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.


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.

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


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: to get caught up!


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!

Send me my emails!

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:

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!







What I wish my friends with and without kids understood about each other


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This post is for people with completely different lifestyles and those who have just crossed over into the role of parenthood, the never-ending job that you will never retire from. Some of your friends don’t have your lifestyle, but should you try to understand each other? Absolutely.


I’m writing this to talk about the buzzword Mommyjacking. I’m reminding humans on both sides to take a step back and appreciate the family or friendship they’ve always had.

Half of me is like, “No, this post is not directed towards you!” and the other half of me is like, “This is for you and people can understand you better than you think, and you’re not alone!”

So what is mommyjacking according to the internet?


This post is sparked when from out of nowhere, a family member is describing their day to a group of us, looks at me, and says, “Imagine trying to sit down and write your book and a toddler interrupts you every 30 seconds.”

Out of nowhere.

I interact with children now, though there weren’t a lot in my family growing up. I’m used to talking with friends who get distracted by their kid and come back to the conversation. It’s no big deal and kids interrupt. The amazing thing about them is that you can see them learning every time they do. I like to think of them as scientists. I just saw a tweet from Neil deGrasse Tyson about this, so i might have gotten it from him years ago. I confess. There it is.

I think what Moms don’t know, is that we appreciate what you do to take care of your kids! People without them would be naive to think it’s an easy job, and yeah, some people are naive. I promise though, that most of your friends won’t be.

Other conversations I’ve heard or have been a part of have gone like this:

“Just wait until you have kids.”

“You drank a bunch of water and had to pee 5 times this morning. Now you know what it’s like to be pregnant!”

“You were in the waiting room for your husband’s surgery? That’s nothing. It’s completely different when it’s your kid is gettting surgery.”

What mom’s need to know is that their friends without kids:

  • We have most likely worked in a demanding job and have been in charge of complicated tasks with distractions.
  • We don’t work well without an adequate amount of sleep either.
  • We have human empathy, and can fully understand when you say it breaks your heart to see your child not feel well.
  • We are capable of LOVING others even if we don’t have kids. Our families, friends, significant others, and even pets, will not rank higher than a child. When we love someone there are no exceptions as to whether or not we made them. It’s like saying an adopted child wouldn’t be as loved as a child born naturally to you. We can love people who don’t share our blood.
  • We take you seriously.
  • We are happy that you care so much about your kid!


What people without kids USUALLY understand about moms:

  • Your responsible friends: Will understand your kids come first.
  • Your hard-working friends: WIll understand the distractions of a day on your job.
  • Your kind friends: Will understand that you love your child with all of your heart!


In summary, if you feel the need to Mommy-jack, you probably aren’t hanging out with the right people. Surround yourself with the empathetic and kind, and the friends who won’t mind if you don’t text back for 48 hours! Empathy is key here, and just because we are in different stages of life, it doesn’t mean we can’t relate to each other.





An author’s tale: Hunter’s Moon in the A Guide To Claiming a Scaredy Cat Anthology.


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I was asked in a public post in a call for writers. The organizers Josette Reuel and S.E. Isacc were looking for authors for a shifter anthology of short stories. I jumped at the challenge because:

  1. I am addicted to backstory, so short stories have always been a challenge for me, even in school where they teach you how to write them.
  2. I don’t write about shifters all that often, so it would be a fun way to think outside of the box.


What I found was a helpful community of authors in the Scardey Cat Anthology, who supported me with social media tasks and words of encouragement. That was awesome because I was finishing up The Lost Years and The Hallowed Locus at the time, and the beginning of this year has been the most sacrificial yet (concerning time, friends and family). I kept my sanity because of those authors and my readers!



Wounded Warrior ProjectWounded Warrior Project(WWP) is a charity and veterans service organization that offers a variety of programs, services and events for wounded veterans of the military actions following September 11, 2001. It operates as a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization.


Why this story is different than the rest of my work:

  1. It’s all in the present tense. This makes for a fast, in-the-moment read that is designed to be a page-turner.
  2. My protagonist is different from many of my other main characters because of her pride. She doesn’t get embarrassed. She doesn’t apologize. But like my other work, she is inclined to do the right thing when she can get the other obstacles out of the way. Autumn is 33 years old, a little disenchanted by life, but ready to challenge the beliefs she was raised on.
  3. It is a fundraising anthology that supports The Wounded Warrior Project!

Thank you for reading and supporting Hunter’s Moon. It was a wonderful project that took me outside the box!


A collection of ten never before published paranormal romance tales about strong females who struggle to hold on to their scaredy “cat” males. This anthology is full of steamy hijinks that might just melt your eReader.

Amazon Global link:
Goodreads: See More

What are you up to with this dual POV thing, Romarin?


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Allow me to explain!

I started outlining a book series, and it became clear to me that these characters needed 10 books, and that it was going to be the perfect situation to write a coming-of-age story while characters are figuring out their careers and lives, and magic. I wanted to take what I learned in the past eight years, hundreds of thousands of words later and make a book that not only told two stories, but also encompassed other genres (suspense, murder mystery, urban fantasy, paranormal romance, metaphysical) and was the kind of long book (estimated around 500 pages) I wanted to read when I was a young adult.

So I started writing, and I started outlining (in the beginning I used to just let the words flow), and I made a highly organized chapter checklist to make sure it would hold interest and offer clues and really showcase qualities of characters who feel like real people. I set out to write paranormal romance, because it’s a wider genre that many people are interested in, and readers are looking for an emphasis on romance.

I know my dual POV is risky when my characters aren’t romantically linked (they were raised as sisters) but it’s so cool to see how they interact with each other. Even people who don’t keep a handful of friends have 1 close friend and think they can relate.


Paranormal romance is also risky lately with books being shadow-banned and seller status being stripped because they are too graphic with romance.

No matter the risk, I cannot stop writing. It’s a compulsion, and I’m too far in and have gained too much experience to quit. Unfortunately, I can’t make the decision as to whether or not this can be my career–only someone living in an apartment that overlooks Jersey can. The reality is that I am exhausted, and I know what is stacked against me… but I am doing my best to get the word out and put my book on Kindle Scout in July.

I am really hoping you’ll give my dual POVs a chance!

Sign up here to read the first 10 chapters for free, and if you like it, your support during my campaign this summer will mean the world to me!


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

Two highly coveted vacancies have just opened up in the London Coven, under what appears to be supernaturally suspicious circumstance. Witch hopefuls, Helaine and Rose, are forced to go from best friends to rivals. One must leave the other behind for a decade of secrecy: one that’s sure to be full of self-discovery, scandalous love affairs, and life-or-death danger, all happening on the front page of the newspaper, feeding the gossips and trolls of the underground.  Little do they know, the battle against each other is just the first trial. When tragedy strikes the witch community, things get personal—more intimate than a mentor who doesn’t know his boundaries—and more delicate than the insurmountable guilt that plagues the Coven’s newest initiate member. Someone is burning through witches, and the Coven themselves could be next. A smart witch counts on her friends to get by, but when powers go awry, untamable passion can be even more dangerous than a witch hunter.