I have the pleasure to introduce you all to Jo Grafford, who is celebrating the recent release of her book "Breaking Ties".
Jo also recently moved to Germany - enough reason for me to ask her over for a little chat.
Q:
You've only just moved from the US to Germany. Great opportunity and big
change. Tell us how you came to move across the Atlantic?
 |
| Schloss Neuschwanstein |
Hi,
Iris! Thank you so much for hosting me today. We moved to Germany, compliments
of the U.S. Army last summer. My husband commands a clinic here in Bavaria. It
has been a completely awesome education experience for us and our kiddos. We’ve
been taking classes to learn conversational German, trying out many new foods
like wiener schnitzel (breaded pork chops) and spƤtzle (a popular side dish of pasta served in
place of potatoes), and – of course - touring castles. Last week, we
took a road trip to the Alps in Garmisch and from there took a bus tour to
Neuschwanstein Castle, the inspiration behind Disney’s Cinderella castle.
(I love Spaetzle! - IB)
Q:
What has been the biggest challenge so far?
Communicating
with friends, fellow writers, and my publisher Astraea Press back in the States
due to the time difference. We are living in the Central European Time zone,
which is 6 hours later than Central Time. That means attending my own book
release extravaganza online lasted till 3:30 a.m. Also, the “rush hour” for
social media in the U.S. – one of the best places to network with fellow
readers and writers – starts about 11:00 p.m. here. Naturally when I’m guesting
on another writer’s blog, I feel obligated to stay up way past my bedtime to
respond to visitor comments. Needless to say, I’ve become quite a night owl since
our arrival in Germany.
Q:
I miss the German cuisine. Tell us what you like/dislike so far and what it is
you miss from "home".
I
LOVE the famous German sausage sandwiches, all of their fabulous pork recipes,
the Bavarian sweet and sour kraut, the breads and pastry bakeries that dot
every corner of town, the miles of aisles of regionally produced wine
selections, the best chocolate in the world, and their fresh organic open
markets that run all summer long! Every week, I walk through these markets with
a basket on my arm and come home with the most delicious raspberries, snow
peas, carrots, and handpicked apples.
On
the other hand, I greatly MISS ice cubes, free refills, weed and pest control
products, and central air. Everything over here is strictly organic, so you
have to come up with very creative and natural ways to rid your yard of weeds
and moles and to rid your house of fruit flies and enormous spiders. Plus you
have to constantly adjust blinds, curtains, and ventilation in your house
throughout the day to control the temperature without the aid of an air
conditioner.
Q:
Last but not least, tell us a bit about your latest release and how you came up
with the idea.
The story of the Lost Colonists on Roanoke has
fascinated me since I was a child. I never liked the one paragraph entry in our school
history textbooks that credited them with “most likely being slaughtered en
mass by hostile natives.” I always imagined them as real people who lived and
laughed and loved and had a whole “rest of the story” yet to be told.
As
an adult, I finally went on a quest to learn as much about these brave pioneers
as I could. I read over a dozen books, pored through original ship manifests
and sailing journals, and even took a trip to the Outer Banks a year ago. I got
to stand on the same beach they stood on as they watched their ships sail back
to England – not to return for three year with their much-needed supplies –
much too late to be of any help.
Then
a very exciting event happened last October while I was still writing Breaking
Ties. The British Museum released the news of a clue discovered beneath a patch
on an original Lost Colony map. After many false leads and rumors throughout
the last 426 years, this sketch of a fort located fifty miles inland from Roanoke
Island might very well prove to be the first conclusive proof of survivors!
As
a tribute to their courage and heroism, I am dedicating a fundraiser called A
Thanksgiving Wish to these First Colonists. Each copy sold in November of my
debut novel, Breaking Ties, first book in the Lost Colony Series, will help
fund the upcoming archaeological dig of this newly discovered fort site beneath
Scotch Hall Preserve in NC.
I
am also holding a drawing for three gift cards to Amazon and Barnes and Noble –
valued at $50, $25, and $15 - to appreciate my readers.
Winners
will be announced Thanksgiving Day.
Blurb:
A
cursed island, a chilling conspiracy, and an unforgettable love story. The
115 colonists on Roanoke Island couldn’t GPS, skype or twitter their
ultimate destination back to their families and friends in 16th Century
England. But modern laser technology has finally uncovered a clue -
hidden beneath a patch on an ancient map at the British museum - that
leads us to their whereabouts. Considered “lost” for centuries, these brave
pioneers finally reveal the rest of their story in Book One of the Lost Colony
Series.
Rose
Payne’s world is left in tatters after a disastrous betrothal, making her an
easy target for recruiters to the Colonies. Using every cent she has, Rose
sails for the New World and a fresh start, vowing to never again fall for a
wealthy man.
Returning
from a diplomatic tour in London, Chief Manteo is bewitched by the fiery-haired
ship’s clerk and determined to overcome her distrust. He contrives a daring
plan to win her heart – one that forces her, honor bound, to serve as a slave
to his tribe – a plan he prays will protect her from a chilling conspiracy
involving murder, blood money, and a betrayal of their fledgling colony so
terrifying it can only be revealed in Breaking Ties.
Author
Bio:
Jo
Grafford is from St. Louis, Missouri. An award-winning author at Astraea Press,
Jo writes historical fiction to spotlight unsung heroes and unsolved mysteries.
She published her first poem in junior high, edited her high school
newspaper while typesetting for a local news journal, and has been writing ever
since. She holds an M.B.A. and has served as a banker, a junior college
finance instructor, and a high school business teacher. She is a PRO member of
Romance Writers of America and From the Heart Romance Writers RWA
Chapter. The mother of three children and the wife of a soldier, she
serves as a literacy volunteer for elementary school students.
Buy
Links & Contact Info:
Twitter:
@jografford
Excerpts:
PREFACE
Sometimes murder isn’t as messy, up-close,
and personal as many people imagine it to be. Sometimes it is distant and
impersonal – as simple as crossing a line through a name on a sheet of paper.
Or one hundred and fifteen names in our case.
CHAPTER
ONE
Portsmouth, England, April
26, 1587
“Yer bum’s hanging out the window!” My brother banged his empty
mug on the inn table. He ran both hands through his hair, as red as my own,
standing each flaming lock on end.
My lips turned up despite the heaviness in my chest. It felt good
to hear him lapse into the Gaelic brogue of our childhood. “Och, Donnen!” I
reached across the table to clasp his large hands and grimaced at the stench of
salmon and sweat hanging in the air. “I dinna bring ye here to quarrel. ‘Tis my
first job offer in weeks.”
I dared not share my other reason for leaving.
“Nay, ye can stay with me till ye find a different job. Crossing
the Atlantic unwed is bad enough, but these—” He shook my upraised palms, “are
ink stains. Blast it all! Ye’re a clerk, not a sailor.”
“Indeed?” Saints alive, he acted as if I was still twelve instead
of nineteen. “Well, good news. I shall be accompanied by other women – whole
families of people, for that matter – and ‘tis a clerk they need.”
“Only because—“ Donnen glanced around the room and lowered his
voice. “The last one left in a frightful hurry along with half the crew
all in the same night.” His glare was fierce. “Rumor has it the entire
fleet is bound straight for Jonah’s watery vault. I don’t suppose that
came up during the bloomin’ interview?”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
"You want my help." 'Twas an accusation.
"Aye."
His eyes darkened. "I save your life. I give gifts. I offer
marriage." He closed the remaining distance between us, his eyes burning
into mine.
I stumbled back.
"You give nothing in return," he snarled. "You only
ask for more."
"I would had I something to offer," I whispered.
"But I have nothing. I am nothing."
"Then what use are you to me?" He wheeled away.
I sagged against the door, eyes stinging. I blinked rapidly and
pressed a hand to my stomach. Nausea rolled at the thought of informing the
others of my failure.
Manteo circled the cabin like a hawk stalking its prey. 'Twas a
fine room with ornately carved shelves lining one wall. Bunks were built into
the next wall. A generous desk jutted from the third, overflowing with maps and
navigational devices. I recognized the compass and hourglass but could not
identify the other instruments. I jerked in surprise when Manteo swooped down
upon me.
"I know our location." His arms shot out and slapped the
wall on either side of me, hemming me to the door. "I could swim ashore
from here."
"Then why do ye stay if ye can leave and save yourself?"
"Governor White gave his word to deliver me home."
"We are going to starve, Manteo. 'Tis only a matter of days
now."
"Nay. You alone starve. The others eat."
"I have no appetite."
"You act as one already dead."
I straightened my back. "I accept what I cannot change."
"And I change what I cannot accept." He shifted his
weight to the wall, one arm propped over my head. He drew his fingertips down
the side of my face in a feather-light caress.
I closed my eyes against the rush of unbearable sweetness. He made
me long for things forbidden. "'Tis within your power to help us. I am
begging you."
"Very well."
My eyes flew open. "Ye will do this for us."
"For you." His voice was silken, his features as hard as
granite.
I smiled tremulously. "I thank thee, Manteo. Chief Manteo,
that is." The new title felt strange on my lips. I beheld him with a
mixture of awe and pride.
"I have yet to name my price."
I stared, confused.
He grunted in disgust. "You refuse me as both husband and
lover, so you are left with the hiring of my services."
I worried my lower lip between my teeth. At least he was willing
to negotiate. His eyes flashed with lust as he followed my movements.
"I will entreat the Dares for payment."
"Nay. You are the one in my debt."
I raised and dropped my hands helplessly.
"You serve this company, no? You can serve my people,
too."
"Ye would hire me as clerk?" Hope leaped in my chest at
the possibilities. I would not have to part from him so soon.
"My people have no clerks." His eyes narrowed. "We
have slaves."
My breath hitched. "Ye wish to punish me, humiliate me?"
"Nay, I only wish to marry you."
I briefly closed my eyes against the pain. He already knew the
reason for my refusal.
"Rose."
"Say no more. I will do it. 'Twill be punishment enough to
see you so often and—“ I clamped my lips.
Exultation flickered briefly across his face. "You would give
up your freedom to save your friends?"
"Without question."
"Swear it," he said grimly.
"I swear it."
His eyes flared with emotion. He bent slowly 'til his breath
stirred my lips. My eyelids fluttered closed. Heaven help me, for I had no will
left to resist him.
"Now you will eat," Manteo commanded hoarsely. He
stepped back, surveying me from head to feet.
"Eat?"
"I have no slaves so thin and weak. Go. Collect your
rations." He turned from me and bent to pore over a map on the table.
I reached for the door handle, disbelieving at the curt dismissal.
"And send for Anthony. I have need of him."
I glared at his back. Faith, should I press my face to the floor
as well? "Aye, master." I bit the words out and fled.
