What's in a Name?

By Michelle Pickett (Guest Author)

Since becoming published there's been one question I've heard over and over: Where'd you get that name? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when people ask me what Concilium means, or Cruor Imbibo. They aren't names that top the cutest baby name charts.

Concilium is Latin for "Council." The council is a group of beings in the book that act as guardians. Their main objective is to keep the Imbibo under control before they slaughter humankind. When I selected the name I knew I wanted a name that meant council and I knew I wanted it in a very old language. I played around with different variations on the word council and different languages before settling on Concilium. And the title of the manuscript was born.

The monsters were a little harder. I knew after I selected the title I needed to keep with my Latin origin for their name, but I wasn't sure what to name them. With the help of my husband and son we came up with a suitably gross name which translated into Cruor Imbibo. I refer to them in the book as the Imbibo. I'm not going to tell you what the name means. You'll have to read the book…or find a translation website and translate it yourself. But I suggest you read the book. It's more fun to find out their name in the context of the story.

When it comes to naming characters, the names usually just present themselves to me. For instance, I was trying to decide on a name for the hero. Nothing seemed to fit. Then one night I was watching a movie with my husband and one of the movie's main character's (last) name was Miller. I knew right away I had my hero's name. It just slid into place like a puzzle piece. Of course, the actor with the name Miller was Matt Damon and you can't really go wrong with him…moving on.

Then there are the names I use as a way of recognizing a person, place or thing. Generally only I know what they are, but sometimes other people, especially my family, will pick up on them. For example, in Concilium there is a character named Flynt. I grew up in Flint, Michigan. There is a character name Alex. My childhood dog's name was Alex. There is a person who really ticked me off one day, no, I'm not going to tell you his or her name, but they are killed off in Concilium's sequel. No one would probably make the connection between the person and the character (unless they are reading this), but I know it's there. So you can see how these things have a way being almost cathartic. On one hand I'm able to pay tribute to a person and on the other hand I'm able take out my revenge—if only on paper.

Sometimes I use names because of their meanings. My young adult paranormal manuscript I have on submission is a good example. The story centers on a teenaged girl who is half human and half angel. Muriel, her best friend and cousin, is also half angel. The name Muriel just happens to be a Judeo-Christian name for angel. Lilith is another character in the book who is half angel. She betrays the other angels and aligns herself with the demons. When you look up the meaning of the name Lilith you'll find that it is associated with a figure in Jewish mythology that is believed to be related to a class of female demons—the perfect name for an angel who joins forces with the devil.

PODs, my YA novel releasing June 4, 2013 through Spencer Hill Press, is an acronym. In the novel, "The Chosen" are sealed underground in the PODs while a lethal virus claims the lives of those living above. The name PODs stands for Populace Obliteration Defense system.

So what's in a name? Sometimes quite a lot. I like the names I use to mean something to me personally or to the story in general. In PODs the seventeen-year-old main character who is locked in the PODs is named Eva. It's a play on Eve since the world is dying and being reborn it needs a new Adam and Eve. In the book it has Eva.

Relating character names to the story or people, places or things makes the book and characters seem more alive to me.

Can you think of any characters whose names had a deeper meaning to the author or the story? What character/book was it?

Thank you, Lisabet, for hosting me on your blog today and letting me share a little about how I select my character's names. It was great fun being here and I hope to visit again. And, of course, my blog is always open to you. I'd love to have you visit. 

Blurb - Concilium by Michelle Pickett

Leslee hit a strange animal with her car. Now she’s marked for death.

It was a simple car accident – the animal didn’t even die – but it drew the attention of the Cruor Imbibo. Driven by their insatiable need to feed, the secret society of Imbibo has devoured the dregs of civilization for centuries. Afraid Leslee will expose them, and put an end to their meal ticket, the Imbibo want her dead.

The Concilium is Leslee's only protection. Guardian of the ancient secret and the protector of humans, the Concilium fights to control the Imbibo and end their feeding frenzy. Miller works for the Concilium.

Keeping Leslee alive is his next assignment.

Now Leslee is on the run, and the only thing between her flesh and the snapping jaws of the Imbibo is Miller. He and Leslee quickly form a bond, but will falling in love make Miller’s job more difficult?

Because if he fails, Leslee will be next on the Imbibo menu.

The Cruor Imbibo are coming, and they're coming for Leslee.

Excerpt

Tired of them talking as if I wasn’t there, I did what they wanted and went inside. I thought about locking Miller out. But I didn’t. It wasn’t because I wanted to spend the evening alone with him like we had spent that afternoon. It wasn’t...

Mostly.

I sank deep into the cushions of my couch and waited for them to finish their work. Grabbing the remote, I flipped on the television, surfing the channels. Nothing was on. More than two hundred channels on the stupid thing, and nothing worth watching. Irritated at the television, at Miller, at the whole situation, I hurled the remote against the door.

“Crap,” I muttered when it fell to the floor in pieces.

“I think you killed it,” I heard Miller say behind me.

My stomach did a little flip-flop, and I cursed it silently. “Yep, I certainly put it in its place. It won’t be talking back to me again. I wish I could do the same with you.”

His lips pursed into what almost looked like a grin. “You think you’re the one to put me in my place, Leslee? You, just a slip of a girl? I doubt it.”

“Don’t mock me, Miller. I meant that I’d like to throw you across the room,” I snapped. “I just might surprise you. And I’m not a ‘girl.’ Girls go shopping at the mall for flip-flops and lip gloss. And, for the last dang time, my name is Les!” I walked around him, my shoulder brushing slightly against his arm. As I caught the faintest whiff of his cologne, not only did my stomach do a flip-flop, but my whole insides swirled out of place.

What is it with this man?

I barely knew him. In fact, the only thing I did know was his first name. At least, I thought it was his first name. What was this thing I had going on? A schoolgirl crush? I was twenty-five, a little old for crushes. And besides, Miller wasn’t the type of man I was attracted to. I didn’t go for the mercenary, guns-and-ammo type. I enjoyed the company of well-read college graduates who had stable jobs and good heads on their shoulders. 

Holy crap, I sound like a snob! A stable man with a stable job. What a joke.

I secretly wanted the bad boy. What woman didn’t? Miller didn’t seem to have one stable thing about him. But he smelled so good and looked beyond gorgeous standing in my living room with his hair, mussed from running his fingers through it, falling over his forehead.

Yeah, I was doomed.

I trudged into the laundry room and grabbed a broom and dustpan. When I walked back to the living room, Miller was picking up pieces of the demolished remote.

“Don’t. It’s my mess, and I’ll clean it up,” I said harshly.

“Fine.” He dropped the pieces, and they clattered against the wood floor. “Suit yourself.” He walked over and eased himself down on the chair across from the couch. “And you’re right. You did sound like a snob, and you should find yourself a nice stable guy and have a nice stable life, with perfectly stable kids. Bad boys are called bad for a reason.”

I froze. “Stop it. How are you able to do that?”

“It’s a bad-boy thing.” He flipped on the television. “Sure wish I had a remote. I forgot how tedious it is to channel surf without one.”

*****

You can buy Concilium from MuseItUp Publishing or at Amazon. 

Want your copy of Concilium signed? I'd be happy to do that! Just go tohttp://www.kindlegraph.com/ and send me a message and I'll send you a personalized inscription for your copy of Concilium.

Bio: Michelle has been an avid reader since a young child. She began writing for personal enjoyment in college, where she graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in accounting. Deciding sitting in a cubical all day was her form of cruel and unusual punishment, she decided to do what she really wanted to—share her passion for reading and writing with others.

She wrote her debut novel Concilium in 2010. It was released July of 2012 by MuseItUp Publishing. The sequel, Concilium: The Departure will also be published by MuseItUp Publishing with scheduled release date of November 2012.

Her debut young adult novel, PODs, will be published by Spencer Hill Press and is scheduled for release in paperback June 4th, 2013.

Michelle was born and raised in Michigan. She now resides in a small community outside Houston, Texas with her incredibly supportive husband, four wonderful children, a 125-pound lap dog, a very grumpy cockatiel and a cat that thinks she's queen.

Michelle writes adult and young adult Sci/Fi and urban fantasy romance.

Website: www.Michelle-Pickett.com

Email: Michelle@Michelle-Pickett.com

Blog: www.Michelle-Pickett.com/blog

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/michellepickettauthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/michelle_kp

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/michelle-pickett 

Trailer: http://youtu.be/dxLvVQ9s7u4

Turning the Tables on History

By Wendy Laharnar (Guest Blogger)

The one subject I failed at school was History. This proved to be a huge mistake because now I am obsessed with it. I can’t get enough historical novels and research to fill that void. Novels by Antonia Fraser and Sharon Penman, for example, easily transport me to the time periods they write about. Imagining the people who went before makes me wonder how future historical novelists will portray us and how our history will impact on readers in the future.

While ‘studying’ the French Revolution at school, I wish I’d discovered Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities (1859) set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution, or Baroness Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel (1905) set during the Reign of Terror following the start of the French Revolution,. I would have been more able to understand the animosity of the populous against the nobility and form sympathies with parties on both sides. Maybe I wouldn’t have mixed up the National Convention and the National Assembly in the exam which, in spite of my ‘brilliant’ essay on the wrong one, earned me 0/20.

Historical novels and Shakespeare’s plays breathe life into History. There is a framework of circumstances already in place, but with the fictional characters and situations the author invents inside a community, relative to the times, the past is visible and has meaning. These novels educate and entertain me in a way history texts couldn’t do.

This obsession is probably why I write Historical Fiction, now. I haven’t tackled the French Revolution period yet. I prefer to stay in the Middle Ages for a while because I want to experience this era for myself. I never could grasp all those dates and battles and why they made homework assignments such a misery.

Since I can’t write realistic Romance, and I didn’t have the historical knowledge needed to be a person born into the medieval scene when I began writing The Unhewn Stone, I decided to turn the tables on history. I’d take my modern day Stefan, a disfigured innkeeper’s son, on a swashbuckling adventure by placing him inside the Wilhelm Tell Legend (Switzerland, 1307AD) and confine us to a small space in history, so I thought. Stefan would have ancestors who belonged to the wrong side, the tyrant’s side, the one Wilhelm Tell killed. As his main goal, I sent Stefan to prevent that legend from happening and save his ancestor’s life. That way, together, my hero and I could discover what life was really like back then, especially for an outsider, or tourist, in a time where Hospitality was paramount to an honourable man and peasants needed a Cause.

Researching the Tell Legend wasn’t difficult. There’s plenty of information about the hero Tell, and I read Schiller’s famous play. I gathered as much information as possible, not only from books but also from the Tell Museum in Bürglen, Switzerland, the birth place of Wilhelm Tell. While there, surrounded by the magnificent Swiss Alps, with my husband and granddaughters -- on two separate occasions -- I visited the relevant places around Lake Luzern, talking to the people, taking photos and soaking up the scenery for my setting.

The real research, however, began in earnest when my medieval characters appeared in my manuscript. There were peasants loyal to Tell, and yeomen who revered their lord, Stefan’s ‘uncle’. There were the nobles, Stefan’s ancestors, who distrusted him; some were charmed, but others considered him a fool. There were monks with strange attitudes about religion, and the alchemist’s science clashed with his catholic brother’s spirituality. An innkeeper did his best to keep the peace with a corrupt soldier and an ancient sibyl mistook Stefan for the alchemist. Stefan’s encounters challenged his (and my) concept of friendship, mercy, honour, faith, courage, pride and humility.

If I’d known how tough the times would be for Stefan, caught in the middle of this legend, messing everything up with his superior knowledge, I would have let him join Tell’s Cause instead. But how could I, when my purpose was to show there’s a thin line between Freedom Fighters and Terrorists in any age?

Anyway, I had no choice. I had to turn to the internet and the historical textbooks I once scorned. I collected information about the medieval people: their daily lives and attitudes, costumes, weaponry, castles, monasteries, taverns, forests and herbs, everything, even their horses. The monastery and town square were different to the ones on Stefan's side of time. Months of research turned into years. Medieval science led me to alchemy, the alchemist’s lab and the idea of changing base metal into gold. I researched the deeper philosophic layers trying to decide what I believed in. Was there really any difference between alchemy, religion, science, myth and magic? The more Stefan discovered about himself and his identity, the more I learnt about me and I came to the conclusion that Stefan and I now think pretty much alike.

If I could, I would write a modern day novel in which my contemporaries lived out their lives and loves and chased their goals. Then I would be providing a historical record of the early 21^st century for those who come after. Fortunately, skilled writers are already doing this while I remain back in time, swamped in books and files of historical research. While I scan the pages of ‘Medicine in the Middle Ages’ I have to wonder, did I turn the tables on History or did History turn the tables on me?

Thank goodness I didn’t fail Maths.

Bio: An Australian, born in the city and raised in the country, Wendy worked in hospitals as a registered nurse and later raised beef cattle on her property in the Southern Highlands, NSW. She graduated from the University of New England with a BA in English Literature and Classical Literature in translation.
A mother of two, Wendy lives by the sea with her husband, Teobald, and enjoys long walks on the beach with Spitzli, their Mini Schnauzer. When she's not writing, Wendy likes reading, dressmaking and travel. Her trips to Wilhem Tell's birthplace in Switzerland sparked her interest in the legend.

If you want to know more about Wendy and her obsession with history, visit her website http://wendylaharnar.weebly.com/ .

You can buy The Unhewn Stone directly from Muse It Up Publishing, from Amazon, or almost any other online book purveyor!

You're Never Too Old for Romance

By Ginger Simpson (Guest Blogger)

Stories come from so many places. Usually, mine develop from a character who shows up in my head with a tale to tell, and most of the time, accompanied by a title and an entire roster of cast mates. However, my latest release from Muse It Up Publishing came from someone else.

My high school friend, Caryl, and I reconnected several years ago…in a mall of all places. We’ve kept our friendship alive with emails, Facebook posts, and phone calls, and enjoy sharing out lives’ happenstance with one another.

On one particular night, Caryl, who is single and has been for a number of years, called and shared her excitement at meeting a handsome older man in a shoe store. Since it hadn’t been that long since my divorce and remarriage, I remembered how we old gals can still get butterflies. While men can chase younger women, if we dare look at someone our junior, we suddenly become cougars. Trust me, if I wasn’t married and looked a little more alluring, I’d choose being a cougar over fishing in life’s throwback pond. I’ve already been there, done that, and I’m so fortunate that out of all the castaways, I happened to find one that is a treasure. His ex was a dope, or my last nerve he’s hanging on is a lot stronger than any she had, but I digress as usual.

That night, an idea for a story came to me, but not from a character, but from my friendship with Caryl. I imagined how she felt, meeting someone who might turn out to be more than a friend. I used my emotions with her story, and of course, the title, Just The Right Fit, materialized and is most appropriate. There aren’t a lot of romance stories out there with older heroines, but this is my second. Luckily, Muse It Up Publishing had just opened their “Persephone” line, which calls for a more mature leading lady, so… I’m not sure why Persephone, the goddess of the underworld who is usually depicted as a young goddess holding grain sheafs and a flaming torch, is appropriate for stories about older broads, but I’m not asking.

So now that you know the story behind the story, I’ll thank Lisabet for allowing me to visit on her blog today and share a sample. Hope you enjoy:

Blurb:

When Carolyn Sloane walks into her favorite shoe store, she’s pleased to see the display isn’t limited to sandals and pumps. The new, handsome salesman is a tantalizing addition for an older, single woman, and she’s bound and determined to catch his eye. Is he divorced, married, gay? Carolyn wants something besides a pair of shoes, but who’s the woman he’s escorting from the back room, and why does he have his arm so snugly around her waist?

Excerpt:

“May I help you?” The timbre of his voice matched the broadness of his shoulders and made her jump. His tall silhouette blocked the light filtering through the front window, and her dipped chin seemed frozen in place.

She forced her head up. “Y-es, I-I…” The words she sought lodged behind a lump in her throat.

“I assume you’re holding the shoe you’re interested in.” His smile dimpled his cheeks and displayed white, even teeth. An air of charisma hung about him while she felt caught up in a bubble of ridiculousness.

She forced a smile and with trembling fingers, handed him the shoe. “Yes, size seven please.”

Why in the world did this man have such an effect on her? Could the draw be the splashes of gray at his temples? It couldn’t be the slight limp she detected when he walked through the curtain to the storeroom. But there was something—definitely something. She thrummed her fingertips on the chair’s arm and fidgeted in her seat, waiting for his return—almost dreading the feelings he stirred and unsure how to handle them.

“Here we go.” He appeared through the split material in the doorway with a beige box bearing the familiar logo of the footwear she’d learned to love. With one hand, he hiked up his khaki slacks before kneeling in front of her. He removed her left shoe, his grasp warming her heel when he slipped off her worn pump.

The personal service kept her coming back to the store. Almost no one waited on customers anymore—especially clerks this yummy. She fanned her fingers across her heated face and fixed her gaze on the top of his head, noting he still had plenty of dark brown hair—not even a bald spot. The man was definitely eye candy, and she wasn’t on a diet.

While he slipped on the other walking shoe and tied the laces, Carolyn searched his left hand for a wedding band. His naked finger caused a little squeal to bubble in her throat, but it quickly slid back down when she considered he might be gay. That would be just her luck.

“They look very nice. How do they feel?” He stood back and flashed that selling smile—anything for a sale, she supposed.

“F-fine.” She jutted her legs out and stared at her feet. “I like them.”

“Perhaps you should walk around the room.” He offered his hand and helped her stand. “Make sure they don’t pinch those pretty little toes.”

She hadn’t had tummy butterflies in ages, but he set a flurry loose with a wink of his azure eye. The touch of his palm sent an electric jolt up her arm, and her benign attraction to him turned terminal. Could she sashay across the floor in tennis shoes and a skirt and still look alluring? She craved perfection in his eyes.

***

Well, that’s all I’m sharing with you. If you want to know how the story turns out, you’ll have to buy Just The Right Fit. Like I said, you can find it at Muse It Up Publishing, (http://www.museituppublishing.com), probably on sale as a new release. And, when you have time, I’d love to have you stop by Dishin’ It Out (http://mizging.blogspot.com) and see what’s cookin’ on my blog. I just started a second one, Cowboy Kisses (http://cowboykisses.blogspot.com) for those of you who enjoy western romance. You can mosey on over there, too, if you’d like.

Fighting Cancer - One Dollar at a Time

I try to keep my blog upbeat, but today I want to take a few minutes to introduce a serious subject: cancer.

Practically everyone I know has been touched by this disease. My mother died of leukemia, after two years of chemotherapy that left her a shell of herself. Later, one of my dearest friends succumbed to ovarian cancer, which hit completely out of the blue. My step-mom and several close friends are breast cancer survivors.

You probably have your own litany of victims.

Now you can do a little something to help find a cure for this dreadful disease. This week, MuseItUp Publishing released Lavender Dreams, an anthology to help support cancer research...one dollar at a time. The ten great stories in this book were generously donated by Muse authors. The cover art was also donated. All the royalties from this volume will to go to the Dana Farber Research Hospital, in memory of one of our editors who fought a long battle with cancer. She passed away this year, and it was this hospital her husband asked us to donate and help them along in their research.

I don't have a story in this book, but I know many of the authors who do. It's bound to be fabulous. You can get your copy today - for only $1.99!

With your help, hopefully we can one day find a cure to this disease that has taken many from our lives.

For more details, please visit the Muse bookstore and click on the LAVENDER DREAMS banner on the right sidebar.

Thank you!