The Music Made Me Do It.

Let me start with a confession: I’m terrible at blogging. Let me follow-up with a second confession: I love music. LOVE it. I feel like I need music playing while I do everything and anything, and I most certainly need it playing while I write. Music is life and I love to get lost in it.

“Get lost in” is not limited to my sick dance moves.

I think one of the most enviable and wonderful talents on earth is being a gifted lyricist. Consider music for a moment with me; think of the way it can move you and help you heal, and most of all, the way it can make you dream. I’ve had more inspiration come from music than I know what to do with, and in most cases I do nothing with my imaginings. I find perfect songs for my favorite television/movie “ships”, and I even build soundtracks for the novels I write. But the most special, the one that’ll reign supreme amongst all others, is what happened after I listened to an album by Darren Hayes.

What’s that? Who’s Darren Hayes? Well I am so glad you asked. If you’ve overheard and/or actively listened to any popular music since 1997, you’ll be familiar with his former group—Savage Garden. Yes, he’s the guy that crooned immortal love songs such as “Truly, Madly, Deeply” and “I Knew I Loved You”. He also went on to a solo career, for which I’m grateful, because he’s brilliant. The words, the melodies, and his voice…to me he’s as close to perfection as a music artist can get, but this post is not about my admiration, it’s about the by-product of his work.

In 2007 an album was released—“This Delicate Thing We’ve Made”. I snatched it up in an instant without preview because it was new music by one of my favorites. This dual-disc album is chock-full of beautifully written gems, songs which will evoke emotion, and others that’ll have your toe tappin’. But there’s also songs that I’m sure would make a few people think, “What’s this now?” I listened to every word and couldn’t help but be swept up into this journey Mr. Hayes took me on. Along the way, I imagined my own characters, my own wounded lovers, experiencing life and looking for their own ways to overcome hardships.

Interested in taking a listen? Click the image!

Time travel. What a thought and what a solution. If half of your life was spent struggling and hurting, would you travel back in time to fix it, knowing that you’d probably give up the only good memories you have…memories of falling in love with your best friend and understanding what true love really is?

Time travel: the detail of “Time Will Tell” that offers the reader an inside look into the ultimate ‘what if’ between two women. I wanted to take this story I imagined and jotted down ten years ago, and turn it into a romance that revolved around true love instead of the actual time travel itself. How can you have a book with time travel and not have the main plot point be traveling through time? Great question! The answer is simple: you just can. I love to write about two characters falling in love, exploring their love, being stricken with tragedy or angst, and doing their best to end up happily together. So I made it my mission to write a true romance with a hint of the fantastical, and treat it in a way that could be true to our reality. Time travel doesn’t exist…but what would we be like if it did?

One music artist released an album and ten years later I’m releasing a book that was inspired by it. Darren Hayes has since released another album which only assisted in growing my imagination and love for what can be done with words. To the dreamers out there: keep your eyes and ears open, because you never know where inspiration will come from next. Whether your Muse is singing, showing, or yelling…follow its lead.

Just shut up and do it!

2016 Year in Review.

Ah yes, 2016- a year that’ll go down in the history books as one WTF moment after the next. There have been so many unbelievable, scary moments throughout the year. The loss of life seemed unrelenting, the push for feminism and equal rights was shaken, and the future of our country has stooped to a level of uncertainty that I’m sure will never be seen again. But somewhere in there, lurking in the shadows and between bizarre headlines, beats the heart of something good.

I’ve been riding this odd roller coaster of emotion as 2016 comes to a close. I’m tore between the personal and public events/achievements that have taken place. And I’ve come to conclusion that I need to end the year focusing on the positive, the good that has happened during and come from 2016. Personally, it has been an exciting year; my first and second books were published and I wrote my third. I overcame my anxiety enough to engage and participate in situations/events I’d normally shy away from. I even pushed aside my dislike for long car rides to drive to Provincetown, Massachusetts to attend my first Women’s Week- which was one of the best experiences of my life.

I now stand at the tail end of 2016, watching the flame of its time burn out, and I think back to the person I was in January. I hardly recognize that person. Sure, a lot of the same anxieties crawl beneath my skin. I’m still apprehensive of change and do not like taking risks, but I’ve also learned this: change can be good and some risks are worth taking, even your mistakes present you with an opportunity to grow.

So now, after I’ve managed to ramble for three paragraphs, I’d like to share with you all some of my favorite things/moments from 2016. Let’s start with something entertaining and easy.

Top five favorite songs from 2016:

#5. Unsteady by X Ambassadors

#4. Can’t Stop the Feeling! By Justin Timberlake

#3. On Your Side by The Veronicas

#2. Closer by The Chainsmokers ft. Halsey

#1. Into You by Ariana Grande (All thanks to this video:)

Top three favorite movies:

#3. Captain America: Civil War

#2. Finding Dory

#1. Ghostbusters (Hell Yeah Holtzmann!)



Top five favorite books published in 2016:

#5. First Position by Melissa Brayden – This novel hit all the important romance nails on the head, PLUS there was dancing. Even when written, everything can benefit from dancing. Get it HERE.

#4. Taste by Kris Bryant – The steam is there, the chemistry is there, there’s a delightful child that actually adds to the story as opposed to just causing drama, and the culinary speak is just as good as any dirty talk. Get it HERE.

#3. Serious Potential by Maggie Cummings – This is the second book in Cumming’s Bay West trilogy. I loved the first book and the continuation is no different. I’m counting the minutes until book three is released. Get it HERE.

#2. Camp Rewind by Meghan O’Brien – Just like everything else O’Brien does, this book is stellar. But what makes Camp Rewind stand out from the rest is the emotional aspect of a main character who struggles with crippling anxiety. Don’t let that mislead you- this book is still sexy. Get it HERE.

#1. All In by Eliza Lentzski (The final installment in the Winter Jacket series. I’m not crying, YOU’RE crying!) – I have nothing more to say than I’m satisfied with how the series ended by my broken heart will never heal unless another Winter Jacket book is released. (DO YOU HEAR ME, ELIZA LENTZSKI?!) Get it HERE.


(So sad to see it end! Goodbye Hunter and Ellio!)


My favorite moments from 2016 in no specific order:

-“Upgrading” our civil union by obtaining a marriage license with my beautiful wife, Heather. It was a quick afternoon spent in court where many memories were made as I was asked to be the witness for another wedding taking place. Bizarre and hilarious- Just look at my face in the picture below.img_0110

-Opening the box when my first novel, “Fortunate Sum”, was delivered to my doorstep. I ate breakfast as I stared at it.

-The Rainbow Book Fair in NYC. It was my first outing since being published, and just displaying my book was surreal. I also got to meet a few other Bold Strokes Books authors and join in on their shenanigans. (Pictured below: Maggie Cummings, Jean Copeland, and TJ Thomas)


-Organizing and taking part in my local Pride festival. Bringing Bold Strokes Books to the locals and getting to take in the festivities at the same time was incredible. I can’t wait to do it again this summer.

-Catching a USWNT match from a front row seat and chatting with/getting an autograph from Becky Sauerbrunn afterwards.


(The BROON!)

-Attending Sky Blue FC’s opening day match against the Washington Spirit and not just getting Ali Krieger’s autograph, but having that million watt smile directed right at me. I’m still a little blind.

-Watching Ashlyn Harris play for the Orlando Pride.

-I had the opportunity to suit-up twice for my friend’s weddings. (Seems silly, but I do love feeling dapper.)


-The release of my second novel, “Life in Death”, being received better than I could’ve hoped for. It was named ‘Book of the Year’ by Les Reveur, which floored me completely. (Read the review and article here.) I took a risk when I decided to forge ahead and write a book containing such devastating subject matter, but the story was in my head and made no plans to leave. I’m glad I took that risk and I’m proud of the end result.

-Attending my first Women’s Week. I should’ve written a blog post about my experience back in October, but I was foolish and didn’t. I had such an incredible time and met some of the most wonderful women; some were fellow authors and others were their partners. I came back with memories I’ll never forget and friendships that grow dearer to me as time wears on.

-I did my first public reading EVER. I thought for sure I’d pass out and I’m positive my mouth has never been that dry, but I survived and did better than I ever expected.

-I know this is technically a repeat, but having my first two novels released this year has to take the cake for me. What an unbelievable ride.


-And finally, I woke up every day. I shared my happiness and grief with friends and family, made countless people laugh and smile, and continued to work towards being a good human I can be proud of.

I plan on spending the last couple of weeks 2016 has left concentrating on the positive, because the way you end your year is the way you’ll start your next. 2017 holds a lot of potential, and not all of it is good. I’ll stand tall and handle these things as they come, but in the meantime- I’m going to snuggle up to my wife and hug my cats harder than they like, because all I have to give is love.

I hope this encourages at least one or two people to share the good that has happened to them throughout the year. Please, don’t hesitate to share your experiences. I know I’d love to hear about them.

Peace, love, and a Happy New Year.


“Life in Death” Sneak Peek!

While I do think it is fun to just throw little teasers of my work out there, this one comes with a purpose. In my last post I talked about the construction of this book and how two separate stories come together to form one solid telling of love, tragedy, heartbreak, and healing. This sneak peek is the first two chapters, but that doesn’t mean that they’re labeled as such. One thing to look out for when you eventually (hopefully) hold the book in your hands, is the chapter titles. They’re one of my favorite details of the book. (I’m going to label them here as Sneak Peek One and Sneak Peek Two, this way it’s nice and clear without a real page break.)

So, without further ado, here’s a little glimpse into my second novel, “Life in Death”:


Sneak Peek One:

Chapter One

Everything seemed so heavy: the air, her jacket, and the way her limbs swung listlessly. The walk from her car to the front door had always seemed so short up until that day. Martha Dempsey paused for a moment and looked toward the sun. Its descent to the horizon had painted the sky a deep raspberry pink and mandarin. Almost dinnertime, she noted to herself before going into the house. It seemed too large at times and suffocating at others.

“Mom?” she called out, wincing as she heard her hollow voice echo through the still home. The hurt in her chest intensified, creating a dull thud of a heartbeat in the empty space. “I’m home.”

“We’re in the back, Marty.” A ghost of a smile appeared on her thin lips at hearing the nickname her mother loathed using, only assenting to it when Martha was sick or, as in this case, had a bad day.

Without a single thought accompanying her actions, Marty made her way through the house, stopping to deposit her messenger bag on the couch and hang her suit jacket loosely on the back of a wooden kitchen chair. In less than forty steps, she made her way from the front door, through the living room, and across the open kitchen to the back door.

“Mama!” A young girl wearing a hot-pink bandana wrapped around her head jumped up from her place on a cushioned Adirondack chair and wrapped her arms around her.

“Hey, Abs.” Marty held her daughter close and allowed herself to get lost in the feel of tiny arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. For just a split second, she believed everything was right in the world. And then Denise Dempsey’s voice shattered the comforting silence.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” Marty saw Denise’s sharp, aged eyes judging her appearance, making her feel as small as her own child in that moment. She swallowed audibly, hoping her matching green eyes didn’t hold as much scrutiny. “You should go wash up.” Marty’s mother turned on her heels and made her way back through the open screen door.

Marty looked down and tried to see herself through her mother’s eyes. Her starched white blouse was far from wrinkle-free, and her black suit pants were deeply creased from hours of sitting. The only detail of her dress outfit that seemed unblemished were the loafers, ones that had stayed in their box since she had received them last spring for her thirty-fifth birthday.

“I guess I do look pretty terrible, huh?” Marty looked into her daughter’s sparkling brown eyes and laughed as the little girl shrugged in response.

“I’ve seen you look worse.” Her arms were still around Marty’s waist, a serious expression twisting her tiny features. Marty laughed in response.

“Thanks, Abigail, I feel better already.” Marty lifted her daughter over her shoulder and let Abigail’s giggles improve her mood. She carried the small girl into the kitchen and sat her on the granite countertop. The deep indigo of Abigail’s jeans contrasted with the creamy ivory of the expensive stone. Marty looked at the light pink schoolgirl top and eyed her daughter suspiciously. “Did Grandma dress you this morning?” Abigail nodded. “Is this a new shirt?” Marty flicked at the rounded collar, a choice Abigail would never make on her own. Abigail nodded again and started playing with one of the many buttons that lined the front of her shirt.

“Leave the girl be, Martha. She liked it this morning when I showed it to her.” Denise wiped her hands on her apron. Its sunflower print was almost too cheery but did little to obscure her matching pink top with rounded collar. She looked again at Marty, this time over the edge of reading glasses she used mostly to secure her chin-length red hair off her face. Worry lines started to crease her forehead. Marty excused herself before she could ask anything.

“I’m going to go change.” She turned back to Abigail. “Abs, help your grandmother set the table.” She grabbed the little round face and planted a sloppy kiss on her warm forehead, lingering for a moment to inspect Abigail’s temperature before releasing her and heading for the stairs.

Upstairs, Marty riffled through the drawer that held all her fluffiest attire. Every pair of sweatpants she owned, every thermal, Henley, and worn sweater was folded neatly beside the others. She ran her fingertips along each row, feeling the soft comfort of old materials tease her skin. Her awful day was worthy of her oldest, most comfortable sweats and a threadbare T-shirt with Princeton written proudly across the chest in crackled screen print.

Marty avoided every mirror in her bedroom and kept her head down as she washed her hands and face in the bathroom. She knew she looked atrocious, tired, and drawn. She didn’t need a vivid reminder at that very moment. Her mother was downstairs waiting for an opportunity to do just that.

Marty moved slowly down the stairs, fatigue draining the usual bounce from her steps as she joined her family in the kitchen once again. Her appetite had been lacking, but some familiar smells from childhood caused her stomach to growl tonight.

“Chicken noodle soup and oatmeal cookies?” Marty quirked a dark eyebrow at her mother as she tied back her chestnut-brown hair in preparation for leaning over a steaming bowl. A few curls escaped and fell into her face, but Marty just didn’t have the energy to care. She sat in her usual seat. Abigail lifted herself slightly onto the chair beside her.

“I figured you may want something gentle and comforting after the day you had.” Marty’s mother ladled the soup into large bowls.

“Can we have cookies first?” Abigail asked with the sweetest, largest smile. That grin could get her anything she wanted from her mother, but not her grandmother.

“I love you, but no.” Denise pushed a bowl closer to Abigail and handed her a large spoon.

Marty looked down at her soup, moving the noodles and carrots around in search of a small piece of chicken. She brought it to her lips with a shaky hand and nibbled at it slightly. Her stomach wanted food badly, but her mouth revolted, wanting nothing to do with flavor. She knew she’d have to take it slow.

“So, did Grandma help you get all packed for our trip tomorrow?” Talking helped distract her wanting to gag. If she spoke enough, she could manage another bite or two.

“Mmm-hmm.” Abigail hummed and nodded with a mouthful of noodles before filling her spoon once more and blowing on its contents. Marty watched for a moment, wishing she could muster that kind of enthusiasm for the meal.

“Did you pack her red blanket?” Marty asked her mother.

“Of course.” Denise almost looked offended at the question.

“And her games and e-reader?”

“You’re acting as if this were my first rodeo.” The eldest Dempsey woman pierced her daughter with a chastising glare for her line of questioning.

Marty took a deep breath and looked back into her mother’s deep emerald eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You had a terrible day, I’m sure. I think it’s safe to assume you’re nervous about tomorrow as well?”

“The hospital is so far away. I hate having her sit in the car after her treatments.” Memories of the last visit intruded in Marty’s mind without permission. Abigail was sick the entire ride.

“The confrontation after today won’t be easy either,” Denise pointed out, even though it was far from necessary at the moment.

Marty pushed her soup away with her left hand and waved her right in a dismissive gesture, not quite ready to talk about it. She looked over at Abigail, who was chasing the last noodle around the base of her bowl. “Not now. Let’s talk about anything else.”

“Sweetheart, you need to talk about—”

“Not now!”

“Done!” Abigail pushed her bowl away. “Now can I have a cookie?”

Denise stood and huffed at Marty before smiling at her granddaughter. “Of course you can.” She reached toward the counter and returned with a plate piled high with chewy oatmeal cookies, still warm from the oven. “Take two, one for each hand.”

A bright smile lit up the little girl’s face, and tears came to life in Marty’s eyes. She looked so happy, her Abigail. Despite everything, she smiled just as happily at the offered cookies as she would have if it were her first time trying them.

Denise spoke to Abigail once again, sparing Marty an audience. “Abigail, why don’t you take those cookies upstairs to your room and pick out a movie to watch with your mother when I leave?”

“Okay!” Her enthusiasm was contagious, and both grown women found themselves smiling as Abigail ran to the stairs and up to her room.

“She shouldn’t be that happy, not with me.” Marty sniffled and tried to compose herself. She had been stoic all day, and the contained emotions had started make their way to the surface. She felt it in the warmth that tickled the tip of her nose and in every goose bump that pricked at her skin.

“Parents get divorced.” Denise pointed out that truth as if it were the easiest fact to accept.

“No.” Marty spoke the word like acid on her tongue. “It should’ve never happened to us.” She looked to the plate of cookies and suddenly all the scents in her home assaulted her, turning her stomach violently. “I need some fresh air.” She stood abruptly, the legs of her chair crying out loudly as they scraped against the hardwood floors. Marty rushed to the back patio, sucking in air as quickly as she could. She was light-headed and heavy-hearted. She jumped when her mother’s hand landed on her shoulder.

“It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t.” Marty looked out across her large backyard. The sun had put itself to bed and a chill accompanied the spring evening. The flowering trees that lined the perimeter of the yard were still a vibrant green with colorful petals adorning each branch. Soon enough, however, the vibrancy would fall away and leave nothing more than deep green. “I failed,” she whispered. “I failed them both in the worst way.” Fresh tears lit up in the moonlight, and she hugged herself in an effort to ward off a shiver.

“You could never fail Abigail.” Denise pressed her hand firmly into the center of her daughter’s back.

“But I failed Suzanne.” She finished what she was sure her mother was thinking. She fell onto a deck chair gracelessly as the acceptance of her life from that day forward hit her square in the chest. She looked down at the hand that signed the papers. “I have an ex-wife.” The words were directed to no one in particular, but the crickets chirped loudly in response.



Sneak Peek Two:

Once Upon a Time…

Marty grew anxious at the prospect of being stood up. She checked the oversized face of her watch for the fourth time. Her blind date should’ve arrived nearly fifteen minutes ago and yet she still sat in the crowded restaurant alone. Two full glasses of water sat on the tabletop, condensation rolling down the cool glass. Five more minutes, Marty promised herself. She looked at the last few sips of red wine left in her large wineglass, wondering why she had allowed her new coworkers to convince her a blind date would be a great way to introduce herself to her new hometown.


Marty could hear their conniving voices as clear as day. “Suzanne is wonderful!” Charlotte exclaimed as the plan unfolded.

“Charming and beautiful too!” Annmarie chimed in with her thoughts, her large brown eyes never leaving her computer screen.

“So why is she single?” Marty couldn’t contain her curiosity. She didn’t want to seem rude or offend her coworkers and new friends, but if the woman they were speaking of was so wonderful, surely she’d be paired up already.

“We never said she was single.” Charlotte smiled deviously and tucked a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear.

First impressions for Marty were a big deal. It could either make or break your future with her, but she had been wrong on both accounts with Charlotte Kingsley and Annmarie Ventuolo. At first they appeared uptight and far from approachable. Marty was the latest hire in the well-established real estate agency, and she expected to be treated like fresh meat. Charlotte was a few years older than Marty’s twenty-two years and intimidating with her Morticia Addams–esque pale skin, long black hair, red lips, and a wardrobe that rarely strayed from black.

Annmarie was the complete opposite. She was bubbly and over the top from the first moment Marty walked through the door. She was closer to forty, short, and a bottled blonde. She lived by the beach, and it showed in the deep tan of her skin. Annmarie seemed like the type of woman who would encourage, help, and raise you up just to watch you fall.

The fall never came; neither did the cutthroat atmosphere Marty expected. Both women eagerly took Marty under their guidance and showed her the ins and outs of real estate at the Jersey Shore.

“Excuse me?” Marty looked back and forth between both amused women. Annmarie smiled at her screen while Charlotte moved closer to Marty’s desk.

“Suzanne is sort of seeing someone,” Charlotte said.

“But nobody likes her,” Annmarie added.

“How do you know Suzanne?” Marty still wasn’t sure a setup was the best idea.

“I was into rentals at the time, and I showed her the apartment she lives in now. After the papers were signed, we went for drinks to celebrate and we’ve been friends for years now,” Charlotte all but bragged.

“What’s wrong with her girlfriend?”

“She’s rude!” Annmarie finally turned away from her computer. “She’s harsh, and she obviously doesn’t make Suzanne happy. Someone needs to come along and sweep that poor girl off her feet.” She smiled again at Charlotte. “And you’re going to get your chance this Friday.”


“You have got to be kidding me!” The loud voice startled Marty, and she jumped, almost spilling the last bit of wine on her crisp, floral printed blouse. The red would’ve stood out amongst the muted blues. When her heart calmed, Marty looked around to find the source of the rude outburst.

Behind her stood a petite blonde, no taller than five foot five. Her hair fell around her face in loose waves. The tendrils were multiple shades of blond and thick, appearing almost heavy. The stranger stood dumbstruck for a moment as Marty regarded her. She wore tight black slacks paired with a black blouse. Marty’s eyebrows rose in question.

“Suzanne?” Marty stood and recalculated the blonde’s height. She seemed taller now. Marty extended her hand. “I’m—”

“Not Charlotte.”

“No.” Marty dropped her hand and blushed slightly. “I’m not. I’m Martha Dempsey, but please call me Marty.”

“Suzanne Carlson.” She scanned Marty with her deep blue eyes as she spoke bluntly. “I was supposed to meet Charlotte, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by another setup.” She smiled weakly. Her lips were full and pink.

“Please, sit.” Marty motioned to the empty chair across from herself. Suzanne looked as if she wanted to argue, but she was more than ready for a drink. She sat gracefully and looked to Marty again.

“I apologize for my little outburst.” Suzanne couldn’t hide the color that rose on her fair skin, painting her cheeks a shade of pink Marty found undoubtedly attractive. “This is the third time this month I’ve expected to see my friend and I walk up to a complete stranger. A surprise each time, and Charlotte knows how much I hate surprises.”

Marty winced. “That sounds terrible. I’ll thoroughly chastise Charlotte when I see her at the office on Monday, but until then let me buy you a drink.” Marty put on her most charming smile. She knew she looked good; her choice of shirt was fitted enough to advertise her lithe build, and she kept the sleeves cuffed enough to display her early summer tan. Her hair had behaved that evening and the curls fell onto her shoulders in controlled chaos. With a hint of eye makeup and lip stain, Marty was sure to be a tempting date.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Marty licked her lips and smiled again. “Then we won’t call this a date, just drinks between new acquaintances.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Suzanne matched Marty’s broad smile. “I’ll have a chardonnay.” Marty was awestruck by the vibrant blue of Suzanne’s eyes. The waiter approached the table and Marty ordered for both of them. Suzanne sat back and flashed a crooked smile.

“So, Suzanne.” Marty leaned forward on her forearms and continued to speak. “Why is it that you’re seeing someone and yet your friend continues to set you up?” She knew why, but she was curious about Suzanne’s side of the story.

Suzanne let out a sigh. “Charlotte isn’t a huge fan of my girlfriend.”

“How come?”

Suzanne turned the interrogation around on Marty with a bit of heat. “Why do you let your coworker set you up on blind dates? Can’t get a date for yourself?”

“I’m new to town, looking to make some friends. A blind date didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the time.”

“Where are you originally from?” Suzanne asked.


“Fancy pants.” Suzanne chuckled and sat back as their drinks were delivered. She thanked their waiter. “What brings you down the shore? Point Pleasant is more of a tourist town, not exactly known for its real estate. Princeton is surely the better place to sell homes in New Jersey.”

“True, but I was ready for a change of scenery and better opportunities. Here you have homes, condos, townhomes, summer rentals, winter rentals—the possibilities are endless.” Marty took a sip of her red wine. “Plus, I’m a sucker for the water. I plan on having a boat in the next couple of years.”

“Oh yeah? What if you’re not as successful as you think you’ll be?” She was obviously a playful woman, and Marty enjoyed her company all the more for that.

“It’s part of my plan,” Marty said confidently.

“Do you always stick to your plans, Marty?” Suzanne leaned into the conversation, following Marty’s earlier action.

“I do.”

“Tell me more about your plan.”

The two women talked for hours. They laughed and exchanged embarrassing stories. Marty cringed as she relived the morning of her worst hangover and how little she cared when her mother found her naked on the living room floor. Suzanne quickly countered with the unexpected wet T-shirt contest she’d participated in on a train one rainy morning the summer before. Marty never hesitated before reaching out to touch Suzanne’s hand more than just a few innocent times. Once the waiter informed them of last call they realized how long they had been talking. Both women laughed in embarrassment.

“I guess that’s our cue.” Suzanne started to stand.

“You never told me about your girlfriend.” Marty stood and stretched, her shirt lifting a bit from the waistband of her jeans.

“She’s the silent type and not necessarily outgoing.” Suzanne cleared her throat. “We don’t go out much, but I like the quiet, strong types. The guy I was with before her was the same. Come to think of it, my friends weren’t too fond of him either.”

“Guy?” Marty’s eyes widened.

Suzanne laughed. She was clearly used to this reaction. “Yes, guy. Bisexuals do exist, you know.”

“Mmm.” Marty nodded and thought for a moment. She smirked before saying, “Bisexuals who happen to go after people with lackluster personalities certainly do exist.”

“Oh, that’s just rude!” Suzanne’s guffaw contradicted her words.

Marty needed to know more about this mystery woman who’d captured Suzanne’s heart. She walked around the table and placed her hand in the middle of Suzanne’s back, leading her from the restaurant in a chivalrous manner. “Does she make you laugh?”

“She can be funny.” Suzanne’s words were almost hesitant.

Marty grunted quietly.

“What? What was that for?”

“Nothing, I just…” Marty paused and met Suzanne’s gaze, a playful smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I can’t help but agree with Charlotte. You can do better.”

“And you think you’re better?” Suzanne crossed her arms over chest.

“I had you laughing all night, didn’t I?” Just as Suzanne was about to comment, Marty continued. “But I’m just looking to make friends, remember?” Marty’s breath caught when Suzanne smiled with a twinkle in her eye. She decided to press her luck. “What’s your number?” She took her phone from her back pocket. “I’d like to have another friendly outing sometime soon.” She didn’t look up from her screen. When Suzanne gave her the number, Marty started breathing again.

“Call me soon, friend,” Suzanne said.

“I will.” Marty turned and started her walk through the parking lot, an extra bounce in her step as she approached her beat-up sedan. She sat behind the steering wheel and stared at Suzanne’s number. She wouldn’t call that night, but she would call in the morning and every morning after that until Suzanne realized that Marty was worth way more than friendship.

“Life in Death”: Facts About My Fiction.

Writing a book, at least for me, is such an unpredictable process. Whether I’m surprised by the end product in comparison to my original concept, or the research needed to produce the most accurate product, there’s always more than meets the eye when it comes to a novel. I’d like to introduce you all to my second book, “Life in Death”, by sharing a few facts about the book and my experience writing it. In other words: there’s things you need to know before picking up this paperback, and a couple things I’d like for you to know simply because sharing is caring.

Number One: This is perhaps the most important tidbit I’ll be sharing, which is why I’m addressing it first. You need to know that this book is a romance at heart. It deals with some tough topics, a terminally ill child being one, but its core is a love story. Genres are tricky little monsters to write for, and “Life in Death” fell into a gray area that caused it to be labeled as General Fiction. Understandably so, I wouldn’t want anyone to pick it up under the assumption that it’s a lighthearted beach read with a few steamy scenes. The steamy scenes are present, for sure, but the lightheartedness is sporadic at best. But love, romance, and heart? There’s plenty of that.

Number Two: As previously mentioned, there’s a terminally ill child. I’m very specific about this in the back cover blurb, but I’ll mention it again for safety reasons. This child subsequently passes away. It is not graphic and I do not go into much detail- I wanted to avoid being a monster. But it does happen and it’s a vital part of the story.

Number Three: One of the doctors in the story was based on a a real doctor I had seen. Although, the version I wrote had much more of a personality.

Number Four: If you catch yourself shedding a tear every time a movie/tv show/book/commercial/song about Christmas shoes gets emotional, there’s a real chance you’ll cry reading this. I hope you cry- that means I did a good job!

Number Five: The idea for “Life in Death” hit me while I was half asleep, trying desperately to get another few minutes of rest before I had to get up for work. This happened within a day or two of “Fortunate Sum” coming together as a complete concept and I wound up having them both fully outlined at the same time. I had to make a decision as to which one would be my first born, and “Fortunate Sum” won, but not by a landslide.

Number Six: This story takes place in my hometown!

Number Seven: I faced two major challenges while writing this book- writing about a child while not having much experience with children, and writing about juvenile leukemia. Yes, writing about topics you have very little knowledge of calls for research. Researching children and their habits was easier since my best friend has an adorable two and a half year old and children are quiet literally everywhere. The latter of the two topics however, proved to be difficult for both my mind and heart.

Number Eight: Readers are (sort of) getting two books in one! I tried my hand at past and present stories coming together to form one as a whole. The chapters alternate between past and present, one telling the tale of “how we got here”, and the other of “what we do now”. It was my way of writing outside the box, and hopefully it translates to an entertaining read.

Number Nine: Writing “Life in Death” was an emotional experience. I found myself experiencing an unexpected inner turmoil along with genuine sadness and glee as I made my way through the story. I’d write bits of dialogue and catch myself making faces as if I were speaking theses words aloud to the characters. It was incredible experience for me, and I’m sure it was amusing to any bystander that may have caught me giving my computer screen some ‘oh no you didn’t’ sass with my eyebrows.

Number Ten: I listen to a lot of different music while I write. It helps me focus on the world I’m creating as opposed to the real world around me. I have a playlist of well-known favorites, but when it came to “Life in Death” a couple songs were constants and I even coined them as “soundtrack songs”. They were: “One” by Ed Sheeran and “Grace” performed by Sara Ramirez, from the musical episode of Grey’s Anatomy. These songs got me into a certain mindset. They allowed me to picture my characters, certain scenes, and feel what they could be feeling. Music is so incredibly powerful. I recommend anyone and everyone to take a listen to these tracks.

That’s it! I think that wraps up the list of the things I felt you all needed to know about “Life in Death”, both the big and the small. I’m really excited to be sharing this creation. There’s something about it that makes it immensely special to me. Maybe it’s because I dipped into my normally docile emotions, or maybe it’s because I tried to capture some of the most intimate and tragic moments between two people. Whatever the reason, “Life in Death” came to be because I love drama and the beauty that can still blossom even in our darkest times.

“Life in Death” is due to be released October 18, 2016, but is exclusively available on October 1st through Bold Strokes Books. Stay tuned! I’m planning to post a sneak-peek very soon!
Have a question for me about “Life in Death” or “Fortunate Sum”? Contact me through this website or find me on Facebook!

Speechless With So Much to Say.

I’ve been thinking all day- thinking of all the ways I can say ‘I’m speechless’ by using words. Words are all I have. I don’t have a flag to fly at half-staff and I don’t even have a dusty candle to light. Words, though? Those I have. I have many colorful words that I could use to curse these people that plague our country and the world with violence, but I won’t spread more hate. I also have many words I could use to describe the sickening twist I felt in my gut when I read the news this morning. But instead of all that, I’m going to take a moment to talk about fear, hate, and love.

I’m terrified, not just because a community I am proud to be a part of has been attacked, but because this world has become atrocious. I feel comfortable at home and throughout my “stomping grounds”. I feel safe. But I’m sure the people of Orlando felt safe, too. I’m willing to bet most people in North Carolina had used the bathroom in peace, until recently. Now I’m afraid that I’ll be assaulted for how I look or possibly attacked for who I love.

Why should anyone feel threatened because of love?

How is that fair?

Love, pride, happiness, generosity, kindness, compassion, laughter, and good- I begin to worry that these beautiful rays of light will start to dwindle beneath the weight of darkness.

Prayers will help build spirit, but we as individuals are responsible to change. We must shine brighter and show the darkness that no matter how hard it pushes, kindness is stronger. WE are stronger.

Let our love give us the strength to fight.

Earlier today I was convinced that I’d be safest if I kept to myself and traveled within certain limits, but then I’m handing the victory over to Hate. How then, as an individual, would I be assisting change? No, I will continue to love, live, and laugh. I will dance when a song I enjoy comes on and I will make sure to smile at strangers as I pass them on the street.

We are all human. Our hearts beat and we breath the same air. We love and we lose and most of us know what suffering feels like. We are all human.

Orlando, you have my love, my heart, and my dreams for peace. The victims and their families have my prayers. This is an attack that should’ve never happened. Lives that were being celebrated were instead lost.

Orlando, in the wake of this tragedy, I hope you never lose your pride.

Spread love. Spread peace. Spread kindness.

Romance on the Mind.

Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s the annual holiday that people across the country either love or loathe, celebrate or curse- I happen to be a fan of the day. Everything associated with the Hallmark holiday is so cutesy, I just can’t help myself. My affinity for this day also most likely has something to do with my love of romance in general. I write romance, I read romance, and I love to watch romance.

Reflecting on this love I have for love I decided that the most appropriate post for today would be a list of my Top Ten favorite romances, from all sources of media, and ranking them from “gets me every time” to “forever in my heart”. Let’s start the countdown, shall we?

10. Audrey and Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors: This is definitely a ‘last but not least’ situation. Seymour is an orphan that has grown into a nerdy, poverty-stricken adult that is so desperate to make his way out of his life-long rut that he feeds an alien plant chopped up humans, and Audrey is a ‘cocktail waitress’ turned flower shop employee with a penchant for abusive bad boys. He doesn’t feel good enough for her because he can’t offer much and she doesn’t feel good enough for him because of a less-than-innocent past. Add in puppy-eyes, musical numbers, and cleavage for days, and you have the foundation for an out of this world romance.

9. Stef and Lena Adams-Foster from Freeform Television’s The Fosters: Two beautiful actresses starring as two women in a long-term committed relationship turned marriage. With more kids than I have shoes, Stef and Lena are constantly struggling to focus on themselves and their relationship, but they never lose their sense of humor. They have chemistry and heart which project onto the screen as one of the most believable relationships on television.
8. Dellon Mitchell and Sandy from Radclyffe’s Justice Series: The first pairing from a book that made it onto my list and they earned the spot. Dellon is a rookie cop and Sandy is an official Confidential Informant for a detective on the force. Complicated enough, but I’d also like to add that Sandy is a prostitute. These two are secondary characters in Radclyffe’s series, but their stories and chemistry allow them to stand out and have a storyline of their own worth following. The balance of innocence and darkness makes for one hell of a ride.
7. Baby and Johnny from Dirty Dancing: I’m pretty sure every romance lover from my generation would put these two crazy kids on their lists. Baby is a fresh, delicate flower and Johnny is a bad boy dancing king that gets Baby bumpin’ and grindin’ in no time. But I’m still left wondering what happened next. Was it a summer fling? Did Johnny hang up his Kellerman’s issued dancing shoes and follow Baby to South East Asia to help fight hunger? We’ll never know.
6. WE HAVE A Julia Roberts TIE! First, Vivian Ward and Edward Lewis from Pretty Woman: A millionaire (billionaire?) falls in love with a prostitute and they rescue each other. It’s an iconic movie with an abundance of quote-worthy lines. If I didn’t put it on this list it’d be a big mistake, HUGE.

Secondly- Anna Scott and William Thacker from Notting Hill: A world famous movie star falls for a regular Joe that owns a travel book store. Who hasn’t had a fantasy much like this one?? (Sorry, Sandra Bullock, but I’m taken now!)


5. Idgie Threadgoode and Ruth Jamison from Fried Green Tomatoes: These two are on my list because of the book, not the film. Their story warmed my heart, made me laugh, and damn-near made me cry. If you’ve only ever watched the movie and had foregone the book, do yourself a favor and pick it up ASAP. You can contact me via email with your thanks.

4. Root and Shaw from CBS’s Person of Interest: These two…boy oh boy. I’ve recently been introduced to this show and they’re already nearing my top three, and it’s not just because Sarah Shahi is a stone-cold fox (never forget her days as Carmen on The L Word) but the chemistry was there from their first scene together and it was a surprise to everyone. Root is a brilliant, borderline psychopathic, hacker and Shaw is a former military operative with an Axis II Personality Disorder- that means Shaw is incapable of feeling, but it’s fairly obvious that’s not true when it comes to Root. It’s a love/hate partnership with plenty of heart-eyes and flirting. Shaw’s harsh disinterest in Root’s blatant attraction to her makes for the best foreplay on television.
3. Alice Pieszecki and Dana Fairbanks from The L Word: Speaking of The L word… I’m still bitter about this one. They were OTP before OTP was even a thing. Ugh! The wound is still too fresh to talk about it, so I’ll just move on.
2. Elle Graft and Hunter Dyson from Eliza Lentzski’s Winter Jacket Series: Eliza Lentzski is a brilliant author. She crafts a first-person story better than I could ever imagine doing myself. Winter Jacket became one of my favorite books before I even finished it. The taboo attraction between a professor and a former student, an odd obsession with one specific article of clothing, and an age difference that portrays wisdom and naivety in refreshing ways come together to make an incredible romance. I cannot say enough good things about these characters and the journey they go on- both individually and together. I’m impatiently waiting for the release of book four!

And now, my number one favorite romance pairing/story of all time is…

  1. Kylie Mackenzie and Blair Spencer from Suzan X. Meagher’s All That Matters: What a book! Blair and Kylie will never leave my heart. Blair starts out happily married to her husband and looking to conceive, but their struggles in that department lead them to visit a fertility specialist. At their first appointment, the couple is introduced to another doctor at the practice: Dr. Kylie Mackenzie- gorgeous, lesbian, single and ready to mingle. Kylie and Blair hit it off as friends, but as the road to conception and the start of a pregnancy gets shaky, Kylie becomes strong support system for Blair. Lines get blurred, curiosities get peaked, and hearts go against their better judgements. The unravelling of their tale is beautiful and both of these characters have a wicked sense of humor. Just writing this is making me want to go give the book another read!
Please Note: Each movie, show, or book mentioned are property of their original creators, networks, production companies. My use of their titles and character names are for non-profitable blogging. These mentions are just small shout-outs, with all due respect.

A Little Taste of “Fortunate Sum” and an Exclusive Offer!

We’re just outside of one month until the release of Fortunate Sum. I’m so excited to share this little creation with you all that I decided to share an excerpt from the book. This little bit is where Catherine and Imogene first meet eachother, and oh what a meeting it is.


More and more guests filled the living area and large kitchen within the next half hour. Catherine hadn’t had the chance to manage even a small “happy birthday” to Alice before someone dragged her away to greet her guests. She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of her. Catherine remained tucked away with a glass of the wine she brought and found herself somehow having a one-on-one debate about the Super Bowl with a man she believed was named Eric. Catherine hated sports. Thankfully, she was part of a family that enjoyed entertaining and worked in a field that required her to address large groups of people at a time. Catherine managed to handle herself just fine. She only caught herself wishing the kids were there to take her away from the stifling adult once. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” she held up her glass, “too much wine on an empty stomach.”

“It’s Jeff. My name is Jeff.” She flinched at her mistake.

“Excuse me, Jeff.” She slithered away, feeling guilty, bored, and tired. Deciding she was ready to leave, Catherine scanned the large crowd in hopes of finding Alice. No such luck. Instead of weaving in and out of bodies to find her, she decided to fill a plate at the impressive buffet. She had a lot of work waiting for her at home, but at least this way she’d get to it with a full stomach while avoiding another sodium-packed prepared meal.

As Catherine grabbed a plate, a redheaded woman who seemed more eager to get to the shrimp cocktail than any other partygoer bumped her. Catherine stumbled back a step and almost dropped the dish. Just as Catherine was about to bite off a remark, the redhead turned around to offer an apology.

“I am so sorry! I probably look like some sort of fool, stumbling over myself just to get to some food!” A megawatt smile spread across her beautiful face, rendering Catherine speechless. “I didn’t get a chance to eat all day, and I have been waiting patiently for an opening to get at least a little something to nibble on.” Catherine tried to follow what she was saying, but the other woman gripped Catherine’s shoulder to steady herself as she slipped back into her runway heel. “When my opportunity came, so did you. That’s when I forgot how to put one foot in front of the other without losing a shoe and, well, crash.” Giggles fell from her full pink lips.

Catherine couldn’t stop staring at her, even though she hadn’t heard a word the woman had said. Her thick, long, auburn hair framed her face well. She looked so young and yet so mature. She possessed a timeless, old-Hollywood beauty Catherine thought magnificent. The sprinkle of freckles across her pink cheeks added to the charm she saw in the woman’s large, crystal blue eyes. She took her hand off her shoulder, and Catherine realized she should say something.

“Me either.” The woman looked confused, and Catherine thought to elaborate. “I haven’t eaten much either.” When the redhead smiled brightly, Catherine’s stomach did a little, unfamiliar flip. She swallowed hard as the other woman looked her up and down. The movement was subtle, but she felt as though it was a physical caress. Catherine reached over and grabbed a large platter overflowing with peeled shrimp. “It’d be a shame if we both starved. Shall we?” Together they walked toward the empty couch.

The two women sat, laughing and joking as they ate. Catherine learned quite a bit about the bubbly redhead beside her. She knew she liked shrimp immensely and could spot a finely tailored shirt a mile away. Though her red hair fell in waves, she was jealous of naturally curly hair, she had a love for heels but couldn’t quite master anything higher than two inches, and she absolutely adored parties and white wine, but not as much as her Aunt Rita. She was everything Catherine wasn’t and enjoyed all the things Catherine shied away from. Thankfully, she was so talkative, Catherine didn’t have to share anything too personal.
Without prompting, the crowd shifted to the perimeter of the room, clearing space in the center for a woman with blond, chin-length hair. She was slim and tall, authoritative in posture and air. She waited patiently for the quiet murmurs around the room to die down.

“What’s this all about?” Catherine whispered, leaning in closely. She wouldn’t let herself acknowledge the dizzying feeling that accompanied the scent of the other woman’s perfume. It was a delicate, addicting scent.

“That’s Sophia Glass. She’s a psychic,” the other woman offered. She never took her eyes off the blonde as she started speaking, opening up to the crowd.

“Hello, everybody. My name is Sophia, and I’ll be your entertainment for this evening.” A few men hooted at the idea and Sophia laughed. “Not that kind of entertainment, although it would probably increase my pay rate.” The rest of the room joined in on the laughter. “I’m a psychic, and I’m here to talk to the believers and possibly even intrigue the skeptics.”

“A psychic? Are you kidding me?” Catherine could barely contain her disbelief and giggles. What was Alice thinking?

“Sophia has a large following and a very well-respected practice in town.”

“A practice? She’s not a doctor,” Catherine said. “She may be a quack, though.”

“She’s not a quack.”

“You believe in this stuff?” Catherine pointed toward Sophia. “That woman is here to make money. She’ll tell these people anything they want to hear.” She shook her head and laughed again as she looked around at the interest on everyone’s faces.

“You should be more open-minded,” the redhead whispered.

“I am open-minded, but I’m not stupid.” Catherine looked into the blue eyes suddenly boring into her. Gone was the laughter, gone was the light, gone was the magic and the connection that had no name. Before she could ask why, the psychic started talking again.

“I’d like to call up my dearest friend to assist me. Imogene, come up here.”

Catherine realized she had put her foot in her mouth, and she didn’t like the taste of it when the woman next to her rose and joined in the spotlight at the center of the room. She sank into the plush sofa and waited patiently for an opportunity to escape with her tail between her legs.


Want to read more? Drop by here or here to preorder the paperback or head on over to Bold Strokes Books to preorder the ebook and receive it March 1st! This offer is EXCLUSIVE to ebook preorders on the Bold Strokes Books website. Take advantage now!  March 16th cannot come quickly enough. 

What is Fortunate Sum About?

As the release date nears and the knowledge of the existence of my book spreads, I find myself on the receiving end of this question often. It should be easily answered considering I wrote all 240 pages myself, but I have a bad habit of clamming up when I’m put on the spot. As a result I tend to drop a very generic, vague answer like- “It’s a love story, sort of an opposites attract thing. There’s a psychic, too.” Well, the more I think about it now, the more my face hurts from cringing at those terrible descriptions. Now, I will try my best to tell you all what my story is about. I will take you deeper than a blurb or quick synopsis, but I will not give anything away. After all, I’d still like for you to read it.

So, what is Fortunate Sum about?

It is a love story. A love story between two women, to be precise. It’s about stumbling upon love when you least expect it, after searching for it so desperately in all the wrong places. It’s about trying your best to be the person others expect you to be; trying to be someone they will respect. Fortunate Sum is about struggling with your past while trying your hardest to control your present and future. It’s about skepticism and falling for someone that bends your otherwise rigid expectations you have for yourself. It’s a romance built upon the idea of gray skies clearing into bright blues and magentas. It’s about the simplicity and complexity of love. It’s about fear and redemption. It’s about stupid mistakes and misleading information. It’s about friends helping each other out with advice- both psychic and otherwise. It’s about coloring outside the lines and being okay with it. When all the signs point you in the direction of the beautiful face smiling back at you and you feel something indescribable click into place- that is what my book is about.

Fortunate Sum is a simple romance, but I hope the underlying themes and the delicate moments between each of the characters allow it to be seen as something more.

I also hope this post doesn’t have better quality writing than my book. That’d be embarrassing.

November News!

Happy November, everyone! Hope you all enjoyed the warm weather and are better prepared for the winter than I am! I have some news to share with you all so let’s get right to it.

“Fortunate Sum” has been given an official release date: Mark your calendars for March 15th, 2016. You’ll be able to order your copy from the Bold Strokes Books website or you can count on Amazon/Barnes and Noble to get it to you! You can pre-order my book NOW from Barnes and Noble’s website as well as Amazon. You may be wondering, “Why pre-order so far in advance?” The answer is simple! Pre-order “Fortunate Sum” in November, have the holiday season distract you, and BAM! Surprise book delivered to your doorstep in March! March 15th seems like a long while off, but it’ll be Chanukah, Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s and Easter before you know it. Scary, isn’t it? Speaking of Easter, you know what fits perfectly in baskets? Books! You’re welcome for the idea.

Stay tuned for updates, excerpts, teasers, and maybe even a contest as the release date draws closer. I’m so excited to be sharing this unbelievable journey with you all, it’s a dream come true to be talking about the release of my first book. My nerves are a wreck and my stomach is twisted- it’s wonderful.

Without further delay I present to you, “Fortunate Sum”-



Catherine Carter earned her spot as one of New York’s top financial advisors by following the rules and reaching her every goal. The same applies to Catherine’s personal life. Her next self-imposed deadline is looming, and all that’s left to do is to meet the perfect man. At her friend’s urging, skeptical Catherine meets with a psychic who tells her to look for the color blue, and that’s when life spirals from her control. Prospective client, quirky Imogene Harris, is reluctant to hire anyone to help with her inheritance, but when she sees what’s being offered, she has a change of heart. Catherine denies her attraction to Imogene. Imogene is falling for the woman behind the numbers. Not even a rocky start, secret past, or misinterpreted predictions can stop the women from being drawn to one another. Together they learn that perhaps blue isn’t the color of sadness after all…

Release Date: March 15th, 2016

Pre-Order Now!

Barnes and Noble






The Reality of Writing.

Writers- there’s a lot of us out there. One out of every five people is or will be a writer (made up statistic) and we all have different methods. We may have a special space or a ritual that goes along with a productive day. Hey, there’s probably an author out there that has a special pair of writing socks (not me) or underwear (maybe me). Most of us are a bit attention deficit and scatter-brained, but with such active imaginations what do you expect? With that being said, I’d like to give the non-writers of the world a glimpse into an author’s world.

As much as it’d be nice for the day to be spent furiously typing away at the keyboard of your fancy computer, laptop, or classic Smith-Corona typewriter- those are the good days. The really, really good days. The bad days are the ones where you’re ready to yell at your cursor as it mocks you with its blinking prompt. But more often than not, you’ll have average days. What I’m going to do now is walk you through what an average day is like for the average author that’s struggling to be above average for their dear readers.

You’ll wake up and look out the window, ideally it’ll be a dreary day because if the sun was shining you’d start cataloging all the outdoor activities you love and that’ll prove too distracting, so you’re grateful when gray skies greet your sticky eyes. Next, you’ll prepare your favorite caffeinated beverage and settle in behind your computer (or in my case- with my laptop upon my comforter covered lap) and stare. I usually have a notebook full of scribbles at my side to assist me and I’ll glance back and forth a few times before my imagination comes to life and the story starts to flow. Well, trickle. It’ll trickle consistently for a while after that.

Your groove will usually come to life a bit later (as long as you don’t hit a new chapter because with each new chapter comes new struggles) and its glorious. You feel engulfed by beautiful, prismatic colors as the light of inspiration burns brightly within you…

Cue needing to use the bathroom or a stomach growl. Fine, you’re a human so you need these basic things. You rise, breaking free from your trance, cutting off any and all ties you had with your muse in that moment and go on to do what is necessary. When you return with a full belly or empty bladder NOTHING IS THE SAME. Your seat isn’t as comfortable, the temperature of the room had changed, and your cat (or dog) is much more interested in your existence by now. They let you know that by climbing onto you lap or doing cute things that could rival the latest YouTube animal video.

If you do not have a cat or dog this is probably the time where you’ll randomly consider adding one to your life because why not?

Vet bills, that’s why. You’re trying to make it as a writer remember? You can’t afford that. You’ll thank a higher power for helping you remember that before you finished putting on your shoes and googling the address of a nearby shelter.

Back to your developing story.

Where were you and why did you stop mid sentence like that? You remember why Rosa was meeting Jaimie in the coffee shop, but you cannot recall why they were both staring at the latte with such intensity. Intensity? You know you can do better than that. Time to search for your thesaurus. (Give that some time because if you’re anything like me you’re a slightly disorganized writer.) Along the way you rediscover a shirt that was once your favorite, a movie you had completely forgotten about, and your iPod.

Didn’t you make a writing playlist a while back? No? Well now is as good a time as any. You scroll and add and scroll some more. It’s not until the first verse of a song plays that you continue your search.

You find your thesaurus and go to town.

Emotion? Concentration? Ardor? No. You decide to stick with intensity.

You sit back down and read the last few pages to help jog your memory of what brought you to your current scene and you are pleased with how it has turned out. Very pleased actually so you take a second to pat yourself on the back. Good job, you.

As you’re about to continue working on the scene (that finally makes sense) your phone chimes with a new message and you’ll answer whomever the sender is immediately. You’ll also check every social media site you’re enrolled in. After you’ve checked, double checked, refreshed every feed, and commented on the many things that simply required your two-cents, you return your attention to your (now cold) coffee and take a sip.

You love the mug your holding. It’s your favorite mug. Everyone should see your favorite mug. Pick up that phone again and get ready Instagram!

Pick the perfect angle and filter.

#coffee #mug #favoritemug #writersfuel #authorlife #amwriting #lifesustainingliquid #iwishiknewhowtoquityou #brokebackmountain #brokebackcoffee #brokebackbrew #thatdbeagreatbeername #hardatwork

Okay, where were you? Right. You were in the coffee shop with Rosa and Jaimie.

Your fingers finally cooperate with your brain and the words begin to flow rather effortlessly (must be good luck sent to you from your favorite mug) and you nail that coffee shop scene. NAIL. IT.

Annnnd that’s usually when you realize it’s lunch time, dinner time, or midnight. You decide to call it quits for the day, close your laptop (or put your computer to sleep) and pat it gently while telling it to get some rest. You however, will be up until the wee hours of the morning telling yourself to get some sleep and wondering whether Rosa would stare at her latte with something other than intensity.