The Writers Studio: AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT - Caroline Clemmons + Giveaway!

This week we shine the spotlight on author Caroline Clemmons

BIO

Through a crazy twist of fate, Caroline Clemmons was not born on a Texas ranch. To make up for this tragic error, she writes about handsome cowboys, feisty ranch women, and scheming villains in a small office her family calls her pink cave. She and her Hero live in North Central Texas cowboy country where they ride herd on their rescued cats and dogs. The books she creates there have made her an Amazon bestselling author and won several awards

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Thank you for joining us today, Caroline! Let's find out a bit more about you!

I ask our guest 5 questions. Then I give them a list of more questions for them to select 3 of their own.

Here's My Five:

I’m always asked ‘where do you get your ideas’. So, where do you get yours?

They spring up from everywhere—a snatch of conversation, a news story, a bit of history I’ve read, the recesses of my subconscious. A friend says she buys hers from a small factory in Ohio. Wish I could think of an answer that clever.

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

That depends on the story. Usually, the characters come first and play like a movie in my head, which also means they’re in the setting. What they’re doing/saying ignites the plot. Once in a while, I come up with an idea for a series and start with a different angle. For instance, I decided to write a series about seven women who came to North Central Texas as guests of a widow and called it the Bride Brigade. After the concept, then I created the characters.

Which of your heroines most represent you, or the ‘you’ you’d like to be? Why?

Each of them represents a tiny part of me, just as each character does—including the villain. In my opinion, everything that happens to us and how we react becomes a part of our core. We can’t keep from using that in our writing. Why would we want to?

What is the single most important part of writing for you?

Keeping in mind that writers are entertainers! We can’t have an axe to grind or preach to readers.

What’s the most romantic thing a guy can do (or has done) for you?

Since he retired, my Hero cooks, cleans the kitchen, mops, and does his laundry. You can see why I call him Hero!

Caroline's Three:

What is your writing routine once you start a book?

I do background research, make a loose outline/premise sketch, open a Word document, and start putting down words. Recently, I’ve added Dragon Speech Recognition Software. So far, my Southwestern twang is sometimes a puzzle for Dragon but we’re both learning. J I am not a morning person, so I check social media in the morning, stagger around looking for my hot tea or a Dr Pepper, and do little chores like my laundry or play with the pets. Sometime in early afternoon I focus on my story. If I’m not too tired, I go back to my office when Hero goes to bed after we’ve spent the evening together. (He’s one of those who wakes cheerful and energetic but turns in at a reasonable time.) I’m most productive from eight or nine in the evening until about three in the morning and those hours don’t mesh well with most of the population’s time schedule.

If money were not an object, where would you most like to travel?

Hero and I have wished the next time we go to Ireland/the UK we could rent a one-story cottage for a month or two, get a rail pass, and travel to the places we haven’t seen.

City Girl or Country Girl

I prefer city life, although Hero and I lived in a rural area for many years. Doesn’t even have to be a city--could be a small town as long as there are stores, paved streets, city services, etc.

Now, let's talk about your book:

Blurb

How can two people from different eras own the same ranch?

Penelope Jane Terry is determined to send to jail the rustlers who believe they can steal what is hers… until she is caught spying on their dirty works and must ride for her life. What Penny doesn’t count on is being hurtled over a 120 years into the future.

Jake Knight believes the attractive woman who stumbled into his home one rainy evening either has amnesia or is certifiably insane. Unless, that is, she is in league with whoever is trying to drive him out of business. Someone is trying to force him to sell his ranch by staging a string of damaging incidents. Even if he were stupid enough to wish to sell, the ranch is so firmly entailed that no one can break the conditions.

Jake gradually learns Penny is who she claims, no matter that time travel is supposed to be impossible. They’re locked into a clash that it seems only one of them can win. If an outsider weren’t trying to kill Jake as well as bankrupt him, perhaps he and Penny might be able to reach an agreement. Then, there is that mythical treasure… or is it real?

Excerpt

She should have gone around to the back door, but she couldn’t walk another step. Weariness and sore muscles overwhelmed her and she wanted nothing more than to shuck out of her wet things and lie in her nice bed—if she could summon the energy to walk upstairs. She heard footsteps approaching and raised one foot. Eyes closed, she leaned back against the stairs.

“Had me a passel of trouble, Jake. Help me get these danged boots off, would you? Then I’ll tell you all about it.” A dog’s cold nose pressed against her cheek. She jumped and pushed her hair out of her eyes. A black and white dog stared at her. “Who are you?”

“His name’s Rascal.” An unfamiliar baritone said, “He’s mine.”

She looked up.

Whoa! The man who faced her wasn’t Jake. In spite of her wariness, her mouth dropped open in awe. Instead of her arthritic middle-aged cook, this man was young and tall and definitely fit. And handsome. Unbelievably, mesmerizingly handsome.

He might be as comely as a fairy tale prince, but the regal disapproval on his face appeared anything but friendly.

Energized by fear, she jumped to her feet and grabbed her rifle. “Who the heck are you?”

He crossed his arms and ignored the Winchester pointed at his middle. His dark hair glistened in light that seemed too bright. Dark blue eyes had tiny creases at the corners, as if he laughed a lot.

He sure wasn’t laughing now.