Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl

Coming February 8, 2022! I am so excited to be published by Histria Addison & Highsmith!

If you know the song, you know Brandy’s sailor loved the sea more than her (The bastard.). Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl is historical fan fiction, celebrating the 50th Anniversary of the 1972 hit song. Brandy’s story doesn’t end when the music stops–her destiny is filled with adventure!

Crum, England, mid-1800s: 
“‘Brandy, ‘ he told me, ‘you’re a fine girl, ‘ he said. ‘You’d make a good wife.'”

Barmaid Brandy seizes on a plan to become that good wife and escape her life of drudgery. A pregnancy would be just the thing to get him to marry her. When that doesn’t work, she crosses paths with Elliot, a nobleman in need of a wife and heir by his fast-approaching 30th birthday, or else his inheritance will go to his scheming cousin Clarence.

Once married, Elliot’s problems appear solved, and Brandy has a kind husband and a warm and comfy new home, even if it is full of Elliot’s odd band of friends. Everyone tries to get along and put up with Brandy’s strange cravings and profanity-laden drama, until they discover she was never really pregnant.

She fears she’ll be kicked out, but not to worry–there’s still time for Elliot to fulfill his husbandly duty and save the day. Or is he… up to the task? When Elliot’s handsome — and virile — best friend Beau shows up, Brandy promptly falls head over heels. She becomes pregnant, but will it be too late? Swearing she can live on love, Brandy dreams of running off with Beau, until she discovers a shocking secret about her husband and his best friend.

Will the baby arrive before Elliot’s 30th birthday? Will it even be a son and therefore true heir? And who is the mysterious one-armed carpenter from Brandy’s past? Fear not — Brandy always has a back-up plan. From the tarnished silver locket (that turned her neck green, but may hold a pirate’s map), to a secret passageway containing hidden treasure, Brandy is determined to get by on her wits and her tits.

The #1 hit song, Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl, was written and composed by Elliot Lurie and recorded by his band, Looking Glass. Dee DeTarsio is an award-winning writer living in southern California. She hopes Elliot Lurie enjoys Brandy living her best life and enjoying fine adventures!

Behind the Scenes:

5 stars to Brandy (which I wrote, but hear me out) mostly because of the brilliance of the song itself, which is celebrating its 50th Anniversary! I was able to track down Elliot Lurie, singer/songwriter, who is as lovely as his voice! He gave me his blessing for continuing Brandy’s story in my novel, (though he is not endorsing it—and I can’t help but agree with his reasoning—his Brandy is the perfect story set to song at 3:00 minutes long). I hope he’s OK with the liberties I took with Brandy, because I couldn’t resist finding out what happened to her. I mean, come on, poor Brandy, wandering those dark streets alone, waiting for that rotten sailor who wouldn’t marry her? (His life, his lover, his lady is the sea?) Wearing a locket on a silver chain that bears HIS name? Rejoice! Brandy is about to change her destiny.

I hope Elliot Lurie (and his fans) enjoy Brandy living her best life and enjoying fine adventures!

Check out the amazing a cappella version of Brandy that Elliot Lurie performed during the pandemic, with Yonge Guns Quartet.

Cootie Protection

cpIndie authors have cooties. I can say that because I . . . have cooties. I don’t have an agent or traditional publisher. I do have a couple of books and seven amazing fans. I have tried to imitate the cootie-free and their platforms—the way they announce new books on facebook and twitter, their sincere gratitude for readers, how they conduct author interviews. (Though I’ve stopped short of discussing my “craft” unless it’s followed by macaroni and cheese).

Their confidence smells so good vs. the decaying-baby-rattlesnake-clobbered-to-death-in-the-bottom-of-a-baseball-bat-bag-undiscovered-for-a-whole-season whiff of desperation that harbors the stinky bacteria of cooties.

Since I’m an indie, I guess I have to do it myself and make my own C.P.

Cootie Protection
2 TBSP Febreze
1/2 cup finely minced jealousy
1 cup blanched dreams
Stir in handful of Suck It Up
Shake fist at Universe
Spray liberally and make sure to get it in your eyes.

Summertime . . . and the Reading is Awesome!

badge-SRC-2013Summertime . . . and the reading is awesome!

Fish are jumpin’ and the bookworms are nigh . . .

(Sorry.) Please go check out the Summer Reading Road Trip to see what all the cool kids will be reading!

So hush, little baby, don’t you cry!

Kick-Ass Bios

Bios are b-o-r-i-n-g. Unless it’s your own, and then tweaking it is like getting to second base, with yourself. When I eavesdropped on a friend of mine who said he didn’t like my bio, he quickly recovered with a song and dance about how wonderful I am. My feelings weren’t hurt (much!); I really wanted to know how to make it better.

Here is a crazy good getting-to-know you video bio – not a boring frame to be found, from the co-star of MTV’s new show, Catfish:

Max Joseph, Catfish

So how to translate that to an official bio? While it wouldn’t hurt to be an award-winning film director and star, don’t be afraid to make an ass of yourself, because you are. I know you are but what am I?

————————————–

DEE DeTARSIO is considering a nom de plume, believing that Delilah could come up with better steamy scenes.

Dear Amazon,

Dear Amazon,

Success is such a strong word . . .

Five books, seven covers, hundreds of reviews and a kabillion category changes later, I am applying for a spot on the Amazon Success Story scoreboard. Full disclosure: while I am not making enough to pay for Lululemon writing pants, I could probably spring for a pair of LuluLychees. (I would buy those.)

I lost my ego along with the placenta of my first-born, making writing a natural career choice. More than seven hundred rejections, three agents, and close-but-no-cigar publishers toying with my affections, I perversevered. (I know that’s not a real word, but it should be.)

Two years ago I pulled Amazon’s finger and brought forth on this continent, a new book, conceived in loneliness and dedicated to the proposition that all writers are weird. Now we are engaged in a great uncivil war, testing whether any book so conceived can long endure . . . (Please stop picturing me in a homespun Laura Ingalls Wilder dress, churning butter. I’m trying to thank Amazon here.)

Prototype of the new Fondle logo?

I owe Amazon a debt of gratitude, or at least a 70% royalty.  Amazon’s cast and crew is conscientious and kind, and it feels great to be welcomed into their creative vortex.

I am on the edge of my seat, as both a reader and a writer, waiting to see what happens next. Suggestion box: Say someone was reading her kindle, drinking a glass of wine, and eating a chocolate brownie bundt cake, which resulted in a juggling mishap–with a happy ending. Siri suggests you call it the Fondle. (I’d tap that app.)

Sincerely,
Dee DeTarsio

Happy Birthday, Marian Keyes!

Goddess Marian Keyes

Happy Birthday to Marian Keyes, Best Author on The Planet! Only 3 more days to her new novel, The Mystery of Mercy Close, and I 5-Star recommend her Mammy Walsh family history!

I fangirl double-heart Marian Keyes because her books shine with the magic of laughing at the sadness of life.

I dedicated my novel, Ros, to Marian Keyes—#FREE this week.

To Marian Keyes—and to the Marian Keyes in every woman—that smart, funny, sad, put-upon, brave part of your soul that makes this world a brighter place.

The World’s Worst Novelist?

My novel Ros shows up next to Irish author Amanda McKittrick Ros, and her book, Irene Iddesleigh. Ros self-published in 1897, and her reputation as the world’s worst novelist is being remembered at the Celebrate Literary Belfast festival later this month, (Awful Author Addicted to Alliteration Achieves Acclaim Again!).

Amanda McKittrick Ros

This teacher/novelist/poet provided hours of entertainment to fellow writers—an Oxford literary group, which included C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, held competitions to see who could read her work the longest without laughing. When a critic sarcastically called it “the book of the century,”  Ros suggested he was so hostile because he was secretly in love with her.

“. . .He found himself, altogether unconsciously, clasping her to his bosom, whilst the ruby rims which so recently proclaimed accusations and innocence met with unearthly sweetness, chasing every fault over the hills of doubt . . .”