Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Author, author... WELCOME TO PARADISE by Jennifer MacAire + #Giveaway all about it !!


Welcome Jennifer, so great to have you here with us.  Can you tell us a little about yourself?
Thank you – it’s great to ‘be’ here! I’m an American, my dad was in the marines and my mom was a teacher – and both worked for the military so we moved around a lot, going from NY where I was born, to California, to Samoa, to the Virgin Islands, where I went to high school. I graduated and moved to NYC where I started modeling and landed a job in Paris, where I shared an apartment with my friend Andie MacDowell, and where I met and married my husband! He plays polo, and after living in England, Argentina, and Florida, we moved back to France where we raised our three children.

Do real life events find their way into your stories?

All the time – I remember my first art teacher telling me to ‘draw what I know’ (horses, of course, lol) and I often find parts of my life creeping into my stories.

Do you ever mimic family members or people you know when you choose characters?

I will use speech patterns, sometimes physical descriptions, but my characters are all figments of my imagination.

Do you find yourself going back to the same inspiration for each story or is it always something different?

It’s always something different. Once I’ve written about something, I move on. Well, except for the seven book time-travel series about Alexander the Great (Time for Alexander)!

When do you write?  Early morning? During the day sometime or all day?  After the kids go to bed?

Anytime is good for me – late, early – whenever I have a deadline looming works the best though, lol.

How do you feel about marketing your book?

It’s challenging – and fun, and it’s the best part about writing (which is, frankly, kind of lonely) because I get to reach out directly and ‘meet’ the reader! It makes writing worth all the while!

What social sites do you feel work best for marketing?

I use my website, Facebook, and Twitter – although I admit to being a Twitter neophyte and a bit helpless about tweeting. I kind of have to force myself to tweet, lol.

Do you like to pitch stories to your publisher or do you wait until you have written the story and have a final manuscript to turn in?
I prefer to have finished my story, because even if I do work best with a deadline, I never want to be in the position of having to rush a book. I’ve read too many books where the ending seems mashed up, and I wondered if the author simply didn’t have the time to finish it correctly.

Is there any other genre that you would love to try writing?  If so, what is it?
I’d like to try a historical novel – I love doing research. I’m toying with the idea of a story set in Jamaica in the late 1600’s, when the pirates ruled the Caribbean...

Do you always/ever see yourself as the heroine/hero when you write a story?

I have to admit, if I don’t feel a connection with the heroine, I have trouble writing the story – so I guess the answer is always. But the heroine is never actually me – I would make a pretty boring heroine, lol.

Just for fun, I have a few personal questions, 
Favorite 5

1)      Favorite Male Actor  - Leonardo DiCaprio

2)      Favorite vehicle -  train

3)      Favorite way to relax - reading

4)      Favorite ice cream – vanilla mint chocolate chip

5)      Favorite outfit – jeans and a cashmere sweater

And for a bonus:  If you could pick any place in the world to live, besides where you are now, where would it be?  (Of course, without the hindrance of jobs or money needed)


Where can our readers find you?? 


Twitter: @jennifermacaire



Is there an upcoming or current release you would like to share with us today and where can we find it?

My most recent is Welcome to Paradise, and I really love this book. I hope I hear from readers about it!





Blurb:  Growing up on an island paradise isn’t as easy as one might think. Sugar is infatuated with the boy next door, worried she won't make the cheerleading squad, and even more worried that she will. She is paranoid that because of the horrendous scar on her face, no one really expects her to succeed at anything. Her sister is smart, her mother is a legendary model, and her father is a famous artist. Her family’s success sets a high bar for her to live up to.


Everything changes for Sugar when a plastic surgeon removes her scar. The surgery makes her beautiful, but she makes the shocking discovery that being beautiful can be awful. When she finally discovers who she is, and what she wants from life, it nearly destroys her tightly knit family. She must confront abuse, an elopement, loss, and a secret her father has kept from her all her life. Sugar is struggling to pull everything together and find her own version of 'Happily Ever After'.

*   *   *   *   *   *

14+ for sexuality, language, and adult situations

During spring break, I went to Tortola and had plastic surgery done on my face. I hadn’t had to wait until I was eighteen, new techniques had been developed and most of the surgery was done by laser. A week afterwards, I came home again. I was in bandages for a week more. It was awkward in school, I felt like the mummy in old horror films.

When I took off the bandages, it was impossible for me to see any difference. For some reason my old face was superimposed on my mind, and the face staring back at me in the mirror simply belonged to someone else.

My parents were ecstatic. The results seemed to surpass even their expectations. The scar was gone. My mouth was smoothed, my nose was straight. I was always startling myself when I looked in the mirrors; it was too sudden. Even Sadie started acting differently around me. She teased me less, and I’d sometimes catch her staring at me with the strangest expression on her face.

I had to stay out of the sun, wear total sun block and wide-brimmed hats for months. My tan faded, and with it the remainder of my scars. The kids in my class all seemed to appreciate my new face. I was even asked out on dates, but I wasn’t interested. I was in love, and Brett actually answered my letters. He wrote often. I wrote just as much, and in one letter I put in photographs of myself and my new face.

Mother had a professional photographer take my picture. I went in to the sitting rather nervously. The photographer was bright and chipper, talking, always talking.

“Okay, that’s right dear, that’s the spirit. Love it, love it! How’s about a smile? Eh, that’s the smile, that’s it! Beautiful! Okay, great. Look over there, yes, that’s it. Now, chin down, yeah, keep your chin down love. Okay. Great, good stuff. How’s about taking your top off? You got great breasts, I can tell, not too big, not too small. Well, what about it? Want to do some nudes?”

I was mesmerized. I took off my top, and posed for him. He didn’t stop talking; I was clothed in the sound of his voice. Afterwards, I was embarrassed, absolutely crimson. I realized my mother would see the pictures, so when she came to pick me up, I burst into tears in the car.

“Oh, sweetheart! They all do it! I never saw a photographer who didn’t want me to pose nude. It’s nothing dear. They’re artists, like your father. He always has nude girls trailing around his studio, you know that. It’s a compliment. Don’t cry!” Mother was amused.

I sent a picture to Brett of my new face. And one of me, topless. It was very good, actually. I was perched on the edge of a chair, looking straight at the camera, but poised as if I was about to leap away. I told Brett my father had taken the pictures as a study for one of his paintings. Brett wrote back that he’d put both pictures in his wallet. But the one of me topless was hidden, so that only he could find it. He also wrote that he was tired, that the treatments were painful, and that he was losing his hair and gaining weight. So while I was growing more beautiful, he was turning hideous.

I wrote back that I didn’t care, that looks were nothing. I’d spent years with a ruined face, so I ought to know. Hair could be grown back, weight lost. I told him to follow doctor’s orders and get well soon. I said I wanted him, that my body craved him, and that I hoped no one else was reading his mail.

His mother traveled back and forth every week, spending time with her son and husband. I’d heard somewhere that Southern women were tough as steel, but not Lacey. She seemed to crumble. She grew thin, and her eyes were perpetually red. I saw her a lot. She came to the house as much as possible to cry on Mother’s shoulder. I gave her some of my letters to take to Brett, and these fragile white missives seemed to give her strength. She would sit up straighter as she tucked them into her purse, and they were the only things that would make her smile. 

**Optional**  (but fun) Do you have a favorite recipe you'd like to share?  I like to cook and am always looking for new recipes to try and share but it's totally up to you.

I love to cook too, and here is a recipe from the Caribbean that is easy (I use canned kidney beans, but you can use dried ones if you soak well overnight and cook thoroughly!).


1 onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 tbsp olive oil

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp all spice (or ground cloves)

1 12 ounce can kidney beans, including liquid

1 14 ounce can tomatoes (try to get good quality canned tomatoes – it makes a difference!)

1 1/2 cups rice (I like to use Basmati)

1 1/2 cup water (add more if needed so the rice stays moist)

salt and pepper to taste


Sautee onion and garlic in olive oil until onions turn soft, about 3 to 5 minutes. Add spices and cook for just one more minute.

Add the beans and the tomatoes, including the liquid from each. Allow this to cook for a few more minutes, then add the rice and water.

Cover and cook for about 30-35 minutes, or until rice is done and most of the liquid has been absorbed. Add salt and pepper to taste.

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