book, have you ever felt torn what to include? Did you ever wish you would’ve used something other than what you did? If you’re a reader, have you ever stopped reading because the author simply included too much information? Or not enough to keep you hooked?

I’d like to thank P.A. Brown for having me here today. I’ve got to work at the evil day job, but I’ll pop in and say hello as soon as I’m able. I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card to one lucky, random commenter. You’ll have until Midnight, Friday EST to leave a comment for a chance to win.

My next stop on my blog tour is for my

Cyber launch party at Author Island

I’m pretty sure I’ll be giving away a prize. [wink]

Bio:

Abbey MacInnis is a published author of Contemporary Western romance. Along with Contemporary, she writes Historical, Paranormal and erotic romance. Whether she’s being swept off her feet by a Medieval knight, regency rake, or cowboy or cop, her heroes are always strong men who’ll love their women unconditionally.

On most days, Abbey can be found at her computer, penning her latest tale. A tale where love, respect, and passion combine to create a satisfying and happy ending. She invites you to step in to the pages of her romances, to leave your worries behind and get swept up in her world.

His Fifth Avenue Thief blurb:

Two years prior, Irishman Aaron O’Connel took his life from rags to riches. Chance and wits have kept him alive in 1850’S New York City. But no amount of money or success can bring his love Cathlene back from the dead. When a thief sneaks her way into his mansion, the last woman he expects to find absconding with his belongings is his long lost wife.

Abandoned on New York’s shores, a widowed, penniless, and ruined Cathlene O'Connel was left to fend for herself in an unfamiliar world. Fear and circumstance drove her to a life of thieving in order to survive, but her heart risks the biggest danger of all when Aaron hands her a scandalous proposition: A son in exchange for her freedom.
Now that he has her back, Aaron doesn't intend to let Cathlene slip between his fingers. He'll do whatever it takes to regain her trust and love. But when an enemy from Cathlene's past resurfaces, Aaron not only faces battling for Cathlene's heart, but also her life.

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Review A Dozen Deadly Rose

Review A Dozen Deadly Roses by Kathy Bennett

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This novel is Ms Bennett's first published. And it's a good beginning. A Dozen Deadly Roses is a romantic suspense. LAPD officer Jade Donovan is a field training officer. But when she finds out who the ‘rookie' riding with her will be, she knows she's in trouble. Mac Stryker was her training officer. He was also a drunk who nearly got them both killed. A mistake lands Jade in Mac's bed. She is left pregnant and Mac leaves the force, never knowing he had a son.

Now he's back and Jade just knows he's going to be trouble. She is torn between telling him about his son and maybe having to face his claims as a father. Stryker might be sober, but can he stay that way? Jade knows first hand how easy and often reformed drunks can fall back into the bottle.

As if that isn't enough, someone is stalking her. It starts with a gold box being delivered, filled with a dozen dead roses. The next day the same shows up on her doorstep, this time with eleven dead roses. It quickly becomes clear the threat is bad. Jade doesn't want her division to know what's going on. She'll tackle it herself. Her determination starts a train of events that will see her facing a killer and maybe losing everything--her life, her son's and Stryker's love.

I really enjoyed this book. I'm glad to hear the author plans more. Her characters are well developed and likable--or unlikeable as the case may be--and I know I was rooting for Jade and Stryker. If you like cops, suspense and romance, then this is the book for you. You won't be disappointed.

Great Icons... and then there's Los Angeles

What icon comes to mind when you hear the name New York City? For me it's the Statue of Liberty. Others might think of the Empire State Building. What about Paris? The Eiffel Tower. London? Buckingham Palace. San Francisco? The Golden Gate Bridge. Egypt? The pyramids. The Sydney Opera House. The Great Wall of China, Mount Rushmore, the Taj Mahal...

All great monuments of their time that stand for ingenuity, craftsmanship and the indomitable spirit of mankind and our artistic skills.

Now think Los Angeles. I would hazard a guess that what pops to mind is Hollywood and the Hollywood sign or Graumann's Chinese Theater. Vast monuments? Skillfully designed edifices that strikes awe into people when they first see it?

No, a nearly century old advertising gimmick to sell lots in a city that was promoting growth. Harry Chandler, publisher of the Los Angeles Times, along with other wealthy Californians, was also a land speculator. He promoted the growth of Los Angeles, the Valley and of course, Hollywood. The sign meant to help him and the other investors to get richer went up in 1923 at the cost of $23,000. The LAND part of the sign was removed in 1949. It was fixed and made more permanent in 1978. In 2005 the metal sign was stripped and repainted white.

I guess in terms of monuments, it beats a giant donut.

This is part of why I love L.A. It's not like anyplace else. Where else would pocket dogs be created. Where pet rocks actually became a craze. (I had a pet rock, but I didn't buy him in some store, I caught him myself, up in the hills and I had to break him all by myself) Where people throng from all over the world to see the hand prints or foot prints of men and (and the odd animal) they only know through the screen. Where even the cops are good looking. Where some east coast exiles came with a few black and white, grainy moving pictures and created a multi-billion dollar enterprise that has shaped beliefs and societies.

DEATH ON DISPLAY

There is quite a lot to consider when you put a human mummy on display. Who was the person who is now mummified, and did he or she believe in an afterlife? Surely any concept of an afterlife does not include being in a public museum case! Is the body naked (bare bones, as in unclothed and skeletonized, or just unwrapped)? What culture does it belong to, and what does having the mummy on display teach us about ancient belief systems, health, and disease?

Last week I had the great good fortune to attend the 7th World Congress on Mummy Studies in San Diego. Aside from the fact that I am apparently allergic to the flora of California, I really enjoyed the conference. Where else can you hear about a waxwork on display out west that turned out to be a mummy, or “piggies in peat” (experimental animal mummification using piglets in peat bogs in Europe)? I can truthfully say I attended more papers than I usually do because I was absolutely fascinated with the content and the range of subjects.

The first session was on the ethics of mummies—both the study of dead bodies and the display of them. The concept of stakeholder theory was introduced: who are the stakeholders in a mummy display? The scientists, the museum staff, the public, the mummy itself…and the descendants of the mummy, if they can be identified. And here is a lesson for the unwary: a protest about a “stuffed Eskimo” in a museum case incensed Greenlanders until a DNA analysis proved that the body in question was of Dutch origin. Then, the protesters said it was okay to call it a “stuffed Dutchman,” just not an Eskimo. But, as we all agreed, it was clearly not respectful to label any mummy, a dead human being, a “stuffed” anything.

But how do you show respect for a dead body or a mummy of unknown origins? Although most Western societies require permission from the family before an autopsy or a burial of a recently dead body, the correct procedure for dealing with ancient remains is often unclear. Scholars such as the anthropologists, physicians, chemists, and curators at this conference strive to balance the advancement of knowledge with cultural sensitivity whenever they can. For example, many agree that modern displays of Egyptian mummies should not reveal bare bones, large areas of dried up skin, or lone body parts. This was not always the case, as many early displays showed mummies unwrapped or dissected after autopsies. In contrast, Native American human remains, such as those formerly on display at Dickson Mounds in Illinois, are now covered up completely and are only available for scientific study on a very limited basis.



People vary in their reactions to human remains in a public museum according to their upbringing and religious beliefs, so some modern displays give the visitor a choice: you can push a button on an unlit case to see the mummy inside, or if such a display offends you, just move on. One of the curators for the traveling “Mummies of the World” exhibit told us that the public response to seeing mummies on display has so far been overwhelmingly positive. A mummy shown in a scientific context (rather than in a curio cabinet with snakes and rocks), with interesting information about the person’s life as revealed by medical imaging or DNA analysis, usually fascinates rather than horrifies.
Scientific studies can humanize a mummy by revealing unseen facts about the person inside. Two examples: a CT scan can reveal that a mummy is a child, not an adult, by showing adult teeth coming in right behind baby teeth, and DNA analysis has recently proven that the Tyrolean Iceman’s eyes were brown, not blue.



--
Sarah Wisseman

Archaeological mysteries:
The Mummy Blog

"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives." -William C. Dement, professor of psychiatry (b. 1928)

Red pigment and silver mining

As I get ready to head to San Diego at the weekend for the World Mummy Congress, I am reflecting on all the places our University of Illinois mummy has taken me.

One of the strangest: the world of pigment analysis. Our red stucco covering was analyzed twice, once by a lab at the U of I, and the second time by the Getty Conservation Institute. Both times, lead oxide was identified. This is interesting because you might expect an iron oxide for the color red. But red lead, or minium, was popular in antiquity, and that is what our pigment turns out to be. Even better, the Getty researchers linked the composition to that of nine other Roman period mummies from Egypt, and to the source: the silver mine of Rio Tinto in Spain.

Why is this so cool? Because it provides additional evidence that our little mummy, a child of perhaps mixed parentage who lived in Roman Egypt, came from a relatively well-to-do family. Not only did he or she have parent who could afford exotic ingredients like minium and gold leaf for the mummy wrappings, but the portrait was originally very detailed and probably gorgeous to look at. Take a look on our website, and check out the wonderful new book on Herakleides by Lorelei Corcoran and Marie Svoboda on the red shroud mummy group.

--
Sarah Wisseman

Archaeological mysteries:
The Mummy Blog:

"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives." -William C. Dement, professor of psychiatry (b. 1928)