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Tuesday, May 29, 2012

A Little Matter of Semantics...

I've often though we 'horror' writers have been misnamed: I believe, and I think, for good reason, we should be termed 'terror' writers. Let me explain:
Imagine you're driving along a narrow, winding highway and come across a crash-site. A huge semi is on its side, the driver quite okay, but the three teenage passengers and the teenage driver of the other vehicle, a Mini Minor, are not. The driver has been decapitated, and his head, sitting on the dash just in front of the steering-wheel, is the first thing you see. In this instance, I believe the feeling that comes over you is one of horror: a sense of fear, but heavily tainted by a turning of the stomach.
Now imagine you're the driver of the Mini Minor six seconds before the impact, and you know you cannot possibly avoid what is about to happen. Do you feel horror...or terror?
I think the answer is terror - sheer, unadulterated fear.
If my semantics are right, therefore, then we should be called 'terror' writers, as I, for one, certainly don't want to upset the stomachs of my readers, or they might not return for a second bite of my work! And I don't think any other writer of the 'fearsome' would want his/her readers feeling queazy, either.
That having been said, and out of the way (I hope), let me now say how happy I am to find a publisher who doesn't begin and end their contact with a writer at the 'sign here and you'll see your book published in due course' point. The constant flow of contact from Rebecca via emails and the daily Pb flow from the yahoo.com site make this quite clear. Quite frankly, it's beaut, mate (yup! I'm from that place far to the south of the United States, but I hope you won't hold that against me).
And now that I've figured out how to get a post onto our Blogger site, I'll clear out again, before I click on something that ain't meant to be clicked on, and wait for my next turn to come around
Adrian Scott  

Sunday, May 27, 2012


Hey everyone! I wanted to introduce myself to fellow authors and readers in this first post at our PBRJVWTB blog and tell you a little about me, my stories, and the blog itself.

I was born in Duncan, Oklahoma, in 1957. I had two “way older” sisters (10 and 12 when I came along) and I was a Tomboy–with a capital “T” for sure! Although I loved Barbie, I’d much rather have been playing cowboys and Indians–probably why I chose to write western historical, for the most part.

I finally got to go to a rodeo when I was about 9 with my cousin, and Larry Mahan was there! I was in love. After that, I wanted to be a barrel racer, thinking that would be a great way to get those handsome cowboys to notice me when I was older…of course, that was a huge pipe dream since my family was NOT into rodeoing at all. But my first “serious” little story I wrote in elementary school had a guy in it named “Larry” and girl named “Cherry” (original, huh?)

My dad was an oilfield hand–a chemical engineer, on call 24/7 for as long as I can remember. Mom was the “June Cleaver” type, and both of them were appalled when I told them I wanted to write books for a living. As they predicted, that dream had to be placed on hold for many years–enough time for me to marry and raise my two kids–with a myriad of “real jobs” (as others called them) in between.

But I was writing all the time, every spare minute I got. I started out with an idea for a western romance, and the more I wrote, the bigger the story became, until I had a 1000 page manuscript! Of course, it’s still unsold (go figure!) but it’s the book of my heart–and I know each of you authors out there has written a book that holds that special place in your heart, as well. That was what I needed to “get me going.” Ideas flowed, and so did the words.

Although that first “tome” is still as yet unpublished, the third book I wrote, FIRE EYES, was

first published with The Wild Rose Press in May 2009, and went on to become an EPIC Award finalist. Since then, that story has been re-released through WESTERN TRAIL BLAZER just this past month, and is enjoying a fabulous new JIMMY THOMAS cover (created by Karen M. Nutt) and a new lease on life, since I was able to add back in much of what had had to be cut before with TWRP.

The fourth book I wrote, TIME PLAINS DRIFTER, was published through another smaller press. After a few short months, we parted ways, and TIME PLAINS DRIFTER found a great home at WTB. With a wonderful 4 ½ star review from Romantic Times, I’m very happy to have this great story back out there with such a wonderful company. My daughter designed my cover for this book so it’s very special to me. It also garnered me the award of Honorable Mention for Best New Paranormal Author in PNR’s PEARL Awards for 2010.

I live in Oklahoma City with my “transplanted” (from West Virginia) husband, Gary, who is retired

from the FAA. My daughter, Jessica, is 25 and works at an actors’ casting agency here. My son, Casey, is 22 and just graduated with a bachelors’ degree in math and an associates’ degree in physics (and believe me, those math and science genes did not come from me!) Along with my business partner, I teach writing classes for all ages, and have done lots of work with the Indian Education Program for one of the major school systems here in OK City. And I’m FINALLY getting to actually write!

My other releases with VICTORY TALES PRESS and WESTERN TRAIL BLAZER are available on their websites and here on the blog as soon as the links go live. This is a brand new blog and we are still adding, revising and “tweaking” it, so it will only get better and better as time goes by.
I’m offering a giveaway today for my newest release with WESTERN TRAIL BLAZER publishing, FIRE EYES. All you have to do is leave a comment. You can find all my releases from The Wild Rose Press, Western Trail Blazer, and Victory Tales Press at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and many other fine e-book and print booksellers.

Cheryl's Amazon Author Page:
Thanks to everyone who stopped by today to read. Please don’t forget to comment! I’ll leave you with a blurb and excerpt from Fire Eyes:

Marshal Kaed Turner is given a rare second chance at love with the mysterious woman the Choctaw call “Fire Eyes.” But can he quiet the ghosts from his past and protect the love that was stolen from him once before? There’s only one way: Kill outlaw Andrew Fallon, along with the murdering band of men he leads.

THE SET UP: Marshal Kaed Turner has been deposited on widow Jessica Monroe's front porch by a band of Choctaw Indians with orders from the chieftain: "Do not let him die." But can she save him? He's been severely beaten by a band of renegades that run the borderlands between Arkansas and Indian Territory. The last man they brought to her doorstep died. What will become of Marshal Turner? Can she save him?

The bath could be put off no longer. Kaed lay quietly, watching Jessica's nervousness.
"Jessi." When she looked at him, his bones liquefied. She wanted him. All question of how the night would end were answered as their eyes met and held over an achingly sweet moment.

Jessica sank her teeth into her lower lip, her fingers moving to the tiny row of buttons at the front of her day dress. She slowly began to work them open. "Kaed, would you, um, I mean, well, I need to get my bath now."

"I suppose that means I need to at least turn my head." His mouth was dry. It was hot in the cabin all of a sudden.

"Uh-huh." She kept right on unbuttoning the buttons, caught in his gaze. "And close your eyes."

Yeah, well it wouldn't matter if he did. He'd still see the picture she burned in his mind as she stood there opening those buttonholes.

Her fingers hesitated at the button just above the rich swell of her breasts. Kaed wet his lips, not turning his head or closing his eyes.

"Kaed?" Her voice was a husky whisper. That made him close his eyes. The sound of his name on her lips had him imagining doing all the things that a man did with a woman. All the things that were soon to come.

God. The heat was unbearable.

"Huh?" He slitted his still-swollen eyes open and saw she had released that button and moved down to the next one. He gritted his teeth.

"Turn…your…head." A teasing smile played about her mouth, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was imagining.

Turning away would be a good thing right about now. If he could only persuade his neck to cooperate.
"Yeah. Okay." He turned his face toward the window. Sort of.

"I'm trusting you."

Kaed sighed, frustrated. "I know." It was the one thing she might've said that would have kept him true to his word, that part about trusting. He couldn't betray that. "I've gotta move slow. Hurts."

"Don't—" The dress whispered to the floor.

"I won't," he gritted, the words bitter in his mouth.

OH MY! I wonder what happens after that bath? Please leave a comment. I love to hear from readers and other writers!