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10 August 2011

A glimpse into the life and work of the enchanting mystery romance writer Miss Mae

HL: I'm absolutely delighted to have my dear friend, fellow author and crit partner, Miss Mae, as my special guest today.  Miss Mae writes amazing, edge-of-your-seat mystery romances, scintillating children's fantasy stories about the whacky 'Gumdrop Island', and is now branching out into Science Fiction Romance, as well as writing articles and designing book covers - is their any end to this amazing lady's talent?  You can see some of her books above, with the covers she designed herself. She also designed the gorgeous cover for my own story 'Dancing With Fate', (which you can see in the sidebar on the right.)  Anyway, without further ado, let me hand you over to Miss Mae herself!

M.M.: Hello to everyone, and a huge “thank you” to Lyn for having me over to guest today. (If you’ve not read one of her books, you don’t know what you’re missing! Grab a copy of “Starquest” today and start reading!)

Shall we begin with introductions? I’m Miss Mae, and I write romantic mysteries. I prefer the word ‘mysteries’ as opposed to ‘suspense’. Why, you ask? Well, I don’t know. I just do! J

I reside in the US, in the south. I love the movie, “Gone With the Wind” (rrrr Rhett Bulter!), and since the heroine, Scarlett, was always called “Miss”, a proper southern address for proper southern young ladies, you understand, I chose my pen name to reflect that distinction.  Sometimes I also use the initials MM. Marilyn Monroe was often ascribed this way. Though, of course, I might be confused with that glamorous Hollywood starlet, I assure you we are not the one and same!

So, what would you prefer I chat about? My books? Nah, you can visit my website (www.missmaesite.com) to find more information on those. My book covers? (yes, I do design some.) My alter ego cleverly named M.M.? (note the periods) Ah, again, more information available at this site (www.mishapsofgumdropisland.webs.com) What about my newest trailers?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4Rid0mbs1M and also
(Editor's note - you can also see both these thrilling trailers at the foot of this post! Well worth a look.)
Miss Mae's 'Champ'

Hmm. You know we can discuss animals, as in what pets do you cherish and share your life with? I am an animal enthusiast, and feature a weekly segment at my blog. Doggy Tales now has an official badge/star for guests to display! (Your appearance is indeed solicited!) 

But, however, if you’d prefer more of the Southern charm, like snacking on a slice of pecan pie while relaxing beneath the shade of delicately scented magnolia blooms, may I offer you a plate? While you’re at it, why not partake of a jug…I mean, a glass of my Grandpappy Beauregard’s ‘what-knocked-me-upside-o’-the-head’ Lemonade. Believe me, after one taste of this tart (that’s putting it mildly) and throat-clutching, black-eyed, savagely defended family recipe, (“Cousin Jethro, where you goin’ wit’ that exilir? Auntie Sal, quick! Quick! Trip ‘im wit’ yer parasaw!”) you’ll be always, and forever, concretely footed into the world of Miss Mae!  

Blurb for “Catch Me If You Can”:

Washed ashore a South Carolina beach, Lois Steinberg learns her shelter, an old plantation house, was scheduled to host a 'Catch Me' game convention. When the cook is found murdered, questions mount as quickly as bodies. Who is the villain? None of the guests know each other except for their love of the game - right? But it's not a game Lois seeks to solve. It's the saving of her life.



They were only inches apart. Victor watched her with eyes so dark the pupils disappeared. She tried to move, she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t drop her gaze. She saw him flick his eyes toward her mouth.
“I—it…” Blood rushing to beat against her eardrums, she couldn’t hear her own words.
Searching gaze scorching her flesh, he tilted her chin up with the tip of an index finger. “Who are you, Lois Steinberg?”

“What?” The breath hitched in her throat.

“Tell me about you.” His husky whisper stirred the hair at her temple. “I want to learn everything there is.”
Finally able to lower her lids, she pulled away. “Believe me, you don’t. I’m as boring as mud.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”

“We really should follow B.J.” She tugged her hand from his warm grasp, but his followed. Victor glanced down and chuckled.

“Wait a minute. You’re caught in my watchband.” He raised their attached wrists, his fingers tickling where they fumbled at her shirt cuff. To get a closer look, he leaned toward her and bent his head. Lois drank in the allure of how the ceiling light extracted a purple sheen from the depths of his thick raven hair.

“Spiced apple,” she murmured, not realizing she voiced her thoughts.

“Huh?” He jerked his head up. Their noses almost bumped.

“Nothing.” Heart thudding out of rhythm, Lois drew back as far as she dared without falling off balance.

“You mean Jenna’s complimentary shampoo?” He grinned. “Not what I would’ve chosen.”
The humor in his deep voice, the tenderness of his concern, and the magnetism of his very presence combined in one overwhelming punch. Senses threatening a mutiny, Lois struggled to retain a semblance of self-control. Averting her eyes, she reminded him, “I’m wearing Tia’s blouse. So, be careful.”

“Yeah.” He gave a slight frown and returned his attention to working the fabric loose. “Your clothes were made by a fancy New York designer.”

“I bought them second hand,” she said a bit too defensively.

“Hmm.” Not sounding convinced, Victor stated, “Your accent is definitely not southern. So,” he regarded her with open curiosity, “where are you from?”

“No one particular area. I—I travel a lot.”

“With your job?”

“Not necessarily. Look, can’t you hurry?”

“You want me to tear your borrowed shirt?”

“No.” She gave a resigned sigh. “But do you have to make me feel like you’re giving me the third degree?”

“If you don’t wanna chat,” he drawled, once again giving a deliberate perusal of her mouth, “we can do something else.”

Blurb for “Through a Glass Darkly”:
Computer viruses no longer exist, yet Vexen’s medical transport is held hostage by one. The hologram engineered to combat the deadly program develops an identity crisis. An alien intruder is discovered stowed away in the cargo bay. And the evil reptilian Delphan demands immediate surrender of her ship. Can anything else possibly go wrong?


“Working from this secondary control is like treading through muddy water.” Frowning in thought, he rubbed an absent-minded thumb down the side of his chin. Vexen watched the silken hairs of his bronze beard part beneath the nail, memory of how it felt to brush her lips against those soft, wiry strands ratcheting her pulse to an unsteady rhythm. With an effort, she yanked her thoughts back to the urgency of the moment as Leland announced, “I need to be with DELLA. I’m beaming over.”

“You can’t!” she protested. “We’re still within range of those gamma rays. I won’t be able to secure your signal.”

“I’m the closest thing that you have as any kind of expert, Vexen. But I need hands-on with DELLA. I’m sending the beaming coordinates.”

“No.” She slapped her fist against the panel, then, her gaze locked with his, she inhaled a deep, ragged breath. “Listen to me. If you think I’m going to take a chance of your atoms being vaporized in those rays--” She bit her lip to try and halt the hideous image that threatened to burst onto her mind’s eye. “Forget it. Remard and I will fight this together.”

“The two of you can’t do it alone.” Features softening, he waited for her to comment. But Vexen forced a brave smile. “I’m going to shut off the coms now so I can concentrate on Remard. See you later, darling.”

“No! Vexan!” As if realizing her seriousness, Leland reached out an imploring hand. “Damn you, all right, you win.” He released a heavy sigh. “Let me send a hologram. I can program it with everything I know.”

“Can it make it through the rays?” Hope, like a downy feather, tickled beneath her breast.

“It’ll come across at a lower frequency. There should be no problems. I’m punching in the coordinates. But to maneuver through the ship, he’ll need to wear a MR. Got one ready?”

“Uh--wait.” She fumbled beneath the console, hunting through the drawer of miscellaneous items until she spotted the Mini-Receiver. “Yes. Here’s one.” She flipped the ‘on’ button and placed it next to the monitor. A flash of movement from screen four showed her that Remard stole into the hallway leading to the cargo bay. She tensed, wondering what he might discover once he entered the area. “Beaming. Now.” Leland’s voice drew her attention back to the MR.

Softly hued, differing colored light swirled like an eddy above the object. The colors merged, blending into a solitary outline. A form reminiscent of Leland flickered, and then faded.

“More power!” she called out, trying to keep one eye on the MR while she directed the other at Remard.

“The virus has adapted to the block I engineered.” Leland’s monitor blurred, then his image reappeared. Fury shone in his charcoal tinted eyes. “It’s interfering with navigation again and trying to send you closer to the sun. There’s only one thing I know to do before--” His screen went black.

“Leland!” Vexen sped her fingers over the controls in a vain attempt to reach him. “What? What were you going to do?”

A low hum issued from the MR. Colors swirled again, brighter, more sharply defined. They collided into one solid mass, and then with a loud explosion of static, an impression of Leland stood before her.

HL: Thank you so much Miss Mae, it's been such a pleasure to have you as my guest, and to have this little insight into your world - and readers - if you haven't caught up with this wonderful author's books yet, visit her site at www.missmaesite.com where you will also be able to read her blog, crammed full of interesting articles, not least her Doggy Tales! There are also links and more details about all her books.