Please join me in welcoming Janie Franz to the Palace of the Twelve Pillars.  Her new book The Lost Song Refrain  is being released on Friday April 19. So read on about her and her new book.   Welcome Jane and thanks for popping in: BIO: Janie Franz comes from a long line of liars and storytellers with roots deep in east Tennessee. Honed by the frigid Northern Plains and the high desert of New Mexico, as well as a degree in anthropology, her writing skill and curiosity have generated thousands of feature and cover articles over a vast range of topics for more than a hundred regional, national, and international publications. She has co-written two books with Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox (The Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Bookand The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book), and has self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a Business, Stupid! She ran her own online music publication, Refrain Magazine, for several years and is a book and music reviewer.  She has also been a booking agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor. The Lost Song Refrain is her tenth published work of fiction.

BLURB: New passions and jealousies threaten the quest for a lost song and lead to the discovery of a terrible secret.

EXCERPT: She squatted down and looked out across a sea of people engaged in all manner of activities, moving here and there, not interfering with anyone else’s work. It was well-planned, as if they did this every day, and perhaps they had on their journey to Hill City and would again as they returned. “Confusion, yes?” Jan-nell swung her head around to find the sword dancer who had sung and drummed the night before standing beside her. His footfalls edged upon magic comparable to Bekar’s, a magic that allowed the hunter to slip upon her unawares many times. She smiled and stood, returning her attention to the people breaking camp. “It is like an elaborate dance.” Then she admitted, her throat tightening around her words. “But I do not know the steps.” “Ah.” There again was the Goiya’s mysterious word that he used so often. She glanced up at the bald sword dancer, standing with his dark arms folded across the unbuttoned black silk vest barely covering his massive chest as he looked out over the camp. “Am I permitted to talk to you now?” Attempting to cover a smile, he kept his eyes fixed on the activity before him. “No.”