Monday, December 31, 2012

Meet Dearg

"There is power in a name. Most of us don't give our true names freely."-Silver Hollow
design by: Najla Qamber

Sunday, December 30, 2012


Today I'm enjoying the quiet peace that comes from little to no outside interruptions. Just the simple words on the screen, the occasional discoveries of little gems such as these, and a long session of revision ahead. :) 

Saturday, December 29, 2012

SH: Character Profiles: AMIE

Qamber Designs :)
“It would be nice to report she lived happily ever after till the end of her days. But such cheap, cop-out one-liners belong to other uncomplicated fairy tales.” -Silver Hollow

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Shannon Hale's "Austenland!"

Austenland at last!!!

I fell in love with Shannon Hale's writing through "The Goose Girl," but "Austenland" was the one that really sold me. So far the cast looks perfect and I can only hope that the sequel, "Midnight in Austenland," (my fav of the two) will be brought to life quickly after this!

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Quote of the Day

“Love is not the absence of logic

but logic examined and recalculated

heated and curved to fit

inside the contours of the heart” 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Christmas Time Is Here!

Christmas time is here! 
At the moment I am so exhausted already and I know you lot can commiserate!
Brief bit of news, Silver Hollow's bookmarks are done and ready for print, thanks to the loverly Naj! 
Hang in there peeps and just in case I don't get the chance, Merry Christmas!

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Tuesday Teaser!

"My eyes stared back at the broken woman in Lissa’s mirror. I gasped when I saw how her orbs were glowing with every color. Her skin too burst wish ever moving ripples of pinks and blues and greens that pushed into softer violets and dusky orange. But her usually golden hair was lit from within, from root to end with a white light.
I wordlessly moaned and resisted the urge to smash the image of the very creature I had fought against for two thousand years.
I backed away from the lights and the mirrors until I sank against the wall behind the entrance and buried my face in my hands. My heart beat in my chest like an unceasing drum and the memory of Seid passed through my closed lids.

I ignored the whispers and fearful gazes coming from my sisters nearby. I was eldest and therefore responsible for their wellbeing. I was to set the example of obedience and had struggled to fulfill my father’s expectations. He lamented over having no sons to carry his fortune. I must carry the family legacy, he had said to me moments before.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the braids and flowers my sisters had helped arrange with mother’s combs. The coal lining my eyes brought out their almost violet shade, another one of my odd features that marked me apart from my dark featured sisters.
I ignored their whispers now. A wedge had been driven between us that could not be undone. They had spied on us, on Seid and I, on our special place. Telling father had been the worst of all choices they could have made. They did not know this yet. They were younger and since mother’s death I sheltered them much.
Now I had no choice but to join with my newly proclaimed husband. What would Seid think? Was he watching even now? Did he know? I longed for the peace I felt in his presence, in his touch. Why did nothing make sense apart from him?
Father suddenly appeared in our rooms and my sisters all bowed low in fear and subjection. His gaze met mine through the mirror. “Come,” he said in that harsh, scathing tone he had begun to use recently. The steel behind his pale eyes might have terrified me more if I had not known the Storm Maker himself.
I followed my father, my sisters trailing behind me, as one going to her funeral. I would never go to our secret place again, I told my rebellious heart. I was going to be a dutiful wife and help manage his estate, as mother taught me. I would never see Seid again for his sake. I made him weaker, he had said, after all. He was not meant to be grounded but wild as the winds over the waters. This was the only way.

If I had known my husband would be dead in less than two days’ time, I never would have agreed to father’s demands. Seid’s weakness was greater than he or I knew. His love transformed into a jealous, dangerous monster when he realized what I had done. To him, I had betrayed everything. He had already tried to save me from my father and the man to be my husband before. He had vowed to destroy them all and held back his fury for my sake.
My husband paid with his life. I never was allowed to see my father and sisters, to learn what happened to them after. For many bitter years I believed Seid had killed them as well. But time softens as much as it hardens some."

Monday, December 17, 2012

______ Mondays!

We haven't had an actual, normal post in forever I feel like. Mainly because I've been trying to round up as many goodies as I can for your exploration of SH. Tonight's mash up is book themed, consequently. 
As the new year is drawing nearer, I took not of my Goodreads Challenge and realized about a week ago that I had ten more to read. I was about five books behind! I flipped a little, just a little. And then I began on a whirlwind adventure in trying to catch up. 
I thought I'd share a few of the books I've been reading to keep up with the Jones's. 

PORRIDGE & CUCU is the poignant tale of Yamila—from her earliest memories of Panama. One major character is her ninety-eight year old grandfather, who shares with her the ghost stories of his childhood. Other characters are her grandmother, her parents, and her brother.-from Goodreads blurb

Even though I got this book for free from the group Young Adult Reads, in exchange for review, I was so impressed by Reid's storytelling. It's so lovely when you come across an author who has a new fresh voice!

A victim of a horrible crime. 
The two star athletes that share a secret. 
And the small town that must repent. -taken from Goodreads

This was a short and frightening but awesome read. It took a while for me to figure what was happening or to guess where the story was headed but I caught on quick after. And was very impressed by Lefeve's storytelling. And YAY best of all? A sequel is coming!

A Handsome Frontiersman, Mysterious Scots-Irish Woman, Bearwalking Shawnee Warrior, Dark Secret, Pulsing Romance...The Bearwalker's Daughter-taken from Goodreads

That summary about sums it up in a nutshell lol. This is one awesome read for any fans of historical romance and Native American/Scots-Irish heritage!


This novelette series has so far been super fun and campy and occasionally chilling. And so helped me fill my quota!

"Master storyteller Jane Yolen (Owl Moon, Sword of the Rightful King) and celebrated fantasy artist Rebecca Guay (Swamp Thing, Magic: The Gathering) weave a textured and lyrical tale of adventure, homelands, and heroism the hard way.Two hundred years ago, humans drove the dragons from the islands of May. Now, the last of the dragons rises to wreak havoc anew -- with only a healer's daughter and a kite-flying would-be hero standing in its way."-taken from Goodreads blurb

I adored this book! Having never read a graphic novel, it was a first rate introduction into a very interesting storytelling medium. A must read for any fantasy fan!

Etta Fleming doesn’t know she was meant to return to her true reality four years ago. After years of being the “orphan girl” in the alternate world she grew up in, she’s finally carved a niche for herself with a great job, a steady boyfriend, and a best friend by her side. 

Undeterred by the shift in the timeline, it is up to Cooper Everett and his friends to convince Etta that she is still destined to become their leader, fighting against their post-apocalyptic future.

Will meeting the ghosts of her past convince Etta that she’s part of a grander destiny? Or will her past, present, and future worlds collide? -taken from Goodreads

I love Lefeve's time traveler series. Or I should say, parallel universes and all over the place series lol. Only read this if you want entertainment, good fun, and a lot of mind twisting plot curves. 

Hope you've enjoyed sharing this journey with me. Now go and check out these awesome books. You know you want to... ;)

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Silver Hollow Tour Stop #7

Instead of the traditional outline, I wrote little snippets about characters and people/places. Here's a few about Wenderdowne. ;)

The people
: each holds unique gifts like the “angel” of her invention. They are forbidden contact with the outside world and only go into the cities for specific reasons. To protect their own interests and the interests of their own kind.

But his people/her people are not angels. They are uncertain of what or who they are exactly though some hold to different theories. Legends have come from them however, legends of the Fae, the Underground and Sidhe. There used to be more of them though they were never a large people and now they are few, isolated.

Amie’s father always craved the temptations of the outside world. He was fascinated with their culture and constantly snuck out against the rules of the Council and the watch of his much older brother Henry. It was when he learned too much about inner dealings of the Council and humans that he decided to run away. Got mixed up in some crummy deal that put a price on his head. Part of the mystery is finding out just what her father did.

Side Note: Something semi-funny is Uncle Henry could, being more knowledgeable about the outside world than most could let her know that their people are the inspiration for Tolkien’s great works and such.

Their life lines are very long. It is difficult to tell their ages from person to person. Depending on the purity of their blood and the fullness of their power, one of their oldest can seem to be only thirty and be three hundred. For example, Uncle Henry was actually the younger brother but appeared far older than his younger sibling because he inherited more a gift for knowledge and learning than the Gifts.

Weight of the Dawn

The people of the Vale find their strengths greatest during the twilight and dawning of each new day, at its height. Their power also rests with the night. And their weakest hours are those under daylight, when they are most vulnerable.

Drustan escaped the enemy with the dawn. And because Jessamiene is half blood, she is equally strong both in the morning and night, and even stronger during dusk.

The Wenderdowne’s

The family tree is one of the oldest and purist of the families. Jessamiene Adeline Nimue Wenderdowne is the last living heir to the family name Wenderdowne. Uncle Henry never having married. The manor is a jumble of many different eras of British Architecture with the underlying base of the great House being Roman in design. Seein in the dungeons it is most poignant through mosaics and the hidden tunnels.

The Servantry

Chief driver is named Slaine Cutterworthy, a man born and raised in the old country and has seen it all literally. A simple man, he is loyal only ever to the Wenderdowne’s for a reason Amie tries to constantly squeeze out of him. He will be her driver every time they venture out, namely to the fancy estate and the big ball and small village square down the hollow.

His chief assistant is named Edward (Eddie) Cutterworthy, a grand nephew who shares in his gift and uses it to fight namely. Though he appears young he is one who ages slowly and is actually older than Amie. (shame I don’t have more time and couldn’t make him the future love interest lol) He prefers not to speak, and can only speak the old tongue most people in Silver Hollow only ever speak. He doesn’t trust Henry even if he obeys him. He’s part of a group that doesn’t want their place ruled by outsiders. But when he watches Amie he realizes that she is more Sidhe than anything else and comes to respect her for it. Where before he wanted to harm her belief of the greater good, instead he wonders how he could have thought so lowly of humans. He is the one to tell Amie of the factions of their world.

The Cutterworthy Family- all inside the Hollow know the legend of the Cutterworthy family, how long ago they lived deep within the Vale itself and their blood mingled with another race. This made them outcasts, untrustworthy to the Sidhe, though their kind are eldest of almost all others. They pass on their memories through their blood, so they remember longest, love longest and hate longest.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Silver Hollow Tour Stop #5

How it Happened

At this point in our tour, I thought I would give you some insight into the writer's mind ;) 
Once I started writing Silver Hollow in earnest, I decided it would be important to keep a journal of my journey. And here is part of that first entry.

In the beginning a random fit of inspiration took hold of me one night. I saw in my mind an almost sci-fi/fantasy scene; a room without bounds and lit beneath two lovers' feet. It was the ending of the story, and all round was the memory of loss. The couple were desperately in love except they couldn't physically touch without pain. For she was human and he was not. At least, not exactly.
The moment, I wrote out and called it "Loss" for lack of a better name and filed it away like many other random fits of inspiration.
Later, I can't remember how much later, I started writing a short story for the twins, set in today's time and starring slightly altered versions of us living our lives in about eight years' time.
Playing round with a few actual events and dreams of our lives, I wrote out a "what if" story about a down-on-her-luck authoress, sunk into writing the supernatural paranormal romance bandwagon. She was stuck in writer's block and dreaming of writing real literature.
She was orphaned at sixteen, an event based on my parent's car wreck that same year in my past, only with tragic results. Amie has come to rely on her twin best friends and one of the girls' boyfriends as a replacement family.
I prepared the first few chapters, chalf-filled of our inside jokes and fun-for-me cultural/historical references.
About a month later while the three of us were staying at a hotel for a Beth Moore conference at Mandy's church, I read it aloud to Amber.
It was nearly a year later I started dabbling with it again, partly because of the twins' encouragement. I didn't think it could be a real story though, just something fun to play at.
I was still working on The Chosen at the time. And my inside joke here is that my own paranormal thriller would get published and I'd never be allowed to write anything else.
While writing this I had another idea: What if the satirical comedy actually turned into reality. In other words, Amie's almost normal life suddenly becomes a legitimate modern day fairy tale? I plugged in the ending of "Loss" and began to formulate a very loose plan.
A story without an outline has been fun to write, though unconventional. Instead of outlining events, I've only written summaries of character profiles, of places and such. But by making this world mysterious to even me, I hope to retain something new and a natural progression.
Of course you know that I'm no literary genius! Every time I stumble upon something good or great it's like seeing a black room with a flashlight as my guide. God is the One who gives the gift I believe. I always know it's His direction when it seems to "magically" fall into place.
Now fast forward to seminary. I was paired with teh truest person I've ever known as a roomie, Rebekah (Rachel Underhill) Bartley. Halfway through the semester of ten/eleven, I had something of an academic crisis. Wouldn't you know that suddenly nothing in life made sense anymore except for God and writing. Becca learned this way I was a writer instead of a school nerd academic zombie who only studies.
Problem was, I hadn't written much  she would enjoy hearing since she had such a penchant for "chick flicks" and not my expertise in Sci-fi/fantasy. To my amazement Becca loved the chapters and not only wanted to have more but learned how to love fantasy almost as much as me.
The twins loved the new draft and even Rusty (James) said, "This is probably my favorite so far."
The title of Silver Hollow actually was the title of a fanfic I'd been working on for fun. It fit Amie's story perfectly. Well, now you know how the drabble became a working novel. 

Hope y'all enjoyed that little snippet! And hope everyone who has picked up Silver Hollow is enjoying the adventures :)

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Tuesday Teaser

To read the first in our tour stops of the Silver Hollow-verse, you can check out my Tumblr account here:
Keep up through my Twitter account @JennSilverwood :)

For today's teaser, I'm pulling from Stay, my new paranormal romance novel. Hope you enjoy!

Mrs. Nguyen answered her door after the second knock when I arrived, moments later. I carried nothing with me but the purple dress and undergarments and heels. She was already dressed in a black silk dress, draped with a shimmering gold fabric. It hugged the curves she still possessed in spite of her old age. And her black and gray streaked hair was piled high on top of her head in weaves that reminded me vaguely of my mother.

Her red painted lips parted over her black stemmed cigarette and cherry scented smoke escaped with her words. “Sugar, you look terrible. Come on in. Why are you crying? It was Cain, wasn’t it? I swear if that son of a—”

“Mrs. Nguyen!” I interrupted, unwilling to hear anything against my love. “It is I who has wronged him,” I said as she shut the door and locked it behind us.

For a long moment she appraised me with narrowed eyes and puffs of smoke filling the space between us.
So I told her what she wanted to hear. “I hurt him. All I do is hurt him,” I ground out in the end and dug my nails into my palm.

Mrs. Nguyen waved the cloud of smoke away from her face and strode forward until I could see every one of her beautiful wrinkles. Then she said what I needed to hear. “Can I give you a piece of advice, sugar?”

I nodded my assent and she lifted one of my clenched palms with her free hand. With gentle pressure she relaxed my tense digits and patted my skin.

“First,” she said, “let’s fix that gorgeous face of yours.”

I waited impatiently as she sat me down on the seat before her many beauty products. After stubbing out her cigarette, she washed my face. Between hard looks and hidden smiles she applied black coal around the rims of my eyes. She almost spoke while curling my eyelashes with a sticky black substance.

Finally, while lining my lips did she say, “Sugar, it’s clear you ain’t had much time to be around these people you claim you’ve helped. My advice? Stop over thinking things. Listen to Cain. Help them, sure, but stop holding yourself back. You never know what could happen if you let it.”

She finished applying paste to my lips and began braiding my curls next. I watched our reflection in the mirror and smiled as her fingers combed through my hair. I smiled at the lines between her brows as she concentrated on creating perfection.

“You saw what happened to me yesterday morning. You know that I am not human. What you do not know is why I am no longer human. I may not be able to stay with him. If I choose to remain here I may die and the thought of leaving him…I—I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” I said between strained breathes.

Her black eyes snapped to mine instantly and to my surprise, she cackled. “Good! Glad you got that off your chest. Maybe now you won’t think so hard.”

I at last studied my own reflection and hardly recognized the painted and frightened looking woman in front of me.

“You need to go check on your boy as soon as I’m finished with you. You’re wearing that dress tonight, huh? It’s a good choice.”

I squeezed the soft fabric in my hands and frowned at the bunched smoky indigo pooling from them. “We’re going to rehearsal soon. Cain’s going to play his instrument tonight.”
Mrs. Nguyen’s hands froze above me and I lifted my gaze to find her staring at me in shock. “You, you convinced that poor boy to play?”

I gasped when she came from behind and grasped my hands in hers. My dress spilled over my bare legs. “Yes,” I hesitantly replied. I already knew Cain had not played in years. But judging from her look, this was more significant than I understood.

Her sudden smile brightened my dark mood. It was with a slap on my wrist that she said, “Good! I knew you were good for him! I knew you could do what she never could.”

I shook my head and pulled my hands out of her grasp. Clutching my dress in my hands, I then stood and walked away. Mrs. Nguyen only knew a piece of the truth. She had seen the almost human Orona, who was orphaned and alone in the world, a woman that Cain plucked off the streets and fell in love with. What she didn’t see was the goddess Cain barely knew, the foolish human girl who fell in love with the caretaker of the seas. She hadn’t seen me stand up against a hurricane or keep a cave from crushing two lovers to death. She hadn’t seen me throw myself over the ones who would have turned to ashes when the volcano erupted, or brought water to the dying in the desert.

“See you tonight, alien girl!” Mrs. Nguyen called after me with another cackle. 

Friday, November 30, 2012

Friday Fav

My friend Mel and I were talking about how "the student has overcome the master" or something akin to that saying. She made a point that there had to be a Yoda quote out there somewhere that applies to this. I couldn't remember at first and racked my brain a bit.
Finally I just went to IMDb, bless them and found a jillion quotes.
Here's the one that worked and youtube won't give because they're so freaked about copyright!

Yoda: No more training do you require. Already know you, that which you need. 
Luke: Then I am a Jedi. 
Yoda: No. Not yet. One thing remains. Vader. You must confront Vader. Then, only then, a Jedi will you be. And confront him you will. 
;) epic

And because I love Yoda period, here's something else:

oh and check this out too ;)

Happy Friday everyone!


Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Teaser Tuesday!

Here's an excerpt from my latest work. I'm not telling too much detail about it. You'll have to wait and see for yourselves :)

“He has told you at last, then?” was Wyvar’s weak reply.

Vynasha sank onto the fur rug before her hearth and rested her hand on the carved mantle. “He asked me to marry him before, but I thought he was asking because I had a choice. Now I know there is no hope.” She heard the servant sit down beside her but was too angry to look at him again. She did not want to feel guilty for snapping at him. She wanted to blame someone else for her mistakes. Because Ceddrych could have told her that this Prince’s intentions were obvious from the start.

Bitterly, she whispered, “I have made myself a sacrifice, a slave to his whim. Perhaps he gave me that book to remind me that history shall once more repeat itself.”

Wyvar hissed, “Soraya had a choice. She was a fayere princess in her land. She agreed to marry the king because she thought he loved her.”

“And did he?” she threw back.

“NO,” Wyvar firmly said. “What he loved was her power and that she would give him control over the window between our land and hers. He wanted to possess and control her.”

“Like the Prince wants to control me?” Vynasha turned to him with her tear streaked cheeks and the firelight garish over her beautifully scarred skin.

Wyvar flinched. “Master is not so terrible as you imagine. He has all of our interests at heart.”

“But he wants to possess me too, doesn’t he?” Vynasha asked, already knowing the answer. She gave a hollow laugh and said, “I have no choice but to submit, unless I can find a way out of here.”

Wyvar pulled away from her when she reached to clasp his arm. He was less solid than he should have been, but she managed to get a grip on his coat sleeve. He looked at her, incredulous. “Vynasha, there is nothing any of us can do to help you!” But he hesitated, keeping the full truth behind his sallow gaze.

“I want you to take me to the dungeons,” she said.Wyvar choked on his words, “My lady?”

“The Prince has promised to let me go outside tomorrow. After he shows me the way out, I’m going to come back. But I’ll need the sack I brought with me. It has my brother’s letters inside and a few other things I am unwilling to go without. But I cannot fight the Prince’s rule over me without help. If you refuse to aid me in my escape, at least take me to see him.”

Wyvar’s eyes widened and he gasped, “You cannot know what you ask of me.”

“I know that if I don’t get out of here, I’m either going to fade like those other prisoners, or I’m going to become the Prince’s slave. The dungeon master promised he would help me. Let us go so I can collect his promise.”

Monday, November 26, 2012

Fall Weekend

I hope everyone is still trying to work off those excess pounds you gained by turkey overdose! 
My family went to visit the farm this weekend and we all had so much fun. The best part for me was getting hours in car where I was able to work on Vynasha and watching my niece and nephew fall in love with the piney woods. 

Here's a few pics I took in my attempt at amateur photography. If you'd like to see the rest, check out on my (Sketches) tab above :)

Friday, November 23, 2012

Black Friday

People everywhere across America tonight and this morning are clamoring, climbing and clashing to get the best deals and score the biggest prize of all. Who can spend the most in one night and therefore spend the least on Christmas??? 

I was kindly invited to join a friend of mine with her family on their BF outing this year. I was gung-ho about it, until I cleaned our house upside down enough to be renamed Ms. Clean lol. This year my mother and I somewhat compromised. She cooked and I cleaned. While we slipped occasionally into one another's spheres the system worked out well for us. And our small cluster of a family gathering was warm, full of laughter and life updates. We never went around a table to give thanks, just were happy to be together. We watched old film reels from the sixties (parents and g-parents gen) and drank coffee and had homemade pecan and pumpkin pie. While not all our family could make it this year, I think I almost prefer a smaller crew to the usual chaos. Double-pro? Half the usual clean up!

So now we get back into why I declined on my BF shopathon invitation. My body, even though I'm at my physical "peak" right now in life, was sending me constant warning signs throughout the day that joining the madhouse might be pushing it. 

What did I do instead? Went to Amazon of course! And Hot Topic, because let's face it, you're never too old to find an awesome T-shirt there. All their tees were ten bucks and I racked in a couple of them. At Amazon, I found a USB that's a requirement for classes I'm joining up with this spring. And several other close fam gifts. That about sums my Christmas shopping. I'm quite content with regifting, digging from my pile of already prepared future gifts (yep, got one ;), burning CD's, writing little short stories and sketching pieces for the rest of them. 

Oh and let's not forget!

Hopefully, by Christmas, you can all have your copies of Silver Hollow in paperback! Once Najla is done with the template we're set to publish through Create Space. But I'll front more news to y'all when I can. 

In other stay classy San Diego, I'm Ron Burgundy??

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Teaser Tuesday!

Another teaser day! I'm excited to give y'all a slice of Vynasha, my NaMoWriMo novel. It's a dark Grimm-esque take on Beauty and the Beast, but not like any you've likely read before. Other than that I won't betray the plot, you'll just have to read for yourselves ;)

A door was crushed into its frame in the distance and the sound jerked her from her morose musings. Vynasha gasped and forgot to tame her breath. There was a brief moment of terror, when she realized she was alone in a place she had never been before, at a very inconvenient time of night.

The Prince’s words rang in her head like bell, “So too are there creatures I do not understand that haunt even my own domain. You would do well to heed my warning.”

Vynasha had long ago fallen out of the habit of stupidity. Living alone in a cottage so near the forbidden north wood gave little allowance for it. Quick as she could cry out for help a bear might lumber out of the woods and maul her to death. A misplaced swipe of her axe could result in a missing appendage. And as she learned the hard way, there were no real cure for burn wounds, no one to pass her ointment for the splinters she earned building her cottage. Trying to build one from scratch was so frustrating, she had spent the better part of the season living in she and Ceddrych’s hiding place in the caves.

One thing she was certain of, as she found herself alone and at the mercy of anything that wanted to snatch her up, she needed to keep moving. She could scarcely forget the beast that stalked her during her first night here. And, because of her impulsiveness, the only weapon she had was tied to the garter about her ankle.

Using her hands and her other senses, she tried to find the route back to her room. Though the thought crossed her mind that even if she did return in one piece, would the door be unlocked? Everything felt sharper and rougher to her hands as she tread through a darkness so thick she felt it parting around her, enclosing and consuming her.

After taking the necessary turns and listening for any more ominous sounds below, she felt this journey was taking too long. Every time her inner mettle was nicked, she forced her mind to remain calm and collected.

The enclosed hall opened up abruptly to the greater passage, where unseen eyes watched her movements. The whispers began again, accompanied by a creeping sensation at the base of her neck. She had plucked the knife from her ankle with hardly a second thought, knowing it would do little to the spirits haunting this place.

Twenty steps soon became fifty, and then another score of aimless wandering that brought her no nearer her destination. Every time she started to panic she squeezed the mettle of her blade just a little too tight, just to keep her mind in the corporeal.

Another distant crash disrupted the flurried whispers and Vynasha froze. She strained to see what she could not fathom and cursed her stupidity once more.

She jumped as a heavy thud hit something in the rafters above and nearly growled at herself to keep moving. No self-respecting prey would just stand there waiting for the beast to pounce. And she was determined to be the hunter this night, the monster waiting from the veil of shadow.

Fighting the urge to reach out and clutch the walls, she relied on the difference in pressure against her ears, clung to the wind whistling through the cold passageways. When she made another turn, the whispers ceased and all spirits waited with baited breath for what happened next.

Vynasha fought the urge to cry out when the heavy tread of something began to shuffle its way towards her. She thought of turning around and running, or trying to open one of the many doors in this hall, without care to what might be waiting on the other side.

Still she could feel its presence, looming closer, could hear its heavy inhale as it caught her scent. She could do nothing but moan like a pathetic weakling when a large pair of glowing golden eyes appeared closer than an arms breadth away from her.

Too late she ducked, avoiding the first swipe of its paw. She rushed the beast instead and pushed her dagger past its thick shaggy fur until it was hilt-deep in its chest. The roar she heard as she slipped past and ran away shook the stone beneath her feet. Her arm ached from the force needed to shove the old mettle into its gut. She could only hope she had struck true and deep enough that it would not be following her for long.

The roars continued behind her, until it echoed as though from a great distance. Relief filled her bones as she realized she might have a chance. She likened herself to an animal caught in a trap or a corner. Sooner or later, that prey would turn on its captor and strike back. Only the pounding of her heart could be heard as she felt the air shift and open around her. But her hand reached out too late for the railing of the winding staircase she was expecting. Her foot slipped on the edge of the marble steps and then she was falling. Every blow of the stone against her body sent shocks through her skin and blood to the surface. She had enough sense to cover her face with her arms and hope and pray she would eventually stop rolling.

She reached out her hand to catch her fall and nearly cried out with relief when she managed to grasp something hard and secure, something warm. She tangled her fingers in the rug’s thick threads and felt her body extend below it, then stop. A muted laugh escaped her lips that quickly turned to a cry when a gust of hot air blew into her upturned face and a pair of angry golden eyes leveled with hers.

Suddenly, the pain in her body was intensified by the pressure of sharp claws that pierced her bodice and lifted her off the ground. Vynasha forced her eyes to remain open and fixed on her soon-to-be killer and waited for the blow to come. How the beast had caught up with her, she did not know, but she felt for certain the end was near. Her heart cried for the brother she knew was still alive. But a selfish part of her damaged soul longed to be reunited with the rest of their family. She had escaped death so many times before this. Perhaps this was best, after all, that she die the most gruesome and horridly.

For an infinitesimal moment those solid golden orbs stared unblinking. She was pulled into them and glimpsed flashes of the animal in their black iris. The claws dug into her flesh but then, to her amazement, they retracted and she was crushed into a furry chest. Something hot and sticky seeped through the skirt of her dress as the beast descended the stair. To her amazement, the hilt of her dagger was still protruding from its chest.

She commanded herself to stay awake, though the temptation to fade to oblivion would have been a much easier way to cope with the pain. She clutched her fingers into the thick tufts of fur and concentrated on the creature’s great heaving breaths as he carried her. Every bound and leap the beast took sent fresh waves of needling pain through her body. She settled for the strong likelihood that her life might have been prolonged, but soon it would be over.

The beast slowed its gait, shifting to side step something she could not see. Stone shifted and grated against itself around them, and then they were traveling down more steps, deeper. All sense of time and distance became lost to the rapid yet constant lull of the beast’s heart.

Monday, November 19, 2012

______ Mondays!

 Here we are! Another Monday and another week, only this one is part of that mad house, fun, rootin-tootin time known as "The Holidays." I hope everyone has their Thanksgiving preparations ready! 

I'll save my big "thanks" post later this week, but for now, I wanted to share a couple of cool things I've recently uncovered. 

First of all, Silver Hollow has been steadily between the 11K-13K ranks on Amazon's best sellers this past week. My love goes out to all of you who have either purchased, downloaded, reviewed or blogged about my first novel. :D 
As my little gift to you, I'll be hosting a couple of giveaways (besides the one for Saga Berg's "Nordic Fairies" already posted at the bottom of my page) for the paperback version and bookmarks designed by Najla Qamber. So stay tuned! 

Secondly, I seriously want to see Anna Karenina. It's looking to be an artistic film a' la Moulin Rouge. Have a gander!

Book wise, I've been reading "The Bearwalker's Daughter" by Beth Trissel. It's the story of 
a woman of mysterious origins and a man who may hold all the answers to her questions. Takes place in Kentucky in the late 1700's. Is fast paced and a delightful read. :)

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Missing part of Chapter 1 (oops!)

Things have been going great with Silver Hollow lately :) Thank you thank you to everyone who has read or added this book to their list! 
I was reading through myself tonight when I caught a major blunder that messes up the first part of the book lol. Figures, right? Well I hope you make allowances since I am new at this. I went back and added it, and Kindle should have the updated version available to you. If you're too lazy to that at the moment, I'm posting the last quarter of Chapter 1. 
Somehow, in the mad haze of trying to publish, I did not get everything on there. So here it is in full! 
Thank you for your patience :)

Must have hit my head harder than I thought…

He stood first but offered her no hand. “I do not always look where I am going.” There it was again, that thinly veiled amusement.

She stood, soggy papers clutched to her chest, eyes narrowed. It didn’t ease her temper when the top of her head did not quite meet his chin and she was forced to glare up. “Well you should have thought of that before you saw me running down the street!” Gritting her teeth she made to walk past him. She hated his odd-almost-British-accent anyway.

Can’t run from it no matter how hard you try…

“What’s that you have there?” he said, motioning to the thin key clutched in the hand currently holding the papers to her chest.

Amie froze, knuckles white against the old metal. She had already been imagining how it would look after a good polishing. It was almost as if the man had read her thoughts. Against her will she took in his open curiosity. Sighing, she answered, “Found this under my papers.” Shifting the stack to the crook in her arm she held up her palm, displaying the key for his inspection. “See? Just a key.”

His eyes flickered back and forth from the key to her and a ghost of a grin shadowed his face. “Interesting,” he said, leaning forward as if to grab it.

Amie shrugged, denying the fact this was potentially, at a glance, the oldest key in her collection. “Just a piece of junk,” she said, enclosing the metal within her fingers. She couldn’t help the fact he had shifty eyes and she didn’t trust him. Her chapters slid against her side, reminding her she was already running late.

Mr. Englishman carefully tucked his smile back into place and clasped his hands behind his back. “Please miss. Is there nothing I can do to make amends? I see I have ruined your morning. Perhaps some…”

“No thanks,” she interrupted, “I think you’ve helped enough.” Their eyes met again and she was struck by the contradiction. This Britt hardly looked like the gentleman he was trying to be. And Amie had had more than enough of his sarcasm and strange clothes and strange looks…and that messy black hair! Didn’t the man own a comb? He even had the nerve to bow his head to her like some period-film bloke!

What the deuce?

“Very well then, if you are certain?” he said.

“I am.” She checked her wristwatch.

9:30 a.m.

“I’m late. Sorry if I don’t ask for your name and let you ruin the rest of my day, sir.”

 “It won’t happen again I assure you milady,” he said with a grin. Polite to the end and surely making fun of her, she ignored him and ran away. The wet pages were likely the end of her all too short career. And when she looked back down the square to find the cause, the strange man was nowhere to be found.

She managed to find the post office seconds before the rains broke free, showering the carefree world she’d breezed past in a veil of day-lit darkness. As Emilio the Xerox guy got to work on faxing her pages for her, Amie studied the key and thought of her string of bad luck that morning. It hadn’t been written in the weather, but somewhere in her gut the feeling persisted, like a permanent bad feeling. At least she’d found the key. It was heavier than she had realized the end curving and shaped into an oddly familiar Celtic shape.

With her free hand she clutched the ring on the necklace hidden beneath her shirt and froze. The symbol on the key was the same as on her ring. 

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Tuesday Teaser!

Quick Note: Thanks to everyone who has either purchased or helped spread the word about Silver Hollow! For all of you book bloggers out there, I'm always available to do interviews, guest posts or anything else that will help bring you press too. :) 
So excited to continue on this journey with you!


Today's Teaser is taken from the novel I've been working on, "Stay." It's a paranormal romance but it's also something of a study on love. Hope you enjoy :)

Mrs. Nguyen’s gifts had been tossed inside the apartment the other night and left in their bags. Grateful as I was, I had not given much thought to them. Cain must have seen the bags and remembered. I reached up to hide my smile behind my fingers when I saw him pulling out lacy and shimmering fabrics, undergarments and dresses.

He was muttering under his breath as he moved them from one pile to another and stilled on a blood colored dress. He reached up to grasp his hair with his free hand and I leaned closer to hear him whisper, “—that crazy old bat is trying to kill me?”
“Why would a bat try to kill you?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Cain jumped and twisted around so quickly he began to wobble. Trying to hide the red dress behind his back was not helping him keep his balance. I laughed aloud when he fell onto his backside. He grimaced and held up the dress like it offended him at first. The lines about his eyes smoothed, however, when I crossed my legs beneath me and joined him before the piles.

“What are you doing?” I asked while resting a hand on his knee.
Cain’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes shifted back and forth between the piles of clothing and me, like an animal caught in a trap. Finally he held up the red dress Mrs. Nguyen had made me try on and trade paper for. “Finding something to wear for tonight.” He wagged his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I laughed when he held the dress to his chest and posed. “Cain, those were not meant for you!” I protested and reached to claw it away from him.
He easily dodged me. “You sure about that? I think this is more my color than yours, babe.”

“Cain, please do not wear that. Mrs. Nguyen gave a lot of green paper for that one!” I cried and stood on my knees to grip his broad shoulders.

His composure finally broke then and a brilliant white grin split his face in two. “Well you sure ain’t wearing this to the club tonight. Those guys were salivating all over my girl last time. I’m the only one who gets to look at you like that,” he said with a wink.

I frowned and sank back onto my haunches, crossing my arms over my chest after. “What do you propose then?” Keeping a frown on my face was hard when his blue eyes lit up like that.

After scooting back to better display his work, he held up a finger and said, “Before you judge me, try and see this from my perspective. I’m a slightly stronger than average dude, granted. But I’ve also got this really hot and sexy foreign girlfriend and while I’m appreciative of that fact, it also makes me a little bit paranoid.” He stuck his tongue slightly out the corner of his mouth while digging through the nearest pile in a childlike manner. “Here I bring you Exhibit A.”
The dress he held up before my eyes was one of my contributions to Mrs. Nguyen’s gifts. I had picked out the blue color while she chose the style. The neck scooped down, though not quite so dangerously as the garments piled together in the untouched heap.

I reached out to feel the fabric and smiled at him. “I love this one. But I am confused. What has you so worried?”
He threw up his hands and the dress in the process as he said, “She doesn’t even know… Didn’t my neighbor pick at least one decent get up? I’ve been going through all these clothes trying to find something that isn’t going to distract me on stage.”
I scrunched my nose when he fingered his mother’s shawl and threatened to wrap me up in that instead. But then I remembered everything he had said and was left unsaid. Hope and dread filled me as I asked, “On stage? Are you…did you…”
Cain shrugged as he reached for another sack and dug to reach the bottom. “I may have called Jude earlier and told him to sign us up.”
Pausing for only a beat, I then asked, “What about your work at the site?” His gaze traveled over me in a way that made me strangely self-conscious. My fingers began to tug at the tattered hem of one of his old tee shirts.

“They don’t need me today,” he said. “We’re going to the club early to practice. I haven’t written much lately, so I’m going to wing it and see what happens tonight.” His search at the bottom of the last bag halted when I heard the brush of fabric against plastic. Lifting a quizzical eyebrow, he tore his gaze from me and looked at the purple fabric he had just pulled out.

The underlining of the dress was a smoky purple, the same as the skies after a storm and draped with other sheer and glittering fabrics. When Cain shifted to his knees and leaned to drape it across me, his sea blue eyes turned a smoldering gray.
“What about this one?” he roughly intoned.
“I like it,” I replied, then closed the space between us to kiss him.

Monday, November 12, 2012

That Girl Reads: Cover & Blurb: "Silver Hollow" by Jennifer Silverw...

So excited! A new friend of mine "That Girl Read" just posted about the cover of Silver Hollow and I thought I would share :)

That Girl Reads: Cover & Blurb: "Silver Hollow" by Jennifer Silverw...: I just have to say I absolutely love this cover! It's so frigging pretty! And look and her dress. I want it.  * * * Amie Wentwor...

Friday, November 9, 2012

Silver Hollow is Published!


I am so ecstatic to announce that Silver Hollow is now available on Amazon Kindle!
I've started an even through Goodreads HERE where you can join me in launching my first full-length novel. Over the next month I'll be doing a giveaway, as well as publishing the print version of this book through Create Space. Thank you all so much for all your support and advice. 
See you in Wenderdowne ;)


Silver Hollow Teaser #5

Though I already posted this teaser on my website. (Trying not to repeat myself too much here!) I thought this final teaser would be appropriate for the launching of Silver Hollow! (finally, whew lol) I want to thank everyone for having the patience in listening to me jabber on about this for the past year or so. 
Thanks to everyone, but to God most of all for sticking with me even when I was a self-absorbed authoress! 

The windows Amie passed on her mad dash back to her rooms betrayed the first glimpse of dawn. How her bare feet managed to take her back without getting splinters from the fallen wood beams or getting lost, she didn’t have time to dissect. Amie darted past the shadows, relieved when the West Wing was nearly behind her.

Home stretch, Wentworth! You’re almost there and you didn’t even last a week in track.

She grinned, touching the end of the feather sticking out of her robe pocket. This was her biggest mystery and most intriguing find. She wondered if any of the books Henry had put in her bookcase could shed some light.

Amie squinted and gasped when the distant candle light winked out of existence. The corner shadows literally moved to stand in front of her, blocking her vision. Confused and more than a little freaked out, Amie decided to just plunge through the gap. It had to be a trick of the eyes. She’d been awake most of the night, after all.

When she impacted the shadow, she realized too late it was hard as a brick wall. Within seconds she was flipped onto her back, the breath knocked out of her and the candelabra pooling wax onto the floor beside her head. She was too frightened to shout, flashbacks of the night she was attacked penetrating her mind. So she flinched when the shadows shifted and drew into her candle’s light to reveal the impression of a face.

Amie threw up her hands and scrambled backwards when the shadow reached to touch her. “Don’t come any closer! Get away from me!” she hissed, afraid to scream and wake the house. A part of her was still convinced this was a figment of her troubled imagination. Shutting her eyes, she willed the spirit to flee, then froze in terror when it spoke.

“Forgive me for startling you. I only intended to be certain ye were real, flying about the castle in yer nightdress as if ye had all the golems of the world at your back.”

“Your voice…” she whispered, blinked up at the source of the deeply masculine voice. “I feel like I’ve heard that before.”

When he chuckled at her words she frowned, so he explained.

“I’ve been told a great many things by maidens far uglier and others with only a reflection of your true beauty, but never this. Tell me,” he said after a tense pause, where she focused on the reflection of her candle’s flames dancing in his black orbs, “what reason should a blood-filled woman have in the West Wing this night, lest she be a wight?” He was mocking her yet her curiosity won over her frustration.

“What’s a wight?” she asked and could have sworn his eyes shifted colors, from black to red to silver and then brilliant blue.

“A walking specter, milady, doomed to haunt its resting place forever.”

“I’m not a wight,” she said. For a long moment he said nothing, only peered intensely over her, until she felt the blackness would swallow her whole.

“Then neither am I, Jessamiene Wenderdowne,” he whispered, drawing back into the darkness. Amie’s heart was pounding, her blood racing. He shouldn’t have been able to leave so quickly. There were no other rooms past hers, no alcoves she had uncovered, or hidden passages to escape into. Yet as soon as his whisper was nothing more than a memory and his face had left her candle’s glow, she knew she was truly alone.