Totally Psyched with Totally Entwined Group

I have had a wonderful journey getting Jewel of Ramstone ready for publication with Totally Entwined Group (Totally Bound)

Click here! Excerpt, Link, and so much more.

Pre-order: February 16th
Early download: March 1st
General release: March 29th

Here's a little teaser:

Cover Reveal

No words needed. The cover art by Emmy Ellis says it all. 

Flat Tire Inflated!

Here's a little update from the weary author on the road to starting over.

I was happily traveling along the road of a published author...wind traveling through my hair...dreaming up plots for my next book. My characters rode in the backseat, encouraging my ideas. Sometimes a new character would hitch a ride, chattering in the passenger seat, convincing me why they'd enrich the story. 

Then I got a flat tire and hobbled on the rim until the road stopped. Yep. I hit a dead end, dark forests on each side. And my rim was as damaged as my spirit.

But I'm a stubborn soul. I climbed out of the vehicle, motioned for my characters to follow, and traipsed through the scary woods, manuscripts in hand.

 We didn't cross any wolves or gingerbread houses, despite my character, Ruby, insisting she wear a red cloak. We did come across a perfect home though.

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 I am happy to announce my novel, Jewel of Ramstone, was accepted by Totally Bound Group. (Part of Totally Bound Publishing)

I'm eagerly awaiting edits.  Waiting is hard for me, so in the meantime, I'm continuing the Medieval Quest series. One of my favorite secondary characters from Jewel of Ramstone gets to tell his story in this book.

I've got a slew of work to keep me busy, as I tend to have more than one (or five) works in progress.

 My diverse characters need a place to exist after all:

A contemporary romance about a paralyzed woman rebuilding her life.

A fantasy romance about a human in love with an alien.

Another fantasy about a lost soul with a broken wing and spirit who crashes into a Christmas forest.

I'm revamping the three books in the Magic Stone Series.

I'm also co-authoring yet another project. Woman's fiction surrounding the hi-jinxs between twin sisters while they attempt to save a bed and breakfast from foreclosing.

In my spare time I write story ideas on paper towels while cooking dinner. 

Poking My Feet Out of the Window

My publisher closed their doors, and I decided to open a window and climb out instead of waiting for another door to open. Was I upset? Yes. However, after my emotions face-planted me onto the couch and I used up my box of tissues and a roll of paper towels, I jutted my chin. Yep. Nothing, including all my books flying off of the shelves--and not in a good way--will not slay my determination.

When I started blogging, I shared my road to publication. It looks like it's time to do that again, huh?

Six books published, and now six looking for a home...yeah, another journey.

Recently, I submitted Jewel of Ramstone to a publisher. I gathered everything I needed.

My author bio was dated, the query and the synopsis in need of an update. 

Wow, I forgot how hard it was to write a query and synopsis! Not to mention talking about myself in a bio. I decided to embrace who I am, convey my love of writing and let my heart lead the query. The synopsis? Yeah, those give me hives, but I did it! Author bios come a bit easier, and I hope I got "me" across to the publisher. 

I'm keeping my nails on the keyboard, instead of of chewing them to a nub. My next book is in progress. Meanwhile, I'll check my email for  a contract...or (gulp) rejection.

Either way, I will continue on my quest--back into publication.

Nightmares and Dreams

This post is about a reoccurring nightmare that started when I was quite young. I would wake in a sweat, too terrified to scream. It happened so often, I actually expected it to return each time I closed my  eyes. As I grew , I sometimes knew I was dreaming and try to change the outcome. Lucid dream or not, I couldn't change it. Not one detail. 
However, I discovered a nightmare can become a dream--one to follow. Doesn't make sense? Read on.

The smell of lavender is strong while I flee through the castle gardens. Frustration mounts as the blue silk dress I'm wearing hinders my stride. I gather the skirts, kick off my shoes and run barefoot across the pebbled path. A low-hanging tree branch catches my braided hair, yanking me to a halt. Adrenaline swooshes through my veins, and fear drives me forward. Though I try to cover the distance between the gardens and the main doors of the castle, it’s as if I am running through water. My breath stutters with exertion, but I must make it inside to save a little child. I do not know if he’s my own, or why I must save him.

As I pass through the doors, my garb changes from the beautiful gown to tunic and breeches. Not only that, but quiver filled with arrows is slung across my shoulder and I clutch a bow in my fist.
 I find ruin in my path. The sweet lavender aroma turns to acrid smoke, choking me. My burning eyes fill with tears. The castle--my home--is in flames. I  search for the child. A suction of doom catches my heartbeat as I skid to a stop in a corridor. The child is in the arms of an enemy knight, my own father dead at his feet.

 I arm my bow with surety and watch the arrow meet its mark—through the man’s chest. He drops the child and I rush to the man, surprised I knock him down. Slipping a dagger from my boot, I trace a line across the man’s throat, assuring he is dead. Weeping, I damn the enemy to hell for killing my father.  
I hear the child whimper, It is a little boy. Deed done, I grab the child and flee to the lower level of the castle, recalling an escape through a door into the backfields. The lad is crying and I beg him to be quiet. I cannot pry the door open and someone...I just know it is the enemy...is clomping down the stone steps.  Vast rows of casks line the walls and I ditch in a space where one is missing. I clamp my hand across the child’s mouth and try to control my heavy breathing.

The footsteps draw near. Once again, I am clad in the silk blue gown.  The child is no longer in my arms, as if he never existed.  The hand against my lips, covered with the blood of my enemy, is my own. Now it's me the knight is after. I press my back hard against the cask when I glimpse the end of his lance.
 Dark and dank, the room smells like earth, tinged with oak. My heart pounds so hard, I am sure he can hear it, but he stalks by, his head void of a helmet. I hold my breath, waiting for him to pass...to give up his search...to allow me time to wake from this nightmare.

 The knight takes a step back, then another and slowly turns his head. We lock gazes, his squints, mine widen. I shake my head, unable to speak, to scream...to pray. 
The thud of his lance into the cask behind me takes my breath. I'm impaled. With my life slipping away, I grasp the lance in my chest, my blood mixing with ale, my breath whispering my last plea.
 Spare...the...child. 

Who is the child? I never knew. 
What a weird dream , huh?  I mean, I was a grown woman in the dream, yet a young child when I awoke--with a silent scream, clutching sweaty sheets, tremors of fear undulating from the inside out.  Certain of admonishment if I woke anyone with “that silly dream” for the countless time, I couldn't even call out for comfort after awhile. Cuddling deep in my covers,  I'd whisper it's just a dream into my pillow, but deep inside I knew it was real.
 I know that doesn't make sense, and even as a child I knew it was a contradiction, but somehow everything in that dream really happened. The familiarity of it all made me question myself and ...well, everything. 
I shared this dream with my family, but stopped doing so when I'd receive a slow smile, a shared look which closed me out. "You're being silly." A litte hug and "Now go play." I kept silent after that.
 I played imaginary games involving kings, queens, princesses and and knights that protected the people within the walls of the castle. I built some kick ass castles out of dominos, by the way. All along, I hoped my imaginings would calm the night to come. It didn't.
Somewhere along the way from childhood to adolescence, the nightmare stopped. One morning, halfway through a bowl of cereal, the realization hit.
 I didn't have "The dream" the night before.
 Odd as it seems, I simply knew I wouldn't have it again. No more knight, no more child, no more lance sliding effortlessly through my chest.
And I was right; I never did. However, the sound of the lance echoed in the recess of my mind as I drifted to sleep. That stayed with me long after the odor of smoke, blood, lavender, earth, and oak dispersed. The urgency to find the child, the fear, and death slowly drifted into a distant memory. The lance--the horrid sound of it hitting the cask behind me--was the last to leave.
 Many years later, the nightmare returned in a way. No, it didn't creep into my bedroom,intent on haunting my night. The fearful remnants which resided deep in my mind transformed into something pure and good. I suppose my subconscious was the culprit..or savior. 

I didn't plan on it, but the dreadful nightmare is a scene in my novel,  Jewel of Ramstone. This medieval romance was born from a long ago nightmare. 
So, as I stated earlier: A nightmare can become a dream--one to follow. A horrid experience made my dream come true.
 I'm a storyteller and I penned the life of Ruby in Jewel of Ramstone. A dream come true. 

UPDATE; Many readers fell in love with a secondary character, Sir Jac, in Jewel of Ramstone, So...yeah this will be a series. (I kind of have a crush on Jac too.) I've decided to call it Medieval Quest Series. Why you ask? (Okay, so you didn't, but pretend.) Because the obvious era, but mostly because the common vein is a quest to find truth, honor, memory, love...ya know, a quest for what is right. 

Twenty-fifth Day

Weird things pop in my mind. I'm serious. Today is November 25th, so like any weird person, I decided I must do something twenty-fivish.
So, here's 25 things that make my heart smile.

1. My very own knight, who mended my battle-weary heart

2. Every moment my children smile

3. Family--even the ones who make me grit my teeth

4. Memories of my Ma-maw

5. Phone calls from my sisters

6. Hot cocoa jokes 

7. Giggles at inappropriate times--which makes me laugh harder

8. Adventures in a different country 

9. A vivid imagination

10. The gift of storytelling

11. Editors (I swear, a good one makes the difference between celebration and dread.)

12. People who believe in me

13. Second chances

14. Hope

15. Unconditional love

16. First words

17. Last words

18. A whisper when I'm mad. (especially when his breath tickles my neck.)

19. Jumping jacks (only my sister will understand this.)

20. When someone reads my books--and loves them

21. Critiques

22. When a character appears out of nowhere

23. When a character takes over a story

24. When people  talk about  characters in my books like they're real

25. The day Jewel of Ramstone was finished. (Though I felt a bit lost without the characters filtering through every thought.)

Tah-dah, there's twenty-five thankful things!  *Wink* I'm thankful for alliteration too.