TANGLED LIVES - Carol McClain - One Free Book

Welcome back to my blog. Why did you become an author? I taught English for many years. My favorite subject was my AP English Language and Composition. Here we studied syntax and diction and elements that made writing memorable. Coupled with my regular classes with students who always wrote, I wondered—could I write a book?

Obviously, I did.

That said, you’ll never read my first writings—Praise God.

As I reflect, I always had been a dreamer and in the dreaming, a writer. I started in third grade, paused in my authorial skills until the horrible, angst-filled poetry stage in high school. I moved on to Sunday school plays until the day I asked myself that fateful question: Could I write a book?

If you weren’t an author, what would be your dream job? I already had my dream job and am still living it. Teaching.

I always joked I lacked imagination. As a child, my parents thought school was necessary. At play at home, I acted out classroom scenes with me as the teacher. After college, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to do, so I “did” school.

I’ve retired from the classroom, but I supervise student teachers and teach Bible studies.

I love school.

If you could have lived at another time in history, what would it be and why?

I’m not so sure I’d change. If I lived in the 1700 or 1800s, I’d be dead from a hemorage after childbirth, or from the cancer I had in my thirties or my ruptured appendix. Earlier in the 20^th century we had World War I and World War II. Any earlier epoch was probably worse: bubonic plague, serfdom, sweating sickness, slavery.

Our society is on the wrong path today and is mentioned daily in my prayers, but I’ve been fortunate to have been born when higher education didn’t mortgage your life and all our mores didn’t sell our souls.

What place in the United States have you not visited that you would like to? Alaska! My husband and I have watched every show about Alaska. The state is gorgeous. To see glaciers and the Alaska Range and Denali and the tundra would be a dream come true.

My protagonist in Tangled Lives dreams of Alaska and mimics my longing (except for the cold, and my love for the Smokies).

The bugs, rain, darkness, and -50F temps would keep me from living there, but I’d love to see the state—the whole state.

How about a foreign country you hope to visit? I’ve been fortunate to see much of Europe. Spain and Italy are my favorites. I’d go to either of those countries again and again. I love art and architecture, and these two countries abound in both.

What lesson has the Lord taught you recently?

“Hang on.”

“Pain produces beauty if you allow the Lord to work.”

Recently, I had a spate of hard situations. After a year of decline and suffering, my mother died. A couple of months later, I had a ruptured appendix which I think was worse than any doctor told me as I lay in the hospital on heavy pain medication for five days.

During that time, my dear brother died suddenly. My daughter had elective surgery. Then her father died.

I knew people prayed for me, but I couldn’t feel God. I dug into worship and my Bible. I believed without feeling Him, that God carried me.Andrew Ripp, a contemporary Christian singer, has a line in his song “Roses” that makes me cry every time I hear the lyrics because of its beauty and truth: “Love is the blood-red stain, the beauty that the pain exposes. Maybe that’s why God made roses.”

As I exit this stage of my life, I cherish this “Blood-red stain.”

Tell us about the featured book? Tangled Lives is a contemporary novel. Two sisters love the same man. They share a past one can’t remember and the other can’t forget.

Tangled Lives is the third, and final installment, of the Treasure Lives series. The story follows the life of Roxie and Crystal Snow, two of the sisters found by Meredith Jaynes in Book 1, Borrowed Lives. The past tangles their future as they learn forgiveness and decide to follow their dreams rather than their prescribed lives.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Prologue

Childhood behaves like the morning mist. Children dance and delight, then grow and vanish into the light of their days. So many nights, I wished my girls would mature, would give me grandchildren, would give me a moment to myself. First, of course, go to college.

When the time arrived, and they left me, they took their magic. Without magic, the scent of childhood wafted away in the morning fog. How could I have understood, all those years ago, the bedraggled waifs I fostered would steal my heart? In my reluctance to mother the abandoned children, I never fathomed the temporary fostering would turn into everlasting love when I adopted them.

Once more, I bit back tears as Crystal Joy, my youngest girl, climbed into her car. Last week, we outfitted the Honda with hand controls, so she could drive despite her spina bifida. Parker and I watched as she drove away to the University of Tennessee to join her sister.

I imagined I heard her singing. Never was Crystal without a song even as a child. Back then she hammered on pots and Tupperware to make music. Her alto, always on pitch. Her fingers twitched on guitar strings or dulcimers. In the end, my youngest daughter settled on the violin. Never did the spina bifida slow Crystal down or make her feel inferior. Could a mother call one child perfect?

The dust from the road settled, and I stood next to Parker like the day Lisa Simpson tried to adopt Crystal’s sister.

Roxie.

Always the most sensitive. Perhaps the proverbial middle child. Sweet, insecure Roxie. Too independent and too needy. Her biological parents died of drug overdoses. Roxie had been old enough to understand abandonment, too young to realize her parents’ issues had nothing to do with her worth. Her oldest sister’s grandfather adopted her when she was eight. The hole bored through my heart. It compounded sweet Roxie’s belief in her lack of worth. Roxie believed I loved everyone more than her.

Parker looped his arm around me.

His closeness soothed. Always.

“Meredith, the girls will be home before you realize they moved out. Now’s the time for them to heal, live their passions, and find themselves.” He kissed the top of my head. “They’ll be okay.”

In Parker’s eyes, I hoped to see the truth of his words. This time, I didn’t run away and hide. I let God take my fears and prayed the sins of my daughters’ parents would no longer descend on their innocent offspring. I prayed the love of adoptive parents and a heavenly Father would redeem.

Here are my buy links:

Tangled Lives print book: https://www.amazon.com/Tangled-Lives-Carol-McClain/dp/1649499671/ref

Tangled Lives ebook: https://www.amazon.com/Tangled-Lives-Treasured-Book-ebook/dp/B0CBLFJJC6/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1689345211&sr=8-1

How can readers find you on the Internet?

My website lists my appearances, my releases with buy links, and my blog. You can find me at:

http://www.carolmcclain.com

Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter. I’m on Facebook as Author Carol McClain

Thank you for sharing this book with my blog readers and me. I love your unique writing voice.

Readers, Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 2 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link: Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com 

PRODIGAL LIVES - Carol McClain - One Free Book

Welcome back, Carol. How did you come up with the idea for this story? For several years, I’ve worked with addicts. The solution to their problems sound easy for the uninitiated. However … I’ve seen devoted Christians with an ear to God’s tender voice fall victim again. Without good support groups, they have nowhere to go but back to the conditions that caused them to be addicted.

This is the second book in the Treasured Lives series. Book 1, Borrowed Lives, introduced us to the protagonist, Pearl. I wanted to show the conditions and thought processes that plunge us into darkness. Even though she thinks life stinks, her “perfect” family battles their own issues.

All my books involve the concept of redemption. None of us have fallen so low that God can’t pick us up. The book’s not a downer, but a hope-filled journey of despair, love and redemption.

Oh, also humor. I cannot write without my trademark humor poking through.

If you were planning a party with Christian authors of contemporary fiction, what six people would you invite and why?

Without a doubt, the first person on my list would be Lisa Wingate. I haven’t read a book of hers I didn’t like. Her style and presentation are elements I’d love in my work.

Deb Raney would be on the list. She knows how to set up a character with complex problems with no way out. Plus, her sweet personality is a delightful counterpoint to my pessimism.

Linda Rondeau has mentored me, encouraged me, and opened doors in my writing career I’d never open on my own. Linda’s my doppelganger. We tease each other (both of us space cadets) that we’re the blonde leading the blonde.

Steven James’s writing work has schooled me in this craft. He once had a launch party where the name of someone who attended would be the victim in his next novel. He would be invited under the condition I’m the murdered woman.

Angela Hunt. I’m not a fan of her historical fiction, but I love her contemporary. She holds me spellbound and is an author I’ll pick up without perusing the details of the novel too deeply.

Lynette Eason rounds out my list. I’ve taken classes from her at BRCWC. She taught me so much. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write so much and win so many awards.

Now let’s do that for a party for Christian authors of historical fiction, what six people would you invite and why? Janette Oke’s work filled our library when my daughter was young. We’d sit for hours and read. After she went to bed, I read ahead because I couldn’t stop the story.

Francine Rivers covers so many areas of historical fiction from Appalachia to ancient Israel. Plus, she such a universally loved author, billions of other people would come to my party. Peruse any recommended reading list, she tops the names multiple times.

If we could resurrect the dead, Catherine Marshall. To this day Christy resonates in me.

Tessa Afshar. She’d been in one of my writing groups, and I loved the book I read of hers.

Henry McLaughlin had been in one of my earliest writing groups. He was an excellent critique partner and a delight to be with. We need a man in this party, and who doesn’t love a good Western?

Many times, people (and other authors) think you have it made with so many books published. What is your most difficult problem with writing at this time in your career?

The hardest part is coming up with something new and fresh. Prodigal Lives is second in a series. As I complete this interview, I’m struggling with Book 3. I started Book 3 once and abandoned it after thirty-thousand words. I’m now on a roll, but book launch, editing for Elk Lake, and caring for family eats so much of my time, I shunt writing aside.

Tell us about the featured book. Have you ever fallen so low you know there’s no way up?  

This is Pearl Solomon’s life. Jealous of her sisters who remained with her foster mother after Grandpa Guy adopted her, Pearl makes every wrong decision possible.

Little does she know, life throws roadblocks in her foster parents’ and her sisters’ lives, too.

Life keeps piling problems on Meredith Jaynes. She loses her second foster child—one she was scheduled to adopt. Then Parker Snow refuses to marry her. With only her goats and artisan soap to support her, life will get no better.

If she is honest, though, she still has Crystal. Her funny, happy, loveable toddler makes the sun shine and reminds her of the never-failing love of God.

Pearl Solomon loves her life with her grandfather Guy, but every one of her triumphs is overshadowed by her sisters’ lives. With Mama Meredith, they live a life she envies. Because of her jealousy, she refuses to contact them.

Years later, life for both families twist down paths they do not wish to travel. Pearl knows she’s lost what was most precious in life but has no means of fixing things. Left to her own devices, she spirals out of control.

Meredith finds it harder to mask the despair infertility has brought to her life.

Both families believe they must reconcile themselves to their fates as reality shatters their dreams unless they dig deep for the promise of love.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Nothing ever happened as promised. The warm March

day mocked Meredith Jaynes. A pale sun in a pastel blue

sky shone on her as she clung to Parker Snow. The soft

breeze stirred the redbuds like a scene she’d imagine on

her Hallmark movies. Unfortunately, this was not happily

ever after.

Meredith and Parker stood on the side of the road

watching the social worker’s white car carry her foster child

away. Breathing came hard as her heart squeezed her lungs.

They stood for a long time after Roxie disappeared—gone to

live with Lisa and Todd Simpson. Lisa—the aunt who swore

she only wanted to meet the girls before she signed away

parental rights. Then changed her mind. The Simpsons

would not only take Roxie to Kentucky. They’d fly her to

Korea when the army transferred Todd. 

Roxie left, and Olaf stayed. Another broken promise.

The kitty had been Roxie’s lifeline and should’ve gone

with her. Lisa complained cats irritated her boys’ allergies.

Roxie, though, loved her cat with the orange stripe along

his nose. Didn’t love endure all things?

Meredith’s throat dried. Breathing became impossible.

If Roxie stayed with her, she’d have given the sweet pixie

unicorns and mermaids—or, at the very least, Olaf. Why

couldn’t Roxie stay?

The stupid law.

How can readers find you on the Internet? My favorite places to connect with readers are the following—with my website the best.

On carolmcclain.com you can sign up for my newsletter and blog. You can find out where I’ll be with books and my glass work (I am a glass artist, also).

On Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/author.Carol.McClain

BookBub is a great place to connect. https://www.bookbub.com/profile/carol-mcclain

Finally, Goodreads. https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard?ref=nav_profile_authordash

Prodigal Lives, at the moment, is only found here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60750069-prodigal-lives?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=91KT6OzXsA&rank=2

Thank you, Carol, for sharing this new book on my blog.

Readers, leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 2 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link: https://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2022/05/prodigal-lives-carol-mcclain-one-free.html

BORROWED LIVES - Carol McClain - One Free Book

Welcome back, Carol. Tell us about your salvation experience. Odd as this may sound, my three-year-old daughter was the reason I accepted Jesus. During her early years, my life was “unpleasant.” I existed dismally in a chaotic marriage. Despite our marital problems, my child was always happy.

Even not knowing God, I knew He was raising her. Essentially, I dedicated her life to Him.

During this time, my brother had become a Christian. He opened my eyes to faith, and I decided to go to church because of my child. If I wanted to go to hell, that was my decision, but I couldn’t condemn my daughter to it. I needed to find out if Christianity was true.

Church attendance made life more difficult. My ex-husband liked every faith but Christianity. I quit going, but every time we passed our former church, my daughter would point and say, “There’s our church, Mommy.”

I’d slink down in the driver’s seat (of course, keeping my eyes on the road), and say nothing.

Eventually, my marriage ended (again because I couldn’t justify rearing a daughter in an environment that would wound her). I found a new place of worship. The people there befriended me and taught me, and the rest is history.

You’re planning a writing retreat where you can only have four other authors. Who would they be and why?

Lisa Wingate—I buy almost any book of hers I find without reading the first pages. I love her work. I use her style and development as teaching tools for my own writing. I, in no way, resemble her voice or style, but they influence me. Have I said I love her work?

Ane Mulligan—I believe, and BIG disclaimer, Ane more than likely doesn’t agree—we have a similar style, and our voice contains humor. I’d love to learn from her.

Barbara Delinski—not on the level of Wingate, but I love her style. I do read her cover blurbs and first pages because I don’t like all her books. I do enjoy her style and, like Wingate, read her novels to figure out how to make mine work.

Annie Dillard—I made my AP English Language class read Dillard (and when you read my most embarrassing moment answer a few questions down, you won’t believe I taught AP English). During that time period I devoured her work. Loved the spirituality it evoked. And seeing as it’s not an authoritative theology, I mostly loved the poetry of her prose. Evocative and beautiful. Every time I reread Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, I found new ideas and images.

Do you have a speaking ministry? If so, tell us about that.

I have a teaching ministry, not necessarily speaking. I have taught a couple of online courses for ACFW. In addition to this, I will be speaking for the San Gabriel’s Writers on April 1. I will also be teaching a course on dialog at the Mt. Zion Ridge Conference in May. Once a month, I teach local writers at the Postmark LaFollette Writers’ Group.

What is the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you and how did you handle it? How can we talk about the most embarrassing without humiliating ourselves again?

Lena asked—so here goes: I taught high school journalism. The students didn’t work overly hard for the course, and one girl wrote a horrific article about school lunches. She filled the article with misinformation and clichéd jabs. So, I made her correct the article. Meanwhile, everyone else created rewrites.

To say my eyes glazed over and my mind anesthetized itself is not a hyperbole.

The semester neared the end. We had to get our final project out. Layout (I forget the program name) was complicated. Hours and hours I spent on it and then I needed to proof final result.

I thought (Note the word thought) I proofed every article, so I sent the paper to the printer.

Done. Now, I could fly to the Bahamas, drink a virgin mojito and watch the surf. (Or sit in my gazebo in Malone, New York and read—what I really planned to do).

When the paper returned, we bundled the copies for each homeroom for distribution.

My negligent reporter blanched. “Mrs. D’Avanzo (my erstwhile name), you printed the wrong article.”

I read. And indeed, every one of her uncorrected grammatical mistake—not to mention the unfounded, sophomoric rants about cafeteria food—was printed in the paper. (Writers, attention here, ALWAYS have someone else do a final read-through).

What to do? I had twenty diligent students whose work I had uploaded correctly. This was the last day of the semester. School was closing for the year.

Fortunately, or not, the article perfectly backed a filler photograph, so we cut it out.

Yikes. If only I had time, and money, to redo the mess.

Yep. We sent out the paper with a hole in it.

I’d hoped the world would forget, but here I am, sharing the embarrassing moment on one of the most popular blogs on the internet.

Thank you for the compliment. People are always telling me that they’d like to write a book someday. I’m sure they do to you, too. What would you tell someone who came up to you and said that?

I tell them I’m available to help. I’m willing to teach them, but first they have to write something—even if what they write is awful. Nora Roberts said, “I can fix a bad page. I can't fix a blank page.”

To this date, no one has taken me up on my offer to help. (Maybe they heard about my newspaper escapade?)

I had a similar event when I was the managing editor for a regional Christian newspaper over 10 years ago, and mine went to print, on the front page. I didn’t catch the fact that the l was left out of Six Flags Over Texas. I still have copies of that paper in my filing cabinet. One of the salesmen brought it to my attention in a dramatic way. Tell us about your featured book. Distraught from recent tragedy, Meredith Jaynes takes pity on a young girl who steals from her. Meredith discovers “Bean” lives in a hovel mothering her two younger sisters. The three appear to have been abandoned. With no other homes available, Social Services will separate the siblings. To keep them together, Meredith agrees to foster them on a temporary basis.

Balancing life as a soap maker raising goats in rural Tennessee proved difficult enough before the siblings came into her care. Without Bean’s help, she’d never be able to nurture these children warped by drugs and neglect—let alone manage her goats that possess the talents of Houdini. Harder still is keeping her eccentric family at bay.

Social worker Parker Snow struggles to overcome the breakup with his fiancée. Burdened by his inability to find stable homes for so many children who need love, he believes placing the abandoned girls with Meredith Jaynes is the right decision. Though his world doesn’t promise tomorrow, he hopes Meredith’s does.

But she knows she’s too broken.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Something crashed downstairs.

Meredith Jaynes bolted up in bed. John? Rosemary?

She shook sleep from her head and listened for another sound.

Nothing.

Just a dream.

Then porcelain shattered.

Not a dream.

She tossed off her covers. Out of habit, not onto John’s side. While her heart hammered, she slid open the bedside table to grab her Walther .22. Meredith strained to hear. She prayed for silence. She slipped in the cartridge then ratcheted a shell into the chamber and released the safety.

Once more, something clattered like a tipping chair or a marionette tap dancing on the hardwood floor.

She tiptoed into the hallway.

Below her, the distinct bleating of goats wafted up the stairwell.

Goats? Inside?

She reengaged the safety on her .22 as she scurried down the stairwell.

In the kitchen, Oreo, her black and white Nubian who looked like her cookie namesake, eyeballed her with cocked head and slit pupils. With a bleat from her perch on the table, she dug into the loaf of bread Meredith had brought home from the farmers’ market.

Meredith leaned against the doorjamb and breathed again. The metal of the gun she held chilled her through John’s shirt—one she hadn’t washed …

You can purchase this book on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Borrowed-Lives-Carol-McClain-ebook/dp/B08Z3HL2FZ/ref

How can readers find you on the Internet?

You can connect with me at: http://www.carolmcclain.com

On Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/author.Carol.McClain

On twitter and Instagram: @carol_mcclain

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14030286.Carol_McClain

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/carol-mcclain

Thank you, Carol, for sharing this book with my blog readers and me. I’m eager to read it (hopefully soon).

Readers, leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link: Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com 

A NEW YORK YANKEE ON STINKING CREEK - Carol McClain - One Free Book or Ebook

Welcome back, Carol. What are some of the spiritual themes you like to write about?

Virtually all my books deal with redemption of some sort. They don’t necessarily deal with salvation, but with misconstrued/misunderstood concepts of faith the characters must work out.

A New York Yankee on Stinking Creek deals with two characters. On the surface they seem diametrically different. The protagonist must find a softening from her liberal, atheistic views. The antagonist must find her freedom from religion’s rules. Neither character will do so without each other.

What other books of yours are coming out soon?

Chantel and Charlie AKA The Honeymoon’s Over may or may not make it out—but here’s where readers on this blog can weigh in. It’s a rom/com with 50-year-old newlyweds dealing with grown children who don’t act too grown-up. Neither character sees his or her children as an issue. It’s funny and lighthearted.

When it releases, I’d love to feature it on this blog. If you could spend an evening with one contemporary person (not a family member of yours), who would it be and why?

Katherine, Duchess of Windsor. For one, I love little children and I’d love to romp with her kids. Second, it would be glorious to see how royalty live, to get a first-hand tour of the castles from someone intimately connected to them. Finally, I’d love to understand the role the royalty actually do.

What historical person would you like to meet (besides Jesus) and why?

This is always a tie between Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mother Teresa. I know these humans are flawed. Our society especially loves to point out King’s sins. Nevertheless, the change in the world these two made awe me.

First, I was a child during the time of Martin Luther King, Jr. I longed to be a Freedom Rider and to attend his rallies. That he willingly went to jail for his convictions amazes me.

Also, I taught AP English Language and Composition. We always studied King’s speeches. To pick his oratorical brain would be divine.

With Mother Teresa, her work among the poor blows me away. I’m a germaphobe. So I’d love to do her work, but under the extreme poverty she worked with, I know I’d be too crazy to be much help. Her humility and dedication floor me.

Since there’s no way I could ever physically or emotionally do their work, I’ll fantasize about it in my novels.

How can you encourage authors who have been receiving only rejections from publishers?

I’ve been there, and am still there. My latest release A New York Yankee on Stinking Creek is my first self-published book. Increasingly, this is becoming a viable option. HOWEVER, do not self-publish if you haven’t taken to heart what publishers have said and haven’t incorporated their critiques. Hone your craft. Study it. Get a professional editor after having a good critique group tear the work apart. Get beta readers.

Once assured you have a good work, consider self-publishing.

Yet, if you’ve done the above, re-submit. I don’t remember how many times the Harry Potter series had been rejected.

Could you change genres? I write women’s fiction, and the market seems to be small with this one. One friend changed from writing spec to writing romance. Her career has exploded. Thomas Nelson took her on and gave her a three-book contract (on any idea she had), and her agent is working through several potential movie offers.

Mostly, God will use your writing to teach you humility—even if you become a best-seller. Read the one-star reviews popular author’s get.

If God is telling you to write, if you cannot quit, if the writing bug keeps biting, keep writing. (Do you see a parallel to Dr. King’s periodic sentence in his “I Have a Dream” speech? I had mercy and made it shorter.)

Tell us about the featured book.

The extremes of anything are always in error. This concept is a tenet of my belief system. Extreme conservatives are as closed minded as extreme liberals. Our preconceived notions always deceive us. Thus was born my liberal, atheistic protagonist—the famous artist Kiara.

Her only hope when she finds herself on Stinking Creek, Tennessee, is an extremely rule-ridden Christian, Delia Mae “Lia” McGuffrey. Neither can find freedom without the other.

NOTHING GOOD COMES FROM STINKING CREEK

Alone, again, after the death of her fiancé, abstract artist Kiara Rafferty finds herself on Stinking Creek, Tennessee. She wants out of this hillbilly backwater, where hicks speak an unknown language masquerading as English. Isolated, if she doesn’t count the snakes and termites infesting her cabin, only a one-way ticket home to Manhattan would solve her problems.

Alone in a demanding crowd, Delia Mae McGuffrey lives for God, her husband, her family, and the congregation of her husband’s church. Stifled by rules, this pastor’s wife walks a fine line of perfection, trying to please them all. Now an atheist Yankee, who moved in across the road, needs her, too.

Two women. Two problems. Each holds the key to the other’s freedom.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Like a bomb, Kiara’s world detonated and dumped her back in time to a stinking cabin on Stinking Creek. It might as well have been an explosion rather than a long cab ride that rattled her brain like mortar fire—or a ride on the A train.

Kiara’s eyes strained through the darkness, illuminated only from the taxi’s headlights. A log cabin looking like it was chinked with mud rose before her. Bryce, why did you call this place a haven?

“The far’s one-hundred-twenty.” The cabbie’s gravelly voice jarred her. “We’ll skip the cents seein’ as I ain’t gonna fuss with change at midnight.”

Kiara twisted the ring on her left index finger. One-twenty? I thought Manhattan cabbies gouged.

The driver jumped out of the taxi, popped the trunk, and grabbed her luggage. He plopped her bags on the front porch. The simple wooden structure stood no more than a foot off the ground. The rough planks disappeared into the gloom around the far side of the cabin.

“The far don’t include the tip.” The driver grinned. His face, lit by the taxi’s headlights looked like a kid holding a flashlight to his face to scare his friends around a campfire. Creepy.

She fished through her handbag and pulled out her wallet. Hopefully, the local taxis would be cheaper. A chirruping filled the air interspersed with a loud croaking. Manhattan was noisy, but this?

“What’s making the racket?” She waved her hand—the one grasping the fare.

The cabbie slanted his head and listened. “What? Them insects?”

“They’re bugs?” Visions of cockroaches scurrying across her floor in her Manhattan condo scuttled through her imagination. She wouldn’t survive these hills.

“They’re katydids. ‘Bout ready to die off for the season. The loud croakin’—them’s tree frogs.”

Katydids? Frogs living in trees? Kiara shuddered and handed the cabbie a hundred-dollar bill and a fifty. “Keep the change.” She turned her eyes back to the cabin, and her heart wrung out more misery. “Thank you.”

She fumbled for her key—the one Bryce had made a year ago when they bought this place. The key, splashed in different colors like a Kandinsky painting created while on LSD, swirled in a wild mix of pink and turquoise and yellow creating an abstract design. She had laughed out loud when he presented it to her as though he were giving her the keys to Windsor Castle.

“The cabin’s in your name, alone, my cherry-haired leprechaun.” He bent and kissed the whorls of hair she’d just begun training into dreadlocks. “Amanda won’t be able to lay her hands on it.” His eyes had danced with joy. “When we marry, we’ll have a retreat like Yaddo. A place for all artists—writers and photographers and sculptors—”

Interesting! How can readers find you on the Internet?

I’d love to connect via my website and a sign-up for my weekly blog and occasional newsletter. You can find this at http://www.CarolMcClain.com

I’m active on facebook. https://www.facebook.com/carol.d.mcclain

https://www.facebook.com/author.Carol.McClain/

On twitter: @carol_mcclain

On Instagram: carol_mcclain

If readers live overseas, I will send out an ebook. Those in the States will get a paperback.

Thank you, Carol, for sharing this boo with my blog readers and me. I’m eager to read it. I’m sure they are, too.

Readers, here are links to the book.

A New York Yankee on Stinking Creek - Paperback
A New York Yankee on Stinking Creek - Kindle

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link:

Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com

THE POISON WE DRINK - Carol McClain - One Free Book

Welcome back, Carol. God has really been moving in your writing life. What do you see on the horizon?

As a writer, I always hope my work will be a success. I pray the truths of my themes will encourage my readers. If I move my readers into another world and help them escape for a few hours, and if my themes resonate, I'll be happy.

Tell us a little about your family.

I've lived in Tennessee for 18 months, and it's the best move my hubby, Neil, and I have made in the twelve years we've been married. The only drawback is it's far from our families in New York and Massachusetts.

Has your writing changed your reading habits? If so, how?

Sadly, it has. I'm not reading as much for pleasure any longer. I do reviews and critiques and read to support author friends. Between that and my stained glass interests, books read for the pure joy of reading have slipped in the hierarchy.

When I pick up a book for pleasure, I'm still reading more as a reviewer asking myself how I can grow from what I'm reading. It is a drawback in being an author.

When I try to read for pleasure, if I’m able to turn off my internal editor, I know it’s a very good story. What are you working on right now?

I've returned to my first love—humor. My brother recently entered his second marriage with a widow. They have the craziest family—most of whom live with them. Therefore, my newest book, The Honeymoon's Over is exploring the wacky world of late-in-life second marriages. Boy, do we bring baggage into each other's lives. With the Lord—it's all good.

What outside interests do you have?

Outside interests, how do I love thee? My husband constantly tells me to not take on too much—but there's so much to do and life is short.

Taking his advice, three things other than writing dominate my life. I walk and run. God has blessed me physically that in my dotage, I can still run and win races in my age category.

Weekly, three friends and I hike in the Smokies or the Cumberland Plateau. What an amazing world our Lord and Savior has created. My buddies and I move slowly because the tiniest of wildflowers or the grandest of waterfalls leaves us spellbound.

Finally, I love all things glass and create stained glass. Every evening, you'll find me in my studio cutting my fingers and burning my favorite sweater as I cut and solder my creations. The first day of creation in Genesis is my favorite. When God said, "Let there be light" He knew glass was coming. The play of light through glass mesmerizes me more than diamonds.

How do you choose your settings for each book?

Setting is about the only thing, aside from theme, where I employ that writer's rule "write what you know." Most of my settings are upstate New York or Long Island where I've lived most of my life.

Recently, I moved to Tennessee. My next novel will be A New York Yankee in Stinking Creek. I want to play up the contrast of the liberal NYC stained glass artist with the slower, more cordial Tennessean. A town near where I live is named Stinking Creek—one of the coolest names I know.

It'll be a take on Twain's famous Connecticut Yankee. However, my hillbilly Southerners will show miss modern city gal what life is really all about.

If you could spend an evening with one historical person, who would it be and why?

The judge Deborah. Living in a patriarchal society and being a leader of her people, Deborah demonstrated that women can take leadership roles. They can teach men. They can have lives beyond the home. I love her spunk and intelligence and ability to fight for right.

Most of my life I'd been a single mother. I had to take on roles not typically given women. Furthermore, God gave me the gift of teaching. Because of that, I love Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth. It's especially intriguing to me that the husband, here, is only an aside (not that my darling hubby of a dozen years is an aside).

What is the one thing you wish you had known before you started writing novels?

How to write.

Seriously. That's my answer.

I blithely began writing my poems, plays, short stories believing I was the next Sue Monk Kidd. Then I found good critique partners, began meeting with agents and editors and learned the sorry truth: I needed to figure out this writing thing.

With each novel, I've grown. I read in my free time, mostly studying what the author has done right and what she's done that annoys me. In my own writing, I try for the former and hope to ignore the latter.

Perhaps someday I'll earn the Pulitzer. Until then, I'll study.

What new lessons is the Lord teaching you right now?

He's teaching me that I'm redeemed without having to earn it. Sounds basic, doesn't it? Somewhere deep in my psyche, I have a hard time believing this.

To help myself and others, my blog is devoted to what I've learned in overcoming my perfectionism and in understanding the pure, simple, unadulterated truth of the gospel: I am redeemed—no strings attached.

What are the three best things you can tell other authors to do to be successful?

First: Get a good critique partner—someone who is honest and kind and unafraid of telling you the truth. You may need to move around to several people, but the partner must be honest. That honesty must be tempered with respect.

Second: Understand no matter how good you are or what awards you may garner, you must constantly strive to improve. You don't have it all together, don't know it all. Have a thick skin, take criticism and grow from it. Criticism more than praise is your best friend.

Finally: Understand in this competitive and shrinking market, authors will be asked to do more than write. Unless you become like Ted Dekker or Nora Roberts, your name is not going to sell the book. You will have to promote it, set up book signings, find promotional sites online, and shell out your meager income to advertise. These venues will be your responsibility—not your agent's or your publisher's.

And Fourth: (Yes, we were only supposed to have three—but this is a freeby) Have fun. Do what you love and the three pieces of advice will be enjoyable.

Tell us about the featured book.

Freedom comes only by forgiving the unforgiveable.

Twenty-four-year-old hairdresser Torie Sullivan has given up on life. When her boyfriend betrays her, she careens her car into a ditch in a drunken fury.

After paramedic Adam Benedict rescues Torie from her mangled car, he learns she's the middle school bully who brutalized him. A week later, he discovers she lives in a lean-to in Hookskill Nature Preserve. Despite his hatred, his innate compassion won't allow him to leave Torie in the wilds. He offers her a room in his miniscule cabin.

After Torie's first night at Adam's, tragedy strikes his life, and he can no longer house her. His girlfriend, Maya Vitale takes Torie in. Though first-grade teacher Maya's past isn't as sinister as Torie's, she, too, hides a shameful secret.

In The Poison We Drink, the lives of three disparate friends collide and reveal the toxic pasts that threaten to poison their lives.

Only by forgiving the unpardonable can they be set free.

This book is available wherever books are sold online.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hujBdc

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2hE0mNh

Please give us the first page of the book.

(Unsaved Torie has broken up with her boyfriend, and is drunk. The barkeep tries to keep her from driving but she refuses to listen. This is where this excerpt picks up).

She snatched the keys from the blacktop as Collin exited The Stadium. He loped down the steps and banged at her passenger window.

"If you drive away, I'm calling the cops."

The glow from the streetlight haloed Collin, like an angel. If angels existed.

"Torie, no man is worth it. Consider AA. You don't have to be like your mother."

She bit her lip. Mumbled. "I'm not like Jean."

Tears threatened, but she wouldn't be a cry baby. Hadn't cried since middle school when...  She clenched her teeth and inhaled, let the air fill her lungs. Her mother thrived on self-pity and man-lust. Not her.

With an exhale, Torie pulled away from the curb. Behind her, brakes squealed, and a horn blared. She stepped on the gas, peered into the rearview mirror, and let the black SUV eat her dust.

"I don't need no cab," she told Collin as though he sat beside her. "I'm cool and in control..."

...Speed, and anger at Collin, lost their magic. Collin had been a friend – sometimes stern, but always fair. Her eyes watered.

The real culprits resurrected – Selene and Trey. The imprint of Trey's hand on her wrist, inviting her into his bed still burned like a brand. Lying next to him, Selene smirked. Her friend knew Torie loved Trey – the first man she dared to not simply date, but to love.

It did no good. He preferred her fat friend. Her stunning, voluptuous, charismatic, sarcastic best friend. Torie's fingers dug into the steering wheel.

Her stomach tossed. She had scruples. Unlike Jean. Unlike everyone else. Still, the treachery of the two people she trusted most rushed back and blinded her. Collin's rot-gut booze failed her. Her memories remained raw.

Collin was right. She ruined every one of her friendships. Maybe she was—

Her eyes blurred, and her nose ran. Her thought would stay unspoken. Torie fished through her Kate Spade purse for tissues then tossed it to the back seat. Her iPhone fell to the floor. Contorting her arm behind the console, Torie attempted to retrieve the phone.

The car hurled itself to the right. The crunch of the shoulder gave way to the bumpy grass. It caught the tires and yanked her down a steep slope. The headlights illuminated tree branches as they grabbed the car, rasped their fingers along its sides as though shoving her down the slope until spider webs of pain showered over her. The Rabbit slammed into a stone wall.

Wow! I can hardly wait to see what happens next. How can readers find you on the Internet?

You can find me on my blog which explores overcoming perfectionism and the freedom of redemption.

http://carol-mcclain.blogspot.com

Thank you, Carol, for sharing this book with me and my readers. I know they are as eager as I am to read the rest of the story.

Readers, leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Google+, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link:

Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com

WATERS OF SEPARATION - Carol McClain - One Free Boook

Welcome back, Carol. Why do you write the kind of books you do?

I love words and the images they create. I love the sound of language. Even as a teen, I’d answer test essays so that their cadences sounded pleasant to me. The flow of language was as important as a correct answer.

Romance and problems of everyday life intrigue me, too. With these two elements, I gravitate to women’s fiction—both to read and to write.

Besides when you came to know the Lord, what is the happiest day in your life?

To pick the happiest is impossible. The day I knew I had conceived tops the list, as does the day I held my daughter in my arms. Then again, grandchildren are the sweet revenge grandparents have on their children, and recently we had an unexpected bundle of energy born to us. Marrying my husband tops the list.

God’s blessed me in so many ways, it’s impossible to pick one day.

How has being published changed your life?

It’s made me busier, and sadly, it seems I write less of what I love because promotion becomes an issue. I spend more time on publicity and blog writing than on dreaming.

However, published or not, I’ve loved the connection with fellow writers. I belong to two great crit groups. Conferences become class reunions as I meet all my cyber-writing friends. This writing world has broadened my base of friendships.

What are you reading right now?

I just finished Girl on the Train. It was a wonderful book that kept me guessing until the very last moment. The book on my bedside table now is Long for the Bomb: Oak Ridge and Atomic Nostalgia.

My reading tastes are eclectic. We moved close to Oak Ridge, and the history of my locales fascinate me.

What is your current work in progress?

In Her Defense is the working title. It’s a clash between a public defender and a district attorney and their families and clients. It is women’s fiction, but this one has a heavy dose of romance, as my first novel DWF: Divorced White Female did. In In Her Defense, the wayward daughter of the DA causes an accident that confines the mother of Birdie Swanson—the protagonist—to her daughter’s home. As a public defender, Birdie has to find a way to care for a mother who can’t return to her Minnesota home. On top of this, Birdie must deal with oddball clients, deal with the DA, and stay sane.

It’s a humorous novel influenced by my dear friend and public defender, Claire Knittel who is guiding me through the public defender process.

Because of this book, I got to watch a murder tried in my former hometown of Malone, NY. Unfortunately, Claire lost the case.

However, my DA friend won. So for me—win-win.

What would be your dream vacation?

A safari with a side trip to the cocoa farms of the Ivory Coast. I’d love to see the big animals of Africa and experience the culture of the Ivory Coast where my newest release, Waters of Separation, is set for half the story.

How do you choose your settings for each book?

It’s a pretty organic process. For DWF: Divorced White Female, my debut novel, I kept the setting in my hometown. I figured if Jodie Piccoult can set hers in New Hampshire, or Lisa Scottaline in Philadelphia because these authors live there, then so could I. After all, someday I’ll be as well-known as Lisa Scottaline.

In Waters of Separation, I had to choose Africa for half of it because it deals with child labor in the cacao sector. We get most of our chocolate from the Ivory Coast. The American portions of the book were set where I grew up on Long Island because of the State Hospital and the currents off the Nissequogue River, both elements essential to the plot.

My last book, unpublished, is in a Rensselaerville, NY knock-off because I love that area of New York, and I needed a rural setting to make the plot work.

If you could spend an evening with one person who is currently alive, who would it be and why?

Does it have to be one person? If not, my former church mates from Lifeway Community Church in Northern New York. We moved to Tennessee at the beginning of June, and I desperately miss them. These folks supported my writing, my move, and my life. Together we celebrated Super Bowls and the Fourth of July and picnics after church. We shared Christmases and Easter and communion. And they all bought my first book!

What are your hobbies, besides writing and reading?

With this question and me—this blog could be very long. Currently, I’m obsessed with stained glass making. I scrapbook, as well. I play the bassoon, garden, run, and kayak. And my secret passion: watching American Ninja Warriors.

What is your most difficult writing obstacle, and how do you overcome it?

Currently, that obstacle is summer. No matter how determined I get, summer comes, and I can’t write a word. If you read the answers to #9, you can see that a lot of what I love is summer oriented. Plus, I’ve always lived a distance from my family, so it’s a time of family visits.

I can’t really overcome it. People would be angry with me if I outlawed summer. I end up overcoming by writing extra over the winter.

What advice would you give to a beginning author?

Several things: believe the advice of good critique partners. Some people are hyper-critical, and you’ll identify them soon enough. Ignore those. Use overly-negative comments for thickening your skin. For the others, take their advice, incorporate it and grow. When your book is published, you can’t change things in it any more. And believe me, even after 57.5 revisions, you’ll still want to make changes.

The second thing is not to quit. The temptation to chuck it and join the Benedictine monks instead will be strong. Don’t do it. Go to conferences, connect with others. If book one doesn’t do it, put it aside and book two or three or four may. The publishing world is replete with famous authors, like Stephen King, who nearly quit, but the last attempt catapulted their careers.

Tell us about the featured book.

Africa’s secrets resurrect the despair physician assistant Anna Haas buried in America. Her pregnancy and the discovery of boys bound by slavery in the cacao sector of the Côte d’Ivoire revive her childhood guilt. Her mother’s suicide claimed the lives of the two small sisters Anna had vowed to protect.

Her failure to save them was unforgivable.

It will not happen with these boys.

Her interference prompts a corrupt government to threaten the thriving mission and the lives of Anna and her friends. Her action also threatens her marriage.

However, doing nothing will destroy her.

The story weaves from past to present and across two continents as Anna fights for love, faith, and redemption.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Côte d'Ivoire

...Anna Haas’s hand dropped to her own stomach, and she shivered. Was she ready? She shelved her fear, and focused on enjoying a walk with Essi. "Everything's perfect. Come on. I'll walk with you a little." Anna stifled a yawn. "Then I'm catching a nap. This heat has turned my eyelids to lead." She tugged her blouse, damp with sweat and humidity, away from her. "Even though it's the afternoon, I'm putting on my nightgown."

They giggled and chatted until they reached the village crossroads. It veered off the piste Essi normally used, but today, instead of following the narrow path, Essi planned to meet with her village friends. Anna hugged her good-bye and leaned against a banana tree while Essi waddled toward the village proper.

Here the village cacao farms, matted with cassava plants and banana trees, melded with the forest. The cacao trees reminded her of the white birch at home, the bark gray and black, the boles small enough for her to encircle with her hands.

However, the cacao pods were the real oddities. The size of over-ripe acorn squash, colored green or a maroonish red, flecked with brown, they resembled rippled footballs clinging to the sides of trees. They didn't hang, like fruit back home, off branches, hidden in the leaves, but right on the trunks.

She wanted to linger, to savor the flawless beauty, cherish the culmination of the lifelong dream of exploring Africa that she and her father had shared.

Children squealed as her husband let them out of the school for recess. Piping voices sliced through the forest, out-shrieking the monkeys. Their voices like her sisters' had been.

Her sisters.

Lately, their memory dogged her. They had shared the dream of Africa, too—or at least Camille had.

She pushed away the thoughts along with the strands of her hair clinging to the sweat on her face. Her hair, caught up in a ponytail, gave her a headache. Besides making her dizzy, the humidity must have added a pound to her hair. She wanted to shave her head.

With her eyes heavy with fatigue, she turned toward her home when her name rang out.

She turned, shaded her eyes against the mid-day glare.

"Madame Docteur! Aidez-nous."

She squinted down the trailhead. Ibraham? She craned her neck, her mouth opened in concentration as he ran toward her. He carried someone.

Kwame?

Blood like a tribal scar smeared Ibraham's face, stained his chest and darkened his shorts—the blood already a copperish brown. Her hand flew to her throat, and she forgot to breathe. Only a little boy. Were both hurt? The Burkinabé teen moved too fast to be wounded. Surely all that blood didn't come from Kwame...?

Interesting. How can readers find you on the Internet?

On facebook: carol.d.mcclain

On twitter: @carol_mcclain

Bog: http://carol-mcclain.blogspot.com

Website: www.carolmcclain/wix.com/author

On goodreads

And my books can be found on the Desert Breeze website or the usual places books can be found online: Barnes and Noble, Amazon, etc.

Thank you, Carol, for sharing this new book with us. I never knew how cacao grew on the tree. I'm eager to read this book. I know my readers are, too.

Readers, here’s a link to the book. By using it when you order, you help support this blog.

Waters of Separation

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 4 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Google+, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link:
Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com

DWF: Divorced White Female - Carol McClain - One Free Book

Dear Readers, I’ve become friends with Carol through American Christian Fiction Writers and Christian Authors Network. I’m thrilled to share her and her debut novel with you today.

Welcome, Carol. Tell us how much of yourself you write into your characters.

I met my husband online, thus my life became the genesis of Cheryl Chandler in DWF: Divorced White Female. Additionally, I set the novel in my hometown of Malone, New York with Cheryl living "up" south in Mountain View. I figured, if Lisa Scottoline can set her works in Philadelphia, her hometown, I can do the same.

Aside from those two issues, I was going to say that not much of me goes into the characters. I then remembered Cheryl's sarcasm. Yep, I guess a lot of me is birthed into my work. Friends say this novel is definitely my voice.

What is the quirkiest thing you have ever done?

I'm not sure you can call it quirky, but I taught high ropes at our local 4-H camp. Along with most of the world, I love the zip line. However, the Flying Squirrel is infinitely easier to get into. In this particular activity, the participant is harnessed into the line and then tethered to a team of runs. She scampers in one direction while the team jogs off in another. Before she knows it, she's flying. She has virtually no choice in taking off--doesn't see it coming, doesn't have to decide to leap. After I--um, she--screams herself mute, she savors the beauty of the world beneath her wings. The freedom of the skies delights me.

Years ago, Carol. I was the 4-H Program Assistant for the county in Texas where we lived.  Both of my girls were in 4-H. When did you first discover that you were a writer?

I'm not a typical writer. I wasn't born with a pencil in hand, didn't scribble stories before I learned the alphabet. However, my mother birthed a dreamer greater than Joseph of the Technicolor Dream Coat fame. I day dreamed my life away, invented all sorts of adventures in my head and usually made my friends act out my dramas (always dramas back then). At times, I forced doting parents to pay a nickel to watch us act them out.

As an adult, I wrote Sunday school plays. It wasn't until my forties that I thought I could possibly write a book. And I did. DWF: Divorced White Female is my debut novel.

Tell us the range of the kinds of books you enjoy reading.

The only books I don't read are the demon-possession ones like The Exorcist. They scare the sanity out of me. Aside from that--bring them on. Cozy mysteries? I've finally figured out how to figure them out. The character mentioned once did it. Suspense? I'll read into the night and then curse the author for not letting me get any sleep. Biographies? You read the part of this interview that says I'm a dreamer, didn't you? I become the subject of the bio.

Hands down, my favorites are contemporary, and those with a literary bent. I spent most of my life as an English teacher, so those works must be part of my DNA.

How do you keep your sanity in our run, run, run world?

I run. Literally. One day, after a stressful day in school, I knew I had to do something or break. I strapped on my sneakers (I didn't realize we now called them running shoes) headed out the door and ran until my lungs gave out--two or three yards? I did it over and over and felt all the stress ooze down to my feet and out onto the tarmac.

Since then I've run four marathons and written four novels. Running saved my sanity.

As I age, though, yoga is another stress reliever--especially savasana (corpse pose: one simply lies down, empties her brain and enjoys the benefits of having been twisted into a pretzel for the previous hour).

How do you choose your characters’ names?

I eavesdrop. Sometimes a name grabs me and I use it. I've used a fake name generator for lesser characters. Cheryl Chandler got her name because a colleague who was Cheryl's age had her first name. I hadn't read any other books with a Cheryl, so it was unique. I figured a forty-year-old wouldn't be named Tiffany or Kaylie, so my protag became Cheryl.

A lot of names suggest themselves. Cheryl's kids all have androgynous names. That decision came probably more for a challenge for myself and became a symbol of her independence when she names her surprise-baby Marina--a pure, unmistakable girl name that reminds her of marinara sauce. Her ex-husband's new wife is saddled with more unisex names.

What is the accomplishment that you are most proud of?

Neil, my husband, says it's marrying him. And yes, he's living proof that online dating works.

I think my biggest accomplishment was becoming a teacher. Then again, it wasn't my accomplishment, it was purely God's.

During my last year of college I screwed up with drugs. In my addle-brained mind, I believed I ruined my life, would never have children, and no one would love (so thus, marrying Neil is probably my biggest accomplishment). Because of my mental turmoil, I screwed up student teaching, ruined my academic records and my chance of becoming a teacher.

After graduation, I married the wrong man who gave me the right baby when we moved to the country in upstate New York. I decided to try teaching again. With a failing marriage, a ten-month-old daughter, God opened the doors for me to teach Spanish for a year (I had only two college years of the lingo). I enrolled in graduate school, worked insanely, got my masters and a full-time teaching job in my current hometown of Malone.

For thirty-years I developed my craft. The best moments of my life is meeting former students who tell me about the positive effect my love had on their lives.

(I try to forget the ones who hate me.)

It was hard. I didn't know Jesus, but my brother Art did. Probably because of his incessant preaching, I knew, for a fact, Jesus got me into this field, the one I was born to do.

I love to hear real stories of how Jesus redeemed someone from a life of failure. Thanks for sharing that. If you were an animal, which one would you be, and why?

A cat in a doting household. We just got two kittens, and their lives are perfect. They play for hours, heedless of curtains or decorations, or the fact that our toes are attached to our bodies by nerves that hurt. They romp where they will. Then they sleep. A lot. They get cuddled, curl between our legs at night. Who wouldn't want that life?

I do NOT want to be a stray or feral. Yuck.

What is your favorite food?

Peanut butter. Cannot go a day without chunky peanut butter.

What is the problem with writing that was your greatest roadblock, and how did you overcome it?

I haven't overcome my greatest problem. Through the help of good critique partners, I've learned to show and not tell, learned to dive into the emotions of characters and make things worse for them. However, my greatest issue seems to be the muddled middle--especially in sub-plots. Once things begin to resolve, I tire of them and just want to get it done, get to the conclusion. This especially applies to the romantic elements. Once everyone knows said hero and heroine will get together, why draw it out?

Tell us about the featured book.

If you think you’ve experienced a mid-life crisis, Cheryl Chandler will prove you wrong. Ditched by a philandering husband, rearing three weird teens (and a toddler—her failed attempt to save her marriage), she knows only one thing will redeem her life: a man—any man so long as he’s hot.

But how does a forty-something divorcée do that?

The kids have the answer. Go online.

After meeting a string of weirdoes, Tarrant LeClerc befriends her. But he’s too religious, and she will only chat with him as a friend.

Then, when she knows this online dating is doomed, she meets the man of her dreams. Smart, witty and enchanting, Carleton Seymour sweeps her off her feet, but he’s got to meet the kids. Cheryl refuses to hide them—although the thought is tempting.

DWF: Divorced White Female, will make you laugh and come away transformed and transported by Cheryl’s antics.

It’s available at:

Amazon at: www.amzn.to/1wkUlp1  

Desert Breeze Publishing at: www.bit.ly/1zoeixz

Barnes and Noble at: www.bit.ly/1wno80d

Currently, the print copy is only available on Amazon.

Please give us the first page of the book.

Chapter One

The EPT

I slumped onto my bathroom floor, closed my eyes, and imagined myself in Versace sunglasses with a .357 Magnum. I'd hunt down Martin, blow the heat from my gun, stash it in my charcoal grey, Burberry trench coat, and ride off with a Clint Eastwood look alike. After the deed was done, I'd celebrate with a magnum of champagne. Or a Magnum ice cream.

Yep. That would be one solution.

Not the answer to this one.

With new resolve, I picked up the stick and squinted.

Blue lines. They didn't change color. My bluster slipped away like smoke from the snub nosed .357.

"Holy Toledo."

I didn't use those exact words. I didn't actually bless any Ohio city or anything else. My language that morning was as blue as the lines on the EPT stick.

I thought I had passed the pregnancy phase and blissfully entered menopause -- my golden years of bridge games and cruises and cocktail parties. The kids could care for themselves. Sort of.

At last, Taylor had abandoned his dreadlock-headed punk phase and would start high school this fall. My daughter Bobbie still proved labor intensive, but at least Andi had completed her first year at North Country Community College.

Correction. In college, but not settled. What was she studying? Massage therapy. As a high school senior, she applied for the music therapy program, then switched into art therapy last year. Now this. All this time, I had thought massage was a euphemism for prostitution. Weren't TV cops always apprehending sexy, skinny, beautiful masseuses -- girls not unlike Andi, despite her purple, spiky hair? I learned to deal with her vegetarianism, her Indian Ying/Yang whatever, but a career rubbing bodies? Would a cop one day come knocking at my door and arrest my daughter for massaging pervs?

Despite his obsession with religion, I still feared the cops with Taylor. With McIntyre out of the picture and Jesus in it, maybe we cleared that hurdle. Despite Taylor's religious kick, he acted normal again. He went to school, did his homework, visited friends, wanted to be a forensic computer specialist. Insisted we say grace.

Or as normal as a fourteen-year-old boy with an obsession for Jesus could be.

Obsessions.

My whole family was obsessed. Or possessed.

With worries about my children, tears flooded once more. I leaned against the wall and cried. I didn't bother to break the toilet paper off the roll, just pulled the thin, cottony sheets like one of those old towel rollers in public restrooms my mother told me about. You'd pull the cloth towel, which would go around and around in circles, recycling the same two feet of yucky material. If luck found you, a semi-clean, semi-dry bit of cloth would materialize, and you could dry your hands.

If my youngest daughter Bobbie encountered a recycled towel, she'd bathe in Betadine for a week...

A very good example of your writing voice. How can readers find you on the Internet?

You can find Carol McClain at http://carol-mcclain.blogspot.com

On facebook at www.facebook.com/carol.d.mcclain

On twitter at @carol_mcclain. She can also be found on google+

Thank you, Carol for sharing this book with me and my readers. I know we're all wondering what is going to happen next.

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