Blog Post: Guestpost, Excerpt & Giveaway Joel Skelton – Beneath the Palisade: Justice

A warm Love Bytes welcome to author Joel Skelton. Joel stoppes by our blog today to talk about his new release Beneath the Palisade: Justice.

He shares with us a great guestpost , an excerpt of his book and he brought a wonderful giveaway for our readers !

Welcome Joel 🙂

Romancing the Sauerkraut Ball

 

It’s a chilly, rainy spring morning here in Minneapolis. I’m in the kitchen—seated in one of two club chairs, my legs propped up by a matching leather ottoman. Our townhome is modest, redesigned for comfort. Instead of a traditional dining nook, we opted for comfy seating. After all, it’s no myth people congregate like lemmings to the kitchen and besides, there are plenty of other locations within the house to sit down for a meal.

 

Why am I not working on my latest story, you might ask?

 

Would you believe the characters were getting antsy? They begged me for a sick day. There was talk of a strike. So here I am with my cooking notebook in my lap. I’m scouring the conveniently tabbed appetizer section for the sauerkraut ball recipe I pulled off the internet months ago. My cooking notebook is a three-ring spiral beast I add to every now and then when something delicious catches my eye.

 

I woke up last night craving sauerkraut balls—deep-fried succulent orbs so delectable and hot, you’ve got to commit to vigorous blowing before popping one into your mouth. And like for a pregnant woman, the craving was unrelenting. I make this comparison solely based on information passed on to me by women who have endured pregnancy (I still feel slightly deceitful for using it). An established German restaurant here in town has had these tangy deep-fried balls on their menu for decades. And they do a pretty good job with them, but I know I can do better. These balls need a little romancing. And by “romancing,” I’m talkin’ spice.

 

Feeling more than a smidgen of guilt for giving up on my manuscript, I try to justify this break by bridging thoughts. This is where it gets scary—I finally settle on: just like a well-executed sauerkraut ball, the plot and characters of a story need the right amount of spicing to be a success. How much spice you sprinkle depends on a variety of factors, including setting, age of the character, and their intent.

 

For each of the Palisade stories, my approach was this: create a world filled with characters I would welcome into my own life. That doesn’t mean a collection of perfect people. I mention this because introducing conflict has always been a struggle for me as a writer (adding unpleasant stuff—seriously? Readers will like that?). Anyway, once I had the plot outlined, I felt confident I would understand the spicing. It’s a fine line a writer crosses, creating people who are interesting, believable, talk like us, and yet hold enough mystery for readers not to become bored. And I think in most of my writing, this has worked. There have been times when I’ve grossly over and under spiced, and to this day when I go back to those scenes I cringe, knowing I got it wrong. Readers who spent their hard-earned money on my story know I got it wrong too, and understanding that is disappointing to me as author.

 

Sex scenes in a romance absolutely need special spicing. Sex is tricky. Some readers can handle the heat, crave it, while others shy away or avoid a story because it’s spiced too hot. I’ve learned to go with what feels right and hope to hell more people enjoy it than not. I don’t find writing sex scenes tedious like many writers, but I do struggle with them, and I feel a great amount of relief when I can move on. As a reader, sex scenes have never been of high importance to me. I’ve always valued a good plot and character depth. There have been times when a passage of dialogue between the main characters can be so incredibly sexy, there is no way an actual act of sex could ever, in my mind, be as powerful. That’s a big reason spicing this component is so…tricky.

 

Too summarize (because I’ve grown very comfortable in this chair), like those tasty sauerkraut balls I crave (oh here it is. I just found the recipe), I strive to spice my stories in hope of achieving a subtle, textured result that will leave readers wanting more. Along the way, I hope to continually discover new spices and learn how to use them properly.

 

The rain has stopped. I’ve found what I was looking for, ending any sensible diversion available to me. So I guess it’s back to work. It’s been a pleasure spending time with you. Try a tasty Palisade story if you get around to it, and let me know if you like how they’ve been spiced. Bon appétit!

 

 

TITLE: Beneath the Palisade: Justice

AUTHOR: Joel Skelton

Release Date April 13

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Length: 278 pages

Blurb:

Despite a spirited inner debate pitting right against wrong, Owen Grady is lured off a forest trail by a handsome stranger. Just as he is about to surrender to an urgent desire, Owen realizes he is making a mistake and attempts to leave, but the rejected man wrestles Owen to the ground and discloses he is a cop. Wrongly accused of sexual misconduct, Owen seeks legal help.

 

Ambitious young lawyer Brent Burns is a junior partner at Burns & Callahan, a law firm located within the Men’s Center in Two Harbors, Minnesota. He takes on Owen’s case, determined to prove him innocent. But Brent can’t possibly predict the obstacles on the bumpy road to an acquittal—not the least of which is an ethical taboo involving his heart, which threatens to defeat him before he ever sets foot in the courtroom.

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“Thank you for returning my call, Ms. Dingman. Mr. Callahan asked I remind you to bring all your employment records for your meeting with him today. Yes, all of them. We will make copies for our file while you’re here. You can take the originals back home with you.”

Brent smiled at Fern while he waited for her to finish her call. He had to admit, she’d made great strides over the last week. Gone was the nervous fluster. Her tone was efficient and friendly.

“You know, I’m not sure if they will be of interest to him or not. If it’s not too much trouble, bring them along. Mr. Callahan will look them over and decide.” Fern looked up and rolled her eyes. Her personality was starting to emerge too. Brent liked what he saw.

“I understand. There is a lot to this. Well, any other questions? Right. Just like it says in our letter, 2:00 p.m.” Fern looked hopeful she’d reached the end of the conversation. “Terrific. I’ll look forward to seeing you this afternoon.”

She hung up and blew a strand of hair away from her eye. “Ms. Dingbat, if you ask me. Crap. I don’t think I’ve ever dealt with such a scatterbrain. It’s a wonder the woman can find her way home on her own.”

“Is this the new workers’ comp case Harper took on last week?” Brent asked while fumbling through the mail.

“Sure is. Now you were asking about the pleadings going to Judge Mallory. You know, my dear boy, I don’t think he’s specified….”

Fern stopped midsentence. Brent followed her gaze and looked to the door. Through it walked a lanky young man who sported an impressive black eye that even his superhot designer glasses couldn’t hide. He carried a manila folder. Despite the bruises and scrapes covering much of his handsome face, Brent recognized great potential. Over the years he had fine-tuned an image of someone he deemed highly fuckable. It was his very own benchmark by which all prospective players were measured. This unknowing contestant easily qualified for the championship round.

“Good afternoon. May I help you?” Fern asked with more than a hint of caution.

Brent pretended to look through a stack of folders. Curiosity kept him from heading back to his office. Shithead.

“I was wondering if I could talk to someone about… well, I….” Obviously distressed, the man paused and shifted from one foot to the other.

Intrigued and attracted in a strong way that usually led to arousal, Brent speculated, bar fight. Before he could think of anything professional to say, Fern came to the rescue.

“We’re a law office. If you enter the building through the main door, you’ll find materials on the other services the Center provides,” she stated delicately and then asked, “Are you looking for legal assistance?”

“I need an attorney,” the man said softly, while his eyes, meeting Brent’s for the first time, screamed for help.

Understanding this was his cue, Brent stepped forward, extending his hand. “Hello, I’m Brent Burns. I’m an attorney.”

Another panicked expression flashed across the man’s face when he looked at Fern. That was enough for Brent to reevaluate his approach.

“Let’s do this.” Brent gestured over to the area across from the reception desk. “Have a seat, and I’ll be back in a minute. We’ll go into one of our conference rooms to discuss your matter. Will that work?” We’re making headway with the sensitivity thing.

“That would be great.” Obviously relieved, the man sat.

“Fern, please take a message if someone calls. Say I’ll be back to them before the end of the day,” he added as he turned to leave.

“Sure thing.”

His pulse raced. He couldn’t wait to find out what this was all about. “Would you care for a cup of coffee or a soda?” he heard Fern offer as he made a beeline to Harper’s office.

“Hey.” Brent knocked on his partner’s doorframe.

Seated behind his desk, Harper looked up from a stack of documents. “Hey.”

“Some guy just walked in all banged up. His face… black eye, cuts… ew. He’s a mess.” Brent took a few steps inside the office.

“Seriously?” Harper looked mildly interested.

“Yeah.” Brent folded his arms across his chest. “He’s kind of nervous too. Anyway, I have him waiting out front. I was going to bring him back to the conference room to chat. Care to join us? I know you have a client coming in soon.”

Thinking this was one of those times where he needed to be assertive, he suggested, “I can take this if you’d like.” Maybe too assertive. “Or, should I have him stop back? You know, make an appointment?” God, you fucked that up. Despite being made a partner, Brent couldn’t shake the feeling of continually being evaluated. Bordering on paranoia, he scolded himself. What’s he going to do, fire me?

“No.” Harper bolted out of his chair. “Don’t have him come back. That’s one of the big-city, big-firm practices I think really sucks. I want us to be an open door. I’ve been meaning to have that discussion with you. Your instinct to bring him back was the right one.”

“Part instinct and part I haven’t got anything else to fucking do at the moment,” Brent joked.

Harper led the way into the reception area. “Hello,” he greeted the guy seated on their tastefully upholstered new sofa.

Startled, the man spilled the contents of the folder he was carrying onto the coffee table. Harper’s dazzling looks and confident manner caused calamities like that all the time. Brent was used to them. “Hell… hello.” Flustered, he bent down, collected his papers, and stood.

“Fern.” Harper leaned over her desk. “We’ll be in the conference room. Please let me know when my two o’clock arrives.

“Certainly.”

“I’m Harper Callahan, the other half of Burns and Callahan. I trust you’ve met my partner?”

“Yes,” the man answered, clutching his folder tight to his chest as he accepted Harper’s hand for a shake.

“Care for something to drink?”

“We’ve covered that,” Fern announced as she typed away.

“Of course.” Harper winked at Brent. “Your name is…?”

“Owen. Owen Grady.”

Joel Skelton is the son of a big-band pianist. Consequently, the arts have always played a prominent role in Joel’s life.

Much to Dad’s dismay, piano lessons gave way to the saxophone, which was eventually retired when the stage called out loud and clear.

Writing is the latest destination in the author’s tour of the arts. Joel, along with his partner live in the thriving Minnesota arts community commonly referred to as the Twin Cities.

Follow Joel on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter @Joel_Skelton

Joel’s Webpage

Joel brought with him especially for Love Bytes a copy of his new release

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