Showing posts with label Author D L Jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Author D L Jackson. Show all posts

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Are you prepared for a disaster? Prepper Romances

Veronica Scott sez: Pulled this post from the Archives. Even though the book it was promo-ing was about a tornado disaster, plenty of people have been suffering through ice & snow-related disaster in recent months, so it seemed like something of a timely topic. This post was written by former Contributor  D. L. Jackson:

Are you?

Life has been crazy lately. A lot of what has been going on, has brought me full circle back to a Prepper Romance I wrote called Finding Mercy. Now this was released ( NOTE: in December 2012)., but I’ve had a lot of people asking me lately about the prepper lifestyle and what things they could do to not only prepare for disaster, but how to put away food and prepare for times when money is tight. I’ve also had readers contact me, or comment about things they do to prepare.

If you think about it, our grandparents were doing this in The Great Depression, finding alternate means to feed their families and sustain life on little or no money. But prepping goes deeper than that. It’s having basic first aid and other skills needed to survive a disaster, like the hurricane that moved up the East Coast this past fall. It’s about being ready for anything and having peace of mind, that though you can’t guarantee one hundred percent your family will be safe, you have done everything you can to tip the odds in your favor that everyone will survive.

 In Finding Mercy I have a full community, having suffered the devastation of tornadoes, that pulls together to rebuild after the disaster. In fact, they could be any community in the country (you see this everyday). They are a group that has neighbor helping neighbor, to make their piece of the world a better, safer, and greener place to live.

Today, you’ll see all sorts of television shows and books dedicated to this lifestyle. From shows like The Colony, to specials on Doomsday Preppers. Classes are even springing up around the country to teach you lifesaving skills we’ve lost in a high-tech age. From greener living, to putting away food and water, there is so much you can do to prepare.

Here’s a brief excerpt from Finding Mercy:

Evans Point, Wyoming

June 28th, 2010  

If he didn’t know better, he’d think the end of the world had arrived. Will Evans tightened his grip on Bear’s and Sadie’s leashes and tuned in for any cries for help. The fresh smell of rain mixed with the industrial stink of spilled fuel and the ozone from a nearby lightning strike pounded reality home.

Even though they’d merely begun, his bones ached. Fifteen years before, he would’ve torn through the wreckage and pulled out survivors without hesitation. Now, he could only survey the destruction and fight the tears that tugged on his eyes. The scene brought back another time he couldn’t stomach, when he’d seen the Grim Reaper rip a hole between life and death, as he’d done this day.

The storms had hit with ferocity, in the middle of the night, without warning. The roaring of the beast had woken some, but not all. Those alerted had rushed for cover in their basements and cellars and now searched for those who were not as lucky. This was all that remained of the downtown after six tornadoes had torn through Evans Point. In all his eighty-four years, Will had seen only one other battlefield like it.

He swallowed and searched his soul for courage. There would be bodies among the rubble, but hopefully, there would also be living. He had to believe to continue, even though he found his faith tested.

So much carnage. Scanning the brightening horizon, he took in the destruction. Brick buildings were blown apart. Vehicles lay on their rooftops, dripping gasoline and other fluids. Even a pickup had been skewered on a flagpole like one of the carousel horses he’d ridden as a child at the fairground. A toy truck lay at his feet, its red paint bright and clean like it was fresh from the box.

Before I wrap this up, I’d like to invite you to check out the Prepper Romance Series from Decadent Publishing. PrepperRomance Buy Links. In this series you will find stories of people falling in love, who are also preppers. The focus isn’t on what they do, it’s simply a part of their lives. You will read stories of war heroes, princesses and geologists that embrace the earth and make amazing shelters. You will read stories about people like you and me, who want their families and friends to be safe in an emergency. 
So, what are you waiting for. Go get some great romance, and a few tips on how to be better prepared for disasters.
Thanks for stopping by.

D L

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

What's in an opening?





 

I think one of the things I look for most in a new to me author, when I pick up their book, is the ability to hook me into the story, and then when I’m there, keep me wanting more. Hooks and hangers in every chapter are so important, but it's that all important opening, many authors sweat over.

One of my favorite authors who’s got great hooks, is Jim Butcher, and my personal favorite opening is in his novel, Dead Beat.
But what of my own. I always strive to have engaging openings. Here are a few of my favorites, in no particular order.
Blown Away/Happy Trails:
Happy trail: That sexy little strip of hair that runs from a man’s belly button to his—towel. Jenna stared at the fluffy white barrier that blocked her gaze from traveling any further south. She’d enjoyed the scenic route, visually devoured the hard ridges of his six pack abs and the way the water trickled over his flesh while it took the path of least resistance. She knew she shouldn’t stare. It was inappropriate to ogle the higher-ranking beefcake, but she couldn’t stop. What woman in her right mind would be able to?

This Endris Night/1Night Stand series:
The cold kissed Shiya’s cheeks as the sled raced through the night, gliding across the snow in the Alaskan wilderness. Yeah, she could have arrived like the other guests, by bush plane, but the siren’s call of the icy world had been great, and she needed access to the wilds to put her plan in motion.

It had been too long since she’d last come home. Northern lights danced across the horizon, playing off icicles that gleamed on bent pine boughs—nature’s Christmas trees. Overhead the stars glittered, something she’d rarely seen because of the city lights.
Finding Mercy/A Prepper novel:

If he didn’t know better, he’d think the end of the world had arrived. Will Evans tightened his grip on Bear’s and Sadie’s leashes and tuned in for any cries for help. The fresh smell of rain mixed with the industrial stink of spilled fuel and the ozone from a nearby lightning strike pounded reality home.

Even though they’d merely begun, his bones ached. Fifteen years before, he would’ve torn through the wreckage and pulled out survivors without hesitation. Now, he could only survey the destruction and fight the tears that tugged on his eyes. The scene brought back another time he couldn’t stomach, when he’d seen the Grim Reaper rip a hole between life and death, as he’d done this day.
My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy/1Night Stand:

Grace lay on her belly, her cheek pressed into the lush grass, staring at a shot-glass of liquid. It sat at the base of her brother’s tombstone, as if someone waited for him to take a drink.

George Daniels, born June 18, 1987, Died August 8, 2011. Hero, Son, Brother.

Whoever left the whiskey, had set it on an ace of spades. Probably one of the Green Berets Geordie had served with. They’d liked to play that game. She smiled, remembering the stories her brother had told her about his downtime while deployed, the heated spades matches, the stomach churning dares to eat creepy crawlers, the roach races, anything to keep them entertained between patrols.

“I miss you.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. It had been a year since she’d lost him, and the hole still gaped open, raw, unbearable.

She wouldn’t be off shift for another thirty minutes, but on the anniversary of his death, she hadn’t been able to stay away. She'd needed to talk to him. So, she’d sprawled over his grave in her uniform, getting grass stains on her elbows from the freshly cut lawn, telling him about how much her life sucked without him.

“For my next number, I’m gonna play something a little more laid back.” A slurry voice rang out over the headstones, echoing through what was supposed to be a closed graveyard. A trumpet began to play. Dah, dah, dum. Dah, dah, squawk.

So tell me, what are some of your favorite hooks, the ones you loved writing or reading.

D L Jackson