Now, this sounds like a simple task, right? I mean, it’s ice cream.
Tag: sample
Monday Blog: Is Valentine a Feminist Series?
Hello! Welcome back! I missed you over the weekend (really, I did!) It’s Monday, so it’s time for the Monday Blog. It’s Valentine month, so I have good news, and great news! Plus, I’m going to answer one of my reader’s questions: Is Valentine a feminist series?
Valentine 1 and 2 Promotion Results
The first two books in the Valentine series were free for Kindle and the Kindle App, from Feb 5th through the 9th. The results: seven of you downloaded books! Two of you emailed me to say how much you enjoyed the books! Thank you! I’m going to run promotions like this throughout the rest of the year, so you may want to check the website often. And now for the better news…
Valentine 3 Promotion
You’ve read books 1 and 2, so you may as well read 3, right? Valentine 3: Queen of Hearts, will be FREE, for Kindle and the Kindle App, from Feb 12th through 14th (starting TODAY!) So, if you have the Kindle or the Kindle App, you can download a free copy! How cool is that?
Valentine 3 is available here: https://www.amazon.com/Valentine-Hearts-Nicole-E-Woolaston-ebook/dp/B01MXXYCEC/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1518289553&sr=8-1
Is Valentine a Feminist Series?
I never really thought of myself as a feminist, or a feminist writer, for that matter. I simply write what I like. My writing began with my love of books, and my difficulty finding books with subjects I wanted to read about, over time. But I suppose I can call myself a feminist writer: most of my characters are female, and most of those females are not “damsels in distress”.
Now, for the question: Is Valentine a feminist series? The answer: yes. Sure it is. Was that my intention? No. But that’s the way it worked out. Let’s consider the definition of the word feminist: person who supports feminism. Well, that didn’t help, did it? Let’s consider the definition of feminism instead: the advocacy of women’s rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes. That’s much better. Think about the “heroes” we see in movies and on television. There have always been plenty of “tough guys” around. The renegade cop with a chip on his shoulder. The butt-kicking karate expert. There are plenty of strong male characters, but now, more strong female characters are emerging. Val Entienne is a female, but she has some masculine traits: she carries a pair of guns, she drives a classic Mustang, she’s not afraid to get into a fight, etc. She’s like this, because she can be like this. I wanted to take a male personality, and place it inside a female character. Then I wanted to surround her with other females like herself (Lola Vencent, Jo Fuentes, Mac Avery, etc.). In the end, I wanted to show, a girl and be both a badass, and a girl.
Until next week…
Sample from Your Fame Will Destroy You
I’m currently working on the sequel to Our Lady of Righteous Rage, titled Your Fame Will Destroy You. Amy and her friends are about to learn the high cost of fame. The higher you rise, the harder people want to see you fall. Here’s a sample from a chapter I’m working on:
Chapter (?)
Amy
The calls from record labels and potential managers were endless…and exhausting. People simply don’t know how to take “no” for an answer. We did interviews with local magazines and newspapers, and even a few bloggers. The media wanted to know why we weren’t moving our careers forward. Nic always gave the best response. “We are moving forward,” he’d say. “We’re just doing it our way. Our fans don’t have a problem with it, and neither should you.”
And it was true. Our fans were extremely supportive of our decision to remain on our own label. Mike was still our manager. The best thing about him: he couldn’t be turned down. If a club or studio didn’t want to hire us, he’d whip out his I-pad and show them all of the things fans were saying about us online. “If you don’t book Our Lady, it’ll be your loss, not theirs.” Sure enough, we’d play the venue, and the owner would make crazy-ass money, just because we were there.
Then, there were the parties. All we had to do was show up, and any lack-luster event would immediately explode. Aidan found a little bar with a private room called Decklin’s. We invited our long-time friends and Erin from the Urban Collective to come and hang out with us. We used the private room at the back of the bar. So many people kept trying to sneak back there and sit with us, we ended up giving one of the bar tenders two hundred bucks to act as our bouncer. We finally let a few of our fans in, at Erin’s request.
“They’ll post photos online and it’ll be great for the band’s image,” she said.
Two hours and I don’t know how many drinks later, it was a party.
Aidan, Dee and Rob sat on a burgundy half-moon shaped couch in the corner, along with some of our fans: a young guy and a young girl. At first, they seemed nervous; star-struck. After a few minutes, when they realized Aidan, Dee and Rob were just normal people, they relaxed, and loosened up.
Over in another corner, I decided to join Erin and Nic, and more of our fans. We were huddled together in a booth. One of the guys was an NYU student. He nervously drank a beer and told me how much he loved my band. I patted him on his back and told him to relax. He smiled, and shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “You’re the first celebrity I’ve ever met. I was at your last show in New Jersey.”
“I’m glad you could make it,” I said.
Erin was tipsy and rattling on about the guys she loved but would never be able to marry. Last week it was Brad Pitt. Tonight, it’s Colin Farrell.
“And it’s really a shame,” Erin said. “Cause he’s Irish, and I’m half Irish. We’d be so good together. My Dad’s Irish, so he’d be happy.”
“I thought you were in love with Brad Pitt,” Nic said.
“No, that was last week,” I said. “And before that, it was Liam Neeson.”
The college student next to me sipped his beer, and raised a curious eyebrow. “Liam Neeson?”
Erin smiled proudly and nodded. “Yep,” she said. “Have you seen Taken? If I ever get kidnapped, I know he’d rescue me.” She finished the last of her beer.
I giggled, and slid out of the booth. “I’ll be back,” I said.
“If you’re going to the bathroom, use that door next to Aidan’s table,” Nic said. “Remember: you’re famous now. If people see you, you’ll never make it in there in one piece.”
I smiled and said, “Right, right. The last thing I need is someone taking pictures of me coming out of a stall in the ladies room.”
Erin nodded in agreement. “Because the photograph kills,” she said. “So be careful, or your fame will destroy you.”
I paused, and stared at her. “What did you say?’
“I said, your fame will destroy you,” Erin said.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Erin shrugged. “It’s a line from a song. A song by Russell Crowe…another guy I’ll never be able to marry.” She sighed. “Ignore me. I’m drunk. Go. Go pee.”
I shook my head and headed towards the bathroom. Sure, she’s drunk, but her words were stuck inside my head. Your fame will destroy you. I suddenly had the feeling I needed to worry about that.
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Sample from Valentine
Time for round 2 of the sample chapters! Today’s post come from “Valentine”, the forst book in the Valentine series. Book one concerns Val’s road trip to California to save her father, followed by her first encounter with Lola Vencent, Rafferty’s Valkyrie. Here’s chapter one:
Chapter 1:
“I’d Rather Ride Solo” or “Road Trip”
It was early; around six in the morning. It was a good time to hit the road. Most people were still asleep, so the roads would be clear. The apartment was dark except for the light hanging above the dining room table. Veronica Entienne stood next to the table in her bath robe, with a mug of coffee in her hand. She watched her cousin Val stuff a few last-minute items into her black duffle bag. She was kneeling on the floor, forcing the zipper to close. When she accomplished her mission, she stood up, and slung the bag across her shoulder. “Okay,” Val said. “I’m ready.”
“Sure you don’t want any coffee?” Veronica asked. “It might help, Val.”
Val shook her head. “You know I don’t drink that stuff,” she said. “Besides, my adrenaline will keep me awake.” She sighed, and looked around the apartment.
Veronica set her mug down on the table. “You’re looking at this place as if you’re never going to see it again,” she said.
“I may not,” Val said.
Veronica shook her head. “Don’t talk like that,” she said. “You’ll come back. I know you will.”
Val smiled at her cousin. “Okay,” she said. “If you say so. You remember what to do, right? You’re okay with this?”
“Yes, yes, Val,” Veronica said. “All I have to do is take care of the rent and the bills, keep the place clean, blah blah blah. I can handle it.”
Val nodded her head. “Okay,” she said.
“Just make sure you do your part and call me every step of the way,” Veronica said.
“I will,” Val said. She placed her hand on the door knob, and slowly turned it. She opened the door, then paused and looked back at her cousin. “Gotta go, now,” she said. “Wish me luck.”
Veronica smiled sadly. “Good luck, Val,” she said. “Be careful, okay?”
Val smiled, and let herself out of the apartment. She walked down the hall, down two flights of stairs, and out of the building. It was time for her to begin her solitary road trip. Her method of transportation: her 1967 Black Ford Mustang. Her route: the infamous route 66. Her purpose: to locate Vincent Entienne, her father. Val walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex, and walked around her car, to the trunk. She opened it, and dropped her duffle bag inside. She looked around the parking lot for any sign that she wasn’t alone. When she was certain no one else was around, she unzipped a side pocket of the bag, where she had tucked a pair of .38 mm black handguns, and extra ammunition. She sighed heavily, then zipped the bag closed and slammed the trunk shut.
Val climbed into her car and started it, and backed out of her assigned parking space at Lindsey Towers Apartments. It was going to be a long drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, but she was determined to go.
Vincent Entienne worked for a man everyone knew as Rafferty. Vincent never explained exactly what he did for Rafferty, but Val knew it wasn’t anything legal or legitimate. Vincent always came home with money, but never a paycheck. Whenever Val asked what he did for Rafferty, he simply said, “I work, I get paid, and I take care of you and Veronica.” But lately, he seemed to be tired of his “work”, and he even talked about getting of the business. In order to quit, he would need a good reason, and he would need to speak to Rafferty in person.
Vincent came home one night in a panic, telling his daughter and his niece he needed to go away for a few days. Something came up, and he had finally decided to quit working for Rafferty. He had to go to California to talk to him. He couldn’t give the girls any details—-he just had to go see Rafferty.
“You have to tell us something, Dad,” Val said as she watched her father pack a dark green back pack.
“I can’t talk about it, Vally Girl,” Vincent said. “Let’s just say, Rafferty asked me for something I can’t give him. I’ll be back in a few days…..I promise.”
But a few days turned into a few weeks. Vincent didn’t call, and he didn’t answer his cell phone. When he didn’t return, Val decided to go to California herself. She would either find her father alive and bring him home, or avenge his death.
Val followed the signs for Springfield and entered route 66. “Hold on Daddy,” she whispered to herself. “I’m coming.”
Every few minutes, Val looked up at her rear view mirror, and saw a dark blue pick-up truck, one car length behind her. She first noticed it when she entered Springfield. Sometimes it would get lost behind another car on the highway, but it would always make its way back to her. It looked like the truck that belonged to her father’s partner , Jacob. Val had called Jacob after her father disappeared, hoping to get some information. Jacob didn’t answer any of her calls. Now, she was certain he was following her.
There was a sign indicating a train station was at the next exit. Val quickly changed lanes and took the exit. This caught the truck by surprise, and the driver missed the exit. Val laughed to herself as she rode around the curve. She drove to a traffic light and made a right turn, and went around another curve which took her directly into the parking lot of the train station. There, she found an empty space at the far end of the lot, parked her car, and turned it off. She gave a sigh of relief, and checked her appearance in her rear view mirror. She brushed away a few loose strands of her carnation pink-dyed hair that had fallen across her face, and got out of her car. She shook her head and stretched. Her journey had barely begun, and she was already being followed. Looking ahead at the station, she figured there had to be restrooms and vending machines inside. She could use the restroom, grab some chips and a soda and hit the road again. She didn’t want to stop again for another four hours, and she couldn’t afford to let anything slow her down.
Val entered the station and immediately found the ladies room. After using it, she walked around the lobby of the station, to a vending machine, where a dollar bought her a can of Pepsi. She popped it open and drank half of it down, and smiled. “Caffeine,” she whispered.
“I said leave me alone!”
“So what?”
Val searched the station’s lobby for the source of the argument, and found a young girl sitting in a chair about fifty feet away. Two teen-aged boys were standing around her. The girl was looking back and forth between them.
“Come on!” one of the boys said. “We’ll give you a ride.”
“I have a train ticket,” the girl said. “I don’t need a ride, so just go away!”
“You’ll have more fun if you ride with us,” the first boy said.
Val quickly finished her Pepsi and threw the can away in the closest garbage can she could find. She began to walk towards the two boys. “Hey!” she said. A few of the other people in the station looked up. The two boys looked at Val in surprise. The girl looked at her with gratitude.
“Didn’t she ask you to leave her alone?” Val asked. She stopped a few feet away from the boys.
“So?” the second boy said. “What’s it to you?”
“This isn’t any of your business,” the first boy said.
“Yeah, well, I’m making it my business,” Val said, calmly. “So, I suggest you guys leave that girl alone…..now.”
The first boy laughed. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Or else what? What are you gonna do?” He narrowed his beady brown eyes at Val. He took two steps toward Val, who grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back, and brought him down to his knees. The other boy backed away.
Val leaned in and whispered into the boy’s ear. “If you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to twist your arm off,” she said. She released his arm, and watched him stand up. He looked over at his friend, then the two of them turned and quickly walked away.
Val looked at the girl sitting on the bench. A smile spread across the girl’s face. She stood up from the bench and extended her hand to Val. “I’m Melinda!” she declared. “Melinda St. James. That was so cool!”
“Val,” Val said. “Val Entienne.”
“I can’t believe you saved me,” Melinda said.
“No problem kid,” Val said. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Well, yes,” Melinda replied. “I’m on my way to my grandparents’ house in Tulsa.”
Val shook Melinda’s hand. “Oh, okay,” she said. “Good luck, Melinda St. James. See you around.” She turned, and started to walk away.
Melinda gasped and turned to the bench. She grabbed the blue duffle bag she had shoved underneath her seat, and ran after Val. “Wait a minute!” she said. “You’re my hero! I have to repay you.”
“No you don’t,” Val said. “Its okay—-really.”
“Where are you going?” Melinda asked.
“California,” Val replied, dryly.
“Can I go with you?” Melinda asked.
Val stopped in her tracks and turned to face Melinda. “Aren’t you going to Tulsa?” she asked.
Melinda looked down at her feet for a moment. “Well, yeah,” she said, quietly. “But I don’t have to.”
Val sighed. “Look kid,” she began, “I’m traveling alone, and I have a schedule to keep.” She looked over at a corner of the station, and saw the two teen boys. Now there were three other boys with them. “Crap,” Val muttered. “They’re still here, and they’re multiplying.”
Melinda gave her a curious look, then turned and saw the boys. “Oh,” she whispered. “They’re back….”
Val stared at the boys and their friends. I can’t leave her alone here, she thought. Those boys are gonna mess with her again. And, Tulsa is on my way….
“Val?”
“Okay, kid,” Val said. “You can come with me. I’ll give you a ride to Tulsa. But that’s it.”
Melinda beamed with delight. “Great!” she exclaimed. “I won’t be any trouble—I promise.”
Val led Melinda out of the station and across the parking lot, to her car. “Give me your bag,” she said. “I’ll put it in the trunk.”
“This is your car?” Melinda asked. “Wow! It’s sooooo cool!”
“How old are you, kid?” Val asked.
“Fifteen,” Melinda replied, proudly. “Well, actually I’m fourteen, but I feel like I’m fifteen.”
“Oh Lord,” Val muttered. “This is going to be a long ride.” She unlocked the passenger side door, and Melinda climbed inside. As she walked around to her door, Val noticed the boys coming out of the station. They walked half-way across the parking lot and stopped. Val got into her car and started the engine. She rolled a few feet forward, then stopped, and revved her engine. The roar of the Mustang’s engine must have been intimidating, because two of the boys backed away. Val rolled forward again, then laughed as all five of the boys turned and ran back into the station. Val pulled out of the parking lot and smiled. “Idiots.”
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