tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5724662674264332332024-03-05T12:19:48.510-08:00Under the SkinThe fifth Elizabeth Goodweather novelVicki Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08114677510459055768noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572466267426433233.post-71999710732635393352011-08-01T00:04:00.000-07:002012-01-23T11:36:16.102-08:00At Last!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><b>In this haunting tale from the heart of Appalachia, Vicki Lane draws together past and present, good and evil, folklore and secrets, mesmerizing readers with the mysterious bond of true sisterhood—richer than blood, stronger than the passage of time.</b><br />
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Elizabeth Goodweather and her city-girl sister, Gloria, couldn’t be more different. Elizabeth lives on a farm in the Great Smoky Mountains. Gloria lives in Florida off an ex-husband’s fortune. Gloria is a beauty; Elizabeth isn’t. Now, to Elizabeth’s intense displeasure, Gloria parks herself at Full Circle Farm, on the run from her latest man, who, she insists, is trying to kill her. Elizabeth thinks this is just another of her sister’s fantasies. Besides, Elizabeth has her wedding to plan—if only she can overcome her fear that the man who already shares her life may not be what he appears to be. At this precarious crossroads, the sisters must turn to each other—or face a lifetime of consequences. </div></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 50% transparent; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><br />
<div id="refHTML"></div>Vicki Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08114677510459055768noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-572466267426433233.post-57002013134721409812011-04-30T08:59:00.000-07:002011-06-20T09:36:06.225-07:00Coming October 18 (New, earlier date!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKaLLEdrtsLklx8Kxn1u3OPlULvxWdmZ8hMPnfp2ciYGLkClBa2rWt1NJYIftg51LHHnruUEHcbqDuO1ql31yp-xl3MZqUOUOlANVXIc5RtzykO-eaYPv48zcHlOhM6KJJHkit_X0vtHf/s1600/Under+the+skinLane_UnderSkin_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKaLLEdrtsLklx8Kxn1u3OPlULvxWdmZ8hMPnfp2ciYGLkClBa2rWt1NJYIftg51LHHnruUEHcbqDuO1ql31yp-xl3MZqUOUOlANVXIc5RtzykO-eaYPv48zcHlOhM6KJJHkit_X0vtHf/s400/Under+the+skinLane_UnderSkin_1.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Under the Skin </b></span></i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">(available for preorder now) will be out October 18. Over in the sidebar is a list of places I'll be reading and signing -- there may be more to come. </span><br />
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<strike><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And that's the cover up there -- more or less. There'll be a different quote -- that one's just a place holder. </span></strike><br />
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</strike></div><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">WAIT A MINUTE! There have been some</span></b> <b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">exciting changes. Random House has decided to release UNDER THE SKIN as a trade paperback -- the larger, nicer format. It will be out October 18, not 25. and there will be a different cover. At the moment (6/20) you can only preorder the ebook version on line but that should change very soon.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">One other thing. Notice how they call it "A Full Circle Farm Mystery?" Don't be confused; it's still an Elizabeth Goodweather mystery -- Marketing just liked the sound of this better. (I don't but Marketing doesn't care.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here's a taste of the beginning:</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double. ~Toni Morrison</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at. ~Maya Angelou</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"> Chapter 1 ~ A Complicated Person </span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">“I should have known Gloria would come up with something like this right before our wedding. It’s just like her. I swear, she’s . . .” </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> . . . <i>crazy as the proverbial shithouse rat </i>were the words on the tip of my tongue but I bit them back.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> Without looking up from the paperback he was reading, Phillip made a questioning sort of sound. “Hmm? . . . What was that, Lizabeth? Gloria’s what?”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> I dropped the phone onto the table and glowered at it as if it were responsible for this new and unwelcome twist in my life. “She’s . . . complicated,”<i> </i>I hedged, rejecting the coarse country phrase, apt though it might be. “Complicated’ – which is a polite way of saying I don’t understand her at all. She must be-”<i> </i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> I couldn’t go on. But the voice in my head, never at a loss for words, finished the sentence for me,<i> She must be out of her rabbit-ass mind, as Ben would say.</i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> I stood there glaring at the innocent telephone. <i>It’s not FAIR! </i>I wanted to shout, in a whining echo from my childhood. <i>Glory always messes </i>everything<i> up! </i> I wanted to throw something, to stamp my foot, to fling myself to the floor and have a screaming, kicking tantrum. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> Instead, I made a strenuous effort to sound composed and adult as I tried to explain things to the back of Phillip’s head. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">“It’s just that with all the farm work right now, not to mention getting things ready for the wedding next month, this isn’t exactly a good time for <i>anyone</i> to come for an open-ended visit, especially Gloria . . . she’s so bloody high maintenance.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> All the old feelings were just below the surface: bitterness, guilt, annoyance, a touch of envy, and guilt again – an evil stew of emotion ready to break into a full boil. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="line-height: 200%;">Not attractive, Elizabeth, </span></i><span style="line-height: 200%;">I warned that nasty inner child who was still quivering with righteous indignation. <i>Aren’t you about forty years too old for this kind of adolescent reaction to your only sister . . . your only sibling?</i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">I took a deep breath, forcing myself into the mind set of rationality and general benevolence that I like to pretend comes naturally. Usually, it does. But now . . . oh, why the <i>hell </i>does my sister always bring out the worst in me? </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">Two more deep breaths and I was able to say, “On the other hand, if things are so bad between Gloria and her husband . . .” </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">I was thinking out loud now, trying to make sense of the just-ended conversation and trying also to ignore the tag-line from Tennyson that was running through my head – “‘The curse is come upon me,’ cried the Lady of Shallot.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 1in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">. “ . . . if it’s so bad that she’s actually contemplating staying <i>here</i> for a month or longer, what can I do? And things must be seriously awful. Glory hates it here at the farm – ‘too much <i>Nature,’</i> she always says, as if Nature was something you wouldn’t want to step in.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> Phillip, comfortable on the sofa with a dog on either side of him, his sock feet up on the old cedar chest that serves as a coffee table, finally looked up from his after-supper book with that calm, amused expression he’s so good at. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> “This guy – he’s what – your sister’s third husband? So problems with married life aren’t entirely new to her. What’s the big deal this time?” </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> He wouldn’t be so calm and amused if he had any idea of what Glory’s like, I thought, wondering if this could be some elaborate joke of hers. But the thing is – my sister has no sense of humor. None. Never has.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"> “Well,” I told him, thinking at the same time that, after all his patient courtship, Phillip deserved better than this, “according to Gloria, the problem is that Jerry’s trying to kill her.”</span></span></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Vicki Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08114677510459055768noreply@blogger.com8