SOMEDAY

someday_promo

Here’s my cover reveal for SOMEDAY! I’ve loaded it onto Amazon and Barnes & Noble for digital e books. (Should be ready for sale by 10/12/2017). I’ll do the print later-more time consuming, and I’m not exactly sure of that process for self-publishing. This title was previously published as Bleu Moon. I’ve updated the cover and re-titled this beautiful story to reach more readers. I hope you pass it forward and help me out as an author. Thanks.

SOMEDAY

A family is formed on a vineyard through missions performed by a pilot who rescues stranded souls from around the globe. This high concept coming of age contemporary novel transports us through the pilot’s business named “ANGIE.” Think Out of Africa meets Top Gun while vacationing Under the Tuscan Sun!

Olivier and Brie marry at the Notre Dame in Paris and begin life as newlyweds when the adventure sets in motion a rescue right around the time of the blue moon over the vineyard. Hawa and Francis enter this family through unforeseen extreme circumstances and one follows their hearts while they find the way in this coming of age story.

How will they help this global family in their family operations of special rescues across continents? How does one of Olivier’s best friends, a jazz singer from the Bleu, find out about his secret business? And why is her son involved? The island of Maupiti holds many clues; what does Darlene find there? Besides maybe love?

Enjoy this beautifully written novel, twice granted honorable mention awards! Available tomorrow at online shopping sites: Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Cover by Dani Orweergor from Brazil at Self Published Covers.

By Caroline Clemens

 

Advertisements

Raven and More

ClemonsIMG_1937

Just a quick post here-I’m feeling an October surge or rush today. Actually, I want the younger ones to read two poems, one by me titled “Plot” and another by the famous, now dead, Edgar Allan Poe! His is titled “The Raven-Nevermore” and if you think you are going crazy as a freshman in college or life has you feeling out of sorts, well, read his poem and you’ll feel sane. I think.

Thanks for following me and more to come in October.

The Plot

“There’s somethin’ ‘bout these cemetery plots,” he said.
We ventured, like it or not, no longer tots, a folly she read.

What an idea dared on a dismal black-chilled Halloween night!
My friend’s sister I never met sought thrills of Frankenstein fright.

Clouds raced by luminous and white, night sky filled with ghosts
The wind kicked in, howling, seriously it scared me the most.

Dead leaves wet on the grass, all the way to the back we ran.

“Why?” I bothered to ask.

“Farther away,” he said shaking, “from the caretaker man.”

Out of breath, I stared at the raven atop the towering grey stone.
Silent. Statured. I gasped, tightly clenching my pocketed phone.

“Thought your sister was meeting us tonight?” I asked. “Here.”
“Here,” he moaned. The blackbird stirred igniting frenzy and fear.

His beak haunted me while black eyes loomed an ominous presence.
My heart raced and mind panicked remembering the fluted fence.

Then I traced my friend’s line of vision as his eyes grew in size.

“Boo!” She screamed and jumped from behind the plot and stone.
Laughing hysterically as my heart emptied a sudden surprise.

By Caroline Clemens

 

The Raven (Nevermore)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!

By Edgar Allan Poe

From Google-Public Domain

 

 

 

 

Christmas Newsletter 2016

img_0842

Welcome to my blog! I’m so glad you found me, let me tell you a little about me. I’ve been blogging since 2011 and have learned more than I could ever have hoped. It’s like there’s a whole other world out there for sharing and appreciating; makes me feel so grown up! I feel as though the light has been turned ON. I definitely know I found this at the right time as I was looking for more in my life. Why?

Well, I had completed my task list and had dismissed myself to the wayside. Have you ever done that? So I began to concentrate on me and did a couple things but something was missing, that feel or engagement of sorts. Let’s say you attend a musical or play or concert and you just love it. That feeling stays with you for quite sometime. I was missing the concert, or concerto.

img_0834

Now I feel as though I don’t have enough time in the day; I mean come on God I need 48 hours for every day. Smiles. I’ll prioritize again, very soon, but first I’m launching this writing thing that began back in 2011. I have books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, mostly digital save for one that I spent money to get published from a small press. They did a fantastic job and I was never more proud to have a book of my own. I didn’t break the bank as I’m a bit frugal and handle my finances very well.

Last night though, I transformed my digital stories into print books, low cost to purchase right on Amazon. God Bless Amazon! Seriously, after five years of learning every detail myself, someone was there to take my hand and say, okay here’s the final step. Let’s see if we can’t find you some readers and make a little money for your hard earned efforts. We’ll see. I’m as happy as a ………

img_0846

Christmas has always been special for me and I don’t remember ever being depressed at this time. I know what sadness is maybe even depression but I never carried it for a long time. I’ve had some hits in my life and I honestly don’t know why but I’m wired to get up every time and start over again. If you are sad or depressed at this time reach out just a little and find someone to have a talk with. That helps tremendously. Coffee and a good chat!

Back to the books and what am I grateful for at this time of the year? Simply the people in my life and the zest for which I live. I’m a list maker and a doer. My husband stood by me for years as we struggled with infertility (the quiet killer of dreams) and now I stand with him as he makes a new career for himself moving forward. I’m proud of him for making that change after 32 years at the same institution. I love change and he doesn’t. Talk about opposites.

img_0813

Here’s to the next step in life for both of us! I’m just getting started and have more stories to write. I’ve entered contests with cash prizes. Yes! Say a prayer for me and I have already started on a tiny lighthouse Christmas tale. For now go to Amazon or Barnes & Noble and find me there under Caroline Clemens, my pen name.  Twitter

Carpe Diem and Merry Christmas with a Blessed New Year! Caroline Clemens

This post is dedicated to Susie Lindau’s #Blessed Project at  #BlessedProject@WildRide

Blogger @theivorytide.com Amazon Purchase

Photography by Me I Have An Amazon Page!

My husband Mike (aka Hemmingway), lights and cabin via Marybeth & Brian’s place.

*Oh my having trouble getting my novel to convert into print! This is distressing for the life of a self-pubbed writer. One in draft, the other not working. Update later ….

* Update on Twitter

September 2016 Newsletter

cropped-istock_000048750328_medium1.jpg

What’s that expression? “Anything worthwhile doesn’t come easy.”

As I learn this craft of writing (I never in a million years actually believed I could write a book, yet alone a poetry collection), it is like anything filled with dis-beliefs, sorrows, bad reviews, no confidence, what am I doing moments, along with steady assurances and liking one’s own work. If I didn’t like my work I would have stopped back in 2011. When I reread parts of my novel I still love it. Sure grammar and punctuation have improved though still not perfect. Who’s perfect anyway? Reads a line from one of my poems.

I’m entering contests; why do this you ask? Because contests are a fun way to get people to participate. They propel you to put your best self forward and that’s not a bad thing et all. I’ve entered three contests this year for my poetry alone. From very small online venues to one long standing contest which has upwards of 400 contestants. The Poetry Festival had an actor read my beautiful poem then send the recording to me! It’s at the top of my Twitter feed. Look here at their site. Soon I’ll be outlining a whole plan for future works.

I hope to go a little mainstream as in entering my works in magazines. I just haven’t had the time. I’m finishing up a year long stylist school. Yup, my mother always instilled in me have a back up plan: that way you can venture out and pursue whatever you want in life. Pure economics advice from those depression era memories. She’s a better mother than she realizes, I’m sure.

My eyes are set on a busy and healthy year ahead. Back to working out daily, salads, etc. and maybe some golf! You know the score find a part time real job, be a mom again, write away after a vacation to the beach. My family has had to do mommy things this past year in my absence. I thank them for supporting me. Dreamily, I’ll think about Paris and other places to visit.

Follow me on Instagram kim_troike and Tumblr autumnquotes. I’ll be posting photography from my new camera. Photo above from Thinkstock Images. Thanks for stopping by.

Caroline Clemens

August Review

My heart wants to share a couple poems with you after I saw the picture of the little boy from Syria all over the news yesterday. He was bloody and shell-shocked. What can we do?

iThinkstockPhotos-480956567
Magnolia

WAITING

In this cave dusty and hot, but sheltered,
We made it bombs exploding, running fast.

My arms wrap tight and squeeze, shaking
And frightened, more than you sweet babe.

Little one, I will not show you my hurt foot.
It’s there as I smell the familiar red puddle.

My sleeve is wet but there is no pain.
This garment absorbs your escaping fears.

Whoever finds us, my hopes run far and high.
It will be the good men to take us home.

Maybe brother made it, sigh, mom and dad, too.
Though they lay still as we ran, lead lungs.

I will keep you sister close by me, evermore.
No bad men with pointed guns shall find us.

Steal I must the dead man’s gun and shoot
Whomever deems us harm or fateful ills.

I promise this to you as I feel the warmth of
Your breath, your beating heart, next to me, I see.

I see what I must do and be, your guardian-
Your angel here on earth; your need is my plight!

 

And this next poem my dear readers is a Villanelle, a most difficult one to write using skill and dedication to a beautiful format. The villanesque or villanelle has French origins with Italian meanings, such as a rustic song or dance. The poem contains five tercets, a quatrain with 1st and 3rd lines alternately in repetition, and ending with both refrains included in the last stanza.

 

INSIDE THEM

Run run, thoughts of freedom bring tears young heart.

Children in danger, hunger and war persist; I’d say.

Strength, energy cursing inside; too young like fruit so tart.

 

Days filled with mutilation and murder do not chart.

Unsettled remote areas, barricaded from world; dead bodies lay.

Run run, thoughts of freedom bring tears young heart.

 

Find ways to safety do not be shot hauled off by cart.

No safe refuge, streets deserted; humans run from fray.

Strength, energy cursing inside; too young like fruit so tart.

 

World watches news comes so fast to be what part?

Hoping, we outsiders with shocked eyes do it today.

Run run, thoughts of freedom bring tears young heart.

 

Families, moms and dads, kids used to shop at mart.

Happy times, memories, celebrations of life; we pray.

Strength, energy cursing inside; too young like fruit so tart.

 

Society lessons unlearned disconnect seen in art.

Mighty wishes of peace, still; miracles in month of May?

Run run, thoughts of freedom bring tears young heart.

 

Strength, energy cursing inside; too young like fruit so tart.

 

*From Autumn Quotes by Caroline Clemens*

AutumnQuotesAmazonPurchase

 

 

Into the Vines

61boF6dC1pL._SX312_BO1,204,203,200_

Amazon

Above is my complete novel of fiction for Teens, YA, and Adults. The volume contains three books which are one continuous story written over three years. Yes, the amount of words >150K fit the Kindle price of 7.99. I’ve dabbled in covers but like this one with the vintage blue colors.

It’s my masterpiece and I would absolutely enjoy your opinion, through a review or just a comment on my social medias. Go back a couple posts on this blog and you’ll see all the contacts.

I’m going to write another novel because I’ve learned how to do it. People have said its a page turner, I should believe them. One thing is for sure I love to travel so you won’t set still in every chapter. I also love houses and gardens and rivers and oceans … you get the picture. Stories of families, love, adventure, illnesses, and adoption with modern realism are touchstones of my writing.

I know I’ll improve; how could I not? Thanks for following me and encouraging me, you know who you are!

To do list: make a newsletter, get a publisher, and write a couple books a year for many years. There ya go. Adios.

Kim

 

 

Novel Promo

INTO THE VINES by Kim Troike

amazonindexHello Sunday! Here’s what I’m doing to get the WORD out about my novel. First up I’m blogging, though, not quite as much as I’d like to. This will resume in a couple weeks. As an independent author doing it solo, occasionally, priorities set in like LIFE. I never knew wisdom teeth extraction was such a big deal, but it is, especially, when done times two at the same time in your teenagers. Its not funny at the moment but hey, this could end up being in my comedy when I get to that someday.

Blogging, Tweeting, Author book signings, Georgia Writer’s conferences, Amazon KDP promotions, Goodreads groups, and of course reading, writing and learning are all a part of my ways to shepherd my novel and works. We’ll see. Patience is my virtue and persistence comes naturally. Also, fun along the way is probably key. Why else do it if not for fun?

After I finished Into the Vines I realized I needed to spring clean my home as I hadn’t done that in about three years. Taking care of my kids, my self, hubby, pets and a job consumed every last second. Whoa! I’m almost finished and the place is looking fantastic. You know that feeling you get when you go around every room to make it sparkle before a huge party. Your face lights up as your guests give you compliments, and you feel delighted that your home is a castle, your castle!

So without further adieu the promo is beginning and will be in full tilt.

pinkpppMy blog theivorytide.com will post once a week articles pertaining to items from my novel, either information based or newsworthy, and definitely global when indicated. My other blog gardenlilie.com will showcase artists that I’ve met or know well. Poetry, posts and short fiction stories will be posted there, too. My author blog which is right here, carolineclemens.com focuses on the nitty gritty, the product of my creative endeavors.

Please join me for a drawing of a print copy of “Into the Vines.” Please leave your name and email below or you can email me @simplykim@bellsouth.net with that information. I will have the officials (teenagers) of the competition select a winner on May 1st. Shortly after, I’ll notify you and send the book on its way. Good luck to all.

by Kim Troike

pen Caroline Clemens

photo credit Amazon & Google Images

 

Synopsis

**Spoiler Alert**

Today I bring you a synopsis of French Bleu! I combined French Bleu, Bleu Moon, and Sapphire Souls into one novel titled, “Into the Vines.”

French BleuThis contemporary novel begins with Part One or French Bleu. If you don’t mind a spoiler or really want to know what this book is about then have a read.

The novel is G rated, however, it does contain an element of romance. Doesn’t everything begin with love?

Into the Vines

Into the Vines by Kim Troike
Part One of Three Parts
French Bleu Synopsis

French Bleu is a story of angst and the beautiful countryside of France with a unique jazz setting in Paris. The story itself starts off tragic and continues in this realm. Yet, throughout, glimpses of hope and love combine and put these characters to the test.
Daniela, a nurse saves a young boy in a car accident but cannot save his mother. The car explodes and burns and the boy is about four years of age. This is disturbing for Daniela (whose parents died in a plane crash) and her dad (a doctor) suggests she take a trip to a French Cooking School. She complies, buys new clothes, gets new haircut and meets Brie on the plane. Daniela, is, of course, afraid of flying. Brie looks the part, she’s refined in all ways, and going to the same school to celebrate a milestone Birthday, age 40.
When at the school they both meet the pilot brother, Olivier, of the cooking school owners, Marie and Nicholas. Olivier and Daniela make contact and immediately they are hot for one another. Something like a summer romance. He dazzles her with notes and dates and she thinks she’s gone to heaven. They even embark on a seaside trip around parts of France and then to Paris. Then he has to leave for a mission. She must wave him off in an airplane, this is difficult for her after she met and fell a little in love.
Meanwhile, after the trip, Brie confronts breast cancer and says what every woman would like to say. It is strong language and I wouldn’t change a word. Craftily, I put it in a dream so no one, I hope, will be wounded by swear words. (Deleted for G rating. Original French Bleu R rated and also available by itself on Amazon). She calls her new friend because she really liked her and knew her love interest flew away and now was missing. Daniela cannot handle the disappearance and becomes ill. He was supposed to visit her in America. He sent an important memento, a necklace of his deceased mother, to Daniela.
Daniela becomes very ill with cardiomegaly, a virus attacked her heart and she had enlargement over the course of days. Brie flies up and visits; while there, Daniela reads her phone and sees Olivier’s plane is down and she interprets this as he’s dead. This is crushing and she flails, her heart fails and she has crushing pain with ultimate death. Her dad is a doctor and understands all of it and it hurts him to no end. He wanted to save her and couldn’t. The plane death of her parents does enter into this and contributes with the news, only adding heart ache when Olivier’s plane goes missing.
Daniela is taken off life support after a beautiful display of love and affection by her family. The room was decorated, music was played and they gave her a quiet party prior to their mourning and loss. At the funeral, little Francis gives Brie a kiss on the cheek. He bonds with her in a way that is unusual. The girl who saved him is dead, he has no mother and now he sees this woman who cares for her friend. This is more than a touching moment. This impacts him for the future.
Olivier is kidnapped in Africa while on a mission and held. He befriends a little girl named Hawa; they become friends and later accomplices. Later at the Bleu in Paris, Olivier’s jazz club run by Darlene, a woman comes in looking for Olivier. She is wearing Olivier’s mother’s necklace. Darlene notices this but doesn’t tell her. She sends her up with a tray of food for a customer. Brie walks in and sees the Eiffel tower through a window as the curtains bellow out with the breeze. She sets the tray down and goes to the window. Olivier is laying in the bed after returning back from captivity. This is an exciting scene of surprise for both.
What few people know about breast reconstruction is the woman gets tattoos in addition to nipples. I use this in the story and touch lightly making it an exchange of wonderment and bravery, especially the whole breast cancer diagnosis. Olivier is not afraid and more worried about her, as not all women are married and some are scared they won’t measure up or be dateable after treatment. A little humor goes a long way.
They date, fall in love and visit America. Brie schedules a fashion show and showcases breast cancer and other diseases by women who have had the disease. Olivier comes to this event. She holds it in St. Michael’s, a very Old Catholic Church in Savannah. The priest is her uncle whom she’s prayed with in the past. He consents to let her use the church, she’s ecstatic.
Hawa, the orphan from Africa has come to live with Marie and Nicholas, who take in orphans due to the missions. This is not child abandonment, but rather a safe haven if no parent is found or no relatives available. This is the business they inherited from their parents at the vineyard.
Olivier and Brie visit the Louvre Art Gallery and also a private place where they paint and have some fun being artistic. He asks her to marry him and have a wedding at the vineyard, a Christmas wedding.
Darlene, the singer at the Bleu and also the person who runs Olivier’s jazz club is a special person to Olivier. He has helped her immensely. Her son has run off and she doesn’t know where he is. It has something to do with Olivier but this is not revealed as yet.
The ending occurs at the vineyard with everyone there. Other character are Michelle, a stunning blonde who is the sister of Marie, and Raoul, a gardener who comes to the vineyard for work. These two meet and become delighted with each other. The children play, crush grapes and much merriment abides. But Olivier becomes distressed as his time working the missions has caused some delayed reactions.
While everyone is occupied he goes off to be in his stone cabin by the river. He doesn’t make it as the fireworks are exploding all around him. He just thinks of the bombs and gunfire he has been exposed to. He runs for cover and once again his little cohort from Africa, a brave soul who has no other way to exist, finds him and saves him.
The two end up sleeping by the river for a few hours and then in the morning they go into his cabin where he makes breakfast and she asks her hero to teach her to read. The End.

The three novels are French Bleu, Bleu Moon and the final novel “Into the Vines” which contains the first two plus Sapphire Souls (not published singularly).

Yes, I published the first two with my pen name and then, in writing number three I combined the beautiful story of family and global issues under my given name. Thanks for stopping by. Kim Troike

http://www.amazon.com/French-Bleu-Caroline-Clemens-ebook/dp/B00INALACQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429022071&sr=8-1&keywords=Caroline+Clemens

http://www.amazon.com/Bleu-Moon-Caroline-Clemens/dp/1483686825/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1429022166&sr=8-2&keywords=Caroline+Clemens

 

Into the Vines by Kim Troike

YES, it’s here! I did it and believe it or not, I want to do it again. What is IT that is so fascinating? IT has taken three years to write my full length novel titled “Into the Vines.” The ideas came from everywhere and I loved it. Sometimes the novel wrote itself; I kid you not!

What’s it about you ask? Well, I heard this around the net water cooler. “Go read it for yourself.”

That is wonderful advice. As soon as the links are available I’ll have them here with confetti and ribbons and music. Yes, of course there will be music. I’ll need to think of a few songs.

Over the next few months I will be promoting this beautiful endeavor that consumed me, as I wanted to put forth the best effort I could. Now that’s just who I am, you know … born that way. Saddle up and go for a ride as I take you through trails far, far away, from January 21st until May 1st about ‘how and why’ on earth did I ever decide, write and finish my novel. Now that’s a long sentence, phew!

I’m smiling and laughing and kinda thinking that this is a lonely business, writing and all. But, I’m not a loner just comfortable in my own skin. That is until I start writing and then I come out of my skin like a snake. Ha-ha, gotcha. Seriously, thanks for stopping by. I’ve entered my novel in a few contests to see if it measures up to my own expectations. I’m self published and thank XLibris for formatting my masterpiece. I wanted that professional look for an easier read. See you around the campfire listening to a couple of guitar melodies.

Please visit gardenlilie.com and theivorytide for the cover release!

Kim Troike

Decatur Book Festival

Decatur Book FestivalThe Decatur Book Festival was this past weekend in downtown Decatur, Georgia. This is the second year I have attended this event. Last year my family and I attended; we walked around for hours listening to some of the speakers. Google Images.

Decatur Book FestivalThis year I entered my books and participated in the emerging authors venue. Our books were displayed on tables and sold by volunteers in the tent. Some authors purchased time to give a short speech or blurb about their books; this helps to sell books. Last year the emerging authors tent sold 7,000 books, a huge encouragement for new authors. That’s a lot of books! Google Images.

Decatur Book FestivalJoyce Carol Oates was the keynote speaker and here is a cover of one of her books. Other speakers gave talks at various places around downtown Decatur. My sister and I had hoped to hear Mary Kay Andrews, who spoke at the Presbyterian Church, but missed her talk. They had skits and poetry for children and also shopping and eating available. Google Images.

Decatur Book Festival Several breweries are nearby and this is a big draw for beer lovers. We tasted several kinds here at the Brick Store including Three Taverns Single Intent. Google Images.

Decatur Book FestivalThis is the Brick Store upstairs inside view with an extremely cozy atmosphere. I think the stone and wood combined with the glasses and lantern lighting make this a pretty photo by Kirk Adams.

Decatur Book FestivalThe festival is eclectic and has something for everyone. Vendors from all over offer authentic tastes and gifts, not to mention books galore. My daughter purchased a necklace handcrafted by a lady using silver, pearls and leather. It is beautiful and original! This is definitely a family affair. I talked with an art store owner and she is interested in my bird houses. I can send her my pics right to an email and she’ll let me know. How cool is that? Google Images.

The Decatur Book Festival is sponsored by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in Decatur, Georgia. We, of course, reminded our younger folks that Coca-Cola was invented right here in Decatur by a pharmacist at a soda shop. My brother-in-law came along for the afternoon, I mean beer, and after a stroll of the books we headed to Twain’s and ate lunch.

The youngest member of my entourage (lol) on Saturday and one of my biggest supporters is my own daughter. No, I didn’t have to careen or cajole or promise her anything. She wanted to go. A big thanks to my sister and brother-in-law and my husband and daughter for their support of my writing and authorship. It is nice to know that people appreciate others pieces of work in their creative endeavors. Mwah!!

~Caroline~pen

~Google Images Credit

~Photos by me