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Sequel, Sweet Sequel

As you regular readers may have noticed, I've been a bit MIA for the past few weeks. I've been writing.

Yes, you may all pick your jaws up off the floor now. I'll wait. :)

Beaudry's Ghost finally, finally has its sequel. I just turned it in to my editor today. Yeah, that would be Friday the 13th. That's as good a deadline as any, isn't it?

This book has been too long in coming. I knew I wanted - needed - to write Troy's story, the brother of the heroine in Beaudry's Ghost. Readers were demanding it. But I was at a bit of a loss. A ghost romance is a tricky thing in which the author dances a razor thin edge. When you're dealing with a relationship between a living person and a spirit, readers are only willing to suspend disbelief so far.

I'd turned myself inside out making Beaudry exciting, compelling, romantic - and believable. I was out of ideas for Troy, who was the secondary ghost character in that book. How to write another one that I felt carried on the Beaudry legacy, one that readers will happily go along with me on that ride and think "Yeah, that could happen."

Well, my newest baby has taken its first steps out of the nest - to my editor's desk. Now it's nail-biting time. I'm too close to it; I have no perspective. This past week I've swung wildly from absolutely loving this story, to staring at it in despair, sure that a drunken monkey could have written it better. Every author hits that wall during the birthing process.

Now without further ado, I'd like to share a short, unedited excerpt from the sequel to Beaudry's Ghost, "working title Dark Side of Light" "A Ghost of a Chance". Enjoy!

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Copyright 2008 Carolan Ivey, All Rights Reserved.

He’d never stayed in a materialized state for this long. The strain tore at him, threatened to separate the layers of his energy field and send them flying off into space like water rings from a dropped stone.

It had taken every atom of his strength to make the 3,000-mile spatial jump, on top of staying solid long enough to rescue the woman from the flooded cave. He’d intended to bring her all the way to the top of the cliff, leave her there to be found, and be on his way about finding John.

But the effort had cost him.

Troy glanced down at the face of the woman in his arms, grit his teeth and held on. If he lost control of his energy and faltered, she would die.

His superb sense of balance, an asset in life and still now in the afterlife, didn’t fail him now as he crouched on the narrow rock ledge, braced so the woman’s body wouldn’t slide off into the roiling sea that pounded at them, seemingly from all sides. Rain slapped them from above, and the wind and waves clawed at them from everywhere else.

Risking precious balance, he used one hand to gently unwind her long, matted black hair from around his arm and away from her face. Her lips were blue and slack, her eyes partially open and dull. He lowered his face to hers, checking for breath. Nothing. He let her head roll to one side and slid his fingers to the pulse point on her neck. If any life throbbed there, he couldn’t feel it for the vibrations of wind and storm.

“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t do this to me, lady...” He tilted her head back, filled his chest with air and covered her mouth with his.

He blew once, then swayed, dizzy, feeling his grip on his materialized state slipping dangerously with the extra effort it took to breathe for her. He clenched his jaw, tilted his head back and growled deep in his chest, willing his form to stay together, just a little longer. Just until help arrived. He’d seen two people poke their heads over the cliff edge above them, so he knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Not yet,” he muttered, using the vibration of his voice to send binding messages throughout his energy field, reminding it that no matter what the laws of physics said, he was in charge, here. Never mind the fact that before now he’d only managed to stay solid for a few minutes at a time, and only in dire emergencies. The last time he’d done it was for the lives of his sister and Beaudry, and for his effort he’d earned a bullet in his shoulder to keep company with the gaping hole he carried around in his chest.

He lowered his mouth and breathed for her again, turning his head to feel her automatic exhale, this time accompanied by a gush of water.

Yes! Another breath into her lungs. Were her lips slightly warmer? He left his own there for a second or two longer than necessary, testing. A faint green color flickered in front of his eyes, like the brief flash of a hummingbird, there and gone. He tore his mouth away from hers and looked up to see what kind of strange lightning this could be, then he ducked and pressed her body tightly to his as a heavy wave broke over them. The water lifted them both off the ledge, and only by sheer will did he manage to bring them back onto the ledge safely. How much higher was the tide going to rise?

He shook water from his face, pressed the woman’s body firmly between himself and the cliff wall, and bent his head to hers once again. She had to start breathing on her own soon. He couldn’t keep this up.

A movement off to his right snagged his attention. A glowing figure, winged and silent, stood on a nearby ledge, observing, not moving. Her guardian angel, clearly. He spared the being a two-second glare, then lost patience.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to do anything, here?”

The guardian’s expression grew thoughtful, then regretful. But it didn’t move, either to help or to hinder.

“Thanks a bunch,” Troy growled, and ignored the creature, turning back to the task at hand.

Breeeeeeathe...

Without thinking what he was doing, he willed life into her. Closed his eyes and focused his energy inside her body, targeting her lungs, her barely fluttering heart.

This time, he felt her jaw move under his mouth, and her body flex in his arms. The weird pale green lightning flickered around them again. Her first strong heartbeat resounded like a bell throughout his being, her first voluntary breath sucking in what he’d given her.

Then, before he could lift his mouth from hers, she breathed into him.

Troy nearly lost his balance, and flung out one arm to find a fingertip hold on the rock. Her breath filled his mouth, his chest, and even with his eyes closed he saw the faint green flickers of light strengthen, steady, intensify into a solid glow greener than any brilliant shade Ireland had to offer on its best day. Heat rushed through him, and it took him a moment to register the fact that he felt it at all.

As a ghost, normal physical sensations were foreign to him. Now every drop of rain hitting his skin felt like a needle. And his wounds, normally painless, were now screaming him.

He tore his mouth away and stared down at her. Her eyelids trembled, opened, light grey irises expanding as her pupils focused on his face. The fiery light burned in their depths. Even with their mouths now separated, her strengthening heartbeat echoed through his being, rushing around him as if he were a child enveloped in her womb.

What the hell is happening to me?

If he were anywhere else but perched on a narrow ledge, an inch from losing her to the maw of the sea, he would have done a quick about face and put as much space and time between them as possible. But stay he did, her life force growing stronger and flowing like a river under his hands, into him, through him, and back to her. She seemed to be studying him, her mouth moving slightly as if trying to form words. But if she made any sound, it was swallowed by sea and storm. Then her eyes slid closed and her head rolled to nestle against his chest, fitting perfectly under his chin.

Troy swallowed, trying not to breathe in any more of the living energy that still enveloped them both. Something about it was as seductive as it was disturbing, and all his instincts screamed to get outside it and look at it from an objective distance before deciding what to do about it, if anything at all.

He took her cold hands, intending to tuck them inside her coat, when he caught sight of the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger.

She belongs to someone. Absurdly, the thought felt like a sucker punch to his solar plexus.

He looked up, and finally, finally, he saw two people rappelling down the cliff, red-and-black jumpsuits making ripping sounds in the wind, a metal litter dangling between them.

“Take her first,” he yelled above the crashing tide as the rescuers reached them.

Their reply was lost in the noise, but they quickly assessed the situation and expertly relieved him of his burden.

The instant body separated from his, he felt himself dissolving, the last of his strength leaving as the green light faded. One of the rescuers cried out in alarm, but could do nothing as Troy’s grip on the rock slipped, and the icy grey sea closed over his head.

Copyright 2008 Carolan Ivey, All Rights Reserved

www.carolanivey.com

Ecataromance.com Review: Beaudry's Ghost

I don't normally toot my horn like this, but I just got this review for Beaudry's Ghost from Amelia Richard at ecataromance.com. The more I read, the farther down my jaw dropped. It's quite possibly the most amazing review I've ever received!

Carolan Ivey has crafted a fascinating scenario for her paranormal story, as the imaginative author lets readers experience a multitude of emotions from the often heart-pounding circumstances. The numerous conflicts faced by the characters are frequently chilling and always packed with powerfully intense feelings.

After the death of her twin brother while serving his country, Taylor Brannon feels as though her life has no direction anymore, not even when working at the museum. Both she and her sibling loved anything dealing with the Civil War, so she decides to take his place in the re-enactment of a battle along the North Carolina coast. Although she hoped the event would bring some peace to her life, she quickly finds herself thrown into a frightening nightmare.

Although Jared Beaudry was killed by a ruthless Southern officer in 1862, his spirit still roams the area where he suffered and was even wrongly dishonored as a Union soldier. When he comes upon the group of re-enactors, Jared is helped by another ghost in the hope of finally getting retribution for his death so he can move on. Unfortunately, when he takes possession of the body of another man, he changes more than he could every have imagined.

When Taylor realizes her friends are acting strangely, her psychic abilities tell her they have been taken over by the spirits of the original Civil War soldiers. Her capabilities also let her know the Union prisoner is actually the man whom all believed was just a legend. With her being the only one who can see the truth of the situation besides Jared, she feels staying to fight for the lives of those men she knows is her only option. However, as Taylor learns more about Jared and the disturbing chain of events he had to live through during the war, she finds herself potently drawn to this man and his tragic life.

With heartfelt moments and tension-filled situations, Carolan Ivey brings out the deepest of emotions in her story. Though rather long in length, readers are compelled to quickly keep reading the pages in order to discover what will occur next, plus all its content just means more enthralling scenes. From the first mysterious supernatural event to the riveting conclusion, the suspense mounts as totally unanticipated twists constantly arise. The way this skilled author smoothly blends history and fiction in BEAUDRY’S GHOST is ingenious, as one comes to completely believe each mesmerizing occurrence could possibly take place. Creatively thought out in each scene, this distinctively innovative story intrigues with the out of the ordinary circumstances always surrounding Jared and Taylor. The lives of this couple are portrayed with a depth not typically shown in a story, as unusual heartaches and tribulations presently consume them. They both have an enormous amount of determination, and neither is willing to give in when faced with impossible odds. The inner feelings of Jared and Taylor are passionately depicted, resulting in convincing sincerity between them. Hopefully there will be a sequel, as there are significant questions just begging for an answer. BEAUDRY’S GHOST is continuously gripping with intensity, as reality and the supernatural collide at every turn.
~Amelia Richard

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Beaudry's Ghost, coming Jan. 4

It's official - Beaudry's Ghost is "coming soon" on the Samhain site! Click here. Many thanks to Dawn Seewer for the amazing cover!

Emerging from the Dungeon of Revision

Hi folks, I've been MIA for a couple of days while I finish up this (dare I say, the last?) round of revisions on BEAUDRY'S GHOST.

May I just say, the problem with having a VSE (Very Sharp Editor) is that they make you work. Yes, that was a whine!

The benefit? If you're open to constructive criticism, a VSE can push you to grow your skills as a writer. Beaudry won awards in its first life as a Dreams Unlimited eBook. A couple years and another edit/revision later under the LTDBooks banner, it won another award, from the Independent Publishers of America.

And now, with Samhain Publishing, I have yet another chance to go back and revisit this book of my heart, this time with an editor who doesn't know its history and who could look at it with complete objectivity.

Let me tell you, it's not a comfortable process to have what you thought was your best work at the time picked apart and analyzed, exposing every flaw! I learned a lot about how much my writing style has changed; things I used to be oblivious to are now some of my biggest pet peeves. I head-hopped. I let my plot wander down tangents that didn't move the story forward. My characters' motivations were unclear at best, and at worst, changed from chapter to chapter. I didn't think deeply enough about how to set up the sequel. I basically spent most of my time making sure my historical research was on target - and I forgot to give the same attention to the rest of the book.

I was a writer with a measure of raw talent, but without the technical skills to make the story as effective as it could have been.

Now as I cluck and wince over this manuscript, it makes me wonder what readers and awards committees saw in it! LOL I can only conclude that my love and passion for the time period, the characters, and the setting somehow found its way through the obvious mistakes. I poured my heart and soul into this story, and it must have showed.

It also proves to me that no matter how good you think a story you've written is, there is always, always room for improvement. I've learned that for the good of the story, absolutely nothing about your writing can be sacred or set in stone. You must be willing to be ruthless in your quest to improve and hone your craft. If you allow yourself to relinquish control to that degree, you leave the door open for wonderful things to happen.

I feel blessed and grateful that Samhain set Lindsey McGurk the task of guiding me to make this story the absolute best it can be - based on my skills at this time in my life. How many authors get a chance to do that?

I know she thinks I'm saying that so she won't be so mean to me next time. But I have no illusions. She is already limbering up her whip to stand over me until I've turned in the sequel, which I'm sure she will dissect with the same diabolical cheer with which she deconstructed Beaudry.

Lindsey, darling... bring it on.

Thirteen Lines From Beaudry's Ghost

Thirteen lines from my upcoming paranormal romance novel, BEAUDRY'S GHOST. Enjoy!

1. “And they say the ghost of Union soldier Jared Beaudry rides the coast of the Outer Banks to this very day, looking for his lost arm, leg, and head.”

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2. “I’ve heard that it helps if you have full cooperation. But, failing that, it can be done. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”

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3. “Whoever got you in the shape you’re in, I hope she was worth it, Billy.”

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4. “So,” she said companionably as she worked. “This is your first re-enactment?”

A long pause. “Not… exactly.”

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5. “If that was a love tap, Leon, remind me to stay out of your way when you get really pissed off."

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6. If this woman was a key to regaining his honor, God help him, it was one key he was going to turn.

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7. “Ye’re just beggin’ fer a firin’ squad, ain’t you boy?” he growled. “Ain’t nobody in my platoon as troublesome as you.”

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8. “If you hurt one hair on any of these men’s heads, Harris can watch while I take you apart myself.”

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9. “Damn. You’re lucky he didn’t slice your head off.”

“I doubt he’d do that. It’s his head."

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10. “What?”

“Nothing. Just don’t look down”

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11. She sniffed delicately. “Even if the water does pass right through, anything is bound to be an improvement.”

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12. "I’m willing to bet this is a first for any of you people."

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13. "Oh, lord, Miss Taylor, don’t look at me like that."

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