Friday, December 11, 2015

Heritage Time Travel Romance Series

Torie Mills will move to small town Fremont Iowa to find her roots and start a new life. What she will find, will be family, love and an incredible time travel adventure that may ultimately cost her everything if she can't find a way to control it and her destiny.

Start the journey for FREE for you Kindle with Out of the Past, a stand alone novel but part one of the trilogy. Then continue with Into the Future and Forevermore.


Out of the Past http://amzn.com/B009ZZDVJS FREE
Into the Future http://amzn.com/B00DID4GX8
Forevermore http://amzn.com/B00IRO1A1E

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Forevermore by Dana Roquet

A favorite little sweet snippet of book three of the time travel adventure of Dave and Torie. Forevermore http://amzn.com/B00IRO1A1E

 

     After I left the Fremont city limits and was on the empty twelve mile stretch of highway on the way to Oskie, I began to relax until my phone rang. I looked at the screen to see Dave’s smiling face displayed and turned down the radio. I was all set to go with an elaborate lie about how I was shopping alone at a mall in Des Moines. That is, until Dave told me to look in the rear view mirror and when I did, he waved at me. Thank God I hadn’t gotten the lie out of my mouth.
      Instead of being settled in to work on my time travel studies at some motel by dark, I was leading the way, as Dave and I made our way to the Oskaloosa Family Restaurant to share dinner.
     “So why are you in town?” he asked as he closed his truck door and met me at mine. He bent to give me a quick smooch before taking my hand.
     “I needed a few files from the house and I grabbed a few more toys for Rose Lynn,” I answered as he led me through the parking lot and I paused while I let him open the door for me.
      “Hmm,” he responded, giving me a suspicious look as I entered before him.
      The lobby was empty but for the hostess who stood behind a podium. Dave held up two fingers to her and she hurried off to ready our table.
     “Don’t start with twenty questions, please?” I pouted, running my hand over the center of his chest, smoothing my hand along the buttons of his shirt. “Why were you heading in this direction and all spiffed up?” I asked, shifting the focus off of me and teased. “You got a hot date?”
      “You want an elaborate tale or the sad truth?” he asked with a dimpled half-smile.
     “Sad truth,” I decided.
     “I was sick of Finish Line carryout and was headed here to have a decent dinner alone,” he admitted.
     “Oh, that is just sad,” I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You have an awful wife, leaving you to scavenge the countryside searching for sustenance.”
     He lifted his hand to use an index finger and gently smoothed my bangs off of my brow, grinning down at me. He leaned down and whispered softly in my ear, “Not the only hunger that I have, babe. Believe me.”
     The hostess returned just then, interrupting and I was thankful. I didn’t even want to think about that other hunger. 

   Book #1 of the series Out of the Past is FREE for your kindle LINK http://amzn.com/B009ZZDVJS

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Iowa Author Fest 2015

Had a great time yesterday at the Iowa Author Fest and met many great people and fellow authors. Such a variety of talented writers representing genre's for everyone's taste, from children's books to horror stories!  Great day.


Thursday, September 17, 2015

Iowa Author Fest

Iowa Author Fest Sat. Sep 26, 2015  
9a.m. Brenton Skating Plaza. 

Hope to see you there!!! 
While they last I will have a special tri-fold genealogy chart of Dave and Torie's family included with the sale of the three book series. The books will be specially priced as well.

If I Die Young by The Band Perry and Out of the Past

Out of the Past is FREE for Kindle. http://amzn.com/B009ZZDVJS

 Another great song from the play list of Out of the Past. If I Die Young by The Band Perry. https://youtu.be/7NJqUN9TClM

Excerpt --

Once the family members were seated, a recording of a song began to play over the speakers from some unknown source. It was The Band Perry and their song “If I Die Young” which was perfect but such a heartbreaking choice, and I couldn’t help but think that Claire or maybe one of her close friends had chosen this song for her—someone else who’d known how she’d longed to find her true love.

The crowd all stood as if in one single motion, in a show of respect as we watched the light honey-maple stained casket draped with a large spray of pink roses making its way toward the front of the sanctuary while the words of the song brought tears to the eyes of most of those in attendance.













Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Out of the Past--my inspiration

My inspiration for the following opening scene of the story. My own great grandparents in their living room. Out of the Past is a modern day romance with a time travel twist and is a FREE read on Amazon . LINK TO BOOK ****

Snippit

I accepted the album from his outstretched hand and found the tab marked ‘Front Room’ and held the album up against the wall. The flowers, which were varying shades of flat gray in the photograph, were in vivid detail before my eyes—large powder and royal-blue peonies blossoms, delicate butter-yellow roses, silver cattails, and so many different shades of green leaves and stems, from bright, to Olive, to Forest, all with subtle silvery highlights and lowlights that added life; just a riot of color, depth and motion.

“I would have never guessed,” I breathed, completely awestruck. “Do you think it all looks as good as this small area?”

When I turned to look at him, I found Dave was standing with his arms folded over his chest, watching my reaction with a broad grin on his face.

“I wouldn’t count on it, Torie, especially around the windows and the fireplace there,” he said pointing at the soot blackened hearth. “I expect to find some damage in those areas but at least we have the pattern and colors so that we can order it custom. I’m hoping to find little remnants like this elsewhere in the house to help with the authenticity of the finished look. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“It would sure make our lives easier,” I agreed, nodding.

I held the photo album out in front of me and moved around the room until I was lined up exactly with the windows and fireplace visible in the tintype photograph. This was an older photo, taken around 1883. My grandfather had told me once that early photographers would travel around entire regions, making their living by charging for tintypes and leaving behind these little gems that were glimpses back in time and would ultimately become family heirlooms.

The time frame fit with the subjects of the photo. My great-great-grandma Rose and her husband Judson were seated in matching bent cane rocking chairs. Rose was posed as though she had just looked up from reading a book that was open upon her lap; Grandpa Judson was clutching the arms of his rocking chair and staring the camera down, very stoic and proud.

There was a beautiful flowered oil lamp with a glass shade and dangling fonts sitting on the table between them. The table also held a framed tintype of my great-grandmother Alice Wyman Mills at about nineteen years old and her sisters, two-year-old Emily Wyman and infant Ivy Wyman McFall, circa 1869. The fourth Wyman daughter, Mahala, wasn’t born until 1870. Between Alice, the oldest, and the girls at the bottom of the pecking order, were three Wyman brothers, not pictured.

I turned my attention to the room’s ceiling which in the photo was papered also, with a completely different pattern of flowers than that of the walls. I wondered aloud if the original pattern could still be up there, hidden under layers and layers of tawny and peeling white paint.

“I’ll be finding out in the next week or so,” Dave answered. “You’ll want it reproduced as well?”

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “That might be just a bit too busy for my taste but if it isn’t too crazy, yes I think so. I guess we can discuss that when we see it.”

“Sure,” Dave agreed with a nod.

I scuffed the toe of my tennis shoe along the hardwood floor that in the photo was covered with a large area rug that featured Iowa wildlife scenes but which was now just barren and gnarled old wood. Dave bent down beside me, smoothing his hand along the defect my shoe had discovered.

“That’ll be fine,” he assured me. “The original makings of a great hardwood floor are in there, it just needs a good sanding and fresh stain to bring it back to life.”

“I’ll take your word on that,” I said a little unbelievingly, turning my attention back to the album and the tintype.

A framed photograph of people unknown to me hung on the far wall back behind Rose and Judson. I’d gone so far as to have this photograph professionally restored and analyzed, but the large family portrait hanging on the wall in the background was, at best, just a fuzzy image of my long-gone relatives, lost to time.

“Okay. Moving on,” Dave announced, walking backward as he motioned me to follow and ushered me back across the entry and through another arched doorway on the far side of the front foyer.
ttp://amzn.com/B009ZZDVJS


Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Beaverdale Books Aug 8, 2015

Hope to see you there 1-3pm

Beaverdale Books, Local Author Fair, signing event

Beaverdale, Ia






Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Out of the Past snippit

Out of the Past...snippet. FREE READ
Paranormal, Sci-fi, Time Travel

AMAZON LINK 

Sitting cross-legged, with my elbows braced upon my knees and hunched over Dave’s supine body as I was; I imagine that I likely resembled a medieval gargoyle perched precariously upon the ledge of some Gothic building. I closely observed his face and marveled at that eerily blank and yet oddly tranquil repose that I’d glimpsed upon my own countenance when I’d recently videotaped my own time travel experience. It was entirely different though, seeing it manifest itself upon someone else’s face.
     I’d been back for nearly an hour now and using the time to note the other physical effects of time travel upon the human body, namely Dave’s body, as he continued to remain unresponsive. Such as the change in his skin temperature going from heated with a sheen of sweat beading upon his forehead, to a coolness that was a little creepy and corpse-like. Both of these were somewhat indicative of him going through non-REM and REM sleep cycles except that there was no movement behind his gently closed eyelids, hinting at any dreaming, even though he definitely appeared to be in a deep enough sleep that he should be dreaming.

     Also, in spite of his wildly fluctuating skin temperature, his breathing and heart rate continued to remain slow and regular. Even his usual nocturnal tumescence, referred to by Dave as his ahem—morning glory had yet to arise this day, if you get my meaning and no I hadn’t molested the man in his sleep, I’d just looked and with a purely scientific interest. http://amzn.com/B009ZZDVJS

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Coming soon...



Three very different stories...



 Torn, snippet

    

When I come down the darkened hallway from the living room toward my bedroom, I am a little down and ready to call it a night but I pull my phone out of my pocket and can see the pulsing light signaling I have a message and suddenly I am completely revived.

I flip on my bedroom light and Mark yells from behind me, “Brian, I’m making a frozen pizza. You want some,” he asks coming after me to stand at my door.

 “A…yeah,” I say distracted. “I’ll be there in a minute.

 I glance around to see him nodding, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. He just stands at the threshold watching me.  I use my foot to push my door closed on him, but he sticks out a hand, stopping it.  “You didn’t,” he groans. “Tell me you didn’t.”

 “I did,” I answer shortly.

 “You’re asking for trouble,” he predicts but grins at me and is shaking his head.

 “Totally worth it,” I reply with a smile just before I close the door in his face.

I can hear him hooting with laughter and then he starts belting out some unrecognizable tune, (he’s completely tone deaf), as he heads back toward the kitchen. I can hear our roommate Adam come barreling into the front door of the house and it sounds as though he has brought company. At least one female voice echoes down the hallway.
     I open the new message screen, anticipating and it is, it's from her.

     “U2 Brian…

     I study the seven characters as if by staring at them they will somehow rearrange themselves to mean something more. They don’t and I can’t blame her, not after everything we’ve been through and then seeing me tonight with, of all people, Laurie.

**********

Claire White of Cedar County Iowa, snippet



June 1861
Cedar County Iowa
    

Nathan LaRue fears that the breakneck pace on the rough road is sorely testing the strength and wind of his chestnut gelding, because it is neither a pace nor a trek that the old plow horse has ever been asked to make before. Nearly dusk now and after half a day of toiling in the fields, old Buck, bless him, was giving him his all. Nate has no choice but to ask it of him, as Lizzie’s very life lay in the balance. He digs his heels into the horse’s sides again and lays the strop of his reins into Buck’s rump.

 “Yah! Get up there!”

 Leaving Lizzie alone in the house for even these few minutes could become her eternity, Nate knows, but if he can’t find help for her, he will lose her for sure. Plain bad luck that Doc Harper happens to be away at West Branch just now helping out with a new group of poor souls, but Doc always tries to be there to give medical care to any of those in need before they continue their escape along the underground railroad, hoping for a chance at freedom up North in Canada. Doc Harper wasn’t expected back for two more days and in the midst of a life and death struggle, Lizzie didn’t have two more days. Her only chance was for him to get to the neighbor's place and Claire White. If any other person could possibly save his young wife and their unborn child, it would be Missus White. He just prays that he will find her at home.



Love's Endurance, the sequel to Love's Vengeance, snippet

Somerset Bermuda 1689

    

       Timothy had his back turned as he tied Sebastian to a hitching post and smiled to himself, hearing the titter of giggles coming from behind him and just inside the house near the front door. It was, no doubt, Lizzie’s constant irritations and little sisters, eleven-year-old Clara, nine-year-old Esther and little five-year-old Ruth, jockeying for a spot to have a better view out of the window.

         “Esther, go tell Lizzie that Tim is here!” Clara ordered.

 “No you go! I want to see Tim!”

He watched the three, positioned at the window that edged the front door and waved at them with an amused smile, causing them to titter with excitement.

The door opened abruptly and all three girls spilled out onto the front porch to meet him and he was immediately hit with a gush of excited questions.

  “Tim, is it true that you are here to speak with father?” Clara exclaimed, hugging his hand to her cheek. “We overheard father talking with Lizzie. You are going to be married? Yes?”

  “Are you going to be our new uncle?” Ruthie piped up, tugging at his coattail with chubby little hands and gazing up at him, all wide-blue eyes and bouncing-brown curls.

   “Not uncle Ruthie, brother in law. He will be our new brother,” Clara corrected her little sister patiently.

   “Should I go find Lizzie?” Esther offered. “She was out in the backyard last I saw her.”

   “No Esther, let's just let Lizzie be, for the time being. Could you announce me to your father though?” he asked, laughing as he disentangled himself from Clara and Ruthie’s grips and then he lifted Ruthie into his arms, “And please girls, let me speak with him alone for a moment, will you? Can you find him and then run along for just a bit? You will be the first I speak with—after Lizzie, of course. Can you do that for me?”

They all entered the house en masse and just within Tim placed Ruth upon her own two feet.  

“Of course Tim,” Clara assured him. “Come along girls, let’s go and call father. Tim you wait in the parlor.” She gestured to the room off the front hall and then with a blur of matching blue gingham and bouncy brown curls, the three scampered off in search of their father.