Category: Book Hooks, Marketing for Romance Writers

TURN THE LIGHT ON By Pat Garcia @pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #contemporaryromance #MFRWBookHooks

Hello Everyone,

TURN THE LIGHT ON WAS MY VERY FIRST PUBLISHED Short Story. I will never forget the feeling of relief that came with finally pushing it out into the world, and the joy is still there. 

What impressed me the most about the book was the manuscript itself, the book cover, and the book trailer. All three elements present the strength of a southern black woman and touch on the reality of a daring and courageous woman that many people don’t see, thereby challenging the readers’ perspectives. 

TURN THE LIGHT ON

Fear engulfed her. What if he was not only a counter-terrorist, but was also using her to launder money? Her hands shook as she considered the consequences of the mistakes she’d made and what could happen to her. She didn’t relish standing before a disbelieving judge trying to explain her stupidity. 

Macey grunted, causing Della to uncross her legs and lean in closer to her boss’s desk. She had hoped Macey would simply speak her mind instead of grunting and bobbing her head back and forth, while examining her bank statements. 

Never again will I forsake my principles because of a man with sad, lonely eyes.

Macey’ heavy sigh shattered Della’s thoughts. Della tensed, not knowing what to expect. 

“Della, your story is preposterous. No…let me say it would be truly unbelievable if I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes.  Macey pointed at the bank statements on her desk. “So, tell me what do you plan to do? Do you really think he’s the man that’s been depositing the money into your account? And how are you going to find him since you don’t even know him name, for heaven’s sake?”

TURN THE LIGHT ON is available on all Amazon outlets.

Have a lovely day and take care. 

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

Caged Birds Don’t Sing By Pat Garcia,

@pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #Contemporaryromance #MFRWBookHooks

Hello, Everyone,

I am still working on my Flash Fiction Anthology. I am cleaning up and editing some of the stories intensively before I send them to my editor, just in case you see any repeats. The snippet below is one I am editing before sending it to my editor.

For your information, we switched to Standard Time here in Europe on Sunday, October 26, 2025, and this kid was happy.

Wishing all of you a lovely rest of the week.

Shalom Shalom

CAGED BIRDS DON’T SING BY PAT GARCIA, OCTOBER 28, 2025

The clock ticked away the minutes, and Kathie Mae’s heartbeat quickened with every passing beat.
Soon, Caesar would be home. Her musing would have to stop in an hour, and she would have to drag her wandering mind from her past and concentrate on where she was in the present.  
She would have never thought that having everything money could buy meant her joy would be buried in the graveyard of depression.
Louisa, their maid, knocked softly on the living room door.
“Come in.”
“I don’t mean to disturb you, but I’ll be leaving soon. Is there anything else you want me to do?”
“No,” Kathie Mae said, giving her a hollow smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “What are you going to do this Sunday?”
“I’m going to do what I do here every Sunday,” Louisa said. “Clean my house.”
Kathie Mae grunted. She’d talked to Cesare about reducing Louisa’s days to three times a week. They didn’t need her. In fact, they didn’t need her two times a week, but he’d demanded she come every day except Sunday. He’d looked at her like she was a child and explained to her that when he returned home, he wanted to see an orderly, well-kept house without any clutter. That was when she’d begun to notice that well-kept meant everything, including her.

Please visit the other blog participants. You will find them engaging and our writing covers different aspects of Romance. Thank you.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=9362

A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES TWO PEOPLE FOREVER By Pat Garcia @pat_garcia patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-0rg.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #contemooraryromance #MFRWBookHooks

Hello, Everyone,

Since I have returned, I have been having problems with my Mac. I hope everything goes well so that I am able to visit all our blogs on Wednesday.

Today, I am presenting another snippet of A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES TWO PEOPLE FOREVER.

Have a lovely day.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=9320

A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES 2 PEOPLE FOREVER BY Pat Garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @amwriting @rrbc-org.bsky.social #romancereader #writingjourney #MFRWHooks #BlogHP #FreePromo #Contemporaryromance #women’sfiction

Hello Everyone,
I returned from my sudden vacation with the necessity to work through the trauma of experiencing four deaths in three months. It’s something that I don’t wish on anyone. I’m back to what I love to do, now, and that is writing.

Continuing with my unreleased Flash Fiction Anthology, here is my first snippet from A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES TWO PEOPLE FOREVER.
Have a lovely day,

Shalom shalom

Giuseppe’s right ear moved upward. Robust laughter almost shattered his eardrum.

Could Christmas Eve bring him such a massive sweet gift? 

The laughter vibrated through his entire body, making him tremble. Putting down his pool stick, he walked to the dining area to see who had released the wavelength of the full-bodied laugh that caused his ear to move.

Giuseppe, (Sep), walked to the door that led out into the dining area. He noticed the table across the floor opposite him clothed in candlelight.  There he saw her.  Three women were sitting at a table listening intently to a dark, brown-skinned woman, caught up in whatever she was saying. Sep zoned in on her with his eyes. With his photographic memory, he took pictures, marking the small, chiseled nose and thick lips that stood out on her face.  Seized by the vocal vibrations of her voice, he wondered how the chubby-sized woman would react if he covered her lips with his mouth. Would she stare at him with fright in her eyes, thinking that he was some kind of monster or a freak whose face had been put together crookedly? 

https://patgarciaauthor.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=9259&action=edit

CAGED BIRDS DON’T SING By Pat Garcia

@pat_garcia, @patgarcia.bsky.social, #MFRWBookHooks, @amwriting, @women’sfiction, #romancereaders, @rrbc-org.bsky.social

Hello, Everyone,

I’m continuing with a new snippet that will appear in my Anthology that will be released in the winter of 2026.

Have a lovely day.

Shalom shalom

CAGED BIRDS DON’T SING

Caged Birds Don’t Sing

Kathie Mae sat and stared at her surroundings; everything was in place just like Caesar liked it.
The cream-colored sofa was positioned at a right angle, three meters away from the large floor-to-ceiling window that faced the street before their house. The brightness of the sun on the mahogany Boersendorfer displayed its ivory black and white keys.
.
Katheie Mae looked at the portrait that hung above the piano and examined the eyes of the woman she no longer knew. The eyes in the picture were brighter, livelier, and filled with hope. Where had all that gone?

Her heartbeat quickened with every passing minute that the grandfather clock ticked.
Soon, Caesar would be home.  In an hour or two, she would have to stop her wandering mind from going back to the past. 
Kathie Mae never thought that having everything money could buy would curtail her life and lock her up in a cage.

THE GARDEN By Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-bsky.social #MFRWHooks #amwriting #romancereaders

Hello, Everyone,

This is another snippet from my flash anthology that will be released in Winter 2026.

The Garden


After many years of not being there, she’d returned and discovered how quickly things deteriorate when not lovingly taken care of.

As she stood looking at the poverty that had befallen the once so beautiful, proud garden, she wanted to cry.

She regarded the rundown house; no longer the centerpiece of roses, carnations, lilies, and yellow daisies.

Oh, how noble houses fall.

“What are you thinking, Linda?”

“You see that tree?” she answered, not quite knowing where to begin. “I used to climb it.”

Jordan laughed, “And you’re still climbing trees.”

Chuckling along with him, she said, “Yes, at my age, I’m still climbing trees. So, we’re here.  What do you expect from me?”

Jordan was the one who had encouraged them to return here. He was her husband, lover, and friend for the last seven years. Even though much younger than she was, he was concerned about her well-being than she was. Her nightmares had forced him to convince her to come back and face the demons that terrorize me.

“I hope you’ll appreciate your wealthy upbringing and let go,” Jordan said.

She regarded the garden surrounding the house in which she was born.  They were so different, Jordan and her, yet in many ways they were like homogenous barks linked together.

“You’re fantasizing again. You’re not old enough to request that I appreciate my upbringing. You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t, but I love you. That alone gives me the right to help you reconcile with your past and let go.”

“Look who’s talking?  The babe among us.”

“Yes, the babe by ten years and yet your husband.”

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=8925&action=edit

GOODBYE UNTIL BY PAT GARCIA @pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social @amwriting #romancereader #writingjourney #MFRWBlogHooks #contemporaryromance #women’sfiction

Hello Everyone,
I am presenting the third story in my Flash Fiction anthology, which is written as a trilogy within a series. This is story one in the trilogy where I introduce Beno and Zelda.
I hope you enjoy meeting them.
Have a lovely day and take care.
Shalom shalom

GOODBYE UNTIL

Storms raged within Zelda.  Even though seven years had passed, her dichotomous relationship with Beno still reverberated in her gut.  In contrast to what she had once thought, the young man who had overwhelmed her with his confessions of love was still with her, woven like yarn not around her heart but inside of it.  The intensity of their love grew stronger with each passing year.

True, she’d always been a joyful, adventurous, youthful person, a hopeless optimist who loved unconditionally, but when she’d turn fifty-five, she had hidden these characteristics. Her friends had told her such traits didn’t become a woman of her age. Meeting Beno changed that. He unlocked the door to those traits and threw away the key. Now, they bubbled over everywhere.  

Zelda contemplated as she sat at the table in the back corner, facing the street. That’s what lovers do at Café Terrace, Beno had once told her.  They order coffee, or a latte, sweetened with a shot of whiskey or Cognac, and wait for their loved ones.

Zelda sipped her coffee and closed her eyes.   “Delicious,” she murmured and opened her eyes to look at the crowd and see if she could pick Beno out. She would know him anywhere. 

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8864

THE RED WHEELBARROW BY Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-0rg.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #romancebooks #contemporaryromance #mfrwbookhooks

Hello, Everyone,

Today, I continue working on the Flash Fiction Anthology, which is scheduled for release in winter 2026. I have been privileged to participate in Flash Fiction contests over the years. I love Flash Fiction. I have learned a great deal about the Flash Fiction and short stories Genre from reading the works of Eudora Welty, Joyce Carol Oates, and the late Canadian writer Alice Munro. 

This is a snippet I wrote for The WEP, a writing organization founded by Denise Covey. I learned a lot from all the writers who participated in the contests. I hope you enjoy the snippet. 

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

 

EXCERPT:

Netta scrutinized the red wheelbarrow placed before the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room.

That wheelbarrow isn’t just attractive, but it’s a downright elixir for the soul.

She stood between the doorframe of the door, across the hall from the living room, admiring and examining the object of her curiosity. It stood so majestically before the window, in its bright red color, as if it were giving a queenly audience. She could have sworn the thing was smiling at her.  

Her husband, Jonathan, had turned it into a flower bed. He had chosen the living room to place it in, stating that he could admire his handy work when he returned home every evening.   

Netta shook her head. In the sunlight, the red wheelbarrow seemed to wink, but a wheelbarrow couldn’t wink, or could it?

She’d met Jonathan at her favorite Italian restaurant. She’d been sitting at a corner table with a big plate of spaghetti and a mozzarella and tomato salad. She’d just happened to look toward the entrance door of the restaurant and had gazed directly into the saddest but prettiest green eyes she’d ever seen. He’d stared back at her and then walked to her table and asked if she minded him sitting with her. Her mouth had been full of spaghetti, and the only way she could answer him without spilling the food out of her mouth had been to nod in acceptance.

Jonathan had ordered his meal after introducing himself and then began asking her questions, which made her hesitant to answer. When he’d asked her about her marital status, her eyebrows had furrowed, and her heartbeat had quickened. She’d not been so sure that it had been a good idea to let him sit at her table. Then, Jonathan assured her that he posed no danger to her. He was looking for someone to share his home with. He’d said he wanted the comfort of knowing that a trustworthy person was living with him. He needed a wife but not one to share his bed. Just a faithful wife to be there. He’d insisted on putting that clausal in their marriage agreement.  

At first, Netta didn’t believe or trust him. She thought he was some ax murderer or a cannibal who wanted to kill and eat her. Her vivid imagination had her packed away in plastic freezer bags in small portions in his freezer. With her chubby size thighs, big arms, and breasts, she was pretty sure Jonathan would have had enough meat for a year.

Netta didn’t understand why a man from out of nowhere was asking her, a stranger, to marry him. What she did know was that she said yes.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8598

The Flood That NO One Thought Would Come by Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-org.bsky.social @amwriting #romancebooks #readersfavorite

Hello, Everyone,

Here is a new snippet from my Anthology of Flash Fiction Stories that will be released in winter.

Wishing all of you a lovely day.

EXCERPT:

The man worked hard. He and his three sons hammered and pitched each wooden plank together. Sure, people thought he was crazy, but that didn’t disturb him. He closed his ears to what others said. If he were honest, and he was, he didn’t give a hoot. He hadn’t made it so far in life by seeking the approval of others.


The other day, his sons had informed him that the neighbors thought he was insane. He had laughed and told his sons to get to work before he fired them. After all, he was not only their father but their employer. No one would give them the amount of money for the work they did for him. They had no choice.
The father gazed down at the oldest son. The son looked up at the sun. The old man thought about the discussion they had had the night before. His sons thought he was a daydreamer and had invited a lawyer to his house without his permission. Their excuse for not telling him had him laughing. They wanted to rattle his brain.


After talking with him, the lawyer said that declaring their father insane wouldn’t work. Besides, the majority of the judges knew him too well as that no-nonsense man who spoke what he thought.
The sons’ wives were outraged, shouting they had become the laughingstock of the whole town, maybe the whole world. They were sick and tired of people pointing fingers at them. So, what, the old man said. They had tried to explain what it meant to them not to be among the popular crowd. They considered these people their friends.

Come to my house for tea; my wife would enjoy your company, he’d answered back.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8560

Boteè and The Strain Man By Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-org.bsky.social @4rwisawriters@bsky-social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #mfrwbooks

Hello, Everyone,
My Snippet for today continues with a second excerpt from Boteè and The Strain Man.

Hello, Everyone,

My Snippet for today continues with a second excerpt from Boteè and The Strain Man. 

EXCERPT

Boteè and the Strain Man

Strain Man played the first trio, and the spotlight appeared, covering her with light from her head to her feet. The music lifted her body, lying it flat as if she lay on a cot. The music raised her from the ground and lulled her into a trance. She looked up at the sky as he transported her with the musical notes he played. It was peaceful, and she began to snore. Strain Man moved into the second trio to wake her. The light over her head brightened, and she felt like she was lying on clouds of sheet music.

Suddenly, she lay before Strain Man. He bowed his head towards her. His cone-shaped head shone, and his metallic clothing looked absolutely chic. 

Strange, she thought, looking at him, there are no stars in heaven.

Strain Main replied with the third trio movement of The Stars and Stripes Forever. It was the only song he knew from her planet to communicate with her. “They’ll come. They’re just over the horizon.”

Boteè’s dark contralto answer made his face shine, “Amen, Amen, Amen.” She sang.

——-

Have a lovely rest of the week.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8519