Want to win a signed paperback of Seeds of Hate? Enter the Goodreads contest below or join in on my Blog Tour hosted by The Book Avenue! All throughout the week of my release (July 15th – July 21st) there will be random giveaways featuring signed paperbacks and amazon gift cards.
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Giveaway ends August 30, 2013.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.
I’ve been dying to share my cover with all of you and I’m so happy this day has finally come. But before we all stare at the beautiful image (unless you scroll down like a mad man before reading, which I would do, okay go do it, we shall pause and wait for you to return….)
Back? Ok, then let’s start with some background information.
The cover image was taken by Heather Bowser my awesome sister and photographer extraordinaire. She’s working on her website, but for now you can just comment on how epic this photo is below. Continue reading “Cover Reveal”
So I dropped my first revised draft into the hands of my wonderful beta’s this past Wednesday morning and I’m already getting feedback. It’s been humbling and exciting and nerve-wracking and every other emotion in-between. As a writer, we read our work over and over and over again throughout the process and honestly a ton more during editing. When I did my final read-through I didn’t trust it, I didn’t believe it and I thought… “Everyone is going to hate this.”
Thankfully this has not been the case. I’m prepared for the haters, the naysayers, and the debbie-downers because I know books are 100% subjective. I don’t expect everyone to love it, get it or even understand it. But so far people have been and I cannot tell you how much this makes my heart soar.
This last year was full of self-doubt, the desire to give up, and the constant wondering if all this time I spent following a dream was a waste of time. But now I feel like rejoicing and I’m so grateful I said no to sleep, hanging out with friends and having a clean house 24/7 because the reward has been so so sweet. And it’s a great reminder that if it’s worth it to you, then it’s worth the sacrifice. Continue reading “Wow. Just Wow.”
I’ve been mulling over a lot of things recently, the most obvious one being my ever growing belly. Every woman who has ever been pregnant or who is pregnant thinks about their delivery. How they will deliver, where they will deliver and the big giant question mark of when will that day come?
Since this is my second go around I’m not nearly as consumed with things as I was before, but I’m also not going the natural midwife route so it changes things. It changes lots of things.
The biggest change has been people’s opinions and honestly their lack of support. Not that I had 100% support when I went natural because honestly people are life-sucking bastards and they apparently feel the need to educate you on their subjective reasoning no matter your personal circumstances. I distinctly remember someone downgrading what my experience would be because I was refusing drugs it went a little something like this… “Why go through all of that pain when it’s so much easier with drugs. I think you’ll regret doing it natural. It’s not worth it.”
And I am so done.
Done.
Done.
DONE. Continue reading “Opinions Not Wanted”
I’m roughly five months away from giving birth to our second child and although that still seems very far away, I know that I will go to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow and the day will be upon me.
That’s how quickly time passes.
In lieu of this new addition, I recently told a group of my girlfriends that I feel like I’m mourning the loss of my first child and I mean that in the most figurative way. Life with E these past two years and three months has been emotional, overbearing, joyful, exquisite, challenging and rewarding. She was my first and we’ve learned so much together on this road of parent/child and I know that I’m about to rock her world and my own.
Doing things with her now at this age is easy. It’s fun. It’s manageable. But in July my focus will change, my responsibilities will be doubled and my freedom will be squelched, until I learn to adjust to a whole new life.
I know I can do it. I know it will be hard. I know it’s what I want. It’s just the acknowledgement of the change that is equal parts exciting and intimidating.
Eliana has become my best bud, my partner in crime, my eyes to a world that’s 30 inches tall. She’s the only reason worth waking up in the morning before 7am. Pancakes taste sweeter, butterflies are more enchanting, and reading is no longer a selfish pleasure. I look at her and I see half of me and half of her father. A product of love so wonderful that I can only imagine she will be a force to reckon with in the world and I don’t hope, I know she will accomplish great things.
Readers beware! If you are looking at procreating anytime soon, this may not encourage you. So my suggestion is to avert your eyes, get knocked up and then come back when you are well into your third trimester.
This Life
“Melissa, sweetie.” Says the nurse as she looks at me with a crease dividing her eyes. “We need you to turn over on your side. The baby’s heart beat is dropping and we have to remove the stress.”
My eyes glaze over. I hear her. I understand her. My body complies with the request as I summon the last resources of my strength and shift my naked flesh onto my left hip. Pain from the beginning of time pushes it’s way through my bones. It centers at the apex of my thighs as the pressure of God almighty pours out of me.
“You’re doing great honey. Stay focused. Almost there.”
A large strong palm grips my tiny, pale hand. This reassurance is all it takes. I turn in his direction, lock eyes and the tiniest smile brushes the surface of his dark, flushed cheeks. The bright lights illuminate a salt infused drop of emotion that falls from the corner of his left eye. Time pauses. I follow its trail as it stumbles over the small beard that has developed. We’ve gone through three nurses already.
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| This is my fairy tale. |
I debated back and forth about whether or not to share both of these little writing pieces. They were done as an exercise. One is playful and heartwarming. The other is extremely personal, but very sweet.
Alas, I loved them both so I’m just going to throw them your way and see what happens. Thanks to Leslie for her brilliant mind and reminding me once more why I fell for my husband. These words have re-created two of the greatest pictures I hold in my mind.
Two Feet
I hear soft giggles and the tapping of feet coming from the living room. My husband’s deep baritone bounces off the walls. I tip toe around the corner to watch the mischief and my heart smiles.
The playful notes of salsa music float around me and tickle my ears. My hips start to swing as the beat washes over me. Hector is holding our daughter tight in his arms. Her cheeks are round and flushed, eyes glistening with joy.
This is love. This is peace. This is my home.
I join in and grasp my husband’s free hand. Time passes without a single worry or needless concern. These are the moments I live for.
Him, her, me, us. I could survive without them, but like flowers they do not flourish without the sun. What’s a flower if there is no color, no smell, no radiant life?
They are my sun. They are my heart. They are my home.
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Fearful Want
My high heels scratch across the surface of the hotel carpet. Dancing all night had ruined them. I pull my train up from behind me and shove my dress through the door.
This was it. We were here.
I swallow nervously as I take in the untouched bed, clean sheets & anxious cloud of want that descended when he shut the door behind him. I place a hand at the edge of the comforter and drag my fingertips across the white linen. Looking back over my shoulder I smile as he fidgets with his suit jacket.
He’s scared too.
I take a seat on the chair in the corner and unlock the thin straps around my ankles. Gently, I place them side by side on the floor and wiggle my toes.
My husband takes a seat on the bed, his hands aggressively rubbing the flesh across his knuckles. He looks up at me and smiles shyly. My head tilts to the right, cheeks blushing in response.
“So Wife, what do you want to do?” he says softly.
“I thought it was obvious babe. What else are we suppose to do?” I ask.
“Well, we can count the money we got.” he says with uncertainty.
“Okay. I bet I made more than you! People always like the bride more than the groom. Right?”
“Does it matter? It’s all our money anyways.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” I jump on the bed and start pouncing on the perfectly creased sheets, while kicking all the pillows to the floor.
“That dress is enormous. You can’t be comfortable. Want me to help you take it off?”
I stop jumping mid-air. My heart freezes. I wanted to be here. I wanted this, but why was I hesitating? I sit down slowly next to him. My legs dangle from the bed, too short to reach the floor. My eyes trail up his body and rest on his lips. “Okay.” I whisper.
I stand up and turn my back toward him. He runs his hand up the back of my right arm, across my shoulder blade and then finally comes to rest on the top of my zipper.
My legs begin to shake as a hungry anticipation awakens inside. His fingers pull down and the cool air tingles as it runs across my anxious flesh.
This was it.
I turn to face him as my dress opens up. I hold the front against me afraid to let it go. His hands gently grab my wrists and he pulls them away. The dress falls into a mound of snow as the heat in the room centers within his eyes.
My lips part and I smile. He is pleased. He loves me and I him. My fear runs away as his passion overcomes my insecurities.
I would’ve waited even longer for him and I’m so glad he waited for me.
Did you know that reviews have the power to make or break someone’s career? As a reader it is your right to give your honest opinion about how you felt about the book. But let me ask you this…
If the entire world had access to criticize your work blindly without ever meeting you, knowing you or caring about your feelings how would that make you feel?
Reviews are crucial to all authors and most especially indie authors because it’s their greatest form of marketing. With that being said, I’m not trying to dissuade you from being honest with your thoughts, I am however asking you to think about what you are saying.
I think there has only been one time in my life in which I sat on my knees crying and begged God to understand why something in my life had happened. Case in point the unseen and unanticipated loss of my Aunt Tammy on her 50th birthday (which also happened to be Mother’s Day). You know it’s one of those situations where your entire family is gathered in a hospital and tears are falling and you feel Empty. Lost. Confused. Heartbroken. I count myself lucky that I have only experienced such a situation once in my life and I am nearing 28.
However, recently I feel like I have been hit with wave after wave of horribly unfortunate stories involving friends and family. Some are directly connected to people I know and others are just incidences I have happened to stumble upon whether through friends on Facebook or through church etc. And for whatever reason it just seems that life as a whole keeps getting uglier. Maybe society just has a sick masochistic side that seems to get more attention than deems necessary or maybe it’s the truth and the world is getting uglier as a whole. Who knows for sure, because I don’t.
My problem with it all is that I’m sitting here waiting. I’m waiting for it to strike my house. I know, I know, that’s irrational and it’s unpreventable, but guess what IT. HAPPENS. You know that question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Well, it’s because good people don’t really exist. Sure, there are people who do less evil than others, but let’s be honest even Mother Theresa had her faults. I don’t think you can actually “good behavior” your way out of bad things happening.
So amidst writing Seeds of Hate, I took a little break and wrote something short and completely unique. I submitted it to the San Diego Writers, Ink. organization and will find out in December if it gets selected to be published or not. The basis of this piece is a foundation for another book I want to write after I’m done with Part 1 and 2 of Seeds.Again, it’s another dark piece. I can’t help it. It’s all I know to write. I don’t know why I operate this way, but it is what it is. I had a lot of help so my thanks goes out wholeheartedly for those peeps who helped me critique this piece. I’m quite proud of it and I hope you enjoy it too. Continue reading “Three Seconds Four”
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