Susan Hanniford Crowley's Blog: From Nights of Passion Blog, page 145

Dyslexia, Writing, and Me by Stacy Hoff

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Lately, I’ve seen dyslexia related issues appear on social media more and more. I’m glad for the increase in awareness. For me, the issue of dyslexia is personal. I am dyslexic. My middle school age son is also dyslexic. Not surprisingly, dyslexia is a huge issue in my household.

There are thirty-five ways dyslexia can manifest. Of all of these manisfestations, reversal of “mirror image” letters—and numbers—is the most well-known (“b” & “d,” “q” & “p,” “6” & “9”). Less well known dyslexia traits include word “blindness” (when you can’t see an entire word) as well as a sundry of phonological weaknesses. My son and I share many of these traits.

I was lucky to grow up in New York City in the 1970’s. My parents found a center dedicated to dyslexics. After three years of therapy, I was able to “see” numbers, letters, and even entire words. I am now a full time contracts attorney, as well as a full-time author. I can’t fathom how different my life would be today if my parents hadn’t gotten me the help I desperately needed as a child. If I couldn’t read or write, my dual careers obviously never could have happened.

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Because I know how important dyslexia therapy is, I moved mountains to find dyslexia services for my son. I started searching for therapy centers as soon as he started manifesting the traits, at around third grade. Unfortunately, in my New England suburb, finding help for him was extremely difficult. The public school system fought hard against providing services, and the only private therapy center I could find had a waiting list over two years long.

Eventually, I was able to hire a Certified Dyslexia Teacher. It took me half a year to find her. Fortunately, she was willing to teach my son, despite her already full tutoring schedule. The gratitude I have to her is immeasurable. So much so, she is mentioned in the dedication page of my new book, BETTING ON LOVE IN VEGAS (Building Love series #1). It was gratifying to see her reaction when she saw her name on the page.

My son is now almost three years into his dyslexia therapy. I am happy to say he is thriving. I can only hope his growth continues. Because for my son, studying is so much harder. I always worry about his keeping up with his classmates. I know firsthand that living with dyslexia is not an easy path. I wish his journey was easier.

I write romance novels because so much in my life hinges on the HEA—the “happy ever after.” When I created my hero, Ty Orland, the multi-millionaire CEO in BETTING ON LOVE IN VEGAS (Building Love series #1), I made him dyslexic. Writing this part of my hero’s backstory was my own way of proving to myself that HEA’s for dyslexics can happen. I hope my son gets his HEA in life, too.

BETTING ON LOVE IN VEGAS is not just dedicated to a wonderful dyslexia teacher. It is also dedicated to my son.

What personal battles have you faced?

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Book blurb for BUILDING LOVE IN VEGAS

Catherine “Cat” Warner has problems. The profits from her inns are down. The pressure from her parents is up. Her love life is non-existent. But Cat did manage to get the attention of tough, powerful, gorgeous hotel magnate Ty Orland. Unfortunately, his interest in her is for all the wrong reasons. Instead of wanting Cat, this debonair CEO only wants her land—a parcel he desperately needs for his next big development deal. Too bad, it’s not for sale. A people pleaser by nature, Cat knows to stand strong. If she caves in to the demands of this sexy, alluring man, it will be her own neck on the line.

Ty Orland has a lot of things going for him. Success. Power. Respect. Unfortunately, he’s also got an old chip on his shoulder and a new financial nightmare. His development deal is going down in flames—and fast. His only way out is if Cat sells him her strategically located parcel. But romancing the land from her is not easy when love gets in the way. The woman is as beautiful as she is beguiling. And Ty no longer knows which prize is more valuable.

BETTING ON LOVE IN VEGAS (BUILDING LOVE series, book #1): http://amzn.to/2kAgBvK

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WEBSITE & SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS FOR STACY HOFF:

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorStacyHoff

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/authorStacyHoff

Web: http://www.stacyhoff.com

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JOCKEYING FOR YOU print version http://amzn.to/2eanq2o

JOCKEYING FOR YOU Kindle version http://amzn.to/2c8Hi5t

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DESIRE IN THE ARCTIC print version http://amzn.to/2cubwCf

DESIRE IN THE ARCTIC kindle version http://amzn.to/1KjfP9V

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DESIRE IN THE EVERGLADES print version http://amzn.to/2dXO1zV

DESIRE IN THE EVERGLADES Kindle version http://amzn.to/1YEseie

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LAWFULLY YOURS print version http://amzn.to/2e6Ug8k

LAWFULLY YOURS Kindle version http://amzn.to/1Ky5CZm

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SEASON OF LOVE http://amzn.to/1NsByfu

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Filed under: A writer's life, Characters, courage, Emotions, goals, Stacy Hoff, Writer's Life, Writing

Inside an Agent’s Inbox by Heather Novak

One of the coolest things about being on my chapter board for Romance Writers of America is meeting so many AMAZING people! I have become friends with several agents, some to the point where we have lunch and talk about Gilmore Girls (#TeamJess), and thus I have gleaned some insider information. I will now share this insider information with you.

After a survey, the #1 most important rule, unanimously decided, is:

1) NEVER EVER RESPOND TO AN AGENT’S REJECTION UNLESS THEY DIRECTLY ASK YOU TO.

Never.

“But Heather-“

NEVER.

“What about…”

NOPE. HARD STOP.

If you are invited to respond, or asked to revise and resubmit, then yes, respond accordingly (this means, respond with your revision.) If you have a question about the revise and resubmit, you can ask it clearly, kindly, and quickly.

I feel like I need to keep talking about not responding to a rejection, because it’s SO IMPORTANT. And this stands true for all genres. It’s pretty much the #1 piece of advice on every query and agent blog ever.

It doesn’t matter how many times you get, “I just didn’t connect” or “this just isn’t for me,” DO NOT RESPOND. Do not ask why. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

What do you do when you have no answers? Hire someone whose job it is to tell you what is working and what is not. This is not an agent’s job, unless they are YOUR agent. 

Hire a professional and get a freelance edit or manuscript critique. Also try sensitivity readers, beta readers, and wine. Lots…of…wine…

Ultimately, it could just be that there just isn’t a market for your book, and if agents can’t sell it, they don’t eat.  

Most importantly, never, ever tell an agent they’re wrong for not accepting you. It’s a small world. Don’t burn that bridge by responding.

*deep breath*

Okay, let’s continue.

2) Know what genre you write.

I’m not even kidding.

Before you send a query, before you give a pitch, know what genre your book is. If you’re not sure, you’re not ready to be querying. Here’s a basic list to get you started.

3) Here is a secret that agents cannot tell you, since no agent should ever ask you to spend money to get representation (RED FLAG). But, I’m going to tell you from my years in the field. You really need to get that manuscript professionally edited, as much as you can within your budget, before you query.

Don’t balk. Read this blog by John M. Cusick – “Publishers Don’t Want Good Books.”

The market is REALLY tough right now. It’s not good enough to be good anymore. It’s not even good enough to be great. You have to be FANTASTIC. 

There are always exceptions, always. But if you want the best shot at the best agents, find a professional editor with the most experience you can. If you can’t? Find a trusted friend. Have at least one other person read your book. AT LEAST.

4) Don’t be racist. WHY IS THIS EVEN SOMETHING I NEED TO ADD?! Get a sensitivity reader, get an editor, do whatever you need to do to check yourself. (If your book is dealing with racism, make sure you have at least one sensitivity reader.)

5) FORCED OR COERCED SEX IS NEVER OKAY BETWEEN THE HERO AND HEROINE. That’s not romance, that’s a crime. Why is this even something I need to mention? We have a responsibility to teach people about consent. If you need help figuring out how to write consent, let me know! I’ll hook you up with some amazing resources.

6) Do not stalk the agents in the bathroom. Or grocery store. Or restaurant. Or on Twitter…(oops, I kinda failed at that one…) 

Just say no.

Walk away.

Also, be respectful of their personal space. The last conference I was at (not an RWA conference), I was talking to an agent who had to hide behind me – BEHIND ME – so we could have a conversation without someone interrupting. It was like hanging out with a famous person.

7) Participate in pitch parties, interact with agents and editors on Twitter, say hi at conferences, and be kind. People will remember the good as well as the bad.

8) Look up the agent’s requirements for pitching/submission. Follow the requirements to the letter, address the agent by name. Don’t query with genres they don’t accept. Don’t send a generic letter.

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9) Make your opening lines count. Agents read fast. Some agents get five emails a day, some get hundreds. You have five seconds to make it count. You have to prove you want this and you’re worth it in around seven sentences. You can easily get query and pitching help through many writer groups online. Take the time to perfect both your story and your pitch before hitting “send.”

10) Keep writing. Some people can sell their first book, others finally sell book three or four or ten. The best chance you have is to keep coming back with strong work. Eventually, someone will notice.

Keep writing, be respectful, don’t stalk. These are my words of advice to you all!

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On this day in 1968 – Helen Keller passed away. She was an American author, lecturer and activist, campaigned for women’s suffrage, labor rights and socialism; she was blind and deaf from a young age. (b. 1880)

Wishing You Laughter & Good Books,[image error]

Heather Novak

Find me at:

Twitter: authorheathern

Instagram: authorheathern

Facebook: authorheathernovak

Hunting Witch Hazel: Now available

I was happy with my West Coast life – 24-hour pizza delivery and bikini-clad bodies as far as the eye could see. Now I’m in the small-ass town of  Hayvenwood  to extract a ransom to save my little brother’s life. And that ransom is locked inside of the sexiest witch I have ever met, Hazel Evanora.

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Filed under: romance

Our Search

Change can’t even begin to describe my life right now. A new job six months ago. Currently, my family and I are making our way across the country. A new job for the husband, new schools for the kids, a new home and the list goes on. It all gets a bit exhausting as one tries to wrap their mind around the change.

So why all the change? In our particular case, it is to be closer to family, but as I think about change and why people make such immense efforts, I realize it is because we are each searching for a better life, a better way or simply a slight degree more of happiness. For those of us who continue to push ourselves, the search is almost never ending. I used to think everyone was like this but I’ve since learned that isn’t the case. And while it may sound nice to constantly be making things better, one can also lose the happiness of the present moment because they are always looking forward.

Like anything in life, change requires balance. Too much and we can lose ourselves, too little and we risk staying stagnant in life. And while it would be great to have this balance come naturally, like anything worth having we must fight for it. We must make an effort not to sway one way or the other. And in the end, it will be worth it.

Happy writing this week!

Filed under: A writer's life, romance, Toni Kelly

Need More Sleep, lol by Mandy Rosko

Okay, so it’s about 4:30 A.M as of this writing, and I only just finished my daily word count. I seem to be getting into this bad habit of just getting my work done when it’s the dead of night (or morning) and I find I’m starting to wake up later and later in the afternoon without feeling much guilt over it @_@

 

Not sure how I feel about that. I’m not going to skip out on my word count, but at the same time, I don’t much like waking up after 1 in the afternoon either -_-

 

I’m hoping this is one of those writers problems I occasionally hear about. People tell me this is only happening because I’m a night owl and I like getting my work done when the moon is out.

 

Which doesn’t help my deadlines whenever I hand things in literally twenty minutes before they’re due, and whenever I get up courage to just pull an all nighter so I can fix this little dilema I put myself in, right around dawn I get tired, give up, and go to bed.

 

And the cycle continued ;_;

 

On the great side of things my Wattpad following is growing

Remember Those that Have Served

[image error]Today is Memorial Day in the United States. Today we honor our fallen in the U.S. military that fought to keep us free. We remember them.

“Memorial Day is an American holiday, observed on the last Monday of May, honoring the men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. Originally known as Decoration Day, it originated in the years following the Civil War and became an official federal holiday in 1971.” This is from History.com

From Susan Hanniford Crowley and the Passionate Crew of Nights of Passion

Filed under: Holidays, Memorial Day Reflection

Memorial Day Weekend Paranormal-Scope

While I recover from surgery, I let my characters run amok. Amok. Amok. Beware emotions are high this week.

While I am not qualified in any way to read neither stars nor planets, I am intimately linked to the paranormal in the world in many ways. So are you.

The paranormal-scope is for entertainment purposes only and is not meant to guide your life by.

The week for:

Aries:

Goblins lose control sometimes when they see gold. Don’t be the same way. Always sleep on a money decision, and don’t be fooled by false promises.

Taurus:

Shapeshifters can’t decide and indecision means they don’t know what face to put forward. Check all your facts before reacting.

Gemini:

Pixies bring tiny gifts that have to be appreciated for what they are – moments of joy! Be watchful for the gifts coming your way.

Cancer:

Werepugs are a delight! Enjoy your pets, friends, and/or family. This is the time to keep your loved ones close.

Leo:

Dragons like to soar through the night skies. They really don’t like crowds. Enjoy your solitude and indulge in a favorite hobby.

Virgo:

Werewolves howl with praise for your efforts. Keep up the good work and you’ll see your efforts paying off.

Libra:

Shifter bears are warm and fuzzy. A new friend who roars will come your way. Try to look past the bravado in front of others.

Scorpio:

Faeries have their own sense of fun. Try something new or go to a new place. Broaden your horizons.

Sagittarius:

Vampires prefer rainy days. Their love the industry of people not lingering but going where they need to go. Stay on the path this week. It’s not the time to dawdle.

Capricorn:

Gnomes love cooking comfort food. Enjoy and rest. You’ve been working too hard. Take a breather.

Aquarius:

Elves find puzzles fascinating. Take up a mind stretching game like Sudoku or learn a new language. Exercise your brain. Get out of your rut.

Pisces:

Mermaids avoid sharks. You should too. A little observance in the beginning of the week will keep you out of trouble. Calm seas await you and leisure time with friends.

-Susan

Susan Hanniford Crowley, Amazon Kindle Bestselling Author of Vampire Romance

www.susanhannifordcrowley.com

Where love burns eternal and whispers in the dark!

NEW: Vampire Princess of New York, Arnhem Knights of New York, Book 2 available in Kindle!  Coming soon in Print on July 4th!

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Vampire King of New York, Arnhem Knights of New York, Book 1 available in Kindle and Print and  Barnes and Noble Print

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Vampire in the Basement, Vampires in Manhattan, Book 4 available in Kindle.

Poseidon’s Catch (mythology romance) available in Kindle.

Mrs. Bright’s Tea Room (steampunk romance) available in Kindle.

A Vampire for Christmas,Vampires in Manhattan, Book 3 available in Kindle.

The Stormy Love Life of Laura Cordelais, Vampires in Manhattan, Book 2 available in Kindle and Print and Barnes and Noble Print

When Love , Vampires in Manhattan Book 1 available in Kindle and Print, Nook, Kobo and Smashwords.

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Filed under: A Vampire for Christmas, Max Vander Meer, Norse, paranormal, paranormal romance, romance, romance novels, Susan Hanniford Crowley, The Stormy Love Life of Laura Cordelais, vampire books, Vampire David Hilliard, Vampire King of New York, Vampire King of New York In Print, Vampire Maximillion Vander Meer, vampires, Viking, Weekly Paranormal-Scope, Yule

Sympathy for the Devil By Ripley Proserpina

I’m excited to announce the upcoming release of my new book, Matched with a Demon. This book, a paranormal romance, is the first in my Demon Matched series.

Matched with a Demon drew on a lot of my favorite things, mythology and history, poetry and mysticism. The research was almost as much fun as writing! June 6th, this story drops, so here, my friends, is a bit of a teaser.

****

He advanced on her, the cloud rising and swallowing her. It was alive, and it smothered her. A manifestation of every doubt and fear she ever had, she could hardly breathe beneath it. It whispered to her, you’ll never be anything, you’ll always be alone, no one loves you, you’d be a terrible mother, give up, give in. 

Stubbornly, she pushed through it, knowing Delia was hurting on the other side and she needed her. And the man—fudge, when she got out of here, she was getting his name—needed her, too.

Like moving uphill through a blizzard, she finally reached the crest of the darkness and collapsed. Kneeling, hands against the cold marble floor, she caught her breath. “Stop,” she panted.

Delia stood, feet planted on the couch, her gaze fixed angrily on her uncle. Before her eyes, an answering cloud rose around the child. Was it possible there was a color blacker than black? If so, Delia created it. Small body vibrating with energy, her hair began to whip around her head.

“Enough!” Lucia yelled. Pushing herself to her feet, she stumbled to Delia, grabbing her. The cloud immediately disappeared and black eyes met hers. “Enough, Delie.” There was a sound like a window shutting out a storm. “Enough,” she repeated. “Both of you.”

Whatever anger held the man up abandoned him. He collapsed, falling onto his butt. His arms hung limply off his knees and he stared at his hands like he’d never seen them before.

“You’re both hurt, you’re both scared. But you have each other, and you have me.” At her pronouncement, the man looked up. “Well, Delie has me. You… Never mind.”

Delia trembled, laying her head on Lucia’s arm. Smoothing the child’s now wild hair, Lucia continued, “You have family. This is your uncle. That’s good, isn’t it? And maybe he has an anger issue, but he certainly seems like he could protect you if needed.”

Lucia could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to glance his way.

“You’re not going to leave me with him?” Delia’s voice trembled, her eyes wide and scared.

“No.”

“Yes,” he answered simultaneously.

Pinning him with a glare, Lucia repeated, “No. I’m not leaving you with Uncle Grumpy-pants.”

Delia giggled. “Maybe he needs an ice cream.”

Lucia continued to watch him, pretending to contemplate her idea. “You might be right. Ice cream helps everything.”

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Filed under: romance

The Singing Dagger – Celtic Fantasy by Kylie Sabra

What possesses one to write a novel? Passion! It’s there inside of you,clawing its way out. You can’t not write it. That’s how it was for me with The Singing Dagger. I was in an emotionally abusive marriage with my—ooh do I dare say it – second husband. Dagger was an escape for me. When I look back on writing it, I rather feel like I cheated.

There were no arduous outlines. No hair-pulling bouts of writer’s block. No episodic self-doubt. I set a schedule – 6:00 pm to 6:00 am, six days a week. Each day at Noon I’d slip into silken sleep and the dreams would come. Always the next scene came to me in perfect order. I could clearly see my characters and came to know them so intimately that there was no question in my mind as to how they would respond to various situations. Although the main characters, mortal and immortal, are gifted with magical powers and are pure of heart, they have their faults and idiosyncrasies as well. I love them. I’ve heard tell an author can love his characters too much. Poppycock. Ooh did I say that out loud?

Each night I set myself a minimum of five pages of new material. Some nights might indeed see just five pages. After all, dreaming a story scene and putting it on paper are two very different animals.

Each night I’d start with editing the previous night’s work. I never had any desire to rush through these pages trying to see how much I could turn out in the shortest period of time. I was in love and my novel was my lover. We caressed each word with great care, committed to careful study of each to ensure greatest satisfaction. We? You may ask. Yes. We. My characters and I. For indeed, they had their own voice.

There are many words in a writer’s tool chest, but the joy is in determining exactly which word delivers the precise emotion, the picturesque ambiance, the subtle nuance. Which word will paint the desired landscape in the reader’s eye? Which word will perfectly describe the character’s anger, joy or despair?

The writing took about six months. I set it aside for nearly three months before turning it over to an editor. I started the book in January, 2007 and ended it in November of the same year. And then I left husband number two. The process of leaving and the writing of the novel ran parallel lines. Dagger saved me, gave me confidence to do what I had to do.

I’m including two excerpts. I could have, and maybe should have, included an intense romantic scene, but this first one makes me laugh. I hope it will you as well. The second is rife with raw emotion. Is there sex in the book? Let me just clarify. It is a Celtic Romantic Fantasy.

Intro: Aidan is visiting the four army camps ensconced around the estate. King Mordha had proven to be difficult from the beginning — with his prejudices and backward ways. In this scene – well let’s just say, the proverbial shit hit the fan.

“We need to move on to our final stop,” Aidan said to the king. “Since it’s late afternoon, Ian and Bradach may as well come with me. We need to see Mordha and then head back to the house for dinner. We’ll see you after for our nightly debriefing.”

“I look forward to it.” Fergus sent them on their way feeling hopeful, in spite of what they were riding into.

The foursome was still a ways from the stables above Mordha’s camp, when Bradach pulled up next to Aidan.

“Any reason you put Mordha’s men so close to your house?”

“They’re the smallest group and they need the most attention.” Aidan breathed a long, tired sigh. “I’ve been dreading this visit all day.”

Bradach turned his head towards Ian and Gildas. “Is that why you brought back up?”

“I guess you could say that. I have no patience with undisciplined behavior, and I don’t trust myself to respond as I probably should.”

“Oh, so you brought me along. You think I’m going to be any more controlled than you?”

“Well, one of us has to be.”

Before they even reached the stables, sounds of raucous laughter arrived on the breeze—along with something else.

Ian held his sleeve up to his nose. “What’s that stench?”

Aidan bit his lip. “This is going to be bad.”

The sight that met their eyes when they rounded the stables was worse than any of them imagined. Animal and human excrement covered the ground because Mordha’s men were too lazy to dig a ditch. They’d strewn food scraps as far as the eye could see.

Aidan pulled at Mire-chath’s reins so tightly the horse reared.

Finn and Murtagh joined them, having just returned from their encampments for the evening meal.

“Oh shit!” Finn let out a long low whistle and laughed. “Brie’s gonna to have a fit. There’s only twelve hundred of them.” He threw up his hands, still laughing. “How’d they do this in such a short time?”

The camp wasn’t even aware the Elders and their captains watched them. Music rang through the air. Mordha’s men danced jigs and emptied jugs of new beer down their throats. And the king himself reveled in the middle of the fray.

Isélad and Lennox rode up beside Aidan and Bradach.

Aidan gave them a black look. “How could you let this happen?”

“Let this happen?” Isélad said, snarling. “You think we let this happen? There’s only Lennox and me here. I wanted to kill the useless bastards,” Isélad curled his upper lip and adopted a churlish, sing-song voice, “but Lennox here didn’t think it a wise choice.”

“I would never have imagined sons of Tara to be such debauched fools,” Aidan said.

Bradach crossed his arms over his chest. “What’re you going to do?”

“Do?” Aidan gaped at him. “I find Isélad’s idea attractive.” Aidan jerked his head toward Finn. “Damn it, stop laughing.”

“I know what to do,” Finn said with a shrewd grin. He turned and rode top speed to the house. They could still hear him laughing halfway up the path.

Aidan and the others pulled away from the noxious stench and waited for Finn’s return.

Soon enough he rode past them, Brie’s long blond hair flying behind her. She had her wand drawn and was in a fury, evidenced by the fiery red of her cheeks.

Men scattered, dropping jugs, instruments and food. Finn cut several swaths through the unruly crowd until they were silent. Brie’s inhuman screams rooted them where they stood.

Finn brought his horse to a stop in the middle of the mob.

Brie jumped down and the encampment stared at her wild eyed. With the first swipe of her wand she cried, “Glan amach!” Every jug of alcohol turned upside down, emptied their contents and shattered on the ground. The men cried a vicious lament, but before they could take any action against her she waved her wand again and cried, “Glan suas!”

Excrement and debris swirled into the air and flew to the end of the field furthest from the stables and main house.

“Oh, Brie.” Finn spit and wiped his face with his hand.

Yelps of anger rose from the crowd, but none dared move. Human and animal filth covered everyone, including Brie and Finn, but the field was clear again.

Aidan, Isélad, Ian and Bradach ventured closer, shaking with laughter.

“I’m glad we stayed back.” Bradach doubled over, clutching his side.

Mordha marched up to Brie. All she could see of him through the muck were his two hamsterish eyes. “What’s the meaning of this, young lady?”

Finn dismounted and lodged himself between the king and his wife. “I know you want to be careful how you address Lady Brieanna, Mordha. Don’t forget, you’re in her home now.”

Mordha backed off a few paces.

“How dare you come into our home and treat it in this manner,” she said. “Take your men down to the water and clean yourselves up. That way.” She pointed toward the cliff path leading down to the ocean. “Don’t even think about mucking up the river.”

“How dare you address me like this.” He poked his thumb at his chest. “I am King.”

“Then act like one. Since this is how you regard our hospitality, you’ll enjoy none of it tonight.”

Mordha’s mouth hung open.

“Go,” she screamed.

He hung his head and motioned his men to follow him. They disappeared down the path as she’d told them.

Brie and Finn climbed back on their slippery horse and rode to where Aidan and the others waited near the stables.

“I don’t know about you, Bradach, but I couldn’t have handled it better,” Aidan said.

“Nothing like a riled up woman to set things straight.”

Finn pulled up to Aidan. “Whoa,” Aidan said, backing away. “That’s close enough, thank you.”

Once she calmed down, Brie got a good whiff and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh!” She retrieved her wand from her pocket and returned Finn, their horse and herself to their clean and altogether more pleasant selves.

“That’s much better,” said Bradach, laughing. “Yummy. I’m hungry.” They broke into a gallop and raced each other home.

NOTE: The Taran army has just arrived at Faerne Green, just a few miles from where the deadly battle for which they have prepared these past months will take place. Aidan is in the inn watching Erin settle herself and their baby into their room. He is coming to terms with the imminent loss of the woman he cherishes more than his own life. The Elders had told him he would have a long, happy life with her, but he knew better — felt the rending of his heart as they drew closer to her end. He recalls the vision he had when he was away with the Night Stalkers.

He closed his eyes and the dreadful hour glass imprinted on his brain. Only a few grains of sand remained and the dagger quivered impatiently. Anger snaked up through his core. She was leaving them. He clenched his fists.

She busied herself cheerfully, folding Tiernan’s clothes as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

He beat against a raw fury that made no sense. It’s not like she’s choosing to leave, but how dare she be so happy.

He threw the door open. “I’ll be back,” he said sharply over his shoulder. “I need to check on…something.” Aidan slammed the door behind him and ran to an exit at the far end of the hallway. The door opened up on a set of stairs leading down into a deserted alley. He leaned against the wall of the building and banged his head against the roughness of the unpainted pine boards. Aidan slid down the wall and came to rest on the dirt-encrusted landing.

He beat his fists against the floorboards trying to distract himself from the rising torrent inside him. Thunder boomed overhead. Lightning stabbed the sky and piercing raindrops fell, joining the first tears that sluiced down his face. The increasing ferocity of the late spring storm kept pace with the tempest railing inside him and provided cover for the unleashing of his anger.

“I can’t do this. You ask too damned much.” He shook his fist at whatever god had set this path. “I need my wife and that boy needs his mother. What gives you the right to ask so much of us?” If there was an answer, he couldn’t hear it over the shrieks without and within.

Bradach raced up the stairs to get out of the rain. He had his hood pulled down low over his face and nearly tripped over Aidan before he saw him.

Aidan leapt up and intercepted Bradach’s jaw with an uppercut, knocking him backward.

Bradach grabbed the rail and broke his fall about a quarter ways down the steep stairs. He stumbled back against the rail, rubbed his jaw and gawked at Aidan in shock.

Aidan’s body drove him the rest of the way down the steps. They landed in the mud, Aidan straddled him and drove three more punches home before Bradach threw him off and jumped to his feet.

He stood over Aidan, his knees soft and his fists clenched in defense.

“What—”

“You’re the last person I want to see.”

Bradach’s expression echoed his confusion.

“My loss, your gain. That’s the way of it, isn’t it, Bradach?”

“No, that’s not the way of it. Do you seriously believe I want her to suffer? You think I’m chomping at the bit just waiting for her to die? Of course I want her, I love her, but I would’ve never chosen this path for her. I assumed she’d live to be a grandmother, a great grandmother even. I wanted her to have a full life, a man that worshipped her as much as you do and children that adored her.”

Aidan flew at Bradach.

“I didn’t choose this path, Aidan. She did.”

Aidan’s body went slack. He fell rather than plowed into Bradach, who caught him. “No, she wouldn’t do that.” He wept while Bradach held him.

The storm was subsiding.

I am working now on The Lost Child, book two of the Caitriona Prophesy. I’m happily married to husband number three. We’ve been together ten years now. And no. I’ll not be leaving him with the publication of The Lost Child.

You can purchase The Singing Dagger on Amazon.com.

 

Filed under: romance

Happy Memorial Day by Stacy Hoff

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To all my Passionate Readers,

I wish you a wonderful Memorial Day—one filled with love, compassion, peace, and remembrance.

I am spending the weekend with my family, simply hanging around in the house, and enjoying being around those I love. But I’m also thinking about the families who are not whole, those who have lost their beloveds—men and women who died while serving in the armed forces.

My heart goes out to all these families. This Memorial Day, let us remember them all.

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WEBSITE & SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS FOR STACY HOFF:

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Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorStacyHoff

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/authorStacyHoff

Web: http://www.stacyhoff.com

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BETTING ON LOVE IN VEGAS (BUILDING LOVE series, #1) http://amzn.to/2kAgBvK

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JOCKEYING FOR YOU print version http://amzn.to/2eanq2o

JOCKEYING FOR YOU Kindle version http://amzn.to/2c8Hi5t

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DESIRE IN THE ARCTIC print version http://amzn.to/2cubwCf

DESIRE IN THE ARCTIC kindle version http://amzn.to/1KjfP9V

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DESIRE IN THE EVERGLADES print version http://amzn.to/2dXO1zV

DESIRE IN THE EVERGLADES Kindle version http://amzn.to/1YEseie

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LAWFULLY YOURS print version http://amzn.to/2e6Ug8k

LAWFULLY YOURS Kindle version http://amzn.to/1Ky5CZm

Filed under: romance, Stacy Hoff

How Music Pulled Me From Nothingness by Heather Novak

I’ve been staring at my computer screen for months, waiting for words to come. Any words. A blog, a song, a poem, a silly kids book, the books I have editors waiting for…anything.

The beginning of October was one of the happiest weeks of my life when I married the love of my life. The day after we returned from our honeymoon, everything went into a downward spiral into the darkest my life has ever been. For months, everything revolved around trips to the hospital, talking to hospice and doctors several times a day, then funeral arrangements, and finally, grief. Suddenly, my mom was gone.

I have experienced close and personal loss before, which was followed by writer’s block, but this was vastly different. I was in a downward tailspin into total nothingness.

My day job as a ghostwriter was an hourly struggle – heck, a per-minute struggle – and was made even worse when a coworker broke off our friendship mere days after I returned to work after the funeral. I couldn’t find solace in work or in writing.

For months, I thought I was done being a writer.

Then, I heard an interview from Josh Ramsay, lead singer of Marianas Trench and everything changed. (MT is a Canadian rock band that creates brilliant concept albums and you need them in your life.) Josh, in addition to writing for MT, co-writes songs for other artists (best known for Call Me Maybe.) But after the breakup with his fiancee and his mother becoming very ill, his words dried up, too.

In his interview, he says, “I couldn’t write, I couldn’t write anything. And then I spent about six months in the total dark…”

 I cried, because that’s exactly what I was feeling. He continued to say eventually the creativity came back and he couldn’t get the ideas down fast enough. 

I probably watched the interview like six times, then when I woke up the next day, I saw a glimmer behind my own darkness. I realized the darkness was not a black hole, but a thick, opaque veil. I played the Astoria and Ever After albums from cover to cover, then searched out a lot of the live music (thank you cellphone cameras and YouTube!). The following day when I woke up, I had the opening paragraph for a book I wanted to write.

Yeah, okay, it was just one paragraph, BUT IT WAS ONE PARAGRAPH! The veil snapped back in place, but not before I understood that it was temporary. 

The following day, I wrote 520 words. Then after, I added a few more. Am I back to writing 1500 to 2000 words an hour? Not even a little bit. But it’s amazing to not be living in a void anymore.

So, Josh and MT, while you don’t know me from Crazy Fangirl #346984750845, thank you for getting me through one of the worst months of my life.

Here’s an a cappella cover of my favorite MT song, Porcelain. My favorite line, “When your heart releases/you won’t fall to pieces/let those old disease lie…”

And here is my favorite MT video to date – one word: PUPPIES.

Thanks for reading, NoP friends.

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On this day in 1925 – Rosario Castellanos was born. She was a Mexican poet and author, known for her work dealing with cultural and gender oppression, considered one of Mexico’s most important literary figures of the 20th century (d. 1974)

Wishing You Laughter & Good Books,[image error]

Heather Novak

Find me at:

Twitter: authorheathern

Instagram: authorheathern

Facebook: authorheathernovak

Hunting Witch Hazel: Now available

I was happy with my West Coast life – 24-hour pizza delivery and bikini-clad bodies as far as the eye could see. Now I’m in the small-ass town of  Hayvenwood  to extract a ransom to save my little brother’s life. And that ransom is locked inside of the sexiest witch I have ever met, Hazel Evanora.

Filed under: romance