Talk to Me honored as top 2008 Book to read

If you haven't picked up your copy of Talk to Me, what are you waiting for?
See why Talk to Me is getting rave reviews.
Visit http://edcmagazine.blogspot.com/2008/11/books-change-lives-edc-creations.html.
Thank you all for your support!
Also, when you finish Talk to Me, pick up a copy of Guilty of Love, if you haven't already. Book II, Not Guilty of Love, will hit the shelves September 2009.
Be blessed and Happy New Year.
Pat

Have you read Guilty of Love?

Grab a copies of Guilty of Love for the holidays because Book II: Not Guilty of Love will hit the bookstores next year. While you're at it, pick up my second novel Talk to Me. Visit my website www.patsimmons.net

Guilty of Love & Talk to Me

Great reviews! Perfect gifts for the holidays.
Thank you everyone for your support.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Pat
www.patsimmons.net

Talk to Me is out!!

Grab several copies for gifts especially church deaf ministries.
Check out my book tour stops.
Pat

October Book Signings

Wednesday, October 22, 2008, 6-8 pm
Books-A-Million
8513 Kingston, Pike Knoxville, TN 37919
Contact Cheryl Gibson 865-691-2665

Thursday, October 23, 2008, Noon- 2 pm
Waldenbooks
4 Seasons Towns Center, Greensboro, NC 27407
336-218-7103. Call Leslie and let her know you're coming.
Grab a sandwich and join me for lunch.

Thursday, October 23, 2008, 6-8 pm
Ideas Coffee House
5607 Hwy 55,Durham, NC 27713
919-405-4130

Saturday October 25, 2008, 9 am-7 pm
Christian Authors Expo & Literacy Even
tEvents@Newton Square230 Newton Road, Raleigh, NC 27615
Call 919-247-1044 for more details
www.tituspollardpublishing.com

Sunday, October 26, 2008, 4-6 pm
Books-A-Million #587
4300 Towne Center Dr, Louisville, KY 40241502-426-2252

Monday, October 27, 2008, 1-2 pm only
B Dalton Booksellers, Times Square Mall
Mt. Vernon, IL 62864618-244-4400
One hour meet & greet--see you there!

COMING NOVEMBER 7, 2008, IT'S MY ROMANCE PARTY---DON'T MISS IT!!!

Talk to Me is less than 4 weeks away..

Talk to Me is a great romance read, featuring a feisty church deaf interpreter who somehow gives a misinterpretation.

Take advantage of Amazon's free shipping, plus its pre-order price break by buying 3 copies at $10.17 a piece. Talk to Me will make great holiday, birthday, or "just because" gifts!!!

Visit http://www.talktomebook.blogspot.com/ to read excerpts, or visit my website at http://www.patsimmons.net/

Last Call for Book Clubs

It's my last call for book clubs that featured Guilty of Love as its selection of the month this year to send me a picture.

I'm putting together a 2009 full color calendar, showcasing fans, readers, and book clubs who read Guilty of Love.

So don't miss out on your opportunity to grab the "Book club of the Month" spot in my 2009 author calendar. Here's one entry, Readers' Paradise Book club.

It's easy, send me a jpeg of you or your group holding up copies of Guilty of Love. For more information, email me at pat@patsimmons.net.

Remember, I need your picture before the end of September, and don't forget to pre-order your copy of Talk to Me, October 28, 2008.

Visit http://www.patsimmons.net/

Pre-order Talk to Me

Make sure members of your church's Deaf Ministry gets their own copies of Talk to Me. It's countdown to the release of Talk to Me on October 28, 2008, and your chance to win a date with cover model Fred Williams.

It's easy. Send me proof of your pre-order of Talk to Me. For details about the deadline, visit http://www.patsimmons.net/.

Win Date with Talk to Me Cover Model

Hi Christian romance reader,
October 28, 2008, is fast approaching for the release of my second novel, Talk to Me. The cover model on my next Christian romance, Fred Williams, has a agreed to a day of dining, dancing, and/or movies with one lucky winner. Fred Williams is also a two time finalist with the RT BOOKLOVERS Convention's Mr. Romance competition; sponsored annually by Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine. Fred will drive or fly to your location for the date.
It's easy to enter. Send me proof of your pre-order of Talk to Me by midnight, October 1, 2008. This can be purchased online or at any bookstore.
Every purchase increases your chances.
Only one winner will be announced on November 1, 2008.
To read excerpts, visit www.TalktoMebook,blogspot.com.
Remember Guilty of Love is available now!
Pat Simmons, author
3831 Vaile Ave, Box 58
Florissant, Mo 63034

June 2008, Talk to Me excerpt

Introducing Nick Dixon...

Once inside the vestibule, the doors to the sanctuary were propped open for an easy entrance. I crossed over the threshold, mesmerized. The already beautiful sanctuary was transformed into a majestic playhouse, and the new setting seemed to spill into the hall as if the splendor couldn’t be contained.
The lighting gave the illusion that the pews had shrunk. Nick bumped into me as I walked admiring the changes. The transformation had the Mackenzie touch.
“You don't need any interpretation. Everybody knows the story of Christ's birth,” he said, suggesting in another section where we were three rows from the makeshift stage. I agreed, shook off my coat and followed. I knelt to pray then sat and rested my coat and Bible beside me. Stretching my legs I had just thanked an usher for a program of the night’s performance when Nick tapped me on my arm.
“You know I’m in love with her,” Nick said, his expression serious.
“Who?”
I followed the direction of his star-gazed eyes—Valerie.
I was about to say good luck, but thought better of it. Then I reconsidered. The brother needed to know what he was getting into. “She’s a piece of work.”
Nick blew out a deep breath. “Don’t I know it, but God knows it, too. She doesn’t know that the man she’s searching for is right in front of her. I’m waiting, watching, and praying for God to not only speak to her, but give Val the mind to hear what God has in store for her.” He grinned and nudged me. “You and Mackenzie can’t be the only happy couple in church.”
I wished Nick’s confession was an answer to my prayers and could possibly deliver Valerie’s tormented soul. The lights dimmed to my relief. I didn’t want to talk or think about Valerie until it was necessary. For the next hour, I lip-read some of the songs. When those around me put their hands together, I mimicked them. When their bodies shook with laughter, I laughed, knowing I had clearly missed the amusement.

MAY 2008, Talk to Me excerpt


Also standing, I stepped forward, extending my hand. “Mr. Norton.”
“Noel Richardson, huh? Mackenzie said I’d be pleased and impressed. So far, I’m waiting for both.”
When the bearded man didn’t stir to reciprocate my greeting, Mackenzie moved to my left side, took my hand, and gave it a squeeze. A gesture Mr. Norton didn’t miss or seem to like. Pulling back my hand, I stuffed it in my pocket while he sized me up. The man didn’t know me besides a name, yet his expression showed nothing but contempt.
“Stop it, Daddy. I’m not nine. I’m twenty-nine,” Mackenzie ordered.
“I’m sorry, sir, I meant no disrespect.” The kiss outside his door must’ve really ticked him off, but apologizing seemed the proper thing to do. I wanted to get beyond that.
“Well, Mr. Richardson, sit down. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Show on the road?” I frowned and looked at Mackenzie for an explanation, but she shrugged. Mr. Norton’s body language told me I’d missed some of his words. When I turned back to face him, I lip-read “…you’re going to hit the road.”
Stepping carefully in front of him, I cupped my right hand and pointed it down into the palm of my flat left hand, signing repeat. “I’m deaf.”
“Ah naw,” Fred Norton responded, rolling his head as he dived for me.
Mackenzie jumped and barricaded me. I gently pushed her out of harms way. I would try my best not to hurt the man, but I steeled my body for him to get his best shot before I would restrain him.
When I dodged his first swing, I had to admit this wasn’t how I imagined my year would end.

April 2008 (Excerpt)

Fingers danced before my eyes. They were not Mackenzie or Sharon’s. Jerking my head, I frowned. A staffer grinned. “Stay with us, boss, or we’re likely to go to lunch at the company’s expense.”
I slapped my hands on the table. “Okay everybody, year end reports are due in two weeks.” I waved two fingers in front of them. “No excuses. It’s going to take all of us to achieve next year’s fundraising goals. That’s it.” I stood, adjourning the meeting and headed down the hall. I had almost reached my office when Lana elbowed me.
“Noel, are you okay? You seemed to zone out at times.”
“I’m fine, better than fine.” I chuckled. “I’m back in church, one that has a great Deaf Ministry. I was thinking about inviting you since you have no reason now to say no.” Folding my arms, I waited.
Displaying a seductive smile, she slanted her head, thinking. Finally, her eyes sparkled as if a light bulb turned on. She signed yes, moving her fist up and down.
Ecstatic, I wanted to squeeze her in a hug, but she often complained that I didn’t know my own strength, so I refrained. “I met a woman who I would consider special. Well, it’s hard to describe her. Mackenzie epitomizes so much.”
“No.” Her angelic look faded.
I frowned. “No? What do you mean no?”
Lana’s hands moved rapidly. “Noel, what do you know about her? You haven’t hidden your deafness from her, have you?” Her expression concerned.
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Reaching out, I patted her shoulder. “Relax, Lana. Mackenzie is an interpreter at the church.”

March 2008 excerpt (Talk to Me)

Introducing Valerie Preston, every church has one:

Grinning, I thought about our date at the concert last night. Swaggering in her direction, I stopped when I saw Valerie who seemed upset, judging from her body language. I should’ve walked away, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to intrude, but I was about to.
“And here, I thought we were prayer partners, making intercessory prayers on behalf of each other. What happened, Mackenzie?” Valerie’s lips dripped with venom. “You sure you didn’t slip in your request first and just so happened to remember mine later?” Valerie wagged her finger so close to Mackenzie’s face, Mackenzie should’ve taken a bite.
“How could you steal Noel from me? I’m the one who wanted a husband. You wanted God to open a door for you in Chicago.”
How ridiculous? God wouldn’t be that cruel to bind me to Valerie till death do us part. Exactly what did Valerie mean about Chicago? I stepped back, but I didn’t go away.
“Girl, I’m going to be praying night and day for you to leave permanently. You’re nothing more than a husband stealer. You took what God sent for me!” Valerie’s lips were so tight with emotion I thought she said God sent me for her. If it wasn’t for Mackenzie, I would leave now and return to televangelist sermons.
It was getting a little warm, so I loosened the knot on the tie that took me three tries to manipulate to perfection. I processed Mackenzie, husband, and Chicago. Neither would be happening if I wasn’t involved.

February 2008 excerpt (Talk to Me)
Mackenzie Norton, 29, Elementary School Teacher/Theatre Assisant and Church Interpreter.....I had waited my entire life for Noel Richardson. Physically, he was perfect, and I mean perfect, built like bodybuilder. He had hazel eyes, skin the color of maple butter syrup, and a smile that became permanent when gazed at me. He nurtured his silky black mustache that outlined his upper lip. There never a hair out of place. Lord knows, Noel was as pleasing to my eyes that at times, I couldn’t even blink.Noel’s dress attire always amusingly reminded me of my childhood favorite action hero—good-looking as plain-old Clark Kent, but hidden under that quiet demeanor was the strength of Kent’s alter ego Superman.His polo shirts, T-shirts, or sweatshirts couldn’t restrain his bulging muscles. The cuffs of his pants never, ever touched the dust on the floor. It was as if he had them trained to obey. Noel’s shoes—tennis, sandals, or dress shoes—were always properly maintained. He nurtured for anything or anyone he cared about, including me. So what happened?Noel’s voice—Lord, thank You for Your handiwork—his voice. He had no idea how deep and mesmerizing his words sounded when he whispered. No one would suspect he was deaf. When he raised his voice, which was never until he shouted those scriptures at me non-stop, it was intimidating. Although Noel is deaf, his heart never seemed to having a problem hearing me. So what happened?Spiritually, I thought he was a perfect man of God. We never clashed on scriptures, songs, or even how to praise God until—that night. I loved him, but if we couldn’t have a dialogue or a friendly debate—okay, argument—even if it was about the scriptures, how could we grow as saints of God?When the school year began, I didn’t have Noel. It’s ended, and I still didn’t have Noel. We hadn’t talked since. Now sitting at home, I was restless. Staring out the kitchen window, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Turning around, I remembered to sip my coffee. The flavor was bland, not doused with my heavy hand of sugar. It was tasteless like my life.


January 2008 excerpt (Talk to Me)
Introducing Noel Richardson, 31 years old, CEO of a non-profit organization, hazel eyes, 6'3", 210 pounds, and deaf. I’m here for the deaf ministry, I signed, hoping the man understood me.As if summons, an elderly usher appeared dressed in a faded black suit, white gloves, and a purple bow tie. After bowing like a butler, he did an about face. I imagined his heels clicked as he walked away. I took that as my cue to follow. Entering the sanctuary, the size overpowered me. It was spacious with purple cushions and eye-catching crystal chandeliers, sparkling like night stars.Deep-purple carpet was so plush, I felt guilty for wearing shoes. Numerous ushers patrolled three aisles as if they were programmable toy soldiers. Others were sprinkled throughout the sanctuary.I grimaced as my escort guided me to my seat. Why did visitors always have to be paraded to the front line? I didn’t have to guess that the four roped-off pews were the designated deaf area. Thanking the usher, I shook off my black cashmere coat and draped it over my arm. Scooting inside the pew, I laid it and my Bible down.After nodding to those already there, I sat and bowed my head. “Lord, I thank You for leading me to this place, and blessing me through the years. Lord, please tell me if this is where you want me to be, Amen.” Opening my eyes, I stretched my legs and wondered if my comrades were members or fellow curious visitors.Flexing my muscle, I crossed my arms, and waited for the show to begin. I have to be honest. I wasn’t expecting to be impressed because everyone who called themselves interpreters weren’t polished nor did they enjoyed the communication. It was a job, a well-paid one at that. As a first-time visitor, I made note of my surroundings. Despite the grandeur, it had a cozy feel.The next thing that caught my eyes were the people crammed into a three-level stadium style seating--the choir several feet behind the podium. Then two women who appeared in the doorway stole my attention.From a distance, neither was bad looking. The taller one was dressed to showcase her endowment, and I admired her bountiful assets. Her hair was straight and poured over her shoulders as a silver-colored dress clutched her body. Shimmer stockings hinted of tone legs. Her shoes' heels were tall and thick.The other woman--the shorter one--seemed to possess a flair for creativity. She snatched my attention and challenged me to look away if I could. That's when I noticed her choice of colors. I didn't know red and brown matched. I smirked at the red scarf that attempted to restrain rebellious curls. Red boots raced and hid under a brown leather skirt. A short-waist brown leather jacket dared a red collar and red-patch work on the elbows. If nothing else, her attire showed she had confidence.I closed my eyes to remind myself where I sat. Yes, I was in church, but God created men as visual beings to appreciate His handiwork. A beautiful woman was worth admiring. I inhaled a deep, measured breath.The pair chatted as they walked, throwing air kisses, shaking hands, and returning waves to church members. Eventually they approached the roped-off pews and stopped. Briefly, they made eye contact with the group as they seemed to take a head count. The tall sister’s eyes met mine a second and third time.Finally I looked away, thinking, I'm trying to behave. I did come for the Word not a woman. In sync, they sat in folding chairs facing us. Okay, show me what ya got, I smirked. Unfortunately the endowed interpreter did. She yawned wide enough for a dental exam as her eyes darted around the sanctuary. Was she bored already? I wondered. That was not a good sign. So I focused on the shorter "express-yourself" woman as she bowed her head in prayer. The choir stood, opened their mouths, and swayed to sounds that prohibited to one of my five senses. I could feel the powerful vibrations under my feet. My heart pounded in harmony. Masterfully, that interpreter moved her fingers,telling me a story that dared my eyes to blink or turn away.

PROLOGUE
On Thanksgiving Day, November 27th at nine-thirty in the morning, I fell in love. It was swift and irrevocable. Common sense was hopeless. Without warning or fanfare, I had succumbed to Mackenzie Norton’s allure. Love is such a strange emotion—never enough time to savor all the sweet moments. It’s hindsight now that I’ve lost her.Sometimes the memories taunt me, other times they provide comfort. When my eyes close, Mackenzie appears. Her brown eyes twinkled, causing a sexy glow to spread across her face. Her hypnotic trance released strong vibes that were undeniable. She was such a puzzle, allowing me the pleasure of seeing her pieces fit. Inside the church walls, she was sober. With me, her mischievous antics would issue challenges.Mackenzie. The way she commanded her body possessed my senses. Thank you, God, for my eyes to see. With deliberate movements, Mackenzie’s hands beckoned to me, sprinkling magic along the way. Long slender arms danced with the grace of a swan.For initial five-seconds I laid eyes on her, I had dismissed her until she demanded my attention without her trying. I quickly withdrew my opinion that she wasn’t a head-turner. A gentle spirit tempered her powerful personality. Yes, Mackenzie’s magnetism was undeniable. She became my teacher, and I a willing student. I chuckle at the memories. At first, we could’ve spoken, but we enjoyed the silent communication.Mackenzie had the most enchanting smile. Ah! Did I mention her lips? They were my worst distraction and her best assets—shapely and full in a natural pout. They moved like a musician manipulating his instruments. Have I mentioned she was feisty and committed to her convictions?Glistening skin reminded me of wet brown sugar—my attraction. A head of messy curls was her crowning glory. On any other woman, the look would’ve been scary. Mackenzie made it stylish as it cuddled her oval face.Whoever dared utter that stupid saying, men aren’t perfect? Well, they hadn’t seen a woman named Mackenzie. The compact five-feet-four-inch woman was perfect.During our quiet time, we didn’t blink twice as we mouthed our promises to each other. We honored each word with sincerity and care, vowing not to break one. It happened anyway. Mackenzie was to blame, or maybe it was I.One evening we indulged in quietness. Watching the sunset at a nearly deserted playground, I spoke aloud a wish as I nudged Mackenzie on a swing. “I miss dancing. More than anything I wish we could dance the night away.”Mackenzie dug her heels into the ground, halting the swing. Turning around, she finger-kissed the sadness, disappointment, and pain out of my eyes. “I promise, Noel, one day we’ll dance.”I didn’t hear her, but I knew she whispered because she always touched me when she did. Now our chance will never come. I hate broken promises. At least God is dependable with His promises.It had nothing to do with me being one of twenty-eight million Americans classified as oral deaf, Deaf, or hearing-impaired. Sixteen years earlier, doctors delivered the tragic news to my parents, family, and friends. I had loss hearing. They were in shock. My mother cried. My dad temporarily withdrew, lacking the skills to communicate with me. My youngest brother, Caleb, thought I had become a robot, but my older brother, Pierce, embraced my new world and me. His compassion helped to guide the Richardsons to a place of mental and physical recovery.Therefore after all the ENT doctors’ testing, surgery, and the audiologists’ retesting were done, I was labeled as “late deafened adult” that meant I wasn’t part of the “Deaf culture” who fought to remain Deaf until they died. Hierarchy existed within the Deaf culture. So the final song I heard was Donna Summer’s Last Dance. I guess it truly was my rhythmic groove.Well, the pity party is officially over. I’ve moved on. For me, like many others, external influences were the culprit for my deafness, not genetic flaws or pregnancy complications. I’m lucky; no, I’m blessed to be alive, unlike Keith Morrow. His parents couldn’t cope with losing their only child in a freak explosion near a fireworks plant.Anyway, I appreciate interpreters, and grew accustomed to them signing at events, but it was Mackenzie’s contagious enthusiasm that sucked me into a storm, whirling me into the eye of the hurricane. Never had I witnessed an interpreter wrapped up in so much pleasure and total involvement in communicating what was happening around me. Not only did I see and feel; Mackenzie made me believe I could hear the choir’s rendition of My Life Is in Your Hands, a Kirk Franklin original after my deafness. Somehow, my mind played tricks on me as I listened to the instruments.My heart jumped at thunderous rumble inflicted by Mackenzie’s imaginary wooden stick, pounding invisible drums and tapping fictitious cymbals. With confidence, her fingers stroked pretend piano keys. Her expression, most humorous, depicted the altos’ deep voices and the sopranos’ melodious high pitches. Who knew that when I stepped into the God’s Grace Apostolic Church, I would enter utopia? Suddenly, I felt like praising God for what I had—my eyes to gaze, hands to enjoy her soft skin, and a heart that throbbed faster when she was close. At that moment, for some unexplained reason, I thanked God that I was deaf. Can you believe that? Thanking God for allowing the worst event to happen in my life to make me the happiest. How else would I’ve met a woman whose love was fierce and unconditional? Then months after our meeting, I, Noel Richardson, lost Mackenzie Norton.

RT BOOKLOVERS Convention

For the past three years, I have attended the RT BOOKLOVERS Convention. This year it's in Pittsburgh. I would like to encourage readers, aspiring writers, and authors to attend. Why? Food, parties, and authors.The BOOKLOVERS Convention will feature more than 300 authors who will sign copies of their books on Saturday, April 19th, and 1000 readers from across the world.
Plus, Eric Jerome Dickey is the guest speaker at the Awards Luncheon.
Mingle with Heather Graham, Christina Skye, Brenda Jackson, and others.
The Mr. Romance Competition is a hoot!! Cover model, Fred Williams, who will be featured on my next book, Talk to Me, Urban Christian, november 2008.

Don't forget the chance to meet with publishers, agents, and editors.Check out the BOOKLOVERS Convention website at www.rtconvention.com.