Often times, I’m asked where my inspiration comes from – most authors get that question. And most authors have similar answers. We get our inspiration from everywhere. We get our ideas from everywhere. Ideas are never the problem – the challenge is in the execution of The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing by Evan Marshall. It was recommended by someone, so I took the plunge and got a bit of useful stuff from it. I also got a book out of it – but not in the way the author intended. One of the author’s examples included a person who inherited a bookstore and the ghost kept scaring away customers. I thought – that would be fun. So, I took out a pad of paper and just let my mind wander. I came up with Noah and Henry.
Noah’s father passed away suddenly, leaving him a nearly bankrupt bookstore. Only, he got a bonus with the store – the original owner, Henry. A spry sixty-six years old when he died, Henry is a charming and witty ghost in his bow tie and perfectly polished shoes. He teaches Noah not only about business but a bit about what it was like to be black in the South during the Civil Rights Movement.
It was beautiful, and I loved it. The problem was, I wasn’t around during the Civil Rights Movement, and I was never great at history. So, I called on my wonderful friend, Rowan Speedwell who has a degree in History. She gave me some advice which was so inventive, I asked her to just sit down and write with me. In some ways, we have similar styles – which made it easy when I invited her Zach to come and speak with my Aaron in Spencer. But, in some ways, our styles are vastly different. Rowan has a strong grasp of language and exposition; she loves the details. My writing is much more direct with few flourishes. The effect of combining those skills was masterful. Just enough detail to give you a rich world but direct enough to keep the story singing along.
I love this book, not only because it’s a great book – but because I got to write it with one of my best friends. I still remember that first time I saw her name on the Dreamspinner Press author group and squeed like a seven-year-old girl because I’d loved Finding Zach so much – and now she wanted to be my friend? It was seriously awesome.
So, if you liked Finding Zach and you liked Aaron, erase them from your mind – because this is a complete departure from work we’ve done in the past. Take a look at A Pocketful of Stardust coming July 30th from Dreamspinner Press.
We’re working on the second book in the trilogy now about an antique dealer who gets a little more than he bargained for when he buys a Civil War-era sword at auction.
Just for you, here’s an exclusive excerpt:
Henry was about to reply when the wind chimes over the door jingled and his next-store neighbor wafted in on a wave of sage and patchouli. “Hi, Ananda.”
“Hello, darling! I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing today. Is all well?”
“As can be expected. What can I do for you?”
“For me? Nothing. It’s what I can do for you!”
“What the devil is she wearing?” Henry demanded.
Noah looked at her critically. She had on her usual flowing cotton caftan in muted rainbow designs, her artificially scarlet curls done up in a purple silk scarf. Nothing unusual in that—she’d run Mystic Crystals for as long as Noah had been alive, and he couldn’t remember her looking any other way. She’d even worn a silk caftan to Charlie’s funeral—in white and lavender, to remind him that Charlie had gone on to a better place or nirvana or satori or some such thing.
“I know that it’s going to be difficult, and I thought perhaps a cleansing would be a good way for you to start the business back up again.” She held up the bronze bowl she carried. A thin stream of smoke wafted from it. “I’m going to smudge the place for you to remove all evil influences.”
“Holy mother of pearl,” Henry said, then sneezed.
She ran a metal rod around the edge of the bowl, creating a low, musical tone, then lifted the sage stick from the bowl. Chanting something not English in a soft voice, she waved the stick as she swayed around the store.
Henry sneezed again. And again.
“I can feel the impact on the spirits,” Ananda chanted. “Flee, evil ones! Bother this place no more!”
“Noah!”
“Um, Ananda? Can you stop?”
She did. She’d made it as far as the children’s section. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I think the evil spirits got the message, and your sage is messing with the good ones.”
She glanced around the store, smiling complacently. “Yes, I don’t sense the evil spirits any longer, and we don’t want to chase out Charlie’s influence. Just let me know if you need me to come back.”
“I sure will.”
“And don’t forget to stop by later and have your chakras aligned.”
“Sure thing.”
“Then if you don’t have any more need for me, I’d best go get ready to open up.” She gave Noah her biggest smile. “It’s so nice to have you back, Noah. Charlie would be so happy.”
“Thanks, Ananda. See you later.”
The door had barely closed behind her when Henry exploded. “Good God in heaven, Noah, what was that old hippie talkin’ about?”
“She’s not a hippie. She’s a….” Noah struggled a moment. “Okay, she’s a hippie. But she means well. She’s a really kind lady.”
“A kind lady with funky incense.” Henry waved a hand in front of his face. “Sweet baby Jesus, that stuff stinks.”
“I’ll tell her next time not to use sage because my resident specter is allergic to it. She’ll just bring over a stack of healing crystals instead.”
“Say what?”
“Never mind. Hippies weren’t into crystals in your day?”
“Child, hippies were into marijuana and free love. Not that we had many around here—hippies were mostly privileged white children—but I met a few in my day.”
“Well, Ananda’s mostly into holistic stuff, not pot, and if she has any lovers, she keeps it pretty quiet. I dunno. She’s got to be in her sixties, at least.”
“Being in your sixties doesn’t mean you stop being interested in romance, Noah.”
Noah shivered. “Ew.”
Henry rolled his eyes.
A Pocketful of Stardust:
Noah Hitchens loves the New York City life he worked hard to build. But when his father dies and leaves him a bankrupt bookstore in their sleepy Georgia hometown, Noah knows he has to save it. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know anything about business. He finds unlikely help in Henry, the man who owned Stardust Books before his 1966 murder, and Kyle St. James, a shy but kind-hearted out-of-towner with a past almost as mysterious as Henry’s.
Kyle came to Aster, Georgia, looking for redemption. On the run and out of hope, he’s just trying to get on with his life. Then he meets Noah, a ghost, and a big sloppy lab named Jake who redefine his idea of living. But his past is closing in, and when it finds him, they could lose everything.
JP Barnaby
JP Barnaby is an award-winning gay romance novelist and the author of over two dozen books. Her heart and soul, the Survivor Series, has been heralded by USA Today as one of their favorites. She recently moved to Orlando to appease her Camaro (Jake) who didn’t like the blustery winters. JP specializes in recovery romance but slips in a few erotic or comedic stories to spice things up. When she’s not working on her latest novel, she binge-watches superheroes and crime dramas on Netflix with her husband and Jack Russell Terror.
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