Writer. Exile on Peachtree Street.
Lover of all the finer things in life.
The art form I create when writing is much more interesting than anything you will ever know or learn about me. However, since you ask, I have lived in Tennessee and Georgia my entire life, except for one “lost summer” spent in Los Angeles. I was always a complex kid. My first published stories were for a local underground rock publication in Nashville. Since then, I have published articles on music, fashion, art, travel and history.
Currently, I have a music/entertainment blog @ExPatsPost.com. My debut novella, Fables of the Reconstruction, was published in 2012. Moon Rose Publishing included my novella, Magic in Memphis, available as a short story on Amazon, in their anthology, A Celtic Collection.
Edgar Allan Poe and Anne Rice have always fascinated me, although like any Southern girl, I will always idolize Margaret Mitchell for writing Gone With The Wind. I also adore the works of John Grisham, and own a huge selection of his books. I live in Midtown Atlanta, Georgia with my husband, my books, too many clothes, too many shoes and way too many stacks of notepads and journals.
October 2013 saw the launch of a novel collaboration, SEPTEMBER ENDS, contemporary fiction laced with romance, erotic and supernatural elements, bound by poetry. This novel is written with an anonymous English poet. SEPTEMBER ENDS has been labeled an “Indie Sensation” due the critical reception and international recognition the novel has received.
My newest venture is The Fortune Series. The Story of Dallas Fortune. This collection will be a series of short stories and novelettes chronicling the lives and loves of Dallas Fortune.
The release of Fortune Calling is scheduled for January 30, 2014.
Much more is on the way in 2014. Follow me to get all the latest announcements and updates.
You can connect with me at the following social media sites:
The first installment in The Fortune Series.
The Story of Dallas Fortune.
Guitars. Hillbilly Music. Nashville, Tennessee.
Dallas Fortune is a small town girl with a gift for playing guitar. A member of her family has played the Grand Ol Opry since it began as a simple radio show in 1925. But, they are the minstrels, the troubadours--session players--not stars.
Dallas lives her life on the road. She’s just another guitar player with a dream until she finds an antique blue mandolin in a pawn shop. Her life comes into focus as the enchantment of the mandolin captivates her audiences. The Guitar God of Nashville beckons her. Everything is there for Dallas at last, until a stage accident sends her home and shatters her dreams. Blow after blow she fights the hand of fate. Is she destined to lose out in life? Hope, dreams, and love seem to be just out of reach. Every girl dreams of a happy ending. Dallas Fortune has the best Fairy Godmother in Country Music history. Will she help make Dallas’ dreams come true?
Is the future among the stars, in the cards or locked in your heart?
Fortune Calling is the first story in The Fortune Series. Set in contemporary Nashville and rural Tennessee, the series chronicles the life and loves of Dallas Fortune.
TAGS: Fiction, Country Music, Nashville, Tennessee, Guitars, Short story, Contemporary
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20516112-fortune-calling
Read an excerpt
Billie Joe wasn’t all bad. That was part of the problem. All I had to do was hear his voice, feel the velvet softness of his lips…those strong arms wrapping around me…he became mine and no one else’s. We don’t have a relationship; we have an addiction to each other. I have to find the strength to break his spell, somehow…some way. Or, stay trapped in his web for the rest of my life.
The rain surrounds me in the form of a mist as I realize that I am standing in the driveway again, lost in dreams. Pulling the collar of my jacket around my neck to stop the chill, I walk to the back of the Cadillac again, just to check. We might be in the middle of nowhere in this valley but meth has made crime an epidemic. It gnaw at the fringes of our people. No one would steal the Cadillac out of respect for dad, but I’d had to threaten to shot a couple of boys trying to steal the tires and rims a few months ago. They were buzzed outta their minds. It’s a wonder they didn’t shot me, but they were just looking for something quick to steal and sell. One shot in the air and they ran like mice. They will steal an antique mandolin in a heartbeat. They ain’t getting Blue Belle. I probably would shot someone in order to save her.
Knowing the trunk is securely locked, I walk toward the front door of the little house. Before entering, I wipe my boots on the mat on the porch and shake my long, blonde hair to remove the moisture. Giving up, I finally wrap my hair into a makeshift ponytail and open the door. A wave of warmth and the smell of cinnamon greet me unexpectedly.
“Good afternoon, welcome. I am Ernesto Lorenze,” a friendly male voice says from the corner of the dark room. I look around to see a tall, dark haired guy pull himself upright from a chair seated behind an antique desk. Actually, his legs are so long it is as if he is unraveling himself from the desk and chair. That’s a long drink of water crosses my mind before I even have time to think. I feel a blush creep across my cheeks as I access his credentials, so to speak. He is young looking but possibly in his mid-30s. He is wearing some type of black top hat, dark shirt, and jeans. You have to wonder why he would want to cover those silky dark curls, which almost touch his shoulders. His eyes are a luscious black/brown too, with just enough spark when he smiles, which lets you know that he is fun and charming. Bet he smiles like that all the time, not just when he wants to take money from you for a card reading, but anytime. Anywhere. The dimples help with that assessment, too. The fortune teller is a gorgeous guy. How great is that? I feel excited about something for the first time in a long time. Surely THAT alone is an omen, but we shall see what we shall see.
The spell is momentarily broken when he sits down on the desk in front of me, crosses his arms, and furrows his dark brows. Is something wrong?
“An hour reading is 100 dollars. Half an hour only 50 dollars. What would you like today?” He looks at me and winks. Is he flirting with me? How unexpected. Why have I left the house with no make-up on?
Looking him in the eyes makes me wonder…What would I like today?
© 2014 Ra Jones Publishing
Buy the book: http://www.amazon.com/Fortune-