Guest Author Post: Author Palessa gives a great tip on overcoming writer's block (plus excerpt)

Breaking Block Barriers

It was around May 2014 when I first got hit by a kind of writer’s block that I had never really known existed. I had published book 2, Portrait of Gray, which was such a powerful write. When I finished Unchained Hearts, I felt Grayson’s story so strongly that I had a lot of the graphical assets in my head as well as a solid outline for the story so quickly. I shocked myself. Grayson’s story was heart wrenching in many ways that I actually misted up when writing a couple of parts. I knew that if I felt that, readers would too.

But Book 3, Story of Us, was giving me problems. I was having a block that I just couldn’t quite explain. In May, I had to go offline for a few weeks. That meant no Facebook or email for at least three weeks and I was nervous. It wound up being the best thing that ever happened because it helped me to face what this block head on. I figured out what it was: Fear. I was afraid of the pain I was going to feel in writing what turned out to be the last book in the main series. Someone dying was hard enough but to have people’s lives destroyed through no fault of their own was pretty painful and I was avoiding it. That was my block.

There are different kinds of blocks writers can experience. 

• ·        As I mentioned, you know you’re going to have to deal with a difficulty and your mind is avoiding that kind of emotional discomfort.
• ·         You’re just burned out and don’t want to write anything.
• ·         You can’t finish what you started. It’s like the idea was there and then it just dried up

I have been through all of these at one point or another even before I was published. They used to scare me because when it comes to telling stories, that’s my calling, that’s my purpose.

One of the ways I have always been able to work through what’s in my head is by writing it out. When I was in school, we did stream of consciousness writing exercises in my English class and I loved them. I write out, chip away at it and eventually I find out what my real problem is. Not everyone can do this because it’s low tech but pen to paper is my “go to” when I have any problem like that.

When I used to get burned out, I stepped away and did something else. Writing doesn’t give me a lot of time to read, plus I have other business projects I work on.  For a time, I turn to those and just step away from writing for a bit because I don’t want to force the story to come. It won’t work. I step away and let the ideas comes to me when they are ready. That’s the time I’ll get flashes and inspirations. I may not be fully ready to write yet but as the ideas pop up, the feelings build I eventually get back to it.

Usually when I feel like an idea has dried up, that means that a part of the story just isn’t working for me and I need to take a left turn at Albuquerque. I scrap it and see if the character is open to doing something more radical. I am always conferring with my characters because, really, it’s their story. Opening myself up to that kind of change helps me generate other ideas and I’m usually a lot happier with the outcome.

My point is when it comes to overcoming blocks, there are different times, different kinds and different solutions. You need to just be honest enough with yourself to break through that barrier to get to the other side. Everybody has his or her way; what’s yours?

While you’re thinking about that, here’s an excerpt of my very first historical fiction book, Eyubea Girls, the story of how a young woman found her home in a land not her own:

"Marriage? But she's just seventeen, Simon.” Patrick watched the priest carefully remove his robes behind his desk. He closed his eyes and leaned over the simple wooden chair in front of the priest's desk, bowing his head. “She's a child who knows nothing of life, much less of Africa or missionary work."

"Patrick," Father Faricy finished hanging his robes and walked over to his friend. "She's of age. Many other young girls are contemplating or have already been married. They've got direction and purpose. Lisbette is a young woman and this is a great opportunity for her to learn about the world under the right guidance."

"She knows nothing of him. I know nothing of him. Yes, I know of his parents but…I cringe at the thought of my little girl marrying some man and moving so far off."

"All good points but think about it. As her parents, the mission is willing to pay you a handsome stipend of fifty pounds a month for two years, she would have a proper home from what I understand, a husband—"

"What about love, Simon?" Patrick may have lost his love but he wanted something more decent for his little girl.

Father Faricy walked up to Simon and put a hand on his shoulder. "Love can bloom under such circumstances where two people are bound together by a common goal. They are both young enough to explore their feelings."

Patrick pondered the proposal. Africa was far and exotic. Would Lisbette be happy there? And if she wasn't could she come back home? Looking the priest squarely in the eyes, he said with complete seriousness "I want her to be happy, Simon. I want her safe and happy especially after what Vivian did. I need to make sure she's protected. She will be so far away."

Father Faricy saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. "What happened, Patrick? At the very least you would have made the necessary excuses for Vivian's absence, but today you said nothing. Are the two of you all right?"

Hearing the genuine concern in the older man's voice Patrick looked down at his hands. Vivian's drunkenness was really the worst kept secret but it was their business. He closed his eyes, breathed a bracing sigh and told the priest all that happened.

"Saints be praised!" Father Faricy turned his eyes to the heavens. "I had no idea things were so dire."

Patrick laughed quietly. "I didn't know they could be this dire. Lisbette is all I have now." He saw the priest about to interject and he stopped him. "No. I'm not ending my marriage, if that's what you're worried about. Till death us do part and I meant it. But not even God can expect me to let this pass."

"I can understand your anger, Patrick. I even share it, God forgive me. But this opportunity for Lisbette is an answer to your prayers. She can be safe away from these thugs and you can settle the debt."

"And lose my daughter to a different world and a man I know nothing of in the process. What a tangled web, indeed."

Patrick knew his daughter. She hated being told what to do. He had always given her the freedom to choose her path. Now he was taking that freedom away. Even if it meant saving her life she would probably hate him for it. At least she would be alive, in Africa, while she seethed.

Looking at Father Faricy, Patrick nodded. The priest clapped his hands but Patrick held up his finger, "There are conditions. As soon as they are agreed, I will consent."

Patrick stepped out of Father Faricy's room and saw Graham and Lisbette across the room talking. She was smiling and they seemed to be getting along. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as he thought. He walked over to the pair calling out to his daughter.

"Da, Graham was telling me about his travels and the people he's going to meet."

"I'm glad you had someone to talk to while I discussed some church business with the Father." Patrick turned to Graham and extended his hand. "We will be in touch soon."

Graham's eyes lit up. "I trust so." He turned to Lisbette. He took her hand is his and held it. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Lisbette." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I'm sure we will be seeing each other again."

Lisbette watched him leave. She felt her heart flutter and her cheeks flood with prickly heat. It was a sensation she was getting used to and she liked it.

Patrick looked at his daughter and realized just how much of a woman she appeared. She wasn't a tomboy anymore with dirt on her face and missing baby teeth. She would soon be a woman, a married woman. He offered his arm to her and she took it as they left.

Whether he liked it or not, he would have to give his daughter up. The only question remained was whether she'd forgive him for it…

***About Eyubea Girls****

Graham Tate-Fuller needs a wife. Not just any wife. One who is young enough to take on his education mission to the African continent and not ask too many questions about his past. Lisbette Caldwell is just seventeen, a young woman who isn’t ready to give up her tomboy ways. She dreams of playing football and becoming a teacher just like her father. Through a series of circumstances beyond her control, Lisbette marries Graham and embarks on an adventure in Eyubea, a small independent township in southern Africa, which managed to escape the colonial rule that overtook many other African nations.

There Lisbette settles into her new life as an assistant teacher to a small group of young girls who will have no choice but to become wives and mothers. Its a simple enough task that will turn into a fight for their lives as Graham's past catches up to them and Lisbette faces the dark side of marriage in a land not her own.

Set in the early 1900's, Lisbette is forced to take a stand for herself and her Eyubea Girls against stacked odds, even if it means losing the life she's come to love. With the help of new friends and a will to carve out her own place in the world, she searches for a way to live life on her own terms in a place she will come to call home.

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If you want to hear more writing tips check out the Cover 2 Cover radio show here.

Guest Author Post: Andrea Perno talks more on World Building in Novel Writing (plus excerpts)

If you build it, he will come. ~Kevin Costner.

                World building in novel writing: How important is it? How, where, do you even begin? If you’ve talked to me…and I mean really talked to me. More like talked me into telling you my “crazy,” you’ve probably heard me say that my characters write the story. That’s true. I don’t write it. Not any more at least. I may have started the story off with a neat little concept and designed a somewhat familiar setting as a backdrop for my characters to play in. Ultimately, when they show up, they take what loosely woven strand of fiber I’ve picked (tangled rat’s nest depending on your interpretation) and run with it.  

                That being said, once you’ve decided your genre and you’ve got that “big bag of crazy” that is the beginning of a kick ass novel, there are two main things I feel every author should consider while world building.

                Number one: This is probably the most important in my opinion. Whatever the genre is, creating a believable world is critical. A story is not a story if it’s not believable. You, the author, have to be able to creatively craft a world that can convince a reader to suspend disbelief enough to still be present and fully engaged with the tale being told. That’s a hard thing to teach, a hard thing to learn and an even harder thing to put into practice.  

                Readers are smart. They’ll know when you haven’t done your homework. When you’ve built a world in the sixteenth century but your characters are magically talking, behaving and wearing a t-shirt and shorts like it’s present day twenty fifteen. Writers have to be smart when creating a world. The small details, things like culture, climate, race, history, social classes, food, are important to consider. Readers will know when you’ve left gaps. Or worse, when you’ve tried to plug those gaps with things that don’t belong. Think of your readers’ like that damn kid at the beach. You know the one I’m talking about. The one that no matter how well you think you’ve fortified your elaborately built sand castle with sharp shells and sea urchin quills…that little bastard is going to mow it down like the line backer, Terry Tate if you turn your back and leave an opening. In the case of world building and novel writing, that’s the dreaded plot hole. 

                 Just like your characters should act like real, fully rounded, albeit slightly flawed people to make them seem credible. Your world and setting should also be believable. I’m not saying you can’t have crazy awesome fantasy creatures with three heads and twelve inch teeth…if that’s your thing. I’m saying your character’s reaction to those creatures has to be authentic and genuine. The setting you create should match. Think of it in terms of theatre. In the world you’re building, the structures, flora, fauna etc. are your backdrop and props. The characters interact with those things moving the plot forward, backward or in some cases sideways and upside down, all while shooting a ray gun with green laser beams. The point is you have to find a way to connect with the reader, make them feel, see, smell, even taste the world you’ve built. All while allowing your characters the freedom to be who they are and tell their story effectively. That’s not too hard, right?

                Number two: World building is like setting up a game board. I liken it most closely to the game, Risk, but my stories are Science Fiction and all about war so there may be a bias on my part. Sometimes I find it’s best if I lay out all the pieces first. For some this may mean verbally bouncing ideas off a couple of friends or making an outline. For me, it means using my art degree in its purest form and literally laying out the biggest piece of paper I can find. I go to town drawing what the world would look like. What color are the plants? What kind of wacked out sci-fi tech can I design out of tin foil and toothpicks? Where are the landmasses, native tribe homelands, military bases etc. located? Then I scribble out freakishly unrecognizable chicken scratch notes to go with it all.  I may not be able to read the notes later. Despite the fact that I can paint a masterpiece, I can’t seem to get a handle on basic handwriting. Never the less, it gets the wheels turning. I do everything from mapping out destinations, creating an idea of how long it would take characters to get from point “A” to point “B” and what physical, mental, environmental obstacles would pose hazards to their health. Doing all of this helps me get a feel for what the world is like and what my characters will endure.

                **There is a caveat that I feel prudent to point out. The process of “physically” drawing out a world in map, or whatever form may materialize, is very likely to change as the story progresses. So don’t get attached. I’ve found that you can do all the leg work you want up front, before even typing a single word in the book. You may find that your characters take your work of genius and turn it into something completely foreign from the original concept. This is OKAY. I’ve talked to a few new authors who fear this phenomenon. Don’t fear it. Be open to it. If you’ve created a great starting block, your characters will dive right into the world you’ve made for them and take it to new heights you’d never imagined.

                Whatever technique you choose to go about creating the world for your characters, remember to make it relatable. Building a believable world is crucial for their survival as much as it is for your story. Sometimes it pays off to sweat the small stuff in the beginning. After all, the devil is in the details.

Check out more on World Building at the Cover 2 Cover with Jami and Michele and guest authors Sam Odunsi Jr. and Andrea Perno radio show page here.

Excerpt from: THE LAST DROP

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, hardly recognizing myself. My dark, crew-cut hair is growing out all wrong. Even at sixteen, there’s a rough haze of stubble along my jaw and across my upper lip. I’ll have to shave before reporting. I balance my armpits on the tops of aluminum crutches and rake my fingers along my scalp, watching my hair stand on end from sweat. It would feel amazing to splash cool water on my face and rinse the dirt from my skin, but those days are gone. Water is too precious. The sink basin is dry and coated with a layer of sand and dirt like everything else in the house. I turn the knobs anyway and pretend water fills the basin before reaching for the powdered bathing substitute and electric shaver. I need to look and smell presentable today. Dad and Jeremy are returning from overseas. My older brother, Jeremy, won’t care what I look like, but it wouldn’t be acceptable for the son of a prestigious military commander and esteemed biochemical engineer to have even one hair out of place.

             The thought of their return brings a nervous anxiety, which I try to evade by pressing the electric shaver into the cleft of my chin, daring the blades to cut me. I don’t want to think about what my father will do if this mission failed too. No one on base will tell me anything substantial, but rumors say diplomacy is out the window. It explains why recruitment numbers are through the roof and why Jeremy doesn’t want me along for any missions. Thanks to him, I get another few weeks off before recruitment officers force me back into basic training. “Only had three days left, now I’ll have to start all over. Least you could’ve done was waited until I finished basic,” I whisper at the mirror.

            For just a moment, as the last bit of facial stubble falls into the sink, my reflection takes the form of Jeremy’s face. Striking blue eyes, prominent jaw line, he’s only two years older than I am, but all I’d need is a good haircut and we’d be twins. Sighing, I shift weight off my broken leg to ease the throbbing pain. The heavy plaster cast encasing my left upper thigh down is a cumbersome reminder of Jeremy’s loyalty and love, however misguided. He was only doing what he thought was best, the only way he knew to keep me on base, but he had no right.

            “You’re a smart kid. You don’t have to be a grunt. Stay put. Go to class. Get your ass on the flight list outta here.” His voice fills my head as if he’s standing in front of me. But the flight list is a joke. Commanding officers like to dangle the hope of being hand selected for space settlement in front of students and soldiers as motivation. It works…mostly. Everyone wants out of our military base, Asik. Off Earth. I’m guessing I’m the exception. I don’t hold out much hope of a successful space settlement even though people rumor that habitable planets are out there. If we can’t fix what’s wrong with our own planet we’re doomed no matter where we wind up. Jeremy would be pissed to know I requested transfer out of the space academy, though. Too bad. He doesn’t get to choose the life I lead. Brothers are supposed to protect each other. I’m supposed to be watching his six out there. Instead, I’m stranded here nursing a fractured femur.

Excerpt from: REMOTELY UNPLUGGED

            The room feels different the moment I cross the threshold and the heavy metal door closes behind me. I brace myself for the annoying computer data dump that comes with every new place I encounter. I’ve never mastered accessing it in a way that doesn’t immediately cause me to go into sensory overload. Nor have I been able to tune out the excess information like my sister insists is possible. This room, cold and starkly furnished with only a long metal table and two metal chairs, is somehow...quiet.

            “Please have a seat,” the police psychologist who accompanied me says. I ignore her request and instead take a few steps toward a wall to my right. I touch the bare surface and eye the rest of the space curiously. There are no pictures, mirrors or windows in this room. My brain should be melting down with information about where I am, the history of the building, why I’m here. Nothing happens. I’m not even downloading the waste management schematics of the building and that’s supposed to be my Civilnet job description.

            I let my hand slide down the smooth wall and fall to my side before acknowledging the psychologist. She’s meticulously folding her hunter green trench over the back of a chair in such a way to provide cushioning against the metal. I guess she thinks we’ll be here awhile.

            I watch with growing annoyance as she settles herself into the chair and applies an obnoxious bright red lipstick to her lips. If my computer chip were working properly, it would be telling me what great taste this woman has to pair fire engine red lipstick with pasty white skin and unnaturally orange streaked hair.

            I don’t want to, but I take a seat in the empty metal chair. It’s not as if there’s anything else to do in this room.

            “Shall we begin?” she asks.

            I know it’s rude, and this woman has done nothing to me, but I shake my head and roll my eyes anyway.

            “Whenever you’re ready then,” she says patiently and folds her hands on the table.

            I glance around the room again, looking for anything to capture my attention so I don’t have to talk to the woman in front of me. When I can’t find anything to look at, I rock myself back against the metal chair, letting it balance on two legs. The psychologist’s expression doesn’t change from kind and patient, which annoys me more, so I tip the chair back further. A high-pitched warning siren in my inner ear squeals. The familiar scrawl of red lettering with statistical variants temporarily obscures my vision.

            I let the front legs of the chair crash to the floor. The siren and the red lettering go away. The room suddenly doesn’t feel so quiet.

            “Civilnet will still let you know if you are in danger of being injured.” The psychologist smiles.

            “Where’s the rest of the Civilnet crap you guys fill us with?”

            “The precinct finds it easier if the rest is withheld during discussions. That way conversations aren’t diluted.”

            I nod and close my eyes for a minute, embracing the silence.

            When I open them, the psychologist is staring blankly, waiting for me to make my statement. I know I’m not going anywhere until I do but every time I open my mouth to say something, an uncontrollable anger causes me to lock my jaw and grimace instead. It’s not as if she actually needs to take a statement. If I’m plugged into the system, she can access all the information she wants. Even pull up the brutality on a fancy high-def, holographic screen as large at the wall next to me. She’s probably already watched it in preparation. No, she wants me to recount the incident so she can see my reaction. So she can see how fucked up it made me. That way she and her police buddies and everyone else in the world can justify being “plugged-in.”

            After several minutes of shifting on the uncomfortable metal chair, waiting for the psychologist to give me an out, I shout at her, “Why can’t I just go?”

            “You haven’t recounted the events that occurred on the evening of November 17, 2103,” she says matter-of-factly. Her mouth closes to a thin line. The red lipstick she’s wearing is so thick and sticky-looking that her two lips merge into one. The tip of her tongue separates them again and she says, “Once you give your statement you will be free to go.”

            “Free to go.” I nod in disgust and look at the ceiling. “Right. Free to go back to what? A job I hate? The tiny little apartment in the sky that...” I let my words fall off because I’m sure admitting I’ve thought of jumping from my 351 story balcony will get me thrown in the loony bin. And if that happens I won’t be able to go through with it later.

            “If you’re unhappy with your current occupation I’ll be happy to have someone assist you with re-examining your Civilnet aptitude scores and—”

             “Just stop. I don’t need you or anyone or anything else to help me.” The last thing I want is my aptitude scores re-examined. I can’t bear to think what new waste management hell the computation systems will puke out for me if I have my scores re-examined.

            “I feel it prudent to point out that you would not be alive today without the help of our Civilnet system.”

            “Yea, well, I feel it prudent to point out psychologists are supposed to have empathy. Maybe I’m not ready to discuss what happened.” I try to sound pompous and proper like her but it comes out more like the verbal tantrum of a fourteen-year-old.

            “You have been given the statistically recommended 6.342 days, on top of physical healing duration, to properly recover your mental faculties. If you refuse to make a statement today, Mr. Tom Rodgers will be released and re-inserted into Civilnet.” She leans across the cold, steel table between us and whispers, “What he did to you was unthinkable. Regardless of how you feel about Civilnet, do you really want him back on the streets where he can do it again?”

            She searches my face, waiting for my defenses to crack. He hurt me, more than words can describe, but the truth is, the events of that night are completely cloudy. I know I have a connection to Tom Rodgers. I know he was the one who physically hurt me. There were other people too. People I know and yet, frustratingly, I can’t quite call their names or faces to memory when I think about them. I was a part of something big. Something important that didn’t work out and even though I got hurt, I’m not sure he shouldn’t try it again.

            “You don’t need me to say it. You have more than enough evidence to put him away. Spare me the bullshit,” I tell her.

            “If it were up to me this case would be closed.” She sits back, ignoring my temper, and wipes her hands clean as if it would be that easy. “But a jury will not convict this case. The feed from the chip comes in garbled. It even freezes in places. Atrocious things are happening and a jury will see that. But a good lawyer could argue that what’s going on is fictitious and fabricated. The two of you could have been making a film, for instance.”

            “Right. A home movie where half my face is being burned off by industrial grade acid.” I scoff and touch the right side of my face. The skin under my fingertips is flawless and perfectly smooth. It’s not rippled and scarred like I know it will be in twenty-four hours when the medical test serum wears off.

            “It was unimaginable pain. Wasn’t it?” She looks at my cheek almost curiously, and I know she’s never felt pain like I have. “It must be awful for anyone to undergo such torture.”

             I swallow hard. Not sure if I should be mad at her sudden interest in knowing what it’s like to have skin melted from its bones or mad at myself for falling victim to an avoidable crime. I purse my lips. “You want me to tell you what happened?”

            “Yes.” She smiles and a smear of red slime coats her front teeth. She notices me wrinkle my nose and sucks the lipstick away with her tongue. “Tell me what Rogers did to your chip.”

            “My chip?” I say sarcastically.

            “Yes, what did Mr. Rogers do to it?” she asks again.

            My eyebrows knit in frustration. She’s supposed to be concerned about what he did to me. She’s not concerned about me at all. It’s about the chip. It’s always about the damn chip.

The secret to being an author is to simply write

If that subject line/title to this post had you clicking the link to make sure I wasn't going senile in my old age, thank you. If it had you clicking because you were scratching your head wondering what I really meant to say, well, I guess you'll be a little surprised because it was exactly what I meant to relay. People ask me all the time, how do you publish so often. I look at them, blink a couple of times to make sure I understood their question, smile and tell them 'I simply write'.

Then it's their turn to look at me like they didn't hear me correctly. That's when I explain.

One of the things I've seen authors (including myself) do is to write a couple of pages or a chapter and then go back to edit. It's a process for them and I respect everyone's process, heck I had the same process years back. The problem was it was a time vampire and kept me from publishing.

After years of working on random stories my husband said to me one day, 'your writing is a habit. It's a great habit for you but I don't ever expect it to become anything more than a habit.' Well, it was something like that. Now, out of context you might say, what? So let me explain. One of the ways I deal with pain, disappointment, past trauma, or anything that truly upsets me, I write. Its one of the first things I recommend to my hypnotherapy/coaching clients and I like to practice what I preach.

Now up to this point my very supportive husband wanted me to publish something and had removed every obstacle in my way to make this happen. What he didn't successfully remove was my inner critic until that moment when he tried to show his love and understanding by telling me it was okay if I didn't publish and kept my writing strictly in the hobby category.

Those of you who know me, know that while I understood his meaning, I took that as a challenge. If you know me, I like challenges. I enjoy championing over challenges, obstacles, and anything else that keeps me from my dreams. It's why I became an actress, singer, dancing, manager, hypnotherapist, coach, reiki master, and author. I have that personality that says, 'go for it!' and his words made me realize I was 'going for it' in the wrong way.

I sat down, did some self-reflection, self-hypnosis, and forced myself to face my inner critic (who isn't a very nice gal). In fact, in one hypnosis session I invited the inner critic to a meeting in my mind and I gave her the boot... literally had to kick her to the ceiling to get her to stop nit picking and invited a new, supportive motivator to take her place (yes, you can do things like that in hypnosis and it really can work).

For that to work I had to recognize my weaknesses as well as celebrate my successes. I knew I could weave a story but I also came to terms with my poor editing skills. I decided to take some classes to help in that arena, I also hired one of my best friends (who is an amazing author in her own rights) Michele Gwynn to edit my stories. With all the right pieces in place the only thing left to do was write.

So I did. I didn't go back and edit the chapters I just wrote. My fingers flew across the keyboard and the story poured from my mind onto the blank screen. Before I knew it, I had over 100,000 words written and realized I needed to make the book a series. It wasn't until I wrote the words, 'The End' that I went back and did a read through. What I realized as I read the words on the page was that once I removed the obstacles I could produce a pretty great story. That was when I graduated from writer to author.

Sure a lot had to happen to make it possible but the biggest thing I needed to do was write.

So I guess that's what I should go back to, but before I do, just a little peek on the business side of things (I am an author, after all).

I wanted to give a little shout out to my Ghost Connection series. It was my first adventure into writing in the first person and I'm pretty proud of the adventures Cassie has been on since I started the serial. I've been working on the third book in the series and am pretty excited about what is happening.

For those of you not familiar with the series, Cassie O'Grady is a medium. She became one when she died (and was resuscitated) at age seven from a car accident that took her father's life. From that moment on she saw ghosts. This life change messed with her psyche and she realized she got along better with spirits than living beings. Her best friend is a ghost but he has a secret that links them together on a deeper level than either one of them ever realized.

In book one of the series titled, Lost, Cassie is enlisted to help a teen spirit who was killed by her boyfriend in a jealous rage. The boyfriend is still a threat and Cassie, despite her own good judgement, is convinced to go save the girl's brother and parents from the emotionally unstable boyfriend.

There are a few twists and turns that reveal family secrets, cause heartache, and changes her life forever.

In the second adventure of the series, Death Does Not Become Her, Cassie is still healing from the tragedies of the first book when she is called in to help a college girlfriend who appears to be dead. But appearances can be deceiving. The girlfriend is actually in a coma on the verge of death unless the poison used in a ritual sacrifice that put her in the coma is discovered in time. The last thing she wants to do is help another spirit but it's hard to turn away from your destiny.

In the third book of this series (which is currently in production) Cassie discovers a ghost who is collecting souls and depositing them into a virtual city. This spiritual Artificial Intelligence is upsetting the balance of life, death, and the after life and this is unacceptable. She is enlisted to help bring down the AI's plan and meets others from the government that are similar to her.

Each book in this series is only .99 for a limited time. One Click them today and please be kind and review them. You can also get both of these books in audio. Vanessa Reynolds did an amazing job as the narrator to these stories. I wrote this series for mature YA, NA, and adults of any age. There is a sweet romance developing between Cassie and Detective Dash but it will remain low heat level. Here is the series link for Ebook or Audiobook: Ghost Connection.

Check out all my books on Amazon and one click your weekend read.

If you have time this weekend check out the release party for The Mating Challenge which is a steamy BBW shifter romance based in a dystopia future. It's book two of the Vanished Series and definitely written for the 18 and older crowd. Here's the pre-order link on Amazon... only .99

Hope you have a fang-tastic weekend.

Secrets to finding the perfect paranormal fantasy book

Paranormal fantasy is all about building awesome worlds and amazing characters that are multi-dimensional. I personally enjoy building paranormal fantasy worlds within the world we live in today, commonly referred to as urban fantasy. Other paranormal fantasy worlds are off planet and alternate dimensions. The first tip I'd give you is to decide which you prefer.

That will narrow down the field and help you get closer to your next favorite book or series. Then ask yourself if you like paranormal fantasies written in the past, present or future. All of these areas offer a different flavor and speak to specific tastes.

One of the great things about paranormal is the variety. There are plenty of paranormal or supernatural creatures out there to choose from. Everyone has their favorites. When I do fan events I'm always amazed at how different people are in just their favorite characters. Some like vampires, others like shifters (which opens a whole world of characters), some enjoy witch stories more than others etc. Everyone has their favorites and that makes today's world a wonderful fantasy adventure for readers because authors know this and offer variety... after all, it is the spice of life, right?

Now you've chosen your favorite location, time, and characters. This should greatly reduce the number of books to choose from. Book sellers offer great filters to help you find some awesome gems in the sea of books available. You can also start searching online. Entering these words into your favorite search engine is bound to bring up some of the more popular options out there.

Another great tip to finding the perfect paranormal fantasy book is to join Facebook groups dedicated to your specific tastes, check out and follow/subscribe to book blogs that focus on your favorite types of books, subscribe to internet radio shows that highlight books in your favorite genres. Find your favorite authors and follow them on twitter, facebook and other social media outlets, they may recommend other authors in their genres that are people to check out. Another great place to check out is YouTube.

Once you find a book you'd like to check out, be sure to read any samples that are available, many authors also offer samples of their work on their blogs. Checking out the sample will let you know if you like the author's style and if it grabs your attention.

If you've done all this and are still needing help lighting up your E-Reader or finding a book to run your fingers through, ask your friends and read the reviews. Once you find that awesome author be sure to favorite/like/subscribe to all their social media outlets to be sure you get updates for the new books coming out (many authors like to run giveaways around new releases and cover reveals). Keeping in touch with them in the social media arena will help keep you up to date with what is coming next.

Some of my paranormal fantasies are:

Lone Wolf Rising (paranormal fantasy adventure with romantic suspense) Werewolves among other supernatural creatures. This is book one of the Winters Saga

Book two of the Winters Saga is Vampire Princess Rising (paranormal fantasy adventure with romantic suspense) Vampires and werewolves among other supernatural creatures.

If you like ghost tales and mysteries centered around college life check out the Ghost Connection Series. Book one, Lost

Book two of the Ghost Connection Series is Death Does Not Become Her

If mystery, action, government conspiracy, and romance is your cup of tea you might like the PBI Case Files series. Book one, The Beginning

Outbreak is book two and it has all the elements listed above. In this novella the PBI team discovers the publicized acts of cannibalism in Florida is actually a break out of a mutated strain of Ebola.

In book three of the PBI Case Files series, titled Lost Plane, the team investigates the disappearance of a commercial airliner and it's 200 plus passengers. What they discover are banshees, cyborgs, and time travel...

Justice Driven is book four of this series and two of the team are kidnapped by angry Amazons sanctioned by the Gods for vengeance. The team joins forces with the horsemen of the apocalypse in order to save their friends.

These are just a few of the books I have available. Check out the rest of my books on Amazon. Be sure to favorite my page on Amazon and subscribe to this blog by email.