M. S. Spencer, @msspencerauthor, #Pit&thePassion, #MSSpencerbooks, #Floridafiction

I’d like to welcome M. S. Spencer, author of The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel, to my blog today.

RW:    How much of your personality and life experiences are in your writing?

MSS:  A lot! As you can see from my biography, I’ve led a rather eclectic life full of travel & adventure. While every novel I write is fiction, bits of experiences do crop up in them. Lapses of Memory is particularly rife with actual experiences. I figure, this way I don’t have to write my autobiography.

RW:    Tell us about your latest book. What motivated the story? Where did the idea come from? What genre is it? Does it cross over to other genres? If so, what are they?

MSS:  Flotsam & Jetsam: the Amelia Island Affair, is a murder mystery/romantic suspense novel set on Amelia Island, southernmost of the Sea Islands on the Atlantic coast. I went to a book signing event there a couple of years ago and fell in love with the island’s quirky history. It’s been conquered and reconquered by not just countries, but pirates and mercenaries. I wanted to write a contemporary story, but one that draws on that history.

Here’s the blurb:

Who’s littering the park with corpses?

State Park Rangers Simon Ribault and Ellie Ironstone are used to dealing with messy campers and ravaging raccoons, but when three bodies wash up on the beach, they mobilize all their powers of deduction. Who are they and how did they get to the shore of Amelia Island? Are they connected to the secretive League of the Green Cross? Or linked to a mysterious Jamaican drug ring?

Ellie, new to Amelia Island, must penetrate a close-knit community if she wants to find answers to the mystery, all while deciding between two rivals for her affection: Thad, the handsome local idol, and Simon, the clever, quirky bookworm.

Simon, for his part, will have to call on his not-so-well-honed romantic prowess to lure Ellie away from Thad and at the same time use his wide-ranging research skills to solve the case.

RW:    How many books have you written, and how many have been published?

MSS:  Flotsam & Jetsam: the Amelia Island Affair will be released this year. It marks my twelfth published book, all romantic suspense or murder mystery. I wrote one other full manuscript—a murder mystery set in Williamsburg, Virginia—that sat in a drawer for a couple of years until my husband inadvertently (Or not? The jury’s out.) threw it out.

RW:    What book for you has been the easiest to write? The hardest? The most fun?

MSS:  The easiest was probably The Pit & the Passion, released in January. The characters practically wrote themselves and the setting (a grand hotel in ruins that circus man John Ringling built in the 20s) so much fun. I even managed to set a scene or two in my beloved Paris.

The hardest was definitely Flotsam & Jetsam: the Amelia Island Affair, which is due out before the end of this year. That’s the first time I’ve tried a male POV. I had to worry that I was feminizing him too much—plus there are surprising gimmicks I had to ditch—like how to describe the characters. Men usually tell women they have beautiful hair/eyes, etc., thus providing a description for the reader with little effort. But women don’t do that—so how to provide an image of the hero to the reader? We’ll see if it worked.

RW:    Which comes first, the story, the characters, or the setting?

MSS:  I usually like to set a story where I’m setting 😊 but sometimes I get an idea while fiddling around on the internet. I’ll follow research leads until something jumps out. I was reading about John Ringling’s Ghost Hotel—a Ritz-Carlton he started in 1926 and left unfinished for decades when it struck me—what do you find at a ghost hotel? Anyone? The Mason’s Mark: Love & Death in the Tower, is set at the Masonic Memorial and has lots of Masonic intrigue. It came to me when I was reading about a real life renegade Mason with an incredibly flamboyant (& wicked) history.

RW:    Are you in control of your characters or do they control you?

MSS:  Oh, they definitely control me—even to their names. My hero/heroine are literally called “/name/” up until about the third chapter, when they are fully formed little beasts who insist on going their own way. Sometimes they even bring in relatives I didn’t know they had! In Dear Philomena, my Chincoteague mystery romance, Dagne drags her no-good father right onto the page and made me write him in.

RW:    A biography has been written about you. What do you think the title would be in six words or less?

MSS:  Been there, done that.

RW:    If you were stranded on a tropical island, who would it be with? You can choose any living, deceased or mythical figure.

MSS:  Samuel Johnson, definitely. He had an opinion about everything and was the greatest wordsmith ever. I could listen to him for hours. He didn’t mind a dram or two either.

RW:    What’s your most embarrassing moment?

MSS: Hard to choose among so many! But one time—I had my family with me (husband & two young children). We were heading into DC for a victory parade and the subways were packed. Finally, I went full Nike (goddess of Victory, not the shoe) and pushed my way onto the car proclaiming that “I had children with me” as though I expected them to make way for the royal family. I managed to squeeze us in, turned around, and had a full-blown panic attack. In the same stentorian tone I announced that we had to get off RIGHT NOW. I grabbed one child and plowed through the quickly parting sea of people. Once out, I absolutely, positively died of embarrassment. Especially once I realized we were six miles from home. And that I’d left my husband and son on the subway.

RW:    I love pizza with (fill in the blank).

MSS:  Anchovies, bacon, and pickled jalapenos. Don’t argue with me 😊

RW:    Those are all the questions I have for you. Thank you for speaking to me.

THE PIT & THE PASSION:

MURDER AT THE GHOST HOTEL

The Plot

At midnight, in the darkness of a deserted hotel, comes a scream and a splash. Eighty-five years later, workmen uncover a skeleton in an old elevator shaft. Who is it, and how did it get there? To find out, Charity Snow, ace reporter for the Longboat Key Planet, teams up with Rancor Bass, best-selling author. A college ring they find at the dig site may prove to be their best clue.

Although his arrogance nearly exceeds his talent, Charity soon discovers a warm heart beating under Rancor’s handsome exterior. While dealing with a drop-dead gorgeous editor who may or may not be a villain, a publisher with a dark secret, and an irascible forensic specialist, Charity and Rancor unearth an unexpected link to the most famous circus family in the world.

An Excerpt:

That Hot Heavy Feeling

He scratched his neck. “You are no fun at all.”

She smiled with satisfaction. “Good.”

“Because you see, while you with such easy indifference relegate Tommy T to a mundane accident and the benighted Biddlesworth to a watery grave, you haven’t answered the question of my grandfather’s disappearance.”

“Am I supposed to?”

He stopped. An uncertain look passed over his face, catching Charity off guard. “I…I thought we were in this together?”

A feeling she couldn’t name rushed through her, one that filled every pore with a heavy sort of heat. It weighed her down, made her sluggish. Time slowed. She watched with vague interest as her knees buckled, and the floor rushed toward her. Just before she smacked into it, two strong arms caught her, lifted her up, and held her in a crushing grip. “Charity? Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes. Oh, Rancor.” After that she couldn’t talk because her lips were smashed against his and her chest against his and she couldn’t breathe at all, but she didn’t really need to because he was breathing for the both of them.

A while later, they sat down on the couch. Rancor traced her cheek with his finger, his eyes wondering. Charity felt at peace. She had recognized the hot, heavy feeling and accepted it. Now to explain it to Rancor.

“Rancor? I—”

The phone rang.

M. S. Spencer

Bio

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. She has two fabulous grown children and a perfect granddaughter. Ms. Spencer has published twelve romantic suspense/murder mystery novels, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Book Links:

The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5533-the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel.html

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Pit-Passion-Murder-Ghost-Hotel-ebook/dp/B078JY8RLY

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel/id1332026896?mt=11

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pit-and-the-passion-m-s-spencer/1127750685?ean=2940158925351

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel

Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/M_S_Spencer_The_Pit_and_the_Passion_Murder_at_the?id=F-tGDwAAQBAJ

Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/the-pit-and-the-passion/9781509218424-item.html

Contact M. S. Spencer At:

Blog: https://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromance

Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/msspencerauthor/

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/m-s-spencer

https://www.bookbub.com/m-s-spencer

Author Pages

The Wild Rose Press:

http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/1360_m-s-spencer

Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

Chris Chandler of Dead Scared by Ivan Blake #Ghosts, #GraveRobbers, #YoungLove

I’d like to welcome Chris Chandler of Dead Scared by Ivan Blake.

RW:   What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

CC:    I’m seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in June of next year. My dad works for Allied Paper Products of Wisconsin. He’s their hatchet man. He travels round closing their plants and we have to go with him. We’ve lived in three crappy towns in the last six years. Every one of them has been dying and dad’s job was to put the town out of its misery for good. Of course, the towns don’t see it that way. They hate Dad’s guts and by extension the rest of the family as well.

          And now we’re here in Bemishstock Maine. It has to be the worst place we’ve been. Everywhere else I’ve tried to be invisible, lay low, and attract no attention. Then today, well today I made the stupidest mistake, and now I have this feeling things are really going to go very wrong.

RW:    Can you tell us about your heroine

CC:     I guess that might be my friend, Felicity Holcomb, who lives across the road and up the old trail to the top of the mountain. She’s a widow and makes a living selling her water colors and writing articles about Maine. She’s so gutsy. Doesn’t give a damn what anybody thinks of her. She’s had a really hard life, but she’s generous and smart and, well, she’s probably my best friend.

RW:    What problems do you have to face and overcome in your life?

CC:    Well first there’s dad’s job. It’s beyond me why he does what he does. He has to know how all this travelling and the bitterness we encounter are hurting our family. Then there’s Mum. She’s always so sad. Nothing seems to help. And then there’s my teachers. They’re just like everybody else. They hate me and our family for what Dad is doing to their town. And then there’s the cops. The Chief of Police, he really has it out for me, blames me for some weird hate letter I had nothing to do with. And now, well now I really have a mess on my hands. The neighbor down the tracks, the old goat farmer, last night I think I saw him hauling a body from his cart up the hill to his barn. But can I tell anyone? No f…ing way.

RW:   Do you expect your heroine to help or is she the problem?

CC:   I’m sure Felicity would help me but I can’t get her involved. She’s already being harassed by some locals. Last thing I want to do is make things more difficult for her.

RW:    Where do you live?

CC:   Just outside Bemishstock, an old mill town at the mouth of the Roan River on the north coast of Maine. We rent the back portion of the Willard family’s farm house. Their farm backs onto Adinack Bay. The house is falling apart. My room for instance is a tiny crawl space in the attic.

RW:    During what time-period does your story take place?

A.            It’s October, 1985. The papers are filled with stories about Princess Diana, this mysterious new illness killing gay men, the rock band Queen, and movies like “Rambo” and “The Fly.”

RW:    How are you coping with the conflict in your life?

CC:     Not well. I want to get as far away from my family, this town, and Maine as I possibly can. Trouble is, a guy has to do the right thing, no? And while I know no one is going to thank me, I’m going to have to confront the bastard next door…even if it kills me.

RW:    What is your secret guilty pleasure?

CC:    I do spend a lot of time hanging out down at the Willard Family’s small graveyard near the beach. But that’s not my guilty pleasure. It’s writing stories, stories about strange places, weird creature, like Poe and Lovecraft.

RW:    If you came with a warning label, what would it say?

CC:     I think I probably do. I’ve cultivated this persona as a brooding nutcase, a dangerous dark figure on a hair trigger. I was trying to scare people off. Trouble is I’ve played this role for so long now, I’m not sure where the nutcase ends and the real me begins.

RW:    When I’m alone I like to…

CC:     When I’m alone, I hang out at the Willard Graveyard, a creepy place if ever there was one. But I get to think there and get my nerves under control after each horrific day at school.

RW:    If I could (fill in the blank) I’d (fill in the blank).

CC:    I’d do better in school. I really would have liked to have gone to college. But it’s probably too late now. Not unless a miracle happens.

RW:   What is the one question you wish an interviewer would ask you?

CC:   So tell us about Gillian Willard. Well, Gillian is this really quiet, kinda strange looking girl who lives in the other part of the Willard farmhouse. We ride the same school bus each day, but she’s a year younger than me so we never speak. And yet… I like her dignity. It’s like she couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of her. And she’s, well, sort of beautiful in this mysterious queen-of-the-Nile kind of way. And strange as it may seem, I think she may want to help me…

RW:   Those are all the questions I have for you. Thank you for speaking to me.

IVAN BLAKE

Author Ivan Blake’s upbringing clearly disposed him to the paranormal. He was born a mile from prehistoric Stonehenge in a small English village steeped in mystery and the supernatural, and as a child, lived in dozens of strange places including boarding rooms, old hotels, and crumbling farmhouses. He slept in attics and coal cellars and pubs and attended sixteen schools before completing grade eleven. To hear Ivan speak of it all today, he enjoyed the most wonderful and exciting—albeit bizarre and exotic upbringing.

Ivan went on to do doctoral studies in intellectual history at the University of Chicago and spend fifteen years as a university professor before transferring to the Public Service of Canada as a senior executive. He ended his career consulting on management and accountability to governments across Asia, Africa and Europe. “Terrific training,” Ivan says with a wry smile, “for an author of horror and dark fiction.”

Dead Scared: The Mortsafeman Trilogy, Book One

“Gloriously macabre” and “an intense and brooding tale that delivers.” No zombies here. In this tale of grave robbery, grotesque experimentation, and ancient magic, the dead are the victims. And their defenders? An ancient order of cemetery guardians called Mortsafemen.

An Excerpt:

Every kid in Maine’s South Portland Youth Detention Center was fighting some kind of demon. Christopher Chandler’s demon was different; she always drew blood.

Past ten on a sticky summer night, the heavy air off the land, ripe with the smell of rotten eggs from the pulp mills and fish waste from the canning plant, no one could sleep. Two hundred boys, tossing in their beds, whispering, up to god knows what; it all made for a low, irksome hum across the complex, like flies on filth.

Chris was alone in the library, reading. One of the perks of being labelled deeply troubled and dangerous—he had lots of time to himself. He heard the door open, close, and then...nothing. After a minute, he called out, “Need help?” No reply. Still, he sensed someone watching from the stacks, and twice glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye. He knew too well where this was going.

Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes passed before he heard another sound, then footsteps, and the lights went out.

“You don’t have to do this,” Chris said. Again, no reply.

Sighing, he pushed several books into a ratty canvas bag, and stood up.

Straightening as best he could, he hobbled away toward the library door, past the darkened stacks, with only the red glow of the exit sign to light the way.

“Running away, motherf...?”

Chris stopped, bowed his head, and after a moment turned around. A pimply kid, maybe fifteen, tall, wiry, and sweating like a pig, stepped from the shadows.

Chris didn’t recognize the new arrival; they all had to learn.

“You’re the one who’s been hiding, not me,” Chris said. “You scared?”

“No, ass…, I’m not scared! But if you ain’t, you should be!”

The kid was practically shouting; nerves most likely.

“Keep it down…unless you want the guards to come.” Then Chris smiled.

“The idiots in Unit C put you up to this?”

“Nobody put me up to nothing. They say you’re tough, but you look f…in’ sick to me.” The kid was jumpy, shuffling about like he had to take a leak, and swinging a sock filled with something heavy over and over against the palm of his left hand.

“You are frightened!” Chris almost felt sorry for the kid. “First night in here, figure you’ve got to let people know you’re a real tough bastard, let them know not to mess with you. They tell you, get Chandler, and you say, sure...because you’re just that stupid.”

“Shut the f… up! We gonna do this...or you too much of a pussy?”

“All right. First though, you have to know how this will end.” Chris lowered his voice and moved toward the boy.

“You’re going to get hurt. I wish that wasn’t true, but it is. You’re going to get hurt so bad that for the rest of your time in here you’re going to be the Unit C cuddle bunny; you’re going to bend over for every horny idiot who takes a fancy to your scrawny ass.”

He moved closer still. “You’ll be so messed up you won’t be able to say no to nothing and to nobody ever again.”

Chris smiled, waited for the images to sink in then shook his head. “But if that’s what you want...”

“You don’t frighten me. You can’t even walk straight for f… sake.”

“Okay then, but I do have to say,” and Chris stepped right up to the kid, took him in his arms, kissed him repeatedly on his pockmarked and pimply cheek, and said, “Better you than me for a change.”

“Get off me!” The kid shoved Chris away. “Damn, you really are sick!”

“Yes, I probably am…and so is she.” The air crackled.

“What?”

Chris pointed over the kid’s shoulder, up toward the ceiling. “Say hi to Mallory.”

The boy spun around and screamed—screamed like he’d lost his mind—as his left ear and a strip of scalp were torn away and tossed across the room to strike the far wall with a bloody splat.

Website: http://ivanblake.net

VideoTrailerURL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8OWafdOcb9o

Buy Link: https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/now-available-in-ebook/dead-scared-detail

Key Words/Labels:

Bullying, Coming Of Age, Ghosts, Grave Robbers, Homophobia, Ivan Blake, Mad Scientists, MuseItUp Publishing, Mysticism, Magic, The Mortsafeman Trilogy, Young Love