Black Hippie Chick's Take on: Prime Time by Jane Wenham~Jones

C’mon baby, light my crow’s feet

"LIGHTS. CAMERA. ACTION. That was the old Hollywood call that went out in the LA studios and for anyone who has agreed to do a television interview, it still rings true today.”

  So says Glenn Campbell, a TV journalist who came to film me at home for the BBC’sInside Out. I became an instant fan of Glen when he rooted around the house for a small lamp which he placed strategically at my feet. “You look 30, darling,” he emailed later, when the edit was in progress.

I was pleasantly surprised myself. There was one slightly saggy-jawed shot at the beginning where they’d panned in too close but even my son (who was cringing and keeping a weather eye on Facebook in case his friends had seen me) admitted, when it hit the screen, that I looked “OK”.

Praise - as other mothers of teenage boys will know – indeed.

Glenn, I decided, would therefore be a good person to quiz on the finer points of looking half-decent on TV. And you can read his full words of wisdom in my guide to self-promotion Wannabe a Writer We’ve Heard Of? (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wannabe-Writer-Weve-Heard-Of/dp/1906373973/ref=pd_sim_b_3)

But this was the bit that resonated with me – and which I’ve experienced to my cost.

 

“Good lighting makes you look good. It can add years to you, or it can flatter you beyond all recognition. It can make you look like a movie star. Why do you think they insist on seeing how they look when lit? After all, you may have a baggy chin, but a good lighting cameraman can make it vanish!”

 

I hope he wasn’t thinking of my own chin when he said that! But it was this undeniable truth that I had in mind when I started writing Prime Time. Laura’s story is very different from mine but let us say I empathise with her…J

*****

A British romantic comedy by Jane Wenham-Jones, author of 'Perfect Alibis'.

Laura Meredith never imagined herself appearing on TV, she's too old, too flabby, too downright hormonal, and much too busy holding things together for her son, Stanley, after her husband left her for a younger, thinner replacement. But best friend Charlotte is a determined woman and when Laura is persuaded on to a daytime show to talk about her PMT, everything changes. Suddenly there's a camera crew tracking her every move and Laura finds herself an unlikely star. But as things hot up between her and gorgeous TV director, Cal, they're going downhill elsewhere. While Laura's caught up in a heady whirlwind of beauty treatments, makeovers and glamorous film locations, Charlotte's husband, Roger, is concealing a guilty secret, Stanley's got problems at school, work's piling up, and when Laura turns detective to protect Charlotte's marriage, things go horribly wrong. The champagne's flowing as Laura's prime time TV debut looks set to be a hit. But in every month, there's a "Day Ten" ...

 

Buy links

Paperback:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1908766581/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelthouse-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=1908766581

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1908766581/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelt-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1908766581

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/prime-time-jane-wenham-jones/1107994945?ean=9781908766588

eBook:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B006M0TUQC/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelthouse-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B006M0TUQC

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006M0TUQC/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelt-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B006M0TUQC

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/prime-time-jane-wenham-jones/1107994945?ean=9781908262790

*****

Jane is the author of four novels and two non-fiction books – Wannabe a Writer? - a humorous look at becoming a scribe  - and Wannabe a Writer We’ve Heard Of?  a guide to the art of book and self promotion.  As a freelance journalist she has appeared in a wide range of women's magazines and national newspapers and writes regular columns for Woman's Weekly and Writing Magazine, where she is the agony aunt. Jane is an experienced tutor who is regularly booked by writing conferences and literary festivals to run workshops and give talks on all aspects of the writing process. She is also a member of Equity, has presented for the BBC on both TV and radio and has done her fair share of daytime TV, particularly when promoting her controversial second novel Perfect Alibis (subtitled How to have an affair and get away with it...) It was those – sometimes hair-raising – TV experiences that inspired Prime Time, her new novel. For more information see http://www.janewenham-jones.com and http://janewenhamjones.wordpress.com/.

Drowning Mermaids

  Drowning Mermaids by Nadia Scrieva   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ BLURB:   Deep under Arctic waters lies an ice kingdom carved into a glacier. Those who dwell within it possess magnificent biological secrets. Due to the dangers of impending war, the Princess of Adlivun is forced to flee her undersea utopia and regroup with her sisters in Alaska. Captain Trevain Murphy is a successful king crab fisherman who has spent his life building his empire above the sea, and knows nothing of the empire beneath it. When he meets a mysterious dancer whose father has recently died, he extends kindness towards her, unaware of her unique genetics and royal lineage. Trevain's attraction to the enigmatic Aazuria Vellamo will involve him in dangerous designs that will forever change his life, and his perspective on himself and his world. He embarks on perilous journeys in which he will need to release all of his insecurities and inhibitions in order to survive.   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Excerpt   It was his angel. He knew her, although she looked nothing like before. She was his Aazuria, his mythical heroine. In the dancing glow of the oil blaze, she was simply too dazzling to be real and he knew that he must be dying. As she hovered in suspension before him, her skin and hair were almost luminous in the dark water, almost phosphorescent. Perhaps she never had been real. It did not matter—she was firmly grasping his hands, and it sent a feeling of comfort and tranquility through him. He knew that she loved him.   He could see forgiveness and acceptance in her expression. None of the turmoil between them mattered any longer in this pacific moment. In her benevolent gaze, he could finally forgive himself. He smiled at her, although his vision was fading, and the world was disappearing. He tightly gripped her hands to thank her for coming back for him. He could not bear the thought of letting go; he did not want to be robbed of her touch. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as possible, to keep looking into her unfamiliar ultramarine orbs. So this was what she really looked like, in her element. He wished he could have known her true form. It was mystical.   Trevain could imagine no better way to die. No better sight to see the last time he closed his eyes. A peaceful smile descended on his face, and the captain’s tired eyes closed for what he knew to be the last time ever.    AUTHOR Bio and Links:   Nadia Scrieva was born in 1988 in Toronto, Canada. She studied English and Anthropology, graduating with an Honors B.A. from the University of Toronto in 2011. She likes knives. Writing has been the most meaningful part of her life since she was a child. Nadia loves receiving feedback from readers, so do not hesitate to contact her with any of your comments, questions, ideas, or just to say hello.    Website: www.NadiaScrieva.com   Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NadiaFans Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/NadiaScrieva Blog: http://nadiascrieva.blogspot.ca/ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Quintessential Gemini by Linn B. Halton

Title: The Quintessential Gemini Author: Linn B. Halton Publisher: Sapphire Star Publishing Length: 305 pages Genres: Contemporary Romance Available at: Sapphire Star Publishing Blurb: For twenty-one years, the focus of Katherine Dale’s life has been her work. Love interests and hobbies came and went, but what has always been there for her—her only constant other than her cat delightfully named No. 4—was her nine to five habit. Until she’s replaced. With her confidence dented, Katherine is angry at life and at herself. She’s ignored hints of “changes to come” in her horoscope forecasts, written by the wonderful and renowned astrologer, Mark Ainsley-Thomas. Mark is now an “A” list celebrity in the UK and his new Agent is determined to raise his profile in America, so he has to take on the new, but talented, astrologer James Kingman to help him run his web-site. Katherine lives her life according to her daily horoscope. When Katherine finds James has been writing her daily horoscopes rather than Mark, Katherine’s life explodes in confusion and, unexpectedly, love as the three lives become inextricably tangled. Insecurity, self-doubt, guilt, stress, and frustration, coupled with village gossips and merciless reporters wanting eye-catching headlines leave Katherine feeling vulnerable and in need of guidance. Now Katherine has to learn that the stars might be telling her that love is going to feature in her life, but when Katherine finds herself implicated in the headlines ‘Mystic Love Triangle Surprise’ she’s just as surprised as everyone else! None of the men in her life are love interests – so what exactly does fate have in store? Excerpt: My life is falling apart. I knew it, Mark isn’t writing the forecasts and a guy named James has now admitted this to me. I don’t have a problem with that at all, but what I need at this particular moment in time is Mark’s insightful guidance. He seems to be able to tap into the very essence of my life and give simple, yet incredibly relevant, clues. James, on the other hand, is probably catering for the masses; hence, I’m finding I can’t relate to anything he says. It took me all day yesterday emailing James, whom I assumed was Mark, to get to the bottom of the problem. Today is Wednesday and the talk is on Friday evening. Everyone in town is buzzing about it and this could be major humiliation. What should I do? I finally emailed James, asking very politely for Mark’s personal contact details. He came back with a standard, “Mark unfortunately isn’t available to…” I didn’t panic, just took a deep breath and turned to the internet. I found an interesting article about Mark and learned that he gives personal readings. Yes. Thankfully, the email address is different to the one on the Website. I dashed off a few words, asking whether he was available, and what I needed to do. That was four-thirty yesterday and I haven’t had a response yet. I was up at six this morning and have been frantically checking my emails virtually every ten minutes. It’s now eleven thirty and the strain is beginning to tell. I can’t write, can’t eat, and can’t think straight. If Friday night is going to be a flop, then I need advance warning so that I can cancel. I’m having problems thinking of an excuse that doesn’t sound lame. If I say I’m unwell, it probably means leaving it to the last minute and then I’ll be scrutinized and will have to hide for a week. If I say something like “I’m too busy” or even tell the truth, that I’m really just a novice myself, the locals will probably think I’m not taking them seriously. In my defense, I never said to Tom I was a writer, I just said I was writing a novel. The problem is that Tom seems to be basking in some sort of local glory for being in the know and, I hear, regularly having coffee with our famous local writer. This I found out when I was in the library the other day and overheard two women talking. Everything is getting out of hand and I don’t know what to do next. No. 4 flounces into the room with a loud meow, walks around the kitchen table twice, and then just as quickly disappears. Even he can sense the tense atmosphere that hovers like a rain cloud in the room. Suddenly I spot a flashing icon on my screen and I dash over to the table and sit down. It’s from Mark, well his representative, the person who books his personal appointments. From: Kate on behalf of Mark Ainsley-Thomas To: Ms K Dale Dear Katherine Unfortunately, Mark is touring this week, attending a number of book signings around the country. He is sorry that he is unlikely to be able to commit to a personal sitting for at least three months due to his unusually busy schedule. I am able to offer you an individual, full chart reading service, which Mark oversees personally, and I can arrange this upon receipt of the detailed information listed on the attachment. This service is available at a cost of £19.95. Thank you for contacting Mark and please do not hesitate to let me know if you would like the full chart reading service. Yours sincerely Kate Personal Assistant to Mark Ainsley-Thomas I suddenly feel like I have a lifeline. About the Author: Linn B Halton lives in the UK, in the small Gloucestershire village of Arlingham, on the banks of the River Severn with her adorable husband and cat with attitude – Mr Tiggs! She writes romantic fiction with a psychic or astrological theme and many of the paranormal events that feature in her books are real life experiences. Linn is also a featured new Author on http://loveahappyending.com/ and Editor of the feature ‘Author & Associate Catch-Ups’ including ‘Reader/Author Team Reports’ on the website’s magazine-style blog. SSP Author Page: http://www.sapphirestarpublishing.com/linnbhalton Linn’s Author Page: http://loveahappyending.com/linn-b-halton/ Twitter Account @LinnBHalton: http://bit.ly/ksXMDS Facebook Author Linn B Halton: http://on.fb.me/mnvJJs My Review: I found this book to be very interesting,the other described astronomy & astrology in a manner that makes it easy for the reader to learn fun facts without being aware of it. The book takes place in England,so the reader may not have knowledge of certain places & word use. The book went back & forth from the viewpoint of the three main character points of view. This is the first book that I've read that was written in this manner. I think it would be helpful for the reader to know this at the very beginning of story. The reader s able to get a Lear understanding of what each character is thinking throughout the story. If you're looking for a romantic story that has a strong story line, then look no farther.

Event Horizon

Event Horizon By Evelyn Shepherd GENRE: LGTB Paranormal BLURB: Valentine’s Day turns into a nightmare when an ancient vampire burns her way through the greater Columbus, ushering in the Aztec God of Death. Theo and Carlos will have to set aside their personal problems in order to put an end to a deranged killer. But as the body count rises, they find out
they’re going up against more than a vampire -– they’re going up against each other.

In the midst of the chaos, Theo faces his own personal turmoil. When Lloyd confronts Theo about his feelings, Theo isn’t sure whether his heart still belongs to Carlos or if he truly cares for Lloyd. If he wants to save the world, Theo will have to overcome his troubled heart and harness the power within. EXCERPT An Excerpt from Evelyn Shepherd's Event Horizon (A Theo Bourne Novel) I thought I was drowning. There was a brief moment—when my vision turned black and my mind went blank—when I was sure I was standing in front of the devil. How many people can honestly walk away from the devil after shaking his hand? No one. Because once you shake his hand, you never truly leave him. He has a piece of my soul. It was the price I paid to come back to life. Eventually he was going to collect the rest of his debt. I wasn’t drowning, though, and he wasn’t here for his final pound of flesh. I cut through the water, and reality cleared in the rise of air bubbles. I started on my first lap, focusing my attention on strengthening my knee and not on the thousands of thoughts swirling in my mind. I had screwed my knee up four months ago, and even though I had been out of rehabilitation for almost two months, I still had to work on getting it back to normal. My back was an intricate network of knots. After a long day, I just wanted to let it all drift away. The Olympic-size pool wasn’t an ocean that could carry me away on the current, though, so I kept on swimming, pushing myself as hard as I could. There were nights when I woke up screaming. I used to think the nightmares that stalked me were bad, but now the ones that followed me, even during waking hours, were far worse. I was just a step away from becoming a monster, and the nightmares reminded me of how close I was to falling over that edge. I hit the other side of the pool, flipped in the water, returned to the opposite end. I was able to work out the stiffness in my limbs after the first lap. I continued to do ten more, each one helping take away the heavy burden of the day. I broke the surface and grabbed on to the concrete ledge of the pool, holding on tight as I dragged in a slow breath of air. “Mi corazón, are you done?” Carlos’s voice drifted down to me. I could make out his scruffy black sneakers just a few feet away from my hands. I looked up at him, taking in the low-slung red basketball shorts, the tight black tank, and the inches of glistening caramel skin slicked by sweat. My cock twitched with life. My name is Theo Bourne, and I’m a detective for the Columbus Police Department’s Preternatural Task Force. It’s my job to control the arcane underbelly of the city. Originally I had been a member of the NYC division, but after losing my partner, I moved back to Columbus. That was when I met Carlos. He was supposed to have been a one-night stand four months ago. But that theory went out the window as soon as I found out he was my partner on the task force. Somehow, without me even knowing it, Carlos had broken through the iron walls around my heart as if they were made of mud. Now he was my lover, and it scared me how much I found myself needing him. “Yeah,” I said and hoisted myself up out of the pool. “What were you doing?” “Basketball with Scott and Hennessey,” he said and reached up to brush some damp burgundy bangs from my eyes. He dusted his fingers over the cross-shaped scar on my forehead. He always seemed partial to stroking it, his sadness radiating with the gingerly brush of his fingertips. When I was a teenager, my parents had our local priest perform an exorcism on me. They couldn’t handle the fact that their baby was a Phantom. Instead, they branded me as a demon and tried to save my soul. The cross on my forehead was the mark I carried for their mistake. I don’t know why the cross the priest held reacted to me. Maybe I am a demon—a monster. Carlos couldn’t seem to let it go like I had. He still held on to the delusion that he could save me from all my pain. Maybe he could, but then again, maybe he couldn’t. It didn’t really matter. I can’t change who I am, a vagabond who roams the world, a soldier without an army, the hero who lost his blade. I’m a Phantom, a will-o’-the-wisp. A Phantom is a rare human with the combined powers of psychokinesis and the ability to create doppelgängers. There aren’t many Phantoms out there; I’ve only met one—an asshole by the name of Rhett Bishop. There is a hierarchy of Phantoms that make up the Council, and if I really wanted, I probably could meet others. But the truth was I didn’t give a damn. “Hey,” Carlos said, breaking through my thoughts. The timbre of his voice, enriched by a Spanish accent, stroked me like fur against my naked flesh. I could always hear the coyote growl that hibernated deep in him. I constantly itched to unleash that beast. “Hmm?” “What are you thinking about so seriously?” he asked as he cupped both sides of my face. I’m not short, six foot to be exact, but Carlos dominated me by an extra four inches. “Nothing important,” I said and tangled my hand in his ponytail. His thick black mane generally fell down past his shoulders, but today he had pulled it back. I pulled out the band holding it up and grabbed a fistful of lush locks, tugging hard. “Sure didn’t look like nothing,” Carlos murmured as his brown eyes brightened to a golden topaz. I gave his hair another tug and ordered, “Shut up, mutt, and kiss me.” Carlos chuckled and closed the space between us. His hand found my left nipple, his long fingers hooking around the silver hoop. He pulled it hard, just how I liked it, and tugged me even closer. I could feel his power sleeping, held in place only by his sheer will. Carlos is the alpha leader to the local werecoyote pack. Sleeping with him was a dangerous game, but I was addicted to it like an adrenaline junkie. His mouth was hot, his tongue stealing the breath I had just gotten back. I could feel his cock bumping against mine, and every part of me wanted to rip his shorts down and drop to my knees to worship him. He let go of my nipple ring—I really should get a second one—and ran his hands over the hard contours of my body. He slid his hands along my broad shoulders, down the tight sinew of muscles cording my arms, and gripped my hips with such strength, I was sure there’d be finger marks left behind. Carlos pulled away and attacked my neck, sucking on my sweet spot on the left side. His teeth grazed my skin, and a shot of electricity jolted down my spine. I grabbed on to his shoulder with my free hand to anchor myself. My body hummed with the heat radiating from him. The tight pain in my right knee dulled against the feel of our hard bodies rubbing against one another. It didn’t even occur to me that someone could walk into the pool area at any moment—even if the pool area had been empty since I came to the rec center. Slowly he trailed his lips over my throat, working his way to my neck. All the tingling sensations abruptly died. The entire right side of my neck down to the collarbone was a mass of pearly scar tissue. During our first case, I’d had my throat ripped out by a werewolf. Luckily I hadn’t started turning furry the following full moon. But now the only thing I felt was the faintest sensation of pressure. The doctor said eventually I’d get feeling back, but so far, nothing. Carlos kept forgetting that fact. I shoved him off. “I can’t feel anything, you damn mutt.” He had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry…forgot.” It pissed me off more that I was denied the feel of him on that one part of my body. I didn’t want any sensation to be canceled. When it came to him, I wanted to feel it all, have it all. It was selfish, hell, maybe even weak, but he seemed to hold that kind of power over me. He nudged closer again and dotted kisses along my right cheek, whispering, “You’ll get the feeling back soon, corazón. Te prometo.” “Whatever,” I grumbled, not sure if I believed that or not. I didn’t fight him when he leaned in for a chaste kiss. As he pulled back, I looked up at the clock above the door to the pool. It was a quarter till seven. “Shit, I’ve got to go. I have to get ready to meet Lloyd.” The air in the room instantly thickened. Carlos’s aura spilled out like a breaking dam and nearly choked me. His hand seized my bicep tightly and held me in place. “Just come back to the house with me, mi corazón. We can take a hot shower, open a bottle of wine…” I pulled my arm from his grip. “I told you already I had plans with Lloyd.” His jaw tightened, and a glare creased his brows, darkening his gaze. His eyes flashed a brighter topaz, the coyote in him clawing its way up to the surface. Carlos and Lloyd were like two dogs fighting over a scrap of meat, and I was the meat. “Damn it, stop,” I warned. I didn’t break eye contact as he glared at me. Anger and frustration warred behind his eyes, and his power grew thicker, became a pair of hands that grabbed my throat and throttled me. I gave him a firm mental shove, sending him stumbling back a few feet, and snapped, “Carlos!” He let out a growl and ran his hands up his face, slid them through his hair. “Fuck, okay! Fine!” The air in the room instantly became lighter, his aura whooshing out like someone had opened a window. I continued to glare in his direction, gauging his mood. He dropped his hands at his side and asked, a pout coming to his full lips, “What time will you be home?” I shook my head in resignation and said with a small smile, “Once the concert is over, you dolt. I won’t be late.” My apartment had been trashed during a case, to the point that it had to be completely renovated. While it was being worked on, I was staying with Carlos. I didn’t mind living with him temporarily, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a permanent stay. Chocolate spiraled through his eyes, the golden hue spinning down a drain like it had never been. He nodded and leaned in for one more kiss. His hand snaked out around my waist and pulled me close so our bodies molded together. I could smell the sweat on his skin, and it sent tingles down my spine. “Carlos,” I mumbled without pulling away. I wasn’t doing a good job of leaving. “Mmm?” He nipped at my lower lip and then dragged his tongue down my jaw, lapping up a bead of water. My entire body zinged to life. My brain rerouted its thought process, turning its focus on the man in front of me. His hand dipped lower down my waist, inching past the band of my swim trunks so he could sneak a finger down my crack. I arched up and let out a throaty moan, giving him a chance to attack my throat with his skilled tongue. Lloyd. Concert. Got to get to… Oh God that feels good. I felt Carlos’s finger hedge closer to my entrance, and I wanted nothing more than to rut backward into his hand. The door to the pool opened a crack, and someone shouted from the other side, “What did you say?” Carlos and I ripped apart just as the person walked into the pool area. I struggled to switch off the sudden animalistic desire to mount Carlos and said somewhat shakily, “Right…so I’m going.” “Have fun.” “I’ll see you tonight,” I said, more than eager to go home and sink into bed with him. Instead I snatched my towel up and headed to the locker room to get ready to go out for the evening, towel drying my hair along the way. LINKS: Website: 
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/eveeshepherd
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Drowning Mermaids Nadia Screvia

This book moves at a fast pace, allowing the reader to get easily invested in the story. The opening scene takes place at an Alaskan strip club; the crew of the Fishin’ Magician is there to mourn and celebrate the life of the crew mate that had drowned the night before. Capt. Trevain notices a beautiful dancer, who performs a routine that would’ve been more fitting for a ballet instead of a strip club. Capt. Trevain and the dancer are instantly drawn to one another, though he tries to deny it because he feels their age difference is too great. Then his brother Callder, calls him over and introduces him to Aazuria. He became compelled to purchase a private dance, but uses the time to get to know Aazuria better. When he discovers that her father has recently died and she is trying to take care of her sisters, he invites them to move into his house. Ultimately, Trevain and Aazuria begin a relationship, but she is called away to take care of family business. Aazuria leaves one of her sisters with the captain, because his brother has just drowned and she can’t stand to leave alone when he’s in such pain. Capt. Trevain works up the courage to discuss his plan to propose to Aazuria with her sister, Elandria. Elandria decides to test the strength of the captain’s love, by divulging that Aazuria actually killed their father. The captain remains steadfast in his devotion to Aazuria, and Elandria gives him her blessing. In order to remain together Aazuria and Trevain will have to face many obstacles, from the discovery that Trevain’s mom is a mermaid to the impending war that Atargatis has planned to avenge the daughter that was stolen from her. You’ll want to purchase this book to find out of Callder has indeed perished, or is his mermaid mother able to find her son and save him. Will Queen Aazuria and Capt. Trevain find a way to get over the things in their pasts, and if so, whose world will they choose to live in? And, will Atargatis’ need for revenge be appeased once she discovers that the former king is dead, and the daughter that she’s been trying to avenge is alive?