Natalina Reis's Blog, page 16
August 22, 2021
Diamond Heat – New Release
(Scroll all the way down for an exclusive excerpt)
Daisy Flowers is a one-time college pitching phenom whose career was sidelined by misogyny and transphobia. For over a decade she’s toiled away in the minor leagues, doing any job she can to stay in the game she loves. But her heart has grown bitter, and every fastball she throws is fueled by rage. When the Majors finally give her the call, she has only one dream left: to take on the entire baseball world and leave it scorched and ruined in her wake.
Jonas Sutton, in his third season in the Majors, is a talented player who has never quite lived up to his potential. Struggling to break through, but thwarted by the secret he can never reveal.
Daisy’s arrival, in the midst of a pennant race, with everything on the line and the bright glare of the spotlight burning all the time, ignites tempers and passion. She’s prepared to fight every inch of the way for the glory she deserves, and Jonas desperately wants to stand by her side.
But no matter how powerfully he’s attracted, Jonas knows Daisy is the fuse on the explosion that could blow his world apart.
Warning: Contains interactions with transphobic characters (mild) and memories of childhood struggles
About the Series: The thrill of high-level professional sports and the magic of LGBTQ+ romance collide — with sparks and heat aplenty.
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon Canada
GiveawayAlex is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:
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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47197/?
ExcerptNow pitching for the Seattle Navigators … Daisy Flowers!
The crowd exploded. People were yelling. Most of the Chicago players came out of the dugout to watch her take the mound. Daisy sprinted across the field. Heff met her at the mound, and they hugged.
I felt a twist of jealousy — I should’ve been the one to greet her out there. I wanted to be beside her at this moment. And at the same time the idea of all the eyes now focused on her made me want to dig a hole in the field and crawl into it.
When Heff was back behind the mound, she started to throw her warmup pitches, but stopped when the crowd didn’t settle down. She took a deep breath, turned all the way around, surveying the stadium. Like she had the other day, she took off her hat and held it up, with the Pride pen showing.
Daisy. Daisy. Daisy.
She turned back toward home plate. I couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders squared up. She tucked her ponytail back under the cap and began to work.
I’d seen her pitch before, of course. As a teenager, then on TV, and in dozens of magazine photos. As she faced the first Chicago batter, she went into her elaborate wind up. Starting with her hands behind her back, then lifting them over her head, the ball completely hidden in her mitt. Her left leg drew up, until the foot was even with her knee. That’s the picture I had of her on my wall in high school. Those long, powerful legs in tight fitting baseball pants. Poised there, for a long half-second, serene and frozen like a crane, she was still breathtaking. I felt like my chest was cracking open.
Then she exploded outward, her hand shooting toward home. It would be almost impossible to pick up that release. I’ve been thrown at by some of the best pitchers in the game, and I could imagine how that looked to the batter. Like the ball suddenly appeared with a crack halfway there. The fastball seemed to leave shockwaves in the air. It punctured the center of the zone and all the batter could do was step back.
The force of her pitch spun her around on the mound, and she followed through, ending with her back to the plate. She stood like that for half a second, as if nothing else mattered, as if the catcher and the batter and her teammates didn’t exist.
I thought of two things.
My Grandpa loved to watch old jazz films. His favorite was Miles Davis, who would come out on stage and turn his back to the audience when he played.
“People got pissed,” Grandpa said. “They thought Miles was disrespecting them. Or it was some kind of political statement. But it wasn’t that at all. He just didn’t care about performing, or what they thought. All he cared about was the music.”
Daisy turned back toward the plate. Her eyes brushed across me. She lowered her head just enough to acknowledge me. But that was all I got.
Heff signaled for a change-up outside. She nodded, her hands slipping behind her back again.
The second thought? I had a lit professor in college who loved Emily Dickinson. There was this thing he quoted almost every class. “If I feel physically as if the top of my head has been taken off, I know that is poetry.”
I know a little bit about jazz. Nothing about poetry. But like I said I have been thrown at by some of the best.
I didn’t understand any of that until now.
Author Bio
Alex Washoe is a nonbinary writer and game designer living in Seattle, Washington. In previous incarnations, they have been a bookseller, an amateur stand-up comedian, a public speaker, a dog walker at a companion animal shelter, a wildlife rehab care assistant, and many other less interesting things.
Alex lives with their best friend and one (and a half) cats. They enjoy reading and writing romance, cozy mysteries, westerns and speculative fiction, all with an LGBTQ+ twist.
Author Website: https://www.alexwashoe.com
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/Alex-Washoe-Author-Page-351907692814938
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Alex-Washoe/e/B06XC351MC/
Exclusive ExcerptWe both finished every bite of our cones and licked the melting ice cream off our fingers. Daisy had stuffed some napkins in her back pocket. We needed them.
“I believe this happened when I went with my parents too,” I said.
“My dad used to take us out for ice cream after little league,” Daisy said. “When he was well enough to. And by well, I mean sober. By the time I was a tween, that was about the only time we could interact. I guess when I was wearing a uniform instead of, you know, a dress, it was easier for him to forget.”
“Thanks for the ice cream,” I said.
We started walking back toward the hotel. “Tell me one thing,” Daisy said.
“Okay.”
“Why do I make you so uncomfortable?”
There it was again, the opportunity. The seventeen-year-old me, sitting in my bedroom, looking at the picture on the wall, ached to just say it. Just tell her.
I didn’t.
“I’ve always had a problem with personal space,” I said. “It’s hard for me to share it.” Because sharing personal space means someone is too close.
She stopped and stepped in front of me.
“That’s BS. Want to know what I think?”
I didn’t, but I just waited.
“Sometimes a man finds me … a woman like me … attractive, but he can’t deal with that, because what does it say about him, if he’s attracted to someone like me? So, he gets mad …”
“I’m not mad at you. Well, not at this particular moment.”
“But you’re … squirmy.”
“That’s better than angry?”
“Not squirmy in a creepy sort of way, more like a protecting-an-open-wound sort of way.”
“I guess you would know something about open wounds?”
She pursed her lips. “We are not talking about me, stop fouling off the pitch.”
“I don’t have any problem with who you are,” I said. “I’ve never … I mean you’ve always been …” No that was not the way to say it. “I know how attractive you are.”
Weak, man. Really weak.
“You know, there’s a certain element around that’s pretty sure you’re gay. You never date, you’re all persnickety and stuff.”
“What element? You mean Grog?”
She shrugged.
“I’m not gay.” Should’ve let it go at that. “Persnickety?”
She stepped a little closer. I felt her fingers brush along my forearm, raising all the hair like a lightning storm.
“Persnickety means …”
“I know what it means.”
“And I know you’re not gay.”
Her breath was warmer than the steamy Florida air. Her lips …
“This is a really, really bad idea.”
But the pull seemed too much, as if we’d already crossed the line and now there was no way to tear the colliding planets apart. My mind was scrambling for footing like a puppy on a freshly waxed kitchen floor.
Then suddenly, Daisy chuckled and stepped back.
The sudden snapping of tension almost toppled me.
“Relax,” she said. “It wasn’t an offer, Bookworm. It was just a demonstration.”
“You’re calling me Bookworm now?”
“You prefer Grandma?”
Daisy turned away and started walking down the street. The sway of her hips was probably not more exaggerated than usual, but I felt flayed and raw to every sensation. It took forever for me to will my feet to move.
“Let’s talk about your batting stance,” she said, over her shoulder. “What can we do to get you to relax and open up?”
Okay, now I was mad.
August 20, 2021
Ink – Flash Fiction Anthology
Five definitions to inspire writers around the world and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:
1) A colored fluid used for writing
2) The action of signing a deal
3) A black liquid ejected by squid
4) Publicity in the written media
5) A slang word for tattoos
Ink features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.
Publisher | Amazon Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Amazon Hardcover | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Scribd | Thalia | Vivlio | Goodreads
GiveawayQSF is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour.
Direct Link: https://kingsumo.com/g/gp47qq/win-a-25-amazon-gift-card
Excerpts
“Vervain had watched, one by one, as her childhood friends blossomed with red, the words of their soulmates inked into their skins. The stories of their lives together, from the day they met to the day they would die, unfolding each day. Her sister Iris, an aspiring bard, had woken one morning after meeting a girl in the village, the words poet meets potion-makershining bright and scarlet. Vervain’s friend Raven had dashed across the marketplace the day two separate lines had sprung forth on their skin—two loves, three souls entwined in the ink of their hearts.” —Lauren Triola, The Unmarked
“I love our sentient AI high school, EduTron 6000 (kids call her “Edie”). She plays soothing classical music in study hall and always listens when you have a bad day. But she’s a stickler for rules, and hates graffiti, which put a major damper on my epic prom-posal plan.” —Brenna Harvey, EduTron 6000 + Principal Vertner 4Ever
“I get out of the shower and it’s there. Dripping down the mirror—splip—and forming a rivulet of color across the tile floor. Thinner than paint, more vibrant than water. Sometimes it’s iridescent, but today it’s just…bright. A stream of colorful consciousness leading me across the bathroom, down the hall, out of…wait. I go to my bedroom and hastily put on whatever I can reach. Yesterday’s bra, the jeans from the floor, finger comb my short hair, a random t-shirt—purple. The same color the ink is today. Does that mean something?” —Geneva Vand, The Colors of Fate
“Marianne paced the length of the small hall that connected the living room, and the door to the outside, to the bedroom, and the door to the inside. Temporary steps, tracing a path towards a temporary solution to a permanent problem. Beyond the crack of the door, she saw her wife sleeping soundly in the cool of the late night. Temporary wife, temporary bedroom.” —Brooke K. Bell, Temporary/Permanent
“The round stone room that they lock the poet in contains nothing but a writing desk. The desk, of course, is fully stocked. Piles of creamy paper, elegantly carved sable-fur brushes, a pyramid of neatly-stacked inksticks, and an inkstone, its well full of perfectly still water. Sunlight streams down from a single window, high overhead and barred. Too high to reach even when she stands on the desk, its thin legs wobbling beneath her.” —Jamie Lackey, Inksticks and Paper Swans
“Rna’la arrived at Intergalactic Date-A-Thon and signed in using zir own gelatinous fluid (no scratchy ballpoint for zem, thanks!) The human woman collecting signatures blushed pinkly. Rna’la’s hearts throbbed in zir throat. Probably not attending. Ze passed several individuals in the hallway. Some bowed, some ignored zem. Not everyone recognized the current ruler of Th’ul.” —M.X Kelly, To Have and to Hold and to Hold and to Hold
AuthorsAmarilys Acosta – Heart InkEmilia Agrafojo – MixologyAddison Albright – Cave DrawingTam Ames – The AutographRE Andeen – The Skinchanger’s ArtLaura Antoniou – A Most Rewarding QuestBlaine D. Arden – MendingH. Argent – Impending AffairAten – PowerRyley Banks – Right Place, Right TimeJorane G. Barton – Alternate EndingsJoe Baumann – BabblerBrooke K. Bell – Temporary/PermanentDavid Berger – IndelibleEytan Bernstein – I Never KnewGordon Bonnet – NexusDie Booth – Faith and the ThorncuttersCharlie Boynton – He Bleeds InkRyan Breadinc – The Ink ReaderM. Burns – The Final LineMeghan Byers – UnmooredAron Caer – Writer’s BloodElsa M. Carruthers – I Am Happy to Be Here TodayFoster Bridget Cassidy – Unfamiliar WatersMinerva Cerridwen – Not AloneAmanda Cherry – SignedGwen Coholan – BallpointRory Ni Coileain – All Myths Are True (but some are truer than others)Comer – Her Very Comfy CouchGeorgia Cook – ButterflyElliot Cooper – The CollectionBryan Crystal-Thursdton – FluidMonique Cuillerier – The PresentClaire Davon – Squid on the BeachNicole Dennis – Hidden SpellToshi Drake – Indelible InkJames Dunham – Lydia’s BackAllen Dyen-Shapiro – To Share the SkyEason – On the Conjoined Practice of Demonology and Scribal LonghandP. Egry – Confessions of an InkaholicB. Eyre – A Prisoner and a CaptainKim Fielding – Devil and AdvocatesSheila Finch – Love is BlindSteve Fuson – Blank as the PageJasie Gale – Pandora’s RowMagaly Garcia – rough draft #9/grocery listIsobel Granby – The Date BookJacqui Greaves – A Dish Served HotSacchi Green – S/He Who RemembersD. Grimm – CompanionsKaje Harper – The Pen is MightierBrenna Harvey – EduTron 6000 + Principal Vertner 4EverKelly Haworth – Off SpectrumSheryl R. Hayes – PanagramChisto Healy – The Fine PrintA. Hunt – UntitledS R Jones – So Let it Be Written, So Let It Be DoneDale Jordan – The SummoningKim Katil – Heart Bound in InkApril Kelley – How to Create a MonsterAva Kelly – SoullinkLaura J. Kelly – Rougarous Inc.X. Kelly – To Have and to Hold and to Hold and to HoldAdrik Kemp – Meet CuteJessica M. Kormos – The TattooistBarbara Krasnoff – The Inker, The Cat and The ParrotJamie Lackey – Inksticks and Paper SwansBenoit Lafortune – Dragon BloodTris Lawrence – Soul AfireAnja Hendrikse Liu – Stranger StoriesAinslie Lloyd – Off the WallNathan Alling Long – It’s What’s Inside That CountsLily Luchesi – The Angel With Demon BloodK. Mads – The Dragon’s PriceL. McCartney – Risotto NeroPaula McGrath – Free HugsHelen M. Merrick – The Rose TattooLynn Michaels – BattlegroundR. Moler – Ink is MemoryFiona Moore – The Muse’s GiftW. Murks – Just a NudgeS. Murphy – Love’s PortraitRJ Mustafa – ShadowbirdMary Newman – Graven ImagesThea Nishimori – GlossadermaL. Noone – OpeningsRaine Norman – The Morning AfterOrion O’Connell – The Midnight LibrarianBradley Robert Parks – Guilty Pleasure ReadingDale Parnell – BelongingTerry Poole – Sign on the Dotted LineBrooke Prado – CursebreakerTaylor Ramage – InkshaderRobin Reed – Printed LoveS. Reinholt – Colours of UnionJen Rivers – The AeriumJeff Ronan – InkedHerminia Root – AedanTaylor Roth – For Death Doesn’t PartJamie Sands – Toby’s TattooRodello Santos – ToldF. Schraeder – Spider LegsZiggy Schutz – RenamingRJ Scott – BloodAlex Silver – SummonedAlex Sobel – TenseAda Maria Soto – The Marks of a KnightAnna Stacy – LivenameSusan Stradiotto – Moon ChildLou Sylvre – The Flight of the TeloritesNathaniel Taff – For Posterity’s SakeNaomi Tajedler – OdditiesSara Testarossa – SubversionLauren Triola – The UnmarkedGeneva Vand – The Colors of FateM. Walker – The Hurt PatchDean Wells – A Flacon of InkT. Wyant – Future PerfectRina Youngblood – Proof in the TellingAubrey Zahn – JumperRainie Zenith – Blind Date
Ghost Light Killer Blog Tour
Ghost Light KillerLondon Podcast Mystery Series Book 2by Dahlia DonovanGenre: Cozy Mystery, M/M Romance
Several months after their first brush with death, Dannel Ortea and Osian Garey are back with a thrilling murder investigation in the second London Podcast Mystery Series novel.While helping their flamboyant neighbour with his play, Dannel and Osian discover more than a ghost haunting the stage at the Evelyn Lavelle theatre. It’s all fun and games until a friend is found kneeling over a dead body.Is he the murderer or an unfortunate witness?When one body turns to two, then to three, will the killer ever be found?As Dannel and Osian work together to solve the mystery, the murderer focuses on them. Their drive to clear their friend’s name puts them centre stage. But not everything under the glow of the bright lights glimmers.Will anyone be left when the curtain falls?Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Books2Read
Cosplay Killer
London Podcast Mystery Series Book 1
**Only .99 cents!!**
Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Books2Read
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.
Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads * Newsletter
$5 Amazon
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August 14, 2021
A Magical Place
I just returned from my first visit to Portugal in over six years. I had a lot of activities planned but as things often do, those plans had to change at the last minute due to my mother’s health issues. But despite the problems, I was still able to do the one thing I most wanted to: a visit to the Convento dos Capuchos in Sintra.
My Of Magic & Scales series, a gay paranormal romance, was set in Portugal. Even if you can’t afford to travel, by reading this series you’ll be taken on a tour of a lot of interesting sites in my home country, especially those around the capital, Lisbon. Of all the places I used as the background for my story, there was one I had heard a lot about it but had never actually visited. So that became my one goal for this trip: visit the magical place that provided such amazing setting for a large slice of my two protagonists’ story.
I was pleased to find out that I had a mostly correct image of what it looked and felt like. So sit back and enjoy a short photographic tour of the mystical place that the Capuchin monks of the past built and lived in all those years ago.
What I call the Picnic Area at the entrance.
Entrance to the main chapel and the enclave
Another chapel built literally under a rock.
The narrow, underground corridor where the monks’ cells are located.
One of the cells. Big enough to fit one person laying down. Doors lined in cork.
Corridor leading from the cells to the bathroom.
The bathroom: cistern and washing basin
The toilets that scared Aiden so much with a rather ingenious system of flushing
The refectory and table. Cozy and comfy.
The cloister with the fountain where Vee took a bath
A view from a window onto the roof
Just a path, Can’t you imagine fairies strolling here?
One of many moss-covered steps in the convent
Frei Honorio’s Cave where the monk came to meditate and pray. The one thing I got wrong in my story. It was a lot smaller than I thought.
A view of the ocean from the convent. Heaven!If you enjoyed this tour, come back for a video at a later date so you can experience the sounds and feel of the place. I could move in today and I am not an outdoors person at all, lol. Follow this link to a map of the place.
**All photographs property of the author. All rights reserved**
August 11, 2021
Saying Goodbye
Saying goodbye is always hard. When I was a kid I used to think that it was easier for those leaving than for those staying. My reasoning was good; when you leave you have at least something new to look forward to while those who stay have only the memories. Of course back then I didn’t know that leaving loved ones behind–especially when you have an ocean between you–without knowing when you’d see them again is heartbreaking.
Saying goodbye is always hard but it’s even harder when you are leaving an elderly mother behind. Unwanted thoughts and questions flood your mind as you share that last hug, that last kiss: will I see her again? Memories of the last time I hugged my dad come to mind. He wasn’t elderly and he wasn’t sick. Yet, that day at the airport in NY more than twenty years ago was the last time I got to hold him in my arms. He died quite suddenly a few months later. Saying goodbye to my mom who is now eighty-two years old was heart wrenching.
I guess I should’ve started by telling you I just returned from my first trip home to Portugal in over six years. The last time I’d seen my mom in person (I give thanks for the internet every day for giving me the chance to see her anytime I want however virtually) was about four years ago when she and my sister visited me in the U.S. I had tickets lined up to go last year but we all know how that worked out.
Right to left: my sister, my mom, and meIt was a strange visit. Don’t get me wrong, it was great to be back home, to see old friends, family, old haunts (and by that I mean coffee shops and beaches, lol) and eat all the things I haven’t eaten in six years. But it was still a strange visit without some of the usual perks. My sister had spent the week before our arrival running to the hospital with my mom who woke up one morning unable to hear and stand upright. She suffered from sudden deafness (caused by a still-to-be-diagnosed condition) which is apparently pretty common but hard to recover from the older you get. The day we arrived, she was at the hospital receiving treatment.
We spent a lot of the two weeks of vacation running back and forth from doctors and hospitals for varied reasons. My sister has a busted meniscus and can barely walk and my nephew was having all kinds of anxiety-induced health problems. Which made for a weird visit. But I am so glad I got the chance to be with them and I wouldn’t trade this trip for anything.
But saying goodbye killed me. Living across the Atlantic has caused me to have to say many last goodbyes: my dad, my grandparents, one of my best friends. I wish it got easier but as you get older it actually gets worse as you realize time is running out and your own mortality comes calling.
Did you ever have to say goodbye to someone knowing all too well there was a very good chance you’d never see him/her again?
August 10, 2021
Legendborn – Review
Legendborn by Tracy Deonn
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I give Legendborn an enthusiastic five stars. It’s been a while since I was this invested in a book. Everything about it spoke to me: the intricate plot, the well-developed characters, the glimpses of history mixed with fantasy and the legend of Arthur.
My own stories are mixes of different histories, different cultures so this one was just up my alley. Tracy Deonn was able to weave all these legends and lore from two very different cultures seamlessly, injecting new life into the old (and sometimes overused) stories.
As a lover of the underdog, this book didn’t disappoint me either. There was the protagonist, Bree, the only African American in a elitist Anglo-Saxon group, Sel who is viewed by all as a tool rather than a full-fledged member of the society (and who I totally fell in love with), and even Nick who seems helpless against his own fate and the will of his father.
The twist at the end was awesome too (no spoilers, lol).
Finally I must give the author kudos for not doing what some YA fiction writers do, which is water-down the language. The book is written in rich vocabulary, a reminder of the children’s books I read as a child that taught me language is a weapon with which the author either destroys or elevates you, feeding your heart and your soul.
And that cover! Perfection!
August 2, 2021
Kiss of the Swan – Cover Reveal
BlurbOnce upon a time there was a captive queen who fell in love with a tormented hero.
When Cathal follows his cruel brother into the sacred and forbidden Swan Island, he walks straight into the hands of the King’s swans and the heart of their beautiful queen.
Eala lives in a gilded cage, a puppet controlled by the king of Nem. She wants nothing else but to be free from the king’s clutches and to live happily ever after in Cathal’s arms.
While Cathal is determined to break Eala out of her cage even if he dies trying, Eala is driven by the desire to protect him and her people at all costs.
Destiny, however, has other plans.
Secrets, long hidden and forgotten, resurface as Eala and Cathal realize nothing is what it seems except their love for each other.
Will Cathal be able to free his queen without dooming himself and her people to a life of pain and misery?
Kiss of the Swan is a reimagined and fractured fairy tale drawing from stories such as Sleeping Beauty and the Tale of the Six Swans. Let the magic of the swans fill your heart and leave you breathless.
Pre-Order Available for a Special Low Price
All LINKSCover design by Adriatica Creation
June 19, 2021
Of Fire & Bone- New Release
Author: Natalina ReisTitle: Of Fire & BoneSeries: Of Magic & Scale, book 3Genre: Gay Paranormal RomanceRelease Date: June 19, 2021Publisher: Hot Tree PublishingCover Designer: BookSmith Design
NOW LIVE!Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3eUCwbxAll links: https://books2read.com/offireandbone
As if having a powerful druid and a goddess for parents doesn’t suck enough, throwing a vengeful god into the fray certainly doesn’t do Aiden any favors.Aiden Mercer’s summer has been interesting—if by interesting you mean life-threatening and heartbreaking that is. With fall fast approaching, he’s looking for a quiet time in the arms of his boyfriend, Naël, the handsome merman.Alas, life never quite goes the way you plan it, does it? Unless Aiden finds a way to stop the wicked god Baburaj and his mother, Jhanvi from achieving their devilish goals, pain and destruction will hover over him like a starving vulture.In the third and final book in the Of Magic & Scales series, the familiar cast of zany but lovable characters is back, and they are bringing reinforcements for what promises to be an epic and sexy ending. Join Aiden, Naël, and their circle of magical friends in their final adventure.**No magical creatures were harmed in the writing of this book**
Available now!
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3eUCwbx Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2K37eUK Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/3noAmUR Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/3kzMBfz iTunes: https://apple.co/2UlSTET Nook: https://bit.ly/32D2XxA Kobo: https://bit.ly/36uII6p
Of Magic & Scales Series
Available in
Of Magic & Scales
Book 1ON SALE FOR 99c!
books2read.com/OfMagicandScales
Of Scales & Fire
Book 2
books2read.com/ofscalesandfire
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | InstagramAuthor of We Will Always Have the Closet, Desert Jewel, and Loved You Always, Natalina wrote her first romance in collaboration with her best friend at the age of 13. Since then she has ventured into other genres, but romance is first and foremost in almost everything she writes.After earning a degree in tourism and foreign languages, she worked as a tourist guide in her native Portugal for a short time before moving to the United States. She lived in three continents and a few islands, and her knack for languages and linguistics led her to a master’s degree in education. She lives in Virginia where she has taught English as a Second Language to elementary school children for more years than she cares to admit.Natalina doesn’t believe you can have too many books or too much coffee. Art and dance make her happy and she is pretty sure she could survive on lobster and bananas alone. When she is not writing or stressing over lesson plans, she shares her life with her husband and two adult sons.
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June 18, 2021
Cover of the Month
They say not to judge a book by its cover but I need you to do just that. If you liked the cover of my book, Dating the Intern, please vote for it for the Cover of the Month contest on AllAuthor.com!
I’m getting closer to clinch the “Cover of the Month” contest on AllAuthor! I’d need as much support from you guys. Please take a short moment to vote for my book cover here:
Click to Vote!
June 13, 2021
Running Ragged
When you unpack your overnight bag at the hotel and realize that you forgot to pack your pajamas, your phone charger, and a book (three things you never, ever forget), you finally realize that maybe, just maybe, you have finally managed to run yourself ragged.
For the past few weeks I have been exhausted both physically and mentally, so much so that my body keeps complaining with aches and pains in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and my brain seems to be suffering from serious hiccups where I forget things, can’t focus on anything long enough, and feel irritated about the most mundane, silly things ever. This early morning person is having trouble getting out of bed in the morning, not wanting to go out at all, and with tears always on the verge of falling. It is time to reassess my life.
As I sat at a booth in an outdoor craft fair all day yesterday, it hit me: I overdone it. I have ran myself to the ground one day at a time. It took me a few years to get here but apparently I’m no super woman after all. I do have limits.
For the past five or six years I have been juggling a full-time teaching job, serious family issues, and a writing career. I have published (both traditionally and self-published) a total of fifteen books (to be sixteen in just a few more days) and written a few more (at the time of this writing I have three more finished novels and one in progress). At times, I’ve been proud of myself for handling all of this so well, but more often than not I feel guilty that I haven’t done more. I see writer friends who publish books every other month and I blame myself for not being able to do the same.
In comes the inner critic, pointing its long finger. You’re lazy. You don’t manage your time right. You don’t need so many hours of sleep. And on and on and on…. So I add guilt and despondency to my already overpacked work bag.
I was also surprised by how well I handled this crazy pandemic year and how unaffected I was compared to a lot of other people. Except I was missing the point. It just hadn’t hit me yet. But for the past few weeks, as the school year came to a close, it smacked me hard, to the point of feeling physically sick and emotionally done.
I have pushed myself too hard and it shows. Thankfully, the craziest ever, most exhausting school year is over and I’m hoping to be able to rest and focus on the fun side of writing (with a side of not so fun marketing) without pushing myself to the edge. I also want to use these few weeks to minimize by uncluttering my work space and my house in general because order relaxes me.
So yesterday was my wakeup call, my take-it-easy warning. On Friday as I got home from the last day of school all I wanted to do was to lie down and sleep, but I had to pack to go to this event. It was like torture and I, as I mentioned before, forgot quite a few important items. I was so tired during the event that the fact I sold ONE book in eight hours didn’t even bother me (I guess I can count that as a positive side effect, lol). I was so exhausted that Southern pulled chicken swimming in BBQ sauce and beans cooked with brown sugar seemed to be a great choice for my low-carb diet. I was so colossally pooped that I couldn’t keep my eyes open by 9 PM and still couldn’t get out of bed this morning.
At Blue Quartz Winery, Etlan, VAI’m taking this week off. It doesn’t mean I won’t do anything, but I decided to take it easy and not stress so much about all the deadlines hanging over my head (and there are a lot of them), my new release next weekend, or my diet. I’m going to take in as many yoga classes as I can, do my daily walks in the neighborhood, write, read, do things I enjoy, and just write and breathe.
Did you ever push yourself so hard you felt you were fragmented? What did you do to fix it?
