THE TWISTED TALE OF STORMY GALE

Author: Christine Bell

Carina Press: http://tinyurl.com/3dxytn5

Release date: April 25, 2011

Here’s the blurb:

I’m a time pirate—born in 1810, now a 21st-century woman. I travel through time trying to right wrongs without disrupting the fragile balance between what is and what can never be.

That’s why it’s vital that I go to 1836 and find the man who conned my brother out of his Time Travel Mechanism as quickly as possible. If the technology falls into the wrong hands, it could change the world as we know it. The notorious Duke of Leister definitely qualifies as the wrong hands. An amateur scientist of the slightly mad variety, he’s bound to figure out how to use the TTM sooner rather than later.

I knew this wouldn’t be easy. But I wasn’t counting on him being as sexy as hell. Or winding up chained to his bed…

How can anyone resist a feisty time traveling pirate who has a pain-in-the-ass sibling she needs to look after?  Why, if not for her brother, Bacon, Stormy wouldn’t be stuck traveling back in time to retrieve an important device he carelessly lost in a bet to The Duke.  She certainly wouldn’t have pretended to be a Romanian speaking gypsy when the Duke enters her tent to have his future read.  Which turns out to be a real shame because he’s quite fluent in Romanian. :)

And so it begins.  A fast-paced, well plotted, adrenaline inducing read.  The concept is original and the characters are well fleshed-out.  There’s plenty of humor and some thought-provoking wisdom sprinkled throughout.

Here’s Stormy coming to terms with her mega-mistake after she nearly chokes to death discovering that Mr. Handsome is indeed The Duke:

“Yes, fine,” I replied stiffly. I was pretty pissed at myself and more than a little worried that my Spidey senses were on the fritz. How could I not have known that the man before me was the duke? Instinct is everything in this job, and mine had barely made a peep. When this was over, I needed to reassess a few things. First on the list? How not to be swayed by a pretty face.

And here’s a compelling example of Stormy working through a tough situation:

Apparently, fate was intent on making this a teaching moment. The lessons? You never become immune to new pain, you don’t get credit for old pain and it ain’t up to you to decide when you’ve had your share of it.”

The best compliment I can give an author is to say that their characters or character, stayed with me even after their journey on the page ended.  With The Twisted Tale Of Stormy Gale,  Stormy did just that.  She’s a highly likable, no-nonsense, time traveling pirate that I’d love to be friends with.

My rating on this one is:



Five Martinis!

I highly recommend this one and I do hope this isn’t the last we see of Story Gale.  She’s quite a character in more ways than one. ;) Personally, I think Ms. Bell needs to follow this one up and give Stormy more landscape on a broader canvas to roam. Because Stormy busts off the page from the get-go and doesn’t let up.  Put this one in your TBR.  You won’t be disappointed.

The reviews are in: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/159654833

M.

Gee, some things in life a person should be able to count on, you know?  Getting caught in a lie at least once, being embarrassed no less than hundred times, taxes, death and yeah, getting to a certain age where ‘The Talk’ is no longer an option.

Seew, when I look at the conversation I had with Madge (that’s my mom for any of you guys who don’t know) and I think I experienced all those things in one sitting.  Was a lie in involved? Check. Embarrassment involved?  Double check.  <-That’s one of Madge’s fortes.  Taxes? Meh, I’m stretching that one, but work with me here.  After all, my patience was taxed to the extreme and finally, was death involved?  Absofreakinglutely, because I just about died when I heard what she had to say.

I should mention that she speaks in Madgeonese. Always has.  Always will.  With that in mind, here’s our conversation:

Madge: “We need to talk.”

Me: “Sure what’s up.”

Her: “I read your book.  Sit down.”

Me: Thinking: uh-oh, this didn’t sound good.  With my collar feeling suddenly tight around my neck and every dirty sex scene in that book rolling around in my mind, I figured I better sit down.  I was kinda dizzy.  “Um-kay.”

Her: “You had help, didn’t you?”

Me: Perking up.  Automatically I think that, she thinks, it’s SO brilliant that I couldn’t have written it by myself.  I needed help, no better yet, I’d gotten help.  Maybe I had a seance and channeled Margaret Mitchell – Hey, that could make a great story idea if I…I shook my head and tried to stay focused. “Nope.” I beamed. “It was all me.”

Her: Pursing her lips in that: There’s no pondering to be done on the subject so listen, way of hers  “I don’t think so.  In fact I’m sure your writer friend – the who contributed? Worked real hard on page one hundred and sixty-three, two hundred and four through thirteen, and definitely on page three hundred and two.”  She shook her head and mumbled beneath her breath.  “She worked really hard on that one.”

Me: Blink, blink.  then it occurs to me. Huh, I have sex scene that’s ten pages long?  Impressive.  Stay focused – she’s nodding that tricky, knowing nod at you.  “Really, I didn’t have any help.”

Her: “Sure you did, and when Auntie Sally comes next month you’re going to tell her so.  Just say your friend is very experience in that area and she helped you out.”

Me: Blink-blink-blink. “I’m not going to lie to her.  That – that would be–”

Her: With chin raised and a brow arched at me in a dare that said – you better not disagree with me. “That would be fiction, dear.  Apparently the talent to create it runs rampant in our family.”

Me: Thinking WTF is going on here?  I’m too old for this shit. If Aunt Sally can’t handle…wait a cotton picking minute.  Who said Auntie Sally could read my book?  “Who said she was gonna read it?”

Madge: “Why, I did.  It’s terrific!  She’ll love it.  She reads erotica you know, so this will be right up her ally.” She beamed.  “I’m so proud of you.”  She got up and turned to leave.  She’d taken no more than three paces when she paused, but didn’t look back.  “I’m proud of you – but that friend of yours?  She needs to wash her imagination out with some strong Lyle soap.”

Me: Unblinking.  Wow, that’s when I knew it was true.  My mother had to be part Egyptian.  Because, I’m thinking only a native could pull off the Illustrious title of Queen of Denial so flawlessly.

*Sigh* I love Madge.  She enriches my life in so many ways and is completely oblivious to it.

Don’t you love how family members reacts to your work after they read it?

M. :D

*Head scratch* Does that mean I’m trying to decide to embrace something or split in half…or, um not?  You’ll never know unless I better qualify my intentions because that one word means both things.  You gotta love words like that.

So, what is a word?  No, really, think about that.  Say, I’m using the word normal.  What’s normal? To me it could mean something, but to you, something so different. Hmm… Tough when you want to write, right?  You know what else is tough?  Phrases and how we interpret them.

Oh, don’t worry.  I’m not gonna get all philosophical on you. I’m just thinking about words and phrases and what those used to mean to me.

For a word?  Let’s go with normal. What is normal? Who defines it? And, more importantly, who lives with it?

I asked a bunch of people I sort of know (okay, twitter followers – but in their and my defense, those guys rock!) to give me answers. The best answer I got out of the numerous: Thanks guys! Was: Normal is what we’re used to.

Eww, K. But what happens when your normal changes everyday?  When the ‘what we’re used to part’ becomes the unknown and the ‘normal-for-us unknown part’ becomes something we need to get used to?  What do ya do?

Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I pull out the vodka.  What? It goes with everything. ;)

For phrases?  Hmm…

Let’s see.  In university, the phrase: ‘No, I’m not doing anything.’ used to mean I literally wasn’t doing anything. Nothing besides staring at a wall or reading a classic for the third time in the sun out in the park – because I fancied myself well-read. Wow, maybe if I stuck to reading those classics just once instead of doing the rereads – I’d be better read today.  Oh, that hindsight is a killer isn’t it?

So, where was I?  Oh yeah.  Here’s the thing:  Today when I say: “ No, I’m not doing anything,” This usually means I’m making dinner, I have a client on the phone, my dad waving at me to give him a hand, my mom is freaking over my dad bugging me, and the dog is crossing her legs while she waits for me to finish my not doing anything- so I can take her out, so she can do something.

Gee, looking at how my life has changed I figure, I’m doing pretty darn good.  I mean, I still drink vodka out of a glass, *shrug* don’t judge me.  It’s not like I’ve tried to squashed myself through the bottleneck to swim around or anything…Okay, maybe I tried that once when my olive went for a dive and the result was less than elegant. <- Meh, okay, you can judge me. 0_o

Words, phrases and life it’s amazing how they change with age.

M.

THE TWISTED TALE OF STORMY GALE

Author: Christine Bell

Carina Press

Release date: April 25, 2011

Here’s the blurb:

I’m a time pirate—born in 1810, now a 21st-century woman. I travel through time trying to right wrongs without disrupting the fragile balance between what is and what can never be.

That’s why it’s vital that I go to 1836 and find the man who conned my brother out of his Time Travel Mechanism as quickly as possible. If the technology falls into the wrong hands, it could change the world as we know it. The notorious Duke of Leister definitely qualifies as the wrong hands. An amateur scientist of the slightly mad variety, he’s bound to figure out how to use the TTM sooner rather than later.

I knew this wouldn’t be easy. But I wasn’t counting on him being as sexy as hell. Or winding up chained to his bed…

How can anyone resist a feisty time traveling pirate who has a pain-in-the-ass sibling she needs to look after?  Why, if not for her brother, Bacon, Stormy wouldn’t be stuck traveling back in time to retrieve an important device he carelessly lost in a bet to The Duke.  She certainly wouldn’t have pretended to be a Romanian speaking gypsy when the Duke enters her tent to have his future read.  Which turns out to be a real shame because he’s quite fluent in Romanian. :)

And so it begins.  A fast-paced, well plotted, adrenaline inducing read.  The concept is original and the characters are well fleshed-out.  There’s plenty of humor and some thought-provoking wisdom sprinkled throughout.

Here’s Stormy coming to terms with her mega-mistake after she nearly chokes to death discovering that Mr. Handsome is indeed The Duke:

“Yes, fine,” I replied stiffly. I was pretty pissed at myself and more than a little worried that my Spidey senses were on the fritz. How could I not have known that the man before me was the duke? Instinct is everything in this job, and mine had barely made a peep. When this was over, I needed to reassess a few things. First on the list? How not to be swayed by a pretty face.

And here’s a compelling example of Stormy working through a tough situation:

Apparently, fate was intent on making this a teaching moment. The lessons? You never become immune to new pain, you don’t get credit for old pain and it ain’t up to you to decide when you’ve had your share of it.”

The best compliment I can give an author is to say that their characters, or character, stayed with me even after their journey on the page ended.  With The Twisted Tale Of Stormy Gale,  Stormy did just that.  She’s a highly likable, no-nonsense, time traveling pirate that I’d love to be friends with.

My rating on this one is:


Five Martinis!

I highly recommend this one and I do hope this isn’t the last we see of Story Gale.  She’s quite a character in more ways than one. ;) Personally, I think Ms. Bell needs to follow this one up and give Stormy more landscape on a broader canvas to roam. Because Stormy busts off the page from the get-go and doesn’t let up.  Put this one in your TBR.  You won’t be disappointed.

Riley


I’m glad The Boy clarified this issue for me.  I’ve been really worried about not being able to pinpoint what takes up my valuable time all day- everyday. So, I consider myself fortunate enough to have a wise and savvy partner, who not only takes the time to figure this out for me, but he cares enough about those findings to share them with friends and family. <- WTF?

Now, at first blush this type of covert to-do-list appreciation sounds great, doesn’t it?  I mean, conveyed correctly I may finally be given the accolades I deserve for doing everything I do on a daily basis, right?  Wrong.  Because the one part of this equation, that doesn’t stand-up to the test of full disclosure  is The Boy.

Just off the top of my head here’s a typical day for me:

Take care of my immediate family
Take care of my extended family
Take care of the house.
Work: by handling clients, jobs and the very large headaches that come with those things. :)
Cook (of which I do EVERY night)
And finally, if I’m lucky, I get the opportunity to write.

And this, my friends is how I caught The Boy describing my schedule to a neighbor.  Here’s their conversation:

The Boy: “Oh, yeah, she’s busy.  Busy fooling around with other men all day.”

The neighbor: “What?”

The Boy: “With the heroes in her stories.  She writes some hot stuff.”

The neighbor: “Oh, right. I knew that.”

Me thinking: How did the neighbor know that.  I didn’t tell him.

The Boy: “It’s like internet sex with a blow-up doll.”

Me: Jaw swinging. WTF?

The neighbor: *laughs* How so?”

The Boy: “Even though I know the guy on the other end of her keyboard isn’t real – he still manages to piss me off on occasion because I know he’s spent the day with her.”

Me: First thinking: The day with him???? Try an hour and half.  Then it occurs to me.  This, THIS -out of everything I’ve accomplished on said day, is the one thing he focuses in on?

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Meh, he’s right about one thing.  I must like fooling around with blow-up dolls because I married a freakin’ airhead. ;)

M.

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