Tag Archives: Stevie Turner

The Donor by @StevieTurner6. Excerpt and a 5 Star #Review.

Stevie Turner The Donor book cover.Stevie Turner’s new women’s fiction novel ‘The Donor’ was recently published on December 14th, and has a sibling rivalry / rockstar theme. Stevie usually writes about peculiar subjects that are not often covered by mainstream authors, and adds in a touch of humour here and there.  To find out more about Stevie, please visit her website and check out her ‘About Me’ page by clicking on the link below:

http://www.stevie-turner-author.co.uk/about-me

Synopsis of The Donor:

When you know you have met the love of your life, the last thing you expect is for your sister to lure him away.  Clare Ronson is faced with this scenario when her sister Isabel marries singer and guitarist Ross Tyler.  To compound Clare’s jealousy and bitterness, Ross hits the big time and becomes a wealthy tax exile, relocating to France with his family.  Clare cannot bring herself to speak to Isabel or Ross for the next 30 years. However, when tragedy occurs in 2002 causing Ross to arrive back in England at Clare’s doorstep, Clare must try to put the past behind her for her sister’s sake.

http://bookShow.me/B016MJ9W0Q

Goodreads review by LaDonna

LaDonna rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: arr, blog, backstage-books, rockstar-romance

The author provided me an ARC of this book for a honest review and to see if I felt it fit the criteria for “rockstar romance” for a blog I run dedicated to that genre. I felt it did, though it isn’t your typical rockstar romance. This book will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, and admittedly most of those emotions will be of the darker kind.

Once upon a time, Clare is very close to her older sister Izzy, and adores/idolized her in that way that only little sisters can. As a very naïve youThe author provided me an ARC of this book for a honest review and to see if I felt it fit the criteria for “rockstar romance” for a blog I run dedicated to that genre. I felt it did, though it isn’t your typical rockstar romance. This book will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, and admittedly most of those emotions will be of the darker kind.

Once upon a time, Clare is very close to her older sister Izzy, and adores/idolized her in that way that only little sisters can. As a very naïve young woman in 1970, Clare goes to a big rock festival. This American reader could really only tie it to the endless stories of Woodstock I have heard, being just slightly younger than that generation, but I realize festivals of the like were going on across the pond as well. Anyway, that is the picture I have in my mind of the festival she attended, and at the end of several days, Clare has lost her friends and is dirty, exhausted, hungry and broke. An Adonis of a man steps in and offers her an apple, and companionship back home. He is quite fond of the waif, and calls upon her to date whilst he is determined to make it in his band. He puts up with the obvious dislike of her father, and her virginal antics. She has quickly fallen in love with him, and he is quite smitten with her as well, until one night her sister decides to join them for one of his gigs.

To Ross’ credit, he never had any intention of hurting Clare, but when he met Izzy, the stars aligned and he knew he had met his soulmate. Likewise, Izzy had never meant to upset her sister, but who can deny true love. No one expected Clare to be as hurt as she was, or to hold a grudge for so long.

Life goes on as it is apt to do; tragedies, joys, and all the other little moments that make up a life pass by. Ross’ band hits the big time very quickly, as well as Izzy’s first pregnancy and their marriage. Clare refuses to have anything to do with any of it, hanging on to hatred for her sister for having the life she was sure was destined to be hers. Clare does go on to marry a perfectly suitable man, has 2 children with him, and by all accounts a pretty nice life with him. She tells him early on that she has an irreparable rift with her sister, but never tells him the reason why.

Izzy has always tried to keep tabs on her sister but Clare simply has not allowed it, even turning away when they once ran into one another and Izzy tried to introduce her to her niece. 30 years go by, and tragedy forces Izzy to contact Clare. Clare’s husband reads the note and encourages Clare to acknowledge Izzy’s plea, but Clare tears up the letter and ignores it. Not until Ross arrives at her door does she consider listening and doing what her sister needs. Here is where the story really came together for me. The senselessness of hate and holding on to a grudge, not to mention basically a teenage dream, for all those years, to finally realized how quickly life passes us by and how many precious moments simply cannot ever be replaced. There are so many unexpected twists and turns after Ross arrives, and so much depth to the amount of lives touched by this rift that seems so silly in retrospect. This story touched me on so many levels, and I hope that you will give it a chance to soak into your heart and mind as well.

Very highly recommended for anyone that realizes life doesn’t always hand us a happily ever after, at least not in the way we think it should.

EXCERPT FROM ‘THE DONOR’ BY STEVIE TURNER

COPYRIGHT STEVIE TURNER 2015

CHAPTER 1 – 1970

CLARE

            Life as I know it is definitely starting to be a bit of a drag, due to the fact that I’ve been awake now for 3 days and nights on Desolation Hill.  I am finished, kaput. Thank God it’s the last day, that’s all I can say.

            I yawn for the umpteenth time and watch in a kind of stupor as the fences are torn down. Ruth jumps up excitedly and decides that she wants to try and get nearer the stage.  I watch her treading unconcerned over zombie-like bodies lying comatose and frying in the heat of the late August afternoon, and try to summon up enough strength to follow her.  But by then, hungrier and more tired than I have ever been, I am faced with the certainty that all I really want to do is to go home. Bands have started to merge one into the other, but I know I’ll have to face a ribbing from Ruth if I set off without first having tried to get nearer the stage if only to feast one weary eye on the hunk of masculinity that is Paul Rogers while there is still some good daylight left.

            I force my body to move, performing a quick recce around what has transformed in three days from arable farmland into a nuclear fallout zone contained in some kind of human landfill site. I cannot see Ruth, but I stumble on regardless. Somewhere out there my friend has become lost in a sea of 500,000 faces; just another flower-bedecked hippie indistinguishable from the masses.

            Far away on the horizon I can see a speck holding a microphone stand up above his head; Paul Rogers is holding the crowd in the palm of his hand, and I am missing it.  Behind him on the low stage, long hair flying in the sultry air, Paul Kossoff, six string shredder extraordinaire, is ripping into the solo for ‘All Right Now.’

            I cannot make my legs walk another step.  I yawn.  Infuriatingly I still seem to be on Desolation Hill as far as I can make out. Sighing with fatigue, I slump down on the grass where I stand, close my eyes, and listen to the hubbub around me.  My long hair feels like a heavy blanket on my back; I desperately want something to eat, I need a bath, and I ache for my mum to be fussing around me like she does when I am sick.

             “Hey babe, have some of this.”

          I am startled by a voice very close to my ear. I open my eyes again and look to my left to see what only can be described as a bronzed, blond Adonis, with long fair curls stretching down over his shoulders.  He is stripped to the waist apart from a small rucksack on his back, and wears frayed pale-blue Levi shorts and a pair of well-worn ‘Jesus creeper’ sandals.  He squats down beside me and holds out a lighted spliff.

            “It’ll take away the pain.”

            I consider myself to be in extremis, soon to be engulfed in the Grim Reaper’s arms.  There is no way out except death.  I take a huge drag and retch as the sweet fumes of cannabis grab the back of my throat.

            “Thanks.” I cough. “I think.”

            “Woh!” Adonis laughs into the sun. “Easy!  You’re not used to it, I can tell.”

            “Is it that obvious?”  I want my head to stop spinning. “I’ve come to the end of my rope. A spliff won’t do any harm now.”  I take another drag.

            “I think I’ll take it back actually.”  Adonis prises the joint from my fingers. “Are you hungry?”

            “Starving.”  I nod, with eyes trying to close. “All I’ve got left is my hovercraft ticket back to Southsea.”

          “And you can’t eat that.”  Adonis attacks the spliff with expertise, puffing out a cloud of aromatic smoke. “I’ll see what I’ve got left in my rucksack.”

            Keeping the spliff between the index and middle finger of his left hand, with one poetic swoop of his right shoulder he dislodges the rucksack’s straps, opens it up and looks inside, bringing out a slightly dented but still crisp-looking Golden Delicious apple and handing it to me.

               “My mum’s always on at me to eat more roughage.”

              Laughing, I feast my eyes on the apple, which in my famished state seems to have taken on the proportions of a gargantuan banquet.

             “If you’re sure.”  I cannot help but take it. “I’ve eaten nothing since yesterday.  Somebody stole what was left of my food. It’s too far to walk to try and buy some, and anyway, I’ve no money left.”

              “It’s every man for himself, here.”  Adonis nods. “What’s your name?”

            “Clare.”  I bite into pure nectar. “Clare Ronson.  How about you?”

          “Hi Clare, I’m Ross Tyler.”  Adonis holds out his hand. “I hitchhiked from Ryde on Friday with a mate from college, who was last seen yesterday trying to find somewhere private to take a crap.”

             Juice from the apple runs down my chin and I wipe it away with my left hand, shake Ross’s hand with the other, and smile up at him.

              “You’re a lifesaver, Ross. I came here with a friend as well, but maybe she met up with your mate.  I haven’t seen her for a few hours now.”

             “Looks like it’s us two against the world then.”  Ross slings the rucksack back over his shoulder. “I’m on my way up the hill; going to hitchhike back to Ryde and get a chance on the hovercraft before this lot set off. Coming?”

             I’ve had enough. My knight in Jesus creepers has materialised and is standing right in front of me. Not one for wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, and fortified by the sweet fruit, I nod and get to my feet.

             “Yes; I want to go home.”

           Paul Rogers is giving it all he’s got.  Taking one last look at the stage and wondering if we would ever see the like of it again, I grab my saviour’s outstretched hand and we begin to thread our way between the bodies and mounds of detritus, back up Desolation Hill and over Afton Down, eventually descending onto the Military Road.  Crowds of young people have the same idea, and we all saunter along amiably in the late afternoon heat, in no rush to get off the Island, and unaware that we are part of history in the making.  In front of us are two girls holding hands; one is naked except for a pair of pink knickers, and the other is bare from the waist down.

            “Looks like those two have fared worse than you.”  Ross smirks.

        I am stoned on cannabis fumes, lack of sleep, hunger, and a definite animal attraction for my new-found friend.  It matters to me not one jot that female flesh usually kept under wraps is now exposed to the stares of all and sundry.  Presently the girls slope off and join many other festival-goers, washing off the dirt from Desolation Hill in the choppy waters of Freshwater Bay. I smile at Ross as we trudge along Military Road, copying him and raising my thumb some time later as crowds begin to thin out and the odd car can be seen driving past us on the way to maybe Brook Green or further on into Niton or Newport.

         “Who in their right mind is going to give us a lift?”  I panic while wondering just how much further I can walk. “Look at the state of us. How many miles is it to Ryde from here? Can’t we wait for a bus?”

         “About twenty.”  Comes the cheerful reply. “I’m skint, the same as you.  It’s hitching or Shanks’s pony.”

         My affable, blond Adonis is prepared to traipse into the night to reach his destination.  It’s all I can do to keep up with his long, loping strides. The buzz from the apple wears off around Compton Bay, and I want to cry.

         “Cheer up, babe.”

        Ross winks and puts his arm around me.  The effect is galvanising and instantly spurs me on.  I gaze up into his pale blue eyes, and his nearness causes a pleasant throbbing sensation in my groin. I have never seen such beauty in a man before.  I am certain I haven’t seen him at Uni.

        “Which University are you at?”  I find myself looking down in the direction of his groin as we walk.

      “Not Uni; Portsmouth Art College.”  Ross holds his fist up and jerks his thumb at passing cars. “How about you?”

        “The Uni; not far from there though.  Reading English; I want to be a teacher.  Do you think you’ll be a famous painter then?”

         “Don’t know.”  Ross shrugs and fondles the hair at the back of my neck. “But I’m having a ball finding out.”

***       

        It’s not until we walk past Compton Bay and head towards Brook Green that a van stops next to us.  Ross is still pointing his thumb in the vague direction of Newport, but I have long ago given up, and am just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I hear Ross speak to the driver who is on his way to Bembridge, and to my great delight he beckons us into the cab and agrees to drop us off along the seafront at Ryde.  The van has three seats at the front.  I let Ross go in first, who chats amiably to the driver most of the way I think.  Me, I put my head on Ross’s shoulder and am asleep before the van has even pulled away.

Stevie Turner The Donor book cover.


© Copyright-All rights reserved by litworldinterviews.com 2015

Stevie Turner interviews @RonovanWrites

I am pleased to feature an interview with Ronovan Writes, who has kindly invited me here to submit articles for LitWorldInterviews.  I am a self-published author, who enjoys interviewing other authors and people connected with writing.

Ronovan

As well as being an author with a debut novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling, coming out in February 2016, Ronovan also provides invaluable resources for Indie authors here on  LitWorldInterviews.com

I also admire Ronovan because, like me,  he is trying to turn a health issue into something positive.

1.  You tell me that you were born of migrant fruit pickers.  How old were you before your parents settled in one place?  Where do you call home now?

As best as I can tell, it was about the time of Kindergarten. I recall taking naps on those floor nap mats each day and swinging in swings to dangerous heights, at least they were high in my mind. Today people would see that as neglect by playground attendants. I somehow survived until recent years somewhat unscathed.

Now I live in a University town near Atlanta, GA.

2.  What did you learn from such a diverse group of students at the ‘Alternative School’ when you taught them History?

All people are the same if given a chance. A number of students were there because the court system forced them to be there. Some teachers treated them as though they couldn’t be trusted. I told the entire class from the beginning that I didn’t care what they did before coming in the door, as long as they treated me good, I didn’t have a problem with them. It worked out fine. I never had a problem with any of them.

3.  You say you were too honest to sell life insurance.  What was so bad about the job that you stopped doing it?

There were a number of reasons. Even though I was a top seller I was having to work hard and doing it the honest way, which there is no problem with that. The problem came when my health started taking over. I didn’t know it at the time but I had for a number of years been showing signs of Fibromyalgia and multiple herniated discs throughout my spine, including my neck. The pain of driving hundreds of miles a day, during the worst economy we’ve had in decades, combined with seeing how so many previous agents had cheated some of these people, finally became too much.

4.  Do you still teach, or are you a full-time writer now?

I’m a full-time writer now. Two years ago I fell in my home from a migraine. I became dizzy and as I fell my head hit three to four times before I hit the floor. There have been problems from that since. I don’t look at it with regret, I am taking the time I have and probably shouldn’t have and turning it into something positive.

5.  You are fortunate in being able to write about any subject.  What is your debut novel about?  How long did it take you to write it?

Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling is a Historical Adventure based around 1706.  The main character is Gabriel Wallace, a Captain in the Royal Navy who is court-martialed on charges brought mostly out of scorn by the friends of a dead Admiral. Wallace discovers other goings on about the Admiral and his friends and sets out to correct the wrongs against himself and others by taking his previous ship and crew and becoming a pirate of sorts. I say of sorts because his actions are more a war against the ships belonging to a list of men.

Amber Wake

Wallace is a character that is very important in the future lives of two of the main characters in the Ivory Shepard Pirate Tales series by PS Bartlett.

The story is written more about the character of a person than so much about what people might think of as the chauvinistic swashbuckler adventure, sex romp. That’s not my style. The main character has some historical bases in real people, and actions you see are believable. And Wallace is not a woman chaser. He has a mission and he has the men who have volunteered to stick with him to make sure are taken care of.

I probably wrote the initial draft and then second draft in maybe six weeks or less. I have a lot of time and when I’m worked up about a project I tend to become a bit obsessed. Then PS Bartlett took over and put her touches to it, mostly in giving it the language fitting her series. Language such as pirate speak and the like, as well as certain verbiage I am prone not to use but may be likely in certain settings. Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling isn’t the usual pirate adventure with profanity flying left and right, though. The main characters are educated and accustomed to speaking in certain circles and use certain words when situations bring them forth. She also used her experience through the writing of several books to make certain things flow well. We then would go back and forth with the drafts from that point to catch what each other missed. It’s amazing what eyes miss in the middle of things.

Here’s a link to the first chapter of Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling on Ronovan’s new author site: http://ronovanhester.com/2015/12/28/my-debut-novel-amber-wakes-gabriel-falling-it-all-begins-here-chapter-one/

6.  Do you prefer to write novels, short stories, or blogs?

I prefer to write novels. Researching to develop a world and characters is something I enjoy a great deal. Writing short stories on various blogs helped me discover the voice and even certain genre I like or for which I have an affinity.

7.  What is the most difficult genre for you to write in?

I’m not a horror writer. I can do it, and have, but it’s not my thing. Nor is anything that involves the harming of women or children.

8.  Which genre do you prefer to read?  Who is your favourite author?

It’s difficult to narrow it down to one. I’ve found I don’t enjoy fantasy and science fiction as much as I once did. Contemporary Literature and also Historical Fiction based from the 1950s back to perhaps the late 1800s are things I like at the moment. I enjoy the style of Clive Cussler for his research and detail, John Gardner for his realism and historical writing in the Secret Generations and Herbie Kruger books, and recently a new author named Claire Fullerton has me hooked on Contemporary Literature with her Dancing to an Irish Reel.

9.  You founded Lit  World Interviews https://litworldinterviews.com/ to help promote authors and provide advice about writing and publishing etc.  Do you prefer to interview authors of your own choosing, or are you happy to interview any author who contacts the site?

There is a bit of selection process. For those who have something prepared I’m happy to publish it. For interviews I conduct myself I prefer to read the book of the author first and then conduct an interview, if I like the book. I don’t like every book I read and I don’t publish a review of those without permission of the author first. In fact, I include on the submission form a question about reviews that would be below a 3. I have no desire to hurt a career with my opinion. Opinions can be subject to so many influences. One may be having a bad week and the book, normally a great read, ends up being a low score. If the review is good, then I normally suggest an interview.

10.  Have you ever sought out any alternative therapies for your fibromyalgia?

I haven’t sought any as of yet, although I do look at my nutrition to see what different foods do to the body. I was diagnosed with Fibro two years ago, so right now my doctor is attempting to get things in hand so I can perhaps do other things that will help.

11.  How did you ‘lose part of your world in a mind-jarring way’ in 2013?

In the aforementioned fall in my home, I ended up with a Grade 3 Concussion. That’s the type of concussion you hear about quarterbacks in NFL Football in the USA suffering from, and soldiers who are too close to explosions. As a result of the concussion I ended up with retrograde amnesia. Pretty much any person I knew prior to the fall, other than my son, I lost memory of. I had to learn to write again; I would even switch hands in the middle of a sentence and write just as well with either. I was writing because I lost the ability to speak for over a month.

The amnesia is still there but I am able to find my way to anywhere I need to go, although I don’t drive any longer. But I’m better than a GPS if it’s someplace I’ve already been. I also have the learned, education things, other than math. My math skills all but disappeared.

12.  How do you cope with not being able to sleep properly?  Are you permanently tired?

Yes, I’m pretty much always tired. What I do is get myself involved in whatever I am doing and ignore the tired factor. That is unless it’s the Chronic Fatigue thing kicking in. But everything combined makes writing not bad, although the memory thing can be a problem at times. It’s a pain to write ten chapters and one morning wake up and not remember any of it. Then I have to read it all over again, and my notes, and try to pick up from there. Normally it’s if I sleep too long that I have the memory issue, too long meaning more than four hours at a time. And if it’s a deep sleep, even four hours could be too much.

13.  Like you, I also like to sit in the shade and listen to the birds.  We have a robin that comes into our garden every day and sits on the same branch.  Do you ever think about whether the souls of deceased loved ones can be reincarnated, possibly returning to us in animal or bird form?

No. I’m not a believer of reincarnation. I don’t make fun of others who do though. Everyone has a right to believe as they wish, as long as it doesn’t encroach on or harm others. When I sit and enjoy nature, I think of the beauty of it all and how so many people fly past and miss it. I try to teach my son to enjoy those one of a kind moments like a sunrise that has those pinks and orange colors that will never be like any other sunrise.

14.  You are a true Southern Gentleman.  Health willing, I would like to visit New Orleans in 2017 for the Mardi Gras.  Have you any advice for me if I do go there?

Go with someone, go everywhere with that someone, and don’t get into a state in which you lose your head about you. You’ll have a great time as long as you do the buddy system and stay to the main areas during the night events.

15.  You state that you love to learn about other places and their customs.  If money and time were no object, where in the world would you like to visit?

I’ve come to enjoy the idea of visiting the Orient lately. I have a book idea and it would be nice to go through all the countries, visit the ancient locations, experience the food, and hear how the people speak.

16.  How do you celebrate New Year’s Eve in the South?

There are the usual fireworks shows around, and staying up till midnight. There’s no alcohol in the house, so it’s sparkling grape juice at most. Sometimes with the way the weather is here, there might be a barbeque/cookout. As I’m writing this, it’s in the 70s, and it’s almost New Year’s Eve. There are also moments we are all wondering if the tornado will bypass us this time or go right through out town.

17.  What is your favourite piece of music?

Anything from Sgt. Pepper by the Beatles is a hit with me. I enjoy them so much I even taught a lesson about the Paul is Dead idea.

18.  What do you think the world will be like for future generations?

Things won’t change as much as people think. We have past theories of the future to look at and realize how slow things do change. It’s becoming scarier though. There is too much political correctness and not enough people doing things to fix the world right now for the world’s own good. And I believe the world is losing its sense of humor where a joke can’t be told without offending someone.

19.  Can you tap dance or do the cha-cha?

Nooooo. Well I don’t think so. I can get my groove on to amuse my son. Being a teen in the 80s you don’t have any shame when it comes to dancing, and you realize everything is dancing.

20.  Which three possessions would you rush to save in a fire?

Other than human lives: 1) My Laptop with all my work on it, 2) My Captain America #100, and 3) The Archaeological Study Bible my youth group gave me as a gift when I handed the reins over to the new Youth Pastor I helped select.

Thank you Ronovan, for agreeing to answer my 20 questions.  Below you can find links to Ronovan’s new author site and other social media.  If any authors or publishers reading this would also like to be interviewed, please contact me on my website http://www.stevie-turner-author.co.uk with some information about yourself, just as Ronovan did.

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Brand New Author Site: http://ronovanhester.com/
Blog: https://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RonovanWrites
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Ronovan-Writes-630347477034132/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/20596002-ronovan-hester
Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+RonovanWrites