Conversations

In Conversation With… Ivan Scott

It didnโ€™t hit me until later, but after thinking about it, I have liked to write all my life. I remember when I was in third grade writing a story about a day in the classroom. Then when I was 16, I wrote a story about my baseball team and all the different personalities on it, and the fun times we had playing. I think the reason why I began writing is I wanted parts of life to be remembered, and writing gave me that opportunity. I am sure there are millions of moments in all our lives, and when they are captured, they live forever, no matter how many years pass. I am sure some of what Shakespeare wrote were things that he saw, or things that happened to him, and he wrote them down and used them in his stories, so in that way, they live forever.

Well, I have a muse at home who is a redhead, so I think a lot of what goes into the redheaded heroines in my stories comes from being married to her. All the strength, weakness, vulnerability, courage, and funny moments come from our time together. I call her Red, which is my endearing nickname for her, and in my stories, there is a little bit of her in each of the heroines. As I mentioned before, in my stories, I want them to live forever, so if one day I am not here, Red will have my book as a lasting time capsule of our time together and the love we shared over the years. And I have to add that I have always been intrigued and dazzled by redheads. I think itโ€™s because they are so different than other women (I think only 1-2% have red hair in the world) so that makes them intriguing to me. I also know that they were bullied in school (Red was too), so I like to write about them being strong, courageous and intelligent characters that have overcome adversity in their lives. Donโ€™t get me wrong, I find all kinds of hair color attractive, but itโ€™s the redheads that have a special place in my heart.

I think readers of all hair colors will enjoy my books, especially now where we need a happy ending in the world. My stories feature people going through adversity, but also have a large dose of humour, since we all need that. I also like to put in a lesson about living life to the fullest, and never taking for granted anything, since we never know when our time might come. I was in an accident a few years ago, and while I was in the hospital, I was next to a man who was in worse shape, he couldnโ€™t talk and had to write out what he wanted to a nurse who sat next to his bed. It got me to thinking how things can change in an instant, and if I couldnโ€™t write any longer, or be with my loved ones, I would regret it, so I made up my mind to never take a day for granted. Do the things you want to do now, while you have the chance. Say I love you to the people special to you. Take that trip. Write that book. Sing that song. Because one day, you might not have that opportunity.

What do men know about romance anyway? Haha I think for me, I have always had a thing for the boy meets girl, and how lovers find each other. And then throw in how boy might lose girl, and how will boy get girl back, and you have a story for the ages. I think everyone has had that kind of experience in their lives, so they can relate to how we find love, but can also lose love and how we live after both outcomes. Yeah, I think for a man, itโ€™s tough to write in this genre. I have to work extra hard to make sure I write my stories with all respect and courtesy to my female heroines, but also to the reader. I laugh about people telling me about a man who describes making love to a woman, and all the crass, insulting, and vulgar terms they think will make the story compelling. Oh, and donโ€™t forget the female anatomy descriptions! I read some of those and laugh since itโ€™s so outrageous, but also, I cringe since itโ€™s disrespectful. My stories are all sweet romance that leave the rest to the imagination of the reader. Besides, I donโ€™t think I could ever write a sex scene since I would be laughing too hard. Plus, my Mom would read itโ€ฆhaha. One of the best examples of a love scene that put the reader into the scene without any profane terms was Hemingwayโ€™s, For Whom The Bell Tolls. He wrote a scene where two people are making love, but never write a word about the action, or the body parts, or uses any profane terms. But you see and feel the scene as if you were there. Thatโ€™s the way to stir emotion in a reader with class and style.

You should see my man cave, AKA The Hemingway Room. I have wall to wall bookshelves with several genres, so it depends on my mood. I like biographies, and historical books about times and places. I am a Churchill fan, so I like reading about him and what he did during World War Two. The Last Lion series was wonderful! Currently, I am reading, The Greatest Ballpark Ever, which is a story about Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, which was home to the Brooklyn Dodgers from 1913-1957. Since I am editing my next book, which is a time travel romance where the lead character goes back in time to play baseball for the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers, I am reading up on locations, moments and places so I can add them to the story. Of course, there is a girl in 1955 and the protagonist must decide to either stay in 1955 with her or come back to present day.

I think they both offer something for the writer, so there are pros and cons to both. With traditional publishing, you usually have to find an agent who will represent you, and that takes time and a little luck. Then the agent sells you and the story to a publishing company, who takes over everything from marketing, promotion, creating the book cover art all the way to editing your story and getting it ready to be published. Itโ€™s a long road and the odds are long, but if you can get an agent and a house to publish your book, you are all set.

With self-publishing, you call all the shots. That means you write and edit the book, create the cover art, market and promote it, and also format the book. You are responsible for everything. For me, I didnโ€™t have a choice since I could not find an agent, so I couldnโ€™t sell my book to a publishing house, so everything fell on me. I didnโ€™t mind since I enjoyed writing the book, and editing, although I needed beta readers and an editor to help with the things I missed. Like typos and making sure the plot and the characters were consistent. I didnโ€™t know anything about creating cover art, so I learned Photoshop, and after a lot of trial and error, I came up with a cover that I liked. And formatting was not fun, but I didnโ€™t have the money to hire a formatter, so I learned that too using Adobe InDesign. Learning on the fly took time, but it brought me closer to my stories and made me appreciate the process of writing and publishing a book.

In the end, it all comes down to whatever the author wants to do. Give up control and have the work done for you, and also low revenue per book sold, or keep control, keep more of the profits, but have a lot of work to do. I can see reasons for both.

Glad you asked! As I wrote before, I have a time travel romance coming out this spring titled, A Redhead in Brooklyn. Sam Murdock goes back in time to play baseball with the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers, which fulfils a lifetime dream of playing in the major leagues. Even if it is in 1955. There he meets sassy Brooklynn Kennedy, and at first, their relationship is as icy as a trip to the Artic Circle, but as time passes and summer comes to Ebbets Field, their relationship warms up. But when the season is over, and itโ€™s time for Sam to go back, will he decide to stay in 1955, or go back to the present? And when a mix-up leaves Sam without a time, place or his girl, what will become of him?

The next book is titled, The Redhead and the Fountain Pen. When Mark Dawson finds a Dear Jill letter in a copy of his favorite book, The Great Gatsby in a used bookstore, he is intrigued and writes back to the girl to find out what happened and if he can help since heโ€™s getting over a broken heart too. Since they both arenโ€™t on social media, they donโ€™t know anything about what each other looks like, sounds like, or anything else. All they have are the words in their letters to each other, both using a fountain pen, which is their favorite way to write. Itโ€™s a throwback to the days when people write letters, not scanning social media sites, and how they fall in love with each other only by their words and feelings. But what will happen when they finally meet and see each other in person for the first time? 

I think Hemingwayโ€™s advice about writing a first draft is so true. He wrote that the first draft of anything is sh**, and a lot of writers get discouraged after reading their first draft. Donโ€™t. Keep writing and take the time to shape your manuscript into the story that you want to tell. There will be plenty of rejection and youโ€™ll get discouraged, but in the end, you have to stay strong and know that in your heart, you can do it. As I wrote earlier, one day, you wonโ€™t be able to write, and youโ€™ll regret not taking the chance to do something that will live forever. I know when I held my first book in my hands, it as a feeling of euphoria and I knew that no matter if anyone else ever read my book, I wrote it, and it was now real, and nothing and nobody could ever take that away from me. Believe in yourself and donโ€™t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot do. It all rests with you and if you have passion and persistence, you can do anything you set out to do. Good luck!

promotion

Self-promo 2023 (Ep. 39): Dennis Young

The Mercenary Trilogy. Dennis Young, 2019.

When your dreams are taken away, what can you do?

Talice Wyloh was a covert-ops Marine. The operative word: was. Now sheโ€™s an off-world mercenary with the best team in the business. And being the best means the most dangerous missions, the strongest of adversaries, and the most likely to gain enemies. Including those who were once Marines themselves, and teammates. Jance Sukano is such an enemy. A brilliant, capable person who will do anything to win. Talice and Jance have gone toe-to-toe for a very long time. Stalemate.
And now with the disease she contracted on her last Marine mission ten years ago still eating at her guts, Talice must come off her deathbed and stop Jance one last time. Going out in a blaze of glory isnโ€™t exactly what Talice had in mind. But sometimes itโ€™s not about you; itโ€™s about the job. And Talice Wyloh was never one to back down from a challenge.

Like the rest of my books, even this one sees girls in powerful and prominent positions – there are several female starship captains, first officers, scientists, doctors, bridge personnel and so on.

I worked a normal job all my life, from high school to my retirement in 2015. In 2005 I
began writing what likely turned out to be my Magnum Opus: The Ardwellian Chronicles epic fantasy adventure series. For thirteen years I wrote Ardwel; itโ€™s peoples, places, and saga. Now, the Saga is complete and I started working on other things. Iโ€™ve read Science Fiction since I was in the third grade. I enjoy a mystery from
time to time. I donโ€™t read horror, but I can write a pretty good tale of horror. Or dystopia. And Iโ€™m a First- Generation Trekker.โ€‹
With my current collections of Epic Fantasy, Military SF, SF Adventure, and Vampire
Urban Fantasy, I’m always on the lookout for a new project or topic. I don’t like to do the same type of stories over and over, and I’m certainly not adverse to researching a new genre. After all, learning new things is a good way to give your brain a workout and put that information to use in a good story.

They can find me on my website or they can contact me on Facebook.


self-published

The Waves of Change: Sam’s Story

The Waves Of Change (Whistle Bay Book One). Heaton Wilson, 2023.

Sam, a stuttering local ex-footballer, has redeemed his father’s deckchairs business after his death, 18 months ago. His mother has been dead for 5 years now, and his older brother Mikey is a fisherman. They also had another brother, Sean, older than Sam by a bunch of years, who died in his teens due to a heart condition.

At the age of 25, Sam is alone. The relationship with Mikey has always been rocky, due to the age gap and the fact that Sam and Sean were closer as kids. But all this will change with Mikey’s illness, and Sam will find himself in a very unpleasant position. He won’t be alone, though, because along the way he will find the support of Lindsay, a painter who made her name in London but who used to come to Whistle Bay as a child with her parents. “I need to refresh my mind and reconnect with my art, that’s why I am here” she tells Sam when they meet for the second time, when she rents one of his chairs for the day, spending her time sketching on the beach, and Sally, a high school mate and his real first love, something he finally confesses to her so many years later.

‘The Waves of Change’ is a delicate book, narrated with a light pen and full of distinctive characters, like Mouthy Stan or ‘Appy Aaron, that bring a delightful touch of colour in a reality so sad and decrepit. Unfortunately, so many UK seaside villages that reached their peak during the ’60s and ’70s are now slowly but painfully degrading, with the younger generations keen to go abroad for a bunch of pounds more. It also touches delicate themes like a terminal disease, love relationships and family problems, but never with a judging or pitiful eye. The story is also full of unexpected twists and turns, keeping the read interesting and suspenseful.

At times, however, it misses the necessary ‘deeper plunge’ into the narrative, made of detailed sharp descriptions and quick dialogues, which we feel would definitely elevate the whole book to a totally new dimension.

Still, we are still quite impressed by the change of tone and register from the previous books and will definitely wait impatiently for book two.

All books by Heaton Wilson are available for purchase on Amazon.

short stories

October Leaves

โ€œHenry? What do you think of this dress?โ€ Eleanor asked.
Henry turned from the mirror and looked over. His eyes explored every inch of her body and the further he searched, his eyes and smile widened.
โ€œOh yeah.โ€ He gave her one last loving look. โ€œDamn, youโ€™re beautiful.โ€
Eleanor blushed. โ€œYou think those kinds of words will get me back in the sack, donโ€™t you? You know, Henry, I wore you out this morning so I am surprised you want to go for the two times.โ€
โ€œAh, such sweet sacrifices we make for the ones we love. And yes, I fully believe I can get you back in the sack one more time before we have to leave.โ€
Eleanor smiled and shook her head. โ€œYeah, youโ€™re probably right.โ€ She retreated into the closet.
Henry squirted toothpaste on his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth. After he finished, he looked over to the closet. โ€œDid I tell you how beautiful you looked this morning?โ€
From the closet, Eleanor replied, โ€œYes. You did. Why do you think I keep you around?โ€
Henry laughed.
โ€œHeels or boots?โ€ came her voice from the other side of the door.
โ€œAfter all these years, you have to ask?โ€
โ€œYeah. Silly question.โ€
After hearing a few zips, Henryโ€™s eyes moved to the door, looking forward to her appearance. As she walked into the bathroom, his eyes widened.
โ€œDamn, You are gorgeous.โ€
Eleanor curtseyed. โ€œThank you, my handsome hubby.โ€
As Henry continued looking at her, Eleanor shook her head. โ€œI know you like these boots, but try to control yourself. You have a presentation. I canโ€™t wait to hear what you came up with.โ€
โ€œWell, you know me when it comes to speaking in public.โ€ he smiled. โ€œOh, what the hell. Iโ€™m sure for you, I can summon up whatever I need to leave the audience begging for more.โ€
Eleanor walked to him, holding a blue bow tie with white polka dots. โ€œI think this will go well with your suit. I want to make sure your presentation today is first class from top to bottom.โ€
She pulled it around his neck, then nestled up to his back and brought her arms around him so she could tie it for him.
โ€œYou know what I was thinking about the other day?โ€ Henry asked.
โ€œI have no idea,โ€ she replied as she focused on knotting the tie.
โ€œRemember the first time we met?โ€
Eleanor stopped. โ€œThe night I got thrown out of the bar? What made you think of
that?โ€
โ€œOh, I donโ€™t know. I was just thinking of the old days. And you came up with the bright idea of returning about a half hour later with your hair up under a ball cap and wearing your glasses so the bouncer wouldnโ€™t recognise you.โ€
โ€œI really thought that was going to work,โ€ she said with a giggle. โ€œI would have made it too, if I hadn’t left my purse inside with all my money and I.D.โ€ Henry looked at her as she wrapped the tie around itself and pulled it. โ€œWell, if it wasnโ€™t for that, we might not have met. You were my knight in shining armor,โ€ she told him.
โ€œYeah. I guess I was. Your purse was lying next to me on the bar, and when you
knocked on the window and pointed at it, I thought I had won the lottery.โ€
โ€œMe too,โ€ she told him as she shaped the bow. โ€œFunny how we might not have
met had I not slipped off that barstool and the bartender snitched on me.โ€
โ€œSlipped off? More like fell off.โ€
โ€œIt wasnโ€™t my fault. I was overserved.โ€
Henry laughed. โ€œIf I had a dime for everytime youโ€™ve said that.โ€
Eleanor laughed, then tightened the ends. After straightening it, she smiled.
โ€œThere you go, you handsome devil.โ€
โ€œSure we canโ€™t go for that two times you promised?โ€ He asked with hopeful eyes.
โ€œNo, you silly goose. You have to leave the audience wanting more, remember?โ€
Henry looked into the mirror and smiled. โ€œYes, youโ€™re right.โ€ He nodded and looked at her through the mirror. “Youโ€™re right. I am quite dashing.โ€
As the pair walked into the bedroom, Henry picked up his navy blue jacket and slid it on. After flattening his lapels, he asked, โ€œHow do I look?โ€
โ€œLike the night we first met,โ€ she said, a glow emitting from her cheeks. โ€œShall we
go?โ€
โ€œSure. Hey, hereโ€™s a thought. Since we have a little time, do you want to walk through St. Joseph’s? After all, it is the first place we met before our first date.โ€
โ€œI think we can make that work,โ€ she smiled.

#

The pair held hands on a breezy morning, sidestepping puddles from the previous nightโ€™s rain. Henry made sure Eleanor missed the puddle, then looked over and said,
โ€œRemember that place?โ€
Eleanor followed his eyes. When she recognized the cobblestone building, she
smiled.
โ€œYes. I do.โ€
โ€œAnd I hate coffee,โ€ he told her.
โ€œThank God they had tea.โ€
โ€œDid you ever think after all these years, our love affair would begin in that place? He asked. โ€œAnd the funny thing is we spent hours talking and there was not an alcoholic
beverage in sight. I canโ€™t remember what we talked about, but we were sober when we
did.โ€
โ€œI told you more than once that was the longest I ever spoke to a boy and didnโ€™t
have any alcohol,โ€ she giggled.
โ€œThat was probably the only time,โ€ he joked. He shook his head, then took another look at the building, wanting to make it last as long as he could before having to
do what he came to do. โ€œYeah. That was a night.โ€
As they walked, copper, crimson and butterscotch leaves had their last moment
of glory in the sky, radiating with the beauty of Heaven as they fluttered to the ground.
โ€œYou see those leaves?โ€ he asked.
Elanor looked up, and saw the leaves dropping on them. โ€œOh yeah. They are gorgeous. Youโ€™ve always had a thing for the autumn leaves.โ€
โ€œYeah, I guess I have.โ€
โ€œWhy?โ€ she asked.
Henry gazed up at the colors descending on them. โ€œI guess they remind me of you.โ€
โ€œMe?โ€
โ€œYeah. Remember the old saying, โ€˜Donโ€™t lose your redhead in the leaves.โ€™ With your hair, itโ€™s a wonder I didnโ€™t have to file a missing persons report on you when October arrived.โ€
Eleanor laughed. โ€œYeah, I can see that.โ€
Henry continued. โ€œI also think itโ€™s because the autumn leaves are amazing. Colourful. And when I see them, it makes me feel alive. Just like you,โ€ he said, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. After a few more steps, he continued. โ€œAll these beautiful leaves, who once pulsated in the glory of life, gave us something to marvel over, as the world was nothing but warm, sun splashed days, some so vivid and bright you think they would never end.โ€ Henry paused. โ€œThis October, though, they remind me more of us.โ€
โ€œSooner or later, everything comes to an end.”
But why does this remind you of us?โ€
โ€œI think because here are these leaves, and when their time is over, they give us one last moment of beauty. They had their moment, but time found them, and once it did, resigned them to the fate we all succumb to as we recede into October. All thatโ€™s left is the memory of their triumph as they give the world one last chance to see their beauty before they are gone forever.โ€
Eleanor nodded. โ€œYeah. I see what you mean now.โ€
โ€œMake sure to savour the irony.โ€
โ€œYeah. I think I will.โ€

#

After a few blocks, they arrived at St. Josephโ€™s Park. As always, Eleanor led him to the
hydrangea bushes. The pinks, purples and baby blues glowed in the damp sunshine.
โ€œThese are gorgeous,โ€ she said, as she stared at them.
Henryโ€™s knees buckled at the sight of her face, happy and glowing, then he found the strength to hold himself up. โ€œYou and your hydrangeas. They always make you smile. If I didnโ€™t know you loved me so much, Iโ€™d think you have a little something on the side.โ€
โ€œYou better watch out, Harry darling. I just might.โ€
When Henryโ€™s grin grew and he continued smiling at her, Eleanor asked, โ€œWhy are you looking at me like that?โ€
โ€œI justโ€ฆ Iโ€™m soaking you all in. This one moment. A moment that could never be taken away. Now is all that matters.โ€
โ€œIt does,โ€ she said with a nod.
โ€œWe stood in the same world, at the same time. I knew this would be over one day, and the memory would forever be banished into the blur of other moments in life
that nobody remembered or even cared about. But Iโ€™ll remember. And thatโ€™s good
enough for meโ€.
Eleanor, blushed, and wiped a small tear from her eye. Then she cupped his cheek in her gloved hand.
โ€œWhy are you crying?โ€ He asked.
โ€œIโ€™m not. Itโ€™s justโ€ฆ autumn allergies,โ€ she assured him, then she sniffled and recovered with a smile.
Henry held her. โ€œYou look the same as the first night we met. I have to confess, on that night, Iโ€™ve never felt like that in my life.โ€
โ€œI hope you know how much I love you, darling.โ€ She moved closer and kissed him on the cheek. Harry blushed. Eleanor’s eyes lit up.
He brushed a couple of curly strains of cinnamon hair from her face, locked his
eyes on hers and said, โ€œI hope you know how much I love you too, Eleanor.โ€
As they walked along the grounds, Henry looked into the distance, seeing where he needed to be. โ€œDid you ever think weโ€™d be standing here, after all these years, still
together?โ€ He asked.
โ€œYeah, I did.โ€
โ€œHow did you know?โ€
Eleanor wrapped her arm through his and nestled in close. She grinned. โ€œWhen that one perfect night comes, you just know. How about you? Did you know when we
first met?โ€
Henry thought for a few seconds, then told her, โ€œYeah. Even before there was you, there was the dream of you.โ€
โ€œGood to know I am your dream girl.โ€
Henry looked ahead. โ€œI know the day will come when weโ€™ll be far apart. And Iโ€™ll be
sad. But I can live with it.โ€
โ€œYou can?โ€
โ€œYeah,โ€ he nodded. โ€œBecause nobody can take away what happened here. What
happened to us. This is our victory. Our victory will last forever.โ€
โ€œForever,โ€ she repeated as her eyes narrowed, and a defiant smile came to her lips.
As they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk, Eleanor asked, โ€œAre you afraid?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€
After a few more steps, she said, โ€œYouโ€™re shaking.โ€
Henry shrugged. โ€œThereโ€™s one thing Iโ€™m afraid of,โ€ he confessed as they moved
forward. โ€œHow Iโ€™m going to feel when the moment is over. Iโ€™ll be all alone. Wondering
where you are.โ€
โ€œI know,โ€ she replied. โ€œBut we must live in the moment. Itโ€™s all we have. Itโ€™s the
one thing that time can never take away from us. Once it becomes reality, it becomes
ours. Forever.โ€
โ€œBut you wonโ€™t be here.โ€
โ€œOh, I will be. Youโ€™ll take me wherever you go so Iโ€™ll be there when you need me.โ€
Eleanor stopped and they faced each other. She placed her arms on Henryโ€™s shoulders and looked into his eyes. โ€œWe only have now,โ€ she whispered. โ€œTomorrow will come. Itโ€™s inevitable. But nothing can take away what we have right now. Kiss me. Kiss me into your forever,โ€ she asked, her voice soft and sweet.
โ€œNo. Not yet,โ€ he told her. โ€œI want to hold you. I want to remember how you smelled. I want to remember the way my heart felt when I held you close to me. I want to fool myself into believing that no matter what happens tomorrow, our hearts will beat together.โ€ Henry paused, then told her, โ€œI want to make sure that no matter where I go,
youโ€™ll be there.โ€ Henry rubbed his finger across her cheek, then brushed another strand of hair from her face. โ€œI want to remember everything about your face so no matter what happens after this is over, Iโ€™ll never forget you.โ€ Henry gave her a long, meaningful gaze, then said, โ€œTell me you love me.โ€
โ€œYou already know the answer.โ€
โ€œIโ€™ve always known. But I want to hear you say it. I want to hear it in your voice so
that when tomorrow comes, I can hear it as many times as I need to.โ€ His eyes pleaded
to hear her voice say the words. โ€œTell me you love me.โ€
โ€œI love you.โ€
Their lips met in a passionate dance only lovers who have that certain feeling give to each other. When the kiss ended, she looked up and smiled. โ€œYou have to go.โ€ Before Henry objected, she added, โ€œItโ€™s okay. This can never be taken away.โ€
โ€œBut thatโ€™s the part that breaks my heart,โ€ he told her.
โ€œDonโ€™t feel sad my darling. Not everyone can say they had their moment in time.โ€
โ€œWill I ever see you again?โ€
โ€œEvery day,โ€ she smiled.
โ€œI will?โ€
โ€œOh yeah,โ€ she assured him. โ€œYouโ€™ll see me in the sunrise. Or in the breeze. And in the leaves of October. When you see those things, Iโ€™ll be there. Thatโ€™s all that matters. We lived. We loved. And we found each other, if only for a tiny flicker of time.โ€
Eleanor reached up and straightened his bow tie. โ€œYou look perfect. Now go in there
and do what you have to do.โ€
Henry smiled. โ€œI will.โ€
โ€œAnd what will you say about me?โ€
Henry smiled. โ€œAfter all these years, you still leave me speechless.โ€ He gazed
into her eyes, letting the look linger so she knew it wasnโ€™t just a look. โ€œDonโ€™t worry. Iโ€™ll
know what to say.โ€
โ€œYouโ€™ll be great,โ€ she assured him.
โ€œWill you be there?โ€
โ€œOf course. I wouldnโ€™t miss it for the world.โ€
โ€œPromise?โ€ he asked, as the tears gave away the walls he built so he could get through today.
โ€œHave I ever lied to you before?โ€
Henry shook his head.
โ€œWell, Iโ€™m not going to start now.โ€ She ran her hand across the back of his neck.
โ€œGo, my darling. And donโ€™t worry about anything. Iโ€™ll be with you. Always.โ€
Henry gave her a final look. โ€œGood bye, Eleanor.โ€
โ€œGood bye, Henry.โ€
They shared a final kiss and embrace, then he turned and walked away. When he looked back to ask her a question, Eleanor was no longer there. He scanned the sidewalk, then nodded. After he accepted the fact she was no longer there, he turned
and walked toward the church.

self-published

Redhead in a Blue Convertible

Redhead In A Blue Convertible. Ivan Sott, 2019.


Sarah Farnsworth, a British surgeon who works in the US, is a Tottenham fan and has a ‘funny’ accent (for American standards), enters the operating theatre to perform a surgery that, on paper, is straightforward and low-risk. But, despite her good-luck ritual and her skills, the surgery doesn’t go as planned, and Sarah is shuttered.
While her mother passed away, her ghost is still very much present in Sarah’s life, and the loss of a patient only heightens that negative voice she constantly hears in her head. When this and the fact that Sarah developed a proper phobia of entering the operating theatre become too much to handle, she is forced to take a break. A friend of hers offers a temporary way out: there is this old guy, named William ‘Billy’ Caldwell, who needs someone to drive him around Atlanta for a few days. He needs to run some errands, but being of a certain age, he doesn’t trust himself behind the wheel. Would Sarah be at all interested in taking up on this offer? After all, she has nothing to lose, or do, so she accepts.
This physical journey across the city turns into a journey down memory lane: Billy is not just simply an old man with business to attend to, and all the anecdotes he tells of what he lived and went through over the years, help Sarah to put her own life in order too. It’s a refreshing and illuminating experience for Sarah, who will eventually overcome her fear of operating theatres and go back to work. But at what price?
Because, contrary to your usual romance story, there is no happy ending for this one.

While this is Ivan Scott’s first novel, written around four years ago, it will never cease to amaze me how his work is marketed as ‘romance’ when it is so much more and have nothing to do with the traditional trope ‘boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl’ (or any other gender combination).
This is a great story, that dwells heavily into reality. Many people on this planet go through experiences that make them change their mind or their life-path, that make them open their eyes and go in a different direction, but not necessarily there is a romantic experience involved, nor it has to end with ‘boy gets girl’.

And that’s the beauty of Ivan Scott’s books: they transcend the pure romance experience, leaving behind all the outdated and, honestly, annoying cliche so well loved by a certain part of the reading population. It’s fiction with a hint of romance, and accomplishes what fiction should do: digesting reality by breaking it into simple chunks, to help ‘ordinary’ people understand it and maybe even get a hint on how to solve problems they have in their own lives.

The hope is that in the future his books will get the credit they deserve, because his stories are brilliant, the prose is always clean and clear-cut, never boring nor absurd. Perhaps dialogues can sound unrealistic at times, especially when trying to portray the way British characters speak, but this is honestly the only fault I could find, and I had to look very hard.

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Self-promo 2023 (Ep. 38): Dennis Young

Bloodlines (The Original)
Her name is Julie. Sheโ€™s 16. Sheโ€™s a vampire. Julieโ€™s story began in 1944, the night she was made, and continued for 76 years. A vampire, forever 16. But also a hunter of other vampires. The Hounds are her pets, her servants, her protectors. But the Hounds are not vampires, theyโ€™re demons; because the 16 years old Julie made a deal with the devil. And now she hunts the one who made her.

Julie (The Followup)
For 76 years, Julie survived wars and social changes, societal upheavals, religious conflicts, and the 2008 economic recession. Now she faces something even more horrifying. Who is kidnapping pregnant young girls? Vampire army? Secret military research? A war ready to be launched? And why would they kidnap Julie?
How did someone from Julieโ€™s past survive all these years, after gaining โ€œlife eternalโ€ from Vincent? Where are the Hounds, Julieโ€™s life-long protectors and companions? And what in the world was Julie thinking, getting mixed up in all of this?


Dark Princess (The Spinoff)
โ€œI guess you could say I was Julieโ€™s wingman for a short while. Then we sent her home, where she probably still is. But that was a long time ago.โ€
One hundred years can pass quickly when youโ€™re a vampire. Or drag on interminably, if you have no purpose. Tara found that purpose, more than once, but only later in her vampire life did she learn the truth of what had really happened in the world.
With a deepening fear and paranoia of who to trust, and who did what to whom, her plunge into an ever-widening conspiracy reveals how ruthless and cruel the vampire world can be.
Will Taraโ€™s ever-quickening fall down the rabbit hole end with answers or madness?

Bloodlines was written as a standalone. But Julie, the main character, being the strong protagonist she is, refused to leave me alone. Since I told the story of who she was, I was compelled to tell the story of who she is, hence the second book. But in Julie’s story another character popped up and since good things come in threes, I started working on the third book. So here I am, with a collection: The Original, The Followup, and The Spinoff.
Authors sometimes think theyโ€™re in charge of stuff: they couldn’t be more wrong.

I worked a normal job all my life, from high school to my retirement in 2015. In 2005 I
began writing what likely turned out to be my Magnum Opus: The Ardwellian Chronicles epic fantasy adventure series. For thirteen years I wrote Ardwel; its peoples, places, and saga. Now, the Saga is complete and I started working on other things. Iโ€™ve read Science Fiction since I was in the third grade. I enjoy a mystery from
time to time. I donโ€™t read horror, but I can write a pretty good tale of horror. Or dystopia. And Iโ€™m a First- Generation Trekker.โ€‹
With my current collections of Epic Fantasy, Military SF, SF Adventure, and Vampire
Urban Fantasy, I’m always on the lookout for a new project or topic. I don’t like to do the same type of stories over and over, and I’m certainly not adverse to researching a new genre. After all, learning new things is a good way to give your brain a workout and put that information to use in a good story.

They can find me on my website or they can contact me on Facebook.

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Self-Promo 2023 (Ep. 37): MK Schultz

The Muse. MK Schultz, 2023.

Thirty years of quiet. Clearly, the evil that Khalon and his twin sister Carmon had seen was gone. As Khalon isolates himself in his new job as a trucker, he explores his artistic desire to become a writer. Through practice on an Ouija board, he reaches for inspiration into the darkness. The darkness reaches back, and a deal is made, but with whom? Devoting himself to his writing, Khalon ignores the horrors that begin to emerge. Ignorant of the slippery slope into darkness, he begins to do unspeakable things for his new master – The Muse.

Can Khalon sustain his part of the deal? Or will the cost become too high? As he descends further into darkness, his sister, Carmon becomes more committed than ever to saving him. A difficult choice is made that sets Carmon on a new path. The darkness reaches out once again. But this time, it has gone too far.

This is a stand alone horror novel that not only contains horrific violence but also is sure to provoke much thought in the reader. It’s a non-stop page turner that cannot be put down.

MK Schultz is a Canadian sci-fi/thriller/horror author. A father of two young adults, he lives in a wooded area on the outskirts of Ottawa, Canada. He and his wife are avid outdoor enthusiasts in all seasons. Although formally educated in architecture, his true passion is writing. Schultz is currently writing his fifth novel.

Your readers can visit my website: https://www.mkschultz.com/

I am also on Instagram and Twitter.

self-published

A Redhead In Tottenham

A redhead In Tottenham. Ivan Scott, 2023.

At the end of a successful season, New York City Football Club goalkeeper Ryan Tarkington suddenly dies. Trouble is… it wasn’t his time. After he is mistakenly brought to Heaven, it is imperative that a new body for him is available, as he cannot return into his (he was cremated). A suitable candidate is identified in London, Tottenham football club owner Chadwick Sutton, who does not enjoy a great reputation in town, as he is a ruthless, simply despicable businessman. However, this is as good as it gets, so Ryan accepts to take over his body while a new goalkeeper is found. Being the competent, focused, altruistic human being he is – even after death – Ryan will work hard to change the fortunes of Tottenham for the better and the lives of the local community and those surrounding him. The best part is, he will fall in love for the first time in his life in the process, winning the heart of goalkeeper (and redhead) Samantha Desmore. Unfortunately, God has other plans for Ryan, and in an unexpected turn of events all seems lost, forever.

Will Ryan and Samantha be able to find each other again, even if he can no longer be Chadwick Sutton? At the end of the day, Heaven does owe him a favour…

Ivan Scott offers us a well-executed, uncomplicated yet thought-provoking story that is effortlessly written. There is a lightness, a gentleness about his writing style that is very difficult to define or pinpoint: reading this book felt like witnessing someone tiptoeing around a room that is only full of silence, to leave a huge, permanent mark on a blackboard.

There is definitely a sentimental/romance element to the plot, but unlike your classic romantic novels completely centred on the paradigm ‘boy meets girl,ย boy loses girl, boy gets girl back’, there is a lot more too. It is a story about how our past does not define us – especially our failures – and even if we surely cannot change it (Ryan’s life as Ryan is over, he’s dead after all) we can reset and restart time and time again if we really want to.

Perhaps a little too sentimental and mellow at times – at least for my liking – for example when Ryan/Sutton starts supporting local community projects like some sort of saviour for whom money is no object, or his conversations on love with his butler. However, this also made me think about myself, to the point that I even started questioning if I have a heart at all and why I have become so bitter, unable to embrace the warm, fuzzy feeling this story evokes.

The answer I found, and I am sure some of our readers can relate to this too, is that sometimes we are so stuck in our lives that we forget the simplicity of the pleasure of reading a light-hearted, very funny yet meaningful story. Thank you Ivan for reminding me there’s nothing wrong with being human.

self-published

The Redhead Who Loves Hemingway

The Redhead Who Loves Hemingway. Ivan Scott, 2023.

George Callahan is a teacher in awe of Hemingway. ‘Papa’ Hemingway is his role model, his favourite writer and almost his everything. His girlfriend Bertha, on the other hand, is pretty annoyed by George talking, breathing and eating Hemingway. The only thing that would make her change her mind on the subject would be a free trip to Paris, courtesy of Papa.

But that’s not exactly what happens.

George is the finalist, along with another teacher, of a prestigious grant that the Hemingway Historical Society created to celebrate the birthday of โ€˜The Sun Also Risesโ€™. The final decision will be announced during a celebration weekend in New York. And while Bertha promised to go, she changes her mind at the last minute, forcing George to go alone.

Itโ€™s not a big deal, though, because George, being a huge fan, already has some places he absolutely wants to see, to retrace the steps of Papa and his life in New York. One of those places is Scribner, the bookshop on 5th Avenue that saw the likes of Fitzgerald and Hemingway selling their books there. For George this is the apotheosis of his existence.

While browsing in the bookshop, his path crosses with a redhead, whose name is Darcie Davenport. She works for a second hand bookshop and she is scouting for books, basket in hand. Darcie is also is a great fan of Papa, and in the spur of the moment George shows her the very reason why heโ€™s the grantโ€™s finalist: a first edition of โ€˜The Sun Also Risesโ€™. By mistake (or maybe a bearded ghost might have played his part *wink, wink*) the book falls into her basket, and by the time George realises what happened, itโ€™s too late. Darcie already brought the basket of books to her workplace, which closed for the day.

From here, an incredible adventure to find the lost book starts, consisting of: tricking the mob, getting help from a group of drag queens, pretending to be FBI agents and becoming single. Spoiler alert: George and Darcie fall in love in the end.

‘The Redhead Who Loves Hemingway’ is undoubtedly a good book: a great plot that goes forward and doesnโ€™t derail (even if it might appear surreal at times), dialogues are natural, the narrative is clear, concise and sharp. Humour and adventure blend very well, and the romantic element is intertwined with the historical one.

A nice read overall, but not your conventional romance story, where every single action brings (or should bring) the reader one step closer to having the two main characters helplessly falling in love. This is romantic fiction with a happy ending.

Having followed Ivan’s writing career over the last few years (‘A Redhead in a Blue Convertible’ was one of our lockdown reads) , we are actually pleasantly surprised by his latest book: we could really see and feel the difference, surely made of a lot of practice and sacrifice. Excellent job!

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Self-Promo 2023 (Ep. 36): Dominique Daoust

The Coveted Spellbook. Library and Archives Canada, 2023.

A new, unpredictable coven is on the payroll โ€“ and they need guidance.

A โ€œprop spellbookโ€ on an MGM studio soundstage led to Annabelle making friends and discovering they all have powers up their sleeves. How fun! Now that these gals have found each other though, itโ€™s the spellbook that vanishes. But the summer of 1932 in Los Angeles is a busy one: star-studded picnic cookouts, the Olympic Games, demanding bosses. Not to mention the murder of Scottie Merlot, the head of the props department who was helping them track down their magical prop to better understand their powers. Will they manage to solve Scottieโ€™s murder and find their spellbook in time to prevent some seriously powerful damage?

The Silver Screen Coven Series is a historical-paranormal cozy mystery series for lovers of Old Hollywood, whodunits and newbie witches. Itโ€™s perfect for fans of Lily Harper Hart and Magda Alexander.

Dominiqueย Daoust is the author of The Deadly Exclusives Trilogy and The Silver Screen Coven Series. She is a journalism graduate from Concordia University in Montreal, Canada. When not reading or writing, she likes to do yoga, drink margaritas, incessantly quote Friends and listen to rap while doing mundane household chores.ย 

Your readers can find me on Facebook, Instagram and TikTok.