October 19, 2012

2012 Virtual Zombie Walk - The fascination with zombies

Thanks for stopping by as part of the 2012 Virtual Zombie Walk


    My first YA horror fiction title, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie by C.A. Verstraete, will be published next year from Intrigue Publishing.  (Image: Night of the Living Dead)

Here's the short synopsis:

 Life can suck when you're sixteen. It can suck even worse when you're not- quite- dead.

Sixteen-year-old Rebecca Herrera Hayes faces every teenager's biggest nightmares: bad skin, bad hair, and worse . . . turning into one of the living dead.

Becca's life changes forever when her cousin Spence comes back to their small Wisconsin town carrying a deadly secret—he's becoming a zombie, a fate he shares with her through an accidental scratch.

 The Z infection, however, has mutated, affecting younger persons like her, or those treated early enough, differently. Now she must cope with weird physical changes and habits no girl wants to be noticed for. Then she meets a good-looking part-Z like her and fears falling for him. After all, how can he, who shows hardly any Z symptoms, be interested in someone like her?

But time is running out... Becca needs his help as she and her cousin Carm search for their missing mothers and fight off hungry Zs.

 Most of all, she needs to find something, anything, to stop this deadly transformation before it is forever too late...

** Follow the ZOMBIE WALK links at the end of this post **

Some thoughts on the current societal fascination with zombies:

Go back as far as you can in history, and monsters have been there not only to scare us, but to provide a message or serve as an outlet for people's societal opinions or fears.

Grimms' Fairy Tales, first published in 1812,  was a kind of mirror, reflecting the cruelties of real life, according to National Geographic. (Read the unvarnished 1914 tales.) People were monsters, or did the unthinkable.


But as frightening as real life could be, even more scary was death itself.  Perhaps the age-old fears of being buried alive were conquered in the "thing" that continued to live on, although these monsters were horrors unto themselves. Yet, they offered their own form of zombieism, like Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) who brought an unholy immortality to his followers; or Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, (1818), an unholy existence formed from resurrecting the dead. (Image: Frankenstein 1931 film)

You can blame (or applaud) George Romero's film classic, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, as the inspiration for the modern zombie. Having expanded beyond the typical victim of voodoo, today's zombie continues to live/unlive in film and countless books. In recent years, the phenomenon has continued to grow and thrive, maybe being fed by our own societal woes - fears of life as it is, governmental corruption, societal breakdown - the near death, if you will, of life as we know it.

Some say they don't like zombies or monsters since life is scary enough, but in a way, how better to cope with reality than give it a fictional monster form? You at least can kill the monster and end the madness - providing you aren't bitten in the process. - Christine Verstraete - Candid Canine
2012 VIRTUAL ZOMBIE WALK STOPS

































































October 15, 2012

A surprise character came to visit in The Colors of Death



When I started writing my mystery novel, The Colors of Death, I got two surprises. The first was all the humor and romance in the piece and the second was the dog. Oh, I knew there’d be a dog. I put a dog, or two, or more, in every book I write. I was just surprised by this dog.
The basic plot of The Colors of Death is: a recently divorced young woman living in Minnesota receives a call from her uncle who lives in San Diego. He’s had a heart attack and needs her to help run his printing business until he’s well. For Callie, it’s an easy decision to make. It’s winter so she leaves the snow and cold behind and flies out to help her beloved uncle. Little does she know, there’s trouble brewing in the print shop, and her uncle neglected to tell her he had a dog, and not just any dog. He has a huge blind black Labrador retriever named, Ray Charles.
                                         
Here’s the first Chapter of The Colors of Death
                                                                           Chapter One

          Rain drizzled down the side of the cement building like tears from an aging elephant, the windows in front of me were dark, empty and lifeless. Tension sizzled though my body like lightning in a summer storm and the shop keys almost slid out of my sweaty fingers. It took me three tries before I managed to get the lock to turn. I pushed open the heavy door and immediately regretted it.
         The smell oozing out reminded me of the time I’d gone on vacation and forgotten to refrigerate some eggs. Before I could turn and escape back outside, a phone rang somewhere in the dark recesses of the shop. I followed the sound into a small office off the lobby.
         The jingling rotary phone squatted on the battered desk like a fat, black toad. I’ve always been intrigued by a ringing telephone. Who will be on the other end? Friend or foe? Good news or bad? Life…or death? There was only one way to find out, so I answered it.
          “Good morning, the Print Shack. May I help you?”
          “Let me talk to Oly,” a male voice demanded.
         “I’m sorry. Mr. Torgelson isn’t here. He’s indisposed.”
          Silence, then, “What’s that mean?”
         “He’s sick.”
         “Oh. Listen, when he gets his ass back to work, tell him to call Joe. Tell him I done tole him and I done tole him. Only white paper in the bins. Can’t have nothing but white paper to recycle.” A deep, phlegmy cough rumbled through the receiver temporarily deafening me. “Can’t have no more weird stuff in the barrel. You got that?”
          “Yes, Joe. Only white paper, no weird stuff.” With the phone captured between my ear and shoulder, I pawed around attempting to locate a pencil stub under a pile of newspapers. The only blank space I could find was the edge of the desk calendar, so I scribbled a note there. In the middle of a print shop full of paper, there should be at least one notepad. I tried hard to keep the amusement out of my voice, but I had to ask.
          “Exactly what type of funny stuff did you find in the bin, Joe?”
         “An arm, dammit. I found some poor fella’s arm in the bottom of the barrel and it ain’t a bit funny. Now I got a big drum full of white paper soaked in blood. What the hell am I gonna do with it? You tell Oly, next time I find body parts in one of the bins, I stop picking up.”

            As you can image, things just keep getting worse and worse for poor Callie Sue. Fortunately, she’s from good hearty Norwegian Minnesota stock and she not only survives, she thrives. The Colors of Death is available at: www.writewordsinc.com and  www.amazon.com.

I’ve lived with and loved dogs for over forty years and there are a few things I’ve learned along the way. I’ll share some tips with you all whenever I add to this blog. Ready? Here goes.
What’s the one indispensible thing that you should always have in your refrigerator?
Liverwurst! If you’ve ever had to give your dog a pill, this one is a no brainer. I know I used to try to put the pill in a piece of cheese. Dogs love cheese, right? Well, somehow they always managed to eat the cheese and spit out the pill. A little ball of hamburger? Same result. Maybe you tried peanut butter. Now you have a really soggy disintegrating pill, dog slobber on all your fingers, pants, shirt and floor and the silly dog is sitting there grinning at you. Well the answer is liverwurst. Shove the pill in the middle of a glob of liverwurst, put it in the palm of your hand (we don’t want to lose any fingers) offer it to the dog and watch the medicine go down.
            Even if your dogs are healthy and don’t need pills, it never hurts to keep some liverwurst on hand – just in case. You can always make a tasty sandwich with it for lunch.
            Took the dogs to the sand dunes for a run last Wednesday and Dennis, my husband, shot this video. Are they having fun, or what? Duke and Ebony playing – Tara barking.
                                    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXOeBSeiIaU&feature=youtu.be
            Till next time. Don’t forget to check out my latest book, How to Write a Mystery, now available at www.amazon.com
Carlene
www.carlenedater.com
www.themysterystartshere.com
www.Facebook.com/CarleneraeDater
www.Twitter.com/CarleneRaeDater
www.Manicreaders.com/CarleneRaeDater


October 10, 2012

The Next Big Thing Blog Hop Week 15 - what's with the zombie?

I shared some new details about my upcoming book, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie, as part of The Next Big Thing Blog Hop - Week 15.  See post at my website blog.


October 05, 2012

Meet Carlene, author of Mind Echoes... and Ebony


     First of all, I want to thank Christine for allowing me to share her blog. Two of my very favorite things in life are dogs and writing, so I’ll be able to combine the two and hopefully entertain you all a couple times a month. Do post comments or email to me – I love feedback.
     Since I published my paranormal romantic suspense novel, Mind Echoes, people often ask me where I got the idea.

At the time I wrote the book, my husband and I were living in San Diego with three HUGE Labs. A friend recommended a house call veterinarian to me, to take care of our dog’s routine health and so much easier than hauling all three to the vets. I called Dr. Alice and made an appointment. She arrived with her tray of drugs and vaccines, proceeded to grab everything with four legs and check their heart, ears, and toes – you know, all that vet stuff. Over time, Alice and I became friends and I learned a lot from her. We were having a cup of coffee one day after she’d finished with the dogs and she mentioned a women she knew who could communicate with animals. Talk about a spark!
     The thought of an animal communicator kept buzzing around in my head until the title Mind Echoes rose to the surface. I knew I had to write a novel about the subject. Yup, I wrote an entire 75,000 word novel around the title only. I’d already had a lot of vet/pet experiences and started jotting them down. At that time, we had a holistic veterinarian who came to the house and gave Clarkie acupuncture treatments. He would put needles in Clarkie and I’d sit on the floor with my dog, petting him until his 15 minute treatment was finish. During that time, Doug the vet and I had many wonderful and enlightening conversations. When he finally asked me why I needed to know all the veterinarian treatments, I broke down and told him I was writing a novel about a pet communicator. He thought it was a great idea and gave me some things to think about. Then I pumped him for information!
     I can’t honestly tell you how long it took me to write the book, because I generally work on more than one project at a time. When I finished the first draft, I gave it to Alice to read. She found some inaccuracies and other bits of information she thought I needed to put in the book. I followed some of her suggestions, edited, read and edited the manuscript some more, then sent it to my beta reader for a final go.
Finally I sent the manuscript off to a publisher and sat down to wait! I was delighted when Whiskey Creek Press bought the book and I think they did a wonderful job with the cover. I’m happy to say, the book has done well and why not? Most people love dogs and animals in general and Mind Echoes has plenty of both. I wrote the book so it could have a sequel but….never got around to writing one! If you read the book, let me know if you’d like to read more adventures from Brody, J.T. and Boomer. I might just have to write a sequel.
     When Christine introduced me, she mentioned that my husband and I share our lives with two big Labs and we were looking for another, smaller dog. Well, we found one – or she found us! We volunteer as dog walkers at the local animal shelter and like to keep tabs on the dogs that come in. Now, keep in mind, I wanted a male yellow Lab, three or four years old. Well, you know that old saying, “Life is what happens while you’re making plans” ? I saw a photo of a small black part (very small part!) Lab that the shelter folks had named Angel. She’d been found wandering loose, starving, shivering and scared to death. She’d already had one litter of pups and God only knows what happened to them! Poor little Angel was grossly underweight, had a bladder infection, ear infection and shook with fear. She was taken to the veterinarian for spaying, given medication for all her other maladies and put in foster care to help socialize her.
When I saw her photo, I fell in love! My husband and I took our other two dogs and met Angel and her foster dad away from our house. We wanted to see how our two would interact with Angel. Neither of them was thrilled, but my husband and I decided to take her for a couple of days – just to see. Of course you know what happed! She has been romping with Duke, and snuggling with Tara and now she’s our dog! Yes, we gave her a forever home and re-named her Ebony. The first night she was with us, she decided that my side of the bed was preferable to her dog bed in the bedroom so….I now have a 30 lbs. bed warmer! Yes, yes, I know – she needs to sleep on her own bed and she will…..soon.
     I’ve uploaded a photo of  Ebony – what do you think?
     Hope to hear from you all. Tell next time, give your dog a big hug and tell him you love him. 

October 02, 2012

Welcome to Duffy Brown, author of ICED CHIFFON, A Consignment Shop Mystery

Today I welcome Duffy Brown, author of the new mystery, Iced Chiffon (A Consignment Shop Mystery) which releases TODAY!

About the book:
There’s always something to gossip about in Savannah, Georgia, and Reagan Summerside always seems to be in the middle of it. She’s busy enough running her consignment shop, The Prissy Fox, with her vivacious Auntie KiKi, but now the gossip—and the sales—are about to pick up after a gruesome discovery…

Reagan’s messy divorce has left her with nothing but a run-down Victorian and a bunch of designer clothes. Strapped for cash, Reagan makes use of the two things she has left, turning the first floor of her home into a consignment shop and filling it with the remnants of her rich-wife wardrobe.

Thanks to his cunning lawyer Walker Boone, her ex got everything else, including the Lexus—not to mention a young blond cupcake. When Reagan finds the cupcake dead in the Lexus, she’s determined to beat Boone to finding the murderer. As it turns out, the gossip fiends flooding Reagan’s shop will give her a lot more than just their unwanted clothes—they have information more precious than a vintage Louis Vuitton…

(From the hostess again: I love mysteries with a touch of humor and this is a good one. And who doesn't just love digging out treasures at consignment shops?? So, I guess I'll forgive her daring to let a "cat" sneak in here! Oh, I mean, I ADORE felines... (can always use another tote bag...ha-ha)   -- Good news is - the book does feature a rescue dog! Much better. ha! * Read on for her contest and an excerpt!)



Here's Duffy's two cents:

The Dr. Watson Chronicles...

I’m a cat, all best pets are and today something terrible happened, The Servant told me…me!...to start earning my keep, that I’d better be useful as well as ornamental around this house or it was no more Fancy Feast and she’d start buying that cheap three-for-a-buck tuna crap!

Cheap tuna??? Me!! Where’s my crystal? My china? Didn’t I train her better than this? That bitch! And I’m hungry!

So here I am paws poised at the keyboard instead of snuggled on my memory foam mattress with blue silk pillow while The Servant pours over her latest WIP, Killer in Crinolines. That’s me right now, least the killer part is. Do you know what she wrote in that book and in the one before it?? A dog!! Bruce Willis! Where’s the loyalty, the love the good sense. Everyone knows the best pet is a cat in and out of book!

I figured I had The Servant pretty well trained. Open the door, shut the door, scoop the litter, new toys every week, bits of steak and brie and salmon...you get the picture. But suddenly I’m second fiddle to a dog!

I’m not taking this lying down! I’m not taking this at all. I’m getting even!! I’ll shed!

We all know the best pet of all is spelled c-a-t and not d-o-g. Dogs drool, and CATS rule and don’t you forget it.

*** So, what’ pet do you like best in your books? I know it’s a cat but if you say so maybe The Servant pounding away on her keyboard will believe me.  And if you agree with me I’ll put you in a drawing for an Iced Chiffon tote.

Keep on purring,
Dr. Watson 

* Excerpt from ICED CHIFFON:

Auntie KiKi scurried out the front door waving her hands in the air. “Where in the world have you been?” she panted, leaning in through the open car window. “When I got home, there were three people waiting on your porch ready to shop! They said they got one of those tweets.” She tsked, the universal sound of exasperated Southern women everywhere. “Whatever happened to the days when you got a nice phone call from a friend telling you what was what?” she lamented. “You have customers in your dining room looking for bargains, and I have a waltz lesson with Bernard in ten minutes.” She heaved a weary sigh.

Bernard Thayer was seventy, had no rhythm, less coordination, been Mr. Weather on Savannah TV for thirty years and he was determined to wind up on Dancing with the Stars.
KiKi thrust a wad of bills at me. “I went and got stuff from my own closet to sell to spruce up your inventory and what in the world are you doing with the Lexus?”

“I sold that fountain in the back yard to Raylene Carter for a small fortune. Now I have to deliver it as well as get the car back before Hollis knows I took it. I sort of didn’t tell him.”

“Oh, honey, Grand Theft Auto, your mamma will be so proud.”

I ignored the possibility that my scum-bucket ex would call the cops and I popped the trunk. “Take a look-see at how much room we have. Hollis stores his real estate junk in there.”

“We?”

I grabbed my purse and rummaged for keys to the shed as I headed for the back yard. “I’ve got a cart. We can haul the fountain and--”

“Sweet Jesus in heaven! Uh, Reagan, honey,” KiKi called, her finger crooked at me in a come-here gesture. “We have junk, a great big pile of it.”

“Dump it on the lawn,” I said hurrying back to the car to help unload. “If I have to hire movers I won’t make any money and I have an electric bill due and-- Holy mother of God!” My gaze landed on Cupcake, eyes wide open, and dead as Lincoln right there in Hollis’s trunk.

KiKi and I stared, neither of us breathing. KiKi finally whispered, “She doesn’t look nearly as good in the pink chiffon as you do.”

“Maybe because she has blood in her hair and is rolled up in plastic like a hot dog in a bun.” I made the sign of the cross for disrespecting the dead.

September 27, 2012

Welcome to Carlene Rae Dater, author of Mind Echoes


Today I extend a special welcome to dog lover and multi-published author Carlene Rae Dater, who will be guest posting here twice a month! Yay!


Carlene has authored a number of books including MIND ECHOES, a murder mystery featuring a veterinarian who shares a special psychic gift with her canine patients, to romantic suspense, and a writing guide, How to Write a Mystery.

Carlene could be my writing twin, though she's ahead on the book count! She also comes from a journalism background and then got into writing fiction. She began writing hard news, feature articles and humorous essays. She has sold short stories to magazines in the horror, confession, religious and humor markets, and nonfiction articles to a variety of national and local magazines.

Carlene has published nine novels, three novellas and two non-fiction books. She has two novels due out early in 2013. She teaches writing classes through Community Education at Southwestern Oregon Community College in Coos Bay. She writes full-time from her home in Coos Bay, Oregon where she lives with her husband and two huge Labrador retrievers.

Learn more at her blogs: www.carlenedater.com, www.themysterystartshere.com, and www.manicreaders.com/CarleneRaeDater, and on www.Facebook.com/CarleneraeDater.

Meet Carlene and her dogs, Tara and Duke:


Carlene says, "I have lived with dogs for 40 years. I currently share my life with two yellow Labs. We got Tara as a puppy 10 years ago. She’s pure bred – with all the problems! Hip dysplasia, blew out her ACL and had surgery to repair when she was only four. Had horrid allergies for years. Now she’s getting cataracts so I’m not sure how much she can see but….I love her to pieces.

"We got Duke a little over three years ago as a rescue. He’s about six now and just delightful. He LOVES people! Especially children. When we walk them in the park and he sees kids, he pulls at his leash and yodels! Too funny. They are both very large dogs – 110 lbs each. We’re kind of looking for another dog for Duke to play with as Tara is slowing down. I’m sure we’ll find one someday. Right now my husband and I volunteer at the animal shelter and walk dogs."

Love the dogs! Carlene will share more about her dogs, rescue work and her books in upcoming posts. For today, check out her dog-related mystery with a psychic flair, MIND ECHOES, which definitely sounds good. See the excerpt below.


About MIND ECHOES:
From the scene of a brutal murder, to the rescue of kidnapped child, the action in MIND ECHOES will keep you turning pages until the exciting, climatic end. Veterinarian Brody McAlister has communicated with animals all her life, but tells no one about her gift. San Diego Detective J.T. Flynn knows there is something unusual about the vet but he needs her help. Together they follow clues and piece together evidence until they solve both crimes . . . with a little help and a few MIND ECHOES from dogs. Genre: Mystery/Romance/Suspense Thriller



Excerpt from MIND ECHOES:

Man sick.

The telepathic words shot through Veterinarian Brody McAlister’s mind so strong they rocked her back in her seat. Pain sliced into her head, searing and hot. She took a deep calming breath, slid out of her Explorer, and slammed the door. The noise reverberated through the quiet neighborhood like a pistol shot. With shaking hands, Brody hoisted her medical case, rotated her head to ease the tension in her neck, and started toward the house. Her stomach roiled and she clenched her chattering teeth.

Ordinarily she’d be home by now, sipping a glass of wine, thinking about which frozen TV dinner to nuke, but her client, Mr. Wiser, had called and asked to stop by on her way home. He was a nice old guy, always paid in cash, and treated her like a long-lost granddaughter, so here she was.

Brody had only gone a few steps when she tripped over a garden hose snaking across her path. She stumbled to a stop and froze. Dim shadows washed over the uneven concrete walk. A hot blast of desert air shot through the trees, bringing with it the scent of night blooming jasmine and something else, a strong chemical odor from near by. Brody stood still, waiting. She nibbled at her lower lip, while her eyes probed the gloom, debating the wisdom of going on instead of returning to the safety of her Explorer. She squared her shoulders, kicked the hose out of her way, and kept going. Her tongue slipped out to moisten her dry lips.

Darkness wrapped around the front of the residence, which was unusual. Mr. Wiser’s fading eyesight must have made walking around the house a chore even in daylight. The minute the sun sank below Mission Bay, he switched on every light in the house. Now, even the porch was inky and filled with silhouettes. Brody started up the first step when she heard a snuffling noise in front of her and stopped abruptly.

Man sick. Fix?

A chill rippled down her spine. It sounded like the same animal she’d heard in her SUV. Nausea burbled in her gut. She set her medical case on the wooden step and fumbled in the pocket of her smock for the tiny flashlight she always carried. The metal tube was cold in her sweaty palm. She clicked it on. When she pointed the pale shaft of light toward the house, a dog shambled out of the shadows.

Relief washed over her body at the sight of the familiar animal. “Hey, Boomer, what’s the problem, Buddy?” The pudgy Beagle ducked his head and moved forward a few steps. Once again his mind echo pierced her senses: Man broken—help? He waddled closer to her, hesitated, then turned and disappeared into the gloom. The dog’s agitation was coming across loud and clear, and it scared the hell out of her.

Aware the front porch needed repairs, Brody focused the light in front of her. The cone of illumination slithered along the wooden floor until the beam bathed the dog. He cowered near the wall of the house, his head turned away.

“Come to Brody, Boomer. I won’t hurt you,” Brody said in a quiet, even tone of voice.

He refused to come toward her; instead he pointed his muzzle at the sky and howled. Hair stood out all over Brody’s icy trembling body. Alarm bells clanked in her mind. This wasn’t at all like the dog. The ten-year-old had always been friendly and eager to please when she’d treated him in the past.

Brody moved forward, crouched down, fumbled for a dog cookie in her pocket, and held it out to coax the animal to her. “Come here, Boomer. Where’s your daddy? Is he okay? Are you?”

Boomer shuffled a few steps in her direction, the lure of the treat too tempting to resist.

When Boomer slithered near enough he grabbed the cookie, chomped twice, and swallowed. His mournful eyes never left her face. Smelly boy hurt. Fix! The mind echo screamed into her brain. This time when he disappeared into the gloom, Brody followed.

Boomer sat next to his master’s body, one paw on the man’s still chest. Blood drenched the front of Mr. Wiser’s shirt, spilled out on the porch, and formed a halo around his head. A knife still protruded from his belly.

Fix? Boomer’s mind echo splashed into her brain.



September 26, 2012

It's Official! New book coming, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie by C.A. Verstraete




Coming in 2013!

Paranormal, sci-fi, romance, crime, YA


GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie by C.A. Verstraete

Current blurb:

Life can suck when you're sixteen. It can suck even worse when you're not- quite- dead.

Sixteen-year-old Rebecca Herrera Hayes faces every teenager's biggest nightmares: bad skin, bad hair, and worse . . . turning into one of the living dead.

Becca's life changes forever when her cousin Spence comes back to their small Wisconsin town carrying a deadly secret—he's becoming a zombie, a fate he shares with her through an accidental scratch.

The Z infection, however, has mutated, affecting younger persons like her, or those treated early enough, differently. Now she must cope with weird physical changes and habits no girl wants to be noticed for. Then she meets a good-looking part-Z like her and fears falling for him. After all, how can he, who shows hardly any Z symptoms, be interested in someone like her?

But time is running out... Becca needs his help as she and her cousin Carm search for their missing mothers and fight off hungry Zs.

Most of all, she needs to find something, anything, to stop this deadly transformation before it is forever too late...

(c) 2012 C. Verstraete/CAP

September 20, 2012

New Dog Posts Coming!

A fantastic author and dog lover will be joining us here at Candid Canine. Stay tuned for more details!

September 17, 2012

Vote for a Beautiful Mini Steampunk Doll



* Contest is over. She didn't make it to the finals but is still a winner! Thanks for voting.

Today (Monday,9/17) Anna Hardman's amazing miniature Steampunk doll is a semi-finalist vying to be on the cover of DOLLS Magazine. She could use your votes!

If you're on Facebook, go to the DOLLS Magazine page and click LIKE under Anna's doll photo and that's it!

Wouldn't it be great to see such a wonderful doll on the cover?

The doll is an original dollhouse size sculpt and is ball-jointed too! (Click her name to go to her website, click New for more details on the doll.)

September 14, 2012

Welcome to Morgan Mandel, author of the new romantic comedy, HER HANDYMAN


Today I welcome back author Morgan Mandel, who just released her fifth (!) book, the romantic comedy, HER HANDYMAN. (The novella is only .99 cents and free to Prime Members on Kindle.)

Isn't that a great title and cover?! Keep reading for a little about Morgan's writing, and love of dogs, and...

One lucky commenter will receive a choice from one of Morgan’s other e-books: the romantic comedy, Girl of My Dreams, the mystery, Two Wrongs, the romantic suspense, Killer Career, or the romantic thriller, Forever Young: Blessing or Curse, in their choice of Kindle or other e-book format. Be sure to provide your e-mail address. (See more about all Morgan's books here.



About the Book:
A novella length romantic comedy, with a dash of the serious. Longer than a short story, shorter than a full-length novel - just the right size for a busy reader!

Throw a crazy canine, a handyman, and an artist together and you've got mayhem!

Who'd guess it's Jake, the handyman, who needs rescuing when he answers a call by the distraught artist, Zoe, to stop a toilet flood begun by her crazy canine, FuFu?

Jake's engaged to a sexy, perfect woman, and she's even a great cook! There's no room in his life for a quirky, rich artist, who eats raw vegetables and probably can't even boil an egg -- or is there? Are Jake's perfect plans about to be disrupted?


Heeere's Morgan!

Q: Why did you decide to use a dog in Her Handyman?
A: I love dogs. I’ve owned various dogs since I’ve been married, which is going on 40 years. Each one owns a special place in my heart. I remember them all with love. The present dog who owns me is Rascal. (pictured below)



Q: Is this the first time you’ve used a dog in a story?
A: Actually, a dog plays a very minor role in my romantic suspense,KILLER CAREER; but in HER HANDYMAN, the Chinese Crested FuFu plays a pivotal part of the plot. Without her, there would be no story.

Q: Why did you pick this breed?
A: I’ve always been fascinated by the uniqueness of the Chinese Crested breed. They often win ugliest dog contests, yet there’s something endearing about their unusual looks.

Q: What does your choice of dog breed bring to the story?
A: I aimed at an offbeat, humorous romance, with a slight touch of the serious, and FuFu seemed a perfect addition to the mix. She’s small, but mighty. How Jake and Zoe respond to her illustrates their true nature.

Q: What’s the key to writing romantic comedy?
A: I don’t know if there’s any special key. For example, I don’t always laugh at many of the jokes my husband thinks are hilarious. He loves The Three Stooges, and to me they’re silly. In HER HANDYMAN, I show the ways the hero and heroine are distinctly different, and how it’s difficult for them to relate. I fashioned their inner and spoken dialogue in a humorous vein, threw in some plot twists, and I must confess, resorted to a huge pratfall.


Excerpt of HER HANDYMAN from Chapter One:

When he stepped out, a finely grained walnut door cracked open to reveal a thin, waif-like blonde with long, flyaway hair, from which a purple orchid dangled on one side. A peace sign hung from her neckband.

The waif’s clothes consisted of a gauzy, billowy white blouse, multi-colored gypsy skirt, and high furry sandals. He barely caught the mood ring on her finger, before his eyes were drawn to the wiggly yapping critter in her arms. What the hell was that?

Her eyes grew wide at sight of him. She clutched the weird animal tightly as if for protection. The critter growled and flashed dagger looks at Jake.

Jake restrained a grin. He’d been right about his client, but it seemed she’d been way off about him. Her slight stature compared to his six-two, well-muscled one had to put her off.

He’d seen this reaction before. For some reason, first-time clients envisioned an old guy, like the Maytag repairman. Maybe it was his deep voice.

His lips twitched. “Jake Witkowski at your service. You can call me Jake. You have a bad toilet, Miss?”

“Yes, water’s leaking everywhere. It’s awful.”

“Well, then, I better take a look.”

Her eyebrows puckered. Did she think he was referring to her and not the bathroom? He could enlighten her that he preferred brunettes with more meat on their bones, like his Angelina, but that would be mean. Also, bad for business.


About the Author:
Morgan Mandel lives in a Chicago suburb with her husband, commonly referred to as Good Paul, and their lovable pit bull, Rascal. She’s not ashamed to admit her vices: chocolate, ice cream, pizza, and a great love of slot machines. Her favorite pastimes are reading, writing, going to garage and rummage sales, attending festivals, and watching romances and mysteries on TV and DVDs.

Her Handyman is Morgan's fifth book. She's also a contributor to. The Corner Cafe: A Tasty Collection of Short Stories (BBT Cafe Authors)


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