Shyla Colt's Blog, page 13

Supernatural Seduction Month! Angels, Demons, and Fallen O’ My

Today is the very first day of an exciting theme month, Supernatural Seduction! I’ve loved all things that go bump in the night for as long as I could remember. Huddling on the couch, half covering my eyes as I watched Freddy K. dispatch of those pesky teens is a practically a rite of passage . When I hit my pre- teens and I realized the monster might be misunderstood and paranormal romance began to trickle into the stores my life was forever altered. We’ve come a long way from Christopher Pike, and R.L. Stine, but those tales will forever live in my heart. It showed me what I wanted to grow up and do. Funnily enough, I always wanted to be a teen writer, but when I sat down to write, it wasn’t what came out…. At all. *Blushes a bit.

My sex didn’t happen behind closed doors, and I liked my characters, naughty, passionate, and occasionally with the mouths of a Marine… I blame my husband for that one. *laughs. This month we’ll talk about many different things, have some fun visitors, and maybe even a few giveaways. Today I’m focusing on Angels, fallen , and not so much. One of the featured beings in my brand new Purgatory Series. My first book, Keys to Heaven released over the weekend. The first words that come to mind… Demons, and Angels, and Fallen O’ my. Growing up in the Catholic church I’ve logged some serious time in bible studies, and religious class. It was fun getting to use that amassed knowledge for this series, and learning some new things. Catholicism and other religious stories, prophecies, really fascinate me, so this was a win, win.

Thinking of angel as fallible creatures, not to different from ourselves blows my minds, and sends my muse into a frenzy. How would they act? What do they think of us? I graze the surface on my take in this story . Purgatory is a bar where the only rule is harm none. All our welcome, and you’ll see everything from vampires, to angels, and the more elusive Fae.

Blurb

Born to a fallen angel and a demon, Heavenleigh Spirit has never truly fit in. Shunned, tested, and ridiculed, she’s hardened her heart, building a wall around her none are allowed to scale. Carving a life for herself running the neutral bar, Purgatory, she caters to all things winged , clawed, and other. Provided they play nice. When she breaks her middle of the road stance to rescue a newly fallen angel she gets more than she bargained for.

The amnesic angel awakes in the bed of the only woman he’s ever lusted after with nothing more than the knowledge he was sent to protect her. Struggling to remember who he is, and why she’s in danger, he fully embraces the passion between them that blazes hotter than hell fire. When the truth about his mission comes out he must fight to convince herthe love they share is real, and he’s not going anywhere.

In an ironic twist of fate the woman cast aside for a birthright she never asked for holds the keys to the worlds ruin or salvation.

Here’s a sneak peek

For the first time he saw past her carefree façade. Her eyes darkened and she shook her head. “I don’t see long term in the cards for someone like me.”

“Like you?” He shook his head. What does that mean?

“Let’s just say I’m the kind of different most people can’t handle.” She rinsed of her plate, back ramrod straight as she avoided looking at him.

“What if I want to try?” The words stunned them both. Where did that come from?

“You can’t even remember your name Angel Man.” Sorrow tinged her voice, and she shook her head.

“And yet I remember you.” Acting on instinct he pressed her into the sink, placing both arms on either side of her body. He bent down buried his nose into her silky, soft, hair and inhaled. She smelled like floral musk. “I know I’ve spent days wondering how you’d smell, and if you hair would be as soft as feather down.” He nudged her hair away with his nose and nuzzled her neck. “How you’d taste.” Her breath caught. He ground his erection into her firm ass. “I’ve whiled away hours dreaming of being inside you, so much that now when I don’t even know anything about myself you remain the vibrant, sexy, center my world orbits around.”

“Jesus Angel man, you went from clueless to seducer in zero to sixty.”

“I get the feeling I’ve never done this before ,so I’m glad I’m doing it right.” His voice shook. Being here with her like this was his birthday and Christmas rolled into one. She leaned back, wound her arms around his neck and purred.

“How about I break you in nice and proper and we figure the rest out later.

Her voice was liquid sex. He couldn’t ignore it had he wanted to.

“I was trying so hard to be a good girl and let you go unscathed, but then you lay this secret admirer bit on me.” Her lips puckered into a pout.

“Every word is true.”

She turned her head to peer at him over her shoulder. Her eyes glowed amber mixed with red.

“I know you aren’t human and I’m fine with that… I get the feeling I’m not either.”

“Angel Man I’m going to take you for a ride you’ll never forget.”

His cock twitched. Lighting fast reflexes had her spun in his arms, her full breast pressed against his chest. “I wouldn’t have it either other way.” Breathless with anticipation he stood stock still.

“Don’t just stand there, lift me up.” Her whispered words tickled his ear. He gripped her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter beside the sink. Moving between the long legs she spread wide, he groaned. The heady scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, and her heat practically singed him. Her eyes burned the strange amber-red that gave him butterflies.

“I need to know if you’re as tempting as you smell.” He flicked his tongue out to caress the seam of her lips, she opened her mouth and he slipped inside. Surrounded by the taste of sweet syrup and Heaven Leigh his head swam. Her nails dug into his back and their tongues battled. He gripped her hips squeezing tight as he used her as his anchor. His heart swelled, threatening to overflow with heady emotions he could barley wrap his healing brain around. More than an object of lust, or infatuation, this woman was a lifelong dream fulfilled.

She pried her lips from his. “Bed now!” Her husky command called him to attention like a general as she wrapped her legs around him. He lifted her from the counter. Their lips met again and he stumbled down the hall, collapsing on to the bed with her in his lap. “Oh!” She ground in to him rolling her hips into his lap, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Her tongue caressed the wound and he watched transfixed as she swallowed taking a part of him inside her, a prelude to the act to come. Her body shook. “You burn so good going down, like whiskey.” Tilting her head she offered up her neck. “Want a taste?”

A feral impulse rose, from a dark, and possessive place. Clamping down on her skin until he drew blood he lapped the wound. The thick liquid singed his tongue and his throat and he growled. When he pulled away the wound healed like magic. An image of black wings flashed in his mind. Fairy?

She placed a hand on the center of his chest, pushed him down and bent down to graze his lips with hers. “How about I take the reins this time?”

Mute he nodded.

“First thing we need to do is get these clothes off you. I want to see the goods.” She winked and he laughed at her sassiness.

“I want to see you.”

A devilish smile showcased two dimples on either side of her face. “Then that’s what you’ll get. Scoot to the end of the bed.”

He complied and she stood from the bed. Power swept through the room and music sounded. The raw, edgy rift of a guitar rent the air, followed by the low thrumming of bass. Heavenleigh’s hips swayed. Eyes closed she was one with the rhythm, interpreting the lyrics with her body. Clutching the edge of her shirt she pulled it over her head, barring her pink bra with black skulls. Her breasts were high and firm, and her waist was trim where it dipped in before swelling out into hips he wanted to wrap his fingers around. The urge to mar her skin with his mark burned bright in his belly. He gripped the sheets below him, licking his lips as she unbuttoned her skirt, hooked her thumbs in the side, and swiveled her hips making love to the air Saliva filled his mouth. She pushed the denim down and revealed a set of fishnet underwear with pink bows on the side, and he did his best not to drool all over himself.

Strutting over she sat in his lap facing him. She ground her hips to the music, reached behind her and popped the bra. The reveal of the caramel mounds sent him over the edge. Darting forward he sucked a dime size, nipple into his mouth.

She moaned, dug her fingers into his hair, and arched her back. “Don’t forget the twin, she’s mighty lonely.” Heeding her advice he moved his hand up to massage her right breast, alternating between them both. Wetness escaped her panties and soaked the front of his pants.

“Bite them Angel Man. I like to be handled with a rough touch.” He bit down on the beaded tip and she gasped.

If you liked what you read you can find the entire store below

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Support your Sister Morgan King tells her story

Support Your Sister-

I’ve loved every one of the stories the ladies contributing to Shyla’s Colt’s Support Your Sister Campaign have shared. I’m struck by how very open each writer has chosen to be, it’s beautiful, and I feel in sharing something with you I can’t do any less…

Just over a year ago my husband left me and my son. We had been together for twelve years, married eight, and I genuinely believed marriage should never end. Don’t worry I have no angst against men to express here . What is relevant is that for the first time as an adult I was single and for me the past year has been a lot about learning who I am, particularly as a woman. My perception of myself has slowly shifted from being about how a man defines me to how I see myself. I like what I see and I couldn’t have done it without some fantastic women in my life.

As soon as I could bring myself to tell people what had happened the women in my life rallied round and a year on they continue to do so.

For months one friend offered and looked after my son one afternoon a week just so I could do what I wanted for a couple of hours when I wasn’t in work or being a parent. Now, another friend stays over once a week so I can go to Hot Yoga. A friend, who was my husband’s friend first, invites me and my son over for fish and chips on a Friday.

My sister sends me care packages in the post, with beauty treats and chocolate.

My mother is just always there for me, including once a week staying over so my son can wake her up first and I get a lie-in.

A group of ladies I met online, through a natural parenting group and a sub-group that like to talk about sex keep me sane with humour and I now see some of them on a regular basis. The fun things we’ve done like sexy photo shoots have really helped to boost my confidence.

Then there are the female friends who have just been there for me to do social things with. I appreciate that too.

And all my new virtual writer friends (most of them being women) who have welcomed me into the community.

As a young adult I never had girlfriends, discovering I have them now is a revelation. Without the support of these women I couldn’t be a successful working parent. I am a Director for a large charity, I’m a published author, and I’m a dedicated parent. I am a strong woman, with the help of other strong women.

Thank you!

If you want to know more about me (new friends always welcome):

http://www.facebook.com/authormorganking

http://www.facebook.com/morgankingauthor

authormorganking.wordpress.com

Morgan King @EroticWritings

Support Your Sister Iyana Jenna gives us both sides of sisterly support

Support Your Sisters

I want to thank Iyana for coming on being brave enough to share her story. Supporting those we love isn’t always the easiest thing to do.

Hi dearies, I’m so proud to be a part of Shyla Novak’s project Support Your Sisters. I was not so sure what to write at first, though, when I read what she said about the project: It’s all about writers, females in particular, lending a hand, passing down their knowledge, and banding together. To be honest I’m fairly new in this writing business and I have to admit I still have a lot to learn and every time I read what other writers came up with in their stories, I can only sit here in awe. Perhaps I don’t fit to be the one to support as I still need the support myself. But after reading several writing pieces in the project, I began to get the picture. All right, I’ll try to get something for you.

Before I start, I want to talk about the date for my participation here. It is June 27. On this day 36 years ago my little sister was born. A very beautiful girl. Our little angel. She will still be the one and we all will remember her that way. She left us when she was just three years old. We were all devastated but life must go on.

I do believe I have a lot of sisters everywhere, at the place where I work and study, and here with my fellow writers. You are my sisters and brothers. You are my family. Now I want to talk about sisters in the family that share blood with me. It’s actually quite hard for me to talk about it but I really want to share. I’ve kept this for quite long and only talked about it with someone. Sometimes I just want to explode and tell her to go to hell, but this someone I talk to keeps reminding me. She is family. You are her family. Who else can she go to for help if not to her own family?

I have helped but I have my own needs, and sometimes I just feel how unfair it is. It’s her own fault yet she wants us all to pay for her mistake? But when I imagine how her life is with all her problems, I just can’t imagine it. She is literally begging from other people to support her life. I don’t want to imagine her life as I’m not like her. I’m not going to make the same mistake as her and I’m sorry to say this but I’m not that stupid. I don’t want people to come and ask me what if I were in her place. Well, I won’t be in her place. Knock on wood.

Having said all of that, I know I will still help her. This might be a lesson I and everyone in my family have to learn from—and what a price to pay. I keep asking myself if I can still respect her. I’m wondering not because she practically has nothing right now, but because a person’s worth is not decided upon what they have, but what they are. Still she has to work hard to earn the respect and she has to make sure she will never do the same mistake again.

Shyla, I’m sorry if I overshare, but your project title really hits home and I can’t think of anything else to say. Support your sisters. I’m trying my best to do it right now.

Iyana Jenna’s new Romance on the Go with the title Release Me will be on Evernight Publishing.

Meet Iyana here:

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Mid week Inspiration : The Past can’t hold me – Romcon Experience

Hey guys!

I’ve missed my Mid-week inspirations, but I think it’s been for a wonderful cause! The Support your Sister month has been everything I dreamed it being, and more! This stories have been inspiring, informative, and most importantly, bonding. Knowing that other women out there have gone through similar circumstances and gone on to be the lovely women they are is … indescribable.

Today I want to talk about the struggle I’ve been having. First I’d have to take you back to my past. I’ve always been more introverted, quiet, observant, and willing to let others shine. It turned into a bad habit I’ve only begun to break from my mid-twenties on. *grimaces at the memories. My assumption that those people would return the favor when it was my turn to sparkle a bit have been proven wrong this year, and it was a painful realization to come to. It had me down, and questioning many things. I had to do some soul searching. You’ll be happy to know though those folks are gone and I’m keeping it moving.

Being in this industry requires met and greets, talking about you, presenting your work… All things I have a very hard time with. Often it feels like boasting, or being, ungrateful or vein. I had to fight to find a way to do what needs to be done in a manor I could feel comfortable with. I think I’ve find the right recipe, but I’ll always be a little squeamish when it comes to PR. The point is. I’m overcoming my fear, and hang ups slowly but surely, and I’m proud of that. Who we’ve been or once were doesn’t determine who we’ll be. To me that’s great news. I wanted to share this, because I know we all have trouble with different things. Maybe you want to pursue something but know it’s not exactly in line with your comfort zone. I say go for it.

*clears throat. Now I’m going to do that part I just mentioned above as being hard, lol, and talk about Romcon.

Last weekend I attended my very first convention as an author! Something I never dreamed would happen in a million years. Running events next to Heather Graham was mind blowing. Can I say she’s fantastic! I’ve been reading her for so long it was a total fangirl moment meeting her and she was just so damn cool and laid back! *sighs. I could gush over her for hours, but I won’t. I also got to meet Gena Showalter, so sweet, chill, and absolutely gorgeous. There were so many fan girl moments, Molly McAdams, Eve Langlis… who I ran an event with. Let me tell you folks she is just as funny in person as she is in her books!

When I started out my first day of actual events I was nervous! I’m a reformed shy girl and the introvert in me likes to rare its head at the most inconvenient of times. Thank God for Maya DeLeina and her gorgeous new vampire who sat next to me for the speed date. Bolstered by their kindness, silent support, and confidence I was ready to greet folks in no time. The rest of the convention followed that way. I made some wonderful new friends, readers, and authors alike, signed items, gave away books, and shirts. I got some great advice, and finally got to feel like OMG I’m really an author! Going to this convention was one of the best things that happened this year. I’m so glad I had the courage to sign up and go through with it. You guys know my schedule is crazy with the Mr. at the beck and call of Uncle Sam ( and call they do.) So I had to do a lot of planning to make this happen. In the end it was totally worth it, and I learned a lot about myself and added another noche onto my authors swagger. *giggles

What do you think you’ve changed for the better about yourself over the years? Any other reformed shy girls out there kicking ass and taking names? I think we’ve all got a bit of bad assery in us somewhere… it’s simply when we choose to unleash it . *winks

Support your Sister.The Perception of Perfection and Sisterhood with London St. James

The Perception of Perfection and Sisterhood

That which is striking and beautiful is not always good, but that which is good

is always beautiful. ~Ninon de L’Enclos~

I’ve talked about the perception of perfection before, but when thinking about sisterhood, so much of this preconceived idea that we need to be perfect at all costs, got me to thinking the topic was worth talking about again.

As a writer of romance, I have been asked about the images portrayed in romance novels. The beefcake men and the beautiful, sexy women. My response is, “It’s fantasy. We all want to live out a fantasy.” And while I will be the first to admit, I love the beauty of the human form, the truth is; there is no such thing as perfection. Even in my writing, if you look close enough, my heroes and heroines have flaws in some way.

I’ve spoken to a lot of women who feel the need to be perfect. I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t been one of those women because I have been, but I’m also lucky, because I had a mother who always had a way of keeping it real, even when I was old enough to know better than to get hung-up on perfection and the sometimes snarky ways that girls/women have with each other in our attempt to be “better” than our sisters. Many times I heard my mother say, “No amount of beauty outshines an ugly heart.”

Sisters, we need to build each other up, because we have enough out there to pick away at our self-esteem and tear us down. We are constantly bombarded with perfect images of the female form, the perfect size two, the sexy pouting lips, big boobs, small waists. We are faced with these images daily in advertisements, commercials, TV shows, magazines, and somewhere along the way we buy into those images and the need to be, “superwoman,” if you will. We buy the best products like make-up to conceal, mascara to make our lashes look like a splay of long feathers, creams to heal and repair, and dyes to make our hair look lustrous. We lament over the perfect shade of lipstick and nail color. We fuss and muss over the dress, the shoes, and yes even the underwear. And soon we begin to think, what else do I need to do to look like a Victoria Secret model? We kill ourselves in the gym; toil and sweat. We fall for the latest diet fads, buy crazy machines to help us shape our bodies, and do so many leg lunges are asses get numb. Sometimes we even go under the knife. We allow others, including men, to dictate who we should be, and what we should look like.

As women we wear many hats. Daughter, friend, mother, sister, money-maker, lover….. We run households and million dollar companies. We change diapers, mop floors, make lunches, head-up meetings, multitask, take fresh baked brownies to the party for little Joey’s kindergarten class, and stop hostile takeovers all by noon. Shew *wipes brow* the list goes on and on. The old saying, “A woman’s work is never done,” is literally true. So along with all the pressure to do all of these things and be perfect, we tend to lose ourselves somewhere along the way. Don’t get me wrong, I think we should strive to be the best we can be, but we need to also strive to love ourselves for who we are, flaws and all. The stress and pressures we apply to our daily lives are tremendous, and don’t even get me started on the pressure we put on ourselves to be everything to everyone.

So ladies, I say, chill-out. Perhaps take a good “look” at the heart. Too many people look at the fancy cover, but never open the book to see what’s written inside. We work so hard on the outside, but what do we do for the inside? Learn about yourself. Experiment a little. Ask yourself, “What do I like?” Find out about you. What do you find interesting and what do you really enjoy? Take a walk, listen to music, take a bubble bath, read a good book, cook something you really want to eat without the guilt or worry that you might gain an ounce or two. Veg out on the couch once in a while, and wear your baggy pajamas. Once you’ve learned that it’s really okay to love yourself, it becomes easy to love others, therefore strive to do so. Give a fellow sister a helping hand, a kind word of encouragement, or be a listening ear/shoulder to cry on.

Warning: After learning to love yourself, and opening up your heart to others, you might be surprised by the woman you see in the mirror, and maybe somewhere along the way you will find you truly are superwoman, there’s just no need to wear the designer cape!

Author London Saint James BIO

London wrote her first short story in the second grade. Her teacher informed her parents London had a big imagination, but having a big imagination wasn’t necessarily a good thing as far as he was concerned. Without watering that seed of imagination, London placed her vivid characters, her childhood stories, along with her imagination on the shelf, where they would wither for a while. At the urging of her eighth grade English teacher, London pulled her imagination off that shelf, and wrote her second short story. To no surprise, it was a love story inspired by a song. Then as life does, it moves on, so yet again London placed her imagination on the shelf to wither for a while. She needed to do the “sensible thing.”

The sensible thing earned London a degree in Psychology, but while in college she traversed into writing once more, and was encouraged by a couple of professors to pursue that endeavor. She took on the world of written word, and has never looked back.

London writes erotic romance from sweet to downright naughty. She is an author for Evernight Publishing, a member of the Romance Writers of America, and a member of Passionate Ink.

Where to find London:

Web: http://www.londonsaintjames.com

Blog: http://londonsj.blogspot.com

Twitter: @LSJRomance

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

Evernight’s Author Page: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/London-Saint-James.html

Support Your Sister post from C.R. Moss Dark Side of Girls Club

This is an amazing post! She touches on so many of the things I myself have wondered, thought, and even discussed with my own husband. Thank you so much for putting this out there C.R. and giving me hope. Some of my worst hurts have come not from a man, but from a woman, a supposed to be sister in arms who would always have my back. I’m healing and letting ago, but this post really helped me have a break through. This is how women help one another, share their lives, stories, experiences, hand them down to the next so they can learn and grow. *sighs. So full of happiness right now. Thank you all for participating in something I feel is very special and much needed. Now enough of my yapping. here’s C.R. *grins

When I learned about the month long feature, I thought what a great idea and jumped on the chance to be a part of it. But to be honest, now that I’m sitting down to compose my post, I’m having trouble with it. Thinking about women and how they’re supposed to be supportive of each other is bringing up a lot of memories…unfortunately not so good ones. I get that most of you probably won’t relate to everything I have to say, but I’m hoping that maybe a tidbit here or there will resonate. What I have to say, though, will lead to suggestions to combat ‘the dark side,’ so please bear with me.

Shyla mentioned in her post on June 1 that she grew up, and in a lot of ways still is, “A guys girl.” Same here. Though the term I use for myself is tomboy. If you go to http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=tomboy and read the first few definitions, they pretty much sum me up. No, I don’t have brothers, but I am the oldest child in my family. I have almost 6 years on one sister and almost 9 on the other. So for a bit of time I was the only child. I’d go fishing with my dad, help him with yard work, then when we moved from one town to another I was out playing with the neighborhood boys—war, soccer, football, etc.—and I also learned how to fire weapons. Actually, one of my first friends I remember is a boy who lived down the street, and I was sad when we had to move cause that meant leaving him behind, too.

This is not to say that I didn’t have girlfriends. I did. I was in groups like Girl Scouts, 4-H and Twirling. It’s just that I feel more comfortable in small groups—me and one or two other ladies, rather than in a larger gaggle of females, and I feel way more comfortable with guys overall. See, when it comes to what I call “The Girls’ Club”—which is any group that involves total female dynamics—I pretty much feel like an outsider, and it seems whenever I finally make it into a ‘clique’ or ‘club,’ I get ‘booted out’ again, either by them snubbing me or by my choice of withdrawing myself from the situation…all due to the ‘dark side.’

Let me share some of my personal experiences so you understand where I’m coming from and what I mean when I say ‘the dark side.’

Women have been fighting for years for equality, to break barriers, to have and keep important places in the world. Not only do we fight against and within a patriarchal society, we tend to compete within our own ranks as well. Older women vs younger women/Mothers vs Daughters/Women vs Women/etc. Women chase the fountain of youth elixir and work hard to make ourselves into some skewed ideal because the older generation, the media, men seeking ‘the newer & better’ (aka younger) versions and so on don’t send the right messages to our gender. Young women, and even older, constantly try to be thinner, prettier, better than their counter part, etc, working themselves into a tizzy for? What? Think about the Dove campaign and the stories girls tell on the commercials. Look at the women on the commercials. Look at the birth control commercials (before all the lawsuits took them off the air). I watch those commercials and wonder where are the fatties? (Yes, I am overweight.) Aren’t bigger girls beautiful too? Dove, you’re supposed to be showing ‘real’ women but the women you got on there aren’t like the ones I know. And the birth control…what? Big beautiful women aren’t loved? Don’t have sex? Don’t deserve partnerships and the need for the product? It’s too bad advertisers can’t see the real messages they’re conveying.

I’ve known mothers to tell their daughters they’re not good enough, and even if it’s not a direct comment, the connotations can be just as damaging. I had that happen a few times as a child in regard to my writing, and it grew into a writing block that took me a long time to conquer.

Then there’s the ‘Glass Ceiling.’ http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/glass%20ceiling Years ago, I worked in the Global Communications department at a major pharmaceutical company. (A department comprised of all women, from the top executive down to us contracted members.) It came time for “Take Our Daughters to Work Day” and I was part of setting up the event at the corporation—press release, pictures, internal/external communications and such. When working on it, I was informed that sons would be involved in it, too, and that the name needed to be changed to “Take Our Children to Work Day.” That irritated me beyond belief. “Take Our Daughters to Work Day”—originally called “Take Our Daughters to Work Program” was founded by Gloria Steinem and the Ms. Foundation for Women in 1993. This program was put in place because research found many girls lacked confidence. Girls were dropping out of school by the eighth grade and needed to be shown why education was important. Plus, the program showed young women there were opportunities out there they may not have known about before and could now explore. I felt the TODWP was an awesome way to break through the oppressive glass ceiling, empower girls and help them develop into strong and confident women. In a department of all women I thought they would understand the importance of keeping the program pure, of supporting young women and showing them there are great opportunities. But no. The PC BS overrode the core intent of the program and boys were allowed to come as well. That was in the late 90’s. In 2003, the program changed and officially allowed the inclusion of sons in the event, to show how education is important to all, and now the program name includes ‘Children’ or ‘Daughters and Sons’.

And, it’s not just the past I’m talking about. Ever since I joined the writing/publishing community (first story published in 2008), I’ve sank deep into the dark side of the girls’ club and come up swinging for air a couple of times. Now, I’m not saying I’m pure. I’ve had my moments. But I also felt I was one of the more supportive people in the circles I’ve been in, at one point being called ‘the proud Aunt cheering on her girls.’ Yet, did I feel the love of reciprocation when it came time for them to have my back? You probably can guess what my answer is. Yeah, it’s a big fat no.

Oy, the drama, the cattiness, the competition, the egos, the behind the back comments of the “The Girls’ Club.” Remember the cliques back in school during your childhood? Bet you can think of something your mother or father (or other adult) said that didn’t sit well with you. Bet you can also think of a time when you were around other women and had something great to say but then the others would tout their ‘great thing’ and make theirs seem like it was much better than yours. If you’re a mother, I’m sure this has happened. You can’t tell me it hasn’t…that you never said “My child _” and some other woman went “Well, my child _ earlier.” or something close to that. You know, this cr*p doesn’t happen between men. DH and I have had conversations about it. If problems occur, men work it out in some form or another, may have a beer/drink and then are good to go. But women? We seem to work against each other a lot and hard, too. After all our struggles to get to where we are and have the opportunities we do, one would think we’d band together, be uplifting, support each other regardless of race, class, education, etc. But we don’t. And then women wonder why men don’t get them. And women wonder why other women are so hurtful to them…and the cycles continue.

Speaking of children. Why would a woman make another feel bad because she’s childless? So what if a woman chooses not to bring more humans into the world? Or what if she can’t have children? Why do women make it sound like there’s something wrong with the childless female? IMO, I think that’s mean. And, yes, I’m speaking from experience on this as well.

Everything I’ve written above? That’s the dark side I’m talking about.

I have to say that I do have four women I know I can absolutely lean on if I truly need support. Two are friends of mine whom I’ve known since the mid-nineties. One of them when I had to go through a major, life-altering surgery in 2012 didn’t hesitate to say she’d fly out to be with me if I needed her. She also buys my books, talks me up to the people she knows and is one of my biggest cheerleaders. Another friend is like a soul sister to me. When we met she and I connected on an energetic, spiritual level that I had never really experienced before. We help each other with our writing careers, have awesome in-depth conversations about life, the universe and everything, and we ‘get’ each other. Quite a bit, I find myself wishing she lived closer. Then of course, there’s my awesome writing partner, whom I’m really proud to call my best friend. I don’t know how I would have gotten through some of the rough patches of my life without her. She’s a soul sister to me, too. So, yes, I do have the support of females, but it’s taken me a long, long time to get to this point and to trust those who are in my life.

But what do we do to combat this dark side and achieve universal ‘sister’ support? See? Didn’t I say to bear with me and that suggestions would come?

In my opinion, changing the status quo needs to start very early in life. Mothers and fathers need to be really careful about what they say to their daughters and how they say it. Daughters need to be taught to love and respect themselves for the wonderful humans they are. Girls should learn and understand how necessary it is to be ‘with the’ other girls around them and not ‘against’ them and as they love and respect themselves they should do the same for their counterparts. Early on young ladies need to develop the skills to be confident in themselves, to be strong, to know they can accomplish whatever it is they set their minds to, and they need the older generation who understands and sees this necessity to step forward and mentor them. But they also still have to know how to be humble. For those of us who are already out of our formative years, that’s a tough road. There are a lot of habits and years of conditioning to fight through. But, to start, I think we have to realize we’re all in this life, riding the same rock, together. We all are damaged in our own ways, but we shouldn’t continue condemning and pointing out each other’s flaws. It doesn’t serve the common good to be petty or backstabbing or prideful or egotistical, think you’re better because of _ or _, etcetera, etcetera. Yes, it’s fine to compete, be proud of accomplishments and to go out and achieve greatness. Yes, it takes all kinds to run this world. But don’t you think there should be a line that doesn’t get crossed, a line where we should stop and not play the “I’m going to one up you” game? Perhaps if we all started to say “Hey, good going. You’re awesome!” and be more considerate of our fellow ‘sisters,’ the world would become a more positive and wonderful place, and the ‘dark side’ would disappear.

Information about C.R. Moss and her books can be found at http://www.crmoss.com

Support You Sister~ Carlene Flores tells us why Moms rock

I just have to say thank you to Carlene for stopping by and sharing this beautiful piece! I am filled with happiness, hope, and joy as we all rally together this month and share our experienced. I hope you’re having the same experience.

When I first sat down to think about writing this piece, I was overwhelmed because I knew there were so many wonderful women I wanted to tell you about. Family, friends, writers, professionals, some whose names I know and others I don’t. All women who have helped me or inspired me or left an impression on me. But then I quickly realized that was a wonderful thing! To have too many good things to choose from–may we all have that blessing throughout our lives.

So I thought about it a little more, and I kept seeing memories from my childhood, when I was first taught the value of friendship, girl-friend ship that is.

I was raised by my mother in Las Vegas, Nevada in the 80’s. We did okay because my mom worked her tail off to support us but even at that, it would have been very hard to do it alone. I can’t remember a time when we didn’t have a roommate, usually a woman who my mom would meet through her co-workers at the newspaper. Not only would this lady help with the rent, she would also hang out with me when mom worked long hours at night. I learned how to play cards from our roommates and I got meat for dinner when they cooked! Mom tended towards the ramen noodles and salad, which I loved but oh, the steaks that our roommate Gail made me were so delicious. And the greens and potatoes.

Gail quickly became closest to us, and the three of us lived together for a very long time. She is my mom’s best friend and my Mom #2. I’ll never forget the times she cooked for me, the times we shared sweater dresses and my bubblegum pink Reeboks, and all those nights watching Knots Landing, Dynasty, Dallas, and Falcon Crest. They were long, long days, sometimes eight hours long, but I loved when Gail took me to her hair salon and I got to watch all that magic happening on her head with the corn row braids and the wooden beads. I also remember the tough times the three of us got through together. It still makes me cringe to think of the few nights when Mom slept on the floor, her pillow butted up against the front door to our apartment to ensure a man who had tried to hurt us would never be doing that again. We looked out for each other. Period.

It never fails to make me smile that I can proudly say I was raised by two women of different colors, different backgrounds, but the same loving hearts. To my Mom #1, Claudia, and my Mom #2, Gail, I love them both so very much. Another little thing that makes me smile…when I realize there’s no separating who we are from what we write. It just trickles in and saturates the words. And what a life, what a beautiful, unforgettable life I’ve had, thanks to these women.J

Thank you so much Shyla for hosting this month long of Supporting our Sisters! Hugs to you my friend and hugs to all the special women reading these posts this month. J

Always love,

Carlene Love

Support Your Sister~ A Courageous tale told by Alyssandra Foster — every woman should read this

I’d like to ask everyone to take their time and read this, because the women in this story could be someone you know. An aunt, a sister, or a cousin. Don’t remain silent, speak out, offer help, and get involved. Sometimes all a person needs is to know they’re not alone in this. Thank you to Alyssandra for sharing.

First off, I would like to thank Shyla for having such an amazing event. Bringing women together and showcasing lifting each other up instead of tearing each other down, is something we should do more often.

As long as I can remember, I have used books to escape to a wondrous fantasy, and take my mind away from whatever turmoil was wreaking havoc on my life. A story that is well told can either shield you from a sad and dark reality, or open your eyes to it.

Throughout my teens my mother was a victim of domestic violence. I used reading and writing to tune out the daily chaos that surrounded me. My sister and I were witness to all night screaming matches, physical abuse and mental intimidation. My mother underwent years of this until my senior year in high school. She finally ended the horrible relationship with her boyfriend, kicking him out and the summer after I graduated we moved into a new home not far from our old one. Shortly after moving her abuser became her stalker. A few months after we moved in I got engaged and moved to the South with my fiancé. Little did I know things for my mother and sister had become far worse than I could ever imagine. On January 13, 2004 my mother and 1fifteen year old little sister were found dead in their home, the culprit was her long time abuser.

Years after putting them to rest, I felt as though there was something I could have done to prevent them from being taken but we cannot turn back time. I realized that the only thing I could do is tell their story, our story, to other women going through it. Thousands of women across the country are struggling in these types of situations across the country silently every day. Many of them have children and though they love their children if the focus of the abuse is on the mother they don’t realize just how deeply their children are affected.

A few years ago I decided I needed to get out there and speak to the women who are in the middle of this brutal cycle. I found the number to my local Women’s shelter and asked if I could come to one of their meetings and speak about my experience being a kid who grew up in it. That first night was very emotional, I cried and many of the women cried with me and embraced me, but they also listened. We had a long conversation afterward about how their children feel and what they are learning from their mothers’ silence. One of the women told me, that until she heard me speak, she was very close to going back to her abuser. Hearing about the way my sister was killed with my mother, instantly changed her mind. She realized the abuse could easily escalate to her child. I visit and speak to new groups of women every few months hoping that I have made them see the desperation of their situations and give them the courage to change it.

I also have begun working with the victims’ advocates of the center in their volunteer law enforcement training program. We help educate local law enforcement officers on new and updated domestic violence laws as well as giving them insight on the mind of the victims. Helping the officers see things from the victim’s point of view, helps the women in need keep from feeling demonized and written off as crazy as some of them are.

Although I lost my loved ones, I feel as though if I can help another woman lift herself and her children out of their misery, their memory will carry on.

If you or anyone you know is being abused or you would like to donate please visit the link:

http://www.thehotline.org/

Support your Sister~ R. Brennan tells us what sister means to her!

What my sisters mean to me.

I was quite excited when fellow Evernight author, Shyla Colt mentioned she was planning a “sisters” event on her blog, as I truly owe a great portion of my writing “success” to a small group of female authors who make up my writing group on Scribophile, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pens. The women in this group have been around since I first started my writing journey almost three years ago — Wow, I can’t believe I have known them that long. Seems only yesterday I was mucking my way through the first tentative steps in my journey toward becoming a published author, posting chapters for feedback and critique and doing my best to stay on top of the new works they were all posting on a regular basis.

For purely selfish reasons, I decided it would be much easier if all the writers I enjoyed reading and doing critiques for were part of the same group than trying to keep track of what everyone was writing on my own. So I created the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pens group and invited about ten of these amazing female authors to join. I kept it simple, no required critiques, no rules — just a group of female writers supporting each other on the road to publication. Simple. To the point.

But, what started as a simple writing circle turned into much, much more. The forum threads are full of information on each of our lives, the ups and downs, births, deaths, kids, family life, and of course writing, querying, experience with this publisher or that editor, recommendations of places to sub, people to network with, and even those to avoid like the plague. We have become more than online acquaintances, we have become good friends. We celebrate each others success, and are there for each other should one of us falter. The ladies in that group have become some of the most important people in my life. I trust they will be honest in their opinions and never let me submit something that truly wasn’t ready. At one point many of us even agreed that the first one of us hit the writing lottery and become the next J.K. Rowlings or E.L. James, they will take the rest of the sisters on a trip to Fiji to celebrate… Wouldn’t that just be a kicker? I know many of the ladies are certainly talented enough to garner that sort of attention, but we shall see what the writing gods have in store.

What started three years ago as about eight unpublished writers, has grown to nearly forty five, many with multiple pub credits under their belts now. And, while not all of them are as active as the rest, the door is open to all of them to say what they think, ask questions, vent, cry, rail, or just chat whenever they decide they want to step into the spotlight. And, if they don’t, well that is just fine, too. Everyone is different. Whether they be lurkers or active participants in the group, they are always welcome, and I will always consider them all my Pen sisters.

***R. Brennan is the erotica writing alter-ego of published author, Rebecca Hart. To check out her erotic romance titles, you can stop by her blog: http://bexbooknook.wordpress.com or stalk her on twitter: #@bexbrennan (Often NSFW, but usually entertaining. Try me )

Support Your Sister~ Michaela Rhua talks The freedom to be you.

To me feminism is all about a woman’s right to choose things for herself. This post really exemplified that for me. Thank you for sharing your story with us Michaela! Comment to win this lovely drink glass and show your support for your sisters Daily.

Freedom is the choice to be just you, not as others would wish you to be!

This is the strap line of my website page and something I really believe in. You see, freedom is a basic right for all.

Growing up in my childhood home it was not something we had. Dad ruled the roost and not always in a good way. Mum did not have the freedom to express herself – because she was a woman. As a girl nothing much was expected of me. Maybe that was the reason I loved school, it was the place I could be me, teacher’s saw something in me and pushed me. I was able to develop different sides and begin to discover who I am.

Education was the way out for me – to go explore the world. Not everyone has that. You get stuck where you are and don’t have the means or opportunity to get yourself out, or even the support network to help make life better.

As women, we get held back by the expectations of others. Family, friends, work colleagues etc all have an idea of who we are. Sometimes we get stuck in that mould created around us. I know I did – this is where writing comes in.

For me writing is a way of being free. I write under a pen name – my choice – have to think of the EDJ and to be quite honest, because not everyone around me approves. But I look back on my mother’s life and it spurs me on to do more, be more and live more. My wonderful online writing group – UCW – who blog as The Nuthouse Scribblers – inspire, motivate and encourage me onwards. They are an incredible support network.

This thread – searching for you, to be free and to make your own choices – is in my writing in some way.

I will end this post with this: as women we have a right to make our own choices, to be who we wish to be, to make our own choices and to encourage others to do the same.

Go forth and conquer!

Author Bio:

Michaela Rhua always dreamed of writing but this never happened until she met the lovely group of ladies known as UCW. Their passion for writing and encouragement inspired her to see if she could do it too. Now she is multi published and loves writing!

She has teenage children and a husband, who also keep her busy. However, it is whilst travelling into work that she has time to create her characters and imagine other places in which they exist as her world skims by the window. Conversations overheard often lead to the birth of new ideas that she scribbles down in her trusty notebook.

If you want to find out more about me look here:

Website: http://michaelarhuaauthor.weebly.com/

Blog: http://www.michaelarhuaauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/michaelarhua/

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