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| Sue'Anne Dawson, Jane Marie and Kim Marcum |
Showing posts with label Jane Marie Malcolm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jane Marie Malcolm. Show all posts
December 6, 2015
New Friends
May 7, 2014
Ask Jane Marie- What's Up with the Name?
My sister, Nancy Kamp, gave me that gracious description, a thing toward which everyone should strive, but I am certainly not to that point. Bottom line, no matter what you call me, I hope you will join our Victorian world where love, lace and teddy bears reign, here on this blog.
Recipe reprinted from www.GraciousJaneMarie.com
April 22, 2014
Posters and More Posters
Over time, my Amelia Island's Goodbye Lie series has had many posters. Here are some of them plus a couple miscellaneous ones from www.GraciousJaneMarie:
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| www.MarthaBear.com - silly short stories for the whole family |
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Posters for the next novel in the series, Amelia Island's Mark of a Man, are in progress. Stay tuned...
Novels, Kindle and Nook available for order at all book sources, www.Amazon and www.GraciousJaneMarie.com.
January 5, 2014
Mark of a Man Excerpt- Crusty Anchor
Making the Mark:
Readers often ask me where I get ideas for my novels. Here is one quick explanation with a short excerpt from my upcoming Amelia Island's Mark of a Man, part of Amelia Island's Goodbye Lie Trilogy. Set in 1898, the action happens from Florida up to Pennsylvania, down to Cuba and back to Florida. This particular scene is set in the Crusty Anchor Pub. The fictional pub is named for my granddaughter's stuffed cat. When she was very little, she used to chew on the tail, it would dry, and get icky between washings. Hence, we nicknamed the animal, CRUSTY Kitty. The ANCHOR is to honor my brother, a Navy man, and there you have it- Crusty Anchor.
Mark of a Man excerpt:
Aunt Jency was a youthful thing and delicate, barely older than Pat, himself. In the short while he'd known her, he decided he liked her. She seemed a fine and caring person, even if she wasn't much of cook. From the looks of her husband's belly, he was finding sustenance somewhere.
They caught sight of the rough, painted sign spelling out Crusty Anchor Pub in faded red letters. Pat envisioned it rowdy with mariners and didn't want to see Jency put in an uncomfortable position. To his pleasant surprise, the small place was mostly crowded with families. The chatter was high and the aroma wonderful.
They sat at a table in the center of the room with thirty or so customers enjoying their meals. Twenty feet from the window, they crooked their necks to get a glimpse of the darkening sky and deep gray of Presque Isle Bay.
"You know, y'all," Pat commented, "the scene outside reminds me of Florida, with the boats, I mean."
"You'll be having your fill of water by the time your hitch is up in the Navy."
"You're right about that, Uncle John," Pat agreed, but silently hoped he was wrong, since water was what floated his family's business.
"Hear that accent, y'all?" mimicked a booming male voice. "Sounds like we got us a dirty Grayback clear up here in Erie."
Tightly and quickly, Pat blinked, hoping that menacing voice behind him spouted only an empty challenge. Hags-teeth! Brawling got him where he was today. In the second before he turned to face his aggressor, he tossed a glance at Uncle John who was polishing his utensils on the sleeve of his plaid shirt and seemingly paying no mind. Jency, bending over her child, shielded the baby with her body. Pat stood, spun on his boot, and stepped away from the table, in case there was trouble. He tensed, saying, "The war's long past, man. If you still want to do this, I'll give you one free swing. After that--"...
Perpetua stirred, fussed, and Jency pulled forth a tea towel wrapped baby bottle. "Good, it's still warm."
"It had best be," the child's father said. "We don't want our little girl to be unhappy."
"My daddy always says girls are made for spoilin', Uncle John. I see you both have the same philosophy."
Their attention turned from one another and back to the baby when she let out a huge wail as the bottle slipped from her mother's hand and pulled from Perpetua's mouth to crash to the floor. Spikes of glass glistened in the light of the oil lamps on the surrounding square tables.
"Oh dear," Jency murmured, the worry heavy in her tone. "Perpetua may still be hungry. I never imagined this happening. I haven't another bottle with me." She lifted the baby over her shoulder and patted the child's back. A soft burp erupted and Perpetua calmed down.
"Shall we go before the poor thing realizes she hasn't had a full meal?" Uncle John ordered in the form of a question.
The buggy ride jostled Perpetua back to sleep. Pat talked softly so as not to wake her. "Thank you both for a wonderful taste of home." The moment he'd said it, he realized the thoughtlessness of his remark. He would never intentionally hurt Jency's feelings about her cooking. "I mean--being with you has reminded me of my family in Fernandina. I miss them a great deal."
Riding up to their front door, Pat dismounted and helped Jency and the baby down from the buggy. He didn’t go inside. Instead, he shook his uncle's hand and kissed the back of his aunt's on their front stoop.
"Well, son, we'll write to your father and tell him what a fine man he has in you. Be sure and come visit us again when you get leave. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't, sir." On his horse, "Thanks again, Uncle."
"Goodbye, Pat." A tender smile lit Jency's face. Perpetua whimpered. "I must see to my little one."
Riding away, Pat aimed his ear in the direction of Uncle John's house. Curious, he thought, how similar a child's cry was to that of a woman's.
Readers often ask me where I get ideas for my novels. Here is one quick explanation with a short excerpt from my upcoming Amelia Island's Mark of a Man, part of Amelia Island's Goodbye Lie Trilogy. Set in 1898, the action happens from Florida up to Pennsylvania, down to Cuba and back to Florida. This particular scene is set in the Crusty Anchor Pub. The fictional pub is named for my granddaughter's stuffed cat. When she was very little, she used to chew on the tail, it would dry, and get icky between washings. Hence, we nicknamed the animal, CRUSTY Kitty. The ANCHOR is to honor my brother, a Navy man, and there you have it- Crusty Anchor.
Mark of a Man excerpt:
Aunt Jency was a youthful thing and delicate, barely older than Pat, himself. In the short while he'd known her, he decided he liked her. She seemed a fine and caring person, even if she wasn't much of cook. From the looks of her husband's belly, he was finding sustenance somewhere.
They caught sight of the rough, painted sign spelling out Crusty Anchor Pub in faded red letters. Pat envisioned it rowdy with mariners and didn't want to see Jency put in an uncomfortable position. To his pleasant surprise, the small place was mostly crowded with families. The chatter was high and the aroma wonderful.
They sat at a table in the center of the room with thirty or so customers enjoying their meals. Twenty feet from the window, they crooked their necks to get a glimpse of the darkening sky and deep gray of Presque Isle Bay.
"You know, y'all," Pat commented, "the scene outside reminds me of Florida, with the boats, I mean."
"You'll be having your fill of water by the time your hitch is up in the Navy."
"You're right about that, Uncle John," Pat agreed, but silently hoped he was wrong, since water was what floated his family's business.
"Hear that accent, y'all?" mimicked a booming male voice. "Sounds like we got us a dirty Grayback clear up here in Erie."
Tightly and quickly, Pat blinked, hoping that menacing voice behind him spouted only an empty challenge. Hags-teeth! Brawling got him where he was today. In the second before he turned to face his aggressor, he tossed a glance at Uncle John who was polishing his utensils on the sleeve of his plaid shirt and seemingly paying no mind. Jency, bending over her child, shielded the baby with her body. Pat stood, spun on his boot, and stepped away from the table, in case there was trouble. He tensed, saying, "The war's long past, man. If you still want to do this, I'll give you one free swing. After that--"...
Perpetua stirred, fussed, and Jency pulled forth a tea towel wrapped baby bottle. "Good, it's still warm."
"It had best be," the child's father said. "We don't want our little girl to be unhappy."
"My daddy always says girls are made for spoilin', Uncle John. I see you both have the same philosophy."
Their attention turned from one another and back to the baby when she let out a huge wail as the bottle slipped from her mother's hand and pulled from Perpetua's mouth to crash to the floor. Spikes of glass glistened in the light of the oil lamps on the surrounding square tables.
"Oh dear," Jency murmured, the worry heavy in her tone. "Perpetua may still be hungry. I never imagined this happening. I haven't another bottle with me." She lifted the baby over her shoulder and patted the child's back. A soft burp erupted and Perpetua calmed down.
"Shall we go before the poor thing realizes she hasn't had a full meal?" Uncle John ordered in the form of a question.
The buggy ride jostled Perpetua back to sleep. Pat talked softly so as not to wake her. "Thank you both for a wonderful taste of home." The moment he'd said it, he realized the thoughtlessness of his remark. He would never intentionally hurt Jency's feelings about her cooking. "I mean--being with you has reminded me of my family in Fernandina. I miss them a great deal."
Riding up to their front door, Pat dismounted and helped Jency and the baby down from the buggy. He didn’t go inside. Instead, he shook his uncle's hand and kissed the back of his aunt's on their front stoop.
"Well, son, we'll write to your father and tell him what a fine man he has in you. Be sure and come visit us again when you get leave. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't, sir." On his horse, "Thanks again, Uncle."
"Goodbye, Pat." A tender smile lit Jency's face. Perpetua whimpered. "I must see to my little one."
Riding away, Pat aimed his ear in the direction of Uncle John's house. Curious, he thought, how similar a child's cry was to that of a woman's.
September 19, 2013
This Time, I'm Innocent
In the interest of truth and self-worth, this is a disclaimer from Gracious Jane Marie aka Jane Marie Malcolm aka ME. I was looking at Nook's sample pages of my Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow. To my horror, at the end of the first chapter, I discovered they, the Nook people, made a typo. They split the word anything, not at any-thing but an-ything! While they say the average book has at least nine typos in it, I can boldly tell you I am more than capable of making my quota of mistakes without anyone's help. I hope this does not deter readers from meeting my fictional Dunnigan family and joining their Amelia Island, Florida adventures and romance in the 1880s. I just want folks to understand that I KNOW an-ything is incorrect. I feel better now. PS I checked Kindle's sample pages and we're good. Whew! I'll check the paperback next and then The Goodbye Lie...
Nook's Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/amelia-islands-velvet-undertow-jane-marie-malcolm/1019217795?ean=9781449029203
Kindle's Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow - http://www.amazon.com/Amelia-Islands-VELVET-UNDERTOW-ebook/dp/B0069SB4XY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376857701&sr=8-1&keywords=amelia+island%27s+velvet+undertow#_
Goodbye Lie paperback - http://www.amazon.com/The-Goodbye-Jane-Marie-Malcolm/dp/0974918229/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1379648228&sr=8-3&keywords=goodbye+lie
Nook's Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/amelia-islands-velvet-undertow-jane-marie-malcolm/1019217795?ean=9781449029203
Kindle's Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow - http://www.amazon.com/Amelia-Islands-VELVET-UNDERTOW-ebook/dp/B0069SB4XY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1376857701&sr=8-1&keywords=amelia+island%27s+velvet+undertow#_
Goodbye Lie paperback - http://www.amazon.com/The-Goodbye-Jane-Marie-Malcolm/dp/0974918229/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1379648228&sr=8-3&keywords=goodbye+lie
December 8, 2012
Doy to the World!
Here I go again. I misspoke and look what popped out. Doy to the World! I couldn't ignore the unintentional funny, now could I? So, for your viewing and buying pleasure, I have created a new online shop called...get ready...here it is: GOOFY GRAVY, meaning goofy as in goofy and gravy as in extra good.
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| Click below for t-shirt details http://www.cafepress.com/goofygravy.746748662 |
Click here, http://www.cafepress.com/goofygravy?nocache=yes, for t-shirts and lots more stuff to give and/or get for yourself because if you are on this blog, you have arrived in my wacky world of wonderment!
Hugs and Blisses!
Jane Marie
PS. There are the things that clog my mind. WAIT.
That's another t-shirt. Stay tuned!!!!
PS. There are the things that clog my mind. WAIT.
That's another t-shirt. Stay tuned!!!!
May 18, 2010
The Goodbye Lie - Amelia Island THEN ...
The Goodbye Lie
a novel of suspense, romance & the unexpected
Meet the Dunnigan Family plus read a Synopsis
The Dunnigans:
The Dunnigans:
As you enter the lovely Victorian seaside town of Fernandina on the island called Amelia in the year 1882, you will likely run into one of the Dunnigan clan and/or their circle. Patriarch and architect Michael might be deliberating in his home office at Dunnigan Manor over designs before presenting them to a wealthy client. His wife, Miss Ella, may well be in her kitchen, adding a bit more paprika to her Angel Eggs recipe http://www.greenlightwrite.com/deviledeggs.htm. It must be perfect you know, for she does, albeit graciously, boast a fair number of blue ribbons for her culinary efforts. 18-years-old Breelan often rides Noir to an isolated spot on Amelia Beach where she writes short stories in secret hoping to mustering courage enough to show them to her newspaper editor to critique. Nora, Breelan's cousin and best friend, is frantic, yet again, as she searches for Breelan. Why? Because Nora simply must share that the son of the traveling notions merchant winked at her! Carolena Dunnigan, the oldest Dunnigan sibling, is probably plotting how to get even with Breelan for using her jade earbobs without asking. Young Jack Patrick and his little sister, Marie, are likely chasing the chickens while Blackie-White-Spots is barking non-stop at the scene. His tail wagging with the speed of a hummingbird's wing, he catches his playful nemesis, Monstie, the marmalade kitty, flash by on his way to a hidey-hole under the porch. Grammy and adopted second grandmother, Peeper, are pot walloping the kettles to a bright fare-thee-well until nasty Aunt Noreen comes bursting through the slamming screen door, hollering. What is the crisis this time? Peeper's elixir-fixer starch potion left purple spots all over the blue nightshirt she got her husband his last birthday. Peeper is sure to giggle that sarcastic giggle of hers as she reminds Noreen, if she had any sense in that peahead of hers, she should have tested the elixir on the inside hem. Town nosey-poke, Mrs. Ickles, is on her way to Dunnigan Manor, intent on tattling on Jack Patrick for his part in mining the sparkling granite stones from the front columns of the vacant house o South 3rd Street. It's all just another day of high collars, parasols, and pocket watches in the lively little town called Fernandina on the pretty little island called Amelia until ...
Synopsis:
Carefree Florida miss Breelan Dunnigan is literally swept away by a tornado and a stranger, who steps into her home and into her soul. A novice reporter for the Florida Mirror, she makes a short escape to New York City seeking excitement. Flights of foolishness turn her life wrong-side-out upon returning to Amelia Island. Trouble from the North follows her home where strong family bonds and honor are pitted against ingenuous liaisons, treachery, deceit and something much much worse. Clever twists of plot, rich characters, late Victorian conventions and subtle humor flavor up the mix of stunning surprises as it was on Amelia then …
From Amelia Beach to Victorian Centre Street, to the Amelia River marina, Florida House - a tourist hotel, Fort Clinch, St. Michael’s Catholic Church, St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Old Fernandina and Clark Creek, today called Old Town and Egan’s Creek respectively, the reader is transported back 128 years. We welcome you to the saga that is The Goodbye Lie series, where Little House on the Praire meets Gone With The Wind!
For more information about The Goodbye Lie series, articles, recipes, jewelry, t-shirts and Goodbye Lie Keepsake Collection, please visit our 800+ page website, www.GraciousJaneMarie.com.
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