Wednesday, May 31, 2017

One Night in Minneapolis NBtM

Marine Major Skylar Landis doesn’t resemble the demure Catholic high school girl Vince Andersen once knew. They’d dated briefly until she patched things up with his nemesis, Ethan Standfeld. After school, she joined the Marines and they’d lost touch.

Their ten year class reunion in Minneapolis brings Skylar face-to-face with Vince, awakening her memories of the past. She asks him to plan a hot, no-strings-attached hook-up to sustain her sexual fantasies while her intelligence unit is deployed to the Middle East. As their adventure unfolds, and he gives her exactly what she needs, Skylar wonders whether she can forget the man who put her desires first and asked for nothing in return.

After checking his cuffs and straightening his jacket, he opened the dressing
room door and stepped into the narrow hallway as though nothing had happened.

A clerk eyed him suspiciously as he passed.

Vince tried swallowing the grin threatening to give him away and failed.

That was a first.

He wanted this weekend to be romantic, passionate, and memorable as hell. That goal challenged him to act more boldly than he ever had. He hoped she’d enjoyed their first risqué encounter. Plan B didn’t have nearly as many kisses and climaxes.

Vince took a casual post near the exit to wait. He spotted her a minute later at the cash register. He checked his watch. Ten thirty. They had plenty of time to get to the picnic. He smiled as she approached.

She handed him a small bag. “You owe me seventy-five bucks.”

“I do?” He looked inside and saw a tie that matched his suit perfectly. “Hush money?”

“Something like that. I guess it’s one way to make a sale.” She giggled.

Margie, thanks so much for stopping by. So, how did you get started writing?
Thanks for hosting me today to celebrate One Night in Minneapolis! I started writing in fifth grade and a poem I wrote was published that year by McCall's Magazine. I've been a professional writer my entire career in marketing communications. I've been writing fiction since 2009.

What was the inspiration for your book?
The City Nights series was a submissions call from the publisher – Tirgearr. I'm already one of their authors so I saw the call a couple of years ago. The characters meet in one city anywhere in the world and spend 24 hours together. The basic premise is set. I chose my adopted hometown – Minneapolis – for the location and the rest is a typical work day for an author!

What’s the one genre you haven’t written in yet that you’d like to?
Before I answer, I'd like to rephrase the question – what is the one genre you haven't written in yet that you'd like to, but have no talent for? That would be historical romance. I'm way too lazy to do all that research but I wish I weren't. My love for romance started by reading high seas pirate romances but I can't ever see myself writing one.

Are there any genres you won’t read or write in? Why?
I'm not a fan of sweet romance. Those are the romances that make you fill in the blanks yourself when it comes to the love scenes. Those frustrate me. LOL I'm also not a great fan of books with characters that morph into unhuman things like Sasquatch or snakes or some other creature. Although I just saw the new release of Beauty and the Beast yesterday and loved it, Belle and the Beast did not have hot sex. I've written a pair of vampire books, but those characters didn't transform into other creatures and become involved with humans. They were wicked from the start and to each other. That part I really loved!

What are you up to right now? Do you have any releases planned, or are you still writing?
Yes, I'm writing! I'm burning brain cells on a collection of short stories – personal vignettes if you will. This is not a romance but it is historical and therefore giving me HIGH ANXIETY.

Alright, now for some random, fun questions. Favorite color?  Green – beautiful forest green!

Favorite movie?
The American President

Book that inspired you to become an author?
Shanna, by Kathleen Woodwiess

You have one superpower. What is it?
To become taller at will. I'm so tired of asking tall people to get things off the shelf for me. I'd love to know what the world looks like at six feet high or maybe even more!

You can have dinner with any 3 people, dead, alive, fictitious, etc. Who are they? 
Hillary Clinton, Tiger Woods and Pope John Paul II. I know!!! Crazy, eh?

Last question: Which of your characters are you most like and how/why? 
Jolene from Deep Enough to Bleed. She's a fighter whose been through hell and back. Tough on the outside, she keeps most of the world at arm's length because she's afraid people will judge her about the reality of her life. She keeps big secrets and only lets an unbelievably small number of people inside that inner sanctum. Why am I like her? My childhood is something I rarely want to think about. In fact, I've worked so hard to forget most of it, I cannot recall very much of my life until I got out of high school. That phrase - what doesn't kill you makes you stronger - isn't exactly true. Just like, sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me…all of it leaves a scar. Be kind. This is a tough world!

That’s all from me, thanks so much for taking the time to stop by!
Leave a question or comment and you'll be eligible to win a $15 Amazon gift card! I'm curious about you, too, and I'll be back later.

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Author Bio and Links:
Margie Church writes erotic romance novels with a strong suspense element, in keeping with her moniker: Romance with SASS (Suspense Angst Seductive Sizzle). Never expect the same thing twice in one of her books. She tackles subjects and conflicts that aren't typical in romances. Life is complicated. People are, too. Marrying those concepts makes her work fascinating to read. Margie was 2011 GLBT Author of the Year, and her book, Hard as Teak, was named 2011 GLBT Book of the Year at Loves Romances Café. She is well-known for her BDSM erotic romances as well.

Margie lives in Minnesota, is married, and has two children. Some of her passions are music, poetry, walking on moonlit nights, fishing, and making people laugh.

Keep up with Margie:
Blog     |     Twitter     |     Facebook     |     Author Facebook
Pinterest     |     Amazon Author page     |     Tirgearr Publishing

Buy links:
Amazon     |     Margie's Decadent Publishing page     |     Loose Id

Deception VBT

Lieutenant Jack Morro has just days to go before being sent home from the war in Vietnam. But after inadvertently learning of evidence of a conspiracy involving his captain, he is hit by the captain’s ‘friendly fire’ in the midst of battle. He is left for dead but is only wounded, captured by the Viet Cong, and imprisoned. When Jack is reported killed in action, his fiancé, Diane – a rising New York journalist – plunges into alcoholism. A media giant named Vidal helps her recover, and Diane falls in love with him. But Vidal has secrets – including a connection to Jack’s supposed ‘death.’

However, Jack is alive, and after a year of imprisonment, he manages to escape. But he comes home to find Diane married to Vidal and his life still in peril from the information he learned in Vietnam.

Vidal, Jack, and Diane find themselves wrapped in a web of romance, deceit, and danger – and none of them will escape unscathed.

Manhattan, November 1971

Standing in the men’s department at Macy’s, Diane Gannon smiled as she enthusiastically fingered her way through layers of folded sweaters to find one for her fiancé, Jack, who’d soon be coming home from the war in Vietnam. Alongside her was future mother-in-law, Grace Morro, also smiling as she held a shopping bag in both hands. Out in the center aisle, heel-clicking women shoppers marched along on their way to Ladies’, some of them peeling off near Diane and Grace into other rows and racks of men’s clothes. Brightening the scene, broad paths of sunlight flowed through the large windows on Seventh Avenue, revealing rows of appealing merchandise as saleswomen stood behind glass counters, chatting with customers or placing clothes in gift boxes.

Diane stood in low heels, wearing a brown suede jacket over a white sweater and black slacks, her dark, reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail, her sculptured face of fair skin and striking eyes heightened by a cleft in her chin. Holding up a light blue sweater by its shoulders, she looked over at Grace and said, “What do you think, Mom? Wouldn’t this look great on Jack?”

Wearing a gray overcoat open down the middle, Grace nodded. “Yes, it would. It really would, but I can’t stop feeling nervous about him. Him still over there. Won’t stop ’til he’s home. Two years of worrying. Sorry, hon.”

Diane lowered the sweater and arched her eyebrows at Grace. “Thirty-five more days and all our worries will be gone! He’ll be home just before Christmas!”

Grace nodded. “Meantime, he’s still over there, in the fighting.”

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Author Bio and Links:
The author and his wife, Joan, live in Hunterdon County, NJ. As a public relations professional he and his firm successfully handled major public issue campaigns, including raising $68 million to build Liberty Science Center, now the nation’s fourth largest hands-on science museum. He is also president of a family-owned water utility. Deception is his third novel. His website is, and he welcomes speaking invitations and correspondence via

The book will be free during the tour.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

The Lure of Port Stephen Blog Tour

Robbie Wales is young and starting a new job in a new town, on his own. Coming from a split family, he was raised by his mother and maternal grandparents and came out as a teen without a lot of fuss, but his father, whom he only saw infrequently, has never known. As an adult, he's found he's got a lot in common with his father, and they're finally getting to know each other. He fears coming out to his father may jeopardize that.

Then he meets Raj Williams, the attractive man in the trailer next to his father's in a seasonal RV park. Raj is handsome, sophisticated, yet loves to fish and watch silly Disney movies.

Raj finds Robbie equally interesting. But Robbie's still in the closet, at least in Port Stephen, and Raj's ex used that as an excuse to treat him as nothing more than a friend with benefits. He's not interested in a repeat experience.

Robbie finally finds the courage to come out to his father, but was it all just for a summer fling?

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Sydney Blackburn © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Robbie Wales rented a car Saturday morning to go down to his father’s trailer in Port Stephen. Alone—because he’d just moved to St. Albans and hadn’t had the opportunity to meet someone. Like Dad and Wanda had been nagging him about.

It would help if he could actually tell them the someone he hoped to meet was a guy. His mother knew, of course. But his parents had split when he was a baby, and he hadn’t spent more than a couple weeks a year with his father until he’d moved to Woodstock for his apprenticeship training. He’d never had a boyfriend serious enough to mention. Coming out seemed too important not to do in person, but the right time never seemed to come up.

He had to come out to them soon—he was twenty-two, and the more time he spent with them, the more obvious it would be—but he was worried. What if his father rejected him just when they were finally having a real relationship? But—new job, new apartment, new city—it was time.

St. Albans was only a twenty-minute drive away from the port. He could, in theory, hang out and fish during the day and go back to town at night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like sitting around their firepit, but listening to a bunch of people his parents’ age or older wasn’t his idea of a fun time. They wouldn’t miss him.

He pulled in beside the end of his parents’ trailer, leaving room for other vehicles in case the people in the small Prowler next door had friends coming up for the weekend too. Robbie grabbed his duffel and used the keys his father had given him last year to let himself in. The water and electric were already on, and the fridge was humming softly.

He dropped the duffel and went out to retrieve the case of beer he’d brought. Hard liquor would take up less fridge space, he mused. Too bad it made him stupid. He gave the neighbouring trailer a sidelong glance. Small propane grill, decorative urns spilling jewel-tone flowers, sun shelter, and a couple of fishing rods. Retired couple, he decided. Flowers had to be a woman’s touch.

Movement on one of the boats caught his eye, and he turned just in time to see a man—literally tall, dark, and handsome—strip his T-shirt off. There was nothing erotic in the motion—guy probably didn’t even know he was being watched—but Robbie’s mouth watered all the same at the unexpected vision.

He was lean, deeply tanned, and wearing shorts that were short enough to make Robbie wish they were even shorter. Nice legs. Nice everything.

As if sensing Robbie’s stare, the guy turned his head. Robbie blushed, glad he was too far away for it to be seen, and hurried to bring in the beer. That was a sight he’d never seen here before. Was he the son of the couple in the trailer?

One way to find out. Randomly chatting to strangers was a thing here, giving Robbie an excuse. He stuck six beers in the fridge and took two of his father’s, already cold, and hastily checked his look in the mirror. His sandy-brown hair was tousled from the drive, but there were no stains on his tank or rainbow-coloured board shorts. Good. Normal. He pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and almost forgot the beer on his way out the door.

Walking along the waterfront, he tried to appear nonchalant, though he’d never been 100 percent certain of what that meant. As he strode out onto the dock, the guy raised his head. He looked even better up close. His hair was thick, dark, begging to be ruffled… Try not to drool, Rob. He didn’t have the words to describe the guy’s mouth—full lips he’d love to kiss, a pinkish-brown colour a little lighter than his nipples. Dark hair scattered across a gorgeous dark tan. Robbie licked his lips before he realized what he was doing.

Then Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s kissable lips pulled up into a smile, and long fingers with very pale fingernails shoved the sunglasses up over his hair. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Robbie handed him a beer. “You looked thirsty. Boat trouble?” he added quickly, squatting down to eye level. Tall, Dark, and Handsome had eyelashes like a woman’s—long, feathery, soft. And his eyes were amber, a little darker than the beer he’d accepted from Robbie.

“Thanks.” He pushed a hand behind his ear, and Robbie’s tongue slipped out to swipe his lower lip again.

The handsome stranger twisted the cap off the beer and tipped the bottle to his mouth, his long throat working as he swallowed once, twice.

Robbie let his gaze slide down the deeply tanned bare chest in front of him. Gay men, in his admittedly limited experience, tended to wax their chests. Trying to match the guys on billboards and magazines, he supposed. Handsome here had a sparse triangle of dark hair from below his collarbone across pecs with more definition than he’d initially thought. Gravity pulled a trickle of sweat down the narrow bit of hair in the center of his torso, one that disappeared… Robbie forced himself to not stare as if the guy was the first steak dinner he’d seen after months of bread and water.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome was glaring at the cables he’d uncovered that led to his motor. “It pulls to the left.”

pulled his shades down, hiding his eyes. “You know much about boats? You’d think I’d learn, owning one, but goddammit, I had it in for a thorough check in St. Albans before I put it in the water.”

“I know a little more about outboards than inboards,” Robbie said truthfully, “but I’d be happy to take a look.”

TDH waved vaguely toward the open panel. “Sure. Please.”

Robbie’s heart tripped a little at getting so close to his new fantasy man, and he nearly lost his balance getting into the boat—to his embarrassment. TDH’s steadying hand was hot and dry, and Robbie nearly jumped as his cock twitched.

“Fuck,” he said, before he could stop himself. His voice was hoarse, but he hoped TDH would think he was cursing his clumsiness and not his riotous imagination.

The smile on his face seemed sly and suggestive to Robbie, but he figured that was wishful thinking on his part. He smiled back and took a swig of his beer. Down, boy, he told his overeager cock. He set his bottle in a holder and turned around, kneeling to examine the innards exposed.

“Huh. Interesting,” he said, having no idea what he was looking for.

“Isn’t it, though.”

His voice was like a caress. You’re imagining things, Robert Eliot Wales. He leaned back to sit on his ass and reached up for his beer. He froze momentarily as TDH sat on one of the pedestal seats. He could almost—but not quite—see up the leg of his shorts. Stop looking.

He forced himself to raise his gaze all the way to the other man’s face. “Tell me exactly what it’s doing?”

“When I put it under full throttle, it pulls to the left. I don’t notice it on the creek, but out on the lake this morning, it pulled so hard it almost yanked the wheel out of my hands.” He ran a hand through his hair again.

Robbie knew he was staring, but he hoped it wasn’t too obvious behind his shades.

“First time I’ve been scared on the water.”

“Sounds like your trim is out of whack. Maybe you bumped something in the creek?”

“Maybe,” he said. “It seems rather shallow this year. So I have to take it out of the water?”

“Yeah, I think so. When my dad gets here, he’ll take a look. He knows a lot more…” Geez, he sounded like a teenager. “Robbie Wales,” he said, thrusting out a hand, more dirty now than it had been twenty minutes ago.

“Raj Williams,” he said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

Raj. That explained the great tan. Even if he still had tan lines, his bare ass was probably a gorgeous honey gold…. He shook his head. “That’s my dad’s trailer.” Robbie jerked his head. “The Golden Falcon there.”

TDH—Raj—laughed. “Tell me that’s not your dad’s name.”


“Wayne and Wanda Wales of Woodstock.” He snickered. “Say it ain’t so.”

Robbie chuckled at the awful alliteration. “It ain’t so,” he reassured him. “Wales is my mother’s name. Dad’s is Richardson. And Wanda kept her own name, Nichols. I take it you’ve met.”

“Neighbours. Your dad is very…sociable.”

“They say in Woodstock, if you don’t know Wayne Richardson, it’s not Wayne Richardson’s fault.”

“I can believe that.”

Neighbours. So… “Which trailer’s yours?”

“This one,” he said with a pleased nod toward the Prowler. “My company started a work-from-home initiative, and I talked them into paying for my Internet to work from here, instead.”

Ah. Straight and married then. Robbie nodded, trying not to show his disappointment. “Where is home when it’s not Port Stephen?”


Robbie felt his eyes widen. “My god, you must feel like you’re in redneck country.”

Raj laughed again, a warm, rich sound that Robbie liked very much. “Kind of,” he said. “Let’s go sit in the shade. My deck’s a little iffy; carpentry isn’t my forte. Along with boat mechanics,” he added ruefully. “I can refresh your beer.”

Eh, he could still fantasize, as long as he didn’t have to watch TDH kissing his no-doubt-pretty wife. “Sure. Thanks.”

The deck, which looked like freight pallets bound together, had an outdoor rug on it and two director-style chairs. Solar LED lights were strung across the canopy. The flowers in each corner were bright primary colours, so intense they almost seemed fake. Nestled against the trailer was an electric cooler. Robbie watched those shorts get a little shorter and tighter as Raj leaned over to grab two cold bottles. To his horror, a whimper came out of his throat before he could stop it.

He cleared his throat and spun to examine one of the flowerpots. “Nice flowers.”

“Thanks. My apartment is tiny without much in the way of a balcony. But I’ve always admired those perfectly landscaped little houses on the magazine covers. Clearly, I’m not a landscaper or a designer either, but it makes me happy—those ridiculously bright flowers.”

“Oh. So you’re not married?”

Raj smiled at him, an expression that seemed full of hidden meaning. “Haven’t met the right person yet. And you? Will you be bringing someone special down to share romantic evenings on the beach?”

Robbie blushed. “No.” He’d never put Port Stephen and romantic together in his head. “So, why here?”

“The fishing. And I can have this place for five months for the same price a month’s rent would cost me in Toronto.”

Robbie opened his mouth to ask another question but frowned. “You’re not paying rent in Toronto? Are you moving here, like, permanently?”

“Hell, no. Can you imagine going all the way to Bayham just for groceries every week in the winter? Do they even have a bar that doesn’t serve a Sunday brunch?” Raj laughed.

Robbie hadn’t realized before now sound could be a thing one wanted to roll in—or lick up.

“Don’t think so,” he managed to say.

“I sublet my apartment for the season, so until October first, it’s not actually mine. I still have a place to live at the end of the season but don’t have to pay the rent. I love it here”—he gestured toward his boat, or perhaps just the water in general—“but it would be nice to meet some people under forty and over twenty.”

Robbie opened his mouth to invite Raj along with him to St. Albans some night. “You met me.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but for some reason the idea of Raj meeting someone other than him made his stomach twist.

Raj smiled. “True…”

Purchase Links
NineStar Press    |    Amazon    |    Barnes & Noble    |    Kobo    |    Smashwords

 Raj and Robbie’s Facebook Pages

The nice thing about writing contemporary romances is the ability to fake up some nice social media posts for them. If Raj had a Facebook page, it might look like this... 

...yes, that is the long awaited photo of the Sandcastle restaurant! 

Now that we've seen Raj's FB, what about Robbie's?  Robbie's Facebook page is a little more fishing oriented.

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Tour Schedule
5/25 - Sharing Links and Wisdom

About the Author:
Sydney Blackburn is a binary star system. Always a voracious reader, she began to write when she couldn’t find the stories she wanted to read. She likes candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach… Oh wait, wrong profile. She’s a snarky introvert and admits to having a past full of casual sex and dubious hookups, which she uses for her stories.

She likes word play and puns and science-y things. And green curry.

Her dislikes include talking on the phone, people trying to talk to her before she’s had coffee, and filling out the “about me” fields in social media.

Besides writing, she also designs book covers for poor people.

Website     |     Facebook     |     Twitter

Monday, May 22, 2017

Evergreen VBT

Thirty-year-old musician Leilani Mahuiki is in Tennessee to find Joe Barstow, the birth father whose bone marrow might save her daughter’s life. She finds Bradley, too, Joe’s adopted son. Against all odds, she and Bradley make wonderful music together, she on the ukulele, he on the banjo. And Bradley is everything else she’s ever wanted in a man.

Bradley wants her, too. But is that enough? He needs a family of his own. Having grown up an outsider, he’s always dreamt of something simple and old-fashioned. No entanglements. No complications. Just mom, dad, and the kids. Not something Leilani can ever offer. She already has the very complications and entanglements that he so desperately wants to avoid, and that are not going away any time soon. And yet, as he and Leilani pull out all the stops to save her daughter’s life, he knows Leilani is the only woman for him. The most beautiful music in the world can sometimes happen when disharmony resolves—and a lonely Tennessee winter can become a tropical paradise.

“I see.” Bradley thought a minute. “It’s a good deal for them and a good deal for Nalani. But is it really all that good a deal for you? What’s this done to your life, Leilani?”

“My child has three parents raising her and I have an incredible support system in George and Kekoa. And they have an incredible support system in me.”

“But what about the possibility of your ever finding love again? What has this cockamamie arrangement done to that?”

Leilani felt herself bristle. “It’s not cockamamie. It’s working well, thank you very much.”

“If it’s working out so damned well, why are you still single? Is it because your boyfriends are put off by the total and complete weirdness of whole thing?”

Leilani looked at Bradley with disdain. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve given a damn what my boyfriend thought of my totally, completely weird life. This is the first time since Bruce died that I’ve really cared about a man.”

“I didn’t realize.”

“You did, too. I told you a while back that I haven’t been serious about anyone since Bruce died. Congratulations. You’re the first one in ten years. The first damn man I’ve cared about since I put Bruce in the ground. You want to know why I didn’t tell you about Kekoa and George? Because even though I tried to warn you that I couldn’t give you the fifties sitcom family of your dreams, I thought way down deep that maybe you could get past that unrealistic dream a little and look at my admittedly unconventional family and visualize yourself a part of it. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you might come to love me enough to loosen the tight parameters you’ve set up in your mind and think outside that box. But that was damned stupid of me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was,” Bradley said with a snap. “You’ve known from the beginning how I feel and what I want in a family. Unrealistic or no, that’s what I’m looking for. As much as I care about you, I’ll never be able to have that with you. You will always have other loyalties, other allegiances. It will never be just me and mine. I understand that now. I just wish you’d told me earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen for you the way I did. Maybe I wouldn’t hurt so much tonight.”

“Or maybe you wouldn’t hurt so much if your mind was a little broader,” Leilani snapped.

Setting my Books in a Place I Love
Okay, so this is not exactly a new concept.  Every writer from James Michener to Nora Roberts has used his or her favorite place to tell their stories.  An author is more likely to weave a compelling tale if she already feels a deep emotional connection to the surroundings where she places her characters, and in the hands of a skilled author these settings become more than a backdrop-they actually become part of the story, adding richness and authenticity that all the armchair research in the world cannot duplicate.  So when it came time to leave my beloved Texas Hill Country and move on, I turn to another place I love-the mountains of Appalachia, featured in the Smoky Blue series.

I made my first trip to Eastern Tennessee in 2009 when my son and his family moved there, and it didn’t take me long to fall in love with everything about the Appalachians.  The smoke-enshrouded mountains themselves are majestic-green, covered with tall trees and dotted with farmhouses and barns with quilt patterns painted on the side.  The towns are clean and quaint, with houses built into the sides of hills and downtowns reminiscent of days gone by.  But it wasn’t just the mountains themselves that enchanted me so.  It was the people of the region.  Warm, friendly-I don’t think any of them ever met a stranger, and everybody called me ‘honey’ and asked how my day was going.  I fell in love with the region, and nothing I’ve learned on my many return trips to Appalachia has made me change my mind. 

I also fell in love with the music of the region.  I bought my first mountain dulcimer in Pigeon Forge in 2012.  The vendor gave me a brief demonstration and with my musical background it wasn’t hard to learn.  The mountain dulcimer has the distinction of being the only instrument developed in the continental United States, made in Appalachia by the mountain people and used to play the lilting Celtic tunes and ballads they brought with them from England and Scotland and that are still played by the mountain people today.  I fell in love with the old-time mountain music and the bluegrass music that grew from it, so when I was creating characters in these new stories, they became mountain musicians.  My heroines play the various instruments used in mountain music-the dulcimer, the fiddle, the banjo-as do my heroes.  Bristol, Tennessee-Virginia bills itself as the ‘Birthplace of Country Music’ and the region is a hotbed of bluegrass and mountain music, with venues all along the Blue Ridge Parkway of Virginia and North Carolina.  It was logical and natural that Bristol became the home of Acoustics, the fictional bluegrass nightclub around which the stories take place.

So where did Leilani Mahuiki, a Hawaiian ukulele player come from?  From Hawaii, of course!  I made my first trip to Hawaii in 2013, and yes, fell in love with Hawaii and its signature instrument.  I bought my first ukulele on that trip and learned to play it.  To my surprise, some component of the ukulele was featured at every dulcimer festival we attended, and I began playing ukulele as a backup with a dulcimer band.  This encouraged me to introduce a Hawaiian ukulele player to my fictional band of musicians-if the ukulele sounded great with mountain music for real, it would sound great in my story.  It was fun watching my characters Leilani and Bradley blend the two sounds and two cultures as they fell in love.

So where to next?  Nowhere for the time being!  The next book in the series, ‘Indigo’, is in editing and I have four more Smoky Blue books plotted ready to go.  But at some point, it will be time to move on.  Where, I’m not sure.  Hawaii?  New Orleans?  Back to Texas?  I don’t know just yet.  But wherever my stories go next, you can bet it will be to another place in this world that I love.

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Don’t forget to visit the other stops on the tour.

Author Bio and Links:
Author of thirty romance novels, Emily Mims combined her writing career with a career in public education until leaving the classroom to write full time.  The mother of two sons and grandmother of six, she and her husband Charles live in central Texas but frequently visit grandchildren in eastern Tennessee and Georgia.  She plays the piano, organ, dulcimer, and ukulele and belongs to two performing bands.  She says, “I love to write romances because I believe in them.  Romance happened to me and it can happen to any woman-if she’ll just let it.” 

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