Saturday, July 12, 2014

Myth is Live On Amazon!!

Myth is live on the Kindle! Here are the links!

I will blog the links for Nook and Kobo as soon as they're live.  


Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Slowly But Surely

After a round of weird bad luck, slicing my finger and getting five stitches, a sick husband (twice), and a flurry of competitions for rhythmic gymnastics (my daughter, not me), I think I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel for Dark World III. With just a few thousand words to go, and a lot of twists and turns not even I saw coming, the characters of Myth are finally coming full circle.

With fingers crossed (not the one with stitches) I hope to get Myth out by the end of May. I thank you so very much for your continuing patience. I know I take a long time to write, but I've become a bit of an obsessive perfectionist with writing and want to make sure its perfect for you. :)

I'd love to hear your comments below and any guesses on what you think might happen in this next installment of Dark World.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

On Writing...

Writing is frustrating. Some days my fingers fly around the keyboard like wildfire, unable to keep up with the story unfolding inside my head. Other days, like these past few, every word is like trying to pry gemstones from solid ice. I wonder why my muse picks and chooses to come and go as she pleases? I wonder why the story, after moving so swiftly through my imagination, has chosen to pause itself? Perhaps it is my human limitations that hinder progress?

It seems, occasionally, that when my writing goes into creative hibernation, that my reading becomes voracious; as though it's the one that's been starving and now needs immediate sustenance. It is difficult, however, to find the right foods to feed the need. Not all books are created equal. I often pick up three or four from the library only to return all of them unread but for a few chapters. Why is this? I'm picky. Very, very picky. I hate wasting precious time and energy on a book that I feel will not quench my creative thirst. 

The books I read have to have certain qualities, such as beautiful writing. You know the kind, the prose that flows like verbal silk, words wound together as though angels have inspired them. Second, a lovely cover. Yes, I know, that's a bit shallow, but it's true. I feel that the package should entice me, seducing me to peek between its pages. And lastly, a different story. Something unique, odd even. So often I find the same stories retold, rehashed and milked for every ounce it's worth. Example: Vampires. Need I say more?

So as I wait out yet another writing hiatus, I fill my head with the words and stories of those who inspire me. Perhaps they are my muses, or my own muse has flitted off to inspire another in order to feed my future literary addictions? 

Who knows?

Friday, February 14, 2014

Valentine's Sneak Peak at Dark World III

Dark World III


The monster wandered the shadowy realm, his new home whether he liked it or not. Thick, hot, oppressive air held his lungs captive as blistering crimson sands branded the soles of his naked feet. Subterranean springs intermittently discharged scorching waters into the atmosphere whilst angry volcanoes raged endlessly in the distance, their garnet tributaries bleeding from earthly wounds that seemingly never healed.
This world, this dark land, seemed to embrace all things malignant, all things evil. What trace of humanity he had left lingering inside recoiled in fear and confusion, terrified of what might be waiting for him around every shadow-cloaked corner, but the dark passenger that now occupied the greater part his soul was elated, grinning, and pleased to be home again. This new malevolence twisted and crawled through the blackened web-like veins spread all over his body, owning him as though possessed. Relentless hunger pulled at his innards, thirst for blood clawed at his throat. Despite his weary, every creature he’d happened upon inevitably lost the battle, becoming his next meal. This thing inside of him, this beast, could lash out, summon any strengths needed when the time arose. In those moments, he’d become powerful, god-like—indestructible. He’d torn at their flesh with his teeth, greedily, uncontrollably, but never was he rewarded satiation or reprieve from the inhuman suffering. The hunger always remained. Always tormenting him, always controlling him.
Nevertheless, there was something else lurking amid the dark corners of his newfound Hell. Something stronger than the blood lust. Something that diluted the poison inside: revenge.
He vowed to find his way back from this dark world. He would make them pay for this. He would find the ones responsible and show them what true pain was.
But for now, he had to find food, had to feed this unappeasable monster within, had to silence the demons screaming inside. Then, he would search for the one he sensed nearby. The one he’d hurt first.
The one he’d sent here.


Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Here it is!!!

Here it is! The cover for Dark World III!! Thank you to the amazing skills of S. Yordanova at

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Just the Way it Goes

So it happens on occasion where an author names their book with all the love and affection of a newborn baby. But, as it turns out, sometimes the book decides to switch personalities halfway through. This is what happened to Dark World II. I'd wanted to call it Ever, as it was supposed to be mostly about her, but as usual the characters decided how the book was going to go, hence I was forced to find a new name for the book.  To my surprise, however, the new name, The Devil Inside, seems to encompass the story far better than the previous name.
So here's so my new, adopted child: Dark World II: The Devil Inside.


Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Last Dark World Teaser Before the Big Day!

After supper, Kane and Fate left the castle for a walk. The balmy evening was filled with promise, and maybe even a bit of romance.
Fate cast her gaze upward, the ceiling of rock snarled down at her like a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Blood-red mist hovered amidst the fangs, giving the illusion that it had just devoured a fresh meal. She shuddered and forced her sight away.
How she missed the sky. Sometimes it felt like she’d never really known the baby blue air overhead with its hot sphere of gold, or the pitch of night enlightened by an ancient moon and a billion stars. Had it all been a dream, this other life as Scarlet Prince? Had she really existed on the Surface? It didn’t feel real anymore. She was Fate now, some inhuman creature with silver hair, magical powers, and an unquenchable lust for souls.
The latter would have been nothing more than fantasy on the Surface, a tale woven by fanciful writers, but it was reality that didn’t resonate with her any longer.
Still, a sliver of her former self lingered within. A spark of what was once Scarlet still flickered deep inside. It was her family and Shelby that kept the fire alive. The part of her that was still Scarlet held hope that she might see her loved ones again. 
She sometimes envied Vale and Sybil. Despite the circumstances, that they had been torn from their lives on the Surface by Malus’s minions, they still had one another. Even though Vale had searched for Sybil for one hundred years in the underworld, time had not made their hearts forgetful. They held each other as dear as they did on the Surface, if not more.
“I wonder where Sybil was tonight,” Fate pondered as she and Kane walked hand in hand through the streets of Necrosia. She wasn’t sure why, but she kept glancing around, expecting to see judgment in the eyes of the citizens. But everyone just smiled at them, accepted them. It was a place where all races were welcome: shades, necromancers, and anyone else who joined their community. It was a rare and beautiful place.
“The Oracle? I don’t know,” he replied nonchalant. “Why?” He looked down at her with a soft stare that made her heart quicken.
She shrugged and looked away. “I just wanted to ask her something.”
“About what?” he asked as he led her to the left, towards a jewelry vendor. Earrings and necklaces made of bones, animal scales, and precious gems hung from the makeshift store walls. Some very beautiful, some macabre.
“Nothing, really,” Fate said, then asked, changing the subject, “Have you and Vrill decided what you’ll do to find the scroll on the Surface?”
He shook his head as he leaned over a small box on the vendor’s table, blocking Fate’s view with his muscular arm. “No, we also must speak with the Oracle. She might be able to see its location.”
Fate nodded, frowning as she rose onto to her tippy toes to see over his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”
He was silent for a moment, ignoring her. Then, after handing something to the vendor, he turned to her with a shy smile. “Close your eyes,” he ordered softly.
Her brows pulled together in confusion, but she complied, shutting her eyes.
She felt his body draw closer, his warm breath feathering over her face. Her head swam at his nearness, her senses blurred. His scent was more than intoxicating, it was alluring, seductive. It confounded her how just being close to him could completely throw her off her game. But instead of analyzing it, she just let it happen, falling back into the bliss.
He then took her hand into his, heating it with his hot demon skin, and she felt him slide something onto her finger.
She gasped, her eyes opening with a start. Kane lifted her hand, kissing the back of it before allowing her to see what he’d given her.
“But...” she sputtered.
Kane leaned into her, pushed her silver-white hair from her ear and after kissing her earlobe, whispered in Attra, Dark World’s native tongue, “Vosira mea anima.”
I give you my soul.