Jade C. Jamison's Blog, page 28

Sunday Q&A: Writing Inspiration

Goodreads has an author Q&A set up on their site, and every once in a while, a reader will ask me a question there. But Goodreads itself has a few questions hanging there if an author wants to answer one. I decided to answer one of them today. That question is How do you get inspired to write?

I don’t know that the Jade of today could give you a fair, honest answer like the Jade of several years ago. Today, writing is more than just a hobby or something fun. It’s a job. Well, that’s not entirely true either. If you were to ask a marathon runner how she gets inspired to run, I’m sure my answer would be similar to hers. It’s a passion, a drive, something I must do because it’s a part of me. But, for aspiring writers, that response might seem lame, so I am also going to answer in a way that I would tell some of my creative writing students.

First off, in my mind, there are two “types” of “inspiration.” The initial kind is an underlying desire—a want—to write. You don’t necessarily have any ideas in mind; you just know that when you sit down and create something out of nothing, you feel good. Something inside you grows and feels fulfilled during the process. That said, that kind of inspiration might leave you feeling disappointed if you have no ideas to follow it up with.

That leads to the second type of inspiration—where you actually feel driven to write something particular. Maybe you had a dream that sparked your imagination or something happened in real life that you felt compelled to write about. You might have even been browsing through prompt ideas online and thought, “OMG! I have to write THAT!”

But then you sit down at the keyboard and that damned little cursor blinks at you, emphasizing all the white space on the screen you’re staring at…and the more it blinks, the more it feels like it’s mocking you…and the more pressure you feel. Ugh! So how do you feel inspired when you’re confronted by THIS scenario?

The first thing I recommend is that you force yourself to write—every day for around the same time every day and the same amount Every. Single. Day. If you liken yourself to the marathon runner, you train. A marathon runner trains by stretching and running, if not every day, pretty damn close. A writer who is serious does the same—and I promise you that if you do it consistently, it will be easier–and you will get better.

That still doesn’t mean it’s a simple task, especially if your well of ideas is dry. Sometimes it helps to just write to a prompt. The internet has the collective ideas of our entire planet at your fingertips. You can search for “writing ideas” or “writing prompts” and I promise you that you’ll have an abundance of ideas to tap. Keep searching until something sparks your imagination if you can. If you’ve searched and searched and searched but find nothing interesting, then just take an idea and force yourself to write for ten minutes. Yes, ten minutes writing about something you don’t give a crap about—and you might even spend that writing time typing out how much you hate that damn idea. That’s fine. As long as you’re writing, you’re training. Do this daily for a month or two and you’ll find that inspiration is what you make it. All you’ll need is an idea and you’ll find yourself tapping away at the keyboard, one word at a time.

When I first started publishing in 2011, I fretted over what would happen when I ran out of ideas. I never have…and the ideas themselves are the inspiration.

Writing Your Book is Not Enough

Jade provides tips for writers every week.

You’ve written your novel. FANTASTIC! You might have started your writing journey thinking you’d never reach the end. I remember the first book I wrote and how proud I felt when it was done. It felt like I’d lived a lifetime in the pages. When I wrote it (this will give you an idea of my age, if you didn’t already know), I would write by hand in a spiral notebook at night and then, for an hour or two during the day, I’d type it out on an electric typewriter and put each completed sheet of paper in a folder, face down. It didn’t impress me or freak me out as I filled up more than one spiral notebook or as that ream of paper dwindled from one stack and began thickening the stack in the file folder. All I knew was that I had a story to tell, and I had to make my way to the ending somehow.

Well, a few hundred pages in, I had real life obligations to return to (my second year as a college student!), and I didn’t completely finish writing that book (I had a couple of chapters to go) until a few years later, and then I put it in a trunk and didn’t look at it again for a very, very long time. When I picked it up again, years later, my beloved novel…wasn’t so great anymore. When I’d first penned it, I’d thought it was so good and, well, the story itself wasn’t horrible, but it needed some work. Okay, a lot of work. I even began to think it needed to be scrapped.

Instead…I revised.

I like what Heather Sellers, author of The Practice of Creative Writing: A Guide for Students, has to say about revision. She says that it’s the act of re-seeing (“re-vision”) your work. You’re looking at it through new eyes—or you should be. Many others have said that the best way to revise your work is to look at it like a reader. I’m not telling you today how to revise but, rather, convincing you that it is a necessary evil. Had I published the book I told you about without revision, I never would have published again (or, rather, readers wouldn’t have returned for more). It wasn’t good enough. Don’t get me wrong—the grammar, punctuation, spelling, word usage, and all that jazz were fine. The story was decent. There were no continuity errors or things like that.

It just needed work. A lot of it. And, at the time I wrote it, I was too close to it to know it. Looking at it later, though, I could see everything that was wrong with it (things my friends were maybe too afraid to tell me). Some of the characters were two-dimensional and many of them were so similar, it was hard to tell the difference. My lack of experience in a lot of things also showed (although research and real-life experience can make up for that problem). The fact that I hadn’t done much writing was also apparent, because I hadn’t developed a strong “voice” yet. I also hadn’t learned that it’s okay to leave some things out if they’re not essential.

But revision is important for other reasons as well—I’ve found that revising helps me tighten up my story and clarify things that might have been a little fuzzy on the first go round. I also sometimes “know” my characters better by the end of the first draft and can even improve on that aspect of the story. Revising is simply making your story better for readers—and isn’t that what you want? Happy readers? Of course, it is…so don’t you dare write your story and declare that you’re done. Revising is a necessary part of the writing process. If you’re not revising, you’re not ready to publish.

Got a writing question for me? Post below and I’ll be happy to answer it either here or in a future Saturday blog post!

Your First Peek at Nicki Sosebee #10, LIES

Sadly, it’s been almost two years since I released the last Nicki book.  All that’s about to change, though.  I’m going to do my best to release the remainder of books this year.  Lies, #10 in the series, is coming out on February 29 (I chose that date because February 29 is a rarity!), and I’m writing book #11 now.  But let’s get to it.  First, the blurb:

From here on out, the Nicki Sosebee series is getting darker.

BUCKLE UP.

Like a dog with a bone, Nicki cannot help but continue to pursue realtor-turned-politician Gina McCafferty as the woman persists in making her play for Winchester’s open City Council seat. But Nicki is learning over and over again that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to her fair city. Meanwhile, her personal life is topsy-turvy, and a tattoo artist named Hunter makes Nicki’s life a living hell.

Alliances are tested. Lines are drawn. And events are set in motion that will play out in deadly ways…

Next, the excerpt.  Enjoy! 

“Something wrong?”

Nicki realized she was gritting her teeth—not making noise or anything, but definitely clenching them so that her jaw was tense. “Oh, sorry.” She swallowed. “Maybe today I should just get my nose pierced.”

What? She’d lost her mind.

No, this was good. Change was good. Especially now.

Hunter nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. You’ve got a good nose for it.” She snorted then and peals of laughter flowed from her mouth. He gave her a puzzled look.

“Sorry. I write part-time for the Tribune, and my boss has told me I have a nose for news.” She laughed again and he forced a smile. “Sorry. I really have had way too much to drink. Maybe I should leave.”

He touched her forearm. “No, you’re fine. You’re just a bit giddy, and that might be due to a little adrenaline flowing through your veins.”

“Adrenaline?”

“Yeah, as you prep yourself for a little pain.”

“Oh…how bad does that hurt?”

He flipped his hand, palm up, grinning and shrugging, and then he shook his head. “I’ve never had my nose pierced, so I don’t know. Piercing itself, though? Kind of depends on where you’re getting pierced and what your pain tolerance is. I had a shitload to drink before I got pierced, and it didn’t hurt at all.”

“You have a piercing? Where?” Nicki couldn’t see any holes anywhere—not on his ears or face. Maybe his nipples?

He grinned again, standing and extending his hand to her. “A guy’s gotta have a few secrets. Come on. Let’s go get you prepped.”

~ ~ ~

Available for pre-order on Amazon (but never fear–it will be available at other sites come release day!):

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1SbdkOP

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1OZ3Yii

Throwback Thursday – FEVERISH

Bullet placed me on the map and its follow up, Rock Bottom, took me forever to write. It was a hard book, but I felt like it was necessary. Main man Ethan needed redemption. The third book in the series, though—Feverish—I have likened to dessert. You have the main course and side dish, both weighty and filling, rewarding but angsty, and Feverish is a fun and light finisher.

The main reason for that is due to Clay, AKA Jet, Last Five Seconds’ guitarist and self-affirmed bad boy, one of Valerie’s former love interests. Clay was just pure, unadulterated fun to write, especially in his single days. Feverish is one of those books that just flew out of my brain and onto the page—I wrote it in less than a month!

The blurb:

…To be loved by the good guy

…To be f**ked by the bad boy

He’ll make you FEVERISH either way…

Clayton “Jet” Smith has enjoyed acting the part of rock star god / incorrigible bad boy since his breakup with rock goddess Valerie Quinn. He’s racking up quite a score playing the field, and he has no plans to settle down anytime soon. His biggest problem these days is meeting his obligations. He’s so busy having fun, he forgets the important things.

To help him out, he hires recent graduate Emily Brinkman to be his personal assistant, and he quickly finds a fire burning in his belly for her. There are two problems, however. The first is that Emily is engaged to be married, a fact that leaves Jet unfazed. The second problem isn’t so easy to surmount, though: Emily is disgusted and unimpressed by both sides of the man.

Will Clay find a way to persuade Emily to try him out, not just for one night, but for all time?

Excerpt:

Chapter Four from Feverish

Emily hadn’t quite known what to expect walking into her interview for the position of Personal Assistant to the rock musician. The house was big and beautiful, with a well-cared-for yard in an upscale neighborhood. The woman who answered the door introduced herself as Mary Daily. She was a short, slightly overweight woman with dark hair and eyes and a subtle smile, but she seemed quite friendly. Because Emily was applying to be a personal assistant to a rock musician, she had expected a rock musician to answer the door.

She realized immediately her prejudices, though. Who was to say this woman wasn’t the musician? Then again, if the person she would be working with could afford an assistant, he or she could also afford to have someone around to open the door.

When she walked in the kitchen following Mary, though, she knew immediately that she was looking at the rock star when he stood up. The guy in front of her had long brown hair—as long as hers—and unending tattoos on both arms that disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt. He had a winning smile underlined with sexy snake bite piercings and the sweetest little soul patch under his lip. Wow. Could she work for someone like this who would be quite distracting?

And then she realized she recognized him. Holy crap! This guy was Jet, the guitarist from Last Five Seconds. He smiled at her and for a second she couldn’t find her breath. Fortunately, he did the talking. “Hi, I’m Clay Smith,” he said. She hadn’t ever heard him speak before, because—even though she loved rock and metal music—she didn’t follow bands closely enough to catch interviews or award shows or anything like that. Bryce was totally not into her music, so she listened to it when he wasn’t around, and she’d taken down the posters of rock bands from off her bedroom walls a few months after they’d started dating and he’d expressed his distaste. So Jet’s (or Clay—she’d have to get used to that)…his voice took her by surprise. He was soft spoken and almost quiet, not what she had expected out of someone who wielded an axe like she knew he could. She liked his voice. It took her off guard, especially since Bryce could be loud and intimidating with his voice sometimes. This man’s voice was unassuming. It was nice. It was almost funny, because the lead singer of his band could scream with the best of them, and the guy had a raspy, deep voice that could be guttural and even scary sometimes.

She took a deep breath and composed herself, putting out her hand to shake his. Her grip had been something she’d worked on perfecting for years. She’d known, going into business for a living, that she’d have to have a strong handshake, one that was as firm as a man’s. By the same token, she wouldn’t want to crush other people’s hands with her own. Fortunately, she rarely got rattled anymore, so she no longer had to carry around a tissue in her hands to keep them from getting clammy and gross. The older she got, the more confident she felt, the less her palms would sweat. And she’d learned over the past couple of years that sometimes faking confidence was just as good as having it deep down. Her body (hands included) had learned to respond.

No, her problem now was making sure she wasn’t so confident she scared men off. Sometimes, she wouldn’t care, like if a guy was hitting on her at a bar. A potential boss, however, could be a problem, so she didn’t want to come on too strong. So she took his hand and shook back.

She managed to keep her smile steady, because inside she turned into a mess. This guy…wow. He was knocking her down. He was gorgeous up close, one of those men who made her feel wobbly in the knees, warm in her girlie parts, and dizzy. He was the kind of guy who could take her on a hell of a ride, the kind of guy she knew absolutely one-hundred-percent was completely wrong for her. He was the anti-Bryce, a man who made her feel hot, made her feel like a woman, and who could bring her to her knees. He was the kind of man she’d given up in favor of a steady, calm man like Bryce. So it didn’t matter that she could already feel some weird buzzing magnetism between them. That spelled it all out for her—he was trouble, trouble in the nth degree, and she had to stay away.

In fact, she should consider not taking the job.

Well, that was provided it would even be offered to her.

She felt her heart thudding against her breastbone as she drew a slow breath into her lungs. She could do this. She’d given how many presentations to large groups of her peers and kept her cool? Yeah. So this? This was a piece of cake.

She swallowed and found her voice. “Hello, Mr. Smith. I’m Emily Brinkman. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you and Ms. Daily for taking time out of your busy schedules to meet with me.”

This man—Jet—smiled at her. Part of it seemed kind and sweet, but there was something behind it, something knowing and fiery. He simply said, “The pleasure is all ours,” but it sounded like so much more to Emily’s ears.

* * *

They’d gone through Mary’s portion of (boring but necessary) questions. The woman in front of Clay seemed more than capable…but the other people had appeared capable as well. In person, this young lady showed that she really was intelligent and personable, and Clay might have been okay with that. After all, Clay was a nice guy.

Jet, on the other hand…Jet was a force to be reckoned with. Most people who didn’t know the guitarist of Last Five Seconds assumed that Jet was simply a stage name, a cool description for the guy whose fingers seemed to fly around his fretboard like it was child’s play. It wasn’t, though. Clay didn’t have two personalities, but he did have two distinct sides. Growing up, he’d always been the nice guy, the guy his mother had groomed him to be—kind to women, children, and puppies, polite to teachers, gentlemanly, and just all-around nice. Clay would even wear a suit if need be. Jet, though…Jet was the darker side of Clay. Jet was a good guy too, but he was the kind of guy girls did not want to take home to meet Daddy. He was the nasty, down-and-dirty guy who played his guitar like today was the end of the world, and he fucked like the world was ending too. He was the guy who made women’s panties wet and pissed other guys off. He was all alpha.

And even though Clay knew his Jet persona had started out as simply a mask, Jet had grown into more. He had first come about to help Clay over his stage fright. The first time he’d performed for an audience, he was a teen. Everyone in the band had taken a large swig of Jack and that helped, but he’d taken an extra one until he felt himself relax. It was that very first time a girl—one of his classmates—had commented on his shredding abilities, had said something about how fast his fingers moved, and also mentioned the dye job all the guys had done on their hair (jet black). Anyway, she had dubbed him Jet, and it hadn’t taken Clay long to start associating that name with untold badassery. He wore that name like chainmail, and performing hadn’t been a problem since. Jet wasn’t afraid of anything. He didn’t care if he offended anyone (or, on the other hand, impressed them) for any reason. He played for himself. And he oozed confidence and sexuality. Jet embodied the baser side of Clay, the part of him he’d bottled up all his life, and naming that part of himself simply allowed the man to let that side come out and play.

And play he had. The problem was that Jet had mostly taken over. He was Jet for longer and longer periods of time, and he started to wonder what had happened to the nicer, more caring, deeper part of himself. He was worried that he was going to lose that man. Jet really didn’t care, but Clay did. Clay wasn’t willing to go down without a fight.

Clay had won for the first part of the interview with Ms. Emily Brinkman. He’d been polite and helped ask Mary’s intelligent, important questions, but Jet needed to know more. He could not, would not let anyone work for him who had no respect for what he did. And, yeah, he had expected these folks to do a little digging. When Mary had called them all for interviews, she gave them basic information. She said she wanted to know what they did with it. Well, Clay knew they’d use it to find out more about him and his band, and he figured that was the smart thing to do. But that did not by a long shot mean they were metal fans. And if they weren’t metal fans (or at least knowledgeable about harder rock), then he had no use for them. He didn’t want to spend days explaining things his personal assistant should already know. And how could that person passionately represent him if he or she only knew him from a fact sheet? It was do-or-die as far as Clay (or Jet) was concerned, and he didn’t give a shit if they were good on paper or better educated than all the other applicants. If they couldn’t prove to him they knew his business for real, then he had no use for them. When he tried to explain it to Mary, he’d said, “Would you buy a Ford from a guy who drove a Chevy? Fuck no. Would you trust a guy who sold Pepsi but drank Coke? Of course not. So why the hell would we hire someone who doesn’t get it?” At least that little speech had seemed to sink in with her a little bit.

He’d discovered that morning before they’d started, though, that Mary hadn’t told them who Clay was or what band he played for when she’d arranged the interviews. She’d simply told them general facts. She had a statement prepared when starting the interview that gave them more information. Even better.

So, when Mary’s questions were done, Clay smiled at Emily for a moment. The woman kept her cool, and Clay became convinced that she would win against him in a stare down contest. He filled his lungs with air, realizing he really liked her intensity. He found his first question. “First rock album you ever bought.”

No hesitation. “Godsmack, Faceless.”

Oh, that was good. “First concert.”

She smiled. She was up for the challenge. “Bullet for My Valentine.”

“A band you always buy a new release from, whether you’ve heard it or not.”

“Used to be Three Days Grace. Now…I don’t know. Um, maybe Art of Dying.”

He smiled back and nodded his head. He could feel an energy between them. “Favorite band.”

She tilted her head and broke eye contact, glancing up at the ceiling. That question was making her think. He wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t say his band. In fact, he’d be more upset if she did say Last Five Seconds, because it would seem fake, as though she’d just said it just for the interview. He wanted real. “Seether.”

Fuck yeah. Inside, Clay was fist pumping. This woman was on fire, and he was ready to offer her the job. He knew Mary would punch him in the arm if he did. As it was, she was tolerating his barrage of questions. “Good answer.” Now for the most telling response of all, one he needed to know. “Favorite guitarist.”

She smiled again. One more time, without pause. She knew exactly what she wanted to say. “Jimi Hendrix.”

“Excellent choice.” He took a deep breath, almost surprised he wasn’t getting hard. “I’d like to think I’m in your top fifty.”

Her smile turned into a grin that almost looked shy. That was odd and somehow a turn on from this confident woman. “Oh, you definitely are.”

Both Clay and Jet were really digging her.

* * *

The rapid fire part of the interview where guitar god Jet pummeled her with questions about her favorites in rock music was actually pretty cool, and it made her almost feel connected to him right off the bat. That he respected and liked her answers made her feel a sort of affection for him. He wasn’t some musician, all high and mighty and full of himself. He was instead a down-to-earth guy with a real passion for music, and by the time he wound down those questions, she realized he wanted to hire someone who felt the same way. She was pretty sure, based on the smile on his face, that she had passed the test.

The sweet woman named Mary had just sat quietly while Emily and Jet had volleyed words back and forth across the table. Afterward, though, Mary had gotten down to the nitty-gritty. She said, “I think you’ve definitely got the education and skills, and I know Clay is impressed with your music knowledge.”

Clay said, “Love. Not knowledge. Love.”

Mary looked like she was on the verge of rolling her eyes. “Love. But I want to see how you would handle some of the day-to-day tasks we’d have you doing.”

Emily raised her eyebrows and then nodded her head. “Okay. Sounds fair.”

Mary stood. “To do that, we have to go to his office.”

Clay looked over at Mary, and Emily sensed that the man hadn’t expected his helper to do that. He didn’t say anything, though. He stood around the same time Emily did, and he motioned for her to follow Mary, and he would be behind them both. She had to keep her cool, knowing his eyes were on her back.

Soon they were near the end of the long hall on the east side of the house, and Mary opened a door. The room wasn’t too terribly big, but it had a few book shelves and a huge desk by the window. There was a laptop on top and a printer to the side, on top of a two-drawer filing cabinet, but what caught her attention was the daunting pile of what she guessed was mail in the center of the desk, just in front of the computer on the side where the chair was.

Unopened mail.

Dear heavens. Did he get this much fan mail in a day? A week? A month? She was surprised people still resorted to paper mail nowadays when it was easy enough to write on your fave rock star’s Facebook page or to send him a tweet. She would have thought cyberspace would make snail mail contact of one’s favorite rock star crush obsolete.

Well, that was okay. She considered herself quite organized, and sorting through that kind of mail daily or weekly wouldn’t be bad. She hoped her initial shock hadn’t shown on her face. She knew if they looked at her now, she would appear calm and composed. No big deal, she wanted her face to say.

Mary said, “Think of this as just another interview question. I’d like to see you go through this mail and organize it. There is no time limit, and if you decide it’s too much, that’s fine, but I’d just like to see how you go through it.”

Emily took a deep breath. Okay. That made sense. She glanced over at Jet and he looked almost horrified. Emily bit her bottom lip to stifle a grin. What the hell did girls write him that he seemed freaked out having her glance through the pile? Well, he’d have to get used to it if they hired her. She planned to be cool and composed, and she would try not to read anything.

She walked over to the other side of the desk and sat in the swivel chair. She noticed a piece junk mail on top. “Do you have a wastebasket?” Mary nodded and grabbed one from beside one of the bookshelves and started to bring it to the desk. Emily had another thought, though. This too was a test. Jet was a famous guy and probably everything with his personal info that left his house should be unrecognizable. “On second thought—do you have a shredder?”

Jet tilted his head to consider her and Mary said, “There’s one in the garage.”

Emily nodded. First stack: Crap that needed to be shredded. She might not need the trashcan after all. To the left side, she started that pile with the piece of mail that was in her hand—a thick envelope with a credit card offer inside. She somehow doubted Jet was shopping for a credit card. He probably had all the credit he needed, and if he wanted more, she imagined he’d go to his bank and hobnob with the president of the joint.

The next envelope she picked up was a bill, from the looks of it—a sewer bill. So she started another stack next to the junk mail, one for bills. So much for being all love notes. Mary said, “You mind if we pull up a chair? Will that make you nervous?”

Actually, a little, but no way was she going to indicate that. “No, not at all.”

Jet asked, “You want a drink?”

Another test? She was going to be professional. “No, thank you.” She couldn’t imagine she’d be doing this long enough to grow thirsty. Now that she knew she wasn’t going to be just reading through teenage girls’ letters with offers of losing their virginity to the man across from her, she was feeling a little better about going through the pile. If it was just junk mail and bills and things of that nature, she could handle it. She started pulling out one piece of mail at a time and finding a place for it. There were a couple of questionable things that were not junk mail or bills, but she didn’t want to open them up to find out. She wasn’t an employee yet and hadn’t signed that nondisclosure agreement the ad had mentioned yet, so she wouldn’t feel comfortable encountering any secrets. As his real PA, she would have to get used to any weird stuff she came across, but as an applicant, she really didn’t want to know. Bad enough she was learning a few things just picking through the mail. For example, how and when did this guy ever pay his bills? She’d already picked up four gas bills—or five. She couldn’t remember. What a mess.

But she suspected they were having her do this task for a couple of reasons—one was to see how quickly she could sort the pile into tasks that could be accomplished. The second was to see what kind of tasks she decided upon using her own good judgment. Even though they had said the opposite, she suspected they didn’t want her to take hours to do it. Fortunately, seeing messes like that one drove Emily crazy. It was easy for her to want to organize it.

“I’m gonna get something to drink. Sure you don’t want anything? Glass of iced tea? Monster Energy drink?”

She smirked at him. “I think I’ve got this.”

“C’mon, Mary. Let’s give her a little time to herself.”

Emily was still looking up, and she saw a concerned look cross Mary’s face. Did the woman not trust her? Did she think Emily would walk off with something? Well, she could understand that. These two didn’t really know her. They didn’t know she was honest. She’d have to earn their trust. She said, “That’s okay. I really don’t mind if one of you has to be here.”

“That’s all right,” Mary said, standing up from the chair she’d been sitting in. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Once they were in the hall, Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Her job just got easier. She didn’t have to pretend to peruse anymore. Now she could fly through that damned stack. She knew she could have it done now before they got back, especially considering she was halfway through. And if they were worried about her taking anything, she could take her jacket off and let them look. They’d be able to see she had nothing. If they were super paranoid, they could—she supposed—request that she show them her phone to ensure she hadn’t snapped any photographs.

She shook her head. She was damned either way. This interview was turning out to be a pain in the ass…no matter how much she was starting to like the guy who could become her potential boss.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1mp0KeK

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1m162dw

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1BPtWPo

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1vOBuSz

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1xnvX4I

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1PeDIn1

 

Train Wreck Celebutants

Last Saturday, I had to get on Facebook fairly early in my morning routine and what I saw simply set me off. You know how Facebook has those little “trending” links on the side? The first item trending was a celebrity spotted wearing her engagement ring. Umm…last I knew, said celebrity was married with children. The second trending item was a celebrity who was denying allegations about his “sex life” with a model—and said celebrity has a celebutante wife and child. After glancing at those two “items,” I ranted, saying something about hating celebrities and then stood up to pour a cup of coffee (perhaps that was why my reaction was so angry—I was waiting for my first cup of coffee to brew!), and my husband asked why. It really didn’t take me long to answer. In fact, my complete angry answer was out of my mouth before I took my first sip of java.

Why do we worship celebrities—especially celebrities with barely a shred of moral fiber—who contribute little to our society? Okay, so maybe they wrote or sang one catchy tune or starred in your favorite movie or reality TV show. Is that a reason to worship them? No. Don’t get me wrong. There are celebrities I admire, and there are plenty of them who actually do good things with their money and time (Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie come to mind) and who don’t seem to be seeking photo ops at every turn. We’re falling all over ourselves to find out what these people are doing, and I’m sorry if I offend, but—in terms of society—these people are basically worthless. Yes, I think art is quite important, but why do we care about what they do in their personal lives? Why do we give them our attention?

Let me put this in perspective. I want to know why, in trending Facebook “news,” I didn’t see something about some new scientific breakthrough or discovery or a story about someone in some remote village in Africa who saved five children from starvation. Can you see the difference? That’s the kind of stuff I want to read about and see—positive or inspiring contributions to humanity, things that make all our lives better. What does it say about our society that the top trending topic is about a musician’s alleged extramarital sex life?

I think I might have answered my own question. I’m starting to think that many folks celebrity watch because following celebrities’ train wreck lives might make unfamous people feel better about their own lives—that there’s some piece-of-shit trashy celebrity whose parents’ money helped them achieve their own grab at fame, and said celebrity has everything in the world handed to them…and yet still cannot keep their shit together. Maybe somehow that makes folks feel better about themselves.

I suppose it’s cheap therapy.

But seeing all that shit makes me believe I need therapy. Where do you stand on the subject? If you celebrity watch, tell me why.  I won’t judge!   This inquiring mind wants to know!

Book Club Questions for Nicki Sosebee: DEAD

Boy, I hope writing all these book club questions isn’t annoying the hell out of someone, but the good news is that I will eventually run out of books!

I know that there are dozens—maybe even hundreds—of generic book club questions available online. That’s good, especially if someone wants to discuss the book but hasn’t read it yet and so she doesn’t know a damn thing about it…but, in my experience, specific questions about that book are so much more helpful. And that’s the main reason why I’m writing questions for each one of my books.

As a quick aside, speaking of book clubs, a friend suggested to me on Facebook over the weekend that I give ecopies of my books to book clubs (along with swag). Well, I don’t personally know any book clubs, or I’d make that offer. So I’m putting out the offer right now to any book club stumbling upon this post: if your book club wants to read my book, give me a holler and I’ll donate something to the cause!

But enough chatter. Let’s get to today’s book! It’s Dead, Nicki Sosebee #2. First, the blurb:

Nicki’s love life might suck, but her sex life is great. The only way both could be spectacular would be if her best friend Sean would look at her as more than just a friend. Nicki knows she’s stuck in the friend zone, so she focuses her energies on her job. She’s becoming a better reporter every day, so when her editor asks her to interview a local politician, Nicki is thrilled. But when the politician’s secretary ends up dead, it’s anybody’s guess as to who did it. Nicki has a few ideas, though, and finds herself in deep trouble as she pokes her nose where she thinks it belongs.

Now for the questions!

How does Nicki grow in this book (from book one, Got the Life)? How do her relationships change? Does she have any revelations about herself?

How does Neal, her Winchester Tribune boss, help her become better at her job?

Readers get to “meet” Nicki’s other bestie Brandy in this book. How does that friendship change the dynamic in the series?

Out of all the men Nicki has “dated” over the past eight years, why do you think Jesse has “flown under her radar,” not only piquing her curiosity but making her quite interested? What do you think is it about him that has attracted her attention?

Based on what you’ve read so far, what do you think will happen with Nicki’s relationship with Sean next?

With what you know about Sean and Jesse right now, which man do you think is the better “fit” for Nicki? Why?

Are there any passages or quotes that stand out to you?

If you could ask Jade one question about this book, what would it be?

If you use these questions for a book club reading, I’d love to know how it goes. If you come up with other questions, I’d love to hear them! Happy reading!

LOCKED AND LOADED is LIVE!!!

Hello, my friends!  We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to deliver this important announcement.  Locked and Loaded, the final book in the Bullet series, is live today!  It’s a little dark but a little sweet, and I can’t wait to hear what you think.  Here are all the details, plus a teaser!

Blurb:

Is it too much to believe that someone keeps returning to your life because it’s meant to be?

Zane Carson is an idealistic young man with one big skeleton in his closet when he first meets Jennifer Manders in college. They date only to break up soon after. The sexual attraction is like an electromagnet but they fight like alley cats. The relationship just isn’t worth it.

Zane’s band Fully Automatic breaks big about the same time Jennifer finishes college. One summer afternoon, they meet for coffee and sparks fly once more. It’s off again, on again, but they just can’t make it work and break it off for good, deciding it’s not worth the effort.

But Zane is drawn to her and, during a break in the music action, he tracks her down again, willing to change himself for her and needing to give her one last try. The attraction is as strong as ever, but now Jennifer is hiding something from Zane—something big, something that threatens to extinguish the spark for good. When Zane discovers her secret, will he be able to forgive her or will that be the end?

Excerpt (from Chapter Four of Locked and Loaded):

Zane compromised. When he’d hung up with Valerie the night before, he’d promised to give it two days before calling. After waiting a day, though, he said, Fuck it. She’d had a chance to alert her friend just like she’d asked, and he wasn’t willing to give her any more time. He’d promised to wait…but now that he had Jennifer’s phone number (and no response to the message he’d left her on Facebook), asking him to wait was like asking a little kid with a fresh piece of frosted birthday cake sitting right in front of him to not run his finger along the edge so he could lick the icing off his finger.

Impossible.

So he called Jennifer that night, already prepared to leave a message—something simple, as casual as possible, but also letting her know that she’d been heavy in his thoughts. He might not have the ability like his wordsmith friends to make a woman swoon with poetry, but he did get that she needed to know she was special, no matter how plain the words. To tell her she’d not just been dancing in his head but consuming his every waking thought was to let her know she wasn’t just a bimbo or a quick lay or even a fond memory. She was present in his mind.

Except she answered the call.

That too might have caused him to falter, but this was Jennifer he was calling. Whether she wanted to be or not, she was a huge part of his life, had been with him as he’d been becoming the man he’d be (for better or worse—mostly worse), had witnessed his life just prior to big things happening.

She was an important part of his life.

When she answered with an innocent and quiet “Hello?” Zane almost felt his heart fill his chest. God, he’d missed her—and he hadn’t realized how much until that moment. He always forgot how empty he felt until she filled him up again.

“Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Zane. How you been?”

“Oh, Zane. Hi. Um…great. It’s, uh, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has. So I wondered if you wanted to get together for coffee…or dinner. Just to catch up, you know.” And, if she remembered all the times they’d gotten together before, she knew as much as he did that getting together also likely meant a wild and crazy fuck session at the end of the first reunion date, reaffirming that, yeah, there was no one else who made him feel the way she did. He hoped it felt the same way for her.

It had to, right?

“I don’t know…”

That felt like a red light. She’d never said that before. Did that mean she was moving on, moving past him? Was she no longer willing to try?

It felt like his heart was literally dropping from his chest into his abdominal cavity, as painful as one would expect. But he wasn’t going to act like a weepy little baby. If she had given up on him for good, he’d find a way to move on…or give up entirely. He wasn’t sure yet, but there was no way he was going to force himself on this woman.

Zane swallowed and took a quick breath, knowing he had to keep his voice light. “What’s not to know? Two old friends, catching up and talking about old times.”

“I’m kinda busy nowadays.”

Oh. He was no idiot. “Gotcha. Boyfriend? Uh, or husband?” God, please, no.

Jennifer let out a nervous laugh. “No. I guess you could say I’m married to my work.”

“That exciting?”

“Not really…but bills, you know? They kind of keep me in the relationship.”

Zane hated the idea that Jennifer might not love her work but be in it for the money. In spite of all the pitfalls he’d experienced over the years, he loved his job. Yeah, there had been major…problems, for lack of a better word, but he was still doing something he loved. He’d gone to college for a year back when he first met Jennifer, looking for something “realistic,” something his old man had nagged him about, and Zane had jumped at the chance to get away from the bullshit of his home life. His dad had hardly ever been around but, when he was, he used Zane’s head like a fucking basketball. He would have done anything to get away, and going to college with his friend Ethan had seemed like the best, most obvious choice. His mom had told him over and over that he should be a music teacher, but Zane hadn’t felt talented enough. He could play the trumpet and find his way around a drum kit, but he loved the bass. It was an underrated instrument, one that fans had often dismissed as unimportant, but Zane knew better. Some of the smartest guys he’d ever met had been bassists.

In spite of trying out school for a year, he’d lucked out and been part of a great group of friends, led by a hell of a guy with a drive more powerful than a semi, Brad Payne, and with that guy at the helm, there was no way they couldn’t have made it. Brad had known all along that their band would succeed, and so he’d had no backup plan. He’d followed his vision and led Fully Automatic to the top. Thanks to Brad, Zane would never have to work a “regular” job his entire life. So it killed him to think that Jennifer might be doing something because she had to…she was having to work a less-than-desirable job to pay the student loans for the education she’d pursued to get that job in the first place. It seemed like a hell of a vicious cycle.

But weeping over her state wouldn’t win him any points. Humor, though…humor might—or even just a little levity. “You’re telling me you work so many hours you can’t go for a cup of coffee with an old friend?”

She laughed. “Well, when you put it that way…when were you thinking?”

Inside, Zane felt a dark cloud lift. He could hardly wait to see her. She was the light in his life, and he’d been in the shadows for far too long. “How about dinner instead?”

* * *

Jennifer stood looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was trying to decide if the pink lipstick worked, but she was distracted by the fact that she was actually going to be meeting Zane for dinner. Again. They’d never worked, never lasted…not once. Why she thought things would be different now was beyond her.

Kara peeked in the open door, Zoe in her arms, bouncing and reaching for her mama. Yes, Zoe was just the first of many reasons why Jennifer shouldn’t—absolutely should not—go on this date with her former on-again, off-again boyfriend. Jennifer could already predict the path their date and ensuing next few dates would go, based on their tumultuous history. First, there would be the honeymoon phase, the time when they’d forgotten how much they loved being around each other, how damned attracted they were to each other. They would likely end up in bed that night, even—she knew how they were, and they’d be lucky to keep their paws off each other for any length of time. And even if they managed to keep their hands off for this date, they’d set a second, knowing in the back of their minds that it wouldn’t be long.

The honeymoon phase could last anywhere from two weeks to three or four months. The sex would be setting-off-fireworks amazing. She knew she herself would be smiling and happy, infused with just-got-laid hormones. The good feelings would surge through her veins, making everyday chores and trials seem light and unimportant. She’d look forward to seeing Zane again, and they would strip down to nothing and be pressing skin into skin, flesh into flesh in seconds.

Then, once the newness wore off, the irritations would begin and they’d start bickering. It would seem lighthearted and maybe even fun at first, but it wouldn’t be long before it turned nasty and vicious, where they truly felt angry and upset with each other, and, just before they completely despised each other, they would decide it wasn’t worth the effort.

And Zane would likely break her heart. Again.

Just thinking about it made Jennifer consider calling Zane and telling him she was sick or otherwise indisposed. Thinking about their relationship objectively and knowing where it would go almost made her not want to bother.

But she had to see him. It had been too long.

So much had changed since they’d last seen each other, though. First off, there was sweet little Zoe. Actually, that little baby girl was the only change, but the child’s presence had been life changing for Jennifer. Now, if she and Zane didn’t stay together (which wasn’t likely, based on their track record), she’d be fine. She wouldn’t feel devastated and hopeless for weeks (or even months) on end like had happened so many times in the past. She wouldn’t take forever recovering, trying to find a way to go on when the one guy she couldn’t figure out how to let go broke her heart once again.

She just had one huge decision to make…

~ ~ ~

Links:

I also need to let you know that the two Bullet box sets are on sale for the next two days!

Locked and Loaded:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1lWuUIF

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1QleUNe

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Si3cUr

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1N76HVM

iTunes: http://apple.co/1SOirnq

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2373tgQ

Bullet Series: Box Set 1

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1MJtpEv

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/21aLoxf

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1SbJW7G

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1MuF8J5

Bullet Series: Box Set 2

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JbL0ZR

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1n5TtmU

B&N: http://bit.ly/1SNLMzd

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1NFjLSq

Sunday Q&A: My Early Writing Days

What can you tell readers about your early writing days?

Let me first say that I have always been a writer—even before middle school. Writing has always been something important to me, published or not. But, as an adult, I set my eye toward publication.  When my children were young, I would go through periods of trying to become traditionally published.  I’d had success (under another name) with poetry, short stories, academic writing, and journalism, but being published as a novelist continued to elude me.  I would throw the feelers out there (query letters with synopses) every once in a while when I would finish writing and revising a book to my satisfaction.  I got a lot of nice rejections.  Then life would take over and the need to be published would go on the back burner.  I never stopped writing, though, because it’s a compulsion. I would feel the burning desire to write and I’d get something done and start sending out queries again…and receiving rejections along with them.  Some were form rejections, but many were personal, and one I remember in particular said I had a strong writing voice and a great story, but it wasn’t quite what they were looking for.  I felt like, in the writing world, I was always the bridesmaid and never the bride.  But I couldn’t and didn’t stop writing.  I just stopped writing query letters. Then, in late 2012, a very close friend of mine (Stacy Gail, an author with Samhain and Carina Press who now also has a few indie publications under her belt) landed a publishing contract.  If you think I write a lot, you should meet Stacy.  She puts me to shame.  She and I were chatting as we often do, and I felt the burning desire to submit to a publisher again.  I was working on my most current compulsion (Tangled Web) and had no intention of doing anything with it; I just had to get it out of my head and onto paper.  Talking to Stacy, though, I got the itch again.  Sure, I had to write; it was in my blood, after all, but writers also want to be read.  I could have gone my whole life with all those manuscripts in my trunk, but I wanted more.  By early spring, I had my manuscript with beta readers and I was drafting another query letter (ugh! I seriously hate those damned things!).  Then Stacy mentioned a successful woman by the name of Amanda Hocking (perhaps you’ve heard of her?), and the rest is history.  After doing some research, I published Tangled Web on Amazon for the Kindle in April of 2011…and the rest, as they say, is history.

If you have any questions for me, just ask!  I’ll answer them in a future Sunday Q&A!

Sticking with a Writing Schedule

If you can’t find time to write, you’re not going to get anything written. Makes sense, doesn’t it? If you have a desire to write but can’t keep the ball rolling, what are some ways you can do that? Carrie asked me this question a couple of weeks ago: “How do you stick to a writing schedule? I find it hard to make time to write on top of working full time.”

Sticking to a writing schedule is just as easy (or as difficult) as sticking to a schedule for anything. Really, sometimes it comes down to priorities. My problem, I think, is that writing is almost a compulsion for me. It is something I want to do all the time…so, when I have free time, I do it. Most readers are shocked when they find out I work not one but two jobs (between sixty and seventy hours per week) and have a family yet still manage to publish several books a year. I’m not kidding when I say it’s a compulsion, and I don’t expect others to be that insane about it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t write and stick to a schedule!

Here are some tips you can try that might get you writing solidly:

Write every single day. Yes, some days will be busier than others, but make time to write. Look at your schedule for the day. Maybe you get up in the morning and get ready for work, go to work, and then you have something family related that entire night. There’s no time! Or maybe there is. Maybe you get up half an hour early so you have time before getting ready for work. Make writing your number one priority and I promise you’ll find time, even if it’s only five minutes.
Make writing a habit. Maybe instead of “carving out time” or “making it a priority,” you instead decide to write every day at the same time—each and every day. Experts say that it takes twenty-one days to create a lifelong habit, so see if you can write for one month at the same time every day. Perhaps you choose to write for an hour in the morning before everyone else in the house gets up, or maybe it’s an hour before bed. Maybe you decide that your lunch break is the best time—or maybe half an hour after work or two hours after the dishes are done at night? The time of day doesn’t matter. What matters is that you set yourself a time and stick to it and if, for some reason, you weren’t able to stick to it one day, get back on track the following one. Keep at it until it’s second nature.
Make it exciting! Do you remember one of the first times you were in love? Or do you remember when you discovered a hobby or interest that you were passionate about, where you spent hours and hours doing something and it seemed like mere seconds had passed? Find a way to make your writing that way–where it consumes you. Come up with a plot or characters so damned interesting that you can’t wait to get back with them or just can’t go another second without finding out where the plot is going. And I can promise you that if you’re that drawn to your own writing, your readers will be too!
Join a writing group. Sometimes having to be accountable (and saving face) will kick things in gear. Whether it’s online or in person, having a writing group where everyone shares a little something and gives feedback can make you feel the pressure to set a pace and stick with it.
Set goals. Maybe instead of setting aside specific time, if you’re a goal-oriented person, set solid targets to aim for. You might decide one of these: “I’m going to write 1000 words a day”; “I’m going to write a chapter a day”; “I will write 5000 words a week, no matter what!”; or “I’ll give myself two weeks to plot my story.” Write your goals down and, if they are big goals, break them down into small chunks (e.g., if your goal is to write a novel this year, figure out how many chapters you’ll have to write each month, then how many weeks it will take you to write a chapter, etc.). Post them somewhere where you’ll see them—on the fridge, in a reminder app, on a sticky note by the speedometer in your car or on your computer monitor. Make it difficult to forget. And if you find yourself procrastinating or even just having a hard time hitting some of your targets, ask yourself why. Is it a psychological thing or did you just run out of time? Adjust your goals as necessary so that you can achieve them! Stretch yourself on occasion too, though.

Not all these tips will work for everyone, but I’m hoping that one or two (or more) will ring true with you and help you kick start your writing habit. Happy writing!

You might also want to read about these topics:

Writing Believable Dialogue
#MondayMotivation for Authors
Getting over Writer’s Block

Got a question for me? Post below and I’ll be happy to answer it either here or in a future Saturday blog post!

Flash Forward Friday-LOCKED AND LOADED Teaser #4

I can’t believe January is almost over.  That just blows my mind.  This month has flown by quickly!  There is one good thing about that, I guess–Locked and Loaded comes out Monday, February 1.  The two limited publication Bullet Box Sets that contain the remainder of the series will be discounted over the weekend and on release day, so if you haven’t picked them all up yet, now’s your chance to do it with significant savings.  I’ll post those links below.

For those of you who have already read all the books, you’re likely wanting me to get on with the show, so here’s today’s Locked and Loaded teaser!

“What’s going on with you?”

Jennifer blinked, acting like she was going to start talking—start saying something real—but then she backed out at the last second. “I’m just tired.”

Letting the breath out of his lungs, Zane considered for a moment whether he should push it a little, playfully or not, or just let her go.

The problem was he didn’t want to let her go—not now or ever. It was time to stop running from her. In those few moments, he realized that he was willing to endure all the fighting, all the arguing, every single fucking disagreement if he could just have her in his life for good. He was even willing to change himself to get there. He wasn’t going to just let her go anymore.

But he didn’t trust himself to say it. Instead, he took another step toward her. She’d just pointed her key fob at the door and unlocked it, but she paused and looked up at him then. She was almost like a deer in headlights but not quite as skittish. He reached out and touched her cheek, moving his hand until he cupped it, and the way she blinked—almost in slow motion—told him more than her words had.

She felt it, too.

It was still there and it wasn’t just a pile of dying embers—it was a raging inferno beneath the surface. At least that was what he suspected, but he’d only know based on the combustion that would happen when they kissed.

He moved his face toward hers, gauging her response. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted just a sliver, but that was enough for Zane to realize she wanted him—wanted him to kiss her, if nothing else.

He didn’t need a flashing green light.

He touched his lips to her warm ones, softly at first, gauging if the light was indeed green or maybe just yellow…

Locked and Loaded

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1lWuUIF

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1QleUNe

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Si3cUr

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1N76HVM

iTunes: http://apple.co/1SOirnq

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2373tgQ

The Bullet Series Box Set:  Books 1-3

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1MJtpEv

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/21aLoxf

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1SbJW7G

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1MuF8J5

The Bullet Series Box Set:  Books 4-5

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JbL0ZR

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1n5TtmU

B&N: http://bit.ly/1SNLMzd

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1NFjLSq