November 7, 2014
THANKFUL AUTHOR BLOG ROUNDUP
Featuring Veronica Lynch
What I'm thankful for
I am thankful for a profession I can always fall back on [nursing]; hobbies which keep me sane [designing and creating tote bags and aprons]; my loyal and devoted husband; and my darling children and grandchildren.
Thank you so very much for having me visit today, Angela; I always like to talk about myself. Not.
Three words which describe me: Acerbic; Brash; Cooperative with those who treat me well.
My three favorite things actually number four: Meredith, Owen, Ashlin and Kieran.
All my characters possess many of my qualities, good and bad. They tend to be impatient with people who cannot or will not make a decision; they tend to have smart mouths; have a low tolerance for fools; and do not respond well to arrogant people, men or women.
Music has always had a huge influence in my life. I love sixties doo-wop as well as marching
band music. Whenever I see or hear a band, I always get teary. One of my past books, Embraceable You, featured music and lyrics by George and Ira Gershwin. I'm currently working on a sequel to that story titled Love Walked In.
Caper Magic, a romantic novella, is part of the Hauntings in the Garden series for the Wild Rose Press. It is scheduled for digital release on October 27, 2014. It is also the first in a series of stories set in Cape Brendan, a tourist town located on a tiny spit of land at the eastern most edge of Lake Ontario where it bleeds into the Saint Lawrence River in northern New York State. The tentative title for the series, “The Wild Things” will feature men and women who are in some manner connected to the criminal justice system. Some are attorneys, some victim advocates, a few cops, several bad guys—former and current.
Where to reach me:
This attraction: Complete madness or—sheer magic?
P.I. Nick Forrester comes to Cape Brendan ostensibly to assist with Caper Madness, a month long celebration of everything Halloween. In reality he is tracking a woman on the run. Within days he is confronted by Annunciata Doyle, a vivid reminder of a pain-filled past.
After retreating to Cape Brendan in defeat and humiliation, Nunie Doyle's only hope was to make the best of forced retirement. There, in this quaint tourist town on the shores of Lake Ontario, she earned the love and respect of new friends and neighbors—and put her talent for helping women to good use.
With the mutual goal of making Caper Madness the best ever, Nick and Nunie fight tooth and nail on the personal level, each discovering a new side to the other, sides that make them consider making drastic changes for the rest of their lives.
Hank let out a holler just before a huge toothy grin spanned the borders of his gaunt cheeks. “Top o' the marnin' to ye, Missus!” he cackled to someone exiting the front door of the stone cottage next door.
Taking the concrete steps to the sidewalk in two lithe moves, a woman in a slinky dress the color of ripe tomatoes glanced their way and responded in a distinct Irish brogue. “And the ass end of the day to ye, Mistur Pierpont.”
Intrigued by rich tone of her voice, Nick craned his neck and found one of the witches from yesterday's parade—minus the droopy velvet hat—passing within steps of Hank's porch. A bulging garment bag hung over one arm; she looked headed in the direction of the pier at the end of Vincentian Lane. Damned if right then a wind didn't jump up off the lake and mold the filmy length of scarlet against each curve of her body. Long black hair—and there seemed to be a good ten pounds of it—flowed over her shoulders, caressing her body like a lover as she marched toward Dingle Pier. As his heart bumped into a trip hammer beat, Nick reminded himself to breathe.
“Ferget yer broom, Missus?” Hank called out to her retreating back.
“In the repair shop,” she replied over one shoulder, winging that glorious onyx hair away from lips painted to match her dress. “Gettin' fitted with a couple of those fancy turbo boosters, it is.”
Hank chuckled, then went back to his coffee. “Turbo boosters. That Nunie Doyle; sure is a pistol.”
An invisible fist reached down to grab Nick's gut in a vise. As recognition flared, long buried rage took a slow crawling path up his spine.
where to find my books:
Amazon [by title]