Monday, December 23, 2013

Merry Christmas--Our Greatest Need

Love came down at Christmas
Image taken at Walt Disney World by J.Q. Rose
Our Greatest Need

If our greatest need had been information, God would have sent us an educator.
If our greatest need had been technology, God would have sent us a scientist.
If our greatest need had been money, God would have sent us an economist.
If our greatest need had been pleasure, God would have sent us an entertainer.
But our greatest need was forgiveness and acceptance, so God sent us a Savior.
--Author Unknown

Wishing you all the hope, peace, love, and joy of this Christmas season!

Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 20, 2013

A Bit of Irish Music from Pat McDermott's The Rosewood Whistle

Welcome Pat McDermott, author of delightful, warm and witty Irish tales. 
The Rosewood Whistle is a true romance and takes place in such a romantic setting, Ireland. I'm sure you will fall in love with this story just as I did.--J.Q. Rose


I’m delighted to be visiting your beautiful, rosy blog again, J.Q. Thanks so much for having me back! Western Ireland is the setting for my latest release, an adult contemporary romance called  The Rosewood Whistle, a tribute of sorts to Ireland's traditional music. The story is told through the budding relationship of a man and woman given a second chance at love.

I had fun with this one. Each chapter title contains a phrase from an old Irish song I learned as a kid growing up on Mission Hill, an Irish section of Boston.

Like many immigrants, the Irish who emigrated to America helped keep their homeland alive through music. During the 1940s, 50s, and 60s, Irish records grew amazingly popular, especially in New York and Boston. My family wasn’t the only one playing those magical little 45s until they wore out. Almost every flat in my neighborhood’s three-decker homes had music blasting from open windows.



Irish music has it all: ghosts and romance, rebellions and outlaws, drinking and sea songs, death, emigration, and lullabies. No one needs to know the songs (or even be Irish) to enjoy The Rosewood Whistle, though it’s fun if you do. And no worries if you can't guess which tunes I used. I added a list the end of the book. So stop by the pub in the Excerpt below!


# # # # 

Back of the Book:
Surrounded by Ireland’s music and myths, a widowed American writer meets a tour guide leery of love…

On her own at the end of a long and difficult marriage, Gemma Pentrandolfo still hears the critical voice of her husband taunting her from his grave. To foster her independence, she schedules a summer vacation in County Mayo intending to write her first book, and she’s counting on Ireland for inspiration. An idea presents itself when she tours Achill Island with a silver-tongued tour guide whose good looks prompt her to write more than her high-minded novel: she transcribes her years of longing in a steamy fantasy no one is meant to see.

Years have passed since an accident claimed the self-absorbed wife who scorned Ben Connigan and his music. Since then, the former tin whistle ace has avoided marriage, though he never lacked for female companionship before he traded his high-tech career for the slow-paced life of a hometown tour guide. Ben has accepted the end of his run of discreet affairs, until he takes Gemma touring. Her passion for Ireland impresses him. Her love of Irish music soon compels him to dust off his whistles. Knowing she’ll leave at the end of the summer, he sees no harm in keeping her company—until he dares to dream of spending the rest of his life with her.

But he knows it can’t be, not while the ghosts of their partners still haunt them. Not unless the music and myths of Ireland can help them find their way…

# # # #
Excerpt:
Scully tapped his arm. "Go buy her a drink, Ben."

"What?"

"You're staring at her like she's one of them feckin' U F of Os."

"She's windin' your clock, Big Ben," said Tom. "Be said and led by me: paddle the wave when it comes along. Buy the woman a bloody drink."

A vigorous nod bespoke Scully's agreement. "At least give her your business card. She's a Yank. Probably wants to see the sights. Trace her roots and all that shite."

Ben raised a hand. "Back off. I need no advice from a pair of henpecked husbands wearing their wedding rings through their noses."

Undaunted, Scully and Tom tilted their drinks to their smirking mouths. The gleam in their eyes dared Ben to act. Despite their jowls and glasses, they might have been fifteen again.

He wasn't about to reveal the incident with the hose to these two. They didn't have to know he only meant to apologize, not initiate farcical courtship rituals.

So why did a pendulum swing in his chest, its speed increasing with every stroke?

Something to do with her drenched blouse and pants. Would she remember him? Accuse him and his garden hose of lewd behavior? He swallowed a mouthful of beer and wiped his hand across his lips. The pendulum slowed. Aware of the eyes digging into his back, he kicked himself out of his chair and swaggered to her table.

She read her menu through little gold glasses. Tiny laugh lines enhanced her eyes and her curving lips. No lipstick. Ben liked that. She held the one-page card in her long slender fingers. No nail polish.

No paint nor powder, no none at all…

And no wedding ring. Scully was right about that at least.

She frowned at the menu as if she couldn't decide what to order. He thought he might suggest the soup, or perhaps the fish and chips, or maybe…

He'd reached the chair where she'd laid her coat. She sensed him there, for she looked up. Eyes as brown as Belgian chocolate widened in surprise. Her mouth fell open; her cheeks turned crimson. No doubt about it, she knew him. Now what?

Fortune favors the bold, and all. Exploiting her befuddlement, he pounced. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Ben Connigan. Might I sit?"

Her eyes returned to their normal size; the red in her cheeks softened to a tea rose hue. She slipped off her glasses and smiled at him, and his heart flopped like a fresh-caught trout.
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The Rosewood Whistle is available on Kindle and in paperback from Amazon U.S. and Amazon U.K
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About Pat:

Boston, Massachusetts native Pat McDermott writes romantic action/adventure stories set in an Ireland that might have been. Glancing Through the Glimmer and its sequel, Autumn Glimmer, are young adult paranormal adventures featuring Ireland’s mischievous fairies. Both books are “prequels” to her popular Band of Roses Trilogy: A Band of Roses, Fiery Roses, and Salty Roses. The Rosewood Whistle is her first contemporary romance.

Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Her favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives and writes in New Hampshire, USA.

Connect online with Pat:





Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Holiday Short Story--The Good Neighbors--Excerpt and Giveaway!

Delightful holiday short story

Jim and Gloria Hart, snowbirds from Michigan, always help out the neighbors in their Florida retirement community when asked. Who knew being good could turn out to be so bad?
This delightful holiday short story will tickle your funny bone and question the idea of being good during the warmth and good cheer of the holiday season.

Review from Amazon
4.0 out of 5 stars Delightful short storyDecember 7, 2012
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: The Good Neighbors (Kindle Edition)
I wouldn't have believed that a retirement community in Florida would be a fascinating setting, with intriguing and fun characters. But J.Q. Rose's short story delivers exactly that--I also believe it is an excellent taste of her mystery novel, Sunshine Boulevard, with the same setting and characters, and if so, I'm certainly off to read Sunshine Boulevard! More, please.

Excerpt:
A booming megaphone voice jarred the unsuspecting couple. “This is the police. Come out of the shed, Mr. and Mrs. Hart. Come out now with your hands up.”
Jim dropped his screwdriver and jumped away from the door. Gloria ran over to cling to him. What in the world is happening?
“Jim?” Tears welled up in Gloria’s eyes. Her heart felt as if it were going to pound out of her chest.
The front door of the shed ripped open and two policemen stood aiming their weapons at the frightened couple. At the same time two armed policemen wielding their guns burst through the already broken back door.
“Put your hands up and walk this way,” one policeman demanded. Gloria and Jim’s arms shot up in the air, and they started moving quickly toward the carport and out into the driveway.
“Officer, what is it? What’s happening?”
“Please don’t talk now, Mrs. Hart.”
Escorted by the policemen, Gloria shuffled out onto the driveway holding her hands high above her head. She saw a line of police cars up and down her street. I don’t see our first responders or firemen among them, so I guess there is no emergency. Against the backdrop of outdoor Christmas decorations, curious neighbors stood in driveways and yards up and down the block.
“Just co-operate fully with us. Okay, lay face down on the grass.” He motioned to the side yard.
“But, Officer, ….”
“Face down now, Mrs. Hart.” Gloria saw one of the policemen train his rifle on her, so she dropped to the grass immediately next to the candy canes lining the driveway and spread-eagled on the lawn.
# # # #
What is your favorite Christmas story or movie? Leave a comment to win a free PDF copy of The Good Neighbors. 
If you can't wait until Friday to find out if you won, you can buy The Good Neighbors short story for 99 cents at amazon All royalties from the sale of the story will support local food pantries. 


Sunday, December 15, 2013

T'is the Season for Forgiveness, Excerpt, Plus This Week

Disney Christmas Lantern Photo by J.Q. Rose
After I finished the last sentence of my mystery, Coda to Murder, and added the final period, I sat back and looked at the page. At that moment I realized I had told a story about forgiveness. I found it odd that I had written about the one subject that is so difficult for me to include in my life. Forgiveness is not the natural human inclination.

It’s easy to carry a grudge within our hardened hearts. Instead of trying to make the horrible burden go away, we seem to feed it and make it grow into hatred that seethes throughout our pores and colors our world black with anger and resentment. 

Withholding forgiveness to someone who hurts us only gives us a false sense of power and control over that person. Not accepting forgiveness from someone who is truly sorry adds bitterness to the situation and further damages the relationship.

Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy, love, and peace. Too often, it turns into a season of hurt and resentment. Memories of those who wronged us bubble up through the wrapping paper and Christmas ornaments. Instead of the Norman Rockwell type family get-togethers, snide remarks, facial expressions, and body language can turn the gathering into a contentious event.

It takes a strong person to be the first to try and reach out and forgive, and a strong person to accept forgiveness. When that happens, the heart soars free of the burden of all the meanness.

Forgiveness isn’t easy. It may take a long time to get a different perspective on the hurt and anguish, but in the end we can try and do the best we can to resolve a relationship and relieve heartache for all parties involved. 

The Christmas season is the time of year when more people are open to giving and receiving forgiveness. If your heart is in despair, this is the moment to take time to make things right and re-connect with the person for all the right reasons. 

# # # #
My main character, Pastor Christine Hobbs, preaches about God’s forgiveness in all things. Even if we don’t feel we are worthy of forgiveness, God’s love and grace is available. All we need to do is sincerely ask.

Christine tries to practice forgiveness in her own life, but a minister is not perfect. Just when she thinks she has come to terms with her husband’s cheating, lying, and eventual abandonment, she discovers she has not forgiven him....yet. 
# # # #

This excerpt is from Coda to Murder when Christine receives a phone call from her ex which starts her stomach churning and her blood boiling.

Pastor Christine Hobbs never imagined 
she would be caring
 for a flock that includes 
a pig, a kangaroo, and a murderer.
“So how are you getting along there with your new church position?” Brad's voice moderated. “You may not believe it, but I do think of you and wonder how you are.”
Christine's eyes teared up. He had no idea how much she missed him and hated him at the same time.
“I’m fine. How’re you?”
“Well, as soon as I get this apartment cleaned up, I’ll be happy. What a job. I never knew moving would be so difficult.”
“You’re moving? Where are you going?” She bit her lip. She hated to sound as if she were the least bit interested in his life.
“Nadia and I found a house.” He delivered it like a hot poker through her heart.
He met Nadia while he was away on a lengthy sales trip. She shook her head to erase the dark thoughts in her mind.
“We decided it was such a good deal, we couldn’t pass it up. I’ll send you my new address. It’s a ranch in a subdivision near that greasy spoon cafe we liked to go to. Do you remember that place? Jake’s.” His remarks were so off-handed.
“Oh, yeah.” Christine remembered Jake’s like it was yesterday.
Jake’s was the place where she told Brad she was pregnant with their baby. She remembered the joy in his face and excitement they felt about beginning their family.
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to blot out the memory of the night she lost her baby girl in the emergency room. She was all by herself because Brad was away on a business trip. He never understood her feeling of loss, so he tried to act like it never happened. The baby wasn’t real to him as she was to her.
She realized she wasn’t listening to a word he’d spoken, so when Brad stopped talking she said, “Okay. Thanks. Gotta go. Just mail them to the church. Good-bye.” The lump in her throat prevented her from continuing the phone conversation.
Still clutching the phone in her hand, the memories of that Saturday morning conversation over two years ago surfaced in her mind. She and Brad were sitting at the kitchen table. Christine looked forward to spending time with her husband. Having a weekend together was unusual.
“So what are your plans for this weekend? Do you want to take a drive or go to a movie?” she asked as she picked up the cereal box.
Setting his coffee mug on the kitchen table, he looked directly into her eyes.
“I won’t be here this weekend.”
She stopped pouring the sugary flakes of cereal into the bowl. “Oh, really?” She turned to face her beloved husband. “I thought we could do something fun this weekend. We have so little time together anymore.”
“I’m moving out today.” He sat motionless in the chair.
“What? What did you say?” She leaned in closer toward Brad, the cereal box clenched in her hand.
“I’m leaving. I’m moving in with a friend. I want out of this marriage.” He grabbed the cup of coffee and pulled it toward him.
She clutched her stomach to stop the churning inside. Was she dreaming? This couldn’t be real. She tried to read his face, but he kept his eyes on his coffee mug.
She slammed the box of cereal down on the table and curled her hands into tight fists. With each sentence she spoke, her fists hit the table. “Wait a minute. Bradley, wait a minute. What’s happening? What are you saying?”
He glanced up furtively. Finally locking onto her eyes, he said, “I’m in love with another woman. It’s over for us.” He scooted back the kitchen chair, turned his back to her, and walked to their bedroom. She remembered sitting at the table, shell-shocked, silent, and helpless.
Blinking back to reality, Christine threw the cell phone on the end table and covered her face with her hands. A torrent of tears puddled in her palms. Christine heard heartbreaking cries then realized the sounds came from her, from the depths of her soul. The phone conversation stirred up all the memories and hurt she thought she had buried. Although she had tried, she realized now she hadn’t forgiven him, nor could she ever forget.
No man would ever again win her heart then crush it.

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Now available at
bn.com and major online booksellers.




This Week:

Red poinsettia, traditional Christmas Flower Photo by J.Q. Rose
Sunday, December 15 (Today)--Join me at sweet romance author Roseanne Dowell's blog for a discussion on Christmas traditions. Share yours with us.



Friday, December 20--Pat McDermott brings the lovely sounds of Irish music to the J. Q. Rose blog and discusses her new romance, The Rosewood Whistle. Find out more about it at Pat’s Web Site.






Thursday, December 12, 2013

Character Blog: Bobby's Hobby by Bobby from The Sounds of Sirens

This past summer and fall I had the pleasure of hosting authors and their hobbies. Today I'm excited to host Bobby who is featured in The Sound of Sirens by former hobby guests, the brother-sister writing team of Heather Fraser Brainerd and David Fraser. 
Bobby, thanks so much for taking time to tell us about your hobby.

Second book in the Jose Picada, P.I. series
Bobby’s Hobby by Heather Fraser Brainerd and David Fraser
As part of our blog tour for The Sound of Sirens, we thought it would be fun to let one of our characters write a guest post. Without further ado, meet Bobby Newman.
* * * *
Cosplay by Bobby Newman
This is the place where people talk about their hobbies, right? That’s what Heather and Dave told me. Well, I have a hobby I'd like to talk about. Let me tell you how it all began.
So much of what I am today began in a movie theater. I wish I knew the date, as it was a day that changed me forever. February of 1997 is as close as I can narrow it down. My brother Maks took me to see the Special Edition release of Star Wars: A New Hope. I'd seen the movie countless times on VHS. Seeing it on the big screen with all the new effects just blew me away. Ever since then, I've been a proud and devoted resident of a town called Nerdville. As a kid, my citizenship was limited to reading books, watching movies, and playing games. When it was time to go to college, I looked for someplace with a top art program. I wanted to be the one creating the books, movies, and games. My dad, however, would only pay for my school if I went to his alma mater. Luckily, they had a pretty good program.
Now here we are, a few years later. I have yet to create the great fantasy game, or make the great science fiction movie, or, thankfully, write the great teen paranormal romance novel. I'm okay with all that. You see, I'm part of a small community here in Rochester that engages in what's called Cosplay. To the uninitiated, this is a portmanteau of "costume" and "play." It's exactly what it sounds like. Playing in costume. The general concept is that you make (or buy if you have to, but making your own is way cooler) costumes of your favorite characters from movies, television, video games, or comic books. Common sense says that you should only wear this costume in the privacy of your own home with the shades drawn. I mean, who wants to be seen in public dressed as Mr. Spock or Zombie George Washington? It turns out that there are a lot of people who want exactly that. The typical gathering place is at sci-fi/fantasy conventions, such as Rochester's annual RocCon. Not everyone dresses in costume, but many do. Nowhere else on Earth (or any other planet, for that matter) can you find The Doctor walking around with Pinkie Pie Pony. You can usually get a picture with them if you want. Most people are pretty cool about that. There's almost always a contest, where you can win prizes and awards in a number of different categories.
So where do I fit in? Well, I use my art school education to custom make my costumes. It's part sculpture and part engineering. I've even picked up manly skills like how to use a sewing machine. Sometimes, if you need a hat that looks half watermelon and half cat, you're going to have to make it yourself. There's no way you'll find that in a store.
I normally just wear a costume once. There are just too many cool characters to wear the same things over and over. My very first Cosplay was of an original character. I play Swordz N Spellz. This is an online computer fantasy game. To those who haven't heard of it, it's a MMORG. That's a Massive Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game. SNS takes place in the fictional realm of Flowerpox, whose citizens include elves, dwarves, humans, and sentient fungi. My character, a level 55 druid named Grimdavore Habberman the Exceedingly Superlative, is member of the guild Raymetheus's Rockers. Sorry, I seem to be getting sidetracked. I could talk about SNS all day. What I'm trying to say is that my first Cosplay was Grimdavore, complete with his journeyman druid's robe, which was made by modifying a store-bought bathrobe by adding the hood from an old sweatshirt, weathering it to look all beat up, dying it just the right shade of brown, and finally attaching his enchanting runes, which were cut from aluminum foil. It looked okay, but not perfect. I've learned to sew since then. Maybe someday I'll make another one from scratch.
Over the years, I've done Dr. Harkner from Red Sun Setting, Big Bertie from John Patrick, Cintius Pullus from Rome in a Day, John-John from The Toe Jammers, Gravy Boat from Puff Puff Pony, Judicious B.B. from What Would Frosty Do?, Connor from When Kai Was Sick, the Grim Sleeper from Alpacalypse, and Carl Remington from 20,000 Feet and Climbing. Each costume presents its own unique set of challenges and I make sure to try some new technique each time so that I'm constantly growing, constantly learning.
I'm currently in the early stages of assembling the pieces for Sergeant Horace "The Horse" Van Winkle from the comic book My Kingdom. Much of the clothing is off-the-rack, which I usually try to avoid. But if you can hit the thrift shops and find just the right stuff you need, it can save a lot of time and effort, and I'm going to need all the time I can spare for this one. I plan on making all of Horace's cybernetic augmentations, complete with flickering electronic lights. And if I can figure out a way to make his potato-throwing bazooka really throw potatoes, I might have a shot at winning a prize.


So, yeah. That’s me. Dungeon-raiding, cosplaying King of Nerdville. Or at least the mayor.
* * * *
Find out more about Bobby in The Sound of Sirens.
Thanksgiving dinner with the family can be murder.
Especially when someone is actually trying to kill you.
Available at:
Connect with Heather and David:


Monday, December 9, 2013

Nelson Mandela and Revolutionary Patience Plus This Week

Contributed by Salvatore Vuono from free digital photos.com
I am in awe of Nelson Mandela and his ability to change the world. He didn't rely on revenge and war, but rather he believed in peaceful negotiations toward those who made his life miserable by spending 27 years in prison, not just prison, but solitary confinement. Instead of dwelling on this horrible punishment and those who persecuted him while sitting alone all those years, he made plans to bring peace to his country. 

Pastor Lauie Haller believes he and other leaders such as Ghandi and Martin Luther King have used the wisdom of revolutionary patience ring about change. Rev. Haller writes about Dorothee Soelle who was a German feminist liberation theologian. She spent six months a year between 1975 and 1987 as a professor of systematic theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City. In the 1980’s Soelle coined the term “revolutionary patience” in a book by the same title. 

Haller explains "it is a complex virtue that holds in tension a sense of urgency in addressing the problems of this world, at the same time persevering and practicing resilience in the face of setbacks, failure, and disappointment." Patience is a difficult virtue to develop in our hearts. And when something as big as peace for our country is on the line, we want to have it as quickly as possible. So the revolutionary part in the practice of revolutionary patience is to keep the goal in mind and keep steadily working toward achieving the outcome no matter if there are setbacks. It's like putting one foot in front of another when climbing a mountain. You may stumble or even fall down the side, but keep going and you'll reach the top.

In this Christmas season, Nelson Mandela's life embodies the precepts of this season--hope, peace, joy, and love. Now as we honor him and respect his method of achieving peace between the peoples in his country, let us go forward with this mindset to bring hope, peace, joy, and love to our world.


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This Week:



Thursday, December 12--Paranormal mystery from Heather Fraser Brainerd and David Fraser. The character from The Sound of Sirens, Bobby, pays a visit to the J.Q. Rose blog. You will discover Bobby's hobby, a new one to me.

Sunday, December 15--I'm a guest at Roseanne Dowell's blog. Authors are sharing Christmas traditions all this month. Come on over to find out about our family tradition.




Friday, December 6, 2013

Spotlight on New Christmas Story Released Today: The Unwanted Christmas Guest by Penny Estelle

Welcome, Penny Estelle to the J.Q. Rose blog!  
Congratulations on your release today of your first Christmas story. The Unwanted Christmas Guest is a contemporary romance. Can't wait to hear all about it!

A contemporary romance just in time for Christmas
I can’t tell you how excited I am that my very first ever Christmas story is being released today.  The Unwanted Christmas Guest is a story about Elizabeth McMurphy, an up and coming high powered attorney, who is after vengeance.  Her sights are set on one of the richest and most powerful families in Colorado. Steve York is an obnoxious reporter that thinks the ice queen has gone too far and does all he can to get under her skin.
When one of the worst blizzards in history, hits Colorado and leaves a hurt Steve York, stranded with Elizabeth in a mountain cabin, she must decide to either take care of him, or throw him out to fend for himself.
 # # # # 
Excerpt
“What’s going on here? Where the hell are my pants?”
      Elizabeth practically jumped out of her skin. Steve stood in the bedroom doorway, wearing only some tight fitting pink sweats.
“I found you after your car went nose to nose with a tree.” She crossed her arms. “The question is, what were you doing up here in a snowstorm? Were you coming up here to spy on me?”
      “Jesus, my head hurts.” Steve groaned and sat at the kitchen table. “And don’t flatter yourself.” He brought up his hands to rub his eyes and push on his temples. He started to say something when a giggle and a round of undistinguishable sounds caught his attention. Steve stared at the little girl, a whisper of a smile on his pale face. “You have a daughter?”
      She chose to ignore the question. “Again, Mr. York, you were headed…where?”
      “I was going to see some friends in Granby, then on to Steamboat to spend the holidays with my family.”
      “You figured on taking a short cut on Badger Springs Road?”
      “Basically,” he muttered. “I had a phone in my pants pocket…” Steve looked down at the pink sweats. “Yours, I presume?” At her nod, he asked with a smirk, “And you’re the one that took my clothes off?”
      “Junior, my neighbor.”
      “If you’ll allow me to use your phone, I’ll call Triple A and get myself and my car out of your life.” He reached over to Katy and she latched onto his finger, the brightest smile ever illuminating her sweet face.
Elizabeth quickly picked her up, as if he would contaminate her by his touch.  “Phones are out.”
      “Internet?”
      “Nope.”
      “How the hell do you live here?” he asked irritably.
* * *

Please find The Unwanted Christmas Guest and my other stories at my  MuseItUp Publishing author page.


Feel free to stop by and check out my other stories and/or leave me a message.  I love visitors!







Wednesday, December 4, 2013

IWSG Discussion: The Ugly Side of the Publishing Industry

It's the first Wednesday of the month so it must be time for a post from all the folks in the Insecure Writers Support Group. What is IWSG?

Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

After visiting here, please take time to hop over to other blogs and hear their voices. You can find a list at Alex's IWSG page 

Alex suggests you may want to check out a cool contest with some awesome prizes announced at the IWSG Website on Wednesday, so don’t miss it!  

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The Ugly Side of the Publishing Industry by J.Q. Rose
When you were a kid, did you ever have someone steal or copy your homework and claim it as his own? Grrrrrrrrrr....That's what happened to my e-books. Websites took the files for my e-books and placed them for sale on their sites. With that sale, neither my publisher or I get a cut out of the proceeds. That is known as a pirate website. Believe me I would like to tie that pirate to the mainsail and  lash him a few hundred times for stealing my work. 

Not only am I angry about the thievery, but I am also frustrated. My only recourse is to threaten the culprits with a letter to cease and desist, remove the file from the site, or I will take legal action. Oh, right, I doubt I could find the pirate to send him any court summons, let alone afford to pay a lawyer to take the case. The website will probably be gone soon enough. Unfortunately these sites can be set up to only take customer's credit card info and never even deliver the e-book! 

When I was a blogging newbie, I was thrilled to have guests post about their books on my site. I happily agreed to host a woman with a new book release. Little did I know, she had plagiarized the entire book only changing the names of the characters. Did I ever feel like an idiot when the first person left a comment to let me know the woman had stolen one of her author friend's books. My jaw dropped. People actually do that? I couldn't believe the wickedness had intruded into my little corner of the blogosphere. I had so many views on that post before I finally concluded, after much research, that I had been played for a fool. You can bet I deleted that post and slunk off to sulk for several days. Needless to say, the writer never answered any emails I sent her. 

I don't understand what makes people take the low road. And both of these instances are pretty low. What satisfaction can they possibly garner by taking advantage of unsuspecting folks whether writers or readers? I cannot imagine the amount of money that can be made is worth the effort. However, there is a low risk the pirates will ever be caught.

The upside of being in this industry far outweighs the downside listed here. New friends from all over the world, the support from fellow authors, the chance to tell my stories and read others are just a few of the perks. But I am not such a Pollyanna any longer. And I hate losing that side of me.

# # # #

Thank you for stopping by today. Have you had pirates take your treasure too? How did you resolve the problem or did you? 






Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Humorous Holiday Short Story, The Good Neighbors by J.Q. Rose

T'is the season! 
Snowbirds Jim and Gloria Hart, main characters in my mystery novella, Sunshine Boulevard, have a Christmas story for you.  The action takes place in Florida's Citrus Ridge Senior Retirement Resort. Action in a retirement resort? Read this fun story, just right for a lunch break, and find out.

Humorous holiday short story set in Florida

Jim and Gloria Hart, snowbirds from Michigan, always help out the neighbors in their Florida retirement community when asked. Who knew being good could turn out to be so bad?

This delightful holiday short story will tickle your funny bone and question the idea of being good during the warmth and good cheer of the holiday season.

Here's what readers are saying:

 I disturbed the peace at Wendy's because I was laughing so hard reading this while I had lunch today. It's another great waiting room read--the kind of short-story you can devour along with a quick burger or while waiting to see the doctor. But try not to laugh too loudly unless you want to tell people what you're reading. On second thought, go ahead. Laugh out loud. Don't be afraid to let people know how much you're enjoying Ms. Rose's writing. Isn't a good hearty laugh in the middle of Wendy's a great recommendation for a book? 
5 stars Rochelle Weber

I wouldn't have believed that a retirement community in Florida would be a fascinating setting, with intriguing and fun characters. But J.Q. Rose's short story delivers exactly that--I also believe it is an excellent taste of her mystery novel, Sunshine Boulevard, with the same setting and characters, and if so, I'm certainly off to read Sunshine Boulevard! More, please. 4 stars Conda Douglas

Buy The Good Neighbors short story now for 99 cents at amazon.com 
All royalties from the sale of the story support local food pantries. 


Mysterious deaths upset the Florida retirement community interfering with their seasonal activities and turning up more than dead bodies.

Reviews for Sunshine Boulevard:

What a page turner and full of surprises! I couldn't put this book down.
 Roseanne Dowell, author Stranger on the Shore

This story blends humor with mystery and death very cleverly, making it a book I had to keep reading. Even after I found out the answer to the above question, I was still hooked and had to read on to find out what happened next.  Sue Perkins,  Sue’s Book Reviews

Buy Links for Sunshine Boulevard

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