Elise Hepner's Blog, page 14

New Writer's Week: Tilly Greene

The Dirty Details of Being a Writer
by Tilly Greene

Have you ever heard a writer complain about being tied to their desk for days without food or water?  Or how they’re working so hard they’re living in their pj’s for weeks?  What about making you cry for them upon hearing how terrible the deadlines they face are?

Well, here’s the truth:  it’s all true and also all lies.

Don’t get me wrong, writing is rough.  We fight through plot blocks and glittering diversions at the same time as trying to put out three meals a day, the laundry and cleaning.  By the time we turn off the computer, we’re happy getting a few thousand words and positively ecstatic if it’s even more.

Okay, so it’s all a bit melodramatic, I’m sorry to go there and I promise, no more.

In all honesty, writing is very hard and yet rewarding and I am lucky to have it as my job.  I look forward to going to work every day and not many people can say that with a straight face.  There are so few jobs that allow a person to let their creative side free reign.

So how does the magic happen?  How does someone get the book they’ve had spinning around in their head for years finally written down and ready to submit to a publisher?  Oh, I think now is a good time to tell you that the writing is actually the easiest part of getting your book published, the hard stuff comes letter with the various rounds of self-editing before it ever hits the submission, editing and promoting stages.

Since I’ve burst your bubbles, are you ready for the good stuff, the biggest secret of all when it comes to publishing?  I swear, no more holding back.  I’m going to do the Oz thing, pull the curtain down and tell you the hidden secret is called BiC or Butt in Chair.

That’s right, absolutely nothing, NOTHING, gets done until you physically sit down, turn on the computer and start typing.  If you need help stepping into the writer’s zone, then here are a few hints of how to get started.

·    Pick a word and write five hundred words using it as the title, inspiration or plot.
·    Set aside thirty minutes and write, without stopping, whatever comes to your mind.
·    Choose a painting and write five hundred words writing what it depicts.
·    Flick through a magazine, find a photograph and create a plot involving the people, then write the first sentence of their story.
·    Watch a movie and write five hundred words involving one of the characters, but in a totally different genre than what they were in.

30 minutes, five hundred words, one sentence … I hear you:  why the limits?  Well, since we’re getting real here then I’ll tell you that the dirty side of writing is the existence of actual limits.  There are chapter and book lengths, strict timelines to follow and often a third person stating what they want you to write.

Don’t go putting a crown on your manuscript yet, you need to roll up your sleeves and put in the hard labor before you get to the good stuff - your release day!

So, there you go, a few tools to get you writing.  Now, unlock your imagination and write, write, write!

Tilly Greene
Scorching romances full of twists, turns and ties.
www.tillygreene.com

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LEATHER BRIDE by Tilly Greene
Contemporary Erotic Romance + Fetish, Exhibitionism and Bondage



Coming soon from Ellora’s Cave

There are two things on Mimi’s mind—her lover Rick, and how he’s finally given in and bound her. Everything is wonderful until a mysterious trip calls him away.

Mimi tries to back out of walking the runway at the Safe, Sane and Consensually Wild fashion show, where she and her lover were set to model leather goods. She’s the muse behind the collection and the designer, her friend, won’t hear of her not modeling.

A misunderstanding threatens to tear them apart, but a fashion show could bring Mimi and Rick closer together.

New Writer's Week: Alanna Coca

Thanks for having me for New Writer's Week! Although I don't consider myself "new" I'm far from "old". My first book was published in December of 2008. That book had been dragged from notebook to Mac, then from floppy disk to a PC. It quite literally took me decades to write Wyoming Solace, though in my defense, there were several years where I didn't write a word.
I wrote chapter one, then wrote the ending. I went back and wrote chapter two, then tweaked some of the ending. I bounced around so much on that book, I'm surprised it came together at all, but the story was in my head, and it just had to be told. Even while I focused on my day job and my son—as a single mother I didn't have a whole lot of spare time in those early days—I had this story bursting to be written.
One day in late 2006 or so, I found these floppy discs. Luckily I had an old enough computer to actually read the discs (no old lady jokes now). I read through the hodge-podge, with missing chapters and I'd changed the hero's name from Jareth (as a teen I simply loved Labyrinth) to Jared to be more historically accurate. I named my heroine Elise (Nice name, right?) I changed Elise's companion from Molly to Daniel, which spurred several other changes throughout the story. But there was enough there to make me think that I could actually finish this book.At that point I had no idea what I'd do once I did, but as I sat down and typed out the rest, I realized how much fun it was. Simply putting the story that sat in my brain for so long into words was a very liberating experience!
When I finally connected all the pieces, I immediately printed it out and filed the manuscript away for a month or so. Finally I got the nerve to query agents and Harlequin. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, other than a "no thank you", there was the slim chance that someone somewhere would see potential. It took almost four months for all of my rejections to trickle in. I got online one day to find the contact information for other romance agents and publishers.
That's when I discovered the wonderful world of epublishing. Now, remember back in 2007 the Kindle was a glimmer in Bezos' eye. I had yet to even read an ebook. I sent Wyoming Solace to Liquid Silver Books, and was shocked and amazed when the Acquisitions Director asked me for the full manuscript. A few weeks later, they offered me a contract. I remember staring at my email with a huge smile on my face, and I might have screamed just a little bit.
Of course I accepted. I was thrust into the world of edits, where my poor editor had to break me of things like my overabundant adjective usage, head hopping, passive voice, and my apparent love for ellipses…though I still love those things. I learned quickly that I needed a website, I wrote my very first blog post, adopted my pen name Olivia Brynn for my spicier stories, and opened my eyes to the huge and wonderful world of publishing.  Wyoming Solace released December 15th 2008. I immediately began several other stories. In August of this year, I re-released Wyoming Solace, and so now it's my first book and my latest release. I've posted the first chapter on my website if you'd like to check it out.
Five years ago, I would have sworn that the only path to a happy author included an agent and a big New York publisher. Now? I've stopped shopping for agents. In my opinion the publishing industry has shifted away from the need for representation (though a contract lawyer would be helpful). I no longer think of print publishing as the be-all-end-all. I've got my fingers in several pots, including self-publishing my backlist, and I'm very happy where I am.
Alanna CocaWebsiteTwitterFacebook

New Writer's Week: Alanna Cocoa

Thanks for having me for New Writer's Week! Although I don't consider myself "new" I'm far from "old". My first book was published in December of 2008. That book had been dragged from notebook to Mac, then from floppy disk to a PC. It quite literally took me decades to write Wyoming Solace, though in my defense, there were several years where I didn't write a word.
I wrote chapter one, then wrote the ending. I went back and wrote chapter two, then tweaked some of the ending. I bounced around so much on that book, I'm surprised it came together at all, but the story was in my head, and it just had to be told. Even while I focused on my day job and my son—as a single mother I didn't have a whole lot of spare time in those early days—I had this story bursting to be written.
One day in late 2006 or so, I found these floppy discs. Luckily I had an old enough computer to actually read the discs (no old lady jokes now). I read through the hodge-podge, with missing chapters and I'd changed the hero's name from Jareth (as a teen I simply loved Labyrinth) to Jared to be more historically accurate. I named my heroine Elise (Nice name, right?) I changed Elise's companion from Molly to Daniel, which spurred several other changes throughout the story. But there was enough there to make me think that I could actually finish this book.At that point I had no idea what I'd do once I did, but as I sat down and typed out the rest, I realized how much fun it was. Simply putting the story that sat in my brain for so long into words was a very liberating experience!
When I finally connected all the pieces, I immediately printed it out and filed the manuscript away for a month or so. Finally I got the nerve to query agents and Harlequin. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, other than a "no thank you", there was the slim chance that someone somewhere would see potential. It took almost four months for all of my rejections to trickle in. I got online one day to find the contact information for other romance agents and publishers.
That's when I discovered the wonderful world of epublishing. Now, remember back in 2007 the Kindle was a glimmer in Bezos' eye. I had yet to even read an ebook. I sent Wyoming Solace to Liquid Silver Books, and was shocked and amazed when the Acquisitions Director asked me for the full manuscript. A few weeks later, they offered me a contract. I remember staring at my email with a huge smile on my face, and I might have screamed just a little bit.
Of course I accepted. I was thrust into the world of edits, where my poor editor had to break me of things like my overabundant adjective usage, head hopping, passive voice, and my apparent love for ellipses…though I still love those things. I learned quickly that I needed a website, I wrote my very first blog post, adopted my pen name Olivia Brynn for my spicier stories, and opened my eyes to the huge and wonderful world of publishing.  Wyoming Solace released December 15th 2008. I immediately began several other stories. In August of this year, I re-released Wyoming Solace, and so now it's my first book and my latest release. I've posted the first chapter on my website if you'd like to check it out.
Five years ago, I would have sworn that the only path to a happy author included an agent and a big New York publisher. Now? I've stopped shopping for agents. In my opinion the publishing industry has shifted away from the need for representation (though a contract lawyer would be helpful). I no longer think of print publishing as the be-all-end-all. I've got my fingers in several pots, including self-publishing my backlist, and I'm very happy where I am.
Alanna CocaWebsiteTwitterFacebook

New Writer's Week: Crymson Hart

Vampires, Bigfoot, and a Coffin Named Jerry

Yeah I know what you’re thinking, why would a coffin be named Jerry? That is the easy question to answer. Jerry, is the six foot coffin that my husband and a friend of his built a couple of Halloweens ago. Jerry resides in my dining room filled with Living Dead Dolls, which are dolls that come in their own coffins. Since my husband was about to build me shelves to house my collection, we ended up sticking them in Jerry and now they have a good home. Yeah I know, it’s odd to have a coffin in my dining room, but it really does make a great conversation piece. Then there’s Bob, the six foot animatronic Halloween butler, we have behind our television set in the living room. He really gets people going when they cover over, but he never does a good job at cleaning.





My friends have always asked me why I don’t decorate for Halloween because I love it so much, considering my coffin and the butler. Don’t need to since my house is decorate all year round for Halloween that and we don’t get a lot of kids who come looking for candy in my neighborhood and we’re not on a main street. If we were, then I would have an elaborate setup, graveyards and ghosts, vampires that pop out of the bushes and Bigfoot trying to find his alien…oops sorry already did that.

So getting to Bigfoot. Haven’t you ever wondered if Bigfoot gets lonely as he lumbers through the woods? So what happens when he sees a spaceship crash land to Earth? It was actually a conversation I had last Halloween with some other author friends of mine that got me to the idea of how would you write a Bigfoot romance with an alien? That was when Hairy & Hung was born. Personally I could believe in Bigfoot and aliens…well I don’t like to think of little green or grey men taking me hostage and probing me all night long. So I think about vampires instead and how well Jerry would love to have a vampire living inside of his wooden paneling. It make a great addition to my already Halloweenesque house.

So enjoy your Halloween and maybe go as Bigfoot and his alien!
 
BLURB:
When Phillip went to investigate the space ship he saw crash, he wasn’t planning on discovering an unconscious green woman. All he was trying to do was mess with the Bigfoot hunters who were after him. But seeing his outer space beauty, he knows that she can’t be captured or she'll end up on the military’s dissection table.

Alika never planned on crashing to Earth. Upon waking she discovers a large, hairy beast, with intelligent eyes who wishes to help her. Once they figure out how to communicate their goals are united. Get her off the planet before the military finds her.

Although Phillip wants to help Alika, he finds himself caring for her. Can she reciprocate his feelings? What happens when she leaves? As the army draws nearer, Phillip will do anything for his green skinned alien even if it means giving up everything.

Excerpt:
She got up from the bed and crossed the cave to stand before him. He was over seven feet tall, and her head came to the center of his torso. She realized that he could do her real damage. His hand could encompass her head. Those nails could shred skin through to the muscle if they wanted. And yet, Alika knew that he would never hurt her. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the coarse fur of his pelt. Phillip was remarkably clean, with no insects in his hair or clumps of dirt. She did admire that. I guess I was wrong about him eating some parasite before. He jumped at her touch. Alika slid her fingers over the hardness of his abdomen, touching the man underneath.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She gazed into his deep brown eyes and smiled. “Are you functional?”
Confusion lit his thoughts. “What do you mean?”
Alika slid her hand lower over his stomach to his groin, and she felt the semierect shaft and his balls hidden behind a deeper patch of fur. She was happy to discover that his shaft was hairless. She had been mounted by creatures with hairy pricks in the past. It was very uncomfortable with the hair jabbing her in all the wrong places when all she wanted was a pleasant experience. Alika stroked his cock a few times until she felt it firm up. Her smile widened before she looked him in the eye. “You are functional.”
A blast of fury seared her mind, and Phillip pulled away from her. “I am functional, as you say, but you don’t have the right to touch me so.”
She shook her head, not understanding why he was fighting her. “You have been alone for so long. Your mate has gone on. Surely you must yearn for companionship. Let me give that to you while I’m here. To show my appreciation for you saving me.” “I won’t have you pitying me. Why would you desire me in this form?”
“There is no pity,” she said, stripping off the fabric around her and standing before him naked. Alika ran her fingers over her breasts and pinched her nipples until they were pert. From his thoughts, she knew that he was attracted to her. From the reaction of his dick pointing at her, she knew that he desired her. She swayed her hips and banished the distance between them, pressing her body against his. His thick pelt scratched her in a good way and made her warm in the chilly cave. She slid her hand over his length again, took one of his hands, and placed it on her breast. “I find you pleasing in both forms. I enjoy big, strong men. So do many women on my planet. Goddess Dirvan knows that there aren’t enough to go around. You would do quite well there, have many women waiting to pleasure you. We are a population where only one male child is born in ten thousand. Come now, Phillip. Let me do this for you.” She stood up on tiptoe and pushed her lips into his.

Hairy & Hung is out with Purple Sword Publications. 

Buy link

Check out Crymsyn Hart @ www.ravynhart.com
Twitter: @crymsynhart   
Blog: www.crymsynhart.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/crymsynhart

BIO: Crymsyn Hart's worlds are filled with luscious vampires, gorgeous gods, quirky witches, and everything else that goes bump in the night. Hell, there is even a delicious cheesecake god floating around, but if I were you I wouldn’t eat his brownie cheesecake.
Crymsyn worked as a psychic for many years in Boston while attending Emerson College. She graduated with a BFA in Writing, Literature, & Publishing. Crymsyn shares her life with a small zoo, two playful puppies and her hubby Mark. If you come after dark, you’re more than likely to find her snuggled up with a gory horror movie, or a bloody vampire movie.  Crymsyn has a collection of Living Dead Dolls and five bookshelves overflowing with books. Of course there's always room for more.

New Writer's Week: Kay Jaybee

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. There are genuinely days when I can’t believe that I have this amazing life. Somehow I have gone from being an archaeologist, via being a wife and mother, to an erotica writer, and I’m still not sure how it happened!

There are was sat in a coffee shop one day seven years ago, daydreaming out of the window, when an idea for a truly dirty story came into my mind from absolutely nowhere! I felt a compulsion to write it down- which I did, on a napkin- and, after a great deal of indecision, I wrote it up properly and sent it off to Cleis Press to see if they’d publish it- and they did!!



That first story was called Jen and Tim, and was one of the stories Violet Blue featured in her Lips Like Sugar collection back in 2005.


(Blogger's note: Lips Like Sugar edited by Violet Blue has just been re-released with a brand spanking hot new cover and the same scintillating contents!)

That was just over seven years ago, and I’m still in shock that things have gone so well. Since those early days I’ve gone on to have three novels (The Perfect Submissive and The Voyeur for Xcite, and Making Him Wait for Sweetmeats Press), three novellas, including the Amazon bestseller, A Sticky Situation (Xcite), and several solo anthologies (such as Quick Kink One and Two, and Yes Ma’am , Xcite) published.

My very first solo book, The Collector , published back in 2008, will always have a special place in my heart. Having a short story or poem in a joint anthology is an incredible feeling, but to see your very first solo piece- to hold your very own book in your hands- there is no feeling in the world like it!

I am delighted to say that this month, The Collector is to be re-released! With a modern new cover and a beautifully fresh look!





The Collector sits silently alone, engrossed in her tales of lust, submission and dominance. Has she already engraved your erotic exploits on her salacious list?
 
She may look like she is scribbling randomly in her notebook, but she is secretly listening to, and recording, the overheard fantasies and indiscretions of others.
 
Forever hungry for stories, when The Collector's sources run dry, her appetite for tales of instruction and voyeurism drives her to do some research of her own before sharing her provocative experiments on paper.
 
It is time for the world’s raunchiest chronicler to come to light.
 
The 21 stories included in this book have been compiled by an anonymous central narrator referred to as the Collector, who either acquires the tales from a willing third party (Cupboard Lust), or overhears information and fills in the blanks herself (Learning). Not a call girl or a sex club queen, she sits in coffee shops by day, gaining a strange pleasure from writing up her salacious literature in public. Traveling on public transport as much as possible, listening to conversations in restaurants, pubs and cafes, she keeps her eyes and ears open for potential material. When sources run dry the Collector takes matters into her own hands, engineering situations worth writing about by doing some direct research (Treasure).
 
Occasionally she visits the select clubs and private houses of the Home Counties, which guarantee to provide the type of material required to retell the most erotic of adventures (Tequila). Divided into chapters, the stories vary in length from 250 words to c.4000 words. Each tale is pulled together with a short narrative, which offers a brief history to the piece, without frustrating the reader intent on the stories themselves. From New Territory, which provides information about both our narrator and her writing, to Alone, The Collector takes the reader through every gambit of the sexual experience. Lust, submission, dominance, instruction, voyeurism and masturbation, are all observed within the genres of heterosexual, lesbian, and solo sex.

Here’s a mini-excerpt from the first story, New Territory, just to whet your appetite...

It hadn’t seemed significant when he’d noticed which page she’d left the colour supplement open at. Perhaps it wasn’t; coincidences happened all the time. No. He saw now that it was no accident; she had been trying to tell him something.
 
She was sat at the corner table at the very back of the coffee shop. The armchairs were rather comfortable in that area; he always tried to sit there. As he worked his way along the queue, collecting an almond danish and ordering a frighteningly large black coffee, he watched her. Sitting slightly upright, she was partially obscured by a copy of The Observer, her long booted legs curled under the armchair, her red hair framing her small face. She was sipping a cappuccino. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her develop a foam moustache, and quite uncaring, lick it off with her tongue. He looked away and concentrated on his tray as he pushed towards the till. It was disconcerting to find himself aroused by such a simple act.
 
He paid, collected his sugar and turned to find a seat. He could have sat anywhere, but she already felt like an itch needing a scratch. He had to talk to her. So what if she told him to
piss off; he was only going to ask if he could share the table.
 
He asked and she inclined her head, not glancing up for more than a second; so he sat. This was new territory for him; he’d never felt such a need to say something, anything. He was the good looking one, the one who never had to say anything. They came to him. Now the silence seemed to be an oppressive presence in itself, like a whole extra person in the room who wasn’t saying anything.
This was ridiculous. He picked up his own paper, folded it to the business pages and took a bite of his pastry, trying not to mind that icing sugar was dusting his new black jacket.
 
She’d finished her drink. He flirted with the idea of offering to buy her a new one, but quickly dismissed it. He hadn’t even said hello to her. So why did he feel that time was running out? Why did he feel a strange sensation of panic that she was going to leave before he’d heard her voice?
 
As she unfolded her legs and tided her paper, she picked up her large brown rucksack, pulled out some keys and stood in front of him. He looked up into her face. He was being assessed. It was a strange sensation; he usually did the assessing.
 
‘Are you coming then?’ She spoke very softly, her green eyes shining with a sort of inner power.
 
He was about to ask if she was sure, but she’d already turned around and was heading for the door.
He was well aware of the fact that he was probably about to make a total fool of himself, but he followed anyway. She walked very quickly; striding along in impossibly high heels. It hadn’t occurred to him until that point that she might be a hooker. What if she was? He’d just walk away. Maybe?
He followed as she turned down a gap between two shops.
 
There was a flight of black iron stairs that led up to a flat above one of them. She stopped. ‘Two things,’ she undid her leather jacket as she spoke, hitching her scarf open to reveal a delicate neck completely unadorned by jewellery. ‘One; I do not do this for money, and two; I am not inviting you in for coffee.’
 
He nodded, undid his own coat, and followed her up the steps. The hall was very narrow. It led to a modest kitchen diner, where she placed her paper, spread open, on the table. Sorting out the magazine, she opened it up as if she was going to settle down to read, but then didn’t.
 
He hadn’t got as far as making small talk. In fact he hadn’t even got as far as attempting to make small talk, when she took him by the hand and led him into the small living room, sitting him down on the small maroon sofa. She knelt and, placing a restraining hand on his leg, undid his shoes and placed them neatly to one side. Then she did the same with his socks.
 
That was when his body stopped making his hands clammy and his heart beat faster, and sent all excess blood directly to his dick. He’d known he’d been half way to a hard-on already, but now there was no disguising the fact...
Thank you ever so much for inviting me to visit you today, Elise.

If you’d like to find out more about The Collector, or any of my other stories, then why not pop over to my website www.kayjaybee.me.uk

Other ways to find Kay:

Twitter
Goodreads
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New Writer's Week: Lydia Micheals

A True Cinderella StoryRomance Author Lydia Michaels
I began writing not to get rich, but because I felt driven to put words on a page.  I had a nagging sense of obligation, a compulsion to write my story, that only grew more and more difficult to ignore as time went on.  So on December 7, 2007 I put my two-year-old daughter to bed, sat down at my computer, and began to type.  By the next morning I had pounded out fifty pages. 
I became obsessed with writing.  I finished my first manuscript in less than one month on about three hours of sleep a night.  I was so proud of my work that I rushed out and had five copies printed and bound.  I then dropped a copy off with each of my closest friends. Of course the pages were littered with typos, but the plot was there and the reviews I received were very good. 
I spent months polishing and revising my manuscript, putting well over 40 hours a week into my craft.  The funny thing about revisions is that each time you edit a story you arrogantly assume it is as perfect as it can get, but then you read it again and become disgusted with how much it can actually be improved.  I realized my book was like a house; it would never be completely finished. Publishing my book would be the only way to stop my obsessive refinement.  So I edited my manuscript one more time and sent it out to fifteen agents and ten publishers.
I waited a grueling six months for all of my replies and with each rejection a small piece of me died a little.  Rejection is difficult no matter who you are.  When you put your heart and soul into something, only to be so universally discarded, it can be crushing.  Being an author is a very personal experience.  No one will ever love your manuscripts as much as you do, at least not when you are a new author without any fans.  In the beginning I cried a lot, but I always brushed myself off and tried again.
After I read my first manuscript so many times even the sight of it made me sick, I decided I needed to take a different approach, so I wrote something new.  My theory was: the more manuscripts I could submit the more probable it was for my work to get published.  I wrote my next novel, a ninety thousand-word romance, in ten days. It was a sweet, warm and fuzzy story about a young mother.  I submitted that manuscript to fifteen publishers over the span of two years.  Some took an interest and asked for more, but in the end I received fifteen more rejections. 
There is a lot of time spent waiting when you are a new author. Typically the wait period on a submission is three months.  If the publisher is interested he or she may ask you to send some sample chapters.  After a few more months they may request the entire manuscript.  It then takes another length of time for them to read and reply.  All in all it can take anywhere between six months to a year to hear back from just one company and it’s devastating when all you hear is bad news.  Rather than spend this time pining away, waiting for replies, I spent it writing.  In those two years my work became better, more polished.  My characters became more developed and my plots more intricate.  My typos dropped from 1,000 to 200.  That may still seem like a lot, but on a first draft of a manuscript over 120,000 words I assure you it’s not. 
For three years I had blown out my birthday candles with one wish on my mind.  Please let me be published.  The week of my thirtieth birthday I received my thirtieth rejection.  I felt like an absolute fool. I spent six months thinking about other career choices.  After finally admitting to myself that there was nothing else I would rather do than write, I gave myself a six-month extension.  You see my two year old was now a five year old and entering kindergarten.  It seemed silly for me to work from home when all of my hard work amounted to nothing, but there was still a small part of me that could not give up.  I spent the summer before my daughter started school reevaluating all of my rejections.  What did the publishers like?  What did they criticize?  If I found a weakness in my writing I studied ways to overcome it.  I then brainstormed.  What did publishers want to publish?  Once I had my ideas in order I began to write what would either be my first published book or my last submission.
In June I had written 75,000 words, the first half of what would be my next manuscript.  I gave a copy to one of my friends in my book club and two days later she called to yell at me.  How could I leave her hanging like that?  I had better start typing as soon as I got home!  She loved it!  She told me there was just something different about this story.  Perhaps it was desperation, lol. Her optimism fueled my energy to try harder.  I completed the first draft by September and submitted it. 
Mid-September, my thirty-first birthday, as I blew out the candles on my cake, I wished one last time, Please let me be published.  A week later I received a very cold, generic rejection, the kind that tells you the publisher barely glanced at your work, and those little broken pieces inside of me seemed to come crumbling down.  As much as I wanted to be an author, as much as I wanted to follow my dreams, I felt like Wendy when she had to force herself to leave Never Never Land.  I needed to grow up, stop fantasizing, and join the real world. I remained hopeful against all odds for almost four years, but I had run out of optimism.  Then everything changed.
Two weeks later, on September 29, 2011 I opened up my mail and saw what was likely another rejection, but I did not cry.  Yes, there were no tears at first, not until I read the words, “We would like to publish your book.”
It took me a moment to comprehend that I was not reading another rejection.  It didn’t completely sink in until I read on and saw the projected publication dates.  My heart began to pound, yet I don’t think I was breathing.   I read the letter out loud and when my ears actually heard the words I screamed and burst into tears.  My dreams were coming true!  I picked up my daughter and danced around my home like a loon.  By the time I made my first call to family I was shaking and crying so hard the person on the other line couldn’t make out what I was saying.  When they finally understood they screamed as well (right in the middle of the dollar store).  I had friends screaming and dancing all over the place once I sent out a text.  
It was a moment I don’t think I will ever forget, a moment just before all faith was lost, but then suddenly found.  For all of you struggling authors out there, don’t give up!  If you love to write as much as I do, stick with it!  Try and try again for as long as you can.  I am proof that with enough heart and determination dreams do come true!
That article was written a year ago and I still feel every bit of the passion I felt then, only so much has changed. I love to encourage new authors, because I still consider myself new. First, if you write, you are an author. Don’t wait for others to validate your talent. My first year ‘out there’ has been insane and beyond incredible. Am I rich? Not even close! But that was never the goal. The goal was to follow my dreams. So here is a brief summery of my first year as a published author.
I was accepted by Siren Publishing in September 2011. They contracted The Order of Vampyres, an erotic Amish vampyre series that now has three books (more to come) and recently won the Top Bite Award from Bitten by Paranormal Romance. If you like a good vamp saga, check out The Order, but warning, you should really read them in order (pardon the pun).
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I spent the winter writing and editing and learning the ropes. In spring of 2012 I began finishing my New Castle series. It was the first romance series I had ever written and it basically needed to be rewritten, a daunting task, but I did it. I then submitted it and—what do you know—it was picked up by Secret Cravings Publishing! The first New Castle book, White Chocolate, was just released this August and All 4 You {New Castle 2} just came out this month and has already climbed to the top of several bestseller charts. 
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It is an incredible feeling to actually see my name out there, but the most magical feeling comes when a reader tells me they enjoyed something I wrote. I love my readers and they make everything worthwhile!
I definitely believe I am living my own Cinderella story. I can’t even begin to describe my emotions over the past ten days. My world literally shifted. Last Tuesday I opened my mail and found a contract for Breaking Perfect, an erotic MMF romance I write. That afternoon I was contracted for another 6 books in a new Irish series, McCullough Mountain! The first of that series, Sacred Waters, comes out spring 2013. And then something incredible happened…
It is widely known that you can’t get into the “Top 6” New York publishing houses without an agent. I am still searching for my agent (If you’re reading this…feel free to shoot me an email and let me know where you’ve been. LOL). Well, I took a chance and at the Lori Foster Reader Author Get Together this year. I mingled with some pretty talented authors, agents, and I even had a chance to pitch to some of the big guys. I returned home from the convention and wrote my heart out, thinking sooner or later I’m going to write the one. Well, I wrote it. Just last week I was contacted by Penguin regarding a new trilogy I wrote this summer! I made it!
Life is an incredible (an emotional) journey. Thirteen months ago I thought about giving up. Today I have 16 books contracted and many more to come! My fans are absolutely incredible and spend a good part of each day being thankful for the path my life has taken, even the dips along the way. I now go to schools and talk to children about following their dreams. This summer I got a letter from a little girl that said, “Ms. Michaels, you aimed for the moon and became a star.” When I read that line I burst into tears. I think that was the moment I realized my dreams had come true.
All I can tell you is if you love writing, stick with it! 
Where can you find Lydia Michaels?
Lydia can be found/reached at www.LydiaMichaels.orgFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lydia-Michaels-Author-Fan-Page/212130595513597Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lydia-Michaels/e/B0071ZV41G/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/lydia-michaelsBookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/lydia-michaels
 

New Writer's Week

The Nirvana of Tea Experiences

It's happened--the day my husband has tried to put off since the dawn of time--I've found Teavana. And I imagine the results won't be good for my wallet. Before I'd always had my tea in either k-cup or tea bag form. And I'm talking run of the mill Celestial Seasonings, whatever will give me my fix, cheap. But after my first cup of Acai Mateini Mate tea from Teavana and the words that sprung out of my little fingers? I'm ruined for any other tea. Done. Kaput.

I almost feel bad for the other teas sitting in my cupboard, they will be thoroughly ignored for their fancy relatives until I can no longer afford Teavana any longer. Which, considering the prices, is highly likely to be soon. I will take gift cards with a smile. Donate to the Caffeinated Elise Fund and make the writing world a better place. Thus ends my erotica sponsored message for the day.

And no, Teavana didn't pay me anything to say any of this good stuff. I make my living with the wordage.

New Xcite Anthology Releases: Elevator Smut and Lesbians

I'm backity-back from my cruise and words can't express what a lovely time I had for those blissful seven days. I didn't so much as lift a finger to do any writing and I managed to read three books on my list of must reads. Beyond pleased. Now that I'm back from swirling around rapids filled lazy rivers in the Bahamas and watching Micheal Jackson in 3D as Captain EO at Epcot, reality is setting in again. No matter how many times I bash it with a broom, the damn thing won't stay dead!

So in honor of coming back down to the real world, here's a list of my newly released and coming soon anthology titles. All titles are avaliable at third party e-book sites such as Amazon, B&N, etc and some of them are in print.

I've got to save up for the next vacation. All ready planning it inside my head and it's going to be pretty sweet!

Sexy Spooks and a Little Hocus Pocus

Halloween is right around the corner and it's one of my favorite times of the year. Mainly because we celebrate spook night as a family holiday tradition and our family goes big or goes home. Some of the highlights of our yearly haunts include horror movie marathons, making adjustments to our fully functional backyard haunted house, and readying all the backyard lights to give our yard that creeptacular, what's coming next out of the dark, glow.

Imagine my surprise that I have yet to pick out a costume this year? Cripes, I've been working too hard. something Indiana Jones-ish meets steampunk explorer might do the trick.

Want to know more about my Halloween favorites and my new releases? Pop on over to my guest blog at Kharisma Rhayne's place of residence HERE. I'm going to go watch Hocus Pocus for the fiftieth time today and pull out all the stops on the end of these book edits. One more steamy scene to go and it's a wrap! I can taste the end and it's so, so sweet.