Easter Blog Hop Tour: Inspirations for Windswept Shores

Hello.

My name is Janice Seagraves.

If you were looking for the Easter blog hop tour then you’ve come to the right place.

***Leave a comment with your email for a chance to win a free download of my depute book, Windswept Shores.***

In my book, Windswept Shores, I used a deserted island in the Bahamas to set the scene for my couple. I did a lot of research to describe it accurately. The island and the weather itself became almost a secondary character.

As for the rest of their adventures, I relied heavily on my own background to fill it in.

You see my dad loved to fish.

I mean he really loved to fish. This photo was taken back in the day when there was no limit on fish caught in a lake.

I think these fish were caught in ExchequerCA.

The little girl in this photo is me, admiring my dad’s catch (I loved my daddy).

My dad fished all year round. But Easter week was the time for our little family to go on the first camping trip of the year.

On the Friday, the last day of school before Easter break, dad and mom would load up our car or truck (if we had one that year) and he’d hook up his boat (dad always had a fishing boat ), then dad would take us all camping.

We never knew where he’d take us. It could be someplace new or maybe an old favorite like Don Pedro Lake, but wherever it was it would be a place where he’d probably heard the fishing was really good. He’d also talked to fishermen to find out what the fish were hitting that season, since it did seem to change from year to year or season to season.

Dad's lure

Dad also made his own lures, but he didn’t limit himself to their use. He had a big tackle box full of lures and, well, tackle. He also raised red worms and at one time he raised minnows too.

My dad caught so many fish that my mom, in self-defense, had to learn to cook them and got really good at fish frying . We ate so much fish that I thought I’d grow gills, lol.

Most of Windswept Shores revolves around my hero and heroine basically camping out on the beach. Which I got from my dad taking us camping and we camp along the shores of various lakes as I grew up. I was nearly born at a lake. My mom was very late in her pregnancy with me when he wanted to go fish and camping. My mom said no, but my dad was persistent. Luckily my mom won that argument.

My father’s gone now, he passed away in 1982 from colon cancer. I still miss him, but as a salute to my dad, I made, Seth, the Aussie hero in my story to be something of a fisherman. He’s also the first mate on the Dinki-Di before it got reefed.

BTW, dinki-di means true blue, as in my dad was a true blue fisherman, and my dad’s favorite color was blue. :)

Excerpt:

Seth gestured to the boat. “I’ll prop the boat up a bit, then I’ll do it there. She’s got all the comforts of home on-board her. Even a generator so we can have the electrical going.”

“She?” Megan blinked up at him. “You’re referring to the boat as a female?”

“All boats are sheilas,” he told her. “That one there is the Dinki-Di.”

“Isn’t that an Aussie term?” she asked, wrinkling up her brow.

“It means ‘true blue.’”

“Oh-okay.” Every time I think I get a handle on his slang, he throws me a new one. Her gaze went to the white boat which had just a little light-blue on the trim. “True blue, but it’s not even blue?”

“It’s just an expression, luv. Like I’m a dinki-di, Aussie,” he said, pointing to himself.

“Okay, so it means the real deal?”

“That it does, mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I also gave Seth my dad’s dimples and my mom’s gray eyes. Mom is still with us though. :)

Excerpt, when Megan meets Seth:

She patted the side of his face. “Hey, are you okay?” That’s a dumb question. He isn’t okay.

“Hmm?” Gray eyes fluttered open. He stared at her a long moment, frowning slightly. “G’day.”

“Hello there.” She hated the sound of her voice. It sounded rusty, unused.

Abruptly he rolled away from her to heave onto the sand, making a loud, ugly retching noise.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at her. “Sorry, mate, I swallowed too much sea.” His gaze went over her shoulder in the direction of the bonfire which crackled and popped not far from them. “Mite big for a barbie.”

Sitting back on her heels with her hands folded in her lap, Megan followed his gaze, then back to him. “My signal fire.”

“Signal for what?”

“Help.”

His accent intrigued her. Was he English or Australian?

“G’darn,” he looked around, “where the bloody hell am I?”

“Don’t know. There’s no one here to ask.” Megan shrugged helplessly, but couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Are you from England?”

“Naw,” he rubbed his eyes, “I hail from Sidney, but my port of call these days is Fort Lauderdale.” He blinked up at her. “You?”

Ah, he’s an Aussie. “I’m Megan Lorry, from Anaheim, California,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the surf and the roar from the fire. “Are you a survivor of Air Bahamas flight 227, too?”

“G’day, Megz,” he answered, struggling to sit-up. “Sorry, I’m not from your plane.”

Megan slipped an arm around him lifting his back off the sand. Turning his head to her hair, he took in a couple of short breaths. Megan pulled back staring at him. “What the—did you just sniff me?”

“Ya smell too good not to.” He grinned, causing his cheeks to dimple. “Name’s Seth Dawson.” Leaning back on one arm, he stretched out his hand to her. She clasped it as if it was just a friendly greeting between strangers back home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Here’s an excerpt just after Seth caught a fish:

Megan wrapped her arms around his neck. Their gazes met, turning intense. She felt like she could drown in his warm gray eyes. He leaned in and pressed his full lips against hers. The kiss tingled, going right through her, making something lower down tighten and beg for attention.

He pulled back. “Miss me?”

Speechless, Megan nodded.

He set her down. “Look what I caught for our tea.” He threw open a built-in chest, pointing to a two foot long fish. “It’s called a Tarpon. They get a mite bigger. This one’s an ankle biter. Can you get a good fire going so we can barbie this wee fishy?”

“Sure, I can try, but the weather isn’t cooperating very much.”

“Do what ya can, then we’ll eat onboard the Dinki-Di.” He tossed her a lighter.

She caught it. “Okay, but I’ll need a boost to get back up.” She pointed to her campsite.

Scooping her up, he gave her a toss. Megan landed neatly on her feet next to the tree.

Giving him a startled glance over her shoulder, she said, “Are you going to do anymore amazing feats today, Mr. Seth?”

“I’m saving ‘em for later.” He smirked. “And it’s Mr. Dawson.”

“There isn’t anything dull about you,” Megan said without thought.

“Don’t say that yet, luv. It takes away from the expectations.”

“Expectations of what?”

“Show ya later.” He grinned devilishly, showing every tooth in his head.

“I had to open my big mouth,” she muttered. He’s back to flirting. But she found she had missed that, too.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

***Don’t forget to leave a comment with your email for a chance to win a free download of my depute book, Windswept Shores. The winning announcement will be held on April 9, 2012***

Find Windswept Shores at Pink Petal books: http://pinkpetalbooks.com/Windswept-Shores-Janice-Seagraves.html

Windswept Shores for the kindlehttp://www.amazon.com/Windswept-Shores-ebook/dp/B003URROMW

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Field Trip: to Hunting Lake

The last field trip I got distracted by water, but on this trip I got distracted by snow.

I hadn’t been to the snow in years.

I was rather gleeful to finally see snow. I wanted to dig my hand into it.

This is Shaver Lake.

From Wikipedia: Shaver Lake is an artificial lake on Stevenson Creek, in the Sierra National Forest of Fresno County, California. At elevation 5,500 ft (1,700 m), several smaller streams also flow into the lake and receives water from the underground tunnels of Southern California Edison’s Big Creekhydroelectric project.[1] The town Shaver Lake is located on its south-west shore.
Here’s my husband saying, “I’m freezing!”

This is me, imagining where my alien compound will be.

You see a bit of Shaver Lake in this photo. The water level is still really low because they were working on the dam.

Lovely view of a snowy hill though. Parents were taking their kids here to slid down the snow.

A better shot of the snowy hill.

I might use this shot for a Christmas card.

Here’s my husband again. He’s pretending his hand is caught in the crack.

Don’t worry, he’s okay.

This is me again with that same boulder behind me.

Hubby takes one last look at the lake before we leave.

Took this photo on the way up to Huntington Lake.

Snow on top of the mountain.

Hubby pulled over so I could take this photo.

More snow.

Believe it or not–this is a creek.

It’s just buried under snow.

At last we made it to Huntington Lake

I posted this one larger so you can see the ice sheet over the lake.

Amazing isn’t it?

This is the snow covered mountain behind us as we stood looking at the lake.

Dock at Huntington Lake.

Here we turned around and headed back home.

With all the snow and ice we were afraid we’d hit a patch of black ice and slid right off the road.

I like this cabin. I think I’ll have it in one of my Arcon Alien Stories.

This is how high the snow was along the side of the road.

We noticed this mountain on the way back down. This photo was taken from the car. The little droplets are water on our windshield.

I’m not sure if you can see it or not, but there are grooves in the snow from skiers.

I hope you enjoyed my field trip.

The infromation that I gathered from this trip will be in my Arcon alien stories or Exodus Arcon Series, which will be a SF romance series that I hope to launch sometime this year.

For more information on my Arcons, check out my free read.