Journey of a Novel: WWII Romance

INSPIRATION  

I grew up listening to my mom recount memories of growing up in the 1940s. Phoenix was a small, Southwest town with single lanes and closeknit communities. The war ended, soldiers came home, and Hollywood documented American life in the most romantic terms. Through my mom's stories and watching old movies, I fell in love with the era. My mom and dad met, fell in love, and married in the 1940s. Their story, of two poor families...one without a mother and one without a father...is the basis of Post-War Dreams. And to put my mom at ease, yes I did fabricate a few things.

I labored on this romance novel for years. What was originally Honey On White Bread was the first full length book I wrote. No one wanted it. So, I put it away and went on to publish several other books. I found my niche in romantic suspense and most recently cozy mystery.

But eventually, I dusted it off, rewrote and edited it, and published it as Post-War Dreams. It's the book of my heart. The story unfolds in two points of view. Claire is a senior in high school, mature for her age, taking care of her alcoholic father. Her mother died when she was a toddler. Her point of view is first person. The other, in third person, is Benjamin who wasn't able to finish high school because he had to go to work to support his mom, brothers, and sisters who struggled to survive after his father abandoned them. 

I’m sharing two short excerpts today from Post-War Dreams.

ONE

Claire shook back her hair and lifted tresses the color of a summer sunset from her neck with a flourish. “I’d definitely like to pursue a career in the movies.” The word theatrical came to mind while her smile dazzled him. “This contest should be a lot of fun.” She stared directly into his eyes, the dark brown of hers simmered. “Do you go to the movies?” 

“Now and then.” 

She dipped her chin and gave him a beguiling upwards glance. “I bet you’re a Rita Hayworth man.” When he only shrugged, she continued, surprising him with her flirtatious tone. “Come on, now. We all have our favorites.” 

“Yeah, she’s…okay.” The words he could use for the sexy, red-haired actress he’d leave unspoken to the young Claire. “Do you dance and act in addition to singing?” 

“I will.” She nodded, quite serious. “I think it’s best to be well-rounded, if you’re going to have a chance in Hollywood. I don’t exactly have any credits to my name yet, still, I’m pretty sure I could act, if given the chance. As far as dancing, yes, a few lessons will be in order, eventually.” 

“So, it’ll be off to Hollywood for you after graduation?” Unusually confident for a high school girl, he could imagine her hopping on a bus to follow her ambitions. Pity. “Not interested in hanging around Phoenix to raise a family?” 

“Oh goodness, lots of time.” Once again, she pushed the hair from her silky-smooth neck with a flip of her fingers. “Following your heart should be first.” 

And who will steal your lovely heart, lovely Claire? 

 

TWO

“But…but you can’t love Susan.” My voice, soft as a whisper, didn’t betray the rising fear boiling up from the pit of my stomach. 

He gripped my arms with emphasis. “No, I don’t.” 

My stomach calmed a bit, the fear at a simmer. “Does she love you?” I had to convince him his thinking had clearly gotten off course. 

“No. I mean I don’t think so.” 

“Is she demanding you love her?” Love was everything. Without love, this wasn’t our problem. 

“No…”  

His hesitation cheered me on. My panic churned barely below the surface as I led him down the path of reason. “Well, then, Benjamin, why—” 

“Claire, she’s pregnant. I’ll have to marry her.” 

“Marry?” I choked on the word. Fear and panic erupted. “Oh, God, no. Benjamin!” The tears toppled and flooded my cheeks. “This is her problem.” 

“You know it isn’t, Claire.” His words were thick and strained. “I have to take responsibility.” 

“No, Benjamin, no!” I slapped my palms to his chest as if I could stop this madness with a physical barrier. “No, you don’t.” 

He encircled my waist, gently caressed, but held me firm until my tantrum played out. 

I folded into his chest, but my anger still had some steam. I balled one hand into a fist and hit his chest. “Why? Why do you always have to do the right thing? Why?” I swiped away tears so I could see his reaction when I glared into his face. 

His chest heaved as he stared into my hostility with calmness. “You wouldn’t love me if I didn’t.”

BOOK LINKS:

https://www.amazon.com/Post-War-Dreams-Brenda-Whiteside-ebook/dp/B015AO6B1M 

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/post-war-dreams/id1040722643?mt=11

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/post-war-dreams-brenda-whiteside/1122626545?ean=2940151181877 

https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Post-War-Dreams/Brenda-Whiteside/9781509203529?id=8220345408823  paper 

https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Post-War-Dreams/Brenda-Whiteside/Q335588623?id=8220345408823  ebook 

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/post-war-dreams-1 

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Brenda_Whiteside_Post_War_Dreams?id=oW-5CgAAQBAJ 

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26239988-post-war-dreams?ac=1&from_search=true 

https://www.bookbub.com/books/post-war-dreams-by-brenda-whiteside

 

A Moment’s #Inspiration by Janet Raye Stevens #MuseMonday

MUSE MONDAY

How fun...a WWII story that is also a paranormal suspense. Let's hear where Janet found her inspiration and all about the book.

My new book, A Moment After Dark, a World War II-set paranormal suspense, is a culmination of both my interest in the odd and otherworldly and WWII history. Blame it on my childhood. As a kid, I loved TV shows like The Twilight Zone and especially the supernatural and soapy daytime drama, Dark Shadows. How I loved the spooky settings, gothic suspense, to-die-for costumes and hairdos, and vampire and unlikely sex symbol, Barnabas Collins! I also lived in a public housing project, populated for the most part by WWII veterans. Practically every dad, and some of the moms, had served in the war in some capacity. I grew up hearing their stories and became steeped in the history of that singular moment in time. When I started writing fiction years later, it made sense my life-long interests would inspire my stories, particularly A Moment After Dark, a historical romantic suspense with a paranormal twist, set in the first week of December, 1941. 

A Moment After Dark blurb: 

She sees the future with a touch. A powerful gift in a time of war.

The enemy wants her. The Allies need her. 

When Addie Brandt touches someone, she sees their future, and it’s rarely good. Mocked and teased her whole life, Addie hides from the world in her family’s funeral home. But when her second sight shows her a horrific vision of an attack on the Pearl Harbor Naval base, the gruesome images are too intense to ignore, and she tries to raise the alarm. Will anyone listen?

 

Federal agent Jack Dunstan needs a miracle. He’s still reeling from the betrayal that nearly decimated his team of agents with paranormal powers, a vengeful Nazi spy with a terrifying ability of his own is out to destroy him, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before America is drawn into the war raging around the world. Hearing rumors of Addie’s vision, he seeks her out, hoping she could be the miracle he’s looking for.

 

Addie’s not sure she trusts Jack Dunstan. He’s rude, cocky, and insists on calling her curse of second sight a “gift.” But if she wants to save lives and prevent a terrible disaster, she has to put aside her fears and learn to embrace her ability. 

With the US on the brink of war and an enemy agent hunting her for her power, Addie must learn to trust Dunstan—and herself—to stop an attack that could change the course of history. 

A Moment After Dark Excerpt: 

Addie Brandt, determined to raise the alarm about her vision of an attack on Pearl Harbor, goes to the police to report what she's seen—but it doesn't go as she hopes: 

“What do you expect me to do?” Sgt. Gillis asked.

Addie’s frustration and anger threatened to boil over. “Can’t you call the Navy or the FBI or someone?” 

“And tell them what? A fanciful girl thinks there might be an attack on one of our naval bases at some point in the future? I’m sorry, dear, that’s not what police work is. I can’t call anyone without something solid to go on.” Gillis held out his hand. “Or some kind of proof.”

She stared at his palm as if it held a bomb. Touch him? What good would that do? If the Sight showed her a vision, it would most likely be terrible. And whatever she saw might not happen for some time. She shook her head.

The sergeant frowned. “I thought as much. Why don’t you run on home, Miss Brandt, and forget this foolishness?”

Addie lost the battle to hold her temper. By golly, she’d do it.

Cool air tickled her skin as she stripped off a glove. Silence fell in the precinct. Addie’s hand hovered over Gillis’s and she cringed. She hadn’t held anyone’s hand since Mother’s, years ago, when the Sight showed her Mother was going to die.

But she had to. With the fate of so many hanging in the balance, she had to touch him.

She pressed her fingers against his. Instantly, darkness as black as pitch blanketed her mind. Horrific images flashed. Terrifying sensations beat against her brain. It took every ounce of strength she had to tear out of the Sight’s grip.

She opened her eyes to see Sgt. Gillis smirking at her. “Well? Where’s my proof?” he said.

Addie scrabbled her glove back onto her hand and shot out of her seat. The chair legs squawked against the floorboards. “I-I can’t,” she said hastily. “I’m sorry.”

“Crazy as a loon,” she heard one of the policemen say as she dashed across the room.

Burning with fury and humiliation, Addie flung open the front door and slammed into a wall. No, not a wall. A man. A powerfully built man, with shoulders as broad as an anchor filling his overcoat and a chest apparently made of iron. She looked up to see a face like Dick Tracy in the funny papers—all angles. Razor sharp jaw, full lips, crooked nose, black hair under a fedora perched at a rakish angle. And eyes the color of brown sugar. Curious eyes that kept her gaze a moment too long.

“Whoa, sister, where’s the fire?” he said, his voice as deep as the ocean. He smelled like the ocean, too. Fresh, salty-sharp, like he’d been born on Pott’s Beach.

She laughed bitterly. Couldn’t help it, after what the Sight had inflicted on her in the heartbeat she’d held the sergeant’s hand. Addie as Gillis, at the foot of a massive structure engulfed in flames. She’d ripped herself out of the vision before the burning structure collapsed and the scorching embers crashed onto her. Or Gillis, rather. But she knew with certainty the sergeant would die a fiery death.

Somehow, she made it around the big man she’d slammed into, mighty glad her hands were covered, and she couldn’t make contact with him. She’d had enough of the Sight for one day.

Besides, she did not want to know what could fell a Redwood tree of a man like him. 

Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Moment-After-Dark-Paranormal-Suspense-ebook/dp/B09MDQL14Z/ref

Other Booksellers: https://books2read.com/u/bOJBkN 

Janet Raye Stevens Bio & Social Media Links: 

Meet award-winning author Janet Raye Stevens, mom, reader, tea-drinker (okay, tea guzzler), and weaver of adventurous, occasionally heartbreaking, and stealthily romantic tales.

A Derringer Award nominee, Janet’s work has been recognized multiple times, including the Daphne du Maurier award and RWA's Golden Heart® award for Cole for Christmas. Janet writes mystery, time travel, paranormal, and the occasional Christmas romance with humor, heart, and a dash of suspense.

She lives in New England with her handsome better half and their equally impressive children.

Connect with Janet at: Website: https://janetrayestevens.com/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janetrayestevens/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/janrayestevens

Ripped from the Pages... #MuseMonday #Inspiration #WRPbks

When I don't have a guest on Muse Monday, I'll share excerpts with photos that inspired scenes from my books.  

I grew up listening to my mom recount memories from the 1940s. I fell in love with the era and with the love story between my mom and dad. Although I write romantic suspense for the most part, my historical romance, Post-War Dreams, is the book of my heart.

 

I’m sharing two short excerpts today.

 

ONE

Claire shook her hair back and lifted tresses the color of a summer sunset from her neck with a flourish. “I’d definitely like to pursue a career in the movies.” The word theatrical came to mind while her smile dazzled him. “This contest should be a lot of fun.” She stared directly into his eyes, the dark brown of hers simmered. “Do you go to the movies?” 

“Now and then.” 

She dipped her chin and gave him a beguiling upwards glance. “I bet you’re a Rita Hayworth man.”

When he only shrugged, she continued, surprising him with her flirtatious tone. “Come on, now. We all have our favorites.” 

“Yeah, she’s…okay.” The words he could use for the sexy, red-haired actress he’d leave unspoken to the young Claire. “Do you dance and act in addition to singing?” 

“I will.” She nodded, quite serious. “I think it’s best to be well-rounded, if you’re going to have a chance in Hollywood. I don’t exactly have any credits to my name yet, still, I’m pretty sure I could act, if given the chance. As far as dancing, yes, a few lessons will be in order, eventually.” 

“So, it’ll be off to Hollywood for you after graduation?” Unusually confident for a high school girl, he could imagine her hopping on a bus to follow her ambitions. Pity. “Not interested in hanging around Phoenix to raise a family?” 

“Oh goodness, lots of time.” Once again, she pushed the hair from her silky-smooth neck with a flip of her fingers. “Following your heart should be first.” 

And who will steal your lovely heart? 

 

TWO

“But…but you can’t love Susan.” My voice, soft as a whisper, didn’t betray the rising fear boiling up from the pit of my stomach. 

He gripped my arms with emphasis. “No, I don’t.” 

My stomach calmed a bit, the fear at a simmer. “Does she love you?” I had to convince him his thinking had clearly gotten off course. 

“No. I mean I don’t think so.” 

“Is she demanding you love her?” Love was everything. Without love, this wasn’t our problem. 

“No…”  

His hesitation cheered me on. My panic churned barely below the surface as I led him down the path of reason. “Well, then, Benjamin, why—” 

“Claire, she’s pregnant. I’ll have to marry her.” 

“Marry?” I choked on the word. Fear and panic erupted. “Oh, God, no. Benjamin!” The tears toppled and flooded my cheeks. “This is her problem.” 

“You know it isn’t, Claire.” His words were thick and strained. “I have to take responsibility.” 

“No, Benjamin, no!” I slapped my palms to his chest as if I could stop this madness with a physical barrier. “No, you don’t.” 

He encircled my waist, gently caressed, but held me firm until my tantrum played out. 

I folded into his chest, but my anger still had some steam. I balled one hand into a fist and hit his chest. “Why? Why do you always have to do the right thing? Why?” I swiped away tears so I could see his reaction when I glared into his face. 

His chest heaved as he stared into my hostility with calmness. “You wouldn’t love me if I didn’t.”

BOOK LINKS:

AMAZON

APPLE

BARNES AND NOBLE

BOOKS-A-MILLION  paper 

BOOKS-A-MILLION ebook 

KOBO

GOOGLE STORE

GOODREADS

BOOKBUB