Monday, April 21, 2014

John Wayne - The Duke of Westerns by Ginger Simpson

As with all social medias that become important as an avenue of book promotion and reaching out to people, I've too, turned to Pinterest.  I know most folks are looking for boards that are unusual and entertaining, and I'm not smug enough to think people are going to come to my site just to read about me and my books.  Although I was at first reluctant to try involve myself in another site because my addiction to Facebook had already eaten up enough time to finish three novels, once I tried and discovered how easy it was to create a board and find fodder for Pinterest, I've crept over from time-to time and made quite a spectacle of myself.
 I offer the following to my visitors:
  • Videos Worth Watching
  • Love Those Westerns
  • Favorite Authors
  • Pictures That Have Special Meaning to Me
  • Political Stuff (can't help myself)
  • Helpful Tips and Ideas
  • Inspiration for Women (sexy men)
  • Places, Special Events and Sales (usually about contests, or thing that might be of interest to readers)
  • Funny Stuff
  • Countdown to Love (A special Karen Cote did for me that features lots of romantic stuff and all the graphics she did for me.)
  • First Kiss (An event I participated in on another blog where I feature everyone who shared their character's first kiss.)
  • Western Historical Romance
  • Shared Pins from Blogspot (places I visit on Blogger and share links here)
  • Places You Can Find Me (my website, blogs, special appearances, etc.)
  • Amazing Graphics (All the graphics Karen Cote has created to help promote my books...and those of Roseanne Dowell.)
  • Why I Won't Have Plastic Surgery
  • Who's Aging Gracefully
  • American Indian Love
  • Things I'll Never Wear (I'm having fun with this one.)
  • Can You Say "Eyebrows?"
  • People I Wish Were Still Here
  • Flashy Nails
  • Songs That Move Me
  • The Many Faces of John Wayne

Surprise of all surprises.  My inbox has been inundated with notices of "men" signing up to follow my John Wayne board.  I think I've finally struck their interest.  But then who didn't love "The Duke?"

In just a few hours after creating the board, I had amassed 323 followers for that particular one.  I have 329 pins of John Wayne there, but I plan to continue to add more as I find them.

I grew up on westerns around my house, and John Wayne was a frequent visitor to our television set.  I believe I've watched all of his movies countless times, and it really didn't matter if he wore a cowboy hat or an army uniform, he had swagger and sex appeal that made him unforgettable. Although some might argue he wasn't the best actor around, he certainly struck the heart of those who loved him...and obviously still do.  I may have to venture away from historical western romance and just write something down, dirty, and gritty like our hero.

You can find my Pinterest boards at

Friday, April 18, 2014

Friday Freebits with Ginger - #FriFreebits

Hi, and welcome to Friday Freebits, a great way to get a sneak peak into published and unpublished works of some of your favorite authors.  We're new and looking for others who want to share;  if you do, drop me an email at and let me know.

Today, I'm continuing with the book I'm reworking for re-release, Life is a Bowl of Toilets and I feel Flush.  Picking up where I left off, last week, and I hope you enjoy my offering.

Just a reminder...I was using six paragraphs from the chapter, Take This Job and Shove It:

Stupidity kept me at the nursery-landscape company for far longer than I should have stayed.  What started as a three-day-a-week position, turned immediately into five plus.  I was hired to be the assistant bookkeeper, but with his wife's departure, I kept my same crummy wage but acquired all her duties except for sleeping with her hubby.  I'm pretty sure I could have had that job too, if I would've wanted to cozy up in the sack.  I think my husband would've had a problem with that task.

I finally wised up the day the boss had my hauling five-gallon trees out in the landscaping yard.  Now I'd become a lacky?  I quit.  I was only one in an army of hundreds who came and went, judging by the number of W2 forms that arrived in the mail right before my departure.  Mr. Charming, it seemed, was hiring illegal immigrants, and faster than the INS snagged them back, he'd have another truckload delivered.  I'm glad I left.  The last thing I needed was trouble with the Feds.  Of course, I should have gotten a clue when none of the other employees spoke English.

From there, I went to work for a private industry, working for the unhappiest man alive.  I was young, inspired to be active, and played softball three nights a week--one of which I sprained my ankle.  Let me preface the incident by assuring you that "shit" does run down hill, as 'they' say.  My supervisor took crap all day from his boss, so he spread it around thick and idiotically.  For instance, one day he found something in the file cabinet stapled crookedly and demanded to know who did it.  I should have known that turnover was an issue there when I saw the empty desk that had been occupied when I went for my interview the week before.  But, live and learn.   Anyhow, the end came for me when I walked twenty-five paces across from my desk to the copy machine without my high-heel on my sprained foot and it became a major issue.  I'm pretty sure I cleaned out my desk and left at noon.

I applied for and was hired at another university, starting as a Senior Clerk.  I soon advanced to a Principal Clerk, and eventually worked my way up into management.  In all my twenty-plus years there, I never could figure out what a "Principal" clerk opposed to an unprincipled clerk?

All those years spent working at UCD inspired happy and sad memories.  I've let go of the sad and held on to the myriad of good times.  We kept a running "funny file" to document the wacky things that happened every day.  When you work with a diverse group of folks, trying to adjust to new cultures and languages, you're bound to see some amusing things.  Just trying to pronounce names created some pretty humorous situations.  I'm not lying here...these are real names, and in their homelands probably don't even raise a brow, but imagine when Semma Dong came in to meet with me.  I had a horrible time keeping a straight face.  Of course meeting Ms. Dong was mild compared to my first encounter with Fok Yu at a student orientation.  OMG, how would you like to go through life with that name?  I'm sure there were lots of other amusing things that happened, but I've been retired for a number of years now and my long term memory has joined my short and gone on hiatus.  This is just another big plus of aging...something I'm sure I'll cover in this book.


To be continued next week, but now, jump on over to my friends and see what they've offered up:

Jamie Hill
Roseanne Dowell
Tricia McGill
Juliet Waldron
Sydell Voeller
Taryn Raye
Kathy Fischer-Brown
Rhobin Lee Courtright

Thursday, April 17, 2014

INTERVIEW WITH Heroine from Ellie’s Legacy by Ginger Simpson

RF=Roselle Fountain

INT = Interviewer

Our special guest this evening is Miss Roselle Fountain, the heroine from author, Ginger Simpson’s western historical, Ellie’s Legacy. Welcome, Roselle. 

RF – *Fidgeting* Oh please call me Ellie.  I’ve never much identified with such a flowery name.  You probably can’t tell by the way I’m dressed today, but I’ve always been somewhat of a tomboy.

INT - *Laughing*.  So I’ve heard.  You look very nice in your flowered print—very much the lady.

RF – That’s Pa’s doing.  He insisted that if I was going to make an appearance, I needed to dress like a lady.  I’d much rather be wearing britches and boots. *Tugs at the neckline of her dress*.  These things are too danged uncomfortable at times.

INT – So, Ellie, tell the readers a little about Ellie’s Legacy.

RF – *Grins* Well, I can’t give away too much.  Ginger would skin me alive, but I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you that it’s got a little romance, a lot of western, and even more feistiness than her last historical romance.  It all starts when Pa hires Tyler Bishop as the ranch foreman.  I kinda figured Pa always wanted a son, and Ty proves me right. Their relationship gets me pretty riled up.  I have a bad temper at times… I think it comes from this red hair.  *pulls a strand of hair forward and smiles*.

INT – So, besides your being jealous of Ty, is there any adventure involved.

RF – Oh, you bet.  *Squares herself in her chair*.  The polecats that live on the neighboring ranch are aiming to get Fountainhead away from Pa.  Dude Bryant and his twin boys are meaner than snakes… well at least Dude and Jason are.  Joshua comes across as quiet and a follower.  But, *balls hands into fists* I’ll be danged if they’re gonna get my legacy.  I actually bought a gun and taught myself to shoot it. 

INT – A gun?  What do you plan to do with it?

RF – Protect Fountainhead of course.  I’m aim to show Pa he don’t need Tyler Bishop around when he has me.  I just wish that Ty wasn’t so dang good lookin’.

INT – I haven’t heard you mention your mother.  How does she feel about you owning a gun?

RF - *Lowers her eyes*.  My ma died when I was very young.  I suppose that’s why I took up with the ranch hands and spend so much time workin’ outdoors.  *Raises a steely gaze*.  But, now that Ty’s in the picture, Pa wants me to spend more time in the house doing womanly things.

INT – Would that be such a bad thing?

RF – Of course it would.  I don’t much care for cookin’ and cleanin’.  We have Cook for that.  I’d much rather brand a cow as fry one.

INT – So what about the romance part of the story?

RF – *Chews her bottom lip for a moment* I can’t tell you much more than I accompany Ty to a dance, but as usual, he gets my dander up there, too.  What happens from then on, you’ll have to find out for yourself.  I may look young and na├»ve, but I’m not silly enough to give away the whole story.  Miz Ginger is counting on sales to help pay for something called a root canal.  I wouldn’t want to let her down.

INT – I certainly wouldn’t want you to do that either.  You’ve given us enough of a teaser to stir some interest.  Hopefully we’ll see you on a best seller’s list somewhere.

RF – That would be right nice.  It just may happen cause remember, I have a gun. *Slaps hip and fakes a draw*.

INT -  Well, here’s hoping you don’t have to use it.  *laughs*.  Thank you so much, Ellie for being with us today.  And good luck in the future.

RF – Oh, yeah.  I almost forgot to tell you that Ellie’s Legacy is available on Amazon, published by Books We Love.  I reckon the copies are available on something called the Innernet.  *pulls paper from pocket.*  Miz Ginger gave me this to read: www dot amazon dot com forward slash author forward slash gingersimpson.  It’s her page where you can see all her books.  I hope I got that right.

INT – Sounds fine to me. Thanks again, Ellie.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

A Post Straight From Jamie HIll #apagestraightfrom

Blame It On The Stars

When she got home and pushed her garage door opener, she saw Steve’s BMW. “Damn it!” She slapped her dash board, and parked on the street. “Well, he can just come and get it.” She closed the garage door, and dropped the opener in her pocket. She hauled her suitcases up to the front door, and went in.
She threw herself on her bed, but realized her pillow smelled like Steve. For some reason that made her want to cry, but she wasn’t ready to cry yet. She was too angry.
Catlin unpacked and puttered around her house. The phone rang three separate times, but she never answered it. Finally, two hours later, her doorbell rang. She peeked out and saw Steve on the steps. She opened the door, unsmiling.
“Can I come in?” He asked quietly. He was not smiling either.
“Not even if my hair was on fire,” she replied. “And you held the only bucket of water on Earth.”
He nodded. “David dropped me off.”
She stared at him.
“I came to pick up my car.”
“Well, duh.” She leaned against her door frame.
“Catlin, I—”
She cut him off. “I think I’ve heard just about enough out of you today. You’re on my turf now, and if you want your car, you’re going to listen to me for a minute.”
“Well—” he started.
She jumped in again. “No! I’m talking now. Don’t you ever speak to me like you did today. I am not your child, and I won’t be spoken to in that tone.” She poked him in the chest with her finger. “If you want to fight, we’ll fight. I’ll go nose to nose with you. But cut out that condescending bullshit and I mean it.”
“If you don’t want to be spoken to like a child, then maybe you shouldn’t act like a child.”
She shook her head. “Are you serious? I don’t think I was acting like a child. Okay, I made a mistake. I knew better than to listen in. But I did not encourage Dana to do so. She fell into that room on purpose, by the way.”
Steve looked surprised, and Catlin continued. “And how dare you tell me that your conversation was none of my business? We’ve been together for a month now. Haven’t you figured out that what affects you, affects me? I love you, and I’m tired of that feeling not being reciprocated.”
He said slowly, “A month is not twenty-one years, Catlin.”
She looked at him angrily. “It’s a good thing you’re going out of town this week, because you have some decisions to make. You have two women who want you, imagine that. But you have to make a choice, because I’m not waiting around forever. And if you choose twenty-one years...well, I’ll be pissed. But eventually I’ll get over it.” She poked him in the chest with her finger again. “But if you choose me, I expect you to mean it. No more screwing around with my heart. And when we get to that anniversary, we’re skipping from twenty to twenty-two. Because I never want to hear the words twenty-one years again.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out her garage door opener. She pressed the button, and the door went up. “Now get the fuck out of here.”
As she walked back into her house, Steve said, “Can I say one thing?”
“No.” She closed the door in his face, and locked it.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Good, Bad & The Ugly

Still sick, and Rita is still healing from wrist surgery and a torn retina.  Between the two of us, maybe we should just turn ourselves into a nearby glue factory.  They'd probably reject us.

This is a re-run for 2009.  The Book listed in the review has since been re-released as Ellie's Legacy by Books We Love.  You'll's a sweet romance. *smile*

I recently read the absolute worst review I have ever received since I became published in 2003. Normally, I can let the fact that ONE person didn't appreciate my efforts roll off my back, but this reviewer made it personal. I read her novella-length review, and wondered why she didn't write her own novel instead of picking mine to pieces. If she read the blurb, she should have known it wasn't her "cup of tea," so why spend the time on something you know you wouldn't enjoy from the get go? She started out her tirade listing all the things my book wasn't...again, evident from the blurb provided her.

Her points were delivered in her first paragraph, but she felt a need to animate her review with *sighs* and cliches...with which she compared my storyline. I believe she said the idea wasn't original. Am I mistaken, or hasn't the saying "history repeats itself" become popular because history does?

And of course, she lamented there was only one chaste kiss in the story. Could it be because Sparta Rose (Ellie's Legacy) isn't Erotica, rather sweet romance? What a concept.

My biggest mistake, it seems, was not writing the exact western she expected. She didn't want Little House on the Prairie, she wanted a shoot-em-up, painted whores on a piano, more sex, and a Gerald Butler look-alike for the hero. Sorry, but he does nothing for me and I quite liked the hero I created. John Wayne is dead, so get over it, and Clint Eastwood won't ever star as a sexy leading man again. He's approaching 80! If you want Hang 'Em High or Rooster Cogburn, then watch Saturday reruns on the western channel.

Hey, I've been in a reviewers shoes, several times and I appreciate that it's a demanding and thankless job. I also respect the reviewer's write to their opinion, but when you become "snarky," then you've turned the review into a personal attack and put the author on the defensive. I might have let this whole thing go, but when I read her response to my comment on the site, my rage flared again: "Although I know my review came off as snarky and cynical, that was not my intentions."

If you know your review comes off as snarky and cynical, then what exactly were your intentions? To invite me over for tea and crumpets?

Wikipedia defines SNARKY as follows:

ADJECTIVE - Snide and sarcastic; usually out of irritation.

Sparta Rose (Ellie's Legacy) was a labor of love for me. Inspired by the Cumberland Mountains where I lived for a time, Sparta, TN is rich with history, and I attempted to capture some of it in my historical offering.

This nameless person claims her review was her attempt at humor, but I suggest she leave that to comedians. There is nothing humorous about book reviewing. Authors take these written words very seriously and the end result can honestly impact someone's future. What I can paraphrase from this nightmare...although she made mention in a negative way, is her comparison of my story with an offering from Laura Ingalls Wilder. Little House on the Prairie has entertained millions for years, so I guess "it ain't all bad."

Life goes on and reviews keep coming. There are those who enjoy my work and will continue to read my books, and like I've reminded my peers before...there isn't an author alive or dead whose work is appreciated by everyone. This summarized assassination just stopped me dead in my tracks and inspired me to put on the boxing gloves...or in this case, my blogging gloves. Thank goodness for non-violent avenues of stress release.

I applaud all the reviewers out there who know the secret of capturing the good, bad and the ugly, but doing it in a way that a person can appreciate and learn from. I'm never above constructive criticism.

Here's an EXCERPT from this horrible, boring, predictable story with flat characters and an overdone plot:

Ellie delighted in the dumbstruck look on his face. She’d matched him shot for shot. Maybe she’d taken a split second longer, but she’d knocked down all her cans. Wasn’t that what counted? What she set out to do?

Ty still hadn’t said a word. He kept staring at the log as if expecting his one remaining can to fall, or for one of hers to jump back up on it. Ellie couldn’t stand the silence, and containing her need to gloat got harder by the moment.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Her lips curved into a smug smile.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what to say. It looks as though your practicing has paid off. Good thing we didn’t really wager anything on it.”

She erupted into uncontrollable laughter. It couldn’t be helped. Her glee at proving she could shoot, and at this moment, better than him, was cause for celebration. She covered her mouth to stifle her levity. It seemed overly cruel to rub it in too much.

“And…just what would you have wagered?” Her curiosity piqued.

Without a word, Ty closed the distance between them, gathered her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Her eyes widened, and a gasp of surprise parted her lips enough for his tongue to dart inside to mingle with her own. Shivers of delight coursed through her body, turning her knees to jelly. Her startled eyes slowly closed and she melted into his embrace.

Just as she started to revel in the moment, he pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “That’s what I would have wagered,” he said matter-of-factly. “Too bad I lost.”

With a grin, he turned and began gathering up the strewn cans and putting them back into his burlap sack.

Ellie stood, frozen to the spot, her fingers tracing her mouth. Her heart raced. She’d dreamed of the moment he’d kiss her, but this was nothing like she had imagined. It happened so quick, over and done, but it was still magnificent. His lips were so soft, yet demanding, his embrace strong, but tender. She took a deep breath.
Ty fished in the grass for the last can, affording Ellie a perfect view of a taut behind, encased in fitting denims. Years of riding had evidently created strong muscular legs, visible even beneath his clothing. She naughtily pondered his naked form and fought the flush she felt creeping up her neck. Her flapping fingers fanned her face while she tried to compose.

With a loud whoosh of air, she chased the unladylike thoughts from her head and the warmness from her cheeks. Her fingertips again outlined the lips that only moments ago had been kissed for the very first time.

“We best saddle up and get home to check on your pa,” Ty announced.
He startled her from her reverie. She dropped her hand and nodded. Although her legs felt leaden, she walked to her horse, untied the mare’s reins and pulled herself astride. Nudging Chessie, Ellie caught up with and rode alongside Ty.

Now to make myself feel better, I'll go read the 5 Heart Review the book earned at The Romance Studio!

You can find Ellie's Legacy available on my Amazon Author's Page.

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