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.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Silver Hollow Teaser # 4

In the spirit of "truckin' along," here's the next teaser for this week. I'm working on getting last minute things squared off but soon you'll be seeing in all caps PUBD! lol

The letter she left at her apartment wouldn’t be good enough, she knew, but it was the best she could do on short notice. She had even called her agent and editor to let them know her sudden plans in case anyone wanted a turn at sleuthing. It wasn’t like she could wait for Faye to come to her apartment. She would have missed the time of the flight Uncle Henry had booked. Trying to explain to Faye in person would have risked too much. The twins didn’t know about Uncle Henry, or his letters. They didn’t know the “almost mugged before pepper spray” story was a lie. Not yet, that was. Frustration toward her Uncle grew. After all, there wasn’t any getting around, “Remember, talk to no one. Trust no one.”
The trust factor was understandable. Amie barely managed to trust her own agent and editor to get her books out there. Since her parents’ car crash it was a natural inclination for her to be cautious of strangers. But how was she supposed to cross the Atlantic without talking to a single soul? Keeping silent so far had made her feel like more of a foreigner than she already did.

Amie had never gone anywhere on her own in all of the ten years they were a makeshift family. Always one of the twins made themselves her designated chaperone. If Amie had learned not to trust after losing her parents, her best friends learned to be even more paranoid. Nothing could keep them from protecting their little nucleus. Two days ago she would have never left them in the dark, not after everything they had done for her.

The green eyes staring back from her mirror widened as her scar chose to suddenly ache. A chill lay thick on the new skin, piercing through her supernaturally mended heart. Fathomless black eyes hovered in her memory. She could almost still feel the cool blade of the knife and smell the pungent stink of her own blood.

Shoving the compact back in her saddlebag, Amie leaned against the headrest and watched the sun set over a horizon so different than the one she had left. Would she feel safe with her uncle at Silver Hollow?

Doubtful, Wentworth…
Whatever twisted place her father came from was bad enough he had reinvented himself just to cut ties. Growing up she had been used to her overprotective parents, though it was generally Dad calling all the shots. He had rarely let her spend time apart from them unless it was with the neighbors.

Her hand crept to absently trace the long white scar hidden beneath her t-shirt.

Uncle Henry’s letter had the tone of a man in fear of his safety. And it wasn’t a white tattoo she had etched across her chest. She knew she was in deep. Whatever mob war she had been swept up in she wanted no part of. But, much like the Godfather, once she was in she had a feeling she wouldn’t slip out. At least not without a bullet through her head. 

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Silver Hollow Teaser #3

Keeping up with my goal of giving y'all some decent teasers ;) here is number three! Remember, on my website (link above) you can read a completely different set of teasers.


The signal for the captain’s final announcements followed the click of seatbelts and her concentration was broken again. Until this most recent interruption, Amie had found her words finally beginning to freely flow. After a solid three weeks of writing worthless garbage it was like a breath of fresh air to write so easily again. It was laughable really. Of all times, of all places, her writer’s block had to end in the middle of a very early mid-life crisis.

“Thank you for flying British Airways. Please keep your seatbelts locked until the sign goes off. Place all rubbish in the receptacle as your flight attendant passes your isle…” 

Amie silently grumbled as she packed away her laptop, ignoring the amused smirks from the stodgy business suit beside her. The balding Brit had attempted more than one conversation during their purgatory of a ten-hour flight. She popped peanuts instead, wishing it were a hefty dose of her prescription sleep meds.

“Hope it’s not too damp out,” the middle-aged Brit grumbled, peering past her through the half closed window she had propped against.

With a roll of her eyes at his obvious request she slid the plastic screen up to uncover their view outside. Following his gaze, she gaped at the source of their turbulence.

Umbrella…she hadn’t packed an umbrella.

“Hope you enjoy London.” He offered one last salutation in a faintly biting tone, before buckling for the bumpy landing.

Brits were all the same, their dedication to dental hygiene aside. Her father had been a master of words, saying one thing while meaning the opposite. Something as trivial as a hello could convey a dozen meanings. So while John Thornton in seat AC4 had a smile plastered on his face, he really meant, “Have a nice life, you bint.”

It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t pretty enough to join at the pub later.

Amie shuddered at the rain pounding against the thick Plexiglas. Hopefully the train station was close by. She hadn’t had time to plan much in her rush to meet the deadline on Uncle Henry’s plane ticket. Truth was, she would have rather shaved off the thick mane now frizzed about her head than spend five pounds she didn’t have on a new raincoat. 

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Silver Hollow Teaser #2

Here is number two, all part of the build up to publication. 

The hour before dawn found Amie pulling her car round the back alley. Through the gloom and decades-buried waste behind Pat’s Delights was a narrow strip leading to the back staircase leading up to her flat.
The stranger’s face came unbidden to her as she gathered her things and moved her weary legs. Black eyes set deeply in a shadow-drenched face haunted her, eyes which seemed to accuse and praise, sift and wonder. Now that she knew, she realized she must have seen him before today, maybe even in the past she had tried to forget.
The faded yellowing parchment marked with heavy black ink, with words too absurd to be true, flashed in her mind. Clutching the key hidden in her jeans pockets while digging through her purse for her keys, she remembered Uncle Henry’s letter. Mulling over the words, she once again recalled how angry she had been ten years ago after reading his first note. So what the cops were uncertain how the accident had happened. So what her father had known some powerful people. Amie had been primped and pushed into the upper-class social sphere through her teens and knew how to handle that sort. She could take care of herself just like she always had. She would tear up the letters and the tickets tonight. The twins and James were her family now.

As she placed her shoe upon the first rickety metal step, two thick and powerful hands grabbed her in the same moment.

It happened so quickly she forgot to scream. Dropping her purse she struggled, kicked and bucked against the crazy person lifting her and pulling her deeper into the shadows of the alley. And the harder she struggled the tighter his choking embrace became against her chest.

She thought at last to cry out, only to feel her face being smashed against a brick wall. She gasped as the figure suddenly pushed her aside, out of his embrace. Amie stumbled back and nearly tripping over a metal pipe. She righted herself only to come face-to-face with the black-masked figure. His brilliant blue eyes blazed into hers, now filled with unmistakable purpose. Too late she realized his intentions as a sickeningly cool object was plunged into her chest and pulled quickly out again. 

Monday, November 5, 2012

Silver Hollow Teaser # 1

We're finally back from Mississippi and I'm already missing my fam something fierce. But guess it's good to be back home. Makes me want to pick up and take off, though. Sort of like the main heroine in Silver Hollow. I'm really close to having this one published peeps and thought I'd devote this week to giving y'all some awesome teasers. There will be more on my website!
Spread the news about Silver Hollow when and wherever you can!


Hours later found the center of the old barn turned into a makeshift dance floor where a few lingering guests swayed to the music. Jo looked tiny wrapped securely in James’ arms and together, beneath the dim golden lantern light, they appeared as though they had stepped from the pages of Amie’s imagination.
Comfortable once more behind the dessert table, Amie had struggled through rounds of hellos with Faye’s guests. She smiled through tired eyes as Faye, beneath the brightest lantern at the center of the floor, leaned her chin upon Ben’s shoulder. The air could have crackled with the chemistry those two sparked.

Brad Paisley crooned over the stereo. She thought she might throw up. Country music had never been her forte, or relationships for that matter. For once she felt forgiving of the Southern twang but not the sting of seeming to be the only single gal in the crowd. She didn’t ponder the mystery behind her lack of true love. Nor did she ask herself how she’d managed to avoid men in general the last three years, because it was then Amie caught sight of a familiar face among a dwindling sea of strangers. And this time she had the patience to actually look at him.

He must have spent the evening hidden in the shadows, for had he been a part of the party he would have certainly been noticed. His hair was cut short though unkempt, surrounding a square and unreadable, unremarkable face, though he stood easily a head above most of the gathering. It was his eyes, she decided, black as his hair and now trained upon her, which refused to be ignored. So different were they now than on the street before, with fresh intensity and sorrow. There was something almost familiar about this strange man’s face, veiled to her memories.

The Brit on the street…

How could she not have seen it sooner? Such a blend of indignation and surprise stole her ability to move. A good angry part of her would have liked nothing better than to stalk up to the man and give him a piece of her mind. Yet the longer she stared the more she found herself thinking of things she would rather not…of her dead parents, of mysterious letters and interweaving Celtic knots. She felt the pain of past wounds she had struggled so long to quench and patch over with stories and success.

Black orbs trained upon her, his expression never wavered but drew her in, moth to flame.

She jumped when a pair of excited hands grasped her shoulders mid-step.

“Amie! Did you see that? Please tell me you saw that!”

In one instant she felt the world shift, then time rush to catch up. The song had ended and people were making their way to their amassed vehicles. Faye’s golden face was smiling before her and the bold familiar eyes had disappeared.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Teaser Thursday!

Things got a little crazy this week, so once again I'm posting this one a bit late. I'll be going out of town again yay! This time it's to meet my new nephew nine hours away. I'm beyond excited to meet him and play with my niece and nephew. Hope everyone is having a blessed and tubular, spectacular week! 

Oh and guess what? I'm almost ready to publish Silver Hollow! I haven't built a lot of hype for this one, but it's very close to being finished. Just want it to make sure it's as perfect as I can possibly make it lol. (Much of that will be attributed to my editor RJ) So thanks to everyone who has helped me through this process/journey.

For you, here's a snippet:

Emrys sat down on the other side of the lavender flora, drew his knees up to rest his long arms on them and tore a blade of grass between his fingertips. “I should say it went better than expected,” he mused and spontaneously stretched out, crossed his arms behind his head and with a satisfied grin watched the last traces of power fizzle to cloudy skies above them.

Bitterly, tucking her wonder and fear aside, she asked, “What did you do to me?” It couldn’t have been her. One thing she knew for certain, whatever Emrys had made her do wasn’t happening ever again.
“I only taught ye how to open the door, Jessamiene. You’ll be able to tap into it whenever you want now.” He chuckled. “And sometimes when you least desire.”
Amie rounded on him. “Just stop! This is insane! None of this makes sense! There is no way on earth I should be able to do any of what I just did!” She wrung her hands furiously the moment she caught the aim of his amused orbs. Freshly sprouted vines broke from their earthy ties and clung to her hands until she shook them free.

Emrys seemed unperturbed with the fact vines were also curling amid her flowers and tearing at his clothes with prickly thorns. Capturing her attention with the potency of a snake charmer’s he said, matter-of-factly, “Unless you belong here,” supplanting what she was too afraid to admit. Emrys laughed while she denied it. “Amie, sooner or later you’re going to have to start accepting you believe more than you’re allowing yourself to see.”

“Right, next thing you’ll be telling me I have a real talent for catching flobbergidits!” She rubbed her hands together to contain the last waves of power pushing through her unconscious defenses.

“Would you be open to suggestion? Periwinkle could make use of as much help in the garden as he can get.”
Amie stared amazed at his unflinching gaze, mouth parting then snapping shut as she flung her fists at him and shouted, “I’m being serious!”

“So am I.” Emrys laughed, teetered back, and the clouds above parted to allow slivers of light to peek and illuminate his dark features into something foreign. His smile was blinding beneath the full weight of the sun. No set of features made Emrys devastating to look at, she then realized. Rather it was the set of his coal-black eyes, the sensitive twist of his mouth and all its hidden hints of expression. Deeper still ran the danger of his person, echoing of an affinity for his dark past. What disturbed her was the sense that the tightly bound danger in him might choose to unleash at any second.

Just like those bad boys Mamma used to warn you about…
“Never mind,” he said, waving aside the thought with a smirk, “you’d hate the business. Flobbergidits and their prickling needle coats and syrupy sweat. Can’t have our little princess looking like a bag of slip kippers, can we?” Easing back onto his arm pillow, he sighed and stared unabashedly at the afternoon sunlight.

Amie tried to rub away the prickling sensation beneath her skin, when her gaze fell to his neck and the scars crisscrossed over it. Gasping, she said, “Where did you get those scars?”
Emrys tensed after a pained pause, twisted onto his stomach and stood with his back to her. Tucking his chin into his shoulder, he offered, “You’re free to go now, Jessamiene. We shall continue this lesson after supper.” He slipped away with little more than a farewell and left her wanting much more.