Author Donna Fasano, In All Directions

#3 on The Kindle Top 100 List

2012-02-29T19:57:00.000-05:00

His Wife for a While is having another successful run as a FREE Kindle book! Grab a copy before it's too late. There's only 4 hours left until the sale is over.

Davy Jones, Rest In Peace

2012-02-29T15:32:00.001-05:00

As a girl, I was infatuated with Davy Jones. He had dreamy eyes, a beautiful voice, a great English accent and he was funny too. A perfect package all rolled up into one young pop star. I bought magazines with his image plastered on the front covers. I pinned up posters of him on my bedroom walls. I watched him on television (he was the only sensible Monkee). And...I bought his records. The world has lost a wonderful person.

It's Margarita Time! Happy Birthday to me!

2012-02-22T12:55:00.002-05:00

I'm flying off to sunny Florida for a week of warm and happy relaxation and bliss!

Here's one drink I hope to be enjoying:

Strawberry Margarita

6 ounces tequila
3 ounces triple sec
1 cup frozen strawberries with syrup
4 ounces frozen limeade concentrate

Fill your blender 1/2 full of ice and pulse to crush. Add tequila, triple sec, strawberries (with syrup), and limeade concentrate. Blend for 30 seconds or until smooth.

Mmmmmm...I can feel the smile comin' on! And...

TO ME!

How a Big Yellow Truck Changed My Life

2012-02-20T11:33:00.001-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Christine DeMaio-Rice who shares her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. Take it away, Christine...

HOW A BIG YELLOWTRUCK CHANGED MY LIFE

(for the better)

by Christine DeMaio-Rice

An orange peel grapple is a big machine. Excavator on thebottom. Long arm in the middle. And a metal grapple on the end that looks likea horror movie claw. The base spins. The arm moves up and down. The grapplegrabs stuff like SUVs and big piles of metal.

You may come across one while driving, and if you have alittle boy in the car, you may have to pull over to watch the thing move carsinto a tractor trailer. Otherwise, nothing about this machine will rock yourworld.

But an orange peel grapple changed my life.

My life was a complete disaster at the time. Though I had abeautiful baby boy and a good husband, I had a job in an industry I swore Iwould never return to, at a company that wanted nothing more than to suck theblood directly from my heart with a curly straw. This, after I had already soldall the blood in my heart to the film industry, which after a few meetings andscreenwriting awards, looked like it might want to take a sip from that straw.

A sip, because as good as things were looking, I saw a longroad in front of me. My work was not “commercial enough,” and my manager hadmade it clear that years would pass before I would be able to convince anyonethat this lack of commerciality was a quality that was, well, commercial.

But no. My husband lost his job, and I found work in thefashion industry soon after. What I rapidly discovered was that, thoughout-of-towners could schedule meetings back-to-back all over town, Angelenoswere expected to take a meeting at the last minute, or blithely accept arescheduling. My boss, on the other hand, had no interest in moving around mypersonal days, and my sick days dwindled in my first three months on the job. Ittook only a few months for the meetings to dry up and for me to start writing aSanta Claus script out of desperation.

So, the blood-sucking fashion job with the inflexible hours wasright next to a scrap yard, which apparently opened at the crack of dawn becausewhen I got there at seven thirty every morning, the orange peel grapple wasalready grabbing away. If I had a minute, I watched it go up and down as Iclutched my coffee, and I thought, one day I should get a video camera and filmthis because my son would love it. Really love it.

My son was about eighteen months old and just learning totalk. I missed him while I was at work, adored him when he was awake and withme, and the rest of the time, I found room to resent him for taking me awayfrom writing. He was then, and has remained, a fireball of energy. His teacheralternated between calling him a Jack Russell terrier and a buzz saw. He isalso obsessive. Right now, he has a room full of Legos. Before that, it wasThomas the Tank Engine, and before that, it was trucks. Big yellow trucks. Hewouldn’t fall asleep unless he gripped a toy truck in each fist. When he receiveda Tonka loader for Christmas, it was love at first sight. He called it “lolo.”

One morning, with the vision of that big ‘lolo’ that I wouldlater know as an orange peel grapple dancing in my head, I dialed a friend’snumber. I’d known this man from Brooklyn, and he’d come to Los Angeles a fewyears earlier to attend the American Film Institute. Most importantly, he had acamera. When I got his answering machine, instead of asking him for the camera,I said something else entirely, something like, “Hey, wanna produce a kid’svideo together? Here’s the pitch. Trucks. Okay, bye.”

That moment may not seem pivotal, but most turning pointsdon’t when they happen. That moment, I took control of my creative life. Myfriend called me back the minute he got up, and we began the journey towardbecoming business owners. We did not pitch the idea around town, and we did notask permission to bring the work to the public. We put the DVDs on Createspace,and eventually had to hold inventory to meet the demand.

Lolo Productions and the TotallyTrucks series have had ups and downs, but the process taught me two things.One, my concepts need to be simple. If I can’t pitch it in five words, it’s nota concept I should develop. My second lesson is that I can be in control of myproduct and my creative life. If I think something is worthwhile, I can bringit to my customers. Becoming the producer and publisher of my work means I understandnow what agents and studio executives meant when they said “commercial.”

Without my son, I never would have taken the life-suckingjob. And without that job, there would have been no orange peel grapple. Andwithout that scrapyard, there would have been no Totally Trucks. No eye for the commercial and no control ofself-publishing. Who knows what I would have made without all the things thatpissed me off for interrupting my work.

~ ~ ~

Buy Dead is the New Black in paperback or for your Kindle

or for your Nook.

Potato Soup...YUM!

2012-02-18T23:45:00.003-05:00

It's winter here on the east coast of the US, and nothing warms a person up like a steamy bowl of delicious soup. Here's a recipe for Potato Soup that will fill your belly and make you smile. Enjoy!

1 pound bacon, chopped
2 stalks celery, diced
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
8 potatoes, peeled and cubed
4 cups chicken stock, or enough to cover potatoes
3 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup heavy cream
salt and pepper to taste

Directions

In a Dutch oven, cook the bacon over medium heat until brown and crispy (be careful not to burn it). Remove bacon from pan, and set aside. Drain off all but 1/4 cup of the bacon grease.
In the bacon grease remaining in the pan, saute the celery and onion until the vegetable soften. Add the garlic, and continue cooking for 1 to 2 minutes. Add the cubed potatoes, and toss to coat. Saute for 3 to 4 minutes. Return the bacon to the pan, and add enough chicken stock to just cover the potatoes. Cover, and simmer until potatoes are tender.
In a separate pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Whisk in the flour. Cook stirring constantly, for 1 to 2 minutes. Whisk in the heavy cream. Bring the cream mixture to a boil, and cook, stirring constantly, until thickened. Stir the cream mixture into the potato mixture. Puree about 1/2 the soup, and return to the pan. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with warm, crusty bread.

Taking Love in Stride DISCOUNTED

2012-02-16T09:44:00.000-05:00

I just saw that Amazon has discounted Taking Love in Stride to 99 cents. Grab a copy for your Kindle before the price goes up to $2.99! I thought I'd better let readers know about this deal. (Please check the price closely before 1-clicking!)

Find this book in the US Kindle Store

This book is also available in these fine stores:

Amazon UK Kindle Store

Barnes & Noble NookBook Store

Smashwords (in various digital formats, including PDF)

Also in PAPERBACK via Amazon

Here are a few reviews:

"Cute romance read." ~Martha E. Schlegel, Amazon reviewer

"This book had me from the provocative cover! I've enjoyed all of Donna Fasano's work and look forward to reading An Accidental Family next. Keep up the great work, Donna!" ~Patricia Roque, Amazon Reviewer

"I loved everything about this book, the story, the excellent writing, it kept me glued to the screen. I loved it." ~Karin Hurt, Amazon reviewer

"Romance novels are not something I usually read, but I was quickly hooked on Taking Love in Stride. Donna Fasano kicks off the book with conflict between two strong characters who feel mutual physical attraction. " ~Holly Weiss, Nook reviewer

Drum Roll, Please...

2012-02-15T18:18:00.000-05:00

I want to thank everyone who entered The Valentine Blog Hop! This has been very fun, and I appreciate each and every hopper who stopped by. Without further ado, I'd like to announce the winner. Congratulations go out to...

Teressa Oliver

Teressa has won the $10 Amazon gift certificate and the sterling silver frog earrings. She will also be entered in the drawing for the grand prize described at Book Luvin' Babes. Good luck, Teressa!

Romantic Sayings for Guys ♥

2012-02-13T17:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, this post is for all the guys out there who are anxiety ridden over how to sign those perfect Valentine's Day card you bought for the woman in your life. Of course, you could go for easy ~ I love you ~ and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. But if you want to melt her heart, how about something extraordinary?

~ ~ ~

Here are a few selections for women who love mushy-gushy:

~ I could search my whole life through and never find another you ~

~ Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice,

but falling in love with you was beyond my control ~

~ Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I've done in my life ~

If you looking for something a little more flirty, try:

~ The spaces between your fingers were made for mine ~

~ If nothing lasts forever...will you be my nothing? ~

~ Loving you is like breathing...I can't possibly stop ~

If none of those work for you, how about:

~ Your love is the sunshine that lights my world ~

~ Any joy, any wish, any dream can be ours...as long as we're together ~

~ You are the most delicious part of my fantasies ~

~ Some people say love makes the world go round,

I say love is what makes the ride worthwhile ~

Whatever you choose to sign in that perfect card, I'm sure it's going to make that special woman feel loved all the more. And isn't that the whole point of this special day?

♥ Happy Valentine's Day ♥

Just Me and James Dean

2012-02-12T10:27:00.000-05:00

Today I welcome fellow Indie Author, Cheryl Bradshaw who is sharing her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. All proceeds of the sale of this book are used in the fight against breast cancer.

Just Me and James Dean

by Cheryl Bradshaw

When I was a little girl I used to make up stories atbedtime for my younger sister, Michelle. The most vivid centered on a boy and a girl who received a piece of gum for Halloween intheir trick-or-treat bag, and when they chewed it, they were transported to amagical land where they were granted unlimited wishes. Even at such a young age, the process ofconcocting stories was effortless. Mymind revolved like the reel of a movie spinning inside my head.

I spent many hours daydreaming as a child. Back then everything was as beautiful andwhite as a freshly painted fence. Ifantasized about the day I would get married, the children I would have, thehouse I would own, and the life I would live when I was all grown up.

When I was a teenager, my mindstill swirled with girlish hopes and dreams. I remember lying on my bed in my room staring at a poster on mywall of James Dean. He was hunkered downon the seat of a motorcycle, and Marilyn Monroe was perched behind him with herarms wrapped around his waist, and her head resting on his shoulder. I wanted to jump into the poster like thegirl in A-Ha’s Take on Me video andride off into life’s highway, just me and James. Together, forever.

When I became an adult and moved out on my own to attendcollege at the tender age of eighteen, I thought I had my whole world figuredout. I’d developed a slight obsessionwith Agatha Christie and knew mysteries and thrillers were the perfect genrefor me as a writer. All kinds of ideasflowed for the first novel, and I thought I was on my way. There was just one problem: I never startedwriting.

Why?

I wasn’t prepared for the events that were about to takeplace in my life or how they would affect my journey. Life didn’t turn out to be the dream Ithought it would be, and I struggled—a lot, and faced challenges and trialsthat at times seemed more than I could bear. My relationships didn’t always work out, and all the babies I hoped tohave didn’t come like I’d planned. There were times when I felt like my life was like a shattered mirror,and I was on my hands and knees desperately searching for all the pieces of myselfso I could glue them back together and feel whole again. During those times I wondered how many otherwomen out there in the world felt the same exact way.

Time went on and I struggled, but eventually I picked myselfback up and I healed. With a new leaseon life and a positive attitude about what I’d overcome, I thought aboutwriting again. In 2009 I wrote Black Diamond Death, the first novel inmy Sloane Monroe series. Sinnerman followed six months later andnow I’m hard at work on the third, I Havea Secret.

As I sit here and write this, I’m shocked that I am being socandid. Normally, I safeguard myfeelings. To say I’m a private person isan understatement, but I feel compelled to get this out. My message in all of this is to never losesight of your hopes and dreams. Neverforget who you are, where you came from, and what you are capable ofaccomplishing in your life. And if youhave a passion, foster it with everything you have inside you. Let it shine. Let it breathe. Let it be.

When I pondered about the dedication I would use for Sinnerman, my direction was clear and Iwrote the following:

This book is dedicated to anyone who’s ever had adream. We have but one life, and one opportunity to live it. Make it last, make it count, and make it thebest it can be. Live your dreams, I knowI am.

Today, I’m no longer waiting for James Dean to ride up onhis shiny black motorcycle. I’ve fallenfor a different kind of boy now, one who dreams of wide open spaces and asimple life. One who wants to be acowboy when he grows up. Now the posterI see in my visions is one of man hoisting me up on the back of his trustysteed while we ride away together into the Wyoming sunset.

If you asked me ten years ago if this was the life I thoughtI wanted, my answer might have been no, but if you asked me today I would sayI’m right where I’m supposed to be. Mylife isn’t perfect, the challenges are still there, and I still have a lot tolearn about myself. But no matter whatthe future holds for me, I know one thing for sure: I’ll never stop writing.

*******

This is one storyfrom Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories,buy your copy today.

*******

Cheryl’s book’s on Amazon:

Black Diamond Death (Sloane MonroeSeries—Book One)

Sinnerman (Sloane Monroe Series—Book Two)

Whispers of Murder (A Novella)

To learn moreabout Cheryl, visit her here:

Valentine's Day Fun

2012-02-10T11:58:00.001-05:00

So Valentine's Day is fast approaching and I'm always looking for lively ways to stir up a little mayhem. (I'm married to a logical scientist who doesn't understand the whole 'let's celebrate love' thing, so I'm forced to make my own fun. I ♥ him dearly, but...come on!)

I went hunting for some quirky gifts to give and found these great items:

This Strawberry Lip Lollypop will put a little smile on your man's face.

And who wouldn't love this little guy? I couldn't resist that little heart-shaped nose of his. So cuddly!

Now this is one check anyone would like to receive!
I wouldn't mind keeping this account 'balanced'! How fun is this?

How about sayin' I love you on his toast?

And just for the heck of it: A gift that needs no explanation. If this doesn't get a smile outta him, nothing will.

And, finally, a gift for women to give their single girlfriends. Yes, they need to celebrate Valentine's Day too! A reversible hand puppet that she can change from prince to frog and back again, depending on her mood.

I can't wait to celebrate Love Day! How about you? I'd love to hear what mischief and naughty mayhem you have planned! Leave a comment below and...

Have a very happy Valentine's Day!

Return of the Runaway Bride #7 on Top 100 Free List

2012-02-09T16:13:00.000-05:00

I pronounce this Free Campaign a SUCCESS!

For the past two days I've offered my book FREE in Amazon's Kindle Store. Nearly 16,000 copies of the book have been downloaded and the book has been sitting at the #7 spot on the Kindle Top 100 Free Books List since early this morning. I want to thank all the readers and authors and bloggers who have helped me get the word out about this free offer. I'd especially like to thank Greg at eReader News Today for posting my free giveaway in his newsletter and on the ENT FaceBook page. (If you own an e-reader and you don't follow this site, shame on you. You're missing some wonderful deals!)

The Free Campaign will run until midnight tonight so if you haven't downloaded your copy, go do it now. Yes! Right now! If you don't have a Kindle, but still want to read the book, no worries. Download a Kindle app for your PC, Mac, iPhone, iPod, Android, or Blackberry here. The apps are free! (I just love that word!)

Return of the Runaway Bride FREE Feb 8th and 9th

2012-02-07T18:18:00.001-05:00

Get it while it's FREE!

For two days - Wednesday and Thursday - February 8th and 9th, the Kindle edition of my book will be available for FREE! I feel like celebrating Valentine's Day early, and what better way to commemorate that cute and cuddly Cupid than by giving away copies of my romance novel?

Please tell ALL of your Kindle-owning friends!

Download from the US Kindle Store.

Download from the UK Kindle Store.

I wish all of you a Valentine's Day filled with love and romance. And if anyone sees my husband, please tell him I'd like a box of gooey, chewy, chocolaty turtles. Thanks!

Writing From a Flour Sack

2012-02-06T08:58:00.000-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick, Dani Amore, who shares her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. Take it away, Dani!

WRITING FROM A FLOUR SACK

Dani Amore

Fact: I was born ona bathroom floor. Literally. My arrival into this world wasfollowed seconds later by an unceremonious drop onto the cold tile of St. John’s Hospital in Detroit, Michigan.

You see, I was the fifth out of six children. My mother knew my delivery would be fast, butthe nurse at the hospital insisted she go to the bathroom before the doctorarrived.

Later, after the drama and I was pronounced healthy, mymother told the doctor that the nurse should have listened to her, that she hadwarned the nurse that the baby (me) was going to arrive any second. That, having already delivered four children,she knew her body pretty well.

The doctor said, “Five kids, huh? Maybe you should tell your husband to keep itin his pants.”

True story.

***

Both of my parents were born in Italy. They emigrated to the U.S.in the 1950s. My father always said thebiggest difference between Italyand America atthat time was that you could work your ass off in Italyand have nothing to show for it. If youworked hard in America,you could eventually become wealthy. Hestarted a construction company and worked 6 days a week, from dawn todusk. Eventually, he was successful.

My mother raised six children.

She is a strong woman.

Both she and my father share a love of aphorisms.

The one I remember most? “A well-made flour sack stands on its own.”

It was almost like a mantra with her.

At a key point in my writing life, that phrase came in handy.

***

So there I am. I’vegot a full-time job in advertising. I’mwriting about products that suck, working for people I can’t stand, and withtwo good friends, drinking every night after work. At a little bar not far from the office. I’m averaging about five or six drinks anight. Every weeknight. More on the weekends.

But on those weekend mornings, I’m writing fiction. Just short stories that I try to picture inThe Paris Review.

Everything gets rejected with remarkable efficiency.

One night, probably half in the bag, I come across THE DAYOF THE JACKAL on television. Theoriginal movie is pretty campy and the remake with Bruce Willis is a pure loadof crap. But the book. The novel by Frederick Forsyth is one of myall-time favorites.

The scene on television is the best part of the movie: It’s where the Jackal is sighting in hisrifle. He paints a little face on asmall melon, then blows it apart from 500 yards away.

There’s no epiphany. I go to bed. But as I toss andturn, vodka fumes in a cloud around my pillow, I think about the narrativestructure of the story. I’ve read thebook several times. Even have acollector’s edition. The chase. The tension. The violence.

When I wake up the next morning, I make an especially strongpot of coffee. I push aside my shortliterary fiction, and start a new story.

It’s about a hitman and a female escort.

Later that day, during some interminable meeting whereeveryone is throwing out insidious phrases like “let’s get on the same page,”and “think outside the box,” I realized what I was doing.

I was writing to please others, instead of focusing on thekind of stories and books I like.

Crime fiction. Thrillers. Suspense.

I had forgotten one of my mother’s cardinal rules.

A well-made flour sack stands on its own.

***

I know it sounds melodramatic. But the truth is, everything changed afterthat night. I still despised theadvertising industry, but I no longer let it bother me so much. I begged off going to the bar with myfriends, instead choosing to work out and then get some writing done in theevenings.

Eventually, I finished several crime novels. Even landed a big New York literary agent.

But a funny thing happened. My agent, and publishers, seemed to have endless debates about how tomarket me. Should I be a hardboiledcrime novelist? A thriller writer? A traditional mystery author?

There were suggestions to change this book and change thatone. Then change it back. Then change it to something else.

But now I had learned. I was smarter.

I told them thanks, but no thanks.

It was time to stand up and be the writer I wanted to be.

So I became an indie author.

And when my first book became a Top 10 Mystery on Amazon, Iknew I had made the right decision.

Never underestimate the power of an Italian mother armedwith an aphorism.

Dani’s Books on Amazon:

To learn more about Dani, visit her at http://www.daniamore.com

I was mentioned on Squidoo!

2012-02-02T12:03:00.001-05:00

See my Squidoo mention by clicking here!

Looking for information on the Valentine Blog Hop? Scroll down one posting!

Valentine Blog Hop, Feb 1-14

2012-01-31T13:00:00.000-05:00

I'm joining in the fun of the Valentine Blog Hop! You should too!

What's the Valentine Blog Hop? It's a series of contests, hosted by Book Lovin' Babes, that spans 25 author blogs. You become the 'blog hopper' and enter as many of the contests as you wish. Each of the 25 authors will offer prizes for you to win. Each winner will earn a chance to win the Grand Prize and the Second Place Prize.

What's the Grand Prize? An Amazon gift card worth $75.

What's the Second Prize? A beautiful Sterling Silver Black and White Diamond Heart Pendant.

What's the prize being offered by me here at Author Donna Fasano In All Directions? Well, I'm offering two prizes, and one lucky reader will win both:

An Amazon Gift Card Worth $10

And

These Cute Sterling Silver Frog Earrings

(what better prize for a 'hop'?)

How do you enter, you ask? There are three ways to enter:

1. Send your e-mail address to me at donnafaz @ comcast (dot) net with Valentine Blog Hop in the subject header.

2. Follow this blog. If you already follow, you're already entered.

3. 'Like' my Facebook page: Donna Fasano, Author. If you've already 'liked' the page, you're already entered.

Just to be clear, you can enter this contest three times. If you send me your address, your name is entered once. If you send me your address AND follow this blog, your name is entered twice. If you send me your address AND follow this blog AND 'like' my Facebook page, your name is entered three times. (Go for three! Go for three!)

So enter my contest and then hop along to the Book Lovin Babes blog to find a list of all the other authors who are participating. Good luck, and happy hoppin'!

A Kinky Adventure in Anglophilia

2012-01-30T09:58:00.000-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick, Anne Allen, who shares her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. Take it away, Anne!

A KINKY ADVENTURE IN ANGLOPHILIA

By Anne R. Allen

When I started writing funny women’s fiction fifteen yearsago, if anybody had given me a realistic idea of my chances for publication,I’d have chosen a less stressful hobby, like do-it-yourself brain surgery,professional frog herding, or maybe staging an all-Ayatollah drag revue indowntown Tehran.

As a Californiaactress with years of experience of cattle-drive auditions, greenroom cat-fightsand vitriolic reviewers, I thought I had built up enough soul-calluses to gothe distance. But nothing had prepared me for the glacial waiting periods; thebogus, indifferent and/or suddenly-out-of-business agents; and theheartbreaking, close-but-no-cigar reads from big-time editors—all the rejectionhorrors that make the American publishing industry the impenetrable fortress ithas become.

But some of us are too writing-crazed to stop ourselves. Iwas then, as now, sick in love with the English language.

I had three novels completed. A fourth had run as a serialin a California entertainmentweekly. One of my stories had been short-listed for an international prize, anda play had been produced to good reviews. I was bringing in a few bucks—mostlywith short pieces for local magazines and freelance editing.

But meantime, my savings had evaporated along with myabandoned acting career; my boyfriend had ridden his Harley into the Big Sur sunset; my agent was hammering me to write formula romance;and I was contemplating a move to one of the less fashionable neighborhoods ofthe rust belt.

Even acceptances turned into rejections: a UKzine that had accepted one of my stories folded. But when the editor sent thebad news, he mentioned he’d taken a job with a small UKbook publisher—and did I have any novels?

I sent him one my agent had rejected as “too over the top.”Within weeks, I was offered a contract by my new editor—a former BBC comedywriter—for FOOD OF LOVE. Included was an invitationto come over the pond to do some promotion.

So I rented out my beach house, packed my bags and bought a ticket toGainsborough, Lincolnshire, where my new publishers had recently moved into a19th century former textile mill on the banks of the river Trent—the riverGeorge Eliot fictionalized as “the Floss.”

George Eliot. I was going to be working and living only a few hundredyards from the ruins of the house where she wrote her classic novel about the19th century folk who lived and died by the power of Lincolnshire’s great tidal river. Maybe some of that greatnesswould rub off on me.

At the age of… well, I’m not telling…I was about to have the adventureof my life.

I knew the company published mostly erotica, but wasbranching into mainstream and literary fiction. They had already published thefirst novel of a distinguished poet, and a famous Chicagonewspaper columnist was in residence, awaiting the launch of his new book.

But when I arrived, I found the great Chicagoan had left ina mysterious fit of pique, the “erotica” was seriously hard core kink, and theold building on the Trent was moreof the William Blake Dark Satanic variety than George Elliot’s bucolic “Mill onthe Floss.”

Some of my fears subsided when Iwas greeted by a friendly group of unwashed, fiercely intellectual young menwho presented me with generous quantities of warm beer, cold meat pies andgalleys to proof. After a beer or two, I found myself almost comprehendingtheir northern accents.

I held it together until I saw my new digs: a grimy futon and an old metaldesk, hidden behind stacks of book pallets in the corner of an unheatedwarehouse, about a half a block from the nearest loo. My only modernconvenience was an ancient radio abandoned by a long-ago factory girl.

I have to admit to admit to some tears of despair.

Until, from the radio, Big Benchimed six o’clock.

That’s six pm, GMT.

Greenwich Mean Time. The words hit me with all the sonorous power of Big Benitself. I had arrived at the mean, the middle, the center that still holds—nomatter what rough beasts might slouch through the cultural deserts of theformer empire. This was where my language, my instrument, was born.

I clutched my galley-proof to my heart. I might still be a rejected nobody inthe land of my birth—but I’d landed on the home planet: England. And there, I was a published novelist. Just like GeorgeEliot.

Three years later, I returned toCalifornia, older, fatter (the English may not have the best food,but their BEER is another story) and a lot wiser. That Chicagoan’s fit of piqueturned out to be more than justified. The company was swamped in debt. Theynever managed to get me US distribution. Shortly before my second book THE BESTREVENGE was to launch, the managing partner withdrew his capital, sailed awayand mysteriously disappeared off his yacht—his body never found. The companysputtered and died.

And I was back in the slush pileagain.

But I had a great plot for mynext novel.

Unfortunately, nobody wanted it.I was now tainted with the “published-to-low-sales-numbers label and my chanceswere even worse than before.

So I wrote two more novels.Nobody wanted them either.

Then I started a blog. I figuredI could at least let other writers benefit from my mistakes. My blog followersgrew. And grew. The blog won some awards. My Alexa and Klout ratings got betterand better. Finally, publishers started approaching ME. (There’s a moral forwriters here—social networking works.)

And finally, six years later,another publisher, Popcorn Press, fell in love with FOOD OF LOVE and sent me acontract. Soon after, they contracted to publish THE BEST REVENGE, too.

And this September, a brand newindie ebook publisher called Mark Williams International Digital Publishingasked if I had anything else ready to publish.

Just happen to have a fewunpubbed titles handy, said I.

He liked them.

So in October and November of2011, those three new comic mysteries will appear as ebooks: THE GATSBY GAME,GHOSTWRITERS IN THE SKY, and SHERWOOD, LTD (that’s the novel inspired by myEnglish adventures.) Popcorn Press will publish paper versions in 2012. THEBEST REVENGE debuted as an ebook in December, with the paper book to follow inFebruary.

A fifteen-year journey finallyseems to be paying off.

Did I make some mistakes? Ohyeah—a full set of them. But would I wish away my English adventures?

Not a chance.

*******

Links:

Blog http://annerallen.blogspot.com

Twitter @annerallen

Authorpages: At Amazon.com , at amazon.co.uk, on Facebook

SHERWOOD, LTD

(Romantic comedy/mystery: MWiDP) A penniless socialitebecomes a 21^st century Maid Marian, but is “Robin” planning to killher? Buy at amazon.co.uk, amazon.com,or Barnesand Noble

THE BEST REVENGE

(Romantic comedy/mystery: Popcorn Press) A suddenly-broke1980s celebutante runs off to Californiawith nothing but her Delorean and her designer furs, looking for her long-lostgay best friend—and finds herself accused of murder. Buy at amazon.co.ukor amazon.comand inpaper at Popcorn Press or inpaper at Amazon.com .

Love To Read?

2012-01-25T14:00:00.003-05:00

I have been an avid reader all my life, and I have professed in many author interviews that my love of reading is what led me to become a writer. I know there are many readers who are HUNGRY for books, so here are some suggestions for you to devour. (I have linked all of these books to Amazon's Kindle Store, although I know some of them can also be found for Nook, Kobo, Sony, and other ereading devices.)

Mel Comley writes crime thrillers and romance. Look for Cruel Justice (this book has nine 5-star reviews) and A Time to Heal (also highly rated).

I would recommend A Hint of Murder, an anthology, from Lia Fairchild. And also her romantic drama, In Search of Lucy.

The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland by Barbara Silkstone kept me turning the pages.

I'm excited about Catrina Taylor's new release, Xarrok, a scifi romance.

The cover of Bet You Can't...FIND ME so intrigued me that I just had to download a copy of this suspense novel by Linda Prather.

I'd say there's something here for everyone: mystery and suspense, scifi and paranormal, chick lit and romance. Yum! Happy Reading.

Turning Medieval

2012-01-23T19:25:00.003-05:00

Today I welcome fellow Indie Chick Sarah Woodbury to my blog. She's sharing her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. Take it away, Sarah!

Turning Medieval

by Sarah Woodbury

Sometimes it’s easy to pinpoint those moments in your lifewhere everything is suddenly changed. When you look across the room and say to yourself, I’m going to marry him. Or stare down at those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, whenyou’re only twenty-two and been married for a month and a half and are livingon only $800 a month because you’re both still in school and my God how is this going to work?

And sometimes it’s a bit harder to remember.

UntilI was eleven, my parents tell me they thought I was going to be a ‘hippy’. I wandered through the trees, swamp, andfields of our 2 ½ acre lot, making up poetry and songs and singing them tomyself. I’m not sure what happened bythe time I’d turned twelve, whether family pressures or the realities of schoolchanged me, but it was like I put all that creativity and whimsicalness into abox on a high shelf in my mind. By thetime I was in my late-teens, I routinely told people: ‘I haven’t a creativebone in my body.’ It makes me sad tothink of all those years where I thought the creative side of me didn’texist.

WhenI was in my twenties and a full-time mother of two, my husband and I took ourfamily to a picnic with his graduate school department. I was pleased at how friendly and acceptingeveryone seemed.

Andthen one of the other graduate students turned to me out of the blue and said,‘do you really think you can jump back into a job after staying home with yourkids for five or ten years?’

Iremember staring at him, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it, butthat it didn’t matter—it couldn’t matter—because I had this job to do and the consequences of staying home with my kidswere something I’d just have to face when the time came.

Fastforward ten years and it was clear that this friend had been right in hisincredulity. I was earning $15/hr. as acontract anthropologist, trying to supplement our income while at the same timeholding down the fort at home. Iremember the day it became clear that this wasn’t working. I was simultaneously folding laundry, cookingdinner, and slogging through a report I didn’t want to write, trying to get itall in before the baby (number four, by now) woke up. I put my head down, right there on the dryer,and cried.

Itwas time to seek another path. Time tofollow my heart and do what I’d wanted to do for a long time, but hadn’t hadthe courage, or the belief in myself to make it happen.

Atthe age of thirty-seven, I started my first novel, just to see if I could. I wrote it in six weeks and it was bad in away that all first books are bad. It wasabout elves and magic stones and will never see the light of day. But it taught me, I can do this!

Myhusband told me, ‘give it five years,’ and in the five years that followed, Iexperienced rejection along my newfound path. A lot of it. Over seventy agents,and then dozens and dozens of editors (once I found an agent), read my booksand passed them over. Again and again.

Meanwhile,I just wrote. A whole series. Then more books, for a total of eight, sevenof which I published in 2011.

AndI’m happy to report that, even though I still think of myself as staid, myextended family apparently has already decided that those years where I showedlittle creativity were just a phase. Theother day, my husband told me of several conversations he had, either with themor overheard, in which it became clear they thought I was so alternative and creative—so far offthe map—that I didn’t even remember there wasa map.

I’m almost more pleased about that than anything else. Almost. Through writing, I’ve found a community ofother writers, support and friendship from people I hadn’t known existed a fewyears ago, and best of all, thousands of readers have found my books in thelast year. Here’s to thousands more inthe years to come . . .

Links:

My web page: http://www.sarahwoodbury.com/

My Twitter code is: http://twitter.com/#!/SarahWoodbury

On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sarahwoodburybooks

Links to my books: Amazon and Amazon UK
Smashwords BarnesandNoble Apple

Two Reviews to Share

2012-01-22T12:41:00.002-05:00

Readers who share their kind thoughts about my books in reviews really make me happy. Here are two such reviews that were recently posted on Amazon for His Wife for a While:

Krazy Kindle Lady said, "I read this book in one sitting!! It brought tears to my eyes. Thought it was a great book!! It was an easy read!! I will definitely be downloading her other books to read!!"

LeenBee said, "I loved this book. What a sweet, touching romance that made me deeply invested in the characters. She kept the conflict going right to the end. I love the way Chelsea found true love for her desperately empty soul and how Ben was willing to risk so much to show how much he loved her. Very well written and a perfect read!"

I want to thank Krazy Kindle Lady and LeenBee for taking the time to tell others that they enjoyed my book. I am deeply grateful!

You can find His Wife for a While at Amazon's US Kindle Store and also the UK Kindle Store.

2012-01-20T17:44:00.000-05:00

Woo-hoo! I love to see my books on the Kindle Movers & Shakers List.

18,700!

2012-01-20T07:39:00.001-05:00

That's how many FREE copies of His Wife for a While were downloaded during yesterday's FREE Kindle Book promotion. I am overwhelmed by that number. It makes me happy to think that all of those people will be reading my book! *smile*

Check back here often for more free promotions! Better yet, type your e-mail address in the box to the right marked 'follow this blog by email' so you don't miss anything!

His Wife for a While FREE Jan. 19th

2012-01-18T07:22:00.003-05:00

Amazon will be offering the Kindle version of His Wife for a While FREE for 24 hrs this Thursday, January 19, 2012. Mark your calendars so you don't miss this giveaway!

Let's say it together, people...FREE!

Links:
In the US: http://amzn.to/wi6NWr

In the UK: http://amzn.to/yFnk0w

Holes

2012-01-16T15:38:00.001-05:00

Today I welcome fellow Indie Chick Suzanne Tyrpak to my website. Take it away, Suzanne!

Sometimes life changes in a day. I work for an airline, and this past summer a gigantic jet-stair ran over my toes. That got my attention. I’d been asking for a break, and boy did I get one! My story has a happy ending: the accident gave me time to finish my recently released novel, Hetaera—Suspense in Ancient Athens. It also gave me time to connect with the Indie Chicks; what a fantastic group of women! We wrote an anthology together and all the proceeds go to fighting breast cancer—the disease that took my mother. I hope you enjoy, Holes, my contribution to the Indie Chicks Anthology. Sometimes discovering our holes, our weakness, allows us to become more compassionate and ultimately more whole.

Holes

I used to think I had to be perfect. Of course, I fell shortof perfection on a regular basis so I frequently felt like a failure.

The only way to prevent failure is to hide. If we don’t put ourselvesout there, we can’t fail.

To prevent myself from failing, I hid in a fantasy world. Asa young child, I longed to be a ballerina. I loved to dance, but more thanthat, I wanted to escape into the fantasy world of the ballet. I wanted to live inside a fairytale, and in my mind,I did. I invented worlds I could escape to, perfect worlds that seemed morereal to me than life. Meanwhile, I ate, and ate, and ate. Not ideal, if you wantto be a ballerina. My reality never matched my inner world.

I created this pattern, this external and internaldisparity, throughout my life. I brought it into my marriage, convincing myselfthat my marriage was perfect, while in reality it was a mess. Instead ofleaving, I found escape in writing. I lost myself other times: ancient Egypt,ancient Greece,ancient Rome—worlds as far awayfrom my reality as possible. In my writing, I disappeared for hours, days,years. I got a job working at an airline so I could travel and do research. Igot an agent. I felt sure I would be published.

Then my world fell apart. After nineteen years of marriage,my husband wanted a divorce. I fought it. Divorce didn’t fit my idea ofperfection, my fairytale. I viewed this loss as a disaster, but in truth it wasan opening, a hole leading me to greater understanding and compassion formyself and others.

I was broke, trying to live on what I made at the airline. Iwas lonely. I had no time to write. Worst of all, I had to admit my life wasn’tperfect. I wasn’t perfect. Forced to acceptmyself with all my imperfections, I discovered that the more I could acceptmyself, the more I could accept others. Even my ex-husband. To this day, weremain friends.

Because I no longer had time to sit down and write forhours, the kind of time it takes to write a novel, I wrote short stories. I wroteabout my experience, about my struggles as a woman of fifty going throughdivorce and entering the dating world. Initially, I wrote the stories formyself as therapy. Then I began to share the stories with my writing group.They encouraged me to submit the stories to magazines, and several werepublished. I read a couple of stories at our local library and people laughed. Thenmy good friend, Blake Crouch, convinced me to publish the stories on Kindle. Afrightening prospect. What if my stories weren’t good enough? What if theyweren’t perfect?

At first I resisted. I’d had two literary agents, and alongtime dream of being traditionally published. Self-publishing didn’t fit myidea of perfection. But, in reality, I no longer had an agent, and I hadn’tworked on a novel for several years. What did I have to lose? Nothing. So Ipublished Dating My Vibrator (and othertrue fiction).

My world changed, not because I was finally published, butbecause I changed. I finally foundthe confidence to pursue my dream despite my imperfections. I found the courageto stop hiding and put myself out into the world. This freed me.

I rewrote my novel, VestalVirgin—suspense in ancient Rome.Originally, my characters were a bit flat. Why? Because they were too perfect!I hadn’t looked at the manuscript for two years, and a lot had changed for mein that time. I rewrote the book with a cold eye: cutting, digging deeper. Mycharacters became multifaceted, real people with flaws.

I became busier and busier, caught in a whirlwind, trying tohold down a full-time job, write, promote my books and have a life. Trying,once again, to be perfect.

And then the universe stepped in.

I had an accident at work. While moving a jet stair (whichweighed over 1,000 pounds) away from the aircraft, my right foot got crushed. Ifell, screaming, onto the tarmac while passengers onboard the plane watched. Acoworker rushed me to the hospital for the first of three emergency surgeries. Isuffered intense pain due to nerve damage, broken and dislocated toes and,ultimately, amputation of a toe. As I write this, I’m still recovering.

I spent five weeks at a nursing home, a good place for me (eventhough most of the patients were over eighty years old), because it would have beenclose to impossible for me to take care of myself at home. While there, Ihad a chance to meet a lot of the patients and residents. All of us had obviousholes.

I learned a lot from the other patients. And I was forced toface my own mortality. Aging offers us the gift of acceptance. In order to agegracefully, we must the release the idea of perfection. We learn there are somethings we can change, and some things we must accept. And, when we accept what is, we may find the good in even themost difficult situations. We learn to accept the holes in ourselves andothers. We even welcome imperfection.

Since the accident, I’ve been thinking about holes a lot. I'vebeen thinking about being whole, in relation to loss. How can loss make aperson whole? I’ve learned that loss can make a person strong, more self-reliant.Loss can make us more compassionate to ourselves and others.

Where I had a toe, there’s now a hole, and that hole remindsme that I’m not perfect. But, despite my imperfection, I am whole. I am me. Itwould be ridiculous to think that I am any less of a person, because I’mmissing a toe, because I have a hole. Just as it’s ridiculous for any of us tothink we must be perfect.

Physical wounds can’t be hidden as easily as emotional andpsychological wounds. And that’s a gift. Physical wounds make us confront ourmortality, our humanity. Physical wounds can’t be denied. They are tangible andforce us to accept ourselves, with all our imperfections.

It's impossible to get through life without being wounded.Some wounds are obvious. Others are internal, even spiritual: the loss of theability to trust, to connect deeply, to hold a friend and know that you areloved.

We run away from wounds. Try not to look at them. We think they're signs ofweakness, but our wounds—the holes in us—provide a doorway, a soft spot in ourarmor. We walk around armored, protecting ourselves with platitudes and false smiles,never touching our own vulnerabilities, afraid to share our tender rawness withanother or even with ourselves.

If we can touch the tender spots, allow ourselves to feel fear, sorrow, loss,we become closer to wholeness. The more we accept our holes, the morecompassion we can have for others. When we feel compassion we are able toconnect. We are able to expose our soft underbelly to another human being andshare the salt of our tears, the sweetness of our joy. That’s what I want towrite about, that’s what I want to share, because salt makes all the differencebetween a bland, protected life, and a true life: pulsing, bloody, messy,passionate and truly whole.

Flaws, or holes, are what make a character seem real—in lifeand in fiction. Perfection is impermanent, an illusion. A person who seems tooperfect is repulsive. We don’t trust him. We know that person can’t be real. Holesspeak of truth. Holes allow us to connect, to ourselves and to each other. Ourholes make us human, make us beautiful. Holes allow the light to shine through.

If someone had asked me last spring, “Would you give up atoe in order to learn, in order to have time to write your next novel?” I mighthave said, “Yes.”

Funny, how life works.

~ ~ ~

Suzanne's blog: Who's Imagining All This?

Suzanne Tyrpak on Facebook

Twitter: @SuzanneTyrpak

Vestal Virgin—Suspense in Ancient Rome

Currently available on Amazon Amazon UK

Hetaera—Suspense in Ancient Athens

Currently available on Amazon Amazon UK

Thriller Author M.P. McDonald

2012-01-13T20:44:00.000-05:00

I'd like to introduce my friends to M.P. McDonald, author of No Good Deed and March Into Hell. I read No Good Deed and loved the book! It currently has 72 five-star reviews on Amazon, and 26 four-star reviews. That's amazing! People love this book. And the sequel, March Into Hell is wonderful too. I highly recommend M.P. McDonald's Mark Taylor series and I am eagerly awaiting book 3. Visit M.P. McDonald's blog by clicking here.

Buy No Good Deed at the US Amazon Kindle Store or the UK Amazon Kindle Store.

Buy March Into Hell at the US Amazon Kindle Store or the UK Amazon Kindle Store.

Named Best Romance Novel on Kindle

2012-01-11T14:35:00.000-05:00

Okay, so maybe An Accident Family isn't THE best, but it has been named one of 5 of the Best Romance Novels on Kindle by romance reader Cashmere. I am so fortunate that there are readers out there willing to blog about the books they love.

I have told readers many times that word of mouth is the best advertising an author could ever hope for. Have you read a good book lately? Tell your friends about it! An author will thank you.

Thank you, Cashmere!

5-star Review from Amy's Book World

2012-01-10T21:53:00.001-05:00

I happened to search His Wife for a While on Google today and discovered a review of my book on a blog called Amy's Book World. She had written the review on Dec. 29, 2011 (my youngest son's birthday) and she had some very nice things to say:

"I love the author's writing. It flows very well and you are able to easily keep up with the story. I loved reading this story. I couldn't put it down. I truly loved this book. It is a great love story that shows even if you have a terrible past, it doesn't have to define you. You can grow and move forward from it. I have no negative things to say about this book. Well written and a joy to read. Great book"

Amy and her review made me very happy. So...thanks, Amy!

Mrs. So-Got-It-Wrong Agent

2012-01-09T20:00:00.001-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Prue Batten to my blog. This is her story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories.

Mrs.So-Got-It-Wrong Agent

by Prue Batten

After writing forever, I decided to finallygo down the independent road in 2008. At that time, it was calledself-publishing and the track I decided to take was POD. Part of my reason forthe move was that my books had been declared commercially viable by the UKliterary consultancy that assessed them, but in every instance they weredeclined by the Big Six.

The only time I had any sort of meaningfulcomment prior to POD publication was from a highly regarded English agent who saidshe loved the novels and knew she would kick herself for declining but felt Ilived too far away to engage with. I know I reside in the southern hemisphere,in a place called Australia, but this is a new world in which we exist. Amazingly there is a thingcalled email, something else called Skype and even video-conferencing, so I wasrather gobsmacked at her antiquated approach. This, I felt, was the time totake my destiny in my own hands!

You see, I was getting older and with agecomes a degree of intransigence and that was when I took up the POD offer…basically in a fit of disgust at the ‘old ways’.

I did everything right: good covers, greatPR, super website and then a blog with which to engage with the reading public,even radio and print media interviews… you name it, I did it. Book Two came outand I continued to sell to a niche market online and in stores. At one point,my first novel took the prime display position in bricks and mortar stores,selling more than any other unknown first release for that chain.

Then, whilst working on A Thousand GlassFlowers, I had the misguided idea that it would be nice to secure an agent whocould handle all this PR and marketing stuff and maybe help me push the barrowfurther. With the success of the first two novels under my belt, with stats ofweb and blog hits as well, I contacted the first Australian agent on my list.

Imagine my surprise when two days later, ona Friday afternoon, she rang me to talk business.

Her first comment after a loud monologue onher credentials was ‘Why in the hell did you POD your first two books?’ Ironic snicker followed this acid question.

‘Because I was tired of submitting the oldway and getting nowhere in a very long time.

‘But you’ve signed your own death warrant.’

‘Then why are you talking to me?’

‘I am intrigued that you managed to get theweb hits and the book-sales you have.’Her tone was sarcasm incarnate. Something about good books and hard work was onthe tip of my tongue.

I was so flummoxed at this point that Iallowed her to ram-raid me and roast me. Heaven help me, I agreed to send hermss of the first two novels (even though they had been published!) Perhaps I am a masochist. Who knows?

She read them and sent them back slashed topieces. These were fantasy novels about love, loss, grief and revenge, novelsthat have secured 5 star reviews. She had deleted every conceivable piece ofemotion from the manuscripts so that they expressed nothing. If she read themright through, I’d have been surprised as she asked elementary questions aboutthe plot resolution… questions that were answered in the denouement of each ofthe novels. Her editing was unbelievable, her spelling appalling and she got myname and address wrong for the return of the mss. Now remember… this is supposedlyone of the top agents in my country,top obviously not equating with manners and sensibility.

When I rang her to say politely, thanks butno thanks, she lambasted me and said, ‘You are a self-fulfilling prophecy.Small-time.’

My reply was that if she had taken me on, what a good talking point she would have hadabout her exciting new author. As it was, I continued, I was declining anyfurther involvement with her as my books were out there and selling.

‘You have committed professional suicide.’

***

In the last three years, this agent is theonly negative in my writing career and far from depressing me, it proved to bethe biggest shot of tenacity in the arm! Reverse psychology at its very best!

So guess what, Mrs. So Got it Wrong Agent,I’m having a ball. The books are now in e-form and selling well. My third novelconsistently took a place in the Top 100 of Kindle novels in its category notlong after publication. I’ve sold across the globe, I have a niche following,I’ve made the friends of a lifetime and I am master of my own destiny. Thereare two further books to be published in TheChronicles of Eirie and in a step sideways, my first ever historicalfiction will be published in February.

And at this point in my life, I don’tregret not having an agent one bit!

***

Addendum: Whilst writing this piece for the anthology, I nursed my littlemuse, the dog who would jump up behind me on my chair and sit whilst I typed.He had terminal cancer and in the intervening time between publication of theanthology and the posting of my piece on these blogs, he has gone quietly tohis rest… a brave, funny companion who was my inspiration. I dedicate the abovetale to him… to Milo.

Website: http://www.pruebatten.com

Blog: http://www.mesmered.wordpress.com

Facebook: Prue Batten

Twitter: Prue Batten

Books may be purchased at: Amazon.co.uk http://amzn.to/v2mosZ

And at Amazon.com http://amzn.to/rHBVoy

Return of the Runaway Bride, Kindle Best-seller!

2012-01-06T13:34:00.001-05:00

From Amazon Kindle's Top 100 List of best-selling ebooks:

Kindle Movers & Shakers List #1!

2012-01-05T22:01:00.000-05:00

I had to take a screen shot of this as it may never happen again and I wanted proof that my book, Return of the Runaway Bride, actually made it to #1. *beaming smile*

Return of the Runaway Bride FREE

2012-01-03T08:44:00.000-05:00

Amazon is offering FREE Kindle versions of my book, Return of the Runaway Bride. The sale is continuing until midnight, Jan 4th. Get your copy now while the getting is good!

Amazon US Kindle Store

Amazon UK Kindle Store

Check back soon for other great giveaways. Better yet, follow my blog by inputting your e-mail address in the box located in the right hand column, or send your e-mail to me at DonnaFaz (at) Comcast (dot) net and I'll keep you alerted to any new freebies. Happy reading!

I Burned My Bra For This? One Woman's Fantasy

2012-01-01T19:45:00.002-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Cheryl Shireman to my blog. Take it away, Cheryl!

~ ~ ~

I Burned My Bra For This? One Woman's Fantasy

By Cheryl Shireman

I’m a Baby Boomer. Which means that I rememberbell-bottoms, Happy Days, and having only three channels on the television. Iplayed Donny Osmond albums on a record player. My parents watched Gunsmoke, andon Sunday nights we all watched The Wonderful World of Disney. In the livingroom. Together. On the only television we owned. Imagine that! I remember thefirst time I saw Bonanza in color. I remember the first time I heard aboutremote controls for televisions. The whole idea seemed ridiculous. With threechannels, really, how often would it be needed? I remember the Watergatehearings playing on the television when I came home from school.

I also remember watching feminists (does anyone usethat word anymore?) burn their bras and march for equal rights. I grew upbelieving that a woman deserves equal pay for equal work and that a woman isnot defined by the man she marries or by the children she gives birth to. Infact, we were told that both men and children were optional. The idea seemedrevolutionary at the time. It still does. Women were mad as hell and they weren’ttaking it anymore. We called it Women’s Liberation, and though it was neversaid, it was certainly implied (and believed in most circles) that a woman whodid not work was a bit inferior to a career woman. That was when such womenwere called housewives and not “stay at home” moms. Women were divided into twogroups – those who worked and those who didn’t. Back then, no one thought thatstaying home and taking care of a family and home was work. The women of mygeneration wanted more, demanded more, and believed we were entitled to justthat – more. We sometimes looked at our own mothers, most of whom did not have real jobs, as women who simply did notunderstand that there was more to life than being a mother. If truth be told,we thought they were a bit simple-minded and we secretly vowed to do more withour lives.

And yet…as this Baby Boomer looks at her life, Irealize nothing I have ever done, or will ever do, is as important as being amother. Not career, volunteer work, graduate school, or any creative pursuit.Nothing else even comes close to being a mother. Period.

One of my children lives half an hour away, anotheris one state away, and the third is on the other side of the world in Denmark.Yesterday, my husband and I spent the entire day with our two-year-oldgranddaughter. She then spent the night. As I write this, I hear her gentlebreathing in the baby monitor positioned atop the table close to where I sit.

To say that my children, and now my granddaughter,have filled my life with love and joy is an understatement. As children, theyexpanded my heart in ways I could never have imagined. For the first time in mylife, I not only understood, but received unconditional love. As adults, theyare three people that I know I can always count on. They will always be therefor me. Just as I will always be there for them. Can you say the same aboutyour career?

There used to be a television show called FantasyIsland. People visited the island and lived out their fantasies – no matter howwild (okay, not that wild – this was primetime family tv in the seventies). Nottoo long ago, my husband and I had a discussion about that old tv show andasked each other – What would your fantasy be? Mine was easy. If I could have aFantasy Island day, I would relive one day with my children. My son would be10, which would make my daughters 4 and 2. We would spend the day doingwhatever they wanted. Going to the park, going to the movies, playing games,baking cookies, or just sitting on the floor playing with Legos and Barbies. Iwould hug them a lot. And kiss the tops of their heads. And take tons ofpictures. I wouldn’t cook. I wouldn’t clean. And I wouldn’t worry about mycareer.

I would watch my son show his younger sisters howto do things, like he always did in his older brother sort of way. I wouldwatch my 2 year-old daughter follow her older 4 year-old sister around theroom, shadowing her every move. Just as she did, even through their collegeyears when they shared an apartment near Indiana University. I would watch theolder sister taking care of her younger sister, as if she were her baby.Which is what she called her when she was born – my baby.

Bedtime would be later than usual on that fantasynight. I would tuck them into their beds, fresh from baths and smelling ofshampoo. The girls smelling like baby lotion. My son would hug me goodnightwith his long skinny arms and tell me he loves me. And I would feel the truthin that. I would tuck in my girls and tell them it is time to go to sleep. Iwould take extra care in covering the older girl’s feet, because she alwayskicked her blankets off during the night. I would kiss the baby and hold her alittle longer, because I would know that, as I type this she is in Denmarkwhich makes visiting tough.

And, as I walk down the hall and turn out thelights, I would call out to all of them, as I always did… “Goodnight. Love you.Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.”

And that would be my fantasy day. Oddly enough, ithas nothing to do with my career as a writer. Even though being a writer hasalways been my dream. My first novel, Life is But a Dream: On the Lake, waspublished earlier this year. The main character, Grace Adams, is a woman facingan empty nest and the possible demise of her marriage. Grace withdraws to asecluded lake cabin to redefine her life and try to find a reason to continueliving. While at the lake, Grace not only finds renewed purpose and hope, butwhen things take a turn for the worse at the lake, she finds a strength shenever knew she possessed. The novel is thought-provoking, sometimesfrightening, and often funny (just like life). It is also, very definitely,fiction.

I'm not Grace. Even though my “nest” is empty, I amenjoying this time and this new focus on my career. I am not suicidal orlacking in purpose. My husband and I both work from home (he designs websites),we live on a lake, and our schedule is our own. It is truly a wonderful time inour lives. Sometimes I have popcorn for dinner. Enough said.

But, would my current life be as wonderful if I hadnot pursued career and graduate school and developed the skills I am using now?Probably not. I managed to combine work and school and motherhood. I believed Icould have it all, and do it all, but to be honest – the kids always camefirst. And being a mother is the strongest and best part of my identity. It isthe thing I am most proud of. My greatest achievement. And, once in a while, Imiss those days when toys where scattered across the floor, the washer wasalways running, and we bought eight gallons of milk a week.

If you have children at home, cherish those simpleevery-day moments with them. They really will be gone in the blink of an eye –sooner than you can possibly imagine. Put this book down. Now. Go sit on thefloor and play a game. Pop some popcorn, put on one of their favorite movies,and cuddle up on the couch. Live that “fantasy” right now. You will never beable to recapture these moments. Enjoy them now. There is no greater gift thanthe love of your children. Spend the rest of your day letting it pour over you.And pour your love right back over them. You can come back to this booktonight, after they are asleep.

As I type this, I can hear my granddaughter wakingup. I am shutting my computer off. Right now, I am going to go upstairs andscoop her up from her crib. She will probably wrap her little arms around myneck and ask, “Play blocks, Bomb Bomb?”

And we will play blocks.

This is one story fromIndie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copytoday. All proceeds go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation for Breast Cancer.

Also included aresneak peeks into 25 novels! My novel, Life Is But a Dream: On The Lake,is one of the novel excerpts featured. It is available at most online retailersin trade paperback as well as e-book formats.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Book Giveaway! Want one?

2011-12-26T10:38:00.002-05:00

As an after Christmas special, I am giving away 10 Kindle copies of His Wife for a While. Think of it as a belated Christmas gift from me. To be eligible just leave a comment below and I'll gift Kindle copies of the book to the first 10 people who comment. The gift-giving will continue until 10 eager readers post and 10 books are gifted.

UPDATE: I already have 10 winners, so let's turn this 10-book-giveaway into a 20-book-giveaway! Comment below if you'd like a gift copy.

For all the news on my upcoming releases, please join my blog followers by putting your e-mail address in the box that can be found in the right hand column called 'follow by e-mail'. I promise I will never share your contact info with anyone. Thanks!

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On this joyous Christmas morn...

2011-12-25T08:24:00.000-05:00

My wish for you:

Happy Holidays

2011-12-24T18:02:00.000-05:00

The Merry-Go-Round Hits Top 100

2011-12-22T19:24:00.001-05:00

For five days - Dec 16-20 - The Merry-Go-Round was offered for free in Amazon's Kindle Store. Over 45,000 US readers and almost 6,000 UK readers downloaded the book, free of charge. Readers in Germany, France and Italy also downloaded a few copies. I've already received some nice reviews and reader feedback. I want to thank those who have left such wonderful reviews on Amazon. I feel this 'free giveaway' experiment has been a great success.

Today, the book inched it's way up the sales ranks until it hit the Kindle Top 100 List. As I write this post, The Merry-Go-Round is #77 in the Kindle Store. I am jumping for joy!

One Fictionista's Literary Bliss

2011-12-18T22:17:00.000-05:00

I welcome fellow Indie Chick Katherine Owen to my blog as she shares her inspiring personal story.

OneFictionista’s Literary Bliss

By: Katherine Owen

Iwas anointed a female fictionista by an overzealous Georgia Bulldog fan onTwitter. I immediately took it for my job description. So, here’s what you should know.I write. I write a lot. And, when I'm not writing,I think about writing a lot. You maythink we're having a conversation, but invariably I'm stealing your name,asking how to spell it, and secretly describing the look on your face in fivewords or less in my mind. My writing tends to be dark, moody, and sometimesfunny. Sometimes, it can be a bit lyrical or even literary. It’s often edgy, sobe forewarned. My readers complain theycan't put my books down. Or, just when they think they've figured the storyout, it changes and becomes something else. My stories tend to be dark and comprised ofbroken heroines; even the heroes in my books have a few flaws that causetrouble. It’s true; my characters may disappoint you or surprise you or pissyou off, but I think you’ll understand why they do what they do because of theway I write them. I strive to reveal the deepest underpinnings about life,about love, and about human nature, but it’s not for the faint of heart. I’lltake you through a proverbial emotional ringer before reaching resolution and it’snever as predictable as you might think. Do I sound like your kind offictionista? Come along, darling. This way.

Something else you should know about me is that I’m a hugeGeorge Clooney fan. Maybe, Up In The Air wasn’tone of his usual gigs, but I loved that movie. And, let’s be frank, I watched ER without him for years, but it wasnever the same. Never. Anyway, Idigress. There’s a scene in Up In The Airwhere he’s telling this guy to follow his dream after George has told him he’sbeen laid off. When I saw that scene, itwas as if George was practically speaking to me because I was there, two years ago, when I was laid off from a high techsales job, had always harbored a dream to write full-time, and went for itafter that. Is it a coincidence that UpIn The Air came out about the same time? I think not.

So now, this is what I do. Write. Write all the time. I’lladmit it was hard at first. It still is—hard, harrowing, humbling. Believe me,it would be easier to go out and get another high paying sales job than writefor a living because writing causes me to question my mental toughness so muchof the time. Can I do this? Am I goodenough?

Yet, here’s what I’ve learned: you just have to turn off thatvoice in your head off or ignore what is being said. Sometimes, all you need to do is stand up foryourself, stop depending upon the opinions of others, and just go after whatyou really want.

For me, that’s writing. For you, it might be anything else,but just pursue your passion whatever it is.

With this anthology, my debut novel, Seeing Julia is featured. SeeingJulia is a labor of love and represents a lot of hard work. Truly, thisbook has caused me as much grief as it has joy. After I first wrote this novel,I entered it into a literary contest and promptly forgot about it. I was busy. I was taking classes at The Writer’s Studio, becoming literarysavvy, and writing another novel called NotTo Us.

I remember it was a Monday morning in early June of 2010 whenI received a call from the president of the Pacific Northwest WritersAssociation telling me I was a finalist in the romance category with my entryof Seeing Julia. “What?” She asked me if I planned on attending the conference. “Well, I guess so.”Lucky for me, I attended the summer conference, bought a new outfit, and wonthe Zola Award and first place with SeeingJulia the night of the awards dinner. It was a surreal moment, when I hadto go up to the front of the room with those seven hundred people watching andaccept my award. But, truly? I was more concerned about navigating all thosetables and chairs on my way up to the podium than actually seizing the moment.As word spread about my writing award win, self-doubt had already set in. Itwas a fluke. It was dumb luck. As high as my emotions soared about winning;they fell just as fast when literary agents still rejected my work. Yes, thewin opened a number of literary agent doors for me, but I wrote severaldifferent versions of that novel when a number of them took greater interest,but then wanted to change everything about the story. One agent called me upand lectured me for forty-five minutes about the book and then promised to takea look if I made more changes. I sent her the revised manuscript, but she nevercalled again.

This was a year ago. I was at a crossroads with my writingand myself. I kept thinking if I did what they said and changed it, yet again, I would get to the nextstep—literary bliss. But I wasn’t getting anywhere.

Discouraged, but still determined, I reviewed what thecritiques and feedback about Seeing Juliahad been. Based on those, I sifted through what I thought would need to bechanged and began rewriting the story, workingday and night through most of November. With just getting a few hours of sleepeach night, I kept up the intense pace and by the time the novel was finished; I knew it was. I’m extremely proud of Seeing Julia. During the process ofrewriting it for the last time, I reached an important pinnacle with mywriting: I trusted myself. Confidence entered into the realm. And, along withit, swift understanding: I had to make myown literary bliss.

Two additional things became clear. First, it was essentialfor me to have complete control over the publishing of my work; and second, thepublishing industry was in the midst of a perfect storm because of e-books andI needed to take full advantage. And, so I did.

In late April and early May of this year, I released twonovels: Seeing Julia and Not To Us. These books are available ase-books as well as print trade paperbacks.

Many wonderful readers have responded to my work. They oftenreach out to me and let me know how they love my novels. I love and cherishtheir enthusiasm for my work.

This is literarybliss.

Of course, myfamily’s number one complaint is that I write too much and all the time. Now,add to that the twittering and the facebooking and the wordpressing and nowgoogle plus-ing, and checking Amazon, and taking writing classes; it's afull-time gig. But, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thegood news is that with the encouragement of my readers and confidence in mywriting, I’mworking on my third novel, When I SeeYou, and hope to release this book before the end of this year. And, I already have drafts for two othernovels, Saving Valentines and Finding Amy.

Oh yes,there are occasions, rare ones, when I'm not writing. That’s when I like todrink a fine wine, check in with my family, and look at my awesome view which Ican see when I look up long enough from my computer screen in my writingrefuge.

Andso, welcome. Welcome to my little piece of the universe.

I’ll leave you with this—a philosophy I now live by, borrowedfrom one of the greatest women tennis players of all time: “You’ve got to take the initiative and play your game. In a decisiveset, confidence is the difference.” ChrisEvert

Oh, Chrissy, you are soright!

***

This is one story from IndieChicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazonand Barnes& Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today. All proceedsgo to the Susan G. Komen Foundation for Breast Cancer.

Also included are sneakpeeks into 25 novels! My novel, SeeingJulia, is one of the novel excerpts featured. It is available at mostonline retailers in trade paperback as well as e-book formats.

Seeing Julia

Amazon

Amazon UK

Barnes and Noble

Apple/iTunes http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/seeing-julia/id446055623?mt=11

Smashwords (variouse-book formats for Sony e-book, Kobo, Apple iBooks and Diesel)

For more information about Katherine Owen, visitthese links:

Website: http://www.katherineowen.net

Blog: http://www.katherineclareowen.com

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Katherine-Owen/e/B004Z3BG3I/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

Follow her on Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/KatherineOwen01

Connect on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KatherineOwenauthor

I'm on Tumblr, here: http://katherineowen.tumblr.com/

Other books by Katherine Owen

Stepping into the Light

2011-12-10T13:47:00.001-05:00

As most of you know, I wrote for Harlequin Books for 20 years beforebecoming a proud Independent Author. I've written over 30 romance andwomen's fiction novels that have sold over 3.5 million copies worldwide. I'm proud to say mybooks have won awards and made best-seller lists. Below is the story Icontributed to the anthology IndieChicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Inspiring Stories. I hope readers will buy a copy of this book because all proceeds will be donated to the Susan G. Komen Foundation to forward the fight against breast cancer.

Stepping Into TheLight

I sit in the back row, shouldersrounded, knees jumping, my left thumb rubbing a raw spot in the center of myright palm. The sad and lonely sufferings being expressed in the dank,dimly-lit basement are all too real and much too close for comfort. I glance atthe door and contemplate escape, but it's too late. All eyes are upon me. Ihesitate only a moment before standing on quaking legs, clearing my throatsoftly and confessing, "My name is Donna. I'm a writer. And I need to comeout of the closet because it's dark in here."

Twenty years ago, had there been agroup called Writers Anonymous, I would have attended faithfully, pouring outmy heart at the weekly meetings. You see, for the couple of years that I spentwriting my first novel, I told almost no one what I was doing. My husband knew;in fact, he's the reason I even attempted what felt like the insurmountabletask of plotting out and finishing that first book. He's also the reason Iended up in this glorious, chaotic, roller-coaster life I've lived as an author;however, that's a story for another day. But when I first started scratchingwords on a yellow legal pad with a no. 2 pencil (there's nothing else thatstirs my creativity more than the feel of graphite gliding against paper), Ididn't tell a single family member or friend.

Why would I keep my dreams andaspirations such a tightly guarded secret?

I would hazard to guess the answeris the same reason anyone else hides things that could have life-alteringpotential: fear.

What if I failed? What if I had notalent? What if I didn't possess the perseverance to finish that firstmanuscript?

The mere thought of the snideremarks, tittering laughter and looks of skepticism and ridicule I might receivewere enough to keep me silent. My imagination has always been strong, and Ieasily saw the scenes play out in my head.

Soyou think you're going to write a book, huh?

Butyou didn't go to college.

Aromance novel? Really?

Ifyou're going to try to write, why not write a real book? You know, like amystery or a thriller; something someone is going to want to read.

My ability to conjure fantasy hasalways been a blessing and a bane. When reading a book or listening to someonetell a story or imagining repercussions of actions, visions will take shape inmy head. Situations feel real, characters become corporal, while my stirredemotions brim and often overflow. Needless to say, Hallmark commercials make mecry. While powerful creativity is a great and necessary trait for a writer whois intent on concocting a compelling tale, it can become crippling if thatwriter is too focused on the opinions of others.

However, I also have to confessthat keeping that first novel-writing dream all to myself charged me with avibrant energy. I was excited to get my story down on paper. Seeing my plotunfold was absolutely thrilling! Creating my characters was fun. And the factthat no one knew about my clandestine efforts gave me a huge amount of freedom.No one told me I was doing it all wrong; no one suggested I could never reachmy goal.

In defense of all the people I keptin the dark all those years ago, I have to admit that most of them were delightedand supportive when I finally divulged that my first manuscript had beenpurchased by a bona fide publisher. Oh, there was a scoffer or two, and Icontinue to meet them; you know the type, people who can't be happy for othersor who feel another's success somehow diminishes his or her own self-worth, butI've learned to deal with those people (working with New York City editors forces a writer to grow a thick skinpretty quickly). I merely smile and think about the slew of books I've sold andthe fan mail I've received from all over the world.

Those scoffers seem to have comeout of the woodwork now that I've reinvented myself as an Indie Author. Butventuring into this new arena couldn't have happened at a better point in mylife. I'm confident in my ability to tell a good story. I'm more than satisfiedwith the career I've had, and have no trouble imagining even more success inthe future. I saw tangible proof when two of my books made it onto Kindle's Top100 List. I'm happy with who I've become as a writer and as a person. If mywork receives less-than-flattering feedback from a reader, I might not like it,but I also realize it's not the end of the world; I've learned that I can'tplease all readers all the time. I love the creative freedom I have as anindependent author. I can allow my muse to take me wherever it will. I'm terrificallygrateful that there are readers out there who are willing to buy my novels.Every time I read a good review of one of my books I want to (and do!) kiss myhusband for suggesting I take a stab at this profession (it's a habit that's beenvery good for my marriage).

So… what's my point? Well, don'tlet the negative opinions of others keep you from dreaming, for one thing. Mostof the scary thoughts that run through your head will never happen, and the fewthat do materialize can be dealt with. You're stronger than you think. Don'tallow fear to paralyze you. Aspire to be and do whatever it is you want to beand do. Be kind to yourself; you deserve the same compassion and concern thatyou offer others. And most importantly, know that your dreams matter. Indulgethem. Reach for the stars! I did, and I'm still astounded that I snagged afew.

~ ~ ~

I love to hear from readers! Ways to connect with me:

My blog, AuthorDonna Fasano, In All Directions

On Facebook, Donna Fasano

On Twitter, DonnaFaz

A few of my available titles:

The Merry-Go-Round inpaperback or foryour Kindle.

His Wife for a While foryour Kindle.

An Accidental Family foryour Kindle, foryour Nook, or onSmashwords.

Look for other available titles on Amazon, Barnes &Noble, and Smashwords.

New Review of His Wife for a While

2011-12-07T07:47:00.001-05:00

His Wife for a While is currently #38 on Kindle's Best-Selling Contemporary Romance List. (UPDATE! Today (12.9.11), it's #24!) I'm happy that the book is doing so well! I'd like to thank my readers.

The Autumn Review gave the book 4 out of 5 stars. "This really was a sweet story. Even though I knew how it would end up, I still enjoyed getting to know the characters. Chelsea's story was intriguing and I liked seeing her move past her doubts about love. They developed a sweet relationship full of hope."

I am so grateful for readers who are willing to tell other readers about good books. For Independent Authors like myself who self-publish their work, these readers/bloggers are a mainstay of promotion. We have few avenues of marketing open to us. So thank you, Autumn Review!

His Wife for a While is now available for your Kindle.

Never Too Late

2011-12-05T09:12:00.001-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Linda Welch to my blog as she shares her inspiring story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. I'd like to remind readers that all proceeds of this book will be donated to the Susan G. Komen Foundation in the fight against breast cancer. Linda, welcome to In All Directions!

~ ~ ~

When I published the first two Whisperings paranormalmystery novels, I created an icon to use on Facebook and Twitter. The pictureis of Whisperings lead character, Tiff Banks. It seemed a good way to advertisemy product at the time. But no matter how often I say she is not me, I am not atall, slim, blond young woman, many obviously don’t believe me. Response to theavatar has amused me over the years. You wouldn’t believe the comments, compliments, and odd comments I think were meant as compliments. Many ofthem were a hoot. I knew I’d eventually have to come out of the identity closetand say, hey, look here, this is me, not the long-haired cutie.

Then Cheryl Shireman asked me to contributeto the Indie Chicks anthology and also asked for a photo. This is the perfect opportunityto set the record straight. If you want to know who Linda Welch really is, read on. . . .

NEVERTOO LATE

I’m going to tell you something I don’tthink you know.

I haven’t been a “chick” for many a year. I’ma couple of months shy of 61. I have been married to the same man for 39 years.We have two sons and four grandchildren. And you thought I was a tall, slim young thing, didn’t you. I am what iscalled a late bloomer and I’m writing this for other old biddies who had adream and let it pass them by, or think they are too busy, or it’s too late tofulfill their dream. I don’t mean just writing, but any dreamed-of achievementyou hide in your heart.

Linda Welch

I was born in a country cottage in England. My father was arestless man, so we often moved and never had much money. I remember days whenonly Dad had meat on his plate at dinner, but we never went hungry. We hadvegetables and fruit from the garden, eggs from the chickens. Times were hard,but we children never knew that. We were loved. When Mum and Dad met duringWorld War II, Mum was a privately educated “well-bred” lady. I doubt I willever meet anyone as smart as my mother. At 88 years, she is still as sharp as atack. Dad was a countryman to the bone. He had many artistic talents he didn’tpursue until later in life. When he did, he excelled at them. I like to thinksome of their intelligence and talent rubbed off on me.

So much has changed, in my life, in theworld. I hold memories of my childhood close. I won’t let them fade. One day, Iwill write about them.

I had a good basic education, first at avillage school, then an all-girls school, but I left at 15 (at that time thelegal age in England) and worked firstas a telephone operator before I went into office occupations. I did not seeauthorship in my future.

But I have always daydreamed. Often, Irecreated the same daydream multiple times, constantly elaborating. I did not realize I wrote books in my head.

I began writing words on paper in mymid-forties, but it was a hobby. Somewhere along the way, I thought, Could I publish this? and then I’d like to publish. But I talked myselfout of it. Authors were young men and women who decided they wanted to write ata young age and worked to improve their skill their entire life. They went tocollege and university, they had degrees in writing, creative writing orjournalism. I was inexperienced; I didn’t have their dedication or education.Anyway, I had a husband to support, children to raise and part-time jobs tosupplement the family income. I didn’t have time to write and send queries,synopsis or sample chapters to agents.

In 2008 I discovered the Lulu publishingplatform and took the plunge. I published the space opera Mindbender andscience fiction Galen’s Gate. I subsequently unpublished them, with everyintention of revising and republishing. Some copies are still floating aroundout there somewhere. However, Tiff Banks,who had been swimming around in this murky thing I call a brain for severalyears, chose to come out and play. She took over my life. She became my secondskin.

When I think back to why I did not publishuntil in my fifties, I realize it had nothing to do with inexperience or lackof education. I was not ready. I had to marry a dashing young American airman,leave my homeland, raise two sons, spoil four grandchildren, live and work withAmericans and become entrenched in the way of life. I was not ready to writeAlong Came a Demon until I came to the mountains of Utah, stood lookingover my mountain valley, and knew,“this is it. This is where Tiff lives. She knows the bitter cold and snow ofwinter, the harsh heat of summer. She knows her city and the people inside-out.This is Tiff’s world, and now, I know who she is.”

Then the hard work began. My education wasstrictly “King’s English.” I wrote formal letters, contracts and legaldocuments at work. I had to take the starch out of my writing. Research didn’thelp. It seemed that each time I read an article or blog about word usage, inparticular overuse and what to avoid, the next book I read was a best-sellingnovel by a best-selling author who broke those rules. And having decided to bargeinto my life, Tiff was very positive about how she talks. She’s a born and bredAmerican, a slightly snarky, slang-wielding gal who speaks to the reader on apersonal level, individual to individual. I had to use a style that practicallyscreamed “you can’t do that!” in my ear every other sentence.

I published the first Whisperings novel for another reason: Nobody seemed to believe inmy writing. Not friends, relatives, friendly acquaintances. I think theysupposed a 58-year-old with no education in the literary field, who suddenly cameout of the woodwork and decided to publish, must be a “vanity publisher” whowanted to force poorly-written books on readers. When I said I wrote fiction, Igot blank looks, followed by, “that’s nice. Now, as I was saying. . .” Nobody wanted to read my work, not even my sweethusband. But he enjoyed urban fantasy and I thought he’d like Tiff Banks. So in a way, I alsopublished for him.

I published Along Came a Demon in November 2008. It was supposed to be astand-alone novella, but readers wanted more and Tiff obliged. Along Came a Demon became book one ofthe Whisperings series of paranormal mysteries. I published the sequel, The Demon Hunters, in November 2009. In2010 I added material to Along Came aDemon to make it a full-length book and at the same time made small changesto The Demon Hunters to reflect thosein Along Came a Demon. I publishedbook three, Dead Demon Walking, inMarch 2011. Being a wordsmith, I should be able to express my joy each time areader tells me they love my books, but it truly is beyond my powers ofdescription. Now, when someone asks me what I do for a living, instead of tellingthem I am a part-time administrative assistant and adding (hesitantly) “I alsowrite fiction,” I say I am an author. When I fill out a form that asks for myoccupation, I proudly write “author” in the little box.

Mary Wesley published Jumping the Queue at age 70 and went on to write ten best sellersuntil she died twenty years later.

Harriett Doerr was 74 when she published The Stones of Ibarra.

Laura Ingalls Wilder published her Little House on the Prairie series whenshe was in her 50s.

Mary Lawson was 55 when Crow Lake was published.

Flora Thompson is famous for hersemi-autobiography Lark Rise toCandleford, published when she was 63.

Age is irrelevant. You are never too old.For anything.

~ ~ ~

This isone story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories available on Amazonand Barnes& Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.
Also included are sneak peeks into 25 novels!
My novel, Along Came a Demon, book one of the Whisperings paranormal mysteryseries, is one of the novels featured.
All proceeds go to Susan G. Komen for the Cure.

Linda on Amazon USA for Kindleand paperback.

Lindaon Amazon UK

Lindaon Barnes and Noble

Linda's Website

Linda on Smashwords

Whisperings on Facebook

Whispering booksare also available in e-book formats from Apple, Diesel, Kobo and Sony.

The Phoenix and the Darkness

2011-11-27T09:19:00.001-05:00

Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Lizzy Ford. What follows is her inspiring and provoking tale from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. All proceeds from this book go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the fight against breast cancer. It's available for your Kindle and your Nook.

ThePhoenix and the Darkness

by Lizzy Ford

I'vebeen running from The Darkness since I left home at the age of 17. I escaped a broken family to the military,found it unwelcoming to creative non-conformists but fulfilled mycommitment. The first man I dated was adrunkard who suffered from post traumatic stress disorder; the second rapedme. The rest of my time in the militarywas a blur of men, the different places I lived and The Darkness stalking me. At the end of my tour, I set my world on fireto keep the Darkness away, abandoned everything and everyone, and emerged fromthe flames like the mythical Phoenix. I ranhome to Ohio. I didn’t stay long andcontinued onward to New York, where I reinvented myself for a very brief periodof contentedness.

It didn’tlast. Darkness, fire, rebirth, and a fewyears, men and states later, I ended up in the arms of yet another unworthyman. I followed him to DC, bore themental abuse, and tried to tell myself this was the best life would everget.

I tooka job in a field I didn't care for and ended up running from job-to-job-to-job,unable to find a place where I was happy. I was hit by a drunk driver at 26, leaving me with a long lifetime ofconstant pain. I had a miscarriage, gaveall my money to the unworthy man and couldn't pay my bills despite the good job. I moved from Virginia to Maryland and back toVirginia, unable to shake the pursuing Darkness. Finally, I put all my belongings in storage,ready to set my word afire and flee once again.

Iworked up the nerve to ditch the dysfunctional man, but before I could run far,I met the man who would become my first husband. He wanted normal things: stability, house, family. I convinced myself if I had these things, theDarkness would be gone. He needed amother, not a wife, but I married him anyway and prayed it was enough.

Itwasn't. I set my world afire once more,and I fled him, too. I put everything Ivalued in my truck, grabbed the dog, and left. Away from DC, the east coast, everything I owned, my first husband. I ran to Texas to a new job and divorced thefirst husband. Yet again, I wasreborn. Soon after, I met my soulmate. Some part of me knew I couldn’tkeep running if I wanted to keep him. I turnedaround to see if The Darkness still chased me. After fifteen years of running, The Darknesswas closer than ever.

I toldthe man who would become my second husband to stay away from me – I wasdangerous. He saw The Darkness, and hesaw me.

You’re brilliant and beautiful. I love you, Darkness and all, he said. But ifyou don’t deal with it and accept the fate for which you were put on thisearth, you’ll be consumed by it.

Icouldn’t yet face the Darkness even with his support, but I could see how wrongmy path was. My path wasn't a career Iloathed, and it wasn't ignoring my true gift: writing. So I worked full time and wrote fulltime. I found true joy for the firsttime in my life, but The Darkness got too close. I ran away from that job - the only job I'dever remotely enjoyed. This time, I keptmy only ally in life - my guardian angel and partner.

I tooka new job in a new state. With myhusband and my writing, I saw The Darkness recede, and I grew happy. Instead of looking over my shoulder, Istarted looking into the future. I vowedto run towards something instead of away from something. I wasn’t just reborn – I was alive for the first time in my life.

Andthen, this past summer, I tripped. TheDarkness swallowed me. As in one of myupcoming novels, The Darkness turned me inside out. I couldn't go to work and could barely leavethe house. It pinned me beneath it, andthe more I tried to run, the heavier it got. Everything I'd run from in life was there: my near-poverty upbringing;the breaking apart of my family when I was a kid; my struggle with my weightand social anxiety issues; with finding acceptance at any job; with men anddysfunctional relationships; the pending financial disaster I'd been building;fear of failure and ending up as miserable as my parents. I thought I'd suffocate, until the Darknessspoke to me.

You can run again and risk losing theman you love, or you can face me and be happy, it said.

I want to be happy, I replied.

Then do what you must.

It's not that easy. I'm scared.

Sometimes life only gives us difficultchoices, but you still must choose. I ama part of you. You must accept me and deal with me before you can move on, it said.

Ithought hard as I looked at all the things I'd accumulated that werebankrupting me financially and emotionally. I looked at what made me happy in life: my husband and my writing. I saw how I'd hurt my most precious treasures- and myself - by setting my world on fire whenever The Darkness got too close.

This is gonna hurt, I told The Darkness.

Not for long, it said. Youonly have to do this once.

Inthat moment, I made my choice. I wouldface The Darkness within me, no matter how hard it was. I loved my husband too much to hurt him more,and I was sick of being a coward. I tooka leave of absence in early September to deal with my past as well as the depressionand anxiety that have haunted me my whole life. Writing has always been my solace and my passion. Through it, I'll heal theworld I broke and my own soul, and become the partner my husband deserves.

ThePhoenix will be reborn once more, not of fire, but of Darkness, and will emergestronger than ever.

~ ~ ~

Lizzy Ford is the author of the War of Gods series.

The "War of Gods" series by Lizzy Ford is a paranormal romance series depicting the ongoing struggle between good and evil - and the immortals and their human mates who are caught in the middle. The first book, "Damian's Oracle" (released October 2011) is the story of the White God and his Oracle, the cool beauty, Sofia. The second book, "Damian's Assassin," (released November 2011) is about the White God's assassin and the woman who heals his heart and body. The third book will be released 02 Dec and tells the tale of the White God's chief immortal and the mysterious, beautiful Magician he risks his life to protect.

Damian’sOracle(currently free on Amazon)

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Damians-Oracle-War-Gods-ebook/dp/B004JN0KHM/

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damians-oracle-lizzy-ford/1029664032

iTunes: http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/damians-oracle/id416014301?mt=11

Lizzy's contact information:

Website: http://www.guerrillawordfare.com/

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

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/LizzyFord2010

Google+: https://plus.google.com/b/106728579413949863215/pages/getstarted#106728579413949863215/posts

GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4558309.Lizzy_Ford

Amazon:http://www.amazon.com/Lizzy-Ford/e/B004XTTYOC/

One Day Left to Enter!

2011-11-26T19:32:00.001-05:00

Sue over at Cookie's Bookclub is giving away 3 copies of my e-book, His wife for a while. Hurry on over there and enter for your chance to win. There are several ways to enter, so be sure to take advantage of as many of the choices as possible. Good luck!

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T21:00:00.001-05:00

Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.
Aesop

~ ~ ~

You cannot do a kindness too soon
because you never know how soon it will be too late.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

~ ~ ~

No one is useless in this world
who lightens the burden of another.
Charles Dickens

~ ~ ~

Some people are always grumbling
because roses have thorns;
I am thankful that thorns have roses.
Alphonse Karr

~ ~ ~

When I started counting my blessings,
my whole life turned around.
Willie Nelson

Romance in Brazil

2011-11-23T22:07:00.001-05:00

My novel, The Merry-Go-Round, has been published by Nova Cultural in Brazil. I'm so happy that my book is finding new readers!

Here's a link to the website: Nova Cultural

BigAl's Books and Pals: His Wife for a While / Donna Fasano

2011-11-22T10:44:00.000-05:00

Books and Pals reviews my latest release!

BigAl's Books and Pals: His Wife for a While / Donna Fasano: Reviewed by: BigAl Genre: Romance Approximate word count: 50-55,000 words Availability Kindle US: YES UK: YES Nook: YES Smash...

Write or Die

2011-11-21T13:30:00.001-05:00

Today I welcome Danielle Blanchard to my blog. The following is her story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Inspiring Stories.

Write or Die

2010 was the worst year of my life.

After a very successful career in the banking industry,I suddenly found myself unemployed, my marriage falling apart and to add insultto injury my father dying. I had a 10 month old daughter and suddenly, I wasback living with my unmarried, child-free sister with two children. Life wasbleak and the most terrifying part about the whole situation was I hadabsolutely no idea what I was going to do.

I was attending university for a degree inInternational Business but who was I kidding? I’d always hated business; I wasgood at banking but should I base my career on something I was simply good ator should I be doing something I love? This was my dilemma and I had no one toblame for my predicament but myself.

Plenty of women had overcome more tremendous obstaclesso why was I feeling sorry for myself? I steeled my spine and decided to makesome real decisions. In the middle of the detritus which was now my life, Ifound a wonderful and caring man I fell hopelessly in love with but the problemwas he didn’t live in this country and he was a successful and driven attorney.What would he want with someone like me? Unemployed, two children, divorced andsomewhat shaky ambitions at an age where most women had it made, were marriedand excelling towards middle age. My life was a mess and I needed a man like afish needs a bicycle (thanks, U2!).

I took a long hard look at my life and realized I hadfailed to plan and therefore I had planned to fail.

When I stood at that podium and looked at the fewfamily and friends who had bothered to show up at my dad’s funeral, my lifebecame so clear. My father had had so many chances; so much lost opportunitiesand had blew all of them due to fear and inertia. I was my father’s daughter; Iwas falling into that same black hole of despondency with no way out.

It took another fourteen months before I had the actualcourage to see out my dream and make it a reality. Isabelle Solal had written abook, In The Past Imperfect, and hergood friend, Sion Dayson, had promoted it on her blog. She was tired of waitingfor the agent who would never accept the publisher who could never take achance and had decided to self-publish her fictional book on Amazon. Was thispossible? Could I self-publish? Could I take my book which I had tried to findan agent for the past eight years or so and do it myself? Say it isn’t so!

I was so excited about the possibility of publishing, Idug it out of the place it’d warmed my different hard drives and laptops over theyears, decided at over one thousand hard back pages, it was much too long topublish as a full length novel, chopped it up into eight parts and hit publishon the first part.

I was ecstatic as I had done my own cover (a beautifulstatue which captivated me while I was on my European vacation) and it was justso perfect. Unfortunately, no one else knew I existed and that is when Irealized publishing was more than just about hitting a button. I had to makesure my novel was edited, the right cover was used to attract attention andthere was a whole list of indie writers I didn’t know about but they were thereand ready to be at my service.

In the beginning, I only used Kindle’s DirectPublishing board because that was the only one I knew about. Another writer,Athanasios, who wrote a thrilling book titled Mad Gods, told everyone on the KDP boards about a new Facebookboard group called Indie Writers’ Unite. I joined, Cheryl Bradshaw, the creatorof IWU accepted me, and the rest is history.

I wish I could say I am selling thousands of copies andI got the guy but that isn’t life and nothing happens without time. I amselling and many people have discovered my work; I have met some of the bravestmen and women on the planet at IWU and I feel like a million bucks even if mylife still isn’t a bed of roses. The guy, like everything good in life, willtake some time and I am willing to put it in and make the effort; nothing worthanything is easy to accomplish for the matter.

I love to write so that is what I’m doing. I enjoywriting whatever moves me, thus I have work in several different genresincluding Women’s Literature, Contemporary Romance, Paranormal, Science Fictionand Fantasy. I also plan to do a novel I have had in the works for a while thatis firmly Mystery with a Thriller twist.

For the first time, I stayed true to myself, myambitions and what I want my life to be and represent. I know it will getbetter and all my dreams will come true—many of them already have. My life isstill changing, still revolving but I have come out ahead, stronger and morepositive than I ever thought possible. I learned the hard way either I write orI can simply subsist and die.

Life is like writing; it isn’t about perfection, but itis about the possibilities we are given every day, the decisions we make andwhat we want to do with them. It is about forks in the road and deciding whichdirection to take and making the best with whatever is thrown at us once wemake our decisions. It is the way it should be and that is simply imperfect.

~ ~ ~

Danielle Blanchard is the author of Death Wish and Forever 27.

Cookie's Book Club: Interview with Donna Fasano author of The Merry-G...

2011-11-21T12:46:00.000-05:00

Cookie's Book Club: Interview with Donna Fasano author of The Merry-G...: I'm pleased to welcome back Donna Fasano to Cookie's Book Club. The last time Donna was here , while I was on vacation, quite a little party...

New Release - His Wife for a While

2011-11-17T21:55:00.001-05:00

I'm pleased to announce the release of my newest romance novel, His Wife for a While.

Desperate Bachelor

Ben Danvers was about to lose everything―unless he found awoman willing to become his wife. The terms of his grandfather's will wereoutrageous, but they were iron clad. Just when Ben was about to give up allhope, the last woman he ever expected to wed made a startling proposal.

Bargaining Bride

Chelsea Carson offered Ben a deal he couldn't refuse. Hecould keep the family fruit orchard if he would make her one and only dreamcome true. But there were to be no strings attached, no messy emotions when itwas over. Their makeshift marriage would be perfect―unless Chelseaallowed love to bungle the plan.

Available for all e-readers at Smashwords.

Also available in Amazon's Kindle Store

and B&N's Nookbook Store.

Latchkey Kid

2011-11-14T07:16:00.001-05:00

This week I welcome author Heather Adkins who presents her story from the book Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories.

Heather MarieAdkins

Latchkey Kid

It isn’t easy being the daughter of a police officer, but it’s even moredifficult to be the daughter of a female police officer. I would come tounderstand this early, and often, in my life.

My mom’s career has always been the whirling force of my existence.
She was sworn into the Louisville Police Department on September 10, 1990. I was five yearsold. For the majority of my developmental years, I bounced through a successionof caretakers—my grandmother, my father and stepmother, and a kind woman Icalled ‘Mama Lo’—while my mom was forging her way through her early years as arookie officer.

I remember late nights—my mom in her uniform, her gun belt digging into myside as she bundled me into a blanket to carry me to the car. I remembermornings getting on the school bus, knowing Mom would be coming home from workjust in time for me to leave. But when I remember these things, they aresnippets: Only bits and pieces of the woman who is my mother. Her job wasdemanding and sometimes, you just have to sacrifice to make your dreams cometrue.

When I was ten, Mom aced the Detective test and was granted her firstpromotion. Suddenly, we were buying a new house in a nice neighborhood. I wasin middle school, which was awkward enough, and Mom began working 4 pm to midnight.
Thus began my time as a Latchkey Kid.

I rode the bus home from school and let myself into the house around 4:30 every afternoon. Under Mom’sstrict instructions, I would check to make sure all three doors of the housewere locked and then I would set the alarm. Until bedtime, I was on lockdown. No going outside—not even to the backyard.No answering the door, no looking out the windows. Just me and the dog: A tinyShih-Tzu named Cinnamon.

I was kind of an odd child. I didn’t care much for television, though I didlove to play Nintendo. I could rock on some Mario Bros. I also absolutely lovedto read, particularly R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps and Ann M. Martin’s TheBabysitter’s Club. There is really only so much video gaming and reading a girl can do beforeshe wishes she had another hobby. At least, that’s how it was for me. I waslonely. Monday through Friday, every evening alone…it sucked.

It was around this time that my daddy shared with me a novel he was writing.Daddy is a computer guru who does freelance work, but he writes for fun on theside. “Demigod” was one of the most amazing things I had ever read. Not onlywas I astounded that my dad had such talent, but for the first time I realizedthere were people behind the books I liked to read.

Armed with nothing more than spiral-bound notebooks and pencils, I beganwriting.
Between 10 and 16, I wrote seven full-length novels. Today, I suppose theywould be considered Young Adult. Some of them were murder mysteries with strongheroines. Many of them had elements of what today is considered ParanormalRomance. Most of my early influences were from authors I enjoyed: Stine, aswell as Richie Tankersley Cusick and Christopher Pike. Somewhere in the midstof all this, my mom bought me a laptop and I transferred everything to digital.

I continued to write during high school, though significantly less once Igot my driver’s license. I focused mainly on short stories and built up a vastcollection that I ended up losing to the nightmare of an erased floppy disk. Imajored in English in high school. Earned a couple college credits. And wastold multiple times by various English teachers that I had talent.

After graduation, I went away to college at Western Kentucky University. My mother hadmarried a great man who was also a police officer. Between the two of them, Iwas able to go away to school and thus started several years of BAD DECISIONS.I kicked it off right, as most first-time college teens do. I drank too muchand partied too hard, not making it to class, much less spending my timewriting. Two years later, I came home to Louisvillewith my tail between my legs, no smarter than I was before.

Back at my mother and stepfather’s home, I found the situation to be stiflingfor the girl who had done what she wanted, when she wanted for so long. I wasalready rebelling—not phoning, disappearing all night—when a chance encounteron the banks of the Ohio River brought a maninto my life who was not right for me in more ways than one.

Jason was an ex-con and felon. I was the daughter of two police officers.Cue ominous music.

Let’s skip the dirty parts and go to the section where I pack my things andflee into the night like a bat out of Hades. My parents change the locks, I cutoff all contact, and hole up in a hovel on 3rd Street with my friend, Brent. Oh, andin the meantime, my convict boyfriend ends up back in the Slammer.

I bounced around for some time. To an apartment with my cousin, Ryan. Thento a big, fancy house outside of Nashville, Tennessee with Jason’s family.After severing ties with them, I rented a tiny studio apartment downtown. Imoved a couple more times, losing money (and myself) in the process.

Not once in the years I spent chasing something, anything in Tennessee did I sit downto write.

In January 2008, I was in debt and barely hanging on to the apartment I wasrenting. My good-for-nothing, pot-smoking boyfriend-of-the-moment wasn’thelping with the bills because he couldn’t hold a job. My car was on the vergeof repossession. I was going nowhere; the only positive thing I did havewas that I was talking with my parents again.
Then the life-shattering, earth-moving event. In North Carolina, January 31st, my cousinCory—a Marine, a firefighter, one of my best friends—was killed in a caraccident. He was 25 years old.

My mom drove from Louisvilleto Nashvillethe minute she heard. She told me it was because she didn’t want me to bealone, nor did she want to tell me something so sensitive over the phone. That’sjust how she is; no matter how terrible a daughter I could be, she always putme first.

Later that same night after she left, I was alone. My deadhead boyfriendwasn’t home, neither was our equally stoned roommate. I was sitting on oursingle mattress on the floor, looking around our bare room with its one dresserand a floor strewn with clothes. It hit me.

What are you doing? Really?

Was I just trying to prove I could do it on my own? Because I couldn’t.Obviously.
In a flash of grief and pain, I realized my life had spiraled out of controlsimply because I was too stubborn to admit my parents were right.

I packed my things. My dog and I climbed in the old Jeep. And we came hometo Louisville.

During the upheaval of moving back, I also found something I hadn’t yetrealized I had lost—my writing. Whether it was my grief over Cory or simplyreturning home, I don’t know—but I started writing again.

Even better…I finished the novels I had started years before and I havestarted (and finished) even more in the time since.

I’ve been through a lot in my life. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as some, maybe itwasn’t as rough…but it shows that a girl can make bad decisions, life-changingmistakes, and still bounce back.

My mom is a Major with the Louisville Metro Police force—the third highestranking female on the department. She just celebrated her 21st anniversary thismonth. I am in a stable, committed relationship with a man who will one day bemy husband. We live in a small but nice home—I’m a police dispatcher. He’s apolice officer.

I was a latchkey kid and because of it, I am now a writer. I am the daughterof a female police officer, and because of that, I’m a stronger, better woman.

***

This is one story from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25Personal Stories available on Amazonand Barnes& Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.

Also included are sneak peeks into 25 novels!

My paranormal romance novel, Abigail , is one of thenovels featured.

All proceeds go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation for BreastCancer.

Abigail

Knight in Shining Armor

2011-11-08T11:42:00.001-05:00

Iwelcome Shéa MacLeodto In All Directions. She is a participating author of Indie Chicks: 25Independent Women, 25 Inspiring Stories. Today, she’s sharing her story.

Knight in Shining Armor

by Shéa MacLeod

It’s strange how long a bruise can last.

Long after the physical evidence is gone, the musclesremember. A raised hand or an angryvoice, and the body flinches away. Themind tries to forget, bury the pain deep … but the scars are forever.

It didn’t start that way, of course. He said all the right things. Did all the right things. When I was sick he took care of me. When my car broke down he fixed it. I thought I’d finally found my knight inshining armor.

What I’d found was a nightmare. The minute I was hooked, everythingchanged. It started with the namecalling, the blame, the bouts of rage. As time passed, he turned increasingly violent. It was always my fault. I was useless. I’d never be anything. Do anything. Accomplish anything.

If I tried to fight him, he threatened to destroy everyone Iloved. To ruin their lives. Stupidly, I believed him.

He was always sorry after.

You might ask why I didn’t leave. It’s a fair question. But until you’ve been there, until you’velived through that, you have no idea how messed up a woman’s head gets when shehas to live through that day after day. There is no such thing as confidence, self-esteem. You learn to live with the overwhelmingconviction that this is all there is. You have nowhere else to go.

That’s the very worst part of abuse. Beyond the bruises and the emotionalscars. The absolute knowledge that thisis the way you will live. And mostlikely the way you will die. You don’tdeserve anything else.

In a way, I was lucky. I had something else. A secretweapon, if you will. I just had no ideaback then how powerful that weapon was.

I could write.

All through those nightmare years I wrote. Not about what I was living through, butabout something else. An imaginary worldwhere I would escape, where I was strong. A place where I kicked bad guy ass. A place where I was my own hero.

Prophetic? Perhaps.

The writing kept a spark of something alive in me. My soul? Hope? Who knows. But one day, that tiny spark of somethingflared up. I couldn’t take anotherminute.

I had nothing. Nomoney. Nowhere to go. But I walked out that door and never lookedback.

Nobody rode in on a white horse to save me. I saved myself.

It was a very long uphill struggle to get healthy again, butthrough it all I kept writing. Writinghad always been my passion, now it was my salvation, too.

Through writing I regained my sense of self. I grew strong. Stronger than I ever had been before. Words poured from me as my mind and bodyhealed itself. Slowly but surely Irecovered.

It’s nine years later and that life seems like a distantnightmare. The woman I was then couldnever have dreamed of the life I am living today.

The writing has never stopped. It just moved with me, changing zip codes. I now write in a sunny room in a Georgiantownhouse in London, England. I haveself published two novels and am about to publish the third. My stories, while sometimes holding a darkedge, are still full of hope and my readers love them. I am now selling enough that I can stay athome and write full time. I made mydreams a reality.

Guess what?

You can, too.

The day I walked out of that abusive relationship was theday I became my own hero. That oneaction changed everything.

If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship,please visit the Hot Peach Pages for a list of agencies all over the world whohelp women living in domestic violence.

http://www.hotpeachpages.net/

No woman deserves to be abused and mistreated. It’s time to say NO to violence.

It’s time to be your own hero.

~ ~ ~

http://sheamacleod.wordpress.com/

DragonWarrior on Amazon

DragonWarrior on Smashwords

“Thisis one story from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available onAmazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.Also included are sneak peeks into 25 novels! My novel, DRAGON WARRIOR, is oneof the novels featured. All proceeds go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation forBreast Cancer.”

IndieChicks is available on Amazonand Barnes& Noble.

Find Indie Chicks on Facebook.

Indie Chicks: Women Helping Women

2011-10-31T12:52:00.000-04:00

Launch days are always happy days for me. I am proud andpleased to have been asked to participate in an anthology of personal storiescalled Indie Chicks, 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories. Thebest part about this project is that all proceeds will go to the Susan G. KomenFoundation to fight breast cancer. The stories in this book are inspiring andpowerful, but you don't have to take my word for it. Here's a review that was justposted on Amazon:

5-star review by Echo75 – "These ladies areunflinchingly honest, laying bare their personal lives and their own hopes andaspirations to encourage others. Every cent made off this book is going tocharity, but with their personal stories these ladies have demonstrated theynot only have big hearts, they have guts. It takes real courage to leave anabusive relationship. It takes real courage to stare down depression and comeout the victor. It takes real courage to be a single Mom. And it takes courageto write -- and especially to go it alone and put your writing before the worldas an indie author. These brave ladies have done all that and more. Above all,it takes a heck of a lot of courage to overcome a battle with breast cancer.This book is an inspiring, illuminating read, but every book sold also helpsmake the life of breast cancer sufferers -- those courageous women who could beour mothers, our sisters, our daughters, ourselves -- just a little easier. Buyit today. If not for yourself, for a woman you love."

Amazon US Kindle Store

Amazon UK Kindle Store

Barnes & Noble Nook Book Store

A few words from the mastermind behind this project:

What is your life whispering to you?

by Cheryl Shireman

I believe life whispers to you and provides direction. I call that life force God. You can call it whatever you want, but there is no escaping it. If we are open, and brave enough to say yes, life will take us in directions we never expected, and you will live a life beyond your wildest dreams.

Those whisperings often come in the form of a “crazy” idea or a nudge to move into a certain direction that seems odd or silly or daring. Then there is that moment when you think, Well, that’s weird. Where in the world did that come from?

And then there’s the second moment, when you have to make a choice. You can dismiss the crazy notion, and probably even come up with a dozen reasons why it’s a bad idea. You don’t have the time, the money, or the resources. Besides, who are you to do such a thing? What in the world were you thinking? So, you dismiss the idea. We always have that option – to say No.

But it comes back – that whisper. Sometimes again and again. But if we are practical, and safe, we can squash the notion until it is almost forgotten. Almost.

Such a notion came to me a couple of months ago. I began to think of an anthology composed of women writers. An anthology that would be published before the rapidly approaching holiday season. The title came to me almost immediately – Indie Chicks. It was a crazy notion. I was working with an editor who was editing my first two novels, and was also in the middle of writing a third novel. Working on three books seemed to be a pretty full plate. Adding a fourth was insane.

But the crazy notion kept coming back to me. It simply refused to be dismissed. So I sent out a “feeler” email to another writer, Michelle Muto. She loved the idea. I sent out another email to my writing buddy, J. Carson Black. She loved the idea, too, but couldn’t make the time commitment. She had just signed with Thomas & Mercer and was knee deep in writing. I took it as a sign. I didn’t have the time for the project either. Perhaps after the first of the year, when final edits were done on my own novels. I dismissed it, at least for the present time. I’d think about it again in another couple of months, when the timing made more sense.

A week later I surrendered, started developing a marketing plan for Indie Chicks, and began sending out emails to various indie writers – some I knew, but most were strangers. I contacted a little over thirty women. Every one of them responded with enthusiasm. Most said yes immediately, and those who could not, due to time commitments, wished us well and asked me to let them know when the book when the book was published so they could be part of promoting it.

One of the first writers I contacted was Heather Marie Adkins. Earlier this year, while I was browsing the internet, I came across an interview with Heather. The interviewer (oddly enough, Michelle Muto) asked Heather, When did you decide to become an indie author? Heather’s answer was: About a month ago. My dad had been trying to talk me into self-publishing for some time, but I was hesitant. One night, I sat down and ran a Google search. I discovered Amanda Hocking, JA Konrath, Victorine Lieski; but it was Cheryl Shireman that convinced me. This is the field to be in. I was shocked (Astonished! Flabbergasted!). I had no idea that I had ever inspired anyone! To be honest, it was a bit humbling. And,okay, yes – it made me cry. So, of course, I had to invite Heather to be a part of the anthology. Heather not only said yes, but she also volunteered to format the project – a task I was dreading.

As Heather and I exchanged emails, I told her about how I had been similarly inspired to become an indie writer by Karen McQuestion. My husband bought me a Kindle for Christmas of 2010. Honestly, the present angered me. I didn’t want a Kindle. I wanted nothing to do with reading a book on an electronic device! I love books; the feel of them, the smell of them. But, very quickly, I started filling up that Kindle with novels.

One day, while looking for a new book on Amazon, I came across a title by Karen McQuestion. I learned that McQuestion had published her novels through Amazon straight to Kindle. Immediately, I began doing research on her and how to publish through Kindle. I had just completed a novel and was ready to submit it through traditional routes. Within 48 hours of first reading about McQuestion, I submitted my novel, Life Is But A Dream: On The Lake. Twenty four hours later, it was published as an eBook on Amazon. Within another couple of weeks it was available as a paperback and through Nook. Did I jump into this venture fearlessly? No! I was scared to death, and I almost talked myself out of it. Almost. The novel went on to sell over 10,000 copies within the first seven months of release.

As I shared that story with Heather, another crazy notion whispered in my ear – Ask Karen McQuestion to write the foreword for Indie Chicks. Of course, I dismissed it. We had exchanged a couple of tweets on Twitter, but other than that, I had never corresponded with McQuestion. It was nonsense to think she would write the foreword. I was embarrassed to even ask her. Surely, she would think I was some sort of nut. But, the idea kept whispering to me and, with great trepidation, I emailed her. She said yes! Kindly, enthusiastically, and whole-heartedly, she said yes. Karen McQuestion had inspired me to try indie publishing. I had inspired Heather Adkins. And now the three of us were participating in Indie Chicks, that crazy whisper I had been unable to dismiss.

The book began to develop, and as it did, a theme began to form. This was to be a book full of personal stories from women. As women, one of our most powerful gifts is our ability to encourage one another. This book became our effort to encourage women across the world. Twenty-five women sharing stories that will make you laugh, inspire you, and maybe even make you cry. We began to dream that these stories would inspire other women to live the life they were meant to live.

From the beginning, I knew I wanted the proceeds of this charity to go to some sort of charity that would benefit other women. While we were in the process of compiling the anthology, the mother of one of the women was diagnosed with breast cancer. Almost immediately upon learning that, Michelle Muto sent me an email. Hey, in light of *****’s mother having an aggressive form of breast cancer, can I nominate The Susan G. Komen foundation for breast cancer? I mean, one of our own is affected here, and other than heart disease (which took my own mother’s life), I can’t think of anything more worthy than to honor our sister in words and what she’s going through. A daughter’s love knows no bounds for her mother. Trust me. I know it’s a charity that already gets attention on its own. But, that’s not the point, is it? The point is there are 25 ‘sisters’ sticking together and supporting each other for this anthology. I say we put the money where the heart is. We had our inspiration. All proceeds would go to the Susan G. Komen foundation for breast cancer research.

The stories started coming in. Some were light hearted and fun to read. But others were gut-wrenching and inspiring – stories of how women dealt with physical abuse, overwhelming grief, and a host of bad choices. It was clear; these women were not just sharing a story, but a piece of their heart. I felt as if I were no longer “organizing” this anthology, but just getting out of the way so that it could morph and evolve into its truest form.

Fast forward to just a few days before publication. Heather was almost done with the enormous task of formatting a book with twenty-five authors. We were very close to publishing and were on the homestretch. That’s when I received an email. An unlikely email from someone I didn’t really know. Beth Elisa Harris and I were involved in another indie project and Beth sent an email to all of the authors in that project, including me. She attached a journal to that email. For whatever reason, Beth had been inspired to share a journal she wrote a few years ago. She cautioned us to keep her confidence and not share the journal with anyone else. I tend toward privacy and don’t tend to trust easily. This is a HUGE step for me. I’ve only read it once since I wrote it. Intrigued, I opened the journal and began reading. It dealt with her diagnosis, a few years back, with breast cancer! Before I was even one third of the way through the journal, I felt I should ask Beth to include this journal in the Indie Chicks anthology. It was a crazy notion, especially when considering her words about privacy and trust. We didn’t even know each other, how could I ask her to go public with something so personal? I tried to dismiss the notion (are you noticing a pattern here?), but could not. I wrote the email, took a deep breath, and hit send. She answered immediately. Yes. Most definitely, yes.

Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories , with foreword by Karen McQuestion and afterword by Beth Elise Harris, is now available through Barnes and Noble and Amazon. The book includes personal stories from each of the women, as well as excerpts from our novels. And it began as a whisper. A whisper I did my best to ignore.

What whisper are you ignoring? What crazy notion haunts you? What dream merely awaits your response? I urge you, say Yes. Live the life you were meant to live. Say yes today.

Stories included in Indie Chicks:

Foreword by Karen McQuestion

Knight in Shining Armor by Shea MacLeod

Latchkey Kid by Heather Marie Adkins

Write or Die by Danielle Blanchard

The Phoenix and The Darkness by Lizzy Ford

Never Too Late by Linda Welch

Stepping Into the Light by Donna Fasano

One Fictionista’s Literary Bliss by Katherine Owen

I Burned My Bra For This? by Cheryl Shireman

Mrs. So Got It Wrong Agent by Prue Battten

Holes by Suzanne Tyrpak

Turning Medieval by Sarah Woodbury

A Kinky Adventure in Anglophilia by Anne R. Allen

Writing From a Flour Sack by Dani Amore

Just Me and James Dean by Cheryl Bradshaw

How a Big Yellow Truck Changed My Life by Christine DeMaio-Rice

From 200 Rejections to Amazon Top 200! by Sibel Hodge

Have You Ever Lost a Hat? by Barbara Silkstone

French Fancies! by Mel Comley

Life’s Little Gifts by Melissa Foster

Never Give Up On Your Dream by Christine Kersey

Self-taught Late Bloomer by Carol Davis Luce

Moving to The Middle East by Julia Crane

Paper, Pen, and Chocolate by Talia Jager

The Magic Within and The Little Book That Could by Michelle Muto

Write Out of Grief by Melissa Smith

Afterword by Beth Elisa Harris

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Put on Your Clown Nose and be an Inspiration

2011-08-05T08:05:00.000-04:00

I don't know about you, but I really like the idea of inspiring others. Okay, so maybe I don't go so far as to don a red rubber nose or big, blue shoes that flop with each step, but inducing grins, lifting spirits, stirring confidence, boosting courage, all of these things energize me and make me feel alive. Bringing people up is so much more fun and rewarding than knocking them down. I often encounter grumps and wonder how they make it through the day. You know the type, people whose brows are pinched, who constantly frown, and who can't find a positive thing to say to anyone about anything. (Enough about the "Negative Nelsons and Nellys" of the world. This post is about making a positive impact, which is something that some people just don't "get" and never will.)

Inspiring others isn't all that difficult. It doesn't cost a lot of money. It doesn't take a great deal of effort. Here are a few simple suggestions on how you can become an inspiration:

Smile

Max Eastman said a smile is the universal welcome. He was right. I have found that a smile is a lot like the common cold—infectious (thankfully, a smile doesn't make your nose run). When I offer a smile of greeting, nine people out of ten will smile back. I've heard it said that the eyes are the window to the soul. I'd take that a step further and claim that a smile is the light that tells people you're home…you're engaged…you're interested…and, most importantly, they matter. I've also learned that a smile will often confuse an approaching frown. I know I shouldn't take such delight in confounding the grumps out there, but nothing fills me with more joy than forcing a pair of pursed lips to curl up at the corners.

Show a little concern

I can't tell you how many cashiers I have stunned with a mere, "How are you doing today?" Of course, the question is so overused that it often goes unheard. But it's the delivery that matters. Asked in a heartfelt, sincere manner, cashiers (or bank tellers, or department store clerks, or…you get the idea) will stop what they're doing, they'll look me in the eye, they'll smile and answer, and most often they'll ask me how I'm doing in return. For that one moment, we truly connect. Letting people know you genuinely care has an extremely positive effect.

Look for the good

We seem to have no problem telling the server that our chicken is tough, or our potatoes are cold. We're often too quick to complain to the theater attendant that the air temperature isn't just right. Have you ever stopped to think how rarely people hear praise? When someone offers you a compliment, how does it make you feel? Well, think how great it would be to go around sprinkling that good feeling on everyone like it was fairy dust. It isn't difficult to say something nice, and that one compliment you give could be the only one that person hears all day long. Just think! One small show of appreciation could make someone's spirit soar.

There you have it…three easy tips that will set you on your way to being an inspiration in the lives of family, friends, and strangers alike. And once you start putting these suggestions into practice, I'm sure you'll find that YOU are the one who is most changed for the good. Now please don't get me wrong. Even though I've talked of rubber noses, smiles, and compliments, I do know that life isn't always a fun-filled circus. However, developing a habit of thinking of others, being connected and centered, making a conscious effort to notice those around you rather than moving through life on auto-pilot, showing honest caring and kindness toward those you meet, will give you an attitude of gratitude, and scientists are learning that a healthy mental outlook is a powerful contributor toward living a happy life.

For My UK Kindle Fans

2011-07-20T08:53:00.000-04:00

My book is being featured on the UK Daily Cheap Reads website this morning. Check it out: Return of the Runaway Bride.

This is a true bargain at 99 cents (US) and 86p (UK). Put a little romance in your life!