3 Tips for reading a dual POV novel!

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There is a lot of energy involved in writing and reading a dual POV book. Did you know that each of our narrators in Death’s Primordial Kiss has their own set vocabulary that is checked in a search before the books come out? Most of the time, reader’s aren’t really driven by the behind the scenes stuff, but I did want to list a few simple rules on how to read a dual POV book in the beginning, before you get to know the narrators.

Here are 3 tips to reading a dual POV novel:
1. Read the headings, they are there to help! Dual POV books are way harder if you are a skimmer. Pay attention to the headings that list a character’s name, and your brain will help you out in organizing the information! In Book 1,  I use a name and symbol before the start of each chapter. I will extend the symbols to my back catalog as well, because it’s what readers wanted in a survey, and makes a beautiful book!
2. Use accents to narrate your thoughts. When POV characters have accents, an author will let you know almost the second they start talking. In book 1, Helaine happens to be British (with some French words thrown in) and Rose has an American accent, which tends to be plainer.  As soon as they start speaking, the accents are made known. When you get to a new heading, knowing the accent helps to switch your inner narrator over to a regional accent!
3. Enjoy the ease of reading set vocabulary. The dual POV author wants you to get the hang of things, and just like vocabulary from a regional accent, certain words will be used exclusively to each character, and when they get into their elements, vocabulary changes to match. You might not realize that this is happening at first. Helaine’s vocab shows that she is a little more self-centered, a tinge lazy, and out to prove herself. She’ll use French words and doesn’t hesitate to drop an f-bomb for humor.  Rose uses intuitive Pisces words and mysticism to counter Helaine’s calculating ways of being a Libra, and Rose will save those f-bombs for emphasis and spells gone wrong.


In summary, use those chapter headings and accents to your advantage until you get used to character personalities!

View “Death’s Primordial Kiss” on Amazon!

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Book 1 is up to some ritual sacrifice, but don’t worry, it’s only for a limited time! .99 sale.

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2 points of view. 2 storylines. 2 chances to fall in love and now it’s 😱 .99! 🤯 but only through November 14th. Goes live 8am Pacific! I am being inpatient over here in the Eastern time zone.

Sisterhood, friendship, and inhibitions are put to the test in this first in series book, and it’s not for children. It’s over 117,000 words as it alternates between our main sister witches. The average human would have to type consistently (no outlining time, character maps, plot construction, or revising here) for 10.26 hours to write this book!!!

I mean:🤯.

I am so happy reading your in-depth reviews about what you liked. My readers are awesome about leaving quality reviews, and the struggle with trying not to give any spoilers up for this series is real. There is a twist around every corner and you readers aren’t budging. Want to see something in Book 2? Go tell me in our facebook group in November’s poll, and have a fun time there while you’re at it! Pop in for monthly polls and book tidbits here and there.

Thanks for supporting the series by reading, sharing, and reviewing, and consider sharing this book with a friend if you loved it.

Take me to Death’s Primordial Kiss

2girlsonly

 

 

Focusing on those who are present instead of those who disappoint you is a life lesson we all need.

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people-2559723_1280At Kent State University, I had a music around the world teacher (this was not a class for music majors) who would open the first few weeks of class by complaining about the students on the roster who didn’t show up to class. I quickly learned that he was lessening the experience for those of us who did show up by focusing on the students he didn’t like. Sure, a half-empty auditorium is disheartening for any presenter (a half-full auditorium of mostly college freshman is just the same), but what about the students who actually showed up?

By complaining about absent students, was he trying to remind the students who weren’t there last class to show up more often? Perhaps, but mostly, he was complaining to a problem that wasn’t even there to listen. He was wasting his valuable time complaining about someone who wasn’t there to listen to his complaint.

Do you find yourself complaining about someone who isn’t there to listen, and really fixating on it? Do you find yourself talking about the people in life who aren’t there for you more than voicing to them personally that you are disappointed? If you are, it’s a cycle of negativity, and you are trapped.

I found myself changing overnight recently when I found that I am now more likley to offer advice and communication when someone comes to me with a problem. Friends are finding it unlikely that I will bash a mutual friend for their life decisions when they vent to me. Yes, venting is normal and getting it off your chest is, but I just don’t feel like talking about someone behind their back and taking a side does anything for me anymore.  So I empathize, but my end game is to remind a friend to take their grievances DIRECTLY to the person who hurt them. I’m not a gossip sounding board and I get that people won’t like me anymore because of it. I am not sad that I can’t help in that way. What can I do if I didn’t cause a problem between 2 friends that I care about? Nothing, besides tell them to communicate.

In summary, don’t be like my music teacher and fixate on the people who aren’t there. Get it off of your chest and then move on. Thank people for being there. Keep in contact with the ones who support, love, care, and are proud of you! But never miss the chance to tell someone how you feel. You will feel much better if you tell someone directly instead of complaining about them in private.  Be honest, but if you don’t agree, maybe it’s time to let that friendship sit for a while, and that’s okay.

If someone isn’t there, there are still plenty of people who are.  Focus on what you have and put your energy into that.

 

Release day for Death’s Primordial Kiss!

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Wow. I have been at this for 3 long years, and here comes my 7th book. Beside’s being exhausted, I am incredibly proud of this book, as well as the feedback I am receiving on it. I had the opportunity to grow so much in the past 3 years and learn beyond the time I studied literature in a collegiate setting.

Death’s Primordial Kiss has 2 POVs with unique vocabularies, accents, and personalities. I turned to astrology to decide what my sister witches would do in certain situations. Though their personalities might change a little (elemental magic has that effect), these characters are ass-kicking martial artists who want to save the city that wants to see them fail. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. 5 witches are on The London Coven at a time.

I chose the new adult genre because this job is a 10-year appoint that happens during all those phases of figuring out who you are. I took the series title of “The Silvered Moon Diaries” in allusions Macbeth’s witches, and because we’re holding nothing back in learning about the fears and challenges these narrators face. Fear not, because these witches aren’t old hags. They are men and women in their twenties charged with risking their lives to keep order. Boys can be witches too? Absolutely. Does that complicate a coven? You bet.

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It’s hard not to give away too much (I’ve already thrown you some spoilers in the blurb) when there are so many twists. I am even lying to you in the blurb to throw you off. Nothing is what it seems, and as we get deeper and darker into London’s system of magic, nothing is ever going to be the same. Lies and secrets could tear these sisters apart. Romance blossoms out of forbidden love. Hearts will be broken. Lives will be lost. Prophecies will come to light.

I need to be quiet now before I give too much away. I can’t wait to read your reviews! Thanks so much, and welcome to:

The Slivered Moon Diaries

 

The Fire Seer is out! And there’s only 1 way to find the story.

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You should have a very special email from August 13th in your inbox if you are subscribed to the email newsletter! That is the only way to get this story! Fear not, you can get the link below. It’s kind of like a treasure hunt.
 
 
It’s déjà vu for Delilah when she stops a pyrotechnic accident at a London punk rock concert in 1986, and realizes that she’s seen it before—and that she’s the first fire element seer the London Coven has ever had. After one of their own is abducted by rogue witches, it’s clear that someone high up is playing everyone as fast and hard as a fifth chord chorus. Delilah’s premonitions might not be enough to stop the witches in charge, or challenge an ancient, hedonistic ritual that plagues London Coven hopefuls—not unless she can work in harmony with the other four elements. Can Delilah put away the past and future, and focus on the present to bring the guilty parties to dead end justice?
 
The Fire Seer’s story combines dark fantasy and urban fantasy elements found in Demetri’s urban fantasy repertoire and contains a prominent love story that is suitable for young adults and above.
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Get it here!

30 years later, and I never figured this type of person out

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Many important lessons come in your twenties, especially when you’re open to learning new things, but one thing I can certainly say I am not wiser about, is figuring out how to connect with “things” people.

Allow me to explain.

I think humans are inherently good, and I’m not questioning the overall values or morals of “things” people, but I can’t figure out for the life of me how to communicate with them. Their personalities remain a huge mystery to me.

Some people show affection by spending time with others, helping others, physical affection, verbal encouragement, or by gifting them things. One of my previous coworkers (Thanks, Jim!) showed me the Love Languages Quiz. I like for people to help me with tasks or spend time with me. Things were low on my list. I value open and honest communication over things. Without words, I do not know how to communicate.

Largely, I have been unable to reciprocate things because I don’t really even buy things for myself. I have only had a part-time income since September of 2015 (which means yes, I am going to be spending less time writing, but more time for writing quality work in the near future),  so I didn’t have a lot of money to throw around then, though I am not complaining. With a budget, all is possible, but it wasn’t exactly in my means to buy people a bunch of things just to show my affection.

In my early twenties, I used to have “things” friends, and a few, in particular, that would always pick up “things that reminded them of me,” kind of like it was a competition. I spent a lot of time with them and the gesture was unnecessary, but the takeaway point is that they drifted away and I have no idea where they are to this day. I am under the assumption , from my own experiences, that “things” people aren’t willing to build lasting friendships.

What I have noticed is that

  • Things people keep close few friends.
  • Thing people don’t ask you how you’re doing when they see you, and often hold side conversations about important life events with others, though you are right next to them.
  • Things people ignore your texts, but post all over social media in the meantime.
  • Things people will give you a gift if they have been ignoring you.
  • Things people tend to argue online just for the sake of arguing.

I’ve tried to get to know them, VERY HARD, to the point of sending them the 16 personalities quiz and stating that I am trying to get to know them. They blew me off.

I’ve tried to get them presents, but nothing seems to be good enough, and they don’t really appreciate them–and sometimes, they don’t use the gift you get them. They flat out reject your gesture. They like expensive things, and without a budget for that, I don’t think I can truly show them my affection.

My grandmother was largely a things person, and now that my family (including me) has some of her possessions, I think it would make her happy. It’s what she wanted to leave to everyone to live on, and that is one thing I understand.

When you are in close physical proximity to “Things People” you are reminded that 1. They are never proud of you. 2. They don’t want to take time to ask who you are. 3. They don’t want to hug you when they see you.

My question is: How can I truly show these people that I love them when I don’t have a budget for expensive things? How can I display affection if things are the only method they accept? Is it just that they don’t know how to communicate with me, or do they not love me back?

To me, materialistic people who are into themselves draw a very thin line that makes the rest of us not like humanity all that much. They may do things with a moral compass at the end of the day and know right from wrong, but their inability to cultivate meaningful interpersonal relationships outside of “things” reminds us how dark humanity can be. The indifference is such a grey line, and it’s hurting everyone around them.

What I have realized as I set this entry down and came back to it later, is that the only thing you can do to not have their behaviors and attitudes rub off on you is to not be around them. Surprise, after my “things people” disregard or ignore me, sometimes my subconscious dreams up a scenario of confrontation. I think I’m totally cool in real life, but I am repressing their rejection time and time again and I dream about it. And why do I care so much? Family. If they can’t get to you, who else can?

In summary, it’s probably best to set “things people” free, when they absolutely refuse to communicate. There’s not much else you can do. Sometimes, you have to face the fact you’ve been permanently rejected, and even if you think you’re feeling okay about it, distancing yourself is the best way to make sure you can get on with enjoying your life.

Enjoy time with your “people people”, and let your “things people” go free.

Do I understand them after all this reflecting, though?

Never will.

 

 

 

Death’s Primordial Kiss Chapter 1. Start it here!

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My serial was leading up to a Kindle Scout campaign, however, the program has ended. Fortunately, I can share a little bit of this work without being worried about Kindle seeing it as “publishing,” so now that we are halfway through the serial, I am proud to present to you Chapter’s 1 & 2 of Death’s Primordial kiss.straighttoyourinbox

Chapter 1: In the End

 Helaine & Rose 

No matter who you are, it’s coming for you. During the length of this journey, we were led to believe that when we reach our deaths, that one either succumbs to the darkness or is lifted by the light.

We accepted its claws on the heels of each step we took toward our destinies, though it would never receive a warm welcome from either of us, despite our best-kept oaths. After a year of knowing our final breath was a possibility, we were met with the chilling, irreversible truth that we weren’t invincible.

Should we have seen it coming to leave our lives in shambles or rip our souls from their fleshly homes? Yes, and perhaps we should have recognized the signs.

There were plenty of omens in the instinctive urges that made us turn to search the shadows. Though when we did turn, the projections of evil sat placidly and distracted us with reflections of ourselves.

Signs were outlined in the unexplainable moments that left gossamer hairs standing up on the napes of our necks, and in the unyielding winter ice that silenced the busiest of streets with its cool frost. Signs hung on superstition and swallowed the kindest of karma. And in all of these, one truth was waiting to be discovered: the moment of death doesn’t lead to a polarity.

There is no light. There is no dark.

There is only the sound of music.

 

           Chapter 2: Opportunity

Rose

One year earlier

 

Every point in my life led up to this moment, said every eighteen-year-old ever. Ever since I was six years old, I knew that I wanted to be one of them. I desired the most dangerous job there was—protect the innocent, keep two watchful eyes over the city, and commit a decade of my young adulthood to being one of the five most influential people in London. I was lucky enough to understand what I wanted from a young age, and the voice in my head repeated my mantra consistently over the years: I had to make it into The London Coven no matter the cost.

With such a short window of time, this could very well be the only opportunity I ever got, and I’d do anything I could to grasp it firmly in my hand and call it mine. It didn’t matter what or who got in the way. As long as you were eighteen to twenty years old and there was a vacancy, you could compete for a place on the London Coven: Your place. Not only was it a way of life, being in the Coven was a rite of passage in my family, and nothing would make them prouder than me being inducted as a Coven witch.

Our ballet flats carried us quietly across the glistening, rain-ridden cobblestone. We kept to the edge of slumbering houses tucked into rows, reveling in every second of our sneaking. Despite our best efforts to travel during two-a.m. quietly, Helaine and I both knew that we weren’t going to get away with this. The best we could do was postpone getting caught until morning, and the few extra hours we’d gain from this impromptu plan would give us a short-lived advantage, but a great one at that. With such fierce competition, we could use any lead we could find. And being too curious for our own good? Yes, that had just about everything to do with it.

It was and had always been eerie to me how solemn the streets were early in the morning. It was the closest we could get to feeling like we owned the city—for now, anyway. Helaine had a harder time sneaking out and had to trudge through backyards and gardens. She lived in an area of the city that had more night owls and nocturnals. My street was positioned closer to our target destination, a place in the city that was a mix of humans and paranormals. Neither of us uttered a word during the whole walk.

The misty rain had let up, and the clouds gave way to the stars, celestial bodies waking from their rainy dreams. As I glanced upward to the twinkling sky I felt myself getting caught up in stars, which I had done ever since I had noticed they were up there watching me. Even though I valued rationality, there was nothing like the serene but endless wonder the sky instilled in me. I saw Alpha Librae, Beta Librae, Gamma Librae, and Sigma Librae, all forming into their constellation, and above them, there was my personal favorite, Methuselah, the oldest star in our entire galaxy. The Libra constellation was Helaine’s zodiac sign, but not even the stars were comforting tonight.

I mulled over the weight and force of our mission. Was a four-hour head start on the other hopefuls really worth the risk of getting caught? Were there two initiate spaces open like the rumors said? The purpose of my existence felt like it had made its own gravitational field, pressing on the front of my thoughts.

Calm down, I soothed my mind. Does anyone really know what they’re supposed to do at eighteen? No. Chill the hell out. Conversations with yourself always turned out better when there was an answer back, but if I felt any better, it was only by a hair.

We ducked down an alley and approached the employee’s entrance of the red brick building. It didn’t have any ground floor windows (a clear indication that it was the fortress it was) and was signed as Block Thirteen Press, an unassuming title for the headquarters of a supernatural newspaper. Ours was known as The Thirteenth. Helaine’s face dropped to a frown, and she fixed a stare on me, lips puckering in discontent.

“Go ahead and ask it,” she said, her English accent making the demand in her voice somehow sound more polite than mine would have. The gleaming mischief in her dark eyes, however, was unmistakable for anything else.

“Are you sure about risking your internship for this?” I loved the feeling of sneaking through the night, and the ever-present dread of knowing we could be caught any moment, but once that key turned, there was truly no going back.

“It’s not breaking in if you have a key,” she answered. “At least for the first door we’re passing through. Also, if this is the news I think it is, I won’t be in need of such a wonderful internship anymore.” She smiled resolutely, fumbling with the key to her workplace. “My last name is the only reason they kept me on after I graduated.”

“And after you worked so hard to win that internship out from under me,” I said with a sarcastic smile. That was the biggest battle we ever waged against each other if sparring in martial arts didn’t count.

“You’re busy enough as an instructor,” she said, motioning me to follow her into the paper’s headquarters as she pushed in the door. That was true.

Helaine had the small flashlight on her watch lit, a beam jetting from her wrist, but the exit signs and security lighting were bright enough to allow us to navigate through the paper. She led the way, faint security lights bouncing off of the top of her head, leaving a ghostly glow around the wayward strands of her wavy red hair.

“I can promise you it’s not a job I’d mind losing. There’s no detective work in landing advertising for the newspaper, and it’s certainly not sitting on the surface of a filled teacup.” Helaine pointed to a paper-piled desk as we passed it. “Splash of cream, teaspoon of organic sugar.”

I snorted out in a laugh.

Maybe I was still a little envious that Helaine had landed the internship last spring at Block Thirteen’s newspaper. Reporting the news was the closest we could get to making history, which we intended to do, one way or another. Her parents made her stick out the job for the summer, and her boss told her she could work there through university too. If it weren’t for our promise to go to college together, she might have applied for university in Scotland instead.

Even though classes would start in a few weeks, it could become a contingency plan. Our real intentions could very well be behind the next door we were about to break into. Our biggest hope and dream since we were six years old, raised practically as sisters, could become reality. We would make history together.

We stood at the editor’s door in our rain-soaked shoes, looking up at it as if it were an imposing effigy we intended to set fire to. The door, with a green shade pulled down over its clear window, was our point of no return, and no one had ever formed a plan like ours and carried it through before. No one possessed the combination of controlled recklessness we were capable of at two a.m.  Once our unbreakable friendship made it into the Coven, we’d be unstoppable.

“I’m not going to lie,” I said famously, “I’m so excited that I might pass out if this headline is what we think it is. Our future could be revealed in a matter of minutes.”

“Less than that,” Helaine said. “I’ve been practicing.”

She slipped two pins from her jacket pocket, jammed them into the keyhole, and we heard the pop on the lock of the owner’s door. He was the only person who had access to tomorrow’s headlines—until Helaine found out the witches dropped off a story, and she and I spent the whole day coming up with wild conspiracies of what it could be. Around midnight, we started talking each other into breaking into the paper and finding out before everyone else. An hour and a half later, we snuck out of our houses.

The eerie creak of the door made my hair stand on end, and a chill shot across the base of my neck as it opened into a pitch-dark room.

“Did you see them when they dropped it off?” I asked Helaine, my words almost becoming lost to a whisper. I could feel how nervous she was, and that she was trying to extra hard to keep her emotions even so I didn’t faint like I had promised I might. I hadn’t planned on the figure of speech actually happening.

“No, they’re like ghosts. The five Coven members won’t be seen unless they want to be—well three now, hopefully. If that makes me sound horrible, I really don’t care. After you, Rose,” Helaine instructed, shutting the door behind us and flicking on the light.

The office had no windows and looked like a storage closet with filing cabinets lining the walls. We stood next to each other near the desk chair, exchanging a glance that confirmed neither of us was backing down. We were going to suffer the consequences. Stacks of paper were piled over a flat surface calendar, and sticky notes with bent edges marked the miscellaneous spaces in between the sheets. The most curious item on the desk was a dark brown file folder, hot-stamped with an insignia Helaine and I recognized right away.

“The lotus pentacle,” we said, gasping at the same time. It wasn’t a symbol the Coven liked to flash around, but all of their official documents were marked by it. My hand instinctively reached down to run my fingertips over the bumpy flesh of the thick folder. It was a five-pointed star, but its smooth edges morphed into the symbol into a flower; a reminder of where the protectors of the city drew their power from. When The Coven sent news to Block Thirteen Press’s owner, it usually meant that there was an early vacancy on its five-person team. The rumor was that this time, there were two, and though it was against the odds, sometimes rumors were born in truth.

Earth. Air. Fire. Water. Spirit.

The right elements, our ancestral ones, would have to be vacant for us to become initiates, and in the event that two places were open, we desperately needed them to be Water and Spirit. We both came from water lines, and spirit was like the wheel of fortune in Tarot, influenced by the cards around it, an element anyone could initiate under—very Helaine if you ask me. She was here tonight because she truly couldn’t believe the rumors until she saw them with her own eyes. I was all water, from my ability to feel other’s emotions, to occasional indecisiveness and being swept up in constellations, dreams and intuition. Tonight my intuition gnawed at my rationality, winning out, and convincing me that water and spirit were both up for grabs. There was no other way.

“We were right…” I trailed. “Together?” I asked, as Helaine’s hand joined mine at the cover.

Our anticipation was about to crush me, and luckily, Helaine didn’t want to prolong our excitement any longer.

“One, two, three—”

We flipped over the cover to reveal a headline that the owner set and printed without showing another soul.

The sting of our surprise and numbing amazement fed into each other, swirling up toward the ceiling of the dim room, and I could feel both emotions settle above us as reality kicked in.

 

            Exile confirmed: Two Positions in London Coven open for Autumnal Equinox.

 

“This is happening exactly how it was supposed to!” I exulted, starring down our dream since we were just little girls. “It just has to be Water and Spirit who got kicked out, and our elements are up for grabs.”

“Water, both our families,” Helaine nodded, talking herself through it, “and spirit, a line in my family, but also a wild card, a power anyone with witch blood can commit to without much trouble.”

“What does it say?” I asked, leaning into the page.

Helaine’s long red hair spilled onto the page as we both squinted at the fine print of the article that was to be published in four hour’s time.

“It says Water is open… and Fire.”

The contentment I felt when I thought everything was locked into place evaporated. Our families both came from long-standing water lines, and it had been decades since someone was brave enough to attempt to initiate under an element that wasn’t in their blood. He had failed, just as the last daft witch centuries before him had. Worse, their families had been disgraced, and no one with their blood was ever chosen to serve in the Coven again.

I didn’t know whether to look at Helaine or stare blankly at the page burdened with disappointment, so I glanced to her, silently asking her how I should be feeling at the moment, dreading the auditions we were about to endure, and feeling the whirlwind of emotions in the back office collide, cutting through me like a double-edged sword. I felt her surprise morph into a morose competitive demeanor laced with guilt, trepidation, and a bit of excitement. My own thoughts turned to a place of feeling betrayed by a coven I wasn’t even a part of yet. I felt a bitter resentment toward Spirit for messing things up and leaving us with only the element of water. The adrenaline from our excitement fizzled out. Our tiredness was no longer disguised by the giddiness of rule breaking, and I fought a lump forming in my throat, hoping that two a.m. left my stomach empty.

Don’t do it, I thought, talking myself out of vomiting all over the desk. I hated throwing up more than anything, but it wasn’t unheard of for me to have physiological reactions when emotions got as jumbled and complex as they were now.

I gulped down the bitter taste creeping up my throat, swallowing hard, the realization grounding my excitement, worn weary with disappointment. This was the worst possible situation an empath could be in.

“Are you okay?” Helaine asked me. Her eyebrows creased above her large brown eyes as worry replaced her other emotions, allowing my stomach to settle.

“No, I’m not okay at all.”

Helaine and I would have to fight against each other for the destiny we always thought we’d share. Only one of us could take our place on the London Coven, and the girl who made it would be leaving the other behind for ten long years. That decade would arguably be the best years of our entire lives… said every eighteen-year-old ever.

 

To read more, joining the email serial here: http://eepurl.com/c-5Hev to get caught up!

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The Silvered Moon Diaries is a New Adult, coming of age fantasy series with dual points of view.

Book one is named Death’s Primordial Kiss.

Who needs magic school when there’s magic work study? Welcome to the London Coven—if your unpredictable powers  can make it to induction.

In a world where everyone wants to see you fail, it’ll be a bloody day in hell before you give up. Helaine would gladly skip university if it meant joining the London Coven, but because of her prestigious family, no one in the city wants to watch her gain rights to protect them for ten years. A firecracker by nature, Helaine’s desire to succeed is fueled by proving others wrong. Can she stand up for herself at auditions and win the title of coven witch out from under both her sister, Rose, and her magic-wielding ex-boyfriend?

Sometimes when there’s no place for you in the world, you have to make your own.Unhuman, Rose has felt like an alien her whole life. The coven can give her a sense of identity, but when powers go awry, untamable passion can be even more dangerous than a witch hunter. Rose’s magical abilities are dependent on lust and desire, and also on the help of her mentor, whose talent intimidates her just as much as the tension between them does. However, does being a prophesied witch unlike any other mean that she doesn’t have a match and is destined to be alone to save the world?

When martial artists Helaine and Rose compete against each other for a place as aninitiate on the London Coven, they realize the dangers of conspiracy when one of their peers is murdered.  Now, with someone burning through witches, the coven’s newest initiate member must put aside her guilt and perfect her powerful, yet unpredictable elemental magic to save her fellow witches, or she could lose her career, loved ones, or her mortality.

Mkae sure you join the serial to get the first 10 chapters for free, and enter the contest!

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New Release spotlight for Selene Griffin’s There’s Something About Dragons: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Dragon In My Heart Series Book 4)

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somethingaboutThe consequences of her decisions will ripple across generations . . .

Born into the Balaurescu family of Romania, Isadora is the first of her kind in nearly half a century—a female Dragon-shifter, the most important figure in her peoples’ world—and the time has come for her to select a husband.

She allows herself no fanciful illusions. Choosing a suitor will only be the first of many decisions to shape the future of her people, and it would be a matter of diplomacy. She learned long ago to set aside her feelings in order to maintain peace, but a heart can only remain silent for so long.

One man awakens a longing in her too strong to be ignored—the only son of The Drayce family of Dragons, the man who would become her everything: Ladon Drayce.

But even as her heart chooses the man she would marry, a long-kept secret calls into question everything she has always believed to be true.

Will she stand by tradition or will deception, love, and the desire for the truth send the Dragon-world spiraling into chaos?

There’s Something About Dragons is the fourth novel in the Dragon In My Heart series, which is a paranormal romance novella. If you’re a fan of thrillers, exciting storylines and steamy love scenes, then get your hands on this exhilarating story by Selene Griffin!

For maximum enjoyment, read the series in order:
THE DRAGON IN BETWEEN (#0)
MAD ABOUT THE DRAGON (#1)
MISTAKENLY MARRIED THE DRAGON (#2)
THE FORBIDDEN DRAGON BABY (#3)
THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT DRAGONS (#4)

Grab your copy now to see how Isadora’s future and the fate of her people unfold.

Congratulations to Author Selene Griffin on the release of

There’s Something About Dragons (click to view on Amazon)

 

Thoughts on the first Charmed trailer. Show set for CW Fall

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Piper Charmed episode 1 season 4

I had watery eyes re-watching this episode at the gym in the morning.

The 1st episode of the 4th season of Charmed was on at the gym Monday morning, and watching Piper trying to bring back her sister almost had me in tears. It was 7am and I was tired, but that’s when I realized that I’m far too emotionally invested in the characters that I watched for 8 seasons.

Some viewers don’t want new characters in the reboot by the CW, airing in the fall, but I’d hate to say it, new issues, technology, and social climates evolve in new decades, and the first Charmed was twenty years ago.  Disagree with me all you want, but it’s time. Some people (The CW) got slack for saying the new Charmed is more “feminist,” which probably wasn’t the best thing to declare when the original was about a matriarchy.

Feminism is changing, just like everything else (The dictionary changes every decade), and it doesn’t mean that the original Charmed wasn’t feminist.

Of course, we all want to see the original sisters back, but we did have 8 long seasons with them that a new series will not erase.

Viewers were plenty vocal in the original series when the character Prue left and Paige was added. I remember a message board post from back in the day that said, “bring back pure,” but my God, did the writers do a fantastic job with Paige. It’s the job I wish Joss Whedon would have done with Buffy Summers.

In the reboot with new characters, Macy, Mel, and Maggie are Charmed ones. Here is the long trailer:

My initial thoughts: Right away, the setting of a Victorian manor is established, mom is too good to be true, and they press they sisterhood off the bat. And do I NOT trust the Brit “Advisor.”

What I’m excited about:

Mel’s freezing time powers are stronger than Piper’s ever were (unless an angel of destiny has shown up) and Maggie’s telepathy has some kind of force field.  Was someone born on a Nexus?

What happened to The Elders? Did it get played out and that’s why we have “advisors,” or is there a crazy plot coming up where whitelighters are extinct? I am hoping for the later! “Guardian Angel,” and “advisor,” carry entirely different connotations.

The college town setting means an awesome coming of age story. This is very new adult to me, how about you?

My predictions:

  • People will keep bitching. That’s life.
  • The “advisor” will be the least favorite character. I’m actually not looking forward to him at all.
  • Open-minded viewers will get the most out of this and pick up on nods to the original Charmed.

I can’t knock the new series until I give it a chance. See you guys again this fall!