K.T. Bishop is Back

K.T. Krashes In
Wild Romantic Ladies Welcome Author K.T. Bishop, who recently had his debut novel, Picking Cotton, recently come out at Red Rose Publishing.
1. See you've been on a Blog tour, interviewing with Moonlight, Lace and Mayhem as well as wicked thorn and roses, and now you drop by Wild Romantic Ladies.
K.T.: For those people who know me will tell you that I like talking. I'm always glad to promote my books and help other authors promote their books. In these tough economic times, us e-book authors need to stick together. Some of us don't have big printed deals like Nora Roberts and Susan Elizabeth Phillips. A lot of us authors either have regular jobs or retired.
2. How were you able infuse sports and romance into a storyline?
K.T.: Very easy. Sports has a unique way of bringing romantic characters together. Especially in small towns, baseball, football and basketball games link the communities together. Football is the main one. Everyone wants a piece of the star, especially a quarterback. A cheerleader and quarterback are the most linked couples in high schools, especially during the 1950's and 60's.
3. What was the reason behind the eighties timeline?
K.T.: To me, its a very cool time period. I remember white people had big hair and black people had gheri curls (LOL). MTV just started out and was only into making videos, not producing shows like the real world. Prince was at its peak with Purple Rain. Madonna wanted to rule the World. American Bandstand and Soul Train, wow those were the days of our lives.
4. Tell us about the characters in Picking Cotton.
K.T.: M.L. Cotton is the straw that sitrs the drink. A hard-working, driven character who cares about others, but needed a strong woman like Jennifer Monet' to point that out. She was a pampered Cajun princess until meeting ML changed her life. They help each other through crucial moments in their lives. The reason for the Cotton series' existence.
5. You also wrote about a small town.
K.T.: New Orleans is a big town, but very small compared to the Chicago, Los Angeles and New Yorks of the world. I was telling a fellow author that small towns are the perfect setting for romance because there's not much to do in those towns.
6. Interracial Romance seems to be at its peak. What's your reasoning behind that?
K.T.: I really don't have an concrete answer, just a theory. Most of the racial barriers are gone from the country. You see more multicultural couples (blacks and white) (White and chinese) (Blacks and hispanics) these days, translating into books. I just hope that trend continues over into Picking Cotton (LOL).
7. What is it like to be published at Red Rose?
K.T.: Wendi Felter, Publisher, does a great job. (After all, she gave me a chance-LOL.). It's hard to believe she started this company two years ago and its growing like my stock used to. Rochelle Weber, my editor, tortured me through the editing ordeal and made Cotton a much stronger book. We have a lot of talented authors at Red Rose. I have a lot of respect for them.
8. Is this Cotton book a one shot deal?
K.T.: I have two more books in the series. The next one, Country Cotton, revolves around M.L.'s big sister living in Nashville and working for the Grand Ole Opry. Book 3 revolves around M.L.'s getting married and aiming for the pros as the eighties end.
9. Got any other things you're working on?
K.T.: A book for the 2010 Winter Olympics called Feel the Fire about a Swedish Figure Skater and Black football player-turned trampolinist.
10. Care to share an excerpt
K.T.: A scene at Christmas where ML takes mass with the Monets.
To the Monet’s, Christmas Eve was more important than the twenty-fifth. For Louisiana Catholics, the twenty-fourth was Jesus’ birthday. Jennifer dragged a reluctant ML along to Midnight Mass at St. Sebastian church in Coastview.
“I never heard of St. Sebatian before I came here, so I looked him up,” Jennifer said as they parked the car in the crowded lot. “Are you ready for this? He’s the patron saint of athletes and soldiers -- quarterbacks and Conquistadors! It couldn’t be more perfect.”
“I feel a little better, but I’m still nervous.” ML said. “I’ve never been to a church with white people before; I won’t fit in.”
“That’s the silliest thing I ever heard; there’re black Catholics,” Jennifer said. “Anyway, I’ll try to clue you when we stand or kneel or genuflect.”
ML wondered what she’d just said. He didn’t even know what the last word meant.
As they entered the church, smiling people welcomed them, handing them each a bulletin and a candle stuck through the X cut in the middle of a circle of cardboard.
“What do we need these for?” he asked Jennifer.
“The bulletin tells you what’s next in the Mass, which hymns we’re singing and where to find them in the hymnal, and the candle’s for the Candle Lighting,” she whispered. As they entered the nave where all the pews were, Jennifer stopped, dipped her fingers in a bowl of water sitting on a marble base, and crossed herself.
“What’s that for?”
“To shorten my time in Purgatory.”
“In where?”
“Tell you later. There’re my parents.” She indicated a row about halfway down toward the altar. When they got down there, she seemed to stumble. ML reached for her arm and saw her cross herself again.
“You OK?” he whispered.
“I was genuflecting to the Host.”
“What?”
He nervously squeezed into the crowded pew alongside the Monet’s. Jennifer whispered her explanation.
“When the priest blesses the communion wafers, we believe they turn into the body of Christ. So we store the leftovers in that little box up on the altar and before we sit down we bow to Jesus.”
ML digested that, then looked at his bulletin. The first hymn was “O, Little Town of Bethlehem.” That should be easy. They sang that in his church. In fact, as he went down the list, the only hymn that was not familiar was “Ave Maria” and there was no number next to it, just a name -- “Mrs. Jean Weaver.”
As the Mass started, it was quite a procession. First a bunch of boys came in wearing white robes over black ones, then priests wearing black robes, one wearing a red rope around his waist and a long red scarf around his neck and finally one came in wearing gold accessories with a big, pointed hat and a huge ring.
“Oh, the Bishop is saying Mass!” Charlotte’s whisper sounded excited.
As the choir sang the hymn and the organ pealed, ML realized he’d never heard such beautiful music. He fumbled his way through the confusing motions of the Mass until the greeting. He hugged Jennifer and her parents, then someone in the pew behind them tapped him on the shoulder. An elderly couple each offered him a handshake and said, “Peace be with you. And Merry Christmas, son.”
He returned the compliment, as his tension disappeared into the night like crimes never sticking to Al Capone.
“Merry Christmas, sir,” he replied. “Uh… Oh, and peace, too.”
He turned back toward the front and the man with the big gold hat was standing next to their pew holding out his hand. ML shook it and said, “Merry Christmas, Sir.” Jennifer seemed to be trying not to giggle as she kissed the man’s ring.
“Peace be to you, Bishop,” she said.
“And unto you, my child.” He formed the sign of the cross on her forehead, murmuring, “I bless you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen,” Jennifer said, as her parents beamed. But it seemed to ML that there was laughter in their eyes, too.
Next came the Communion. Everyone lined up in the aisles to go eat the wafer and sip the wine while “Mrs. Jean Weaver” sang an incredible rendition of Ave Maria. Her hair was all white and she was still very much a beautiful woman. Her soprano voice soared with the high notes. ML had no idea what she was singing. The song was in Latin, but her voice gave him the chills. Communion was still going on when she finished, so the choir sang a medley of Christmas hymns.
After Communion and a couple more prayers, the altar boys came down the aisle with lit candles. The first person in each pew lit his candle from the altar boy, then people lit their candles from each other until the whole church was bathed in the golden light of the candles. ML hadn’t even noticed when the church lights were turned off. The choir and congregation sang “Silent Night,” then the Bishop gave a blessing and led the priests and fianally the altar boys as they marched out while everyone sang “Joy to the World.” And not one person yelled out a “Halleluja,” or “Thank you Jesus” during the whole ceremony.

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http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=453