On this past weekend, Mid-Michigan RWA held its annual Retreat From Harsh Reality, my hands down favorite weekend of spring. On Friday morning, my friend and fellow romance writer Margo Hoornstra and I rode to the Bay Pointe Inn in Shelbyville, Michigan, in Majel, my trusty Ford Edge. Majel had a full tank of gas and had very recently visited a car wash to spruce up for the trip. I entered the Bay Pointe Inn’s address in Majel’s navigation system, and she got us there without breaking down or getting us lost. Good girl, Majel. I can always count on you.
The uneventful ride was a very auspicious beginning to a much-anticipated weekend of writing, learning, sharing, and having a darn good time with other writers who don’t bat an eye at our shared insanity. Guest author Katherine Ashe presented two excellent workshops. One helped us to explore why each of us writes. The other touched on writing and marketing the high concept novel. Great stuff! Ashe even took a personal interest in helping me hone the high concept pitch for my work in progress. Even more great stuff!!
During lunch, Margo realized that our Board of Directors had overlooked buying a gift of appreciation for our retreat chair. Yikes! As president this year, Margo couldn’t allow our Retreat Chair to go giftless and feel unappreciated. We decided to shop for the gift during the scheduled block of free time in the afternoon.
From that point on, our karma began to go south.
Margo went to the front desk and got a map from the desk clerk of the local area with store locations. The clerk told her the Family Dollar store around the corner from the local McDonald’s was the closest, about nine miles away. It was marked on the map the clerk gave Margo.
It probably comes as no surprise to anyone that we forgot the map in our room.
Unfortunately, we were already well on our way down the road when Margo realized we didn’t have the map with us. We remembered where the McDonald’s was—we bought lunch there—so we figured we could find the store without a map. We got to the McDonald’s intersection but didn’t see a dollar store of any kind from the intersection, so we kept on going. Just like the men we always chide, we didn’t stop to ask for directions. So embarrassing.
We didn’t remember the store’s name was Family Dollar. For some inexplicable reason we thought we were looking for a Dollar General store. Margo searched for the closest Dollar General on her iPhone and found one in the nearby town of Wayland.
Not so nearby, as it turned out. We followed endless twist and turn directions forever to Wayland and finally found the Dollar General.
It was about 4:45 p.m. when we took our treasures out to Majel and loaded them inside. We climbed in and fastened our seatbelts, ready to get back on the road to the retreat. I stepped on the brake and pressed the ignition button.
A curious and unexpected silence followed. Uh-Oh.
I tried it again. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
The readout on the dash chilled me to the bone. No key detected. Majel, please don’t fail me now.
I told myself there was no need to panic. This happened once before when the fob’s battery died and I knew exactly what to do. There is an alternative procedure to start the motor when the fob fails. I slid the fob into an aperture inside the center console. Confidently, I stepped on the brake and pushed the start button.
Again, a curious and unexpected silence followed. This isn’t funny, Majel.
I tried starting Majel again, and again, and again. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Don’t do this to me, Majel! Not here. Not now.
The chilling readout continued to reappear on the dash. No key detected.
Majel’s interior was unbearably hot from being parked out in the sun. We couldn’t lower the windows to let air in, and every time we opened the doors, the car alarm went off. Fortunately the alarm cancel button on the fob still worked. Whew!
I called MG, my go to car guy, who told me to do all the things I did already. Then he said the car would have to be towed. O joy. MG was out of town too and couldn’t come for me until morning. He said to leave my car in the parking lot and get a ride back to the inn.
It was then officially time to panic. Unbeknownst to Margo, she was to receive a special award on Saturday evening. Majel’s unwillingness to start put the presentation in jeopardy and my life in danger. If I couldn’t get Margo back to the retreat in time for her to be presented with the MMRWA Angel Award for Service, I was a dead woman. The girls in the chapter would undoubtedly kill me and probably torch Majel. I loathe Murphy’s Law.
While I was on the phone with MG, Margo had gone back into the Dollar General and asked if there was a Ford dealership in the area. She learned that the Ed Koehn dealership was less than a block away but that it closed at 3:00 p.m. on Saturday. It was already 5:00 p.m. but she got the number and called anyway. Good thing she did. Someone was still there!
Margo handed me her phone and I spoke to a young man named Jonathan. I explained our situation to him. We were a little over ninety minutes from home. The Edge didn’t detect my key fob and wouldn’t start. We were stranded in a parking lot when we should be at a writer’s retreat in Shelbyville. Help?
Jonathan said he was the only one still at the dealership. He told me he wasn’t a mechanic but would try to help. He came to the parking lot and took the fob back to the dealership to put a new battery in it. When he returned with it, I tried starting Majel again.
No joy.
I asked Jonathan if he would try. Maybe it would start for him. Men just seem to have a way with cars. It’s not fair, but there it is. Well, Majel didn’t start for him—not at first. Jonathan thought it might be a computer glitch. He pressed buttons on the fob in different sequences, and at last Majel started up! Her engine roared to life and her dash and touch screen lit up like Christmas lights. Yes!!!
Margo and I were overjoyed to say the least, and I was relieved to know that the girls in the chapter would probably let me live. We thanked Jonathan profusely and offered to pay him for his help but he refused. As luck would have it, he was a writer too, and he felt he had to help other writers in trouble. He did let each of us give him a big hug. He was our Knight in Shining Armor, no doubt. I asked for his card so I could write to his boss to let him know how helpful his special finance manager Jonathan Rodriguez was to us in our time of need.
On the drive back to the inn, Margo pondered over our misadventure and our salvation. It was fate, or maybe somebody up there was looking out for us. According to Margo, we were meant to forget to take the map with us. If we found the Family Dollar store to begin with, there would have been no dealership close by with someone to help us when the Edge failed to start. She was certain we were meant not to find the Family Dollar store in Shelbyville. We were meant to go all the way to the Dollar General in Wayland where there was a Ford Dealership a block away, where an employee who was also a writer stayed after hours, where said employee chose to answer the phone after hours and was willing to help us when my Ford Edge wouldn’t start. Hmmm…
Maybe Jonathan was actually our Knight in Shining Karma.
Night Stars and Mourning Doves
by Margo Hoornstra
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | The Wild Rose Press
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 22, 2013
Length: 90 Pages
Elyse Monroe may be her sister’s maid of honor, but that doesn’t mean she has to follow the bride’s example and fall in love. Battle-scarred and weary from previous relationships, she has no desire to take a chance on another–no matter how many hints her little sister drops about the best man.
Devastating life events have taken a toll on Eric Matthews. After losing his wife and unborn daughter, he’s come home to heal. Serving as best man at his kid brother’s wedding is the only relationship he cares to contemplate–no matter how attractive the maid of honor.
Thrown together again and again by wedding duties, Elyse and Eric reluctantly agree to explore a possible relationship–only to have their casual date turn into a glorious night of passion. Can two hearts, convinced a happily ever after will never happen, recognize love when it finds them?
Night Stars and Mourning Doves – Excerpt
“I have to tell you, Eric Matthews, you are not what I expected.”
“Not sure how to take that. You always prejudge people before you get to know them?”
“Just those I think may have the chance to impact my life.”
“Impact in a good way or bad?”
“Makes no difference.”
He put his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the wall behind and his body in front. “It always makes a difference.”
“Your mother talked to me about you a little. You’re just not how she described you.”
“My mother’s been saying for weeks I needed to get out.”
“Is that why you called me? For your mother?”
“Not a chance.”
There was no opportunity for further discussion as his mouth reclaimed hers. On one part surprise and three parts delight her arms wrapped around his neck, hands clutching his hair as she, not Eric brought their kiss to another level.
As always with this man, heat emanated from the places he touched her. Except tonight after what they shared, the sensation was different.
“I want to make love to you, Elyse. I don’t want to wade through the formalities.” The words came out short and urgent.
Her reply was firm and breathless. “Every book on dating etiquette is telling me how wrong this is.”
His hands gently cupped her face as his lips tasted hers. “You need to quit reading.”
“I definitely need to quit reading.”
Only If You Dare
by Margo Hoornstra
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | The Wild Rose Press
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 26, 2013
Length: 117 Pages
All the pleasures and none of the pain, that’s what Cynthia Buckingham wants in a relationship these days. A one-night stand with Jonah Colt seems to fit that bill perfectly. Newly divorced, she’s too busy planning her daughter’s wedding for any serious involvement. Besides, her true passion is helping victims of PTSD reclaim their lives.
Waking up after spending the night with a woman he barely knows, Jonah is stunned to realize sex for the sake of sex isn’t enough for him anymore. A veteran of more military battles than he cares to count, he wants to forget it all and focus on peaceful civilian life. Except flashbacks won’t allow it.
Falling for Cynthia makes Jonah regret his weakened state, but he’d rather hide the truth than face it. When she sets aside everything she believes in to help him heal, can he accept her help–and her love?
Only If You Dare – Excerpt
“Jonah. I was wrong, and I’m so very sorry.”
His hand froze on the gear shift. “About picking up your car? I can just give you a ride home then.”
He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for her, but who could blame him?
“You know, I always tell my patients they need to focus on reality, to believe in what is, and go from there.”
“I understand you care about your patients. I’m not one of them.”
What did he think? That she was creating notes for one of her counseling session? “I was wrong about—I should have admitted to myself how much you mean to me and let you know, too.”
“It might have been nice.” He didn’t respond with anything more, just put the car in gear and pulled away from the hospital.
The litany of confessions had already formed in her mind and, when she couldn’t contain them any longer, began to gush out. “I tried to pretend what we had together—” She paused when her voice cracked. “—wasn’t incredibly special. I wanted to believe I could enjoy a physical relationship and dismiss my emotions.” Her voice lowered. “As irrelevant.” She laid her hand on his arm, and a bicep muscle twitched then tensed. “And that was my biggest mistake of all.”
“You were only doing what was working for you, I suppose.”
Squaring up in her seat, she concentrated on the scenery passing by outside. He’d said very little as she went on and on. Because she hadn’t given him a chance to speak? Or because there was nothing he cared to share with her? Either way, she had to go for broke.
“I love you, Jonah.”
About Margo Hoornstra
Like many writers, it’s hard to determine exactly when my fiction writing career began. I remember composing a short story in grade school (I have no idea about what) which was chosen for publication in an all school anthology. A journalism class taken in junior high school led to a job on the school newspaper and a weekly column.
I always loved reading. I loved writing too. Someday, I thought, maybe when I grew up and received the right training, I could actually write a book. After all, I was often told, laughingly most times, I had an extremely vivid imagination.
Through the years, the desire to write was always there. I had so many ideas and characters roaming around in my head, so many stories. But the business of living—going to college, getting married then raising a family—took precedence over something as frivolous as writing a book.
Then one day out of the blue I was downsized—effective immediately—from a job I’d held for over thirty years. What seemed so unfair at the time, I now recognize the tremendous gift I was given that day. As I’m now able to spend more and more time doing what I love—writing romantic fiction—I find I really do have an abundance of stories to share.
The Giveaway
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The Guest Post
by Margo Hoornstra
Saturday In Serendipity – And A Little Secret I’d Like To Share
It’s great to be here at the Serious Whimsy on my Saturday In Serendipity blog tour. Thank you, Jolana, for having me.
Saturday In Serendipity, my first foray into self-publishing, is a compilation of three novellas which revolve around a twentieth high school reunion at Serendipity High School. Serendipity is a mid-sized town located on the shores of Lake Champlain in Vermont.
Three Strikes Thursday, leaves Barry Carlson, professional baseball’s former golden boy, with some serious making up to do. A love ‘em and leave ‘em attitude of his youth has finally caught up with him and his future. Amanda Marsh is the one he foolishly pushed away. He has his work cut out for him if he hopes to ever win her back.
Two On Tuesday, has Serendipity High School graduate Blane Weston viewing her upcoming class reunion as a chance to renew a former, but not forgotten, love. Enter Matt Durand, someone she’s recently considered, and quickly rejected as a potential business partner. Turns out he won’t take no for an answer and has other ideas for her time and activities at the reunion.
One Fateful Friday, is the story of forever friends Jake and Bethany, two soul mates through high school who went their separate ways after graduation. Brought together twenty years later, both involved with careers in healthcare, they assume they’ll re-establish their relationship with flawless compatibility. Except, they now hold different philosophies that might jeopardize their chance at a happy future.
Today, just for fun, I’d like to share some background information on the creation of Saturday In Serendipity. All three novellas were originally published separately as part of a reunion series. One of those stories – One Fateful Friday – has seen it all, if you will. Allow me to explain.
I was once asked what I felt were the major differences between short stories and longer novels. With many of each under my belt—some published, some not—the simple answer is length to write and time to read. But there’s more to possible differences than that. With both short stories and long, ie novels, the goal is to create vibrant, believable characters and put them into interesting situations that need to be resolved. The short story format doesn’t allow for extensive descriptions or character development, requiring the scene or scenes to be written tighter and more concise. On the other hand, the novel can sometimes become bogged down with irrelevant details, character enhancements and back story explanations that are, quite honestly, better left unsaid.
Fortunately, or not, I speak from experience on both underwriting and overwriting, too.
One Fateful Friday began as a short, short story of less than one thousand words that actually received a contract. However, I felt, and my editor agreed, the story deserved to be longer. So off I went to write it. The full length novel version came in at around 75,000 words that—my editor’s opinion which I ultimately agreed with—had great characters in interesting situations with no real all-encompassing plot. The novel I had such high hopes for, she declined to contract.
Disappointed but not defeated, I trimmed out almost half of those seventy-five thousand words. A humbling experience, to be sure, but one that produced, I think and my editor ultimately agreed, a more entertaining read.
The bottom line, length and time are the only true differences between short stories and long. But well connected plot lines, character development that is neither too much or too little, and strong, believable situations that reach satisfying conclusions, make all the difference between what comprises a good story versus one that is bad.
About the Book
Saturday in Serendipity (A Three Book Anthology)
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 11, 2014
Length: 427 Pages
A twenty year high school reunion changes the lives of former classmates and leads to unexpected futures.
Three Strikes Thursday
Barry Carlson, a pro baseball success, could have any woman he wanted. Except one. Twenty years before, Barry won Amanda Marsh’s love, only to crush her heart. He’s returned to Serendipity, determined to win her back. Recently divorced, Amanda is happy—until Barry slides back into her life. Can they put aside old wounds and new misunderstandings to find a forever love?
Two On Tuesday
Blane Weston’s construction company needs the venture capital Matt Durand has. With his reputation for hostile takeovers, she wants no part of him. Mixing business with pleasure, she’s off to Serendipity to hook up with a former flame. Not used to being denied, Matt follows. How can Blane enjoy a journey to her past when Matt is determined to dictate her future?
One Fateful Friday
His high school reunion in Serendipity over, hospital CEO Jake Holbrook regrets his single state. When a special woman from his past tumbles back into his life—and his bed—he’s determined to keep her there. Family practitioner Bethany Thomas avoids an entanglement with her new boss, but unknowingly betrays him. As the holidays approach, can they overcome a lack of trust to find their Christmas miracle?
The Excerpts
Three Strikes Thursday
The solution was simple. Get out of the car, walk up to the house and ring the bell. Apologize for the intrusion when her father came to the door, and ask to see Amanda.
Only for a couple of minutes. Please.
Then he could fall all over himself telling her how sorry he was.
“Yeah that’s gonna fly.” His whisper filled the emptiness around him, and he dropped his head. “Face it, asshole. You blew it.”
In an odd way, talking to himself, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
He turned his gaze back to stare at Amanda’s window. The shade was still down. Her light was out.
So that was it.
Moving like a rigid, soulless robot, Barry put the car in gear and drove slowly away. Picking up speed as he left Amanda’s subdivision, he floored it once he hit the highway. With the windows down, the warm night air cooled as it roared around him.
He flicked the headlights on high. Their beams lit up the trees, telephone poles and bushes as they whizzed by. Nothing could stop him as long as he kept his foot down hard on the gas pedal. Then something did.
Pulling to one side of the deserted road, he jammed the gear shift into park, jumped out, ran around to the back bumper, bent over.
And puked his guts out onto the warm asphalt.
Two on Tuesday
…up until a few years ago being alone suited her just fine. Lately though, call it a change in her biological timepiece, she entertained the idea of someone to share her life. Maybe even have a couple of kids.
All that remained was to find the right man for the job.
Car wheels crunched gravel, and she glanced out the window. A shiny black sedan pulled into a parking spot a ways away. Had Malcolm come out to the site for some reason?
She waited a moment to see. It was hardly the slight form of her business partner who emerged from the driver side a few minutes later. The green polo shirt on this man was unbuttoned at the neck and stretched to the limit over large, sturdy shoulders. Her gaze dipped to follow the expanse of a trim male torso then on to the jean covered outline of a noteworthy ass and long legs.
No doubt one of her foreman’s recruits reporting for work. An assessing gaze skimmed over him again. He certainly looked healthy enough for the job. Though she didn’t get why he drove a shiny new car instead of a rugged pick up like most of the others. Edging her head back in the seat, she studied him out the side window. Feet planted wide, something in the way he took in everything around him told her this one knew his way around a construction site. Doing another quick onceover of the man, she let out a sigh. Or life in general.
One Fateful Friday
…up until a few years ago being alone suited her just fine. Lately though, call it a change in her biological timepiece, she entertained the idea of someone to share her life. Maybe even have a couple of kids.
All that remained was to find the right man for the job.
Car wheels crunched gravel, and she glanced out the window. A shiny black sedan pulled into a parking spot a ways away. Had Malcolm come out to the site for some reason?
She waited a moment to see. It was hardly the slight form of her business partner who emerged from the driver side a few minutes later. The green polo shirt on this man was unbuttoned at the neck and stretched to the limit over large, sturdy shoulders. Her gaze dipped to follow the expanse of a trim male torso then on to the jean covered outline of a noteworthy ass and long legs.
No doubt one of her foreman’s recruits reporting for work. An assessing gaze skimmed over him again. He certainly looked healthy enough for the job. Though she didn’t get why he drove a shiny new car instead of a rugged pick up like most of the others. Edging her head back in the seat, she studied him out the side window. Feet planted wide, something in the way he took in everything around him told her this one knew his way around a construction site. Doing another quick onceover of the man, she let out a sigh. Or life in general.
About Margo Hoornstra
Like many writers, it’s hard to determine exactly when my fiction writing career began. I remember composing a short story in grade school (I have no idea about what) which was chosen for publication in an all school anthology. A journalism class taken in junior high school led to a job on the school newspaper and a weekly column.
I always loved reading. I loved writing too. Someday, I thought, maybe when I grew up and received the right training, I could actually write a book. After all, I was often told, laughingly most times, I had an extremely vivid imagination.
Through the years, the desire to write was always there. I had so many ideas and characters roaming around in my head, so many stories. But the business of living—going to college, getting married then raising a family—took precedence over something as frivolous as writing a book.
Then one day out of the blue I was downsized—effective immediately—from a job I’d held for over thirty years. What seemed so unfair at the time, I now recognize the tremendous gift I was given that day. As I’m now able to spend more and more time doing what I love—writing romantic fiction—I find I really do have an abundance of stories to share.