This week's spotlight is on Beverly Bateman author of Cruise to Remember.
Thanks for having me J.L.
I had a funny incident happen to me
lately which got me thinking about the traditional publishing industry. I
belong to RWA and a sub group called Kiss of Death. We have a writing contest,
the Daphne, for pubbed and unpubbed authors (traditional and indie) every year.
At the National conference every year we have a wonderful Death by Chocolate
party where we present the wards to the winners of our contest. We send out
invitations and invite editors and agents. They are very nice invitations. We
used to send them out by snail mail but now we send them as an attachment. I
sent them out about a month ago and got lots of replies, yes or no. This week I
got a response from an agent which said (not verbatim):
Dear
Author:
Thanks for your query.
As to your material, I am afraid I must pass. I represent a very full
list of writers, and must be highly selective in adding to it. I realize
that it is difficult to judge your potential from a query alone;
nevertheless, please know that we give serious attention to every
letter, outline and writing sample that we receive.
Thanks for your query.
As to your material, I am afraid I must pass. I represent a very full
list of writers, and must be highly selective in adding to it. I realize
that it is difficult to judge your potential from a query alone;
nevertheless, please know that we give serious attention to every
letter, outline and writing sample that we receive.
I sent them an invitation to a party
– nothing about a book. I’m so glad they give serious attention to everything
they receive. J
It got me thinking about all the
query’s I’ve sent and received similar responses. And I angst over them and
tried to improve my query letter because I was told it was so important. Now
I’m thinking, did they even open the query? I know some certainly did but
others...
I am so glad I chose to go indie,
despite its many challenges, but I’m in control and I don’t have to deal with
the traditional publishing industry which appears to be out of touch with
writers. Anyway, that’s my rant for today and I’d love to hear what other
people think.
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Blurb
Amnesia,
a cruise ship, a jewel theft ring and attempted murder combine to make it a
cruise to remember. Hallie Donald has been in an accident and has amnesia.
She’s traveling on the cruise as a companion. And someone is trying to kill
her.
She
doesn’t remember anything but someone
Interpol agent Eric Norby searches for jewel thieves on a Caribbean
cruise, but his main suspect is the woman he loves.
Excerpt from A Cruise To
Remember
She
stared down into the Austrian crystal champagne glass in her hand. She
salivated at the mere thought of taking a drink. Swirling the glass gently she
watched the golden liquid climb to the gold rim then rivulet down the sides.
I don’t need it. I’m not
an alcoholic.
Maybe not, but I sure as
hell want it.
She
tossed the contents into a nearby plastic palm tree container and deposited the
glass on a table she passed.
She
was working.
“Darling,
I missed you. Where did you disappear to?”
A
tall, dark-haired man in a navy blazer, with a family crest on the pocket, emerged
from the mass of bodies and sailed up to her. He glanced admiringly at her
dress, and then he slipped his arm across her bare back and slid it down until
it encircled her waist.
“I
brought you a drink.”
“Sorry
David, I needed a breath of fresh air.” She curled her fingers around the stem
of the crystal champagne glass he offered her. “Thank you. It’s a great party,
but I need to leave you again, for a minute. I have to make a phone call.”
She
slipped out of his proprietary hold. Her lips touched the edge of the glass and
she fluttered her eyelashes. She peered up through the dark fringe, meeting his
adoring look.
“But
I just found you. You know, I don’t think you’re really into this party. Is
there something wrong? I can get you something if it would help?” A touch of
petulance tinged David’s voice. His lower lip slid slightly forward as he
placed his hands on her shoulders, and gazed into her eyes.
She
knew exactly what he was offering. He’d been one of her main drug links in the
past.
“No
thanks, David, not tonight. I’m a little tired. I am enjoying the party. Mitzi
always throws wonderful extravaganzas. It’s only one call. I won’t be more than
a few minutes.”
“Can’t
you call whoever later?”
“Now,
David, don’t pout. I said I wouldn’t be long.” She pasted a smile on her lips.
Her mother would be proud of her.
“I’ll
be right back, and we can dance the rest of the night away, like old times.”
She pursed her lips together in a pout and walked her fingers slowly up the
front of his tailored blue blazer. Her eyes locked in his until she reached the
lapel and then she removed his hands from her shoulders.
“You
promise?” His lower lip protruded slightly more.
She
touched his cheek; the silver ring on her finger sparkled and caught the light
from a chandelier.
“Of
course, I promise. Now, David, you have to let me go. And remember, the next
dance is mine. See if you can get them to play something slow and romantic.
I’ll be right back.”
Her mother had taught her well. She hadn’t
appreciated it until now.
“Hurry
back. It’s lonely without you.” He grasped her hand from his cheek, kissing her
fingertips. “By the way, are you on for the trip tomorrow? We could leave from
my place in the morning.”
“What
trip?” She withdrew her fingers.
“You
don’t know? Some of the gang is flying to Paris for a few days, to do some
shopping and take in the Lido. You know--just for fun. Julie’s dad said we
could use his private plane. Come with us.”
“Oh,
David, I don’t think so. I... I’ve got things I need to do.”
“That
can always wait, Paris can’t. Come on, you’ve never hesitated before.”
“True,
but it’s short notice. I’ll think about it.” The smile on her face was
beginning to hurt. All she wanted to do right now was to escape from this damn
party.
“If
you change your mind, we’re meeting out at the airport tomorrow around noon. If
you don’t leave from my place, pack a bag and meet us there. Paris is always
great fun. Remember?”
“I
remember. We’ll see.” She slinked across the marble dance floor toward the
library. Her hips undulated in time with the beat of the music.
Her
eyes scanned the room, noting the objects d’art in the cabinets on the small
tables placed subtly around the room. They looked like things a thief might
want to steal. And then there were the original paintings that hung on the
walls. It wasn’t up to her to offer advice to a thief, but he was missing a lot
of great stuff. Her job was to make sure he wasn’t hiding in the library,
stealing the family jewels.
Fingers
circled the brass doorknob. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes
squinting into the dimly lit atmosphere, searching for anything out of the
normal.
Dense
clouds of smoke hung across the room, accompanied by a strong, pungent odor.
The clouds thickened over the areas where the lavishly dressed young people
lounged in small clusters alongside the dance floor. Wispy strands of the smoke
sneaked out from the dense mass, stretching their fingers to the far corners of
the room, leaving no one free from at least a breath or two of the cloying
cloud. Underneath the fog the group chattered--smoking and laughing
loudly--perhaps louder than necessary.
Were they really enjoying
themselves and their lives?
She
shrugged. It was their life--not hers any longer.
No
sign of any criminal activity here. Gino must have his information wrong. She’d
give him a quick call and let him know nothing was going down tonight. Then
she’d get out of here.
A
warm bath filled with her favorite bubble bath and maybe Mozart playing in the
background sounded pretty inviting right about now.
What made me think I could
be a private investigator? My father was a successful businessman. I’d hoped to
follow in his footsteps and become a successful businesswoman. Right now I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to
do with the rest of my life. But thanks to Gino at least I have one more
chance. I have no intention of blowing it.
The
latest dance band blasted forth from the four expensive speakers located
strategically around the room. Pictures rocked on the walls, shifting positions
as the music vibrated back and forth. Small pieces of china appeared to move,
snail like, as the music assaulted them.
Voices
rose and fell, punctuated by the occasional burst of raucous laughter--another
weekend gathering of the young and the wealthy in the Florida beach area.
She
wasn’t the same person who had partied with these people a few months ago.
Finally, she was working on becoming the person she wanted to be--once she
figured out who that person was. This was the first big step.
She turned the
doorknob. After she called Gino, she’d escape and head home.
Champagne
glass in one hand, she fumbled for the light switch with her other one. Light
flooded the room. She glanced around. A sickly scent reached her nostrils.
Her
glass crashed to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces.
She
opened her mouth to scream.
“Damn,” he growled as he slithered silently
across the room, covering the distance between them in two smooth strides.
She froze, unable to make a sound.
Their eyes locked. She found herself staring into a pair of dark, hostile eyes.
Kicking the door shut, he covered her open, voiceless mouth with a gloved hand.
She stared, mesmerized. There was pain.
Then everything faded to black.
Bio
I’m
a Canadian author and live in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, BC. It’s
beautiful country with lots of large lakes, beautiful beaches, orchards of
apples, pears, peaches plus raspberries, blueberries and lots of other fresh
produce. And of course, it’s wine country. We have world class wines which I
feel is my obligation to taste.
I love to hear from people and you
can find me at:
Purchase Cruise to Remember @
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