Showing posts with label you tube book trailer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label you tube book trailer. Show all posts
Friday, 20 September 2013
VIRTUAL BOOK TOUR - Windshift by Joyce Faulkner - Historical Fiction
Title - Windshift
Author - Joyce Faulkner
Genres: Historical Fiction, Women's Fiction, Young Adult Fiction
Tour Dates 9-16-13 to 9-23-13
Buy Links:
Amazon US - Click here
Amazon UK - Click here
Blurb:
Shirley Maxwell is a troubled young woman facing a complicated personal life, a culture that restricts female options, and a world at war. Yet, together with friends — Emmie, Delores, and Mags — she joins Jackie Cochran's Women's Air Service Pi-lots program (WASP) and participates in the adventure, challenges, and tragedies of the 1940's with determination and courage. Shirley and her friends know what they are tackling will be hard, but they do
it anyway and relish the effort. In the process, they change what is possible in the minds of young girls everywhere. Lively and moving, Windshift inspires and educates. Appropriate for history buffs interested in the World War II era, students of social change, those who love tales of derring do and those who just love airplanes.
Reviews:
“Windshift takes the reader on a journey with four women who are caught up in change greater than themselves. We gain and lose along with our heroines and in the end we are rooting for all of them to achieve the ultimate triumph.”
~ Paul R. Bruno, The History Czar®
“Joyce Faulkner’s extensive research for Windshift springs to life through her
fresh voice and effortless style — a combination that captivates the reader.
e characters of this story, which illustrates blatant sexism during World War II and the shame of our government’s lack of pay, benefits, and support for the WASP, linger long beyond the final page.”
~ Bonnie Bartel Latino, former columnist for Stars and Stripes newspaper in Europe, and co-author of Your Gi ft to Me, a military romance novel.
“Triumph in the face of adversity, grace under pressure, and the “civilian” valor of our Women Air Service Pilots (WASP) come together in a compelling and inspiring read that is a tribute to the brave, pioneering spirit of our female pilots.”
~ Sandra Beck/ Military Mom Talk Radio
“Sweeping. Riveting. One of the best novels I've read in years. Come let Shirley, Emmie, Delores, and Mags wing their way to your heart. Joyce Faulkner is one of those rare storytellers who spins words into gold. Windshift is so well written that you’ll forget you’re reading a story.”
~ Kathleen M. Rodgers - author of the award-winning novel The Final Salute and soon to be released Johnnie Come Lately.
“Don't start this book if you don't have time to finish it! Windshift will grip you and charm you and hold on to your heart. “
~ Carmen Stenholm, award-winning author of Crack Between the Worlds.
Excerpt: *
Chapter 1
The Windshift Inn
“The country is at war — not just our young men —
but all of us.”
~ George Maxwell, CEO American View
Communications
September, 1943
I’m a pilot. It’s an unusual occupation for a woman, but I didn’t have a
choice. I had some trouble in college and wanted to quit. As you can
imagine, Father objected. Then he did a story on Amelia and realized I
might be useful. He bought a small plane and paid for my lessons. For five
years after that, I flew him from place to place. It was handy for the editor
of a magazine and he could keep an eye on me — the perfect daughter
gone wrong.
I’d still be his personal pilot if it weren’t for the war. He heard through his
connections that Jackie Cochran was recruiting women pilots for a special
assignment. He thought if I was part of the program, I could send him
newsy little nuggets from time to time. I think he also felt bad he didn’t
have a son to send off to fight Tojo or Hitler. He arranged for my interview
before I ever heard about the Women’s Air Force Service Pilots. What could
I do but supply the man his paternal bragging rights? After all, it got me
out from under his thumb. Almost.
I am a cautious, mediocre pilot but I was accepted into the program anyway.
Father must have put in the fix. Training began in May of 1943 at Avenger
Field in Sweetwater, Texas. There were twenty girls in my class. Every one
of them was much more qualified than me. We lived in long barracks that
we called bays and it was one long pajama party. I kept to myself. I didn’t
want to disappoint Father again so I worked hard to keep up. Fourteen of
us graduated in August. Our initial mission was to ferry aircraft around
the country for the Army. My first assignment was in Cold Creek, Ohio —
two hours south of Cleveland by train. We tested new planes as they came
off the Wiley Aircraft assembly line and then delivered them to Camp
Morgan in California.
Jackie Cochran arranged for us to stay in a boarding house just outside
Cold Creek with the unlikely name of The Windshift Inn. The owner was
a widow in her late forties by the name of Myrtle Jones. She worked as a
welder during the day and cooked for her guests in the evening. One thing
I can say about Myrtle, she kept a nice neat place. I always felt better when
I was at the inn.
I was assigned to the third floor, which was divided into two big rooms. The
south dormitory was the largest, filled with six workers from the aircraft
factory. The WASP took the north suite, which had room for four girls.
Each of us had a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a small writing table.
There wasn’t a wardrobe. You need to hang things up for them to look nice.
Other than that, the space was adequate. I was the first one to check in so
I got my pick of beds. I chose the one without a window.
I was unpacking when a plain young woman came in and threw her bags
on the bed nearest the door. “How ya doing, hoss?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m Emmie Hopkins.” She shook my hand.
I thought she should do something about all those freckles — stay out of the
sun or bleach them or cover them and her bangs were too long for someone
her age. “My name’s Shirley Maxwell,” I told her and went back to hanging
my clothes on the freestanding rack Myrtle found for me.
Emmie pulled open the top drawer of her dresser and dumped the contents
of her suitcase into it. I pretended not to notice. “I think one of your dresses
is out of order there, Shirley,” she said and then laughed when I hurried to
check it in alarm. “Gotcha!”
I never liked being teased — it was seldom funny and it always hurt. “Who
else is staying here, do you know?” I tucked a lavender sachet into the
pocket of my robe before I hung it on the rack facing right, just before my
blouse section.
About the Author:
JOYCE FAULKNER has been writing and winning awards since she was 15 years old. Losing Patience, a collection of short fiction, was given an honorable mention from Writers’ Notes Magazine in 2005. Her first novel, In the Shadow of Suribachi received a Gold Medal for Historical Fiction from Military Writers Society of America (MWSA) in 2006 and Honorable ention from Branson Stars and Flags in 2010. Sunchon Tunnel Massacre Survivors written
with co-author Pat McGrath Avery took First Place in Biography from Branson Stars and Flags in 2010.
Role Call: Women’s Voices— also written with Pat McGrath Avery — was First Place in Branson Stars and Flags 2011 for a Non fiction Anthology. In July 2013, MWSA named Joyce and two other fine authors finalists for Author of the Year. In addition, the audio version of USERNAME was nominated for an MWSA award. The results will be announced the end of September, 2013.
In August of 2013, Windshift received the Silver Medal for Historical Literature Contemporary (1940 - NOW) in Dan Poynter’s Global eBooks Awards Program.
Joyce’s background includes a career in engineering and business. She’s written for a variety of publications — from the American Oil and Gas Journal and Ag Pilot International to Salute, the Branson Bugle, and MWSA Dispatches. Her articles, columns, and stories
have appeared in a number of online ezines including Women’s Independent Press, Scribe & Quill, and the Celebrity Cafe. Her book For Shrieking Out Loud is a compilation of her
column with Celebrity CafĂ©.com “ e Weekly Shriek.”
Joyce served as the President of Military Writers Society of America from 2009-2012. She’s also a book and magazine designer and ghostwriter.
Joyce Faulkner’s books move and intrigue — and are at-out fun to read. Writing in a variety of genres, her stories focus on the complexities of life — those things that make one think. They can scare the pants off of you — and then make you laugh. They make you cry and they make you wonder why things are the way they are. She tells the stories that others can’t tell for themselves.
Author links
Website - www.joycefaulkner.com
Twitter - @JoyceFaulkner, @Windshi ft
Facebook - www.facebook.com/JoyceFaulkner
Facebook Book - https://www.facebook.com/WindshiftbyJoyceFaulkner
Book Trailer
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Desborough, Northamptonshire, England
Desborough, Northamptonshire, UK
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Book Feature, Review ! Sunspots by Karen S Bell
Welcome to todays blog Guest, Karen S Bell. She is here to showcase her book "Sunspots".
Paperback: 236 pages
Purchase links -
Amazon US // Amazon UK // Smashwords
Book Blurb
Sunspots follows the healing journey of a young woman thrown into the horror of losing a spouse. It is a story of loss and redemption and the ghosts that haunt our lives and our houses.
Although I had started to speak, I immediately fell speechless creating another awkward moment as his dark flame-throwing eyes studied my face. He was smiling and I could see dimples forming on either side of his mouth. We just stood there, apart, in silence, yet there was an unmistakable sexual tension gluing us together like Kelly McGillis and Harrison Ford in Witness or Omar Shariff’s Dr. Yuri Zhivago and Julie Christie’s Lara Antipova. When he finally spoke, he asked me if I could recommend a good restaurant nearby elongating his vowels in a cute Southern accent that I would later learn was peculiar to Texans.
“If you like French cuisine, there is a wonderful place right around the corner, La Grenouille. I believe it’s quite popular with some of the executives here,” I said no longer mute, and handed him a business card that was kept in a stack on the desk.
“Would it be too much trouble, ma’am, for you to call and make a reservation?” he asked in a faux subservient manner. “I can’t understand French accents, especially over the phone.”
“Of course… sir,” I said returning his request with sugary sarcasm. I was, after all, nobody’s secretary and certainly not of the vintage that brought forth ma’am from the lips of a virile stranger. When I got the restaurant on the phone, I looked up and asked casually, “For what time, sir?”
And then he paused, looked at me with a gleam in his eye and said quite softly, “Well, let’s see. What time is good for you?”
Shocked but not rattled, I responded without any hesitation, “Now,” I said steadfastly meeting his gaze, “Now is perfect.”
And that’s how I met Jake Stein and sealed a future that fate ordained. Life-changing events seem to come when you’re ready even if you’re not aware of their import. Intuition can nudge feelings into your conscious space making a seemingly ordinary encounter, like a dropped book, one of great significance. Somehow, I understood that then and I understand that now. Meeting Jake Stein was my dance with destiny.
We instantly harmonized, interacting on two levels. The overt reality of the commonplace chitchat, sexually charged banter, and frothy intellect contrasted with a covert reality, a place where everything had deeper meaning, connection, and familiarity. In some cosmic way, our unspoken language was far more important than the spoken. Scientists might describe our attraction as the interaction of airborne pheromones—chemical messages emitted through our skin conveying our primal sexuality. Indeed, we seemed to be enchanted at the deepest levels of our instincts. Two realties happening at once—the outer and the inner—one a slick manifestation of the intelligentsia, the other a calming and gentle journey afloat a timeless river.
Throughout our initial encounter, playing faintly in my mind was the music from the sappy but tender, A Man and a Woman, my mother’s favorite movie when she was a teenager and strangely at odds with her penchant for a counter-culture way of life. She played the album all through my childhood—sealing my connection with whispery French sounds to all things romantic. And so that haunting melody was my personal soundtrack as we walked to La Grenouille.
My prudent study of this man, this Jake Stein, as we nonchalantly strolled along, was intentionally unintentional—I absorbed him as if he were liquid. My senses were on high alert, a spy observing my target in secret. Now, wafting about my face and filling the air around me was a hint of soap and expensive cologne. Now, smooth fingertips lightly touched and guided my arm bringing an explosion of sensuality but also feeling like a safe harbor. Now, upon my ear, the pleasant cadence and timbre of his voice sounded like a sweet symphony. My darting eyes savored his honey-tanned and smooth complexion and nose of quality, straight and sharp (but not too sharp). Luxurious thick, jet black, wavy hair fell casually over intense brown eyes. There was strength, a physical strength to his tall, elegant, Jeremy Irons frame. A noble grace to this huckster businessman. And his sensuous lips with just a hint of fullness, lips that I could almost taste—wanted to taste—formed words so provocatively. Later, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I would relive, with a slow and deliberate progression, these mesmerizing details that stirred me to my core.
About the Author
Karen S. Bell continues to be in awe of the magical and wondrous phenomenon called life. As an observer and obvious participant in feminine values and approach to our human challenges, she brings this perspective to her work. Fascinated by the mysteries of the unseen forces that perhaps play a role in guiding our choices, she continues to search for answers in the mundane as well as in the cosmic forces that surround us. She is working on her third novel and lives in Ponte Vedra, Fl. with her husband and their two furry kids.
See Jera's Jamboree blog page for an interview with Karen
Click here
Paperback: 236 pages
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (5 Feb 2013)
Language: English
ASIN: B00ANBR4TQ
ISBN-10: 148230757X
ISBN-13: 978-1482307573
Format: Kindle Edition
File Size: 537 KB
Print Length: 236 pages
Purchase links -
Amazon US // Amazon UK // Smashwords
The story takes the reader on a path of high emotion as Aurora uncovers Jake’s secret life and her own internal conflicts as she matures to self-awareness. Narrated by Aurora, the novel's tone vacillates from irreverent humour to solemnity as she relates her previous life with Jake and her present challenges.
The title refers to the solar maximum which became the backdrop for Aurora’s conception when her hippy parents went to Canada to observe the Aurora Borealis. In name and in spirit, Aurora is connected to the observable and unobservable energy around us. With the help of friends, family, and the ghost of Viola Parker (her home's original owner), Aurora accepts her fate and the secrets revealed about Jake's true character. She realizes that in this life she will finally break the cycle of pain caused by her love for this man, Jake Stein, through the centuries.
Excerpt:
Although I had started to speak, I immediately fell speechless creating another awkward moment as his dark flame-throwing eyes studied my face. He was smiling and I could see dimples forming on either side of his mouth. We just stood there, apart, in silence, yet there was an unmistakable sexual tension gluing us together like Kelly McGillis and Harrison Ford in Witness or Omar Shariff’s Dr. Yuri Zhivago and Julie Christie’s Lara Antipova. When he finally spoke, he asked me if I could recommend a good restaurant nearby elongating his vowels in a cute Southern accent that I would later learn was peculiar to Texans.
“If you like French cuisine, there is a wonderful place right around the corner, La Grenouille. I believe it’s quite popular with some of the executives here,” I said no longer mute, and handed him a business card that was kept in a stack on the desk.
“Would it be too much trouble, ma’am, for you to call and make a reservation?” he asked in a faux subservient manner. “I can’t understand French accents, especially over the phone.”
“Of course… sir,” I said returning his request with sugary sarcasm. I was, after all, nobody’s secretary and certainly not of the vintage that brought forth ma’am from the lips of a virile stranger. When I got the restaurant on the phone, I looked up and asked casually, “For what time, sir?”
And then he paused, looked at me with a gleam in his eye and said quite softly, “Well, let’s see. What time is good for you?”
Shocked but not rattled, I responded without any hesitation, “Now,” I said steadfastly meeting his gaze, “Now is perfect.”
And that’s how I met Jake Stein and sealed a future that fate ordained. Life-changing events seem to come when you’re ready even if you’re not aware of their import. Intuition can nudge feelings into your conscious space making a seemingly ordinary encounter, like a dropped book, one of great significance. Somehow, I understood that then and I understand that now. Meeting Jake Stein was my dance with destiny.
We instantly harmonized, interacting on two levels. The overt reality of the commonplace chitchat, sexually charged banter, and frothy intellect contrasted with a covert reality, a place where everything had deeper meaning, connection, and familiarity. In some cosmic way, our unspoken language was far more important than the spoken. Scientists might describe our attraction as the interaction of airborne pheromones—chemical messages emitted through our skin conveying our primal sexuality. Indeed, we seemed to be enchanted at the deepest levels of our instincts. Two realties happening at once—the outer and the inner—one a slick manifestation of the intelligentsia, the other a calming and gentle journey afloat a timeless river.
Throughout our initial encounter, playing faintly in my mind was the music from the sappy but tender, A Man and a Woman, my mother’s favorite movie when she was a teenager and strangely at odds with her penchant for a counter-culture way of life. She played the album all through my childhood—sealing my connection with whispery French sounds to all things romantic. And so that haunting melody was my personal soundtrack as we walked to La Grenouille.
My prudent study of this man, this Jake Stein, as we nonchalantly strolled along, was intentionally unintentional—I absorbed him as if he were liquid. My senses were on high alert, a spy observing my target in secret. Now, wafting about my face and filling the air around me was a hint of soap and expensive cologne. Now, smooth fingertips lightly touched and guided my arm bringing an explosion of sensuality but also feeling like a safe harbor. Now, upon my ear, the pleasant cadence and timbre of his voice sounded like a sweet symphony. My darting eyes savored his honey-tanned and smooth complexion and nose of quality, straight and sharp (but not too sharp). Luxurious thick, jet black, wavy hair fell casually over intense brown eyes. There was strength, a physical strength to his tall, elegant, Jeremy Irons frame. A noble grace to this huckster businessman. And his sensuous lips with just a hint of fullness, lips that I could almost taste—wanted to taste—formed words so provocatively. Later, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I would relive, with a slow and deliberate progression, these mesmerizing details that stirred me to my core.
My review
“ I
was quite attracted to the synopsis on the book and thought it would really
appeal to me. I liked the main character Aurora who tragically lost the love of
her life, Jake. After his passing she found out he had many secrets and there
were areas of his life she knew nothing about. The story then takes many
psychological twists and I lost connection with the characters. My problem with
the story was the fact it kept going backwards and forwards and just didn't flow properly. If I went a day without reading the book, I completely lost
track of where I was and had to go back a few pages and re-read it.”
“I
have to say I didn't feel the book went into enough detail in places, and where
I would have liked the author to expand on something, she just skimmed over it”
“ I appreciate
how much effort would have gone into writing the book and I know many people
have given it a 5* rating, but it just wasn't for me. If you are a lover of
paranormal romances, you may enjoy it more than I did.”
This book was given to me by the author in exchange for my honest review.
About the Author
Karen S. Bell continues to be in awe of the magical and wondrous phenomenon called life. As an observer and obvious participant in feminine values and approach to our human challenges, she brings this perspective to her work. Fascinated by the mysteries of the unseen forces that perhaps play a role in guiding our choices, she continues to search for answers in the mundane as well as in the cosmic forces that surround us. She is working on her third novel and lives in Ponte Vedra, Fl. with her husband and their two furry kids.
See Jera's Jamboree blog page for an interview with Karen
Click here
This book was introduced to me by Fiction Addiction Book Tours
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Desborough, Northamptonshire, England
Desborough, Northamptonshire, UK
Thursday, 25 July 2013
Book Blitz & Giveaway - Just Add Spice by Carol E Wyer
Title : - Just Add Spice
Author :- Carol E Wyer
Publisher :- Safkhet Publishing
Publication Date :- 25th July 2013
Format :- E-book
Purchase : -
Smashwords - Click here
Amazon UK - Click here
Amazon US - Click here
Amazon DE - Click here
Purchase : -
Smashwords - Click here
Amazon UK - Click here
Amazon US - Click here
Amazon DE - Click here
Dawn Ellis
needs to escape from her painfully dull existence. Her unemployed husband
spends all day complaining about life, moping around, or fixing lawnmowers on
her kitchen table.
The local
writing class proves to be an adequate distraction with its eccentric
collection of wannabe authors and, of course, the enigmatic Jason, who soon
shows a romantic interest in her.
Dawn pours
her inner frustrations into her first novel about the extraordinary exploits of
Cinnamon Knight, an avenging angel -- a woman who doesn't believe in following
the rules. Cinnamon is ruthless and wanton, inflicting suffering on any man who
warrants it.
Little does
Dawn realise that soon the line between reality and fiction will blur. Her own
life will be transformed, and those close to her will pay the price.
An Extract
Cinnamon Knight ground the stub of her Benson and Hedges’
cigarette into the pavement with the heel of her Prada leather motorcycle boot,
where it now joined a small pile of tab ends. Strategically placed in a shop
doorway, she watched the top left window of a block of flats opposite. She had
been there almost two hours. Rain beat steadily on the pavement, drumming
against the gutter with constant thuds, but this did not deter her. Her
patience was rewarded as the light blazing from the window was finally extinguished.
She sauntered across the road to the BMW parked in front of the block of flats
along the kerbside, sandwiched between a Peugeot 205 and a C Class Mercedes.
Dressed completely in black, face partially obscured by her
North Face hooded jacket; she was almost invisible next to the dark car. It
took only a minute to fiddle with the lock, open the door, and slide into the
car. She lowered herself down in the driver’s seat, casting a cursory glance
out of the window. The streets were empty. The weather was on her side and no
one was braving the downpour, not even the old man at the end of the road who
rarely missed taking his dog out for an evening stroll.
She leant forward and pulled off the cover below the steering
wheel with one deft movement. Extracting the screwdriver from a neat case, she
stabbed it into the ignition lock. A quick fiddle, one sharp twist, and the car
burst into life; the persistent thudding of the rain against the pavement hid
the initial coughing of the engine. She pulled away from the kerb swiftly and
headed up the road at speed.
Pushing the hood away from her head, she checked her face in the
rear-view mirror. That’ll teach him to mess about with women, she thought. No
one, but no one, messes about with Cinnamon—the rat!
You can view the you tube trailer for this novel here ....
Author Guest Blog Post
Spicing up your imagination by Carol E Wyer
As a
writer, I always become fully immersed in my book when I am planning it out. I
try very hard to make my characters as real as possible and become them, as
much as is possible. In fact, it can become an obsession with me.
Some
time ago I wrote a piece about ‘method writing’. Here is the abridged version:
“I
don’t know about other writers but I seem to have become a bit of a ‘method
author’. Like an actor who develops any of a family of techniques to create in
themselves the thoughts and emotions of their characters, so as to develop
lifelike performances, I too have been slipping into the minds and the role of
my main characters.
That’s
been fine for two years. My last two novels have been about a woman facing
fifty who wants some excitement in her life. I can easily become that woman. I
am qualified in more ways than one to be Amanda Wilson. She is a lonely woman
who blogs almost daily and whose social life is all on-line – check. She has a
grumpy husband who is obsessed with share prices and ignores her most of the
time– check. She is struggling with a body that insists on ageing faster than
her outlook and brain – check. She has an irritating son who refuses to leave
the nest and causes endless work – okay, uncheck. Mine flew from the nest a
couple of years ago. Actually, it was more like hurled from the nest. Still
that’s another story.
It was
easy to become Amanda and the more I gave her a back story or ‘legend’ as those
people from ‘Spooks’ call it, the more she became alive or real. It went
further than my new ‘laugh at life’ attitude. I changed, physically and
mentally. I made bold changes to my appearance. I bought outrageous glasses to
wear. I had my hair dyed various colours. In brief I became more alive.
Amanda
was fun. Amanda was very funny. She had an almost child-like way of looking at
the world and never tiring of the joys it could bring. I loved creating her and
becoming her. I think, thanks to her I became even more appreciative of what
life has to offer us. My attitude towards life is more positive and I always
look on the bright side.
So, why
I am telling you all this? I thought I ought to warn you all now. Whilst
getting into character can result in very credible writing it can have a
definite downside. My next novel is about a psychotic woman who is prepared to
commit all sorts of crimes, even murder. If I find myself getting into
character again then no one will be safe so keep anything sharp away from me
for the next few months and don’t eat anything I prepare for you.”
Just
Add Spice indeed started life out as a light-hearted murder mystery but as I
planned it out in my mind and the more I researched various ways of committing
the perfect crime, I was increasingly drawn to the idea of what would happen if
I really got into character? During those early days, I was sitting in
McDonald’s deviously working out how I could murder my husband by feeding him a
Happy Meal, when I realised I shouldn’t write a conventional murder/mystery at
all. I should write about what happens to an author who gets too involved with
their characters. It had far more comedic appeal and so, Just Add Spice was born.
I
really enjoyed writing about Cinnamon. She is outrageous and it allowed me to
free my mind completely. It’s very refreshing being able to work out how to
torture people and murder them humorously.
However,
I got obsessed as I always do. I was on holiday and met a female doctor at a
drinks party laid on by the management. At that time I was trying to work out
the most credible way of disposing of a husband. After introductions, I bluntly
asked her: “This may seem a bit mad, but if I grind up glass finely and put it
in my husband’s food would I be able to kill him without it being detected in
his body?”
The
woman looked at me in astonishment, gulped, put on her professional head and
explained that glass wouldn’t work. It would take too long to murder someone. I
thanked her, took my glass of wine over to join Hubby who chatting to some
other guests. I turned around to smile at her but she was busy shaking her head
in bewilderment and checking her vol au vents to make sure I hadn’t dropped
poison in them. I don’t know why, but she avoided me after that. Every time she
saw me headed her way she dived off in the opposite direction!
Did
Cinnamon Knight take me over? Well, let’s just say that no one has seen my
husband in a month and we had a new patio laid last week.
About the Author:
After completing a degree in French and English, Carol E Wyer became a language teacher. She actually began her working life abroad, in Casablanca, Morocco, where she taught English as a Foreign Language in an American Language school. It was soon discovered that she could speak French rather well, and she became a translator and teacher to large organisations and companies such as ‘Regie de Tabac’, Morocco’s largest cigarette company, and the Mediterranean Shipping Company.
After a few years she was ‘head-hunted ‘to run the English as a Foreign Language department of a private school in the UK. (Imagine Hogwarts without the wizardry.)
Carol taught English up to, and including ‘A’ Level, along with English as a Foreign Language. She also qualified to teach pupils with Dyslexia and became Head of English for Special Needs.
In 1988, Carol set up her own language company called Language 2000 Ltd and worked in schools and for companies. She taught a variety of languages, including basic Japanese, to all ages and translated documents.
A recurrence of spinal difficulties that began when she was a teenager, forced her to give up teaching and choose a new direction. In order to deal with her health problems, Carol attended a fitness course (Premier), took the qualifications to become a fitness instructor and became a personal trainer. That led her to become a trainer for others, particularly for older people who, like herself, had undergone major surgery.
Thanks to older age, Carol now no longer trains people, but she is currently writing a series of novels, articles and books which takes a humorous look at getting older. It is her hope that they will educate through laughter and help others appreciate life.
Carol has written several short stories over the years, including humorous books for children which served to teach them French. She was not able to fulfil her desire to be a full-time author until two years ago when her son flew from the nest, leaving his bedroom which Carol turned into her office.
Since then, she has written two novels, Mini Skirts and Laughter Linesand Surfing in Stilettos, both of which have enjoyed media attention and success, becoming best sellers and winning awards.
Melanie at http://mebookshelfandi.co.uk/
Josie at http://jaffareadstoo.blogspot.co.uk/
Sharon at http://jerasjamboree.com/
Sheryl at http://sheryls-ramblings.blogspot.co.uk/
Tutorials and Tools for Prospering in a Digital Age (Contributing Author)
Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology (Contributing Author)
Computer links
Carols website :- www.carolewyer.co.uk
Carols Blog :- www.facing50withhumour.com
Publishers website: -http://www.safkhetpublishing.com
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Desborough, Northamptonshire, England
Desborough, Northamptonshire, UK
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