Okay, so I know that this post is VERY late.
It really should have gone up last week, but as the saying goes 'Better late than never.' :)
The Wicked Valentine’s Read-A-Thon is a time when we all get together to dedicate the days of February 7-14 to as much reading as possible. You read as much as you can in order to get yourself a little further through that huge to-read pile! We know real life gets in the way and even if you can’t participate more than one day, you’re welcome to join in on the fun!
More about the Read-a-thon:
When participating, you only have to read. However, it’s always fun reading starting posts and updates on your progress throughout the event! Even settling with a wrap-up post only to show how the reading went when it’s over, is fine.
The Read-A-Thon will officially start Thursday, February 7 at 12:01am EST and end Thursday, February 14 at 23:59pm EST.
Find other participants’ updates through the linky below or at #WWReadathon on Twitter!
MY GOALS
Because life is a little crazy for me at the moment I don't want to over commit! But I do aim to read at least 3 books in full, as well as to finish a book that I'm halfway done with. I also pledge to post a review of each book I read before the read-a-thon is over!
I'm not going to list specific books, as I have so many review books and tour books to read right now, that I'm just gonna wing it :)
Continuing this edition are the Twitter Parties! We’re having two parties:
Saturday 4-6PM EST and Tuesday 8-10PM EST
You’ll have a chance to win some prizes on there as well, so be sure to stop by!Of course we’ll be there throughout the week too, though!
Here’s the schedule for the challenges that will be held during the week. Every challenge will go on for 24 hours and feature an international giveaway as well!
Thursday, February 7: 9AM – 9AM EST | The Love ‘Ship | April @ My Shelf Confessions √
Money and murder go hand in glove in
the rarified art world of Reba White Williams's exciting first novel,
Restrike.
Cousins Coleman and Dinah Greene moved from
North Carolina to New York after college to make their mark on the art world:
Coleman is the editor of an influential arts magazine and Dinah is the owner of
a print gallery in Greenwich Village. But their challenges are mounting as one
of Coleman's writers is discovered selling story ideas to a competitor and The
Greene Gallery is in the red because sales are down.
When billionaire Heyward Bain arrives with a
glamorous assistant, announcing plans to fund a fine print museum, Coleman is
intrigued and plans to get to know Bain and publish an article about him. Dinah
hopes to sell him enough prints to save her gallery. At the same time,
swindlers, attracted by Bain’s lavish spending, invade the print world to grab
some of his money.
When a print dealer dies in peculiar
circumstances, Coleman is suspicious, but she can’t persuade the NYPD crime
investigator of a connection between the dealer’s death and Bain’s buying spree.
After one of Coleman’s editors is killed and Coleman is attacked, the police
must acknowledge the connection, and Coleman becomes even more determined to
discover the truth about Bain. In an unforgettable final scene, Coleman risks
her life to expose the last deception threatening her, her friends, and the
formerly tranquil print world.
Murder mysteries are always exciting to read. They allow the reader to escape reality and play detective for a few hours. And then there's always that moment of anticipation when the perp is finally revealed.
Williams does a brilliant job of keeping the suspense alive with each turn of the page, and there is never a dull moment as murder, greed, hidden pasts and family secrets grip the art world.
There are a multitude of interesting characters, and even though the story's main focus is the murder of a print dealer and Coleman's determination to discover the truth about his death, each character has their own side-story which kept the story flowing and added to the main plot. The mystery unraveled at a good pace, revealing some very surprising truths about certain characters.
All these truths, along with the many twists and turns within the plot, culminate in one thrilling ending with even more surprises.
I enjoyed every minute spent amongst the pages of this fantastic read. Lovers of suspense and mystery will be riveted by this book.
It deserves nothing less than...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I was born in Mississippi, and until I was ten, attended public schools in Mississippi and Tennessee. When I was in the fifth grade, my parents moved to the small town in North Carolina where my mother was born, and where her mother and sister lived. I earned my high school diploma at St. Mary’s, a private girls’ school in Raleigh, and my BA at Duke. When I was 21, I took a train to New York to seek my fortune. I’ve lived in New York City and Connecticut ever since, except for two years in Boston at graduate school.
I planned to make my living writing novels. But in New York, economic reality caught up with me, and I wrote about art, and business and finance, because that’s what I could get into print, and what paid the rent. Along the way, I earned my MBA at Harvard, my MA in Art History at Hunter, my PhD in Art History at the Graduate Center, CUNY, and my MA in Fiction Writing at Antioch University.
I’ve had a host of part-time jobs, from answering telephones to stuffing flyers in envelopes. I’ve worked as a library assistant, researcher at a management consulting firm, a Wall Street securities analyst, and writer for Institutional Investor magazine and other financial publications.
I’ve written articles for numerous art and financial magazines, including Art & Auction, Print Quarterly, and Institutional Investor. I’ve served on the Print Committees of the Metropolitan Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and the Whitney Museum. I’ve been a member of the Editorial Board of Print Quarterly, and I am an Honorary Keeper of American Prints at the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge University. I’ve served as President of the New York City Art Commission, and Vice Chairman of the New York State Council on the Arts.
Fine-art print collecting, in collaboration with my husband, has been a major activity, and prompted me to return to school for a PhD in Art History. We used our collection, thought to be the largest of its type—prints by American artists—to create traveling exhibitions. We circulated seventeen separate exhibits to over one hundred museums worldwide, and I did most of the research and wrote the exhibition catalogues. In December 2008, most of our collection—about 5000 prints—was donated to the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, but we are still recognized as experts in the field.
Anistasia moves a lot
to get away from her past. But when she lands in Brooksville she runs into
John. Something about him just makes her feel so safe and he can't get her off
his mind. The two soon learn they actually have more in common than they could
possibly ever know.
John had started piling a few things on the table,
"I'll take her to the clinic tomorrow if she's not feeling any better.
Anistasia and I are going for a picnic. She let me in her door so now I owe her
a date." He didn't mention anything about Xander, he wasn't sure if
Anistasia would want her to know, so he would tell his mom later and have her
keep quiet about it.
Anistasia felt herself turn blush red at how that
sounded. “You know you didn’t have to come in the door.” She smiled turning to
look at John and the food he was piling on the table. “Then you wouldn’t have
to be forced onto this date with me.” She couldn’t help but laugh at her words
and smile. Keeping a straight face was a lot harder than it should have been.
She walked over next to the table. “Do you want me to help you do anything?”
She asked looking down at the array of food.
"Tell me what you'd like so we don't have to
take so much." He said standing straight and looking at what he had
gathered. "I'd hate to say but I haven't done this since I've been with
Rachel, and she's an incredibly indecisive person." His mother cringed a
bit at his mention of Rachel. She thought it wasn't wise to mention an ex in
front of another girl on a date. John smiled at his mother's reaction.
"Don't worry, where we're going she would never dare travel. So it’s
something different entirely."
Anistasia smiled and laughed. "Well let’s see
what looks good..." After some time looking over the food and sorting out
some chips, fruit salad, left over mac n cheese, some sandwiches, and a large
slice of cake she helped put the rest back in the fridge. "That looks like
a good meal." She laughed and smiled. "That is probably smart of her.
I still owe her for these claw marks on my cheek but now I'm a little excited.
Are we going to a haunted house or something?" She laughed at her own
stupid joke.
He chuckled "Well that's where we're going to
start." He then finished packing up everything in a bag he found.
"Ready?" He asked Anistasia. "Sounds adventurous, I'm ready when
you are." She smiled and looked back at his mother. "It was a
pleasure to meet you."
"You too dear." His mom bid them farewell
and once again John opened and closed the door for Anistasia. When they were
all set in the car he drove off away from the town and into the outskirts
towards some mountains in the distance.
Anistasia stared out the car window as the houses
got further apart and the trees and open fields took up the landscape. "It
is so gorgeous out here." She spoke in awe of the scenery she was taking in.
He glanced over to her and smiled at her pleasure,
"I always thought so." he said. Not too long later he pulled into a
dirt driveway hidden by trees, down the road it lead to a house in the middle
of a clearing. The house was decent sized and starting to fall into disrepair.
"There it is." He smiled looking over at her before noticing that a
couple of black cars were parked in front of the house. His face turned grim
"Hold on." He told Anastasia in a panic, his corvette's engine screaming,
he pulled a 180 in the dirt and sped off back down the driveway and towards
town, far faster than he had driven up.
EXCERPT #2
Anistasia stepped towards the door of her car.
"Get away from me." She grumbled through gritted teeth.
"Oh you know I can't do that. You're worth a
very big cash out Miss Cloud. I am here to cash in before John's father decides
he wants the money. Personally I would have just shot you instead of taken your
picture like that snobby reporter he has working for him."
All of the sudden Anistasia's mood changed.
"The reporter for the paper that watches John's races works for his
dad?" She moved closer to Jason.
Jason swallowed as Anistasia's charm started to get
to him. "Yeah, him and two of his interns. One he trust and the other he
doesn't know works for him." Jason looked Anistasia up and down.
"Jason,
how many people does John's father have keeping track of his family?" She
smiled softly.
"I can't tell you that. It's classified."
He started to move away from her. "I'll shoot you Anistasia. Stop trying
to entice me." He fumbled for his gun.
"How many Jason?" She stopped moving
towards him. She didn't want to be too far away from the safety of her car.
"More than a dozen." He finally said and
raised the gun. "I only tell you because you'll never get to tell him.
John is pretty protective of the things he loves. So when John's dad paid the
Mayor to help them out it worked well until Rachel started to use the help to
date John. Oh well, we both know that you can't trust anyone in this
world."
Anistasia screamed as a gunshot filled the silence.
REVIEW
The Fast and the Furious meets Mean Girls in the first book of The Blazing Charm series.
It was clear from the start that Anistasia is a girl with a past and many secrets, and I was intrigued to find out just what her story was. John seemed to be a pretty straight forward character but as the story unfolded, his own secrets came to the surface, revealing that the two have much more in common than their love for fast cars and racing.
This book had plenty of potential, with an exciting plot, but I felt there were a few grammatical issues that stopped me from really connecting with the characters and story enough to enjoy it all the way through. I didn't quite feel the chemistry between John and Anistasia until half way through and I was a little surprised by some of the decisions the MCs made, especially Anistasia.
It was nice to see a confident female MC, because all too often in highschool based stories the girl feels she is not good enough for the guy. Whether it was due to her past or just the way she is, Anistasia held her own and never once backed down, even when it came to racing John.
Overall, I was expecting more from this story, but it was a quick, fun read either way.
It gets...
*Disclosure of Material
Connection: I am a member of The Turning The Pages Book News Review Crew and a
copy of this book was provided to me by the author. Although payment may have
been received by The Turning The Pages Book News Review Crew, no payment was
received by me in exchange for this review nor was there an obligation to write
a positive one. All opinions expressed here are entirely of my own and may not
necessarily agree with those of the author, the book's publisher and publicist
or the readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the
Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning the Use of
Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.*
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Toni Sinns was born and raised in Western North Carolina before moving to Central Florida in 2011. She is an upcoming author/writer with a mind in multiple genres of novels and books. She is currently working on multiple novels that you can read about on her website also you can catch her random thoughts on her blog.
Welcome to my third and final stop on the William
Sibley's Sighs Too Deep For Words Blog Tour hosted by JKS Communications.
SYNOPSIS
SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is the story of a man
in prison who falls in love, through lengthy correspondence, with a woman he’s
never met. Getting out, he goes to find her and discovers that the love letters
he’s received were written not by a woman but by a closeted gay man — a small
town minister. Not only did the minister deceive the prisoner, but he sent a
photograph of his sister (who lives with him) as a picture representing himself.
And not only is the sister unaware of the ruse, but she herself happens to be a
lesbian. The ex-prisoner has fallen in love physically with a woman who doesn’t
know he exists, and mentally with a man he doesn’t know how to love. Set in the
scenic Texas Gulf Coast fishing village of Rockport, SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is
a darkly humorous and contemplative examination of the parameters of love, sex,
sexuality and cultural perspective.
Sighs Too Deep For Words is a wonderful story of
love, friendship, inspiration and self-discovery.
Lester Briggs, although a little intimidating, is a compassionate,
warm-hearted man whose only goal after being released from prison, is to find
the one person who reached out to him while he was incarcerated. Laurel
Jeanette gave him hope that love and life exists outside of Diboll. But Lester
soon discovers that not all is as it seems, and his life weaves a different
path bringing him unexpected friendship and the emotional realization of the
love he so desperately seeks, in the form of someone he already shares a deep connection
with.
There are many quirky characters throughout this
story and it was interesting to see how each relationship panned out. I
particularly enjoyed Melanie and Daniel. Although I would have run a mile the
minute I met them (because they are both crazy), they brought a certain fun and
light element to a story that contained some serious subject matter.
Family secrets, mixed signals and Lester’s hunt for
love made for an exciting read. It was emotionally charged and pulled at my
heart strings as I walked the journey with Lester, hoping against hope that he’d
find happiness. The ending was a pleasant surprise and I was satisfied with
turning the last page knowing that all would be right in Lester’s world.
Because sometimes it takes your world falling to pieces to truly find what you are looking for.
It gets...
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
William Jack Sibley's first
novel ANY KIND OF LUCK (www.anykindofluck.weebly.com) was published by
Kensington in 2001. It was nominated for a Lambda award (Best Romance), The
Texas Institute of Letters "Funniest Book of the Year" John Bloom Award and the
ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year. His play MORTALLY FINE was produced
Off-Broadway and numerous of his screenplays have been optioned by such
directors and actors as John Schlesinger, Arthur Hiller and Diane Ladd. His
writing has appeared in the UTNE READER, HALLMARK MAGAZINE, BRILLIANT MAGAZINE,
THE SAN ANTONIO CURRENT, THE ORLANDO WEEKLY, THE DALLAS TIMES HERALD, HERITAGE
MAGAZINE, TEXAS CO-OP MAGAZINE, THE DEAD MULE ("A Journal of Southern
Literature"), FLYING COLORS, SOUTHWEST AIRLINES MAGAZINE and THE NEW YORK
NATIVE. In addition to screenwriting, playwrighting and journalism Sibley is a
fifth generation Texan who oversees his family's ranching operations in South
Texas.
Welcome to my second stop on the William Sibley's
Sighs Too Deep For Words Blog Tour hosted by JKS
Communications.
SYNOPSIS
SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is the story of a man
in prison who falls in love, through lengthy correspondence, with a woman he’s
never met. Getting out, he goes to find her and discovers that the love letters
he’s received were written not by a woman but by a closeted gay man — a small
town minister. Not only did the minister deceive the prisoner, but he sent a
photograph of his sister (who lives with him) as a picture representing himself.
And not only is the sister unaware of the ruse, but she herself happens to be a
lesbian. The ex-prisoner has fallen in love physically with a woman who doesn’t
know he exists, and mentally with a man he doesn’t know how to love. Set in the
scenic Texas Gulf Coast fishing village of Rockport, SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is
a darkly humorous and contemplative examination of the parameters of love, sex,
sexuality and cultural perspective.
Today I have the..errr...pleasure of having the somewhat intimidating, but warm-hearted, Lester Briggs join me.
Hello, Lester.
1. Tell us a bit more about yourself.
I'm
that quiet guy that sat behind you all through grade school, staring at the
back of your neck and wishing you'd just turn around and say "hi."
But I was too shy and you were too popular and we were both too
self-involved. You sure were pretty though!
Errr...um...thanks.(I think!)
2. How did it feel stepping back into the world outside
of Diboll prison?
Scary, strange and
liberating (in an intimidating sort of way.)
3.
You had one goal in mind, and that was to
find, Laurel. Were you that sure of your relationship, that you believed
walking into her life was the right thing to do?
Oh yes. All
I'd ever concentrated on in prison was my love for Laurel Jeanette. That
and Little Ray, of course.
Hmmm, how romantic.
4. Rockport certainly has its fair share of quirky
characters. When you first arrived, it seemed like you couldn't escape the
whole 'released convict' vibe, how did that make you feel?
I figured it was
everyone else's problem. Not mine. I mean, you can't fix people
preconceptions, right? All you can be is you.
5. When you met Melanie and Daniel for the first time,
were there no alarm bells going off in your head? They both seemed a little of
their rockers.
Hey, you're
forgetting I'd just come from 4 years in prison. The whole world's a
little crazy!
Haha! Okay, gotta give you that one, but I would have run a mile if they ever offered me a ride.
6. The people of Rockport were all very welcoming and
trusting, for the most part, and I'm sure it's safe to say they've become your
family. Did you ever expect something like that to happen to you?
Not really. But
like my granddad used to say, "Give people half a chance and they'll
either break your heart or fill it with love." Seems like all any of
us can do is take that chance.
7. How did it really feel when you learned of Philip's
betrayal?
Like I'd fallen
off the roof, got the wind knocked outta me and couldn't even remember my name.
It's a horrible, sick feeling being betrayed in that way. Mutual disgust
really, at yourself and at the perpetrator. Go ask Manti Te'o that
question!!'
*Tentatively reaches over to pat Lester's hand, but quickly thinks better of it* I can relate to that.
8. You were still infatuated with Luz, depsite the truth,
why is that?
I'd fallen in love
with a picture - to my eyes a beautiful, deeply caring and thoughtful woman.
When I got to know her it became a different picture. More
"real" perhaps - but the newer version just as intriguing.
9. Do you think that all the craziness surrounding your
relationships with different people in Rockport helped you to realize your true
sexuality, and your true love?
What it helped me
to understand is that I was running away and toward something that I couldn't
(or wouldn't) fully comprehend. For some of us it's a process. A long,
difficult process. Sometimes we get there, sometimes we don't and
sometimes we actually arrive and then refuse to even disembark. Every life
is unique. To judge, condemn or grow impatient with someone else's
journey is entirely futile.
Bravo, I couldn't have said it better.
10. If you had to do it all again, would you change
anything?
Start wearing that hat Mr. Otis
gave me a lot sooner!
A huge thank you for giving me a chance to get to know you better! You are truly insightful and I have grown to admire you in so many ways. Your story is inspirational.
I wish you everything of the best.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
William Jack Sibley's first novel ANY KIND OF LUCK
(www.anykindofluck.weebly.com) was published by Kensington in 2001. It was
nominated for a Lambda award (Best Romance), The Texas Institute of Letters
"Funniest Book of the Year" John Bloom Award and the ForeWord Magazine Book of
the Year. His play MORTALLY FINE was produced Off-Broadway and numerous of his
screenplays have been optioned by such directors and actors as John Schlesinger,
Arthur Hiller and Diane Ladd. His writing has appeared in the UTNE READER,
HALLMARK MAGAZINE, BRILLIANT MAGAZINE, THE SAN ANTONIO CURRENT, THE ORLANDO
WEEKLY, THE DALLAS TIMES HERALD, HERITAGE MAGAZINE, TEXAS CO-OP MAGAZINE, THE
DEAD MULE ("A Journal of Southern Literature"), FLYING COLORS, SOUTHWEST
AIRLINES MAGAZINE and THE NEW YORK NATIVE. In addition to screenwriting,
playwrighting and journalism Sibley is a fifth generation Texan who oversees his
family's ranching operations in South Texas.
She is desperate to remember.
He is aching to forget.
Together, they are not broken.
But together, one may not survive.
Jade wakes up with no memory of her past and blood on her hands.
Plagued by wicked thoughts, she searches for answers. Instead, she finds a boy
who doesn't offer her answers, but hope. But sometimes, when nightmares turn
into reality and death follows you everywhere, hope is not enough.
LUST. LOVE. LOSS. Sometimes, all that is left are Ashes and Ice.
Check out the Book Trailer:
Excerpt #1
Jade
The girl’s glassy, dead eyes stare into me, through me, pierce me with a fierce
urgency, with a wicked accusation. The blood is still on my hands.
Red hair, blue eyes, a constellation of freckles on pale skin. She was fragile
and innocent, a lovely thing. That is what I think until I see the gashes on
her wrists and throat. With her blood spilling out, she looks delicious. She’s
mine. Possessiveness shocks me, stabs into me. I run, tearing away from a craving
I don't understand.
Breathless, I grit my teeth and run harder, faster.
My feet pound against the earth, away from the lifeless body and toward the
lights of the city lingering on the horizon. Rot and death linger in my
nostrils. Unscarred skin stretches taut over my freezing bones. Echoes of an
empty memory reverberate in my mind, taunting me. The ice chases me, clutches
me, and bites at my heels, sending shivers up my spine. The ice wants me back,
but I run forward, toward the lights, toward the heat, toward a world that
burns me, because I have no other choice.
The lights are so close. Heat scalds my skin.
Images race through my mind, paralyzing me. I skid to a stop, my boots digging
into the mud. The vision’s blurred edges materialize into solid shapes.
I gasp.
A new horror rakes my insides. Desperation propels me forward; the pictures
nagging at my seams threaten to tear me apart.
Scorching fire licks over my skin. In my vision, I contort like a vile, ugly
creature, eyes as black as decay. My frame hunches over the small, dead girl,
like a demon looming over a defenseless child. Her blood drips from my mouth.
I lick my lips and taste only salty sweat.
I run, desperate to trample the vision under my feet, to crush it deep into the
ground.
I refuse to believe the image, refuse to acknowledge the monster within me
demanding to be unleashed—and the possibility it has already been unbound. An
unrelenting tide of fear washes over me. Past the denial, the fear, and the
hope, I think I can still taste her.
The cold stillness inside me cracks open just as the lights of the city slam
into me.
Excerpt #2
Connor
Tears burn. I never realized it before, but they do. Tears reach down my throat
and settle in my gut until the pain cripples me. I clutch my stomach as I look
into the casket. His face doesn’t even look the same. Bloated like a Mardi Gras
float, discolored like a mannequin. This isn’t my father.
But it is.
If I have learned anything in my short life, it is this: funerals are bullshit.
People dress in carefully pressed black suits. Parents give me “meaningful”
nods as if that could ease the grief. It doesn’t.
Then there are the kids from school, the ones dragged along by their parents.
People drag their kids along as if filling the church was a necessary thing. As
if the more pews filled somehow expedite the dead’s trip to heaven. I doubt it
does. Maybe some of the girls went shopping to buy just the right outfit so
their cleavage to respectability ratio was just right, or their ass to
waist ratio was cinched properly.
People sit in the pews dressed in their finest
let’s-go-pay-our-respects-to-the-dead-guy-we-never-knew wear, smacking the gum
in their mouths, cupping cellphones so they can LOL any comment buzzing
in, and drumming their fingers because the pastor is going on too long.
All they want to do is go home, sneak in a make-out session with their
girlfriends, eat their dinners, and maybe catch a 7 o’clock movie.
I hate these kids. The ones who stare at me, roll their eyes, and yawn. The
ones who trip me at school and slam me into lockers. The ones who sit in a pew,
contributing to the headcount, while I sit up here in front, holding back the
tears fighting to make their appearance. I swallow them down. I won’t cry. Not
here. Not with these people.
Dad’s funeral should be an empty church with mom, his three brothers, and me.
It should be the five of us having a messy, sloppy, sobbing affair where we
cling to each other because we are all we have left. The marble floors should
be slick with our tears. It isn’t. We sit here, straight backed, completely
composed as if death is just a passing expiration date and our small,
insignificant world has not been split open and left gaping.
***
I’m in my room, staring at the ceiling. The funeral service was hours ago.
The house feels empty and cold. I hear a stifled whimper from down the hall.
Mom.
Probably crying into a pillow so the house can’t hear, but it can. It seems
unfair she can’t wail aloud, so loud the house’s hundred-year-old studs
tremble.
She doesn’t. I don’t either. We cry in our own rooms, remembering a man who
will never be here again.
The house creaks. Maybe it feels the weight of our grief, maybe the floorboards
are buckling because the burden is too heavy.
I ache, desperate to forget the long battle with cancer, the blood sputtering
out of his mouth with his last words—what where they? I can’t remember because
the fear in his eyes overshadowed anything he said. Now the loss. I don’t want
to feel this loss. Some divine entity has taken dull scissors and cut out a
piece of my life and now I have jagged scars to remind me I lost too much. Too
much.
I want to forget, because it hurts to remember.
I bury my head in the pillow, hoping to suffocate the memories, to choke out
the pain.
Excerpt #3
“Have you ever been in love?”
I spill my popcorn on my lap. “I, uh, what?” I say, swiping off the kernels.
The question catches me off guard.
“You know, in love.”
“No. No, I haven’t.” I shift on the couch, needing more space between us. “What
about you?”
“Nah.” She flicks her hand toward me as if she is brushing away nonsense, but
the hard look in her eyes says something different.
“Why?”
She points to the TV screen and the couple making out there. “Figured if you
had been, then you could explain that to me.”
The guy sweeps the girl up and carries her into bed before they… you know. “Uh,
sex?”
She bursts out laughing. “That too. But I was talking about what it feels
like to be, you know, in love. Totally, without question. Like, does that,” she
points to the screen again, “exist?”
“Yeah, I think it exists.” I think of mom and dad—the way they kissed every
morning, hugged a few moments longer than anyone else, laughed so hard they
cried, and cuddled, shutting out the world, looking more content than these
fakers on the screen. “It exists. And in real life, it’s better than that
crap.” I say, suddenly uncomfortable by the moaning coming from the TV.
“I thought you said you’ve never been in love?”
“I haven’t. But I’ve seen it. And I haven’t ever seen anything come close to
that in the movies.”
She opens her mouth as if about to ask a question, but then closes it and
smiles, accepting my answer. “Well, it’s good that there may be something in
life to look forward to.” She drops a kernel of popcorn in her mouth.
“May be?”
“Well nothing is guaranteed. Who knows, I may die an old spinster.” She’s
smiling, but her eyes aren’t.
I think about the movie store guy’s possessive eyes, Jesse’s chair fiasco, and
Dominic’s leering, my heart. “I doubt that.”
Excerpt #4
He smiles a bit wider and hands out
the pin.
As, I reach to pluck it from his palm, he snatches my wrist with one hand, my
bicep with the other and crushes me against his chest.
His grip is tight—too tight, it hurts—and the bend of him hovers over me,
leaning in. I try to shake him off, but he doesn’t let go. I squirm as I feel
his thumb trace circles on the inside of my wrist. The touch sends a skitter of
sensation over me. Something tinges the air; a sweet, cool feeling brushes over
my skin, making my knees want to buckle. He smells like mint, his breath
tickles my face. I pull back, hating the sensations that please my skin and
curdle my insides. Bile surges in my throat. I tear myself away from him,
glaring.
“What?” He says coolly as if he hadn’t just bruised my arms with his clutching
fingertips.
“That. Hurt.” I say. I don’t say he smells sweet or his breath is refreshing on
my skin or his touch sends chills up my spine, delicious chills. I step away.
His smile is unnerving. “Don’t worry, Jade.” He winks at me. Damn that wink of
his. “One day, you’ll like it.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rochelle grew up dreaming up stories. When she entered high
school, she tucked away her creative side and jumped head-first into academics,
work, and service projects. She graduated summa cum laude with a degree in
Political Science and Communication when she was twenty years old. After years
away from her writing, Rochelle picked up a pen and started fleshing out a
character sketch that she outlined when she was twelve. That sketch was the
start of the Ashes and Ice story. Rochelle lives in the DC metro area with her
husband and daughter. By day she works as a behavioral therapist. By night, she
is a dreamer and is busy tapping out new stories on her keyboard.
Welcome to my first stop on the William Sibley's Sighs Too Deep For Words Blog Tour hosted by JKS Communications.
SYNOPSIS
SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is the story of a man in
prison who falls in love, through lengthy correspondence, with a woman he’s
never met. Getting out, he goes to find her and discovers that the love letters
he’s received were written not by a woman but by a closeted gay man — a small
town minister. Not only did the minister deceive the prisoner, but he sent a
photograph of his sister (who lives with him) as a picture representing himself.
And not only is the sister unaware of the ruse, but she herself happens to be a
lesbian. The ex-prisoner has fallen in love physically with a woman who doesn’t
know he exists, and mentally with a man he doesn’t know how to love. Set in the
scenic Texas Gulf Coast fishing village of Rockport, SIGHS TOO DEEP FOR WORDS is
a darkly humorous and contemplative examination of the parameters of love, sex,
sexuality and cultural perspective.
And now, it is my honor to present the amazingly talented Mr William Jack Sibley for a quick chat!
Hi William,
Thanks for joining me today!
1. Tell us
a bit more about yourself.
I have zero bad cholesterol. I cry at
any "animal in danger" movie. I DID NOT write the movie
"TITANTIC."
2. Describe
yourself in three words.
Unabashedly, irrepressibly me.
3. What
five things do you never leave home without? Keys, chap stick, drivers license, sunglasses,
underwear
4. What do
you do when you are not writing? Eat, sleep, think about sex, drive to the
ranch, work at the ranch, pay bills, think about sex, try to visit a friend
once a day, think about next writing project, plan exotic travel that may or
may not happen, think about sex; repeat.
5. Who/What
inspired you to write your first novel?
Living in Hollywood - struggling as a
repeatedly optioned screenwriter, but never produced - turned me into a
novelist. I figured anything would be better than the Hollywood insanity.
(Boy was I naive!)
6. What has
been your most rewarding experience on the road to being published?
a. - getting published
b. - surviving the "getting
published" part..
7. What is
the best piece of advice you have been given as an author?
Stop whining! Just write.
8. What
advice would you give to aspiring authors?
STOP WHINING! JUST WRITE!
9. Who are
your favorite authors to read?
Anyone writing non fiction that enlightens,
reveals and entertains with facts, stories and information unknown to me.
I love being surreptitiously educated when I read.
10. Tell us a bit about
Sighs Too Deep For Words.
Try to remember this is more than just a
simple story of one man and his search for love. It's also about a town,
a community and a society that both uphold and challenge his search
concurrently. We're all bit players in each other's drama, fact.
11. Are any of your
characters based on someone you know?
ALL of them (names withheld to protect the
innocent.)
12. Who is your
favorite character, and why?
Oh, I think everyone likes Mr. Otis.
He's the real deal.
13. Are you working on
any special projects at the moment?
Yep, got a new novel in the pipeline. Not
gonna jinx it though!
14. Besides being a
successful novelist, you’re a playwright and screenwriter. Tell us a bit about
your other work and accomplishments.
Oh, too many to mention here. You can
read it all on my website - www.williamjacksibley.com. Did recently do a wonderful staged workshop
in New York of a new play of mine called "MEAN" with the incredible
Ellen Burstyn and Saturday Night Live's Rachel Dratch. That was awesome!
15. Where can readers stalk you?
Hmm - well I don't live too far actually from
The Alamo - :)
Bring
your coon skin cap!
WOW!! What a brilliant interview. I feel like I've been on the craziest rollercoaster ride, and loved every minute of it! Thanks once again for stopping by, William. I cannot wait to read your future work.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
William Jack Sibley's first novel ANY KIND OF LUCK
(www.anykindofluck.weebly.com) was published by Kensington in 2001. It was
nominated for a Lambda award (Best Romance), The Texas Institute of Letters
"Funniest Book of the Year" John Bloom Award and the ForeWord Magazine Book of
the Year. His play MORTALLY FINE was produced Off-Broadway and numerous of his
screenplays have been optioned by such directors and actors as John Schlesinger,
Arthur Hiller and Diane Ladd. His writing has appeared in the UTNE READER,
HALLMARK MAGAZINE, BRILLIANT MAGAZINE, THE SAN ANTONIO CURRENT, THE ORLANDO
WEEKLY, THE DALLAS TIMES HERALD, HERITAGE MAGAZINE, TEXAS CO-OP MAGAZINE, THE
DEAD MULE ("A Journal of Southern Literature"), FLYING COLORS, SOUTHWEST
AIRLINES MAGAZINE and THE NEW YORK NATIVE. In addition to screenwriting,
playwrighting and journalism Sibley is a fifth generation Texan who oversees his
family's ranching operations in South Texas.
