The Purpose of My Books!

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Toni Morrison

Though I will be the first to admit that I am not a particular fan of Toni Morrison’s works, I agree wholeheartedly with her stance about writing. Before I even read this quote, I knew what type of books I wanted to read and wrote them–with the hope that I was not the only one who wanted to read–wholesome literature–devoid of voyeuristic scenes and profanity.

You see, as much as I love mysteries and romance novels, I started avoiding most of those on the market. Most of the suspense and thriller novels are so laced with profanity that I can’t get past the first chapter. When that happens, I simply stop reading. The same is true of some of the books that people are trying to pass off as romance, when they’re actually only about sex.

I’m not trying to tell other people what to write or how to write it, but I won’t read literature that opposes my faith and my stance with moral issues.

Therefore, I’ve written a number of books–that are romantic in nature without making the reader feel like they’re taking part in a perverse act–and have an actual story line, with lovable characters and those the reader can hate as well.

The suspense and thriller novels–are filled with all the stuff we love–intrigue, murder, human trafficking, kidnapping, but no profanity and the characters have developed “alternate” expressions that work well when they are emotionally charged.

I want to see a return of moral values and structures that all can read in the literature produced. So I have accomplished–at least I think I have–this goal with my books. Why am I saying this now? An author on Twitter posted that Indie Publishers should be blogging about their books, not their blogs. I agree and here I am.

I’d love to know what you think–regarding my purpose.  Did I accomplish my purpose or am I just whistling in the clouds of hope?

There are two fantasies for kids and I’m working on the third in the series. In these books, kids are empowered to overcome good with evil by relying upon innate powers within them– myBook.to/SuperTweens and myBook.to/OtherSide.  Both were written to empower kids between the ages of 10 and 12 and beyond with the latest effort–not yet available. Kids need all the encouragement they can get to do the right thing and to know others see them as worthy and not just a nuisance to be tolerated.

The suspense/thriller works are: myBook.to/Sword about a serial killer in a small town in South Carolina. I introduce Tyson and Tiffany as they team up to find the serial killer. In the second book myBook.to/TNT Tyson is working for the FBI and Tiffany is battling demons from her past, but it is with the struggle they discover who’s kidnapping mentally challenged girls and are able to defuse all the bombs the crazy Russian plants, except one. In  myBook.to/ElevatedHijinks Tyson and Tiffany and their team must find Swatere’s kids who have been kidnapped as revenge against Tiffany. They find the kids, but will a blazing mountain fire defeat their attempt to rescue them?

Two of the romance novels are based upon two ministers who meet over the phone and begin the journey that is overwhelmed with obstacles. myBook.to/Gifts begins the story, but even after they overcome the barriers set before them, others attempt to cloud the issues in myBook.to/Storms.  The last romance is more secular in nature, but still provides insight into matters of the heart and love without being erotically perverse. There is a wonderful story line in myBook.to/MoneyTalks about love, trust and betrayal.

There are many more found on Amazon–mostly Christian Living and can be accessed through this link  viewAuthor.at/maryglobal.  My goal with this post is to entice you to read my books and let me know if I have accomplished my purpose.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

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Thanks For The Support!

Over a year ago, I was praying my writing and the Lord showed me that He would have 1 + million readers read my books. Well, of course He didn’t share His timeline, but I’m so grateful to those who are hearing Him speak to their hearts and we’re getting closer each day. My God is an awesome God and He is more than able to fulfill His promises to us and through us!

So, for those who are reading my books–Thank you! For those who haven’t–what are you waiting for–you’re missing out on good, wholesome literature–Mystery with no profanity or violence, Christian Romance with no porn, Christian literature clarifying scripture, poetry, and fantasy for kids–I’m writing so there is something for everyone!

Reading–research has shown–increases literacy and for the older generation, helps to allay the onset of dementia or Alzheimer disease.

So, let’s get away from the television and curl up with a good book.

http://www.amazon.com/Mary-M-Hall-Rayford/e/B00BAW31CQ/

Deceptive Storms (excerpt 1)

She sat with a glass of wine in her hands, swirling the burgundy liquid slowly, reflecting, contemplating her life.  Taking a luxurious sip, she sighed and wished for more than what she had.  More money, more house, more of a man, more happiness—just more of everything.  Leaning back on the black leather chaise in her living room, she closed her eyes, glass still in hand.  Her thoughts vacillated between what was and how she was going to fast forward.

“If I could just shake the past and move on, I’d be alright,” she thought.  “I just need to shake the past.”

Her past was a multicolored debacle.  One misstep after the other.  She tried hard to think about the last time she had actually done anything right.  She couldn’t remember.  Brain cells only seemed to recall the squirmy situations she had created or fallen into.  Fallen into—with deliberation.  She shook her head at her own recriminations.  Deciding to traipse down memory lane, she focused on the first real love of her life—the love that had left her dangling for years and finally cut off her emotions to the quick.  She had loved the wrong man as so many before her had done, but she just knew—Brian was the only man worthy of her love.  The real tragedy was that Brian was from Loser Street—and just didn’t know how to get off of it.  Appearances can certainly be deceiving.  Hefty and handsome as any movie star, Brian strolled into Charleston Café with his friends, easily the center of attention.

She had seated them at the best table in the house—near a window so they could keep an eye on the object of their discussion—the latest fast car purchased by the racing car company that was based in town.  Sleek, low to the ground, shiny black with yellow pinstripes and the company sponsor listed on the side, it was something to behold.  Apparently, the three men discussing the car thought so, too.  She heard someone say something about the most “horsepower that was legal” and that was as much as she needed to hear.  She really wanted to meet the man behind the smile and the talk.

Standing at their table waiting to take their order, her eyes shifted from one to another.  The other two men were slightly older than the man talking and she could quickly detect that the younger man was trying to convince the other two to do something.  After taking their order, she deliberately brushed against the younger man, knowing he would have to pay attention, but he didn’t.  He moved slightly and kept talking.  After she had placed their drinks on the table, he glanced at her briefly and nodded.  She perceived the nod as recognition and invitation to something later.

When they had finished their meal, the younger man eagerly picked up the check while the older men smiled, shaking each other’s hands, ready to go their separate ways.

“Brian,” she heard one of the men say, “you’ve got yourself a deal.  Come into the office tomorrow and we’ll sign the paperwork.  It’s nice doing business with you.”  They left Brian in the Café.  She had asked if he’d like for her to take the payment to the cashier, but he said no and ordered a cup of coffee.  He leaned back in the chair and openly appraised the woman in front of him.  Heat began to crawl from her toes to her face under his scrutiny, but she smiled as he apparently decided he liked what he saw.

He rose from the table and left her a tip with a note.  A telephone number.  A number that would eventually lead to more heartache than she could have ever imagined.

She had called him after her shift ended and they made plans for dinner and a movie.  The dinner and the movie were good, but his conversation was mesmerizing.  She couldn’t stop listening to him and encouraged him to keep talking.

He was one of eight children, his mother was not very healthy and his dad was a truck driver, always on the road.  When he finished school, he decided that he did not like his life and was determined to recreate himself.  He left the hollow that he had grown up in and went to Texas.  There he attended college, but became more involved with racing than books.  When he discovered that he had a knack for driving fast cars, he quickly adapted by attending the races and eventually got a chance to show what he could do.

He left ten experienced drivers in the dust during his first race.  No one watching understood how he had managed it, but he had easily won the race and a few hundred dollars.  The race itself was addictive, but the money was the jolt that kept him going.  He thought he had finally found his niche in life.  Not only was he good at racing the cars, he was an expert at finding investors to sponsor him in races.  He loved the feel and the smell of the cars, but he loved the stench of the jumpsuits after a race.   More importantly, he loved the attention he got wherever he went.

“Oh yeah,” she remembered, he loved the attention.  In the three years they dated, she could barely keep him focused on their relationship because of all the attention he received by racing.  Every where they went, people wanted to talk to them.  Alone time was seldom, but he seemed to enjoy her company and she was totally lost to him.   Lost—that’s a word she would remember for a long time.

She thought they were on their way to a march down the aisles when she discovered that he was on his way—to another woman.  She didn’t see it coming.  Never had a clue.  The connecting line had been cut and she fell with a clump, thump, and a bump—heartbroken and hell-bent on revenge.

Available on http://www.amazon.com and http://www.smashwords.com  Enjoy and review!

Deceptive Storms!

storm cvrThis is the cover of my new book–Deceptive Storms.  In life, we face all types of storms–emotional as well as natural.  D’Cerner and Cal (from My Father’s Gift) have embarked on a new ministry in a new location and as can be expected, have to learn to weather all types of storms.  Through all the storms–losses and revelations–they maintain their trust in God.  Book will be available within the next two weeks.  Working hard to revise and edit now!  Book Trailer available next week!  Hope you will enjoy!

By the way, I really welcome your comments about the cover. Yea or Nay and why if you’d like to include.

Excerpt–When Money Talks 2

Mara stayed just long enough to inquire if there was anything she could help others with and being told no, prepared to leave.  As she walked through the lobby, going towards the door, Eric came from Bonnie’s office and they both waited for the security guard to unlock the door so they could leave.

“So, how did the first day go?” Eric asked.

“It went well,” Mara responded, no more cordial than she was earlier and not really looking at him.  She was fidgety, impatiently waiting for the security guard.

Eric took a really good look at her, appraising her from head to toe.  He noted how sophisticated she looked in the navy blue suit she wore, with a red silk blouse and matching red heels.  He wondered why she was so impatient and then it occurred to him, she might have someone waiting for her at home.  Even that thought didn’t deter him from thinking about how much he appreciated her exquisite good looks.

“I’m glad.  I hope every day goes well for you.  I understand you’re from Atlanta.  Why did you decide to move to Houston?”

“I needed a change,” Mara replied, exasperated with the question.  “Is that good enough for you?”

“Whoa!  I didn’t mean to offend you,” Eric apologized. “I was just trying to hold polite conversation while we wait.”

At that moment, the security guard returned from wherever he had been and unlocked the door.  As they walked out into the early evening heat onto a bustling sidewalk of people, Eric turned to tell her good-bye, but she was walking in the opposite direction. For a second or two, he started to let her go without any further attempt to say anything to her, but then decided he wanted to know what was eating at her, so he followed her around the corner of the building.

“Mara,” Eric called after her, “Could you wait just a moment?”

Mara stopped and turned around, really irritated now.  She couldn’t imagine what he could have to say to her and she certainly didn’t have anything to say to him.  While she was pondering what he could want, he caught up with her.

“Mara, have I offended you by anything I said?” Eric asked as he stopped and stood in front of her.

“Not really,” she replied. “I just don’t like people asking me questions that are none of their business.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nosy, just friendly.  That’s the way Texans are.  We are very friendly people, you know,” he said smiling, sensing how uncomfortable she was and wanting to make her feel at ease with him.

Mara stood and stared at the man in front of her.  Eric had a stocky, muscular build, was over six feet tall, and wore his dark wavy hair cut short.  His smile revealed slightly imperfect white teeth and changed his demeanor from somber to playful.  Listening to him make an appeal about Texans being friendly made her smile.  She visibly relaxed, at least for a moment.

“Eric, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be rude.  It’s just that moving here, finding a job, and being alone without friends or family has made me a little tense.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” she apologized.

There was a lost sheep air about her that tugged at Eric’s heart.  As she stood there looking up at him, waiting for him to accept her apology, he saw a wealth of wisdom that did not belong in the eyes of one so young—a wisdom that could only come from the experience of tragedy.  He noticed her long mahogany hair framing her exquisitely shaped face—somewhere between being an oval and pear-shaped, her wide-set oval eyes and pert little nose.  Her full lips were now almost turned down in the cutest frown he had ever seen.  He wanted to get to know her.

“Let’s start all over again.  Hi, my name is Eric Harrison and I’m very pleased to meet you Miss…,” he said holding out his hand waiting for her to fill in the missing name.

“Mara Mooring,” she responded holding out her own hand and smiling at him.  I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Well, since we are so pleased to meet one another, would I seem forward if I offered to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked, grinning now at their little game.

 

Available soon as an ebook on amazon.com.  You’re going to love it–a bit of a departure from what I normally write–it is hot and steamy.  Watch for it within the next 72 hours.

Excerpt-When Money Talks

At twenty-two years old, she thought the entire world was hers to explore at her leisure and nothing was impossible for her achieve.  Today, she was preparing a candlelight dinner for two, complete with a marvelous French Bordeaux.  She had been planning this surprise for her fiancé for days. This would be their last dinner together as an unmarried couple.  After tonight, she was staying in her parent’s home until after the wedding when she could move into his tastefully decorated apartment. She was deliriously happy and excited as she got off the elevator and stood in front of his apartment door.  With the key he had given her, she opened the door and practically floated in as she noiselessly closed the door behind her.  She smiled as she thought about sharing the apartment with him.

The living room was spacious and not a hint of pretension dwelled there.  The white Corinthian leather couch and matching chair were perfectly centered in the middle of the room and were accentuated with matching gray smoked-topped glass tables.  The knee level coffee table sat between the couch and a gray-upholstered recliner while two other tables were sentries at opposite ends of the couch.  The adjacent dining area boasted a beautiful white-topped cherry wood table with matching plush padded chairs.  The kitchen was just big enough to maneuver from the stove to the sink without walking into another person.  The apartment-sized refrigerator was tucked away in the corner which gave the impression of much more room.  Hanging in the hallway were two pictures of a serene village with children playing and puppies sleeping.

A smile played upon her lips as she thought about the master bedroom. The king-sized circular bed with its bronze-colored comforter, covering matching silk sheets had an attached headboard that boasted two built-in shelves filled with books, a radio, and an overhead lamp.  A triple-walnut stained dresser  with a sculpted framed mirror was positioned in front of the bed and to the left in a corner, a large walnut-stained open-faced cabinet held his television and entertainment center.  As she stood surveying the area she could see, she mentally checked off the days.  She sighed wistfully as she turned the corner from the hallway towards the kitchen.  Her head inclined for a moment when she thought she heard a noise and thinking that James had left on the radio in the bedroom, she put the down the bag of groceries in the floor and headed for the bedroom.

The French vanilla-colored carpet beneath her feet was so thick she felt as though she was sinking with each step as she walked down the hallway to the bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar and when she pushed it open, she barely contained the scream that rose from her belly, constricting her throat muscles.  She fell back against the wall and had to use it to support her buckling legs.  A wave of nausea swept over her and almost caused her to faint.  She stood in the room against the wall seemingly mesmerized by the flailing bodies in the bed in front of her.  Her beloved fiancé and best friend Karen were so intent in their love-fest they didn’t hear her come in and didn’t realize she was in the room until she finally allowed the bubbling scream freedom.

They jerked in surprise at seeing at there, with their mouths hanging open, they watched her and saw the horror she felt mirrored in her eyes.  For a moment, they were also frozen into immobility, too filled with guilt to react immediately.  Then, as she approached the bed, James was catapulted into action, attempting to cover them with a tangled silk sheet.

“M.m.mara!  What are you doing here?” he stammered.