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Guest Spot: Barbara Scott’s CAST A PALE SHADOW

Tuesday, July 22nd, 2008

Please join me in welcoming talented psychological suspense author Barbara Scott back for another week of wonderful entertainment!  This week, I asked Barbara to provide us with another of her wonderful excerpts, and she provided an excerpt from CAST A PALE SHADOW!  Read away, and enjoy! - Esther Mitchell

From Barbara Scott:

CAST A PALE SHADOW  was too long.  Faced with having to make cuts to meet the publisher’s guidelines my editor, the talented Gail Delaney, author of the Phoenix Rebellion series, advised me to consider cutting sections in secondary character’s points of view.  This helped focus the story on the hero and heroine.  Here’s a scene that was lost as a result.  It gives some insight into the character of Bob and Edie Kirk, the heroine’s parents. Think of it as getting the DVD release with extras.    

 

 

 

On the cutting room floor:

    Bob Kirk had not gone to work that afternoon.  He had a good excuse, better than most he used, but of course, his secretary was not given the whole truth.  She would cover for him.  She had enough practice, and he always made it worth her while.  He had spent the bulk of the day on his favorite stool at the Riverview Tavern.  The bar was named for its street and not its scenic aspect.  The river to be viewed was more than a mile to the east and obstructed from view by the trucking companies and warehouses that cluttered most of the north St. Louis riverfront. In any case, the regular customers of the establishment would have been unable to see anything beyond the frosted, nicotine-stained front window with its blinking neon Budweiser, Coors, and Miller signs and had little interest in viewing any liquid but what filled their glasses, which Danny, the barkeep, kept flowing as freely as Old Man River.  
 Sending Trissa flowers was very far from Bob’s mind at the moment.  A thought so sweet would have been cauterized by the acid memory of how his own daughter, the vicious little bitch, had destroyed, perhaps for good, one of his only assets in this life, his face.  Every time he looked in the mirrored backbar he felt like shit.  It took two stiff drinks to give him the courage to look up again, and when he did, another round would start.  Only the shadowy dimness of the bar and Danny’s penchant for taping hand-lettered notices to the mirror gave him any respite.  If he angled his head in a certain way, the worst of his damage was hidden between the Jim Beam bottles and the yellowed card that read “Only your wife will keep a tab on you!”  

He was well on his way to flushing out the incriminating details of last night.. Gin had a way of absolving one’s guilt.  He had already half-convinced himself that the lie he had tried out on Edie was indeed the truth.

 “My God, Bob, what happened to you?” he remembered her screaming when he’d opened the front door to let her in from her mercy mission to her sister.  “Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, look at your face!”

 “Get in and shut the door first,” he’d growled in response.  “I don’t want the whole neighborhood knowing our business.  If you had been here where you belong taking care of your own family instead of your pain-in-the-ass sister’s, none of this would have happened.”   

It had not been easy on him to spend half the night at Barnes, made to wait like some common street drunk.  So what if Barnes was supposed to be one of the best hospitals in the whole damn country.  Everyone knew if you wanted to be treated right, you went to a Catholic hospital; you went to St. Andrew’s.  But how could he have gone there and taken the chance of being recognized in his sorry state? 

“Ellen’s sick, Bob, you know she’s sick.  I had to go,” Edie had mewled in that whiney voice that drove him up the wall even when he didn’t have a hangover and sixteen stitches in his cheek and jaw.  “Did you get into a fight?  Did somebody try to rob you?” 
“Your daughter did this to me!”
 “What?  Trissa?  What are you talking about?  Where is she?  Trissa, get down here this instant!” she immediately hollered up the stairs.  It had pleased him to see her righteous indignation on his behalf.  It had encouraged him in his cover-up. 
“She’s not here.  She ran out.  She cut me with a knife like some two bit whore from down on Cherokee Street, then she ran.”  He made sure he was under the full glare of the kitchen light before he turned his wounded cheek fully toward her, the better that she should see and appreciate what mutilation the child of her womb had achieved.   

Edie pulled back in dismay.  “I— I can’t believe this!  Did you slap her again?  Lord, I knew this would happen some day the way you treat one another.”  

 It was just like her to think him to blame.  They’d gang up on him if he’d let them, these women that he fed and clothed and sheltered.  “You’re damn right, I hit her.  I caught her sneaking in here when I heard you tell her to stay home and study.” 

“She went out?  Where?” 

“How the hell do I know where?  But on her back most likely.” 

“What?”
 “Lying and smart-mouthing me when I confronted her about it, too, like she always does.  You know her lip.  You heard her threaten me with the police the other day.  As if the police had any right sticking their nose into a father’s business!” 
Edie had had to sit by that time, her head in her hands on the kitchen table.  “I don’t understand it.  I’ve never seen her with anybody.  There’s never anybody coming around, calling.  When I was her age, there were always boys around, nice boys, meeting the folks, sitting on the porch.  But not Trissa.” 
“You think that kind of boy’s going to come up to the front porch when she keeps them entertained in some back seat?  But I’m sure they’re all Johnny-on-the-spot the way she flaunts herself.” 

 “Trissa?  But–” 

“But, but nothing.”  He could tell she had her Mother Hen feathers up.  “You see, this is what she counts on, you siding against me.  This is why something like this can happen,”  he jabbed at his laceration to make his point, “And she thinks she can get away with it.” 

“Please, Bob, tell me exactly what happened.  Trissa?  I just can’t–” 

“I’ve been telling you.  She came home, I asked her where she’d been catting around at all hours, and she flew at me like some wild creature, accusing me of vile, unnatural things such as I never thought to hear from a daughter to her father.  God knows who puts such thoughts in her head, locking herself in the closet half her life like she has, like she’s got something to hide, like I ain’t changed her dirty diapers, or spanked her little ass when she needed it.”

   

It had almost sounded like the truth to him.  Hell, it could have been the truth.  What did he know?  He’d been drunk enough to have forgotten.  But surely he hadn’t been drunk enough to do what he half-remembered wanting to do. 

“Bob, Bobby, my God, did you touch her?  Did you–?  Like–? Not like Rita?” 
“God!  Jesus Christ!  God damn it, yes, I touched her,” he’d crashed his fist down on the table, sending his coffee cup flying, its dregs splattering the front of them both.  “You want me to show you how I touched her?  Come here, I’ll show you!”  Before she could cringe away, he’d snatched her up by the collar and drew his hand back to smack her doubting face but he decided it wasn’t worth it, and he’d walked out and left her there. 
  “Bobby.  Bobby, I’m sorry.  Don’t go, please.  Bobby!” he’d heard her calling after him as he slammed out of the house.  To hell with her.  To hell with them both.  He had other places to go, other women who would more than welcome him. Or would they?  He caught another glimpse of himself in the mirror and winced.   

Danny, astute bartender that he was, saw his distress and was ready with the shaker to refill his glass.  Putting lie to his bedraggled sign that warned “The only thing on this house is the roof” which clung by one corner below the neon Anheuser-Busch eagle, Danny pushed aside the crumpled bill Bob tried to place on the bar. 

“For medicinal purposes,” he said.  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Bobbo, it’ll probably heal up into a decent and distinguished scar.  Knowing you, you’ll wrench the heart out of some poor gal, telling your stories about how you got it.” 

 And Danny, who didn’t know the real story any more than Bob would after enough gin had sluiced it out of his system, was probably right.    

 

 

 

 

 

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Barbara Scott’s Work: Reviews

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

Today, as part of our Guest Author’s appearance, we’re posting some reviews of Barbara Scott’s work.  See what others say about Barbara’s work:

TUG OF WAR 

214 pgs, 1st ed., paper,  grs. 7-12;  

US$7.95 (ISBN 0-943864-70-4). 

http://www.maydavenportpublishers.com/

“This engaging novel  should interest young and elderly readers. It’s American History in 1854 with canon balls, rifles, too, in the streets of the abolitionist state of Kansas. There are adventuresome, some unprincipled, characters: ruthless bounty hunters from MO; idealist mummers from Philadelphia dramatizing “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” in Kansas with MO ruffians terrorizing them with tragic consequences.”  — Teresa A. Dickey, Marymount HS, CA 

CAST A PALE SHADOW

“Barbara Scott’s psychological drama weaves a story that has you on the edge of your seat.”  — Dawn Blankenship, Rumpled Sheets

Find out more about Cast A Pale Shadow at http://www.barbarascottink.com

HAUNTS OF THE HEART

“HAUNTS OF THE HEART opens new vistas in the romance genre–where, to my knowledge, it is unique (and

most wonderfully so), breaking most of the established “rules” of what a romance should be and making us wonder why the rules were established in the first place.” — Patricia White,  Under the Covers Book Reviews

Find out more about Haunts of the Heart at www.barbarscottink.com

  

 

 

 

 

  

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An Interview with Barbara Scott

Tuesday, July 8th, 2008

I’m happy to have author Barbara Scott as my guest all this month.  I took the opportunity to get to know her a little bit better, and thought I’d share our interview with you.  Here’s what Barbara had to say about her book, Cast A Pale Shadow, and writing in general:

EM:  Can you tell us a little about your book, Cast a Pale Shadow?

 Barbara Scott:  Cast a Pale Shadow is a psychological suspense that is the story of an unusual romantic triangle in which two of the points are distinct, functional aspects of the same man.  EM:  What was your inspiration to begin writing? 

BarbaraS:  I began writing almost as soon as I began reading.  I used to entertain my friends with stories and short plays.  My first memory of pleasing an audience is when I had a play I wrote and produced and acted in “go on the road.”  After presenting it to my fifth grade class, the teacher sent us room to room to put it on for other classes.  I don’t remember the title but it was about a mad scientist who had miniaturised and smuggled Hitler out of Germany.  

 EM:  What has been your greatest challenge as a writer?

BarbaraS:   I hate it when a book full of characters I love comes to an end and I have to start a new one with new characters.  It’s like moving out of town and having to make all new friends. 

EM:  How do you cope with writer’s block?

BarbaraS:  I’ve taken a number of online classes and attended workshops that offer solutions for writer’s block.  They are full of inspiration and the writer’s who do them are generous to present their solutions.  But nothing works to get past writer’s block except the bulldozer of your own will power.  You have to put down one word at a time until you shove past it and do that everyday.

EM:  How much of your own life ends up in the books you write?

BarbaraS:   Only vignettes, attitudes, and minor characters, thank God.  I’ve had no major trauma, murders, betrayals, treason, or imprisonment in my life, but these things play major roles in my books.

I do like to sneak people I know into stories, disguised as police, neighbors, or general busybodies. 

EM:  Do you draw inspiration for books from movies, TV or music?  If so, what kinds of each inspire you most?

BarbaraS:  I’m a fan of movies and see at least one theatrical release a week.  I’m not a snob and I find myself fairly easily entertained by action, drama, romantic comedy, kid’s movies, almost anything but crude comedy and slasher horror.

        On TV, I’m ashamed to admit I get addicted to competitive reality shows like Top Chef, Hell’s Kitchen, and Project Runway.  I even saw every episode of Groomer Has It.  Unfortunately,  there aren’t many dramas or comedies that are can’t miss for me lately, unless you count Meerkat Manor or Jon & Kate Plus 8.

       Music?  I’m a sucker for good lyrics.  So much pop music today is repetitive.  They stick in your head and batter around but they don’t say anything.

EM:   Do you have anything you’re currently working on?

BarbaraS: I have a Western historical and a contemporary that are well along and a few others that are just nuggets.  At the moment, I’m struggling deciding which one to bring to the front burner.

 EM:  What sub genre of Romance do you most identify with?

BarbaraS:   I love to read historicals and big, mainstream contemporaries such as those written by Susan Wiggs and Mary Alice Monroe.  Long and detailed is my preference.  I like to chose what to read and what to skip in a book. I’m not a fan of having that choice forced on me by publishers who put out screenplays disguised as novels, all dialogue bones and no meat.  I’d rather watch the movie.

EM:  Can you give us links to your website, and anywhere readers might find out more about you? 

BarbaraS:  My website is http://www.barbarascottink.com

EM:     If you had to pick one character from your book that you’d be most interested in seeing come to life, who would it be, and why?

BarbaraS:  That’s an interesting question.  I guess it would have to be Anthony Linville.  He’s the antagonist in Haunts of the Heart.  I’ve now been through three books with him and I still don’t know if he’s happy with the ending I gave him.  I’d like to sit him down and ask him just what is it he wants.

I’d like to thank Barbara for being here, and for sharing these insights into her writing and life.  Look for more from Barbara by visiting my webgroup,

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/emreadergroup any Tuesday this month, or check back here on Tuesdays as I find out more about our guest!

 

 

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