Tuesday, May 28, 2019

I'm blogging today at BWL Author Blog

Here's the link!

I'm blogging about Characters and Cooking.  I've included a cheesy potato casserole recipe too.

Monday, May 27, 2019

I can't wait, It's Almost National Paperclip Day!

National Paperclip Day is observed each year on May 29.  Yes, even the paperclip has its own day of honor. It is about that well-known piece of curved wire that keeps our papers together and helps keep us organized.

The Gem paperclip, which was most likely in production in Britain in the early 1870s by The Gem Manufacturing Company, was never patented.  It is the most common type of wire paper clip and is still in use today.  It was introduced to the United States around 1892 and in 1904, Cushman & Denison registered a trademark for the “Gem” name in connection with paper clips.  Paperclips are still sometimes called “Gem clips.”

Today, paperclips come in various sizes, shapes and colors and can make your paperwork look more fun and lively.

As you know, multi-colored paper clips, mini-clamps, and pens in bright-gel colors are my current favorite item(s)--along with calendars.  Yes, my love affair with calendars continue.

Remember:  There is still time to log on to RomanceGems Blog for our May Contest!

June will begin a new contest with more prizes!

Happy Reading,

Connie Vines

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Novels with a Purpose by Connie Vines

Thank you Rhobin for a timely topic for this month.

What would I like to tell my readers about my novels and their purpose?  

My stories, novels, novellas, and short stories reflect life.  My theme usually revolves around a social issue or a past the hero/heroine must overcome.

My first romance, Lynx (HOLT Medallion, Orange Rose, Award of Excellence, and Golden Chance) dealt with emotional abandonment and physical neglect.  Rachel Scott, my heroine, traveled the rodeo circuit with her parents during her childhood.  Her father, a famous bronc rider, was also an alcoholic; her mother was self-absorbed and ignored her daughter.

Everyone has challenges is life.  However, emotional abandonment is (in my opinion) is more damaging, long-term, than physical neglect.

As a teenager Rachel was left in her paternal grandmother’s care.  Living in a small rural town, Rachel had a sense of belonging.  However, after her grandmother’s death, Rachel was left, once again, on her own.  She had friends, a job, and for the first time in her life, she was happy.

Enter, the last man-on-earth, she’d ever wish to fall in love with: Lynx Maddox, champion bull-rider, self-assured, and handsome.

Rachel found comfort n the small-town clannishness of Running Springs.  It was why she’d stayed on instead of moving to Missoula, were she’d gone to college.  It seemed the most reasonable thing to do, even after her grandmother’s death the year before.  After all, the town and her small circle of friends provided the only emotional ties she’d ever known during her lifetime.  Rachel couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave.

Charlene patted Rachel’s hand then turned and tossed her purse on a vacant section of the splintery white bench.  She tugged on Rachel’s sleeve then pointed to the arena.  “Look, honey, there’s Lynx!”

The rodeo was well underway by then and Rachel scanned the circle of cowboys by the catch pens.  She spied Lynx, off to one side away from the others. Her heart thumped against her ribs. She might as well admit it; she wanted to see Lynx again. She like looking at him.  Watching him. But from a distance where it was safe.

He moved with confidence, a sureness just this side of arrogance.  His walk was a cowboy’s deliberate, rolling gait as he headed toward the chute. In spite of her best intentions, Rachel couldn’t tear her gaze off of him.

Lynx felt a kick of surprise as he watched Rachel climb the bleachers.  She stood perfectly sill for a moment, scanning the area. He studied her, letting his gaze scrutinize her in considerable detail. Her black hair gleamed in a single braid, dangling over her shirt and the swell of her breasts. Her tight blue jeans outlined the sweet sway of her hips.

The noise of the arena faded.

Lynx swallowed past the dryness in his throat. . .

I believe for a hero and heroine to fall and love and develop a lasting relationship, they must work together to overcome challenges together.  They must also help each other become stronger and over-come past fears and insecurities.

This is how I achieve a Happy Every After ending in my stories.

Be sure and see what the other authors participating in this month’s blog have to say!

Happy Reading,




Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
A.J. Maguire  http://ajmaguire.wordpress.com/
Fiona McGier http://www.fionamcgier.com/
Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1BC
Rhobin Courtright http://www.rhobincourtright.com

Monday, May 13, 2019

I'm Blogging at Romance Gems Today!

High Tea or Afternoon Tea? Will this American Writer Abandon her Mug of Coffee? By Connie Vines

Join in the Fun!  There is a chance to win prizes, too!

Romance Gems

Saturday, April 27, 2019

Does the Season Play a Part in Your Story? By Connie Vines

This month’s Round Robin Topic: 
Does the season ever play a part in your setting? 
How do you think seasons affect setting & plot either physically or metaphorically?

Winter Despair and Hope. References to winter in literature may refer to death, old age, pain, loneliness, despair or an end. Spring Joy and Love. Themes of rebirth and renewal often use symbols from the spring season. Summer Searches and Reflection. Autumn Bounty and Changes.

These are the classic examples of seasonal symbolism.  While I often rely on seasons to affect my plot or play a major part in my novel, I try to be less…well, symbolic.

In my YA Historical novel, Tanayia—Whisper upon the Water, my prologue and chapter openings gave the readers an emotional touch-stone into the life and emotions of my main character.

Prologue, 1880, Apacheria, Season of Ripened Berries.

Isolated bands of colored clay on white limestone remained where sagebrush was stripped from Mother Earth by sudden storms and surface waters. Desolate. Bleak. A land made of barren rocks and twisted paths that reached out into the silence.

A world of hunger and hardship.  This is my world.  I am Tanayia.  I was born thirteen winters ago.  My people and I call ourselves “Nde” means “The People”. The white man calls us Apache.

The seasons were: Swimming Ducks, Gathering Corn, Red Grass. 

However, if my main character had been Anna Thunder, a member of a nomadic tribe (Comanche) the seasons would have reflected her reality.

Settings and Plot 

I find my settings and plots usually reflect the seasons because the seasonal changes are an occurrence in our life.

I have an anthology set in New Orleans, Louisiana.  Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) is a part of the culture and my story has the season woven throughout the story line.

And, of course, my ranching/westerns have the seasons woven throughout the plot.

Brede, Rodeo Romance Book 2

Several hours later, she clung to the soothing tone of Brede’s voice as she cleared away the dishes and filled the sink with soapy water.  She trusted him to keep his promise.  Brede was the only constant in her life.  She only hoped when she discovered where she belonged it would be a world as safe as this one.

After nestling the last piece of silverware into the draining board, she reached for the saucepan and glanced out the rain-streaked window.  Thunder clapped overhead just before a jolt rattled the dishes in the cupboard.  Lightening stabbed the earth just beyond the kitchen window, bathing the room in a sharp flash of surreal brightness.

The flash of light was so unexpected, that it took her a moment to realize the electricity had gone out.
The saucepan slipped from her fingertips and clattered to the floor.

She tried to tell herself that it was only the storm and the lights would come back on in a matter of minutes. Still, terror that was icy cold and merciless grabbed her by the throat and crushed what little courage she possessed when the cloudy, moonless night turned the room to inky black.

She remembered the darkness, the terror, and the unrelenting sound of the rain.
She was alone.

Alone in the darkness.

A mindless whimper left her lips as her mind threw her back into a pit of terror.
I find the seasons a way to influence my plot-lines, and add depth to my settings and characterization.

Remember to visit the other members of Round Robin Blog.

Happy Reading,


   Skye Taylor http://www.skye-writer.com/blogging_by_the_sea
> Victoria Chatham http://www.victoriachatham.com
> Diane Bator http://dbator.blogspot.ca/
> Judith Copek http://lynx-sis.blogspot.com/
> Beverley Bateman http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
> Helena Fairfax http://www.helenafairfax.com/blog
> Rhobin L Courtright http://www.rhobincourtright.com
Dr. Bob Rich https://wp.me/p3Xihq-1yE

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