Newsletter by K.D Bloodworth

Hi, or Hey Y’all, as we say in the South.

I write as K. D. Bloodworth, but I have been called by my middle name all my life, Dawn. I was born and raised mostly in Michigan by Southern-born parents. I have now lived in the South longer than I have in the Northern States. Mind you, I have lived in nine different States. By far, here in the North Georgia mountains where we have retired is my favorite. Mornings like these are not uncommon here in the Great Smokey Mountains.

A product of the Sixties, survived the Seventies, and now trying to survive retirement, I fill my days with fun things, photography, writing, playing with my dogs, watching birds, and spending time with my husband. Live is grand!

After years of prodding, I took my deceased mother’s advice and started writing after I turned fifty-something. I enjoy taking bits of accurate stories or experiences and weaving a story around them. Readers that know this are always asking if this or that happened to me, to which I never give an absolute answer. Only my very best friends know for sure, and I plan on keeping it that way. came to me when I started thinking about what could happen if a hook-up through an online dating sight went terribly wrong. It does happen! What if it happened in the wilds of Montana? Living in Montana at the time I had plenty of places to set the story.

Fans, readers, and friends kept asking me to write more about Dawn, the character not me. In the pre-dawn hours of half awake and half asleep (when most of my creative ideas come to me), the concept of Deadly Friend came to me. 

After writing Deadly Friend, I took time off from writing. I just wasn’t feeling it. It seemed everything I started writing was junk. Couldn’t get my brain kicked into gear. I took the advice of another author to write five hundred words a day. Didn’t matter on what, just write. Soon I was writing again. When the vision of the story I’m now working on came to me, five hundred words turned into several thousand words quickly. If only journal writing (which is also new to me) I try not to miss a day of putting words to paper or to the computer screen.

I’m excited that is out there and grabbing new readers every day and the sequel Deadly Friend released on September 10, 2018. More suspense for those thrill-seeking readers.

There are many ways people can keep up with me. I would enjoy hearing from you. Stop by and say Hey.

K D Bloodworth (@kdbloodworth) | Twitter


You may also take a look at my photography on

KD Bloodworth Books
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Newsletter from Meg Buchanan

Hi, I’m Meg. October is always an exciting month for me. It’s my birthday month, and my daughter’s and granddaughter’s. But this October is even more exciting. I have two books being released by Junction Publishing.


The first is ‘Love Me Goodbye’, the fifth book in the Prelude Series. This is Adam’s story. Stadium, the band is four days away from leaving for Australia. This is their big break. And Adam meets Geneviève, the girl of his dreams.


Adam has always been the quiet one in Stadium and overshadowed by the others, but it turns out when he falls in love it’s in a big way. It was fun writing his and Geneviève’s story.


The second book is ‘Angelfire’. I wrote it with Deryn Pittar, another Junction author. It’s crazy. When do you get to write about angel’s soldiers, an antique fire engine and water pistols?

I hope you enjoy it as much as Deryn and I enjoyed writing it.


For the last week I’ve been in Whitianga. I love it. The beaches, the shopping. This seaside town is a really beautiful place. It features in some of the Prelude books. In ‘Song for Jess’, Isaac and Jess take the ferry into Whitianga from Cooks Beach to buy the groceries. Here are photos of the beach, the ferry and the marina.

Meg Buchanan October Releases
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Newsletter by S E Amadis

From SE Amadis:

For me life has always been one big long struggle ever since I was little. Children with Attention Deficit Disorder and Aspergers — except when I was a child those diagnoses didn’t exist yet — aren’t exactly particularly well accepted by other kids at school.

In my time, when no one as yet knew about ADD and Aspergers, children like me were labelled the typical wishy-washy, flaky daydreamers who spent their whole lives living in Lalaland and walked into lamp posts because they had their heads up in the clouds (inventing stories about realities which were much more exciting than my own boring mundane one, of course!) and weren’t paying much attention to where their feet were going.

I wore the label of “BORING” from an early age because I talked like a little walking encyclopaedia, or like a miniature university professor — which on the other hand was hardly surprising if you took into account the fact that I was the daughter of two university professors lol! But who wants to play with a girl who speaks like Einstein?

To escape this stuffy epithet, I would invent stories about children who were much more exciting and fun to be with than me, living action-filled adventures and travelling the world. For me in those days, a trip to Central America would entail living in wooden houses perched above raging rivers on stilt-like columns and Egypt meant my heroines and heroes riding over a desert in a hot air balloon.

Growing up, the working world wasn’t any easier for me than the school ground. I have absolutely no short-term memory to speak of (a typical symptom of ADD) which makes holding on to a job extremely difficult, because when your bosses give you instructions, they expect you to remember them. And I would remember them…… if they would only give me the chance to write them down!

Because I’m from the Arctic country of Canada, I was always longing to escape away to someplace hot. I found South America more beguiling, but my tame parents harboured images of a land covered with savage jungles from sea to shining sea and wouldn’t allow me to travel to South America.

Europe, on the other hand, struck them as a nice, safe, civilized part of the world. The sort of place quiet people like themselves would love to visit. So I packed my bags and headed off to Spain, and I’m still here.

You would think that moving to Spain would be like moving to Paradise but, in truth, your problems will always follow you wherever you go. My short-term memory wasn’t any better in Spain than it was in Canada, and bosses are the same everywhere I think lol.

Another of my difficulties is that I can’t understand “signals”. Moving your eyes in certain directions, shaking your head about, leaning yourself to one side or another, none of that means anything to me and if that is your main means of communication with me, then we will have a lot of problems I fear. Because I can’t understand that type of language. And it appears to be the sort of language preferred by bosses and workmates alike.

I often joke to my friends that my life would be easy if only I could wear a sign on my forehead proclaiming: If you want me to do something, tell it to me in words!

Words are the only form of communication I am capable of understanding, it seems. For that reason, perhaps it’s not so surprising that I find it much more natural to communicate with people using words rather than pantomime. And perhaps that is why I write instead of becoming a pantomime artist lol.

For the past ten years I’ve been a single mother, and although I find it the most normal thing in the world, sometimes I do receive reminders from the people in this still traditional part of the world, where marriages still last forever and being a stay-at-home mother is still the norm, that my situation is unusual (and also not particularly enviable or desirable I’m afraid).

One of the greatest frustrations I’ve always had in life has always been my difficulty to hold on to a job. I’ve always been a lousy secretary because I have trouble remembering instructions, remembering which item was supposed to go first, second, third etc. in the boss’s agenda (from oral instructions which they would inevitably give me and which I would instantaneously forget, of course! It would never occur to them to actually write them down, which would have saved my day!).

And because I am just about the lousiest diplomat in the world. If the boss goes to play golf, and he tells me to tell all his clients that he’s in a meeting, I am unable to utter that white lie and I tell everyone he’s out playing golf. Not a great way to hang on to a job!

I’m a terrible babysitter too. Kids don’t particularly appreciate having a girl geek hanging around who sits about for two hours explaining a long summary of enthalpy and entropy, but can’t play a video game or even hide and seek.

Yeah, I am indeed a girl geek who never learnt how to play as a child.

That’s why I LOVE talking with my son. He’s a boy geek who RELISHES long conversations with me about enthalpy, entropy and organic chemistry hehe.

Yeah, I think perhaps I should have completed that science degree after all. (As it is I completed a degree in Anthropology, not quite the same thing but still……)

When I’m not hanging out with my kids chatting about molecules and how energy is never created nor destroyed, but can be transformed into matter, or writing stories about exciting people (much more exciting than me!) living exciting adventures, one of my favourite pastimes is taking photographs of creepy abandoned places.

This is the old abandoned provincial prison, the scene of many horrific deaths and violent events during the Spanish Civil War and the dictatorship that followed, and also the site where several scenes from my novel In the Prison of Our Grief is set.

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Newsletter from Susan Tarr

From Susan Tarr:

For those of you who are unsure exactly where New Zealand is, if you head straight down from say UK, aim for Australia and do a hard left, that should get you here. If you are coming from USA, just head down until the seas are forever in both directions and do a right, or left. Eventually you will make it. Drinks are on me! As you might imagine, I have a little head start on you. (Time zones and all)

I once sailed to Kenya, East Africa in a 28 foot yacht, so I know that navigation can be a little bit flexible, at least while you are on the high seas. I’m an adventuress. Not solo or anything like that. No, I need company so I can relive each and every little moment. And in 20 or 50yrs time I will still be reliving it.

So I am a fanciful dreamer. Yes, I always have been and always will be. And playing the piano and singing have been high on my list of fancies too.

Here is my favourite piano music. Frank Mills MUSIC BOX DANCER. Just skip the ads! Then sit back and close your eyes. Try to imagine it’s me seated at that piano. Stretch your imagination a little further and see my fingers tracing those keys. Yes, and at that speed too. Ah, memories are so good to have. Even if we are unsure where they come from or from how long ago. All I know is that once upon a lifetime, I played this song and even played it a wee bit like Frank Mills. Now go ahead and finish that wine!

(Or is that me in the tutu? I forget. More wine needed.) Frank Mills MUSIC BOX DANCER He wrote it for his daughter, not for us, and it shows. I played it for my daughter and for me.

And watch the following too. Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Love it. All the white sand and aqua waters lapping, ever lapping…


The other thing I do is write novels.

My latest is fresh out now ALMOST AN AUTHOR, and I am beyond ecstatic!

Although written as fiction, this is based on fact. Yes, there are nutters out there.


When a chance meeting with a local publisher outside a small bookshop results in all three of her manuscripts being signed, Ruby Wright thinks she has it made. Already she sees images of herself wearing dark glasses, being mobbed by fans clamouring for her latest blockbuster…

Little does Ruby know, but her ditsy publisher is a charlatan who has no more idea about publishing than Ruby does. Pretty soon Ruby is broke.
She has no IT experience so depends heavily on her nerdy flatmate, Hunter, whenever her computer fails her. He has enough of his own issues to deal with—he is studying for his final law exams. She bribes him with a dog she found on the side of the road, then Panforte, which chips his tooth, and a couple of Axolotls until he finally gives in and helps her. But Ruby’s life is filled with disaster…

What follows is excitement, disappointment, heartache, love and loss as we follow Ruby’s hilarious struggles to maintain her trust and focus in the ever-shifting publishing industry and in people in general.

Other Susan Tarr books
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