Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Lancelot's Lady: World's Biggest Book Tour

Welcome to the world's largest virtual book tour in celebration of Cherish D'Angelo's debut romance "Lancelot's Lady."

I'm honoured to have Cherish visit Magic of the Muses as one of the115+ stops on her book tour.

After reading the following intriguing glimpse into the lives of Cherish's characters, remember to leave a comment and your email address. We will automatically enter you to win some fabulous prizes!

If you have never read an ebook--this would be a great one with which to start. If you don't have an e-reader, purchase Lancelot's Lady from Amazon and you can download a free Kindle ebook reader application for your computer. (hint: ebooks are generally much cheaper than print books).

Romance Author Cherish D'Angelo Talks About First Impressions
by Cherish D'Angelo

When we meet someone for the very first time, our brain processes first impression information about that person―about their appearance, their manners, their education, their friendliness, their financial status and their social standing. It isn't right or wrong; it's just the way humans are wired. Our minds process what we see and paint the most common sense picture to determine if we are going to like them.

A device in writing that I find always intriguing is "mistaken identity" or "mistaken first impression". Having one character mistake another for someone else or mistake something about them can lead to tension, confusion and even comic relief. In my contemporary romantic suspense Lancelot's Lady, my two lead characters are thrown together by what seems to be a huge mistake, and both of them make judgment calls when they first see each other. Take a peek...

“Hey, lady! What the hell are you doing on my island?”
Rhianna held her breath and clamped her eyes shut. She didn’t want to face the man whose voice simmered with fury. She was sure that he would look as ugly as he sounded.
Finally, she raised her head and forced herself to focus on the imposing man before her. She took in paint-splattered jeans that hugged well-formed thighs, a purple t-shirt covered in various spatter colors, muscular arms folded in front of an impressive chest, and thick black hair that curled at the nape of his neck.
The contours of his handsome face were chiseled as only an ethereal sculptor could, with strong lines enhanced by a dimple on his left side, the only side unmarked by streaks of paint. His nose was straight and proud, just bordering on arrogant. But it was his eyes that fascinated her. Framed by thick black lashes, they were the deepest sea-blue she had ever seen, and right at this moment, those eyes were trained on her with sniper precision.
She felt her throat constricting. Whether it was from fear or attraction, she didn’t know. But she did know one thing. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever met.
“I asked you a question!” the man demanded. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
She glared back at him. “My name is Rhianna McLeod. Who are you?”
“I’m no one important.”
Rhianna couldn’t agree more. From the looks of him, he was probably the handyman.

Yeah, Rhianna and her first impressions. All I can say is that they get her into hot water. But she isn't the only one to have a strong first impression. Check out Jonathan's...

Approaching, he surreptitiously studied her. The woman’s creased cotton pants were slightly damp at the hem. The blouse she wore, while feminine, was primly buttoned to the top. And her unmarked suitcase screamed brand new, suggesting this woman either wasn’t well-traveled or worldly, or she was and she bought a new suitcase for every trip.
Rhianna, he recalled.
She had eyes the color of jade, and right now they were flinging daggers at him.
He chuckled. She’s feisty, I’ll give her that.
Now that she was standing, he could see that her head only came as high as his chest, but she was curved in all the right places. She had long, slender legs―the kind he’d like to wrap around him.
Now where the hell did that thought come from?
“Where are you from?” he demanded.
He let out a huff. “City girl.”

Conflict and sexual tension, with a small dose of humor thrown in, is my recipe for a good romance story, and adding a mistaken identity and mistaken first impressions theme only heats things up more. You know what they say about assumptions.

Lancelot's Lady ~ A Bahamas holiday from dying billionaire JT Lance, a man with a dark secret, leads palliative nurse Rhianna McLeod to Jonathan, a man with his own troubled past, and Rhianna finds herself drawn to the handsome recluse, while unbeknownst to her, someone with a horrific plan is hunting her down.

Lancelot's Lady is available in ebook edition at KoboBooks, Amazon's Kindle Store, Smashwords and other ebook retailers. Help me celebrate by picking up a copy today and "Cherish the romance..."

You can learn more about Lancelot's Lady and Cherish D'Angelo (aka Cheryl Kaye Tardif) at and

Prizes & Giveaways: Follow Cherish from September 27 to October 10 on her Cherish the Romance Virtual Book Tour and win prizes.

Leave a comment here, with email address, to be entered into the prize draws. You're guaranteed to receive at least 1 free ebook plus you'll be entered to win a Kobo ereader.

Winners will be announced after October

Eileen Schuh,Author
Schrödinger’s Cat

Monday, September 13, 2010

You know you're a crime novelist when...

The top ten traits of a crime novelist:

10. When you don’t answer the phone because you’ve just stepped out of the shower you worry for the rest of the day that the robber who called to ensure no one was at home is going to show up on your doorstep–or in your basement.

9. When you see the flashers of a cop car behind you, you’re pretty sure they are pulling you over to ask for your help in solving a major crime

8. You are certain that at some point in your life you are going to discover human remains and it won’t be in a funeral home or a graveyard

7. You know the number for Crime Stoppers and have to resist calling in tips on what murder investigators ought to be doing. You also want to read them your list of suspects.

6. You think your novel is more exciting and more realistic than that "other author’s" True Crime books.

5. You vehemently deny that you ever wanted a ‘real’ career in law enforcement. And you lock all your doors and are in bed by 10:00 pm–unless you are in the middle of writing an exciting scene. In which case you go to bed two hours before your alarm goes off.

4. You believe you would be a good candidate for the next Commander in Chief of the RCMP and are a bit disappointed when no one calls.

3. You believe that cops are simply engaging in an grand conspiracy of denial when they say real-life policing is not nearly as exciting as it is on TV.

2. The lady crossing the street in a wheelchair looks suspicious to you.

AND...the top trait of a Crime novelist:

You think publishers are rejecting your manuscripts because they are afraid either the police or organized crime will come after them if they print your novels

Eileen Schuh
Author "Schrodinger's Cat"

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

A year ago last night...

A year ago last night I smoked my last cigarette, tossed the butt into the campfire, and went to bed. The next three months were hell. I gained 25 pounds over the first four weeks mostly because I bought 3lb bulk bags of Rocket candies. I liked unrolling them from the cellophane. I liked popping them into my mouth, one at a time, and feeling them fizzle and melt on my tongue--tiny bursts of pleasure to replace the quick fix of a cigarette.

I dutifully continued my Champix prescription--the smoking-cessation drug that stole the pleasure from nicotine. Knowing that even if I did sneak a smoke it would do nothing for me, certainly helped keep me from temptation. Although I imagined (and often dreamed) about the relaxation,the stimulation, the comfort, the pain-relief that I'd get from dragging on a cigarette, filling my lungs, and exhaling—the reality was--I'd get no comfort.

Soon, Rockets no longer comforted me, either. The first six months were a continuous battle to find a replacement for cigarettes, a desperate seeking for something to fill that empty, cold, black hole in my gut, my soul, my life.

Excercising, forums/information/support at , pacing, eating, yoga, deep-breathing, family visits, phone calls, hikes, anti-depressants, bubblebaths, wonderfully supportive friends and family.

I create a website, learned to Tweet, began blogging, wrote novels, queried agents,and, yes, signed my very first publishing contract. “Schrodinger’s Cat”, a novella to be released by Wolfsinger Publications in both print and ebook format in 2011, is the fufilment of a childhood dream.

I’ve overcome my agony. I’ve learned, grown, stretched, cried, smiled and laughed. I’ve succeeded. All without the “help” of nicotine. There is a life beyond the butt. I still struggle with weight. Struggle with cravings. Struggle with the emptiness.

The best motto for me is that I can, at any time I want to, light up again. I don't, because I choose not to. That’s an important choice that others under control of the nicotine demons, don’t have. I’m free and intend to remain so.

I donated the first $1,000 I saved to the Haitian Red Cross earthquake relief and the second $1,000 to the Pakistan flood relief effort. It’s neat that so many have benefited from my quitting. It’s incentive for me to keep quit. Someone somewhere in the future is going to need monetary help and I’d feel pretty badly if I’d already wasted those needed dollars on a senseless harmful pleasure.

Thanks, guys for your unfailing support. Share with me in celebrating a full year free from cigarettes.

To join me in supporting the Red Cross Pakistan relief effort visit my personal Red Cross fundraising page

Or visit my website where I’m offering donors a free short story. Links to various charities precede “A Nepaterian Visitation”.

My Quit Smoking diary starts here:

Eileen Schuh,Canadian writer