Showing posts with label Orca Rapid Reads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Orca Rapid Reads. Show all posts

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

"Before you go on your next blind date, read this" - WORST DATE EVER!




 
 SHORT EXCERPT from Date #3:


Scott stared across the table at me.  His eyes were concentrating fiercely. He must have approved, because then he smiled for the first time.  A thin, satisfied smile.  No teeth showing.
“Let’s get right to it then, shall we?” he said.  I watched as he pulled a sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket.  He carefully unfolded it.  Then he took out a pen.
He read from the sheet in front of him.  “The company may decide to move me to New York.  Would you be willing to move to another city with me?”  His eyes lifted to meet mine.
I gulped.  “Is that a check-list?”
“Yes.” He said apologetically.  “I know.  How embarrassing to use paper.  But Mom doesn’t trust computers.”
Mom?  His mom wrote a checklist?

Great for anyone who enjoys zipping through a lighthearted read in a single, short sitting." BOOKLIST

  
NOW AVAILABLE!  Chapters/Indigo, Barnes and Noble, Walmart, independent bookstores, Amazon, Kobo, iTunes, and all the usual suspects.


One of the dates in this book really happened to the author.  Can you guess which one?
To find out, (and for buy links) click the Worst Date Ever menu tab above.



Wednesday, 12 April 2017

If The Goddaughter moved to other Genres (a seriously non-serious post)



Last year at about this time, my publisher gave me a challenge. 
“We want to try some women’s fiction for the Rapid Reads line,” she said.  “So I need a book from you by June.”

Huh?  Me, the scribe of mob comedy, write Chicklit?  Romance?  Okay, can I make it funny, I asked?  Luckily they went thumbs up.  And so Worst Date Ever comes out in September this year.

More on that later.  This column is about something else.

Point being, all this writing-out-of-genre caused me to think about what would happen if Gina Gallo, the original mob goddaughter, were to be dragged kicking and screaming out of crime, and plunked right down into another genre.  Or three.  So here goes.

Western:
(on a stage coach near you)

Gina:  “Please move over.  You’re taking up two seats.”

Bad guy Cowboy: “Hey little lady.  You can sit right here on my lap.  What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with that mighty big revolver, anyway?”

Gina (demonstrating):  <BLAM>

Cowboy drops to the floor.

Gothic Romance:
(in a seriously spooky old manor)

Fiendish male character, rubbing hands together:  “You’ll never escape me, my pretty.  Never!”

Gina (looking around): “Are you sure this isn’t a set for The Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

Fiend:  “Enough!  You’ll be my wife with or without the church.”

Gina (sighing): <BLAM>

Fiend drops to the floor.

Literary:
(at a slam poetry evening)

Male Poet:  “Stop.Cry.Laugh.Love not war.Peace not profit.Climate change.Capitalists.Love crimes.War crimes.Killing oceans.Killing whales.Every other clichĂ© you can think of.Pain.I’m in pain.A pain so great.

Gina <BLAM>

Poet is out of pain, and so is everyone else.

To be continued…