| Rising Above |
Toni Noel, welcome back to Romance Lives Forever. Let's talk about
your book, Rising Above.
Genre: Historical Time Travel
Publisher: Desert Breeze Publishing
Cover artist: Carol Fiorillo
Length (words): 105,000
Heat rating: R
Tagline: A misfit tomboy goes back in time, compromises her reputation
with a disillusioned Pinkerton man who to her dismay insists on a marriage of convenience,
while she longs to return to her own time.
Blurb:
Bad weather cuts short Wilda Stone's hot-air balloon race, throwing
her back into widowed lawman Hal Grantham's time, the 1870's. A sand storm forcing
them off Hal's horse and into a cave where they spend two nights, compromising Wilda's
reputation, and forcing Hal into a marriage of convenience. Once they make love
Wilda realizes she has fallen in love with the terse lawman and abandons all thought
of returning to the twenty-first century. Her stoic husband conceals his true feelings
for her. When diphtheria-- the same disease responsible for taking his first wife
and son -- threatens the silver mining town of Cerro Gordo, deep concern for Wilda's
welfare drives Hal to send his wife back to her own time in her balloon. His actions
convince her Hal shuns her love and she departs, whispering a promise to return,
without revealing her pregnancy. Once her conveyance rises beyond his reach, Hal
realizes his mistake and launches a futile search for the woman he now readily admits
he loves.
Buy links:
Desert Breeze Publishing http://is.gd/Toni_DesertBreeze
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B009ZP5JOS
Or from your favorite eBook store.
What are your main characters' names, ages, and occupations?
Wilda Stone and Hal Grantham. 28 and 32. In her other life Wilda
was a flag person on a Caltrans road crew. In Cerro Gordo
the only acceptable work to fill her time is helping out in the kitchen of the American
Hotel, a totally unacceptable activity for an awkward outdoor girl who can't cook.
Hal is a disillusioned undercover Pinkerton agent ready for a
change.
Excerpt:
Dottie reached the main floor and ducked into a small
room furnished as a parlor. The others followed, and all but Wilda engaged in a
whispered conference. While waiting for them to finish, she noticed an Inyo County
newspaper and a copy of Peterson's Magazine on the lamp table nearby.
Casually, Wilda unfolded and lifted the paper. The headline
read "Lone Pine, California Rebuilds Following Disastrous Quake." Dated
October 1, 1874, the lead article detailed the devastation that had occurred on
March 26, 1872, when an earthquake shook residents of the quiet valley from their
beds.
Is this October of 1874?
The corners of the newspaper were dog-eared from frequent
handling, but the printed pages showed no sign of age. Wilda estimated the paper
couldn't be more than a week old.
A hard knot formed in her stomach. Now she knew the year,
she could no longer deny her worrisome suspicions.
Somehow, she had stepped back in time. Her pulse throbbed.
What else had happened in 1874?
The chase for gold in California had slowed to a crawl then and the
Civil War had ended.
What else? Was California
a state yet?
With all her heart she wished she'd paid more attention
to her history lessons.
Why did it matter? Women weren't yet allowed to vote,
she was sure.
Without giving Wilda sufficient time to absorb the reality
of her predicament, Dottie turned toward the jumble of voices and entered a large
paneled room. Wilda had no choice but to drop the newspaper and follow.
Oil fueled glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. White
oilcloth covered the tables arranged in three long rows. She remembered the shiny
surface from her childhood. As Wilda entered, a hush fell over the room. A dozen
miners sat at each table, their eyes all turned on her. Forks halted in mid-air.
Although she followed close behind Dottie, Wilda's skirt caught on a chair leg,
tripping her.
Her cheeks heated. Clumsy goose.
Hal, who had somehow wound up behind her, reached to steady
her by placing his hand on her upper arm. Her cheeks burned hotter still. Careful
now of every step, she watched the placement of her feet with lowered gaze.
From the corner of her eye she saw Hal stop long enough
to hang his Stetson on a peg by the door. For some unexplained reason, she took
comfort in the sound of his steps behind her.
Dottie led the way to an empty table, showed Wilda where
to sit, and headed for the kitchen without waiting for her friends to take their
seats.
Hal held Wilda's chair, bending to whisper in her ear,
"Dottie's seeing to the food."
He took the place on her right and gave the occupants
of the room an intimidating look. Wilda frowned.
Ace sat at the end of the table, surveying the room, his
eyes never still, his shoulders tense, waiting, as if he expected something to happen.
What?
Wilda couldn't comprehend the need for a bodyguard, or
for the whispered words and knowing looks she'd so far observed but, following Hal's
instructions, kept her questions to herself.
Dottie and Chang Li placed white pottery bowls heaped
with stew before the newcomers, and then Dottie sank into the vacant chair across
from Wilda. The other diners didn't resume talking until Dottie began to eat.
Chang Li placed a cup of steaming coffee before Wilda.
Delighted, she sipped the strong brew. In an effort to appease her raging hunger
and to give her hands a task, she tackled her stew, a meaty concoction well seasoned
with pepper and tasting of wild onions.
She finished it off quickly, along with the dark, yeasty
bread.
"The lady has a healthy appetite," Dottie commented.
Wilda glanced around the table. Her bowl was the only
empty one. Her cheeks took on new fire. Intense hunger had caused her to forget
her manners.
"Everything is so delicious," she said lamely.
Hal and Dottie laughed at her flustered explanation, attracting
attention of the miners seated nearby. The men stared at her with interest. One
man's openly lascivious grin made Wilda's flesh crawl. She quickly looked away from
him, right into Hal's unreadable gaze. After a moment in which her heart thumped
wildly, he turned back to his stew.
Looking beyond the heads turned her direction, Wilda saw
the evening sky through windows draped with forest green tapestry over sheer curtains
of lace. A wide opening to the kitchen revealed the cook stirring a steaming pot
on the massive black cooking stove.
The men began leaving the tables, slapping each other
on the back, and politely tipping their hats to Wilda. She smiled at the courtesy.
Uh-oh. My mistake.
A toothless man whose shaggy growth of beard partially
hid a wide grin separated himself from the group and headed for their table. Hal
and Ace both came to attention.
"Evenin' Miss," the miner said, and preened.
"Josh Buckston, at your service."
Hal narrowed his eyes at Wilda. She ducked her head, but
tuned her ears to listen.
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| Restored Dreams |
"Looks like the lady's finished with her food,"
Josh said, apparently for Hal's benefit. "Would you care to step out on the
porch with me for a nice breath of fresh air?"
Wilda glanced up before she heard Hal gritting his teeth.
"The lady's taken, Buckston," he warned.
"Can't blame a man for trying," Josh said, backing
away.
He joined his friends waiting for him near the door. The
men leaned in close to hear what he had to say, then stared back over their shoulders
at Hal, who raked the cluster of men with a heated look.
Once the group had sauntered out, Hal turned to her, a
small smile softening his features. "I'm sorry, Miss Stone," he said.
"These men don't often have the occasion to see a pretty woman. I forgot how
forward they tend to act at times."
Hal possessed way more gall than Josh Buckston. She was
quite capable of speaking for herself. He might at least have given her the opportunity
to turn aside the miner's attention, but no. He'd warned her not to speak to the
men.
Well, she wouldn't allow Hal's presumptuous rules to run
her life.
While no one previously crossing her path had showed any
interest in taking her out, the miner who'd approached their table didn't hold any
appeal to Wilda. She let her gaze travel about the room, much aware of everyone
observing her every move from across the dining hall. She didn't see one she'd care
to sit with. Certainly none she'd choose to walk with along a dark road.
Besides, not a man in the room held a candle to Hal. She
glanced at him, now deeply involved in whispered conversation with Dottie.
He grimaced and a tiny frown marred the smoothness of
his forehead. Somewhere, he'd taken the time to shave and slick his dark hair. It
skimmed the collar of his newly laundered black shirt. She was aware of the shirt's
aroma, lye soap and the scent of what she supposed was bay rum.
Hal glanced up and caught her smiling. His frown deepened
into an aggravated scowl. He shook his head at something Dottie said, but continued
to stare at Wilda, trying to communicate some unspoken message she failed to interpret.
Perhaps he'd guessed her thoughts. At the strong possibility,
Wilda looked away, flushing, but his words replayed in her mind, and the way he'd
looked at her when he referred to her as a pretty woman.
Another group of diners entered and Chang Li soundlessly
scurried about, clearing tables and arranging clean place settings of tin utensils.
One of the new arrivals failed to take a seat, choosing
instead to head directly toward the table where Wilda and her companions sat. A
determined gleam flashed from his eyes, a cocky self-assurance his unwashed face
and hands proved unjustified.
At the last minute, he dragged his hat from his head and
came to a halt opposite her. He hesitated and squashed his hat against his chest.
"Miss, you've done run off with my heart. Marry up with me?"
The miner's flowery speech triggered a grin Willa thought
best she swallow. Beside her, Hal stiffened then cleared his throat. Fists clenched,
his body half out of the chair, Hal announced to the entire room, "Miss Stone
is promised to me."
Interview
How do you come up with ideas?
Inspiration strikes me at the oddest times, and in unexpected
places. Usually it's through something I see, or hear. A boarded up house in a ritzy
neighborhood we were driving through inspired Decisive Moments. A network news story
about the rising birthrate in a faraway Irish town inspired Fairy Dusted. A weekend
stay in the refurbished bunk house of a restored silver mining town inspired Rising
Above.
What do you enjoy most about
writing?
I love the freedom of being my own boss, and the chance to escape
reality while I write, but I also enjoy the anticipation I feel when a friend buys
one of my books. I can't wait to hear how they liked it, whether it made their day
a little happier or gave them something new to think about.
What do you enjoy most about
life?
The thing I enjoy most is simply being alive. I am so blessed.
A loving family. Good health. A wealth of knowledge at my fingertips and time to
explore all of it to the fullest. It's a great life.
Where do you start when writing?
Research, plotting, outline, or...?
The inspiration comes first, then a character's name or the novel's
setting. Next, as ideas come to me, I list fifty scenes necessary to move my characters
through the story and reach a satisfactory conclusion. I'm very visual, so I transfer
the scenes to stickies, arrange those on a story board, and after identifying the
major turning points and the blackest moment for each character, I'm ready to write.
The beauty of this method is the stickies can be moved around countless times, and
the scenes rearranged as I write to give the story ending a satisfying resolution,
showing ways in which the main characters have changed.
What are some jobs you've done
that would end up in a book?
In my teens I called square dances for the Y.M.C.A. and later
did alterations for a cleaners. When we were without health insurance, and our four
young children had run up a big debt at their doctor's, I made drapes for his new
office to settle our account. I've also performed puppet shows and taught crafts
at nursing homes. Before retiring, I supervised a computerized payroll, and included
some of my office experiences in Temp to Permanent, a romantic suspense.
What do you hope readers take
with them after reading your work?
I want my readers to feel satisfied with their read. I write
novels about finding a safe haven for the heart and firmly believe this is what
everyone hopes to find. I found my safe haven early in life, but it still delights
me when the book I’m reading ends with the heroine finding her safe haven in the
arms of her newly found love.
Picture yourself as a store.
Considering your personality and lifestyle, what type of products would be sold
there?
I would specialize in classically styled upscale dresses and
suits, go-to outfits a woman reaches into her closet for every day. I'd have a complete
selection of leather boots in a variety of styles and widths. The leather purses
I carry will have wide openings and no places for lipsticks and car keys to hide.
I'd showcase earrings with silver or gold posts for pierced with only snap closures,
no easily-lost separate parts. In the casual clothing department you'll find quality
merchandise for travel, spectator sports and working out all in one place, the huggable
woolens and cashmeres incredibly soft to the touch, the baby terry and fleece silky
smooth next to your skin.
As a child, what was your favorite
thing about school?
I loved the countless opportunities for expanding my horizons
school provided. I had endless curiosity and still question everything. My favorite
question is "Why?"
If you came with a warning
label, what would it say?
Caution. Contents under extreme pressure and with good cause
will likely explode. (I inherited my father's volatile temper.)
Please Fill in the Blanks
I love vegetarian pizza with artichokes.
I'm always ready for fun.
When I'm alone I eat dinner on our best china. It makes me
feel like I'm eating out.
You'd never be able to tell, but I was the head cheerleader
for my high school.
If I had a halo it would be bent.
If I could crochet I'd own that sweater I've been admiring.
I can never diet for long because I love to eat and
have no willpower.
My Booklist
Law Breakers and Love Makers, soon in print, too.
Temp to Permanent
Decisive Moments
Restored Dreams
Fairy Dusted
Rising Above
Books Coming Soon
To Feel Again
Fragile Bonds
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| Toni Noel |
Homeward Bound
About the Author
Toni Noel's Novels... Safe havens for the heart.
Toni Noel's love of books started in childhood, when her
mother first read The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew to her. She helped
start church libraries in two rural Tennessee
towns and appeared before the City Planning Commission and the San Diego City
Council to urge a site be purchased. As the neighborhood spokesman for the new
library the City Councilman for her district invited her to turn the second
shovel of dirt at the groundbreaking for the new library. Toni's fondest dream,
to see one of her safe-haven-for-the-heart novels available for checkout there
may soon be fulfilled. Desert Breeze Publishing will release in print form in
November the author's first published novel Law Breakers and Love Makers.
Find Me Here
Website: http://ToniNoelAuthor.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/toninoelwriter
Facebook: http://facebook.com/AuthorToniNoel


Thanks for having me, Kayelle. It's always fun to visit your site.
ReplyDeleteToni
Good to have you back!
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