A Journey Inside the Mind of Belinda Vasquez @MagicProse #Romance #Suspense #GoodReads

My mind is like my office, cluttered with creativity. On one wall are two sets of book shelves sweeping the ceiling. A few of the shelves are filled with papers scribbled with writing for various books that will one day be written. There is one shelf reserved for notebooks where each notebook contains notes or writing for a particular book. I have piles of notes on the table next to me. These piles are for my current book I’m working on and for my next book.

I believe the mind has more than one subconscious. My theory is that the brain has a layer of them and I have a subconscious for each book I plan to write or have partially written. For me, writer’s block doesn’t exist. If I get stuck, I simply forget about it, knowing that the next morning, the writing will be there. My subconscious has written it while I was sleeping.

There are two times my mind likes to write. One, of course, is when I’m sitting in front of the computer deliberately writing but never forcing the words. The second time is, sometimes, when I’m relaxed. I’ll be at my Zumba class exercising and suddenly my subconscious will start writing. Dialogue or narration comes spilling out. Sentences, paragraphs, or plot will disappear if not put on paper as soon as possible. My mind only comes up with it once and then moves onto another part of the book.

When I go out to eat, I often have to write on napkins because my mind decides to become creative in the middle of a chicken salad sandwich.

I have piles of scribbling. I try to get organized and write in a notebook. I’ve got two notebooks laying around with writing for my current book. I have ten notebooks dedicated to future books with scribbling that came out as fully-written prose.

When I begin a new book, I go through the scribbling to find what’s already been written. Sometimes it’s dialogue or prose, or plot, or character development, or a sketchy outline of the story. Often it’s the ending of the book or the beginning.

My brain, also, likes to write when I’m driving. I’ve had to pull into parking lots to scribble on pads of paper. This doesn’t happen often any more since I no longer have to commute to a job but write full time. I once tried a tape recorder, but a different part of the brain does speech. As soon as I open my mouth, the writing vanishes from my subconscious, and I can’t remember a word or what it was even about. But if I write with my subconscious, the words flow.

When I’m trying to go to sleep, my mind will start writing occasionally. I have to keep getting up and scribbling on the notebook I keep on my nightstand. I sometimes finally tell my brain to shut up so I can sleep.

If I’m beginning a new book, my brain will go nuts and the words and voices spill out like a fountain.

The last thing Miranda ever expected was to see her brother’s ghost at the fallen Twin Towers.

It’s bad enough survivor Christopher Michaels scares her with claims that if one dies violently, his ghost will haunt the place that holds his name. And to top it all, one of those thousands of ghosts follows Miranda to her hotel. The only certainty is the ghost grabbing her under the covers is not Jake.

Their parents’ deaths separated Miranda from Jake when they were kids. Michaels insists Jake brought them together and it’s no coincidence that of thousands mourning at Ground Zero, it’s his best friend she bumps into. Some best friend. Michaels is more like a moocher. The cheapskate never has money, just a blood-stained wallet he broods over. Miranda has no choice but to hang out with the weird Michaels in order to unravel her brother’s past.

As Miranda spends time with Michaels, she begins to wonder who he really is. Against her better judgment, Miranda becomes emotionally entangled with Michaels, a bitter alcoholic with a secret linked to her brother and that blood-stained wallet.

I Will Always Love You is part mystery, suspense and romance, a novel that will keep the reader turning the pages!

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Genre – Suspense, Mystery, Romance

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Belinda Vasquez Garcia on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://belindavasquezgarcia.com/

Return of the Bones by Belinda Vasquez Garcia @MagicProse #Historical #Fiction #MustRead

“He’s not dead; he just had a slight heart attack,” Steve said. She cried in Steve’s arms and peeked over his shoulder. Ah, look at the old man with no teeth and puckered lips; so skinny, mostly bones. His white hair swept his heart. He lay in a coma in an oxygen tent with tubes running into his chest, arms and stomach. He also suffered a slight stroke. The doctors marveled that at his age he held his own.

A priest arrived to administer the last rites, shoving her aside while he blessed his forehead.

“He has not worshipped Catholicism for years ever since he secretly joined the Native American Church,” she said, pushing him back and quivering with anger that this man would just assume.

“Ah, so the poor soul is not Christian then. No wonder he worships in secret,” the priest said.

“The American Indian Religious Freedom Act has allowed him for twenty-one years to practice his peyote religion openly. Our church believes in the Bible but we use peyote to commune with Jesus,” Steve said.

She glared at the priest.

He spun on his heels and hastily left the room.

With shaky fingers, she covered Grandfather with another blanket. “He always complains of the cold and the swamp cooler. He’s not going to die. That priest…” With long strides she hurried towards the exit and ran down the hall, holding a hand to her mouth. This Clorox-stinking hellhole must have a damned bathroom.

She barely made it to the toilet, folded over and emptied her stomach.

Steve waited for her at the bathroom exit. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, led her to a chair, and grasped her hands in his.

“He knows you love him, Holly,” he said.

She wiped her eyes, remembering Grandfather’s wish for her to act strong and shuffled back to his room.

The case he gave her at Pecos had words engraved on the leather: Dr. Alfred V. Kidder, Professor of Archae-ology, Harvard University. The case contained a black and white photo with the words, Pecos Bones, scrawled across the back along with the date December 23, 1915. The photo showed a slender, recent Ph.D. grad, an Indiana Jones wan-nabe, with burning ambition in his eyes that bespoke of a hunger for fame. He stroked his moustache with a delicate hand. The Pecos ruins drooped in the background of the photo, not as time-ravaged as present day. Dust caressed old-time trucks parked in the distance. Tents poked out from the earth like giant ant hills. He stood with hands on hips and puffed-out chest by a pile of bones. One booted foot rested atop a skull like a trophy, yet his furrowed brow and eyes reflected a sadness that revealed his conscience. The photo showed wear, not just due to age; Grandfather apparently twisted the picture in his hands many times.

She dropped the papers and with shaky fingers gathered the diary into her arms and shoved the photo into the case.

Grandfather fluttered his eyelashes and moved his lips. His fingers grasped at the bed sheet.

She ran out the door with Steve at her heels.

“He’s awake,” she yelled at the nurses.

The first thing he did when he gained full con-sciousness was motion her to come closer. He spoke in a voice slurred by his stroke but between her and Steve they understood.

“Did you bury me at Pecos? My heart beats there still because the Pecos is where we began. Life and death should come full circle,” he croaked.

“Governor, didn’t you hear the doctor? You can’t die yet. I’m going to bring home the bones. You have a re-union to look forward to.”

In his confusion he must have misunderstood her words. He thrashed about the bed and the attendants tied him down.

He cried something about his rusty magic. “Why does my spirit linger in the crossbow of life?”

RETURN OF THE BONES has won BEST HISTORICAL FICTION for the 2013 NEW MEXICO / ARIZONA BOOK AWARDS!

A dazzling, family epic of love and forgiveness. Return of the Bones is a very special book inspired by a true story -- In 1915, 2,067 skeletons were stolen from the ghost pueblo of Pecos and transported to Harvard University for medical research...In present day and across the miles, the wind carries their cries to Grandfather who hears the bones longing for home.

Hollow-Woman and Grandfather are the last of the Pecos people, but Hollow-Woman is not interested in ancient skeletons. She works at an Indian casino and is of the modern ways, while Grandfather is a shaman and values tradition. She hopes the road trip will heal their broken hearts.

Grandfather fashions a magical dream catcher to help her "see" her ancestors' lives, and come to love the missing bones, as he does. While driving a ratty old pickup-camper, the cantankerous Grandfather and stubborn Hollow-Woman bicker from New Mexico to the Peabody Museum.

A glowing literary work, with religious undertones of the persecution of Native Americans by the Catholic Church's Spanish Inquisition. Return of the Bones pulses with emotion. The pages are filled with the comical way Grandfather looks at the world while embracing the heartbreak and spirituality of the Native American peoples.

You may know these famous bones on which landmark studies proved that exercise prevents osteoporosis! 

Did you know that President George W. Bush's grandfather, Prescott Bush, dug up Geronimo's grave and stole his skull to be used as initiation into the Skull and Bones Society at Yale?

Buy Now @ Amazon & Audible

Genre - Historical fiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Belinda Vasquez Garcia on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://magicprose.com/