HB: Yeah. It’s all for the food. The author shares their published work or something from whatever they’re working on. And we get some really good nosh.
SPAL: ***rolls his eyes*** Do you ever stop thinking about food?
HB: ***smiles*** Never.
SPAL: Anyway, before Lena Winfrey stops by we’re doing a giveaway.
HB: Yeah. It’s something that you two-legged-no-fur-peeps love.
SPAL: Yes. We are giving away The Great White Watery Abyss of torture along with a few torture tools.
HB: Yeah. This is what we endured yesterday.
SPAL: I just don’t understand why you two-legged-no-fur-peeps think this is great. But anyway since you do let us know in the comment box below if you’d like your name thrown into the drawing. We’re looking forward to giving this away.
SPAL: Now that we’ve taken care of this, we’d like to introduce you to Lena Winfrey.
HB: Hey nice, lady ! What did you bring us…I mean what do you like to nosh on when you're writing? Tell us why you like it.
LW: It depends on my mood and what I’m writing. Also, if I’m extremely involved in a manuscript and things are flowing well, then I sometimes forget to eat, until I actually start having a growling stomach. Serious! But when I’m formulating a strategy or just find myself in need of a snack I will eat either crunchy carrots, peanuts or nacho chips. But usually I tend to go sweet and prefer something with chocolate, especially if I feel bit drained. I enjoy dark chocolate the most, and I try to go with bite size ones always to control the portion size. And when I want to rehydrate I might drink 100% juice; pure is always better. And if I need something to pick me up, then I drink a cup of Nescafe coffee (mostly 0% milk with a teaspoon of instant coffee). Occasionally, I might forget about monitoring my diet and just eat something ‘devilishly delicious’!
HB: Oh… this is good. Carrots, peanuts, and nachos. Chocolate and coffee. Did you bring us any?
SPAL: Tell us, nice lady. Do these foods get your creative juices flowing?
LW: The food doesn’t really give me a creative spark, but what it does it either relax me or give me a jolt of energy that helps me in the creative process. I don’t depend on food for this creativity. If I’m stuck on something, I might go for a walk, read another book, look an another project I have just to free my mind, or watch a bit of TV. I might even listen to a bit of music. Once I relax and ponder in my mind the situation, I can usually come up with some strategy. Sometimes I solve these issues in my sleep and awaken with new ideas.
HB: Food sparks me right up. It gets me thinking how I can get more.
SPAL: ***he elbows HB***Sh! ***he looks at Lena and smiles***Do you have any published books out there? If so, what are they? Where can we find them?
In Spring 2011, I published The Metamorphosis of a Muslim with IIPH, an overseas publisher. This autobiography discusses my background, my spiritual journey and my world travels through Africa, the Middle East and Asia. It can be found at:
I have been switching over to mostly fiction at the moment though I still keep up with poetry and writing reviews and interviews for fellow authors. I am currently working on two novels and a screenplay adaptation. I also have an original screenplay in the works. My paranormal novel is a bit unique, and it might become a triology. I like to write on a variety of topics, depending upon what I’m passionate about and inspired to write. I still have some non-fiction projects planned for the future.
My blog Pearldrops on the Page was intended as a place to discuss the power of words, inspirational topics and writing. Lately I have featured some of my reviews and interviews with authors. Check it out at: http://PearldropsonthePage.blogspot.com
I would like to share a WIP, especially since it is my first move into fiction as a novel.
Also, I will share an excerpt with you from my paranormal romance that is a WIP (so please excuse the editing for now); it is a story set in the Appalachian Mountain region. I might change the title, but for now I call it Love Rediscovered. It has vampires, werewolves, shape shifters and witches. It also has an amazing love story with obstacles and lots of adventure.
Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Love Rediscovered:
“Damn, I must be crazy to go back,” muttered Clara to herself. “Why? Why is this so important to me? What do I expect out of this trip?”
Clara Walker had spent years trying to escape her past. She left her hometown, changed her Southern accent and tried to become someone else. She had concentrated on her career. Yet, as she grew older, she sought her origins. She needed her roots. She had other reasons to return; maybe she should stay away because of the pain, but she was also drawn to Bluefield, Virginia.
Clara drove her silver Mercedes C Class that she had inherited from her mother around the curves of the mountainous Appalachian Mountain region. She reached the border between North Carolina and Virginia at a place called Fancy Gap on the mountains; she dreaded it even in the daytime. She wanted to avoid traffic, so she left Raleigh at night. The full moon would peak out from the clouds from time to time, but the fog was so intense that she feared she might veer off the road. She prayed silently. She scolded herself for not waiting until morning. Finally, she reached the top and it leveled out. She sighed relief as she stopped off at a gas station to fill up on gas and snacks. She was badly in need of a caffeine fix.
Clara wasn’t in a talkative mood, but the lonely bearded attendant engaged her in conversation. “Where ya headed, missy?”
“Bluefield. I’m on my way for my class reunion.”
“Bluefield? If I wuz you, I wouldn’t go.”
“Why not?” she asked incredulously.
“I’ve heard stories about strange happenin’s there.”
Yeah right. In Bluefield! She recalled the quiet, sleepy town of her childhood.
“Like what?” she asked curiously.
The fearful attendant with saucer eyes leaned over and whispered, “I dun heard some people have gone missin’ while others turned up dead with strange things done to their bodies.”
Clara almost laughed. Evidently, he was either joking with her or lost in a fairytale. Little Bluefield in the heart of the Bible Belt? No way! Albeit she hadn’t been back for a few years, and last time was only to bury her mother. Her father had passed away a couple of years before. Clara was an only child who had inherited their spacious house, yet she left it untouched.
Clara replied to the attendant, “Are you sure these stories are true?”
“Yes, ma’am. I get my news from my CB radio and my truck drivin’ friends. They’re always passin’ through Bluefield. And believe me, they pass through quickly!”
“Well, I’ll take my chances. I grew up there and it used to be a nice place. I’m sure these are just stories.”
“Listen, I’m tellin’ ya to be careful, ‘specially after sunset.”
“Don’t worry. I’m always careful. I took some self-defense classes. If anyone bothers me, I’ll practice on him.”
The attendant finished packing her items into the bag. He slipped in a silver cross as a gift. She later found it in the bag with a small note that said, “Please wear this gift.” For some reason, she actually put it on. It was small and elegant.
Clara continued her journey and almost fell asleep. She tried changing channels on the radio as well as rolling down the windows to feel the nippy fresh air. She passed through Big Walker Mountain tunnel. She often wondered if it had been named after an ancestor of hers. Then, she went through East River Mountain’s tunnel, which used to be one of the first and longest tunnels in the world. She hated going through long tunnels. It made her claustrophobic. She breathed again upon exiting it.
She absorbed the landscape and compared it to her memory. Not much had changed, so far as she could tell, in this small town. Bluefield was a city on the borders of Virginia and West Virginia. She had grown up on the Virginia side and had attended Graham High School.
Her silent musings were broken by the howling of some wolves. Fear leaped into her heart. She had never heard such howling before. She rolled up her windows and turned on the heat. She put on soft music to settle her nerves. The crisp October wind bit sharper than she could remember.
She needed less than three miles to reach her house located in the prestigious Sedgewood area. Her parents were one of the original people to settle in that community. They built a magnificent house, for its time. She wished the road were shorter. She was getting spooked. Of course, it was late, and she had only passed two cars on the way. The town seemed empty. The trees bent under the strong winds as rainbow leaves flew through the air. Bluefield always had the most beautifully painted trees during autumn. Clara felt something eerie, as if someone were watching her.
“Oh, come on Clara!” she chided herself. “Stop being paranoid. You let that old man spook you. Get a grip!”
Clara turned off the radio and continued on in silence. Little did she know, but she was being watched by several people, actually creatures, who had just finished a quarrel on the mountain top.
“She’s here. Finally!” exclaimed a male.
“Are you sure about this? You can’t force her to feel the same,” replied the female.
“Wait and see. You know I always get what I want.”
Clara couldn’t hear the commotion, but two groups had fought and partly because of her. Each party managed to slink back to their lairs. Clara managed to park in front of her house. It seemed strange to say ‘her house.’ She was still trying to get used to the idea that her parents were no longer there. She was hoping they would open the doors and run out to greet her with open arms. Alas, reality slapped her hard as she dug into her purse for her keys. She entered the dark house. She smelled the mustiness as she switched on the light with a little prayer that it still worked. Everything was the way she had left it. She then dead-bolted the door with both locks and carried her suitcase into her old bedroom. She collapsed into bed and decided to deal with everything in the morning.
Thank you very much, SIr Poops and Hair Ball!
SPAL: You’re very welcome. And to all the other peeps, Mummsy’ll be working today so we’ll be back later to answer your comments and draw a name for The Great White Watery Abyss of torture.
HB: Yeah. ***he turns to Lena***Can I have a carrot? I’ll give you this stupid pumpkin. There’s a prize inside. The squeaker.