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Alyssa Richards

Mystery, Thriller, and Suspense

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The Fine Art of Completion

December 16, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

grd7159Just emailed the last draft of The Fine Art of Deception, Book 1 to the proofreader for the final read-through. YAH!! Completion. What an amazing feeling. My husband and I celebrated by enjoying a bottle of French wine in front of the nearly-decorated Christmas tree. (Love French wine – no sulfites!)

It was a little over a year ago a friend interrupted our tome of an email thread to say I ought to write fiction. And I took her up on the challenge. Yes, so it took me over a year to complete Book 1. Glacial speed, I admit. But I’d never written fiction before so I kept taking writing breaks to educate myself on the process.

Here’s hoping that Books 2 & 3 move along far more quickly! Yes, Books 2 and 3 🙂 I’m already 32,000 words into Book 2, and having so much fun with it. I so vividly remember the day I literally sat down that day and starting writing! 95,000 words later, here we are. Fat and happy.

Ok, not really all that fat. But really happy. Though I do think that writing should burn far more calories than it does. It’s hard work and it should show in the waistline.

Book 1 will probably release in late January or early February. Valentine’s Day? Maybe 🙂 It’s a great love story. And a great mystery.

Meanwhile, I’m letting readers know that ARCs (Advance Review Copies) are due to be mailed out January 12th. Maybe sooner! All depends upon how quickly the proofreader returns the ms. If you’d like to read an ARC just email me and I’ll make sure you get one! alyssa@paranormalromancebooks.com

Now I have to get back to writing. You won’t believe it. Blake & Addie just -. Well, you’ll see. 🙂

oxox

 

Filed Under: Writing Tagged With: The Fine Art of Deception, writing

Congratulations to our October Winner! Amazon Gift Card – Woot!

November 5, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

 

25-Amazon-Gift-Card

Congratulations to D. Lankford, our October Drawing Winner! She registered at www.paranormalromancebooks.com, to receive news and updates. Of all the October registrants her name was drawn to win the $25 Amazon.com Gift Card !  Yay, Ms. Lankford!!!

There will be another drawing this month, so if you haven’t yet signed up – please do!!

 

 

 

Filed Under: Giveaways

Visiting the Princes in the Tower

October 29, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

The Two Princes in the Tower
The Two Princes in the Tower

Blake and I walked through The Tower of London, an historical monument to royalty, imprisonment and executions. Having psychometric gifts, the ability to obtain information from an object though touch, I was initially concerned about the tour. I didn’t want to relive any beheadings.

The tour started innocently enough, even when we walked over the waterway where prisoners, including Elizabeth I, had been rowed into the Tower.  We stood in the spot where Anne Boleyn was beheaded in 1536. The spot didn’t hold much more unsettling energy than the rest of the Tower, so I was still fine. Of course, neither was I on my hands and knees trying to gather information. I probably could have, but wouldn’t that have been a sight for tourists and Tower employees to behold.

We saw the Queen’s jewels. Those I would have LOVED to touch, such history and exquisite story I would have had access to! Royals put up a pleasant front, but don’t you know they have some pretty engaging stories buried behind their smiles. But, sadly, touching the royal jewels is frowned upon. So, they display them behind thick, layered, bullet-proof glass. And they make you stand on a conveyor belt so you won’t gawk at the jewels too long and create a backup of angry tourists. Tragic.

We traveled through several other displays in the castle. Other than the drag of crowd energy, I was still doing well.

That is, until we were led to the area where the two princes were imprisoned and, according to history, murdered by their uncle.

The Princes in the Tower: 12 year-old Edward V, and 9 year-old Richard, Duke of York were the sons of King Edward IV. When the King died, his brother, Richard III, had the boys declared illegitimate so he could take the throne. He had them imprisoned in the Tower in 1483.

The legend is that Richard III had the princes murdered so that no one would contest his right to the crown. However, there is also a legend, that Henry Tudor, who wanted the crown as well, was the one who had the two princes murdered. This legend suggests that any guilt placed on Richard III was Tudor propaganda to enhance Henry’s image.

With several centuries between me and the murders of the two princes, and the imprinted energy of several million tourists who passed through the corridors, I wasn’t too worried about the tour. Like the spot where Anne Boleyn was murdered, I wasn’t going to drop to the floor of their small room and try to channel history. Really, I was happy to let the mystery stay a mystery.

We entered the claustrophobic, stone entry room along with what felt like several hundred unknown friends. There probably weren’t that many fellow tourists around us, but in that tiny room it definitely felt that way. Waiting our turn to wind up the narrow staircase, we stood at bottom of the stairs. Suddenly I felt someone’s distant panic, extreme distress. The kind of terror that made them drop to their knees, lose control of their bowels, because they knew their lives were over.

My breath kicked in to a pant and I lost my balance.

Blake felt me wobble and he squeezed my hand to give support. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I smiled. “Fine.” I could do this. There had been so many people in and out of this tower over time, who knew what I was picking up on.

There’s some odd mentality among tourists when it comes to personal space. The same people who would normally afford others their own area, change in a tourist environment and begin pushing and shoving. The closer, the better, seems to be the rule of the day. Which is discouraging when the guy behind you is flooding what little oxygen is left in the room with his nicotine breath, and the gal in front of you – at least I think it was a gal – has no concept of a daily bathing habit, much less her desperate need for deodorant.

The room gave a little twirl and I squeezed Blake’s hand tighter as we continued to climb, the crowd so squished together that we looked more like a caterpillar than a group of historically curious adults.

Blake leaned in closer, “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” It’s not like there was a way out of this conjoined crowd, anyway. And wow, remembering that just really didn’t help.

“The two princes were murdered in this very room sometime between 1483 and 1485,” the tour guide yelled down the stairwell.

The gal, or whatever it was, behind me gave another push forward and I lost my balance. I reached for the stone wall beside me and gripped at it for safety. But what I got in return was far more than the equilibrium that I sought. The screams traveled through my hand, up my arm then took possession of my mind.

The caterpillar inched forward and I moved along, but all I could see was darkness. There was a struggle, young boys screaming. Screaming. There were several large men with knives. Then silence as they carried the bodies down the stairs. Bloody hand prints on the wall and men who lamented killing innocent children.

The farther we climbed, the more panic kicked in my heart until I finally had to stop. “I can’t go any farther,” I said breathlessly. “I just can’t.” The walls still breathed with the anxiety and despair from the two young boys who knew they would die.

I turned around and ran into the next section of the caterpillar who was still pushing forward. “Oh, come on!” she bellowed.

“Madam, step aside,” Blake said authoritatively. She grunted and leaned toward the wall, sensed nothing whatsoever.

I inched down the steps until a broad man blocked my path. “Traffic’s going that way,” he said and pointed upward toward the boys’ chamber.

“Actually, this traffic is traveling this way,” Blake said.

“Excuse me,” I said toward the man’s chest.

We stood at the impasse until Blake reached out and slammed the man toward the wall, giving me enough space to pass.

“Thank you,” I said.

When we reached the bottom of the steps I paused again as the screams faded, but the terror remained. “They were buried … here.” I pointed at a small area of the floor.

“Yes, that’s the rumor,” said another tour guide who appeared from around the corner. “But no one is certain.”

“I’m certain,” I said to Blake as we walked away.

 

 

 

Filed Under: Paranormal

Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

October 14, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

Register to Win an Amazon $25 Gift Card!
Register to Win an Amazon $25 Gift Card!

Check out the home page and register to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

A winner will be drawn each month from NEW Registrants. Sign up to win!

 

Filed Under: Giveaways

How to Get Away With Murder

October 13, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

How to Get Away With Murder
How to Get Away With Murder

How to Get Away With Murder. This is my new favorite show.

Not because of the acting, or the writing, though both are great. It’s another Shonda Rimes show, so you know the chances are high that the writing and the acting will be strong. But I like it because in the first episode, the lead character tells the group that they may think they know their best friend, their roommate, their neighbor, spouse or lover. But they don’t.

This is so true.

Can you see me high-fiving the TV?

Until you’ve been psychic – really, very psychic, you don’t know anyone.

I was having lunch with two friends about ten years ago. Tom said that most of the men he knew had cheated on their wives. The few he thought hadn’t cheated were either 1. Thinking about it, or 2. Better than most about lying about it.

Christina said that she knew – KNEW – her husband had never cheated.

I just nodded. I’d been cheated on several times. And I also had that funny feeling that Christina was fooling herself.

A couple of weeks passed and I thought maybe I had escaped the dirty details of whatever her husband had been up to. But, no. In an unguarded moment all those details came flooding forth. He hadn’t just cheated on her once, but several times. Many times. They’re divorced now. Though she still leans on him for financial support. He even co-signed on her home loan. Odd situation.

Then, last week I had dinner with my friend Jennie at the Pearl Oyster Bar in the West Village. She went on. And on. And on about a political candidate that she really thinks is flawless. She was not only reading from his press releases, but had ingested the entire pitcher of his toxic Kool-Aid. It was nauseating. Everything she said was a repeat of some opinion she’d heard on tv or the radio. She didn’t have one authentic thought.

He’s run on the platform of supporting women and minorities. “I’m sort of obligated to vote for him,” she said.

Really? But what about reality? What about who he really is and what his real agenda is? Aren’t you obligated to see that, too? For your sanity?

I don’t have the luxury of seeing only the sanitized image of politicians and celebrities that is put out for public consumption. Instead I’m the kid who stands in the crowd and says, “Hey! The King has no clothes on!”

A real buzz kill, I know.

So, while people are worshiping some image the press camp has put out for the world to swallow hook, line and sinker, I’m standing on the sidelines shaking my head. Sometimes I’m there by myself. Until someone else catches on. Which often takes a while.

No political candidate is flawless. Because our political system is built for those pursuing power. And if you’re not savvy enough to see that, then I have some land I’d like to sell you.

“Oh, but look at his family,” she said. “I think he’s such a sweetheart.”

Really? He took a choreographed walk while holding hands with his wife and you swallowed that media image? Wow.

I get that people need someone to believe in. But there are so many people, who are far more worthy and with far more integrity than a politician or a celebrity who deserve your admiration. Wake up, people.

Sometimes people are brilliant con artists. (I would put most politicians in that category.) I get that. The world is full of stories of men and women who conned someone into believing they are someone they aren’t.

Most women I know have been fooled by a man or three. Sara, a former co-worker of mine, has terrible taste in men. Terrible. She is SO easily fooled by men.

We could be standing in a room of 200 eligible men, and she’ll pick out the most fucked up one in the bunch and take him home. Then  she’ll email me endlessly about how he’s taken advantage of her in some way. I’m hoping she’ll stay single for a while.

She’ll find the one who is secretly married, has issues with possessiveness or is just destined to jack with her in some way. Only every time.

She has her share of Daddy issues. I’m sure a therapist would have a field day tracing her appetite for inappropriate men back to her desire to save her father from his emotional suffering. She’s always trying to rescue someone. But I also wonder if Sara has ever been interested in seeing people for who they really are.

Honestly, like so many women, she would rather see the romanticized image he puts forth. She wants the dream. Not the reality.

Aw, look at the pretty picture. He’s such a sweetheart. Yeah. Right. Call me when you’ve left the land of delusion.

This is how women end up losing everything from their happiness to their money to their lives to men. Because when they met Mr. Wonderful, they preferred the romantic, fuzzy around the edges, Disney-esque view they projected onto him, as opposed to the reality that lurked beneath. Because what fun would that be, right?

Oh, and Jennie who loves her political candidate so much? She’s been married and divorced three times now, I think. Once to a guy who turned out to be a drug addict, he took all their money and wasted it on his addiction. I could go on about her other two husbands, but you get the idea. I just don’t understand why, after all she’s been through, that she wouldn’t at least develop an appetite for wanting to see people more clearly. Maybe she likes the drama.

Women, people, are so easily fooled, not because the con artist is so talented, but most often because people just don’t want to see what’s really there. I get that.

I may not always like the discouraging information I psychically see about people, but honestly, at the end of the day I’d rather see than not see.

 

 

Filed Under: Mystery Tagged With: happiness, Murder

Thinking about writing baseball romance books

October 6, 2014 by Alyssa Leave a Comment

photo copy 2

Here I sit, watching baseball and thinking of writing baseball romance books… So many good ideas – definitely a series.

Maybe erotica this time! Just to spice it up…

Filed Under: Miscellaneous, News

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