Interview with romance author Annette Bower

Today’s special guest is romance author Annette Bower to chat with me about her new sweet contemporary romance, Oranges for Miranda.

During her virtual book tour, Annette will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit her other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:
Annette believes home is where her stories percolate. And her home is a condo where she watches the urban life below, airplanes arrive and depart at the international airport, and the seasons change on farmland near the horizon. Annette travels extensively but always returns home to Regina, Saskatchewan. Whether at home or away, and even though directions are always a challenge, she wanders the streets, parks, and lanes observing how people live, love, and care for one another. Your way of sitting, holding hands, the way you tilt your head, or a t-shirt you wear may end up in one of her stories.

On her first trip to Olhos de Água, a fishing village in Portugal, she stopped at a café where the proprietors were a mother and daughter. Annette sat at the outdoor blue and white tiled table and ordered an espresso and brandy. While the sun warmed her back, she opened her new notebook. The older woman walked by carrying a basket, tipped her head toward Annette’s blank page, and shrugged. When black-laced heeled shoes struck the tile, and the scent of just-picked clementine oranges interrupted Annette’s writing, the woman plunked three oranges at the edge of her page. Annette cherishes this gift from one woman to another. Recently, Annette travels with an accompanying Orange and shares pictures on Social media as her way of honoring those Portuguese women. A version of this event appears in her new novel, Oranges for Miranda.

During another trip, while searching for an address in Malaga, Spain, she asked a well-dressed man carrying a floral paper-wrapped bouquet if he spoke English? Would he direct her to the address? With impeccable English, he suggested she walk with him. They chatted, and she discovered he was a lawyer in his final days of retiring. Finally, she asked to whom he was giving the flowers. He lifted the cover to reveal a large crucifix. This detail has not appeared in a story yet.

In a coffee shop, looking south between glass tower office buildings, she could be anywhere in the world. However, she is home watching people on Eleventh Avenue run for buses, bring tea to a panhandler, and holding mittened hands while bending into the wind.

Annette uses experiences she gathered as a nurse, town administrator, elected official, traveller, and member of a large extended family to inform her stories because writing is her joy.

Annette Bower is a Soul Mate Publishing author of five contemporary romance novels. Her novel Fearless Destiny was first runner-up in the 2017 Sweet Contemporary RONE awards and winner of the Raven Award. Her novel Ponytails and Promises was a finalist in the 2020 RONE Awards and is the 2020 winner of the Raven Award.

Welcome, Annette. Please tell us about your current release.
Good morning Lisa, thank you for hosting this blog featuring Oranges for Miranda, a contemporary romance novel. I wrote this story because I wanted to explore a woman ahead of her time when she chose to establish an award-winning real estate company and decided to be a single mother utilizing sperm donors when she was young and had energy. She knew she could accomplish these two things well. Now she is retired, and her children are running the business. So how does a woman discover who she is without her career and children? First, Miranda leaves the country because she will not allow her successful adult children to fly without her input. Second, she bumps heads with a handsome local man who agrees to show her around.

What inspired you to write this book?
A gift of oranges was the impetus for this story. I had gone to a café in Albufeira, Portugal and opened a new notebook with blank pages. An older Portuguese woman brought me freshly picked clementine oranges as if she knew I needed a show of support to continue on my writing path. Some women seem to understand when a kind gesture is required, and they give it.

 

Excerpt from Oranges for Miranda:
Tucking her oranges into the pocket of her billowy trousers, she toed off her shoes, removed her socks, and padded down the stairs and onto the beach. A rock, eroded and pocked from the wind and seas, was the perfect place to stop. With her toes in the sand and her eyes closed, the scent of salt and the sound of seabirds engulfed her. A wave lapped cold over her feet. Miranda lifted an orange to her cheek.

As a shadow blocked the warm sun, her body momentarily chilled. A deep voice whispered close to her ear, “Por favor, Senhora.”

Her eyes flew open, and she jumped away from the sound. Her shoes slipped from her hand, and she reached to catch them at the same time the man did. They bumped heads, but his hands were quicker and larger and rescued her shoes seconds before the ocean foam of a retreating wave could swallow them whole.

Miranda didn’t know whether to rub her head, reach for her shoes, apologize, or sink into the sand in mortification. “I’m sorry,” she stammered.

“I must apologize to you. My head is so much bigger and harder. Are you okay? You aren’t dizzy. Come, let’s sit over here on the rocks.” Long, thick fingers curled around her elbow as she allowed him to guide her.

When he let go of her arm, he swiped sand away from the surface of a rock and then motioned her to sit. Her orange. Miranda turned and saw her orange lying in the sand at the base of the rock she had been leaning against. She ran back and scooped it up before the next wave would have taken it out to sea. She tucked it in her pocket along with the other one.

Walking back, she surveyed the man who had scared her, bumped her head and then shepherded her to safety. Tall, with a large frame and short-cropped, thick hair graying at the temples. He wore a golf shirt, shorts, and sandals. He appeared to be a visitor, too. But why had he spoken to her at all?

“Miranda.” She stretched out her hand.

His hands were hard. “Renato.” The lines around his brown eyes were crinkled. “Renato Monteiro.”

“Was I in danger?”

 

What exciting story are you working on next?
I’m playing with a story about a woman, Keanna. Her parents hoped she was male so they could name her after their favorite actor, Keanu Reeves. Keanna is a Jill of many trades but master of none. After high school, Keanna dropped off the education path and instead achieved certificates, and job experiences but no fancy degree. What does her future look like? I am also contemplating having a deaf character. I am the adult child of a deaf parent. I do not want to tell my story, but I would like to share my experiences in fiction.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Every time I’m deep into my writing, my husband comes into my office and begins talking to me, and I jump out of my skin. Perhaps I’m not a writer but a creator. I am not a confident writer. I need proof of publication acceptance.

Do you write full-time?
I write sporadically. When I begin a project, I think, I research I jot notes. Then I prefer a retreat or a writers’ group challenge to give me a reason to sit for long periods and get the story down on paper.

I am married, a mother, grandmother, cousin, friend and have aged parents. I write, but then I have to care for someone, play with someone, drive someone, and have time to meet with friends. I am social.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I review what I have written by the read-aloud feature on my computer. I seem to learn better by listening.

When other writers want to contemplate a story problem or idea they might go into nature. I go to a shop or a mall. I don’t have to purchase anything. Instead, I observe people and absorb the beauty of the colors, textures, and sounds.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
When I was in grade 5, a group of girls would knock on the convent door and accompany our teacher back to school. While we were lined up on the stairs waiting for the bell, Sister Henry asked us what we wanted to be one day. The other girls answered a nun. I answered a nurse. And then I said, “We all want to be something that begins with n.” I did become a nurse and used that experience in my storytelling and to many doctors’ chagrin.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
My parents are 97 and 98. So there is longevity in my family. I started writing later than most authors, and I hope to continue writing for a very long time.

I have travelled with an orange (both natural and ceramic) as a substitute travelling gnome in the last few years. I post pictures on my social media. So I will share a few photos with you.

I hope you join Miranda while she discovers who she can be in this third act of life. Thank you for reading about me and Miranda and Ren.

Links:
Website | Facebook | Amazon | Twitter

Thanks for being here today, Annette.

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