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Hello everyone, today I have Beth Carter on my blog with her release, Recover Me. She shares a little humorous story that helped her in writing this particular book. Let's read what she shares....
I live in Nevada, and this beautiful state has amazing places to explore and hike, with many trails going through mountains and over desert terrain. It also has over a hundred ghost towns. With the rich history of silver and gold mining here, it’s considered one of the most haunted states in America. Several locations have been featured on the Travel Channel show Ghost Adventures, including one place in Tonopah, Nevada….the Clown Motel.
My boyfriend, Mike, and I decided to visit and explore Tonopah at the end of 2016, and we started at the visitors center. I really had no idea how entrenched in the mining history this town was until I sat watching a short film about its history. That’s where I got the idea of setting Recover Me in the early 1900’s, at the start of Tonopah’s glorious rise in the gold and silver mining that eventually produced over $250,000,000 in precious metals.
Going that day to explore Tonopah gave me the back drop for my story, Recover Me, and we also visited that Clown Motel. Yes, it’s creepy and to top it off…it’s right next to a cemetery.
OMG, Beth. I loved the Ghost Adventures, and I remember the Clown Motel. It freaked Zak out! Share with us the back cover blurp and an excerpt from the story. I can tell you already, I love the man on this banner....
Evie Duncan’s dreams are slowly taking over her life. Every night she falls in love with the man invading her subconscious, playing out scenes from a past life. It becomes harder and harder to wake and leave her dream man behind.
Bishop Kain has devoted his life to protecting crime boss Sherman Groto, but when he spots Evie at an underground fight, all he can think about is her. He tries to keep his distance, but like a moth to a flame, she’s a siren he can’t resist.
Danger is coming for Evie and her salvation lies somewhere in the truth of her past life. If Bishop can save her, he may be the one man who can bring her into the light…and for once, she might be willing to stay there.
As she threaded her way through the thick throng of bodies, a tingling awareness danced over her skin. The last time she’d experienced such a weird feeling, she’d slipped off a cliff and ended up in a hospital. Deciding to be cautious, she stopped and turned in a slow circle to study the people around her. As if an invisible hand guided her, Evie looked to her left.
A man moved through the crush of people, parting them as if he were Moses at the Red Sea. He was a complete stranger, and she had never seen him before, yet there was something about him that sparked a familiarity. She pushed forward, trying to get through the dense crowd to get a better view of his face. His height worked to her advantage because she was able to easily follow, but she halted once she saw him going up a set of concrete stairs guarded by a few big burly men. For a split second, he turned her way. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and every fiber of her being wanted … needed … to touch him, but he disappeared out of sight. She searched the second level until he came into view once more, and she was able to breathe again.
He was here. He was real!
Subtle changes made this John a little different. A tad taller, which said something because he’d been tall in her dream world. Fantasy John had held a quiet strength that made people respect him. This John was so heavily muscled, with an aura of danger swirling around him, that people instinctively moved out of his path, giving him a wide berth. He had a militaristic look, with blunt-cut dark hair and a rigid posture any soldier would be envious of, but something told her he hadn’t been in any branch of service. She stared at him, unblinking, until he suddenly looked down and their gazes met.
The saliva dried up in her mouth as her heart thundered with a mixture of excitement and happiness. Any doubts she might have had about his identity disappeared instantly as the gossamer threads between them solidified. The people, the fight … everything disappeared, leaving them the only two people in the world. Curiosity filled his face. She reached out a hand but was bumped by someone walking by, abruptly pulling her out of the dream-like trance. She blinked and he was gone.
This story sounds great and I've just added it to my TBR list. I hope you have great success with it. Can we get a little information about you?
Beth D. Carter grew up in Missouri and began writing at a very young age after being influenced by her mother's very naughty romance novels.
I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. Music inspires me and each story has their own signature song.
I am a full time writer and stay at home mom which means I watch a lot of animated movies. Over and over again. I hate washing dishes but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes but I love wearing them. Writing my bio is difficult because I never know what to say so I hope you like this one. My favorite color is red but I look best in black (it's slimming). I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, people who don't use turn signals, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form. And although I love holding a book in my hand, I absolutely adore my ereader, whom I've named Ruby. So many books at the touch of a button! I love to hear from readers so I've made it really easy to find me on Facebook or Twitter or email me at: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Amazon author page:
I remember when my nephew was a young boy, we watched Shreik and the Transformers every day, like, forever. LOL. Thanks for stopping by Beth, and I enjoyed reading your post.
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