Monday, September 17, 2012

Monday Blues Promotion September 17th

Here it is once again. Monday. Yay or nay? Well whether you are or aren't happy about it, it's here anyway. Why not spread a little Monday cheer by playing a long with the Monday Blues Promotion. You get a theme, share an excerpt, spread the word...That sounds fun!

Okay, so the rules:

You can post an excerpt, but it must fit into the day's theme. No excerpts should be longer than 750 words.

Leave the title, author name, and buy link if you have. If you don't have a buy link, a website so readers can find you :)


 Fall is in the air. The days are getting shorter, darker earlier, right? So what about using darkness as a theme? Could be a dark time in someone's life, could be that black moment in the story- where everything goes to hell. Come up with something that deals with dark. :)

Let's see em!


  1. Title: Dust Bowl Dreams
    Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
    Buy link and excerpt:

    “Did you decide what you’re going to do?”
    “Yeah,” he said. He’d pondered it a long time, thought about trying to go into Woodward, Ponca City or even Tulsa to find work, but everyone said there weren’t any jobs anywhere. “I’m going to rob banks.”
    Mamie’s pretty blue eyes narrowed and she frowned. “That’s not funny, Henry.”
    “Honey,” he said with all the patience he could summon. “I’m serious.”
    Her freckled skin paled above her light green dress and her lips parted. “Henry, you can’t mean it.”
    “I do. The crop’s gone and without it, I don’t know how Mama can feed the little ones through the winter, let alone pay the mortgage. Eddie’s fifteen so maybe he could earn some money if there were any jobs, but the others are too small. Ain’t any jobs out for a man to make a decent living so I figured if Charley Floyd can do it, so can I.”
    “Applesauce, Henry,” Mamie said. She sounded mad now and he figured she likely was. “You can’t rob banks. It’s wrong. You weren’t raised to be a thief.”
    “No, ma’am,” Henry said. “Daddy raised me to be a farmer, but it didn’t work out. Besides, I don’t plan to rob banks forever…”
    “Because some law man will hunt you down and kill you,” Mamie interrupted with tears in her eyes. He knew she loved him, but God damn it made him feel good when she let it show.
    Henry ignored her and continued, “I’ll retire once I get ahead and go someplace new, California maybe. I’ll take you with me when I go.”
    “You will not!” Tears filled her eyes. “I wish you’d quit this crazy talk. You’re scaring me.”

  2. I'm not yet published, but you can find me at

    Here is an excerpt from Lord Beaumont's Bride where the Lady Serena has decided to tell Lord Beaumont she can't marry him.

    The following morning, rain pelted the windows. The gloom matched Serena’s mood. She’d tossed and turned most of the night with visions of standing distraught before an altar, unable to tell Robert she’d marry him, or him saying he would never love her.
    Tears stung her eyelids as she rang for her maid.
    “Mary, please send a footman to go round to Lord Beaumont’s hotel and ask him to join me in an hour.”
    “Yes, my lady. Do you want breakfast brought to you?”
    Serena’s stomach roiled. “No, I can’t eat right now. I’ll have something later.”
    Mary bobbed a curtsey and left to deliver the message.
    Serena’s heart cracked. With her refusal of marriage, she condemned herself to a solitary life without love and children. Still, a lonely marriage would be far worse. She blinked back tears.

  3. Title: Turn It Up! Love, Life, and Death... Southern Style
    Author: Ron Eckerman, tour manager of Lynyrd Skynyrd, 1976-77
    Available in all digital formats, paperback, and audio book at, and all online booksellers

    I heard a loud explosion on the left side of the plane, followed by a couple of screams and then silence. Looking back over my left shoulder I caught a glimpse of a bright reddish-orange fireball just as it dissipated, leaving a cloud of thick black smoke trailing behind. It was about ten feet in diameter and disappeared completely within seconds. The engine sputtered a couple of times, the propeller spinning sporadically before it locked up. Quickly moving to the other side of the aisle, I squeezed into a space where I could see out of a window on the left side of the cabin. I’m not sure who I was climbing over but they didn’t seem to care. They were staring into space, their eyes already glazed with fear, they’re lips moving in silent prayer. I made it to the window just in time to see a smaller fireball explode from the other engine – both engines had flamed out. The propeller spun sluggishly for a few revolutions and then it too, locked into place. The propellers weren’t spinning… they certainly weren’t propelling; and the cabin lights were flickering on and off, creating this surrealistic “B” horror movie atmosphere. We were quickly losing altitude, and then everything went into slow-motion, the way it happens in the movies, when you get ten different angles of a brief moment that stretches into five minutes. As I glanced around the cabin I captured each of those angles, and they burnt themselves into my brain, never to be forgotten.