Indie Book of the day award winner

I'm very happy to announce that my book Armed and Outrageous is a book of the day award winner at indiebookoftheday.com The challenge is to find websites that you can promote your book and this is one of the up and comings. I'm very honored for my book to be picked. They don't just slap it up on any ole book there are requirements involved for one it must be an indie book! Cool to know there are places that support and help indie writers.

Thanks ~ Madison

I'm bringing sexy back

If you have read Armed and Outrageous you might have noticed I like to write sexual undertones. This is not intentional, it's just what comes out. It's those subtle hints that mean more than coming right out and saying it. No slag against erotica writers. I have written erotica before, I just don't think I'm that good at it. Plus, I'm not swaying in that direction just yet. 


I do believe there is a time and place for everything. I try and make an awkward as possible scene when it comes to the opposite sex. I don't believe in love at first sight, maybe lust at first sight, lol. I don't believe in soul mates either, but again, that's just me. When I read a book, I take it at face value. As a writer, we need to make readers believe the world in which we create is real.


I try and be clear cut as possible. I want the reader to feel like they are right there with my characters. I want them to hear them speak, feel the emotions they feel. Isn't that what it's about, writing something that makes the reader feel something? I hope you enjoyed the picture I thought it was cute.


Check out Armed and Outrageous on Amazon, Smashwords, or Barnes and Noble, and find out first hand that sexy is indeed back and has no age barrier. 

Six Days to Zombification

Image by the artist formally known as Nick Rose who is now known as Nixon Johns. 

Day one: A random stranger approaches you and bites your arm, and looking at it later, it doesn't look bad at all.

Day two: Your arm begins to throb and you pour peroxide on the wound believing it will work. Who needs a doctor, not me, right?

Day three: Your wound is beginning to fester and you wrap extra gauze on it before work. You hold it all day and a coworker notices while you're in the restroom. 

"Hey dude, what's wrong with your arm?"

"I was bitten in the park yesterday."

"Our park? You can't be serious, you went, there?" 


You show him your festering, pungent wound, and he begins backing away from you. "Dude you been ZOmbified."

"What in the hell??" You begin panting like some kind of lost puppy that ran for hours. 


"Is there anything I can do? I mean come on dude, help me out here - I don't want to be a zombie. I have nearly twenty thousand in my 401 for Christ's sake, and Betty told me she's ready."

"I heard someone found a cure, but. . . I don't think you want to do that."

"Tell me what it is, I'm desperate here." You begin shaking you co-worker for emphasis.

"Dude you need to cut your arm off."

Walking away in disgust, you take the rest of the day off.

Day four: You search around your house for a knife, deciding instead to buy a hatchet. You'd use an ax, but how in the hell can you swing it hard enough and your doctor refused to do the deed. 

Day five: You can barely stand the pain and it can't hurt more than it does now! Slapping your palm down on your picnic table, you brace and swing the hatchet downward - totally missing you arm altogether. You swing two more times before you finally hit your arm, and although painful, you continue to whack at your arm until it lies on the table in a bloody mass. You smile, wrapping up your stump and go inside and watch television.

Day six: You stumble into work, even though you have a barely concealed stump where you arm once was. Looking into the mirror, you notice just who is looking back. You have black circles surrounding your eyes, and your lips have pulled back from you face. F*ck, you'll never score with Betty now, although you may eat her later. One thought comes to mind, and going back into the office you eat your coworker that ever suggested you cut your arm off in the first place!

WARNING: IF BITTEN BY A ZOMBIE, YOU CAN'T BE CURED, AND CHOPPING THE LIMB WILL NOT CURE YOU. "CONSIDER YOURSELF ZOMBIFIED."

My Dad

I wanted to share a few antidotes about my dad.

I didn't learn to cuss like a sailor at school, I learned it from my dad! He couldn't assemble anything without swearing. Tools were also thrown at some point, lol.

He may look frail now, but he could whip his belt off his waist like nobody's business. I was whipped so much I thought my rear end was a whipping post. 


My dad always took us to search for the perfect Christmas tree at tree farms every December, like everyone in the state of Michigan. 


He always took us fishing. He'd stop at every fishing hole on the way to and from Tawas, MI. We went to Augres, MI, where you basically had to sit on rocks to fish. It was fun, at least I didn't have to worry about slipping through the cracks like at the dock in Tawas. I'm not sure how I'd slip through a crack, but when you're a kid you always believe at any moment something bad will happen to you.


My dad redefined child labor, we spent the every weekend in the woods. He cut the trees down and we were always on hand to carry it anywhere he wanted. He made a handy wood shoot so we could get in into the basement. I think us kids worked out our aggressions on each other for the most part.


When my dad took us to McDonald's, he'd order enough hamburgers so that we each had three, my mom always got a filet-o-fish.


My dad once gave us (I have two brothers), all a spanking because we argued on a holiday.


He worked second shift at a GM plant in Saginaw, MI.


My dad once took us to Sea World (back then it was in Ohio), and Cedar Point on the same vacation.


We went to visit my brother in Louisiana on vacation, and at the age of eighteen, I visited New Orleans.


My dad insisted on planting a huge garden, green beans were his favorite. Us kids had to pick the dang things the whole summer. They never quit growing! We literally filled five gallon buckets with them and had to take of the ends off. We hated this, and one time my dad got my younger brother Jimmy up at midnight because he didn't pick over his share.


My dad loved to whistle at other women when we were all in the car. Can you say awkward moment?


He insisted we drink milk at every meal. I now know why I don't drink any.


I never left the table until I ate everything on my plate or at least until I could get my brothers to eat it or learn a creative way to hide it in my napkin. I pretty much sat for hours.


My dad would make popcorn from the pan and fill half a brown grocery bag to take to the movies.


We went to the drive-in movies a lot. Monster movies were all the rage back in those days.


On our birthday, we always were treated to a restaurant and a movie. My dad was that awesome.


My dad took us to Tawas and we went camping at the park, we slept in a tent. We woke up at five a.m. to fish, apparently the fish wake up kinda early. One time there was a thunderstorm and the tent blew down on us. Good memories.


My dad knew all the best places to eat, buffets were another of his go to places. Yes, that includes Pizza Hut.


My dad loved to tickle me and always had me scratch his back.


No way was we going near the remote control, we watched whatever shows my dad wanted to watch.


Overall I have the best dad in the world. We never see eye-to-eye on many subjects, but I love him and I'm glad to have so many good memories.

Sample Sunday ~ Redneck Romance

Redneck Romance is my first try at straight romance. Please give me feedback on what you think about my opening chapter. Thanks. :)

I played with the knob of my car radio, trying to get in something besides religious sermons. Sure this is the bible belt, but really, I'm not that much of a holy roller. I had plenty of Lady Gaga on my IPod, but the battery died days ago, and I never really got around to recharging it. I'm not what you'd call a detail oriented girl.

When I looked up, I was barreling down on a wide-eyed hiker. I yanked my steering wheel sharply to the right, barely missing a him. I looked in my mirror in time to catch his appreciation. He flipped me two birds, and I cringed when I saw the contents of his backpack scatter across the road. Can’t blame the fellow really, I did practically run him down like a dog.

My eyes shifted toward the scenery, nothing but trees for miles and miles. At least the road was paved, otherwise, I would have felt completely lost. The trees were quite lovely with all the orange, red, and yellow leaves. I passed an occasional hiker, but they became few and far in between. I should try not to kill the next one I pass. Not that I had tried to run down a hiker on purpose. 

My cell vibrated in the pocket of my jeans, and I wiggled it out without managing to move out of lane and answered it.

"Hello."

"Kelly, if this is some kind of joke or prank to get back at me for not spoiling you more as I child, I don't appreciate it."

"Mom what are you talking about?" 

"I have a whole shindig planned for my birthday, and you aren't even going to be here."

Always the same guilt trip. 

"Mom I told you, I was going out of town if you listened."

"This from the woman that spent the last six months at my house whining about her ex." She sighed into the phone. "I hope you're not getting back with him."

"No, I have an assignment to take fall pictures."

"Where?"

I really didn't want to answer. "In North Carolina." 

"Please tell me it's not in the wilderness area you were talking about."

I almost cringed when she spoke, "Mom."

"Kelly Gray, I didn't bring you into this world so you can be murdered in the woods or worse."

I felt the urge to pound my head against my steering wheel. "I can take care of myself." Yeah right, if I don't get lost that is.

She laughed. "Do you even know where you are?"

Damn woman knew me too much. "Yes, I'm .... " I rustled the map on the passenger seat. 

"Your lost again, don't try to cover it up."

She continued to ramble on, and I shut my ears to her words. Although, she had a point, but I'd never admit it, not out loud.

"Mom, are you still there?" I pounded my cell on the dash. "I can't hear a word you're saying. I think the phone battery is dead."

"Don't you dare h-h-hang u-up."

I pushed the power button. I know I'm going to hell for cutting her off, but I hoped the man upstairs understood. I love my mom, but she's a bit clingy at times. Maybe I was whining a tad about my ex, but I thought a girl could tell her mom anything. Not my mom though, she much preferred to throw it in my face. Lesson learned.

Guest Post ~ Nikki Noffsinger

The Reason I Love To Write and the Stories I Love To Tell

I am often asked, “Why do you like to write?”  The answer is always the same; I started out with a great love of books. Books gave me places and adventures to go and were the catalyst for my imagination. I fell in love with books and when I was about seven or eight when I wrote my first little story in the backseat of the maroon Oldsmobile on the way to Kentucky. It was a little story about me and my cousin Karen, who I would soon be meeting for the first time and we were mermaids that lived in a hotel swimming pool. I’m sure it wasn’t quite that fine tuned but that was the gist of it. I began to write all sorts of little things and as I got older I began to write longer stories and more poems.

I never really did show my writings to anyone outside of if I wrote letters to the public letterbox of the local paper voicing my opinions or to the school paper. I dreamed often of being an author or journalist but my own fears and insecurities kept me from sharing my stories and poems with more than just me, a few teachers, and only a select few friends. It wouldn’t be until I was 35 years old that I would not only write but submit a manuscript. It wouldn’t be until my publishing nightmare with a vanity press, Publish America, that it would lead me to my friend and mentor, Denyse Bridger who would introduce me to XoXo Publishing’s Penny Adams and Gina Cianfarnai who have been an active part in the publishing of my first solo E-book project, Cursed Awakening. Unlike my novel that was published through the vanity press, I got someone to help me through the editing process, someone to format the book in E-book format, and a wonderful cover that meet all my expectations that was done by Kayden Mcleod; who has a digital art business with her husband Trent Kingsley as well as being an accomplished author. So I have been given the red carpet treatment that they give to all their authors.  I’m really fortunate and proud to be working with all of them!

Another question I am asked, “Why do you write about vampires and scary things?” I guess it throws people off to know I was raised in a very Christian home and I don’t seem the “type” to be a scribe of the macabre. The answer is quite easy; I grew up loving horror movies. My grandpa and I used to watch Sammy Terry on the local channels here in Indiana and my mother was a huge scary movie fan. I grew up loving all those great B movies and 80s horror flicks. I loved Stephen King, Clive Barker, Wes Craven, and Dean Koontz whose stories were made into either movies or television specials that made it hard to sleep afterwards. I stayed weekends at my mother’s house and she and I would stay up to watch shows like “The Hitchhiker”, “Tales From The Crypt”, and “Freddy’s Nightmares”, and countless others. My favorite horror movie villans were always the vampires. I blame the 1975 version of “Dracula” with Frank Langella and the 80s cult classic, “Lost Boys” for that. I also had a great love of fantasy books as well. I loved the Brothers Grimm, and one of my favorite books from childhood is the Book of Fairy Tales I received as a young child from my Grandma Betty. I also and it is a love I still have to this very day is I still love the animated film and cartoons. Aside from the myriad of Saturday morning cartoons, animated films like: The Last Unicorn, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, Warriors of the Wind, The Wind in the Willows, and Unico were just some that fed my jones for fantasy. 

I do not limit myself to one genre; I have stories from most of them running in my head. Just about everything sparks inspiration with me. I love history especially European as well as Early American history and I love to read books both fiction and non fiction of those periods. I love to use actual historical references in my stories as well as write historical fiction. I also love to write paranormal romance fiction because I get to play with a wide range of characters. My goals are simple, I want to share what I write and have people love it. I look at writers such as Denyse Bridger, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Lynsay Sands, Kerrilyn Sparks, and so many more that started just like me-with nothing more than a love of the written word and a passion to write!

Cursed Awakening by Nikki Noffsinger

Ivy Morgan has re-invented herself and is looking forward to the future for the first time, in a very long time. Since fleeing for her life from an overzealous religious cult, she is able to be a modern woman that is gaining her independence; so taking up with a sexy stranger named Nyx is the last thing she needs. Or, is it?

Nyx Wahpeton can’t stop thinking about the young woman he’s met. It couldn’t have come at the worse possible time with the clans meeting and his family wrapped up in a centuries old war that’s nothing short of what horror movies are made from. He’s been a protector of his people and those that reside at the Reservation. There’s betrayal and evil at his front door; but, in his heart he knows Ivy is the one for him. She’s surrounded by secrets that he’s vowed to unlock, as well as her heart. However, can he keep her safe from his own secrets?

Buy Links

Amazon  
XOXO Publishing

Nikki's Bio

Nikki Noffsinger, 37 mother of two, lives in Marion, Indiana, fourteen miles from the birthplace/hometown of James Dean. She grew up in a Christian home and was raised by her grandparents and made enough family trips to London and Manchester, Kentucky, to be considered an honorary hillbilly. Aside from her great love of books and writing; she enjoy baking/cooking, music, art in its many forms, travel, many outdoor activities, and has a great love affair with theme parks especially the thrill rides. Nikki's favorite authors range from Tomie de Paola and Maurice Sendak to classic literature to Sherrilyn Kenyon, Kerrilyn Sparks, Lynsay Sands, and many others. She loves both non-fiction and fiction, but her favorite genre is paranormal romance.

Nikki's blog

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Memorial Day Tribute

I don't know if you will believe me or not, but I was on the subway last night and something strange happened. I can't tell you what city or country, looking back now, I hardly remember myself.

I took the subway that day, I'm still not sure why. I hate riding the subway, hated having to crawl down to the underbelly of the city to ride in some graffiti metal tube. It just has never appealed to me. Plus, I'm afraid of my own shadow or it could be all the stories my mother often filled my head with growing up. "Be careful, go in groups, bad things can happen to girls who ride alone on subways," she'd so often tell me.

I sat with my back pressed against the wall of the subway, hoping against all odds that nobody would climb aboard. I was alone, and I liked it that way, preferred it.

When the subway came to a screeching halt, the doors slide open, and a man stepped inside. He was tall, six feet at least, maybe taller. His brown hair stood up in many directions, his body cloaked with an olive drab battle dress uniform; a garrison cap clung tightly in his left hand, and in his right hand, he held a strap from a canvas duffel bag—the same color as his uniform. It appeared heavy as he wobbled to the seat directly across from me.

Dark discoloration encircled his eyes, and he avoided my curious stare. Was he just now coming home from the front lines? I imagined him tired and weary from his long journey home, and I wondered, why hadn't he arrived before now? One lone tear trickled down his gray, gaunt face and splashed to his lap. I stared intently at the wet spot it created, and I felt the urge to offer him a tissue. I suppressed it though, and at that moment, the subway came to a stop and he rose and exited while I watched in awe.

Don't forget the men and women that gave their lives so we can continue to live in peace.

As for my soldier, he is still making his way home. If you spot him let him continue on his way, the journey is long, and I know one day he will make it home.

Reviews

This is a review that isn't posted on Amazon, although she gave my book a 5 star on Goodreads.




Superb! ---Action packed humor leaps off every page. You will laugh until your sides hurt. Author Madison Johns, Armed and Outrageous is a wittingly funny tale of two elderly best friends Agnes and Eleanor who in a quant Michigan town investigate the whereabouts of a missing woman. Are they smarter than the authorities are? Can they pull this off while bickering over dentures, arthritis, and varicose veins? This is a story you do not want to pass up. It is fantastic--- Diabolic entertaining at its best!

Karen Vance Hammond, author of Shoe Marks, a paranormal inspired by true events that took place in Texas.

Sample Monday

While it was with some discourse that any man or woman alive would know the true identity of Inspector Simon Woodbury, it was inevitable that it would happen. It was an otherwise uneventful day April 1889 that a man known to me only as Professor Walker, who was a scientist according to the ministry files, appeared in my room that day. His very presence was unexpected and unwelcomed, but I doubt he cared.  It had occurred to me later, he had been following me for quite some time. How long it was unclear.

Whereas I, Catherine Woodbury, stand a mere five feet, the good professor towered above me by nearly a foot. At the time, I feigned a fit of the vapors, but Edward scooped me up in an instant pressing me to the bed. His long, hard body pressed to mine. 

Softly he whispered into my ear. "I know who you are."

Mom Myths

I thought I'd blog about something different for a change. I'm calling it mom myths.


Motherhood isn't what I thought it to be until I became a mom. The strange part is that you don't need a license nor are you required to take a parenting course—they just let you take the baby home, without even an instructional book???


I wasn't the type of girl that loved to hold other people's babies. I rarely babysat anyone's kids, but they gave me this wiggling squirming baby that I had no idea what to do with. 


In my case, my daughter was in neonatal for ten days because she swallowed meconium during delivery which is basically fecal matter. She had to have surgery, and they put in a bunch of tubes. She was also put on a respirator. Try that on for size for a new mom. I was past overwhelmed. She did get better and pulled out her own respirator, and was fine in ten days. I can recall the nurse asking me what colic was, but I don't remember much else, maybe she explained it to me or maybe she didn't. I was still in a trance over being a new mom with a sick baby, even though I had never smoked a cigarette. I even drank milk and took my vitamins. 


As a way to look at motherhood in a humorous way I thought I'd hand out my own wisdom on the subject.


Mom Myths:


Sometimes the baby doesn't quit crying even though you rock him or her until you create a hole through the floor.


Sometimes babies don't just burp, they spit up all their formula all over you.


Having urine squirted in your eye is never amusing.


Don't expect your baby's father to get up in the middle of night to give the baby a bottle.


For some reason you can sleep through your alarm clock going off, but you can hear your baby cry a half a mile away.


When your baby smiles sometimes it's gas, but sometimes they are really smiles.


It's perfectly normal to want to throw the baby in a trash can, but don't do it!


I don't recommend feeding a baby prunes unless you want a catastrophe at a public place. 


Terrible twos hit way before two and last much longer.


Even after baby proofing your house, there is still something the kids will manage to get into.


Having all your pots, pans, and entire tupperware collection spread all over the kitchen floor is only cute the first time.


Oops, I knew I should have bought refrigerator locks.


Potty training you child by age one is laughable. You'll  be lucky if they are potty trained by preschool age.


Men's idea of teaching your son to pee outside isn't so cute at a family reunion.


Temper tantrums happen.


Cute words kids pick up aren't so cute when your child screams "Boobies" all over Walmart.


Children don't always tell the truth. (Who thought that one up?)


Listening to advice about child rearing from anyone is useless. It's more of a fly by the seat of you pants kinda thing.


The older the child, the less you'll know what's really going on.


You're always the last person to know about anything.


If you think your child is going to actually hand over their report card to you ... again laughable.


New excuses are invented daily.


It's never their fault.


You're just being mean is really a compliment.


When your thirteen year old daughter says she doesn't like boys yet don't believe her!


Smiles :)