Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Hide & Seek Chapter One

Posted: February 16, 2018 in Uncategorized








Aurora Maguire was looking for her last hope, so it made sense that the bar she’d been told to find him in was called Last Resort.

Even while riding in the back of a cab to get there, she kept her heavy coat pulled around her body and her hood over her head in a feeble attempt to protect herself. Last Resort was located in the center of the worst part of town making her fearful of what she might find when she got there.

The first four cabs she’d gotten into had refused to bring her to this district. The driver of the one she was in now had agreed to take her only after she gave him a hundred-dollar advance tip and she proved to him that she was armed. Pepper spray was feeble, but it was all she had to protect herself.

Her last hope. All she knew was his alias. One of them at least.

Venturing down this path was beyond dangerous, crazy most people would say. But she wasn’t crazy. Not crazy. Just determined… and desperate.

The cab stopped in the middle of an unlit block. Rain battered the window and the usually comforting sound of raindrops on the roof made her edgy.

Though she couldn’t see anyone or anything other than the narrow space between two dilapidated buildings leading to an alley even darker than the street, she knew that she was in the right place. The only man capable of helping her save Benjamin was right down there.

He could say no. He could tell her he wouldn’t help and if he did, she had nowhere left to turn.

The cab driver twisted to rest an arm over the chair beside him to look through the scratched screen between them. “Want me to take you back uptown, miss?”

“No,” she said quickly, but swallowed just as fast. “No, I… I’m fine. Thank you.”

Giving him the fare on the meter, Rora, as she was known to her friends, licked her lips and steeled herself. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy, but she hadn’t fought this hard for this long, just to give up at the first bump.

Not that this was the first. It seemed that since she’d started this mission, all she’d hit were bumps. If anything, she hoped this fear was going to be one of the last. Best case scenario, she went down there, found this guy without any trouble, and he agreed to help. If he was as good as his legend told, she could be back out of there in minutes, on the street, clutching an address and embracing a glimmer of light at the end of this arduous tunnel.

“Word to the wise,” the cab driver said, sorrowful when their eyes met. “At the first sign of trouble, turn, run, and don’t look back. Even the cops don’t venture into these parts.”

Good to know. That knowledge didn’t ease her anxiety, it reinforced her determination. “I passed the first sign of trouble a long time ago, sir,” she said, and didn’t let herself take the time to appreciate his sympathetic smile.

Rora opened the cab door and got out. Taking a few steps forward, she waited for the cab to speed off, but it didn’t.

So, holding her hood over her face, she kept going, crossing the sidewalk to venture into the narrow alley. The further down she got, the greater the darkness became. It closed around her, consuming and polluting her with its intensity and hunger. But she didn’t stop.

Her skin began to vibrate and the vague sound of heavy rock music met her ears. There was something down here. Something she couldn’t see. The rain got harder. It was a wonder it managed to penetrate this enclosed alley at all, but she felt it on the back of her hands that clasped the edges of her hood.

When she heard the spin of tires, she paused to glance over her shoulder; the end of the alley was little more than a slit, giving a sparse view of the dark street beyond. The cab driver must have been making sure she wasn’t going to change her mind and flee. Either that or he’d seen something, or someone, approaching that made him nervous. Whatever the reason, he was gone.

But she was here now. This was it. There was no backing out.

Venturing forward again, Rora zeroed in on the grimy brick wall up ahead. In it were two doors, painted black, neither more appealing than the other. Having no idea which to choose, she wondered if it made a difference, one could be locked, or maybe they led to the same place.

Her eyes were darting back and forth between them, trying to make a decision, when the one on the left opened. The flare of music and the escape of smoke gave her the only clue she needed.

Hurrying on, Rora meant to catch the door before it closed. She did manage to catch it and was grateful that she had because the smooth surface didn’t appear to have any handle. What she hadn’t counted on facing were the two mammoth-sized bikers who came out, almost knocking her onto her ass.

The first, chewing some kind of stick, glared at her, but stepped aside, more confused by her presence than intrigued by it. The second seemed to be the same; he clucked at her and followed his buddy to the right, without saying anything to her, but mumbling something to his friend.

Few people knew this place existed; she never had.

Holding the door, she had no choice except to round it and go inside. The bass of the music hit her. It wasn’t too loud that she couldn’t hear the susurration of conversation—some pleasant, some questionable—but it was turned up so high that it knocked her heart from its rhythm.

There was so much to take in that her senses almost overloaded. It was dark, so dark that her eyes couldn’t adjust for a clear minute. When they did, she could that she was at the top of three stairs, with the room laid out beneath her.

Lewd graffiti graced the walls along with posters of naked women, heavy rigs, and choppers. The vague lighting came from random neon signs dotted on the walls around the room. One stated, “Girls! Girls! Girls!” But she didn’t see any girls.

It was man after man, at least sixty of them, packed into this space probably meant for less than half that number. But the fire code wouldn’t be the main concern of this establishment. She didn’t know if this kind of place had any concerns.

The Last Resort wasn’t on any map or in any phone book.

The room smelled of beer and weed. Smoke hung in the air, and just about every patron held something in their hand that shouldn’t be there. Guns, spliffs, chains, everyone was prepared for fun or violence, and she’d guess these guys would consider both a good time. The smoking ban had been in place for years in this state, but she supposed that wasn’t a consideration either. Like the cab driver said, cops didn’t venture near here, and God help anyone who tried to hand out a fine in here.

Fearful of drawing attention to herself, Rora knew she should move from her slightly elevated position. Though at only five foot five inches tall, she wasn’t towering above any of these guys, most of whom seemed to be six foot tall and then some, and all appeared to be over two hundred pounds.

With her heart pounding in her chest, she took a step forward, still scanning the room. The darkest corner, that’s where she’d been told to find her last hope. The bar was in one back corner, the restrooms in another. The third corner was probably the best lit in the place and the fourth, over her right shoulder… there was no light, but there was a booth… she was almost sure there was… something…

Squinting to see if there was a person seated there, she saw a brief flash of red light. It didn’t come from a person, it came from a… laptop. Yes, on the table was a laptop, as black as the night she’d left behind the door, that’s where the red light had come from.

Figuring he had to be there, she hurried down the stairs thanking her lucky stars. He was right there, twenty feet from the door, she didn’t have to go deep into the place to reach her last hope, she could—

A hulking form stepped in front of her making her gasp and come to an abrupt halt so she didn’t run right into him.

Tipping her head up slowly, Rora inhaled again when she registered his narrow eyes boring into her. This guy had to be seven feet tall. Twice the width of her, with room to spare, he was the epitome of what she imagined mean would look like if it morphed into a person. His massive, bare arms were adorned with chain link bracelets at the wrists and a length of actual chain hung around his shoulder, swinging over his tattooed bicep.

Though it wasn’t just his bicep that had ink, it appeared to be all over him, down to the backs of his hands that rose when he folded his arms across that impressive chest. Color of some sort adorned his neck, creeping right up to the beard on his chin.

This was no accident, he hadn’t just happened to cross her path, he was blocking her way, and she had no idea how to deal with him. Rora couldn’t fight. She could run, but that meant giving up, and she had no intention of doing that. Not that running was any guarantee of escape, she’d passed a few tables already, if this hulk called out and told his buddies to stop her, she’d be trapped in an instant.

“You’re in the wrong place, tiny,” he said, his voice so deep it was almost inaudible.

Snatching her shoulder, he spun her around and began to haul her back toward the door. “No,” she said, but fighting was useless. Her resistance was insignificant and though she tried to turn back, and to pull away, he just kept on going. “Please, no! I need to—please!”

He hauled her up the stairs, grabbed the door and tossed her out. “Don’t be coming back, crazy kook!”

Oh, that was one button no one was allowed to push. “Hey!” she said, grabbing his wrist in both hands before he could go back inside. “Don’t call me crazy! I am not crazy!”

Bending, he scowled into her. “Any woman who walks through that door is crazy. We got a no-woman-allowed policy.”

“That’s sexist bullshit,” she called out, determined to hold on even when he tried to shake her off. “I am coming in there! I am going to keep on coming back until I do what I came to do!”

“And I’ll keep throwing you out,” he said. “Don’t matter if it’s once or a hundred times, I’m here every night, knock yourself out, keep me entertained. And we don’t bar women by choice; we do it for their safety.”

Again, he tried to turn and walk away. Rora bent her knees, pulling him back harder, using all her weight to make her point. “Please,” she said. “I just need to talk to someone. Let me talk to him, after that, I’ll leave, I won’t cause any trouble. I won’t come back. I promise.” Considering her, he was probably trying to figure out why she’d put herself at risk like this, but that should prove how serious she was. “Please, would I be here if I had any other choice? I’m desperate… please.”

“Who you looking for? I’ll go bring him out.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that would be amazing. Thank you!”

“He didn’t knock you up, did he?” he asked, holding up two hands, each twice the size of her face. “ ‘Cause I ain’t getting my hands dirty in any bastard’s personal shit like that.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, nothing like that. I need to talk to Exile, that’s it. Just him.”

His slightly parted lips closed causing his teeth to clack together. His expression didn’t change and for half a beat, she wondered if maybe he didn’t know the guy she was looking for. That would be just her luck. But before she could recount what she’d been told about where to find Exile, the guy dropped the door, letting it close hard behind him.

His burst of laughter hit her hard. Rora was still stunned by its force when he slapped his belly, laughing so hard that she thought there might be moisture in the corners of his eyes. Well so much for him being mean. Displaying this kind of hilarity made him lose his edge.

“Did I say something funny?”

He breathed in, arching his back and tossing his chin toward the wet sky. “Oh, I was right, you are loopy-loo,” he said, sighing out a high-pitched sound of humor.

“Excuse me? I don’t appreciate you calling me names. All I want to do is talk to the guy, what’s so funny about that?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to recover from his laughter. Once he’d managed to straighten his face, he took another breath. “There’s no one here by that name.”

He tried to turn away, but she grabbed his wrist again. “No one has a reaction like that to someone they’ve never heard of. You know him. It’s obvious that you do.”

“Tiny, you’re insane,” he said, tugging his hand away from her with enough force that she stumbled forward. “Exile doesn’t come out and talk to strays. He doesn’t talk to no one.”

“I’m not a stray… and I can pay.”

His brows rose. “You say that to any other guy in there and he’d bite your hand off. Ex doesn’t give a damn about money.”

“What does he give a damn about?”

He folded his arms, returning to his intimidating pose. “Best I can tell? Not a damn thing,” he said. “But he’s not a big talker.”

“But, I—”

“Look, lady, I don’t know what you think you read on some website or what your nutso friends told you, you don’t play with Exile. No one plays with him. And the guy’s got no sense of humor, about anything. What do you think you know about him?”

“He has skills,” she said and he bobbed his head in agreement. “Skills that I need him to use to help me.”

Instead of the pity the cab driver laid on her, this guy was incredulous, but not in a sympathetic way. He seemed to be getting more annoyed by the second. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re inviting into your life if you talk to him. You know they say his only goal in life is to break every law there is. Do you know why they call him Exile?” She shook her head. He came closer. “Because they say he has no nationality, no country. He doesn’t come from anywhere. He has no parents. No family. And he sure as hell has no friends. They say he was spawned by the devil, some say he isn’t even human.”

“A fairytale,” she said, recognizing exaggeration when she heard it.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I can tell you he’s wanted in every state, by every major agency across the world, and Interpol couldn’t track him. He’s impossible to hold. Evidence disappears. Information vanishes… People die… He doesn’t exist.”

“Yet he’s sitting in that bar right now,” she said, nodding past him.

He shrugged. “Maybe. We’ve been out here talking for a few minutes; he could be out of the country already.”

“I’m not law enforcement. I don’t care about what he’s done or where he’s wanted. All I want is help.”

“He won’t help you. He’s not for hire.”

“I heard he likes a challenge,” she said. “And that he has an interest in the Black Jewel.”

This time when he scowled at her, Rora read ignorance; he didn’t know what she was talking about. She didn’t expect him to, she hadn’t heard of the Black Jewel before she started this journey. Rora still didn’t even know what it was.

The door opened, hitting her associate in the back. Anger made him tense as he spun, but when a guy in jeans and a leather jacket came out of the bar, her new acquaintance relaxed.

“Strike, you out?” he asked.

“Sure am, Buddy,” Strike said, glancing at her. Buddy lifted a fist, Strike bumped it with his. “Little vanilla for you, isn’t she?”

“You want her?” Buddy asked.

Her mouth fell open.

“You paid for the privilege?” Strike asked.

Rora inhaled her shock, but they carried on discussing her like she was deaf.

“Not yet, but I might be able to make a deal. I know what she wants.”

Strike’s chest expanded. “They all want the same thing. The last fucking shred of our dignity.” He turned up the collar of his jacket, scanned her figure one more time and then went the same way the other guys had gone, down the perpendicular alley. But he wasn’t done. Without slowing or turning, Strike called out to them. “Let her in, Bud.”

She smiled, feeling triumphant, figuring that guy was the owner or manager or someone who had authority at Last Resort.

Buddy twisted and stepped back, hooking a finger into a hole at the top of the door she hadn’t seen. It was a good thing he was here to open it for her because she’d never have reached that notch herself. No wonder they had a no woman policy and every guy in there was so tall, the only way in was to reach that tiny groove, all the way up there.

This time because she knew what to expect, she didn’t let the place shock her. Rora also didn’t spend any time loitering on the stairs. Hurrying down them, she ignored the music and the smell and the patrons and went straight to the table in the corner.

The bubble of her optimism that had been infused with adrenaline and hope, burst in one devastating moment. There was no one at the table, it was empty. No one sat on either of the two seats fixed against the corner wall. There was no computer. No drink. No sign anyone had ever been there. Had she imagined the computer? The red light? The shadow seated in the corner?

A small rectangle, paler than the rest of the tabletop, drew her closer. What was that? Peering at it, she tilted her head and leaned down to inspect it. Except… Rora gasped when she recognized her own face on her driver’s license!

In a panic, she dug her hand into her pocket to tug out her wallet. She’d known better than to carry a purse tonight, thinking she’d hold onto her possessions if she kept them on her person. Apparently, even that hadn’t been a guarantee because when she opened her wallet, sure enough, there was an empty slot where her driver’s license usually fitted.

How had he done that?

Grabbing it off the table, she scrutinized it, but saw no notes or clues he may have wanted to pass to her. It was the same as it always had been with a nick in one corner and a glue smudge in the other.

It was her driver’s license.

How the hell did he get it? And why would he want it?

“That you?”

Slapping the card to her chest, Rora peeked up to see Buddy looming over her shoulder. “He stole from me.”

Buddy stuck out his bottom lip and nodded again. “I heard he does that.”

And if he took that, what else did he steal? Searching her wallet, nothing else appeared to be stolen. She had her phone in her other pocket and inside the case was…

Rora gasped. “Oh no.”

(C) Scarlett Finn 2018





Posted: August 6, 2016 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , ,

Raven FB


He’s mysterious and alluring,
Dominant and powerful.
He keeps her grounded,
And lets her fly.

After a date ends in disaster, Zara Bandini is drawn into a conspiracy of dark lies and hidden motives. Bidding farewell to blissful ignorance, she must betray those who trust her to prevent evil from murdering innocent civilians.

Raven guides her, shields her, and seduces her…
Now Zara has to protect her heart while saving the world.

Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.


First Raven

Raven Teaser2POSS


She boosted herself up using the bed as a support and encouraged him on by opening her mouth on his jaw to rasp her teeth on his stubble. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wanted to provoke him. To unleash the truth of his darkness that he tried so hard to hide. But before her tongue could meet his skin, he grabbed her face and urged her away.

He scowled, aiming his hostility toward her mouth. “You’re my plaything now. My house means my rules.”

Shoving her jacket and her shirt down her arms, he twisted her elbows to yank the apparel off and cast it aside. Unsatisfied with what he’d revealed, he ripped the fabric strip connecting her bra cups to expose her breasts.

He bent his knees to collect up her half-naked body and closed his mouth on one breast while perching her on the frame of his bed. Hooking her feet on the plank that supported the mattress, she opened her legs around him to arch herself into his imploring mouth. He sucked and licked one breast, and took the other in his palm to fondle it. Then, sucking his mouth free of her bosom for long enough to lick his fingertips, he swirled and circled her nipples between them, alternating his fingers and his mouth, until the cramp in her belly made her hiss.

Massaging her nipples with the pads of his thumbs, he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Oh, she’s pretty,” he said with perverse pleasure. “Knows just what that hot body can get her.”

Her constricted lungs barely allowed words to seep from the threshold of her mouth. “There’s only one thing I want,” she ground the words out through her gritted teeth.

Zara combed her fingers into his hair as he moved south to kiss her chest again. When he snagged her nipple in his teeth, she coiled her digits tight against his scalp.

Pulling the taut peak in his mouth with him as he retreated, he only released it when it would come no further. “You think you’ll find it here?” he asked.

Sliding her hands through his tresses, to his jaw and up to his face, she compelled his head up, away from its task, so that she could look him in the eye. “I already have,” she said and wrapped her legs around him.

As her ankles locked, he reached around to grab them and wrench them apart. Using his hold on her limbs, he yanked her forward, forcing her to stand. One of his strong hands drove itself beneath her waistband and sent her skirt fluttering to the floor, before he stepped back to get a better view. Left in only her panties and stockings, she was fired up by being on show for him, and from the reaction in his jeans, she’d say he liked what he saw.

“She’s naughty,” he muttered as though to himself. “Do you like dressing dirty?” With one arm, he lunged forward to capture her. He yanked her body onto his so tight that she struggled to breathe. But she loved the way he held her, how his strength could overpower her. Despite what he was capable of, he could never use that strength or his lethal skills against her. Having immunity from him was a thrill in itself. “You dress to drive men wild?”

“I dress for me,” she said, trying to push away from his embrace simply because she knew she couldn’t.

Using his mass, he crushed her against the end of the bed. She was lost in the intensity of his eyes, but yelped when he snatched her panties and ripped them away from her fizzing skin before he let his other arm enclose around her.

When he bowed nearer, she tipped her head back to avoid his kiss, because riling him enlivened her. But he opened his mouth and sucked the neck she’d exposed for him.

The bite of power in that kiss made her yelp. “Oh, God…”



Amazon US

Amazon UK


Find chapter one on Scarlett’s website at:


Writer of the Explicit Series, Scarlett Finn has published over a dozen romance novels.

Finding her solace in books, reading and writing have been her eternal companions through all the highs and lows of life.

Be it romantic suspense or contemporary romance, she loves to explore the mystery of love and is guided by the complex heroes and strong heroines who lead the way.

Writing what she loves to read, her raunchy novels jump into action from page one and keep the reader on their toes all the way to the end.

It’s an adventure and you’re invited along for the ride!









GR Author:





Amazon US
Amazon UK



We all spend so much time thinking about what is not done, “You didn’t take out the trash,” “you forgot to buy milk…” etc. that we so often fail to notice the things that are done.
Taking things for granted in life is something we have all been guilty of. That’s why so often praise or gratitude is surprising, quite often if people show me gratitude for something I think it’s the start of a joke :p
Don’t for a second think that I’m going to start singing about appreciating the warmth of the sun on your face and the sweet, delicate melody of the birds chirpring in the trees. By all means appreciate those things, you should. But today I want to think about appreciating the other humans around us.
Now I know it’s easy to get mad at the kids, and at your husband when he didn’t “hear” you tell him about the neighbour’s dinner party. You should get mad, I’m sure they deserve your wrath 🙂 But we are nothing alone. Our family and our friends are what propel us forward. Our ambition determines how high we aim. But at the end of the day everyone needs help to achieve lofty goals.
So thank you. That’s really the aim and simplicity of this blog. Every single person who reads this is doing me a kindness. Every person who reads my books, love or loathe, review or not, you’re all doing something nice for me.
I have to show my gratitude to you all. If I could thank every person who bought my book, or read my comments on social media, then I would. But I think I would come off as a bit creepy if I started following all you guys around.
So I want to take this chance, on this platform, to thank you all for having faith enough to take a risk and read my work. All of you are valuable to me, and if I could show you my gratitude personally I would… in a completely non kinky way, promise, lol.
So often we hear about authors, of all varieties, and we hear of publishers, and of distributors, so often the reader is overlooked. There is no industry without you guys. Would it matter if half the writers out there stopped writing? Not as much as if half the readers suddenly stopped reading. You have to be respected by authors, all of you, by every part of the machine. Don’t underestimate your power. By sheer will alone you have the power to change the market. Pick a book you love and tell everyone you know, they tell everyone they know, and suddenly this little pile of words that spoke to you has taken the world by storm. That is the power you have.
Writers shouldn’t be revered, yes, they should be respected for the hard work and perseverance that it takes to produce the goods because it is a long journey. But that journey has no destination without the reading community. Yes, writers are readers, they have to be, there’s absolutely no equivocation on that, but we’re not the most important ones.
The most important person in a writer’s world is… you. Not the guy next to you, not the guy running the country, not even the distributors and publishers who are slugging it out. Let them have their war. This is about you. I have to connect to you. I have to work hard, for you. No one else. I don’t do it because I think I’m going to tempt a million readers. I want to connect with you. I want my words to affect your life, even if only for a few seconds. I want them to provoke a reaction. I want your heart to beat faster, or I want it to spasm with sorrow. I want you to laugh. I want you to cry. I want you to care.
My characters don’t belong to me. They are yours, they are what is in your heart, and in your head. They are what you want them to be. All I do is assemble thoughts and scenarios, the emotion is yours, it’s in you, you make the story what it is.
So thank you for taking a risk. Thank you for reading. Thank you for infusing my stories with sensation. Your wonderful mind processes the words I put together and causes that sentiment to your senses. You see it, you feel it. You are the story. It is for you. You have my eternal gratitude.

Good luck on your adventures,



I had a moment of clarity this week, which is great. On the back of that revelation I then made two decisions and one mistake.
Want to know about my epiphany moment? Well, as counter-intuitive as this may sound I realised: good reviews actually help me improve more than bad ones do. I know this might sound backward. Maybe you think it’s just my ego dismissing negative reviews as obvious garbage. A lot of them are not, but a lot of them are. People who enjoyed reading my work, those that leave positive reviews, actually care about the novel and I find that people will often point out areas for improvement. They also point out what works, what they enjoyed, thus allowing me to become aware of what I am doing successfully.
Most bad reviews tend to be about slinging insults or they’re completely unhelpful like, “hated it”, or “rubbish”, those might be valid opinions but they don’t really help me improve as an author.
So my two decisions? The first was to forget all about reviews completely. I decided that I would pick a day of the month to read them all, good and bad. Amazon don’t notify authors of reviews so we have to check just like the rest of you do. It can be a hold your breath, close your eyes, ignore your pounding heart moment when you click through your titles (on the different territory websites). I don’t check reviews as often as I used to. In the early days I was on every day, hoping and praying that someone enjoyed my work. Now I try to only look if I’m doing something else, lol.
The second decision was to reach out more to those who do enjoy my work, and ask them about areas I’m uncertain of. Like tonight on Facebook I asked about the frequency of sex my characters should enjoy. The question was on the back of a reviewer mentioning that they believed there was too much sex. It was a positive review and it was superb. But it’s exactly what gave me my epiphany moment. The reader enjoyed the work and reviewed but also pointed out something specific that I could look at again. It was brilliant for me! Honestly, it was a great experience. The reviewer made me think about my work. I asked people who I knew had read my work what they thought, and so I moved forward. I felt like I had progressed, something had been done.
So fantastic, all very good, right? Well, yeah, but then I made a mistake. It wasn’t really a mistake. Well, ok, yes, I suppose it was. But it was unintentional. I went to a website that carries one of my novels, a website I hadn’t checked since loading the novel. What did I find? A bad review. A long bad review. I read it – of course – and now I feel like complete crap and I don’t want to write any more tonight. It’s ludicrous that I should let one opinion sap my mojo but it’s done. I can’t undo it.
I’ll wake up tomorrow stronger. These things don’t last forever. But my mood is low, my creativity has been flushed away, and anyone who says they are always completely unaffected by bad reviews is lying.
I made the decisions, stuck with it, felt good, moved forward, and now it’s four steps back.
Anyway, the original premise is still in place. I’ll stick with my two decisions. But damn, I wish I hadn’t read that. It’s so typical, isn’t it? You’re free and flying high, then your wings melt.
Thank you for the support you’ve all given me though. I do feel petulant in moments like this. I know it’s dramatic. It’s irrational and uncalled for. But it’s honest and that’s all I can be. The positive support has been overwhelming and I still struggle to comprehend how any of this is real. People have read my work. Wow… I’m… it’s just amazing. Thank you everyone.

Good luck on your adventures,


Headless chicken

I promise to write something meaningful as soon as I have time to spare! But in the meantime I wanted to let you know that Explicit Instruction is on Goodreads! So check it out, there is a review there already, and remember to add it to your lists!


Good luck on your adventures,


Sneaky peek… like this page for more in the future…

Check out the taster…

Mistake Me Not – Free!

I actually mean it this time :p it turns out that not everything is quite how it seems. But in an attempt not to disappoint this is a link to Mistake Me Not – free for real and for all.

Free on Amazon now!

Mistake Me Not – Free on Amazon now!

It’s been a while I know but I’ve been a busy bee. I should say upfront that Mistake Me Not is free on Amazon at the moment so please feel free to check it out if you haven’t already, and please let any curious friends know too.
I’m outlining the details of a new project at the moment, which I am thrilled about. Rivals ON AIR has been edited and will be released at the beginning of May!
My new project is another romantic suspense novel; it starts with the heroine’s cab breaking down and her day goes from that to worse 🙂 I’m very excited about it but I’m very excited about everything I write. With this novel I’m having a debate with myself about how much – or rather how graphic – I want to make the intimate scenes. Those that I have sketched are quite graphic but I want to be loyal to my audience. Some books don’t require details and sometimes it feels natural so I’ll consider the different avenues.
As I’ve said in the past I have several novels finished. My decision at the moment is about if I should carry on editing and releasing, or if I should just concentrate on my writing.
Since I’ve started publishing I have enjoyed getting my work out there to be read. Some characters, or situations, in particular stick out for me and I’d like others to enjoy them too. I have two in mind for release next (whether now or later). I won’t make a final decision until after I’ve got my new project laid out, and seen how Rivals ON AIR goes across.
With the spring break I’ve had my son, and my relatives, around so it’s taken some time away from my usual work routine – hence the delay in blogging. When I write something for you guys I like to think it can be informative and entertaining. So what should I do? Are you more interested in how I lay projects out? How I edit? Or how I choose what to release and when?
I have to say that while I love all of my work I am leaning a little toward the next Stone Investigations installment. But quantity isn’t as important as quality and so I might wait until I’m a novel ahead on that one. Mistake Me Not has been received well, and I’ve been grateful for all your words of support. I can’t wait for you all to read Rivals ON AIR, and if anyone wants another sneak peek of that one let me know. I’m happy to reward those of you who go through the process with me because writing here does help me out.
So I’ll leave you to your reading time. I’ll get my little one back to school and get back to my routine then we’ll see where the adventure takes us. I can’t wait.


We all have it in us...

We all have it in us…

There aren’t enough hours in the day. Shoehorning in the time to do all of the things that we need to do is hard enough, let alone trying to fit in the things we want to do.
We’re back! Might not mean much to most of you; my son and I have been away this week but we’re home now. My work schedule over the weekend is jam packed, simultaneously I’ll be trying to get my inspiration onto paper. Every once in a while inspiration hits, sometimes I enjoy it in the moment then mentally move on. Other times one idea leads to another and before you know it I’ve got half a novel in my head – and half a novel is all it takes.
So while parenting, running my business, and editing Rivals ON AIR (it has a name now), I am getting my inspiration onto paper. The funny thing is the idea struck me a while ago and I’ve been musing on it. But during the long drive home I pondered it. I don’t need a lot of brainpower for staying on the road it seems, lol.
I get so much enjoyment out of writing that the extra work isn’t a chore for me. I often feel for Val my Vaio because she gets less rest than I do. From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed my computer is on. It’s never off. I at least get pleasure from my writing, the computer can’t say the same thing; though being inanimate probably helps.
Anyway, let’s talk about Rivals ON AIR. I’m so pleased I’ve decided on the title. Oddly, naming things can be the most difficult part of the process. The title has to be catchy, and if possible weave into the story in more than one way. This one does it for me. I can’t wait for you all to get to know Hunter and Annie, I hope you all grow to love them as I do.
A story can be expanded and trimmed. Ideas incorporated whilst others are thrown out. The process is dynamic, it has to be organic (as Annie would say) and getting the details straight in the course of the story is of course paramount. So many times I’ve got an idea into my head and I rush off to get it out of me but find myself stumbling over the first hurdle… who are these people?
I’m not sure how many of you are writers and so I wouldn’t want to be teaching you how to suck eggs (lovely expression, eh?) so suffice to say that not getting the details hammered out early can lead to delays further down the line.
As far as marketing goes I’m at a bit of an impasse because I just don’t have the time to do it properly. Then again, even if I did have the time I probably wouldn’t have the money. One avenue that I’ve used with both Mistake Me Not and XY Factor I’ve decided isn’t worth the money – two avenues actually but I called the first a dud a while ago.
Truthfully, I do what I can but as all indie writers know the curse of the review – or rather lack thereof – can make or break us. Readers don’t review very often and so without the word of others to encourage would-be readers of our work we’re a bit stuck. I can tell you how great my novel is until I’m blue in the face but I wrote it so I’m ever so slightly biased.
So I trundle on. I’ll get the boring stuff out the way and get Rivals ON AIR released when I can though there’s no real rush. I’m excited about it but I’m the only one – and I’ve read it! Hehe.
Have fun y’all, don’t work too hard, and remember to always make time for fun!

Have fun on your adventures,


Write, write, and write again...

I love to write – yes, contain your gasps of surprise – it’s hard work but fun, so I don’t really notice the work part very often. Every person’s process is different; please note that I said “person” because most people do write at least on occasion. Whether you’re jotting down a lunch order, or writing a memo, writing takes time from all of our lives. We have our internal codes, little notations in the way we reference certain things so as to be assured we remember them or act correctly; our own writing flair, if you will.
The difference of recreational writing – and I mean beyond just your usual plot, characters, themes, style etc. – is that once is never enough. I’m editing at the moment as anyone who’s read my Facebook page knows. Editing is a difficult process. It’s not quite as fun as the writing part, but it is good to relive what you have created.
As I’m sure most of you are aware a key part of the editing process is walking away, yes you heard me right – walking away. Once you have finished a (in my case) novel there’s a buzz. A “yippee it’s done”, then you back-up once on the flash pen, and again on two separate Clouds just in case, and then you close the file. If you’ve been ensconced in the characters world for weeks and months walking away can throw you a bit off kilter. But I take a deep breath, make a coffee, and think about what’s next – which is not editing.
Walking away gives time and space for your brain to snap back into reality then gives you distance to allow a better perspective – at least in theory – and it works for me. Editing can be a slog, and if I’m tired I stop because I don’t want to get lazy, lol. But over the years I’ve adjusted my process and I’ve found tricks to make the procedure better and more interesting.
So I’m rambling about editing because it’s relevant to what I’ve been up to. But I’m blogging because I have a conundrum. Being an indie author is great because you have the freewill to enjoy the process without being bogged down in the business side of things. But the difficulty in that is you also have to make your own decisions.
Here’s my point, Mistake Me Not has gone out and people seem to enjoy reading Lacie and Ryder’s tale as much as I did creating it. But I have another standalone novel, which has been finished for a while, and I’m just going through the editing process with now.
So here’s the question, do I carry on editing and get the standalone out there ASAP? Or do I go back to finish the next novel in the Stone Investigations series? The next one is basically done; I’ve got enough mapped out for another couple.
Anyhow, I want to ensure that my readers have what they want, and I’m happy to accommodate them. But while I’m still trying to carve out a fan base I’m getting little feedback so I have no idea what people want!
I have to say a special thank you to those who “liked” and “followed” the blog after my last post. It really meant a lot to me that you showed the love 😀 I really appreciate it.
So what I’m going to do is keep playing with Hunter and Annie (standalone) because those guys are fun and I’ve neglected them for a while. I haven’t figured out a title yet, which will be a blog for another day – “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”.
As always any questions or comments are welcome and in the meantime just remember – in life we get only one take; and all editing is subjective. 😉

Good luck on your adventures,