A Classic High Fantasy Tale -sneak peek

Magic Denied is up for pre-sale! It’ll be released on August 1st. So if you’re looking for:

  • a sweet-clean romance
  • high fantasy
  • coming of age
  • Rapunzel inspired

go and check it out on Amazon. It’s available in Kindle Unlimited, ebook, and paperback.

Amazon.com

A few weeks ago, I shared part of the first chapter with you. If you missed it, here’s a direct link to the content. Sneak Peek

Below is the second part of the first chapter, which is really a prologue. I hope you enjoy it.

“Dragons?” The king’s cheeks went a few shades whiter.

Good, thought Calliope. Perhaps he will finally understand the threat.

Emboldened, Calliope continued, “Dragons were once dedicated service animals, much like horses are today. A young prince born of magic loved his dragon and shared his magic with the animal. This magic gave the dragon human-like intelligence that turned to arrogance.”

The king scoffed. “Fairy tales.”

Calliope raised an eyebrow at the monarch’s attitude but continued her story. “In their arrogance, the dragons no longer desired to serve humans. Instead, they sought out more magic so they could take on the form of humans. Because their magic was originally from a human child born of magic, they sought out these children and took their magic, killing many of them in the process. It has been more than a hundred years since the last human child of magic was born. During that time, the dragons lost interest in non-magical humans and stopped terrorizing our kingdoms.

“If you go through with your plan to birth a child of magic, the dragons will return. They will search for your kingdom. When they find you, they will destroy you.”

The fire crackled and snapped in the pause that followed. The ache in her bones drained from her at having passed on the whole truth to the monarchs. She’d delivered the warning.

“But why aren’t the dragons drawn by you or the other witches in the kingdom?” The queen’s question hung in the air.

Calliope’s eyes held the queen’s in an unspoken response. She couldn’t tell the queen she wasn’t fully human. It was a closely guarded secret for the elves and Fae. Calliope cleared her throat. “Witches have ancestral magic passed down from one generation to the next. This does not attract dragons. Your child will be fully human and will have new magic.” It wasn’t a complete answer and merely skirted around the truth.

“And dragons are drawn to new magic?” the queen asked.

Calliope nodded.

The king leaned forward. His attitude seemed to have sobered some. “You saw that dragons would be drawn to the kingdom because of our child?”

Calliope took a quick sip of her tea. It had cooled to a comfortable warmth. “I did.”

“The child?” The queen gripped her husband’s arm.

Calliope closed her eyes, hesitating to tell the last piece of her vision. “There is a possibility the child will save you.”

“A possibility? Tell us.” The queen’s knuckles whitened. The king peeled his wife’s hand off his arm.

“After the child is born, you will leave the child with me to raise.”

The king’s face turned red. “Impossible. Our child will be the next monarch who must learn the ways of the court.”

“And the child shall.”

“How?” The king’s voice was sharp. His eyes narrowed.

“Will we be able to visit our child?” the queen asked.

Calliope nodded to the queen. “Whenever you wish. The child will be protected. I will see to it myself. As to training, you can provide tutors or educate the child yourself. But the child must also learn to control their magic. Only this will spare your kingdom.”

The king grunted. “And what do you ask in exchange for this service? Surely, this is how you will make your riches while bleeding our coffers.”

The monarch’s words bit into Calliope, but she shrugged them off. She was surprised she’d gotten this far with them. She thought for sure they’d give up when she asked to raise the child.

“I ask for nothing other than food and clothing. I will devote myself to your child and no other service,” Calliope said.

“Why?” the queen asked.

Calliope rested a hand on her chest. “Because I, too, care about this kingdom and do not wish to see it destroyed. However, before I give you the potion, there is one thing further you must know. It may sway your decision.”

“Tell us.” The queen placed her empty cup on the table between them.

“There is a young son born to a farmer in the pasture lands. He’d make a perfect king if given the chance.” Calliope paused and shifted her eyes between the monarchs to study their reactions. “This option will spare your kingdom trouble.”

The king clamped his lips shut and looked at his wife. They shared another long stare as if silently communicating. Calliope lowered her head. She knew the king and queen were not interested in the farm boy. They wanted an heir of their blood.

“We will take the potion and accept the cost. What is a kingdom without a ruler?” the king asked, his voice resigned.

Calliope set her untouched tea down on the table. “And you accept my terms?”

The queen nodded. “You will raise our child.”

Calliope went to the kitchen. Her movements were smooth, and pain didn’t accompany each step. She pulled out the small concoction she’d prepared yesterday with a small cloth package. She handed both items to the queen.

“You will drink this before going to bed.”

The queen held up the small vial of murky liquid and then the package. “And this?”

“It is cress, picked from my garden. It is filled with nutrients that will help you in your pregnancy.”

“Cress,” the queen whispered.

The king shifted his stance. His boots scraped against the wooden floors. He was probably eager to leave. “Witch, we thank you for your service to the crown.”

Calliope held the door open and leaned against it. “Just remember our deal. I expect you to return in nine months with your daughter.”

The king snapped his jaw shut. His cheek twitched as he ground his teeth. His lips formed a stern line.

“We will.” The queen nudged her husband. “This is for the future of our kingdom and our family. We will.”

Calliope closed the door after them, not bothering to watch their carriage leave. She leaned her back against the door. The king and queen had made their choice, and the kingdom would pay a costly price. She’d seen the future, and offering to raise the child was the most she could do.

Thanks for reading! If you’re interested to learn more about this mysterious child born of magic, you can get your copy on Amazon.

Cover Reveal and Behind the Scenes: Building Rapunzel

A few weeks ago, I shared a sneak peek at my Rapunzel retelling. If you didn’t get a chance to read it, you can click here: Sneak Peek.

I’m super excited about this story. It’s presently with an editor in the final stages and available for pre-sale on Amazon! The pre-sale date is listed as October. However, since the editing is progressing well, the date will be moved up to August.

You can check out the book blurb here:

Also exciting is the cover. If you haven’t gone to check out the book on Amazon, then take a look at the cover! The colors are warm and inviting, drawing you in.

So perhaps you’re looking at the cover and wondering about the dragon. Maybe you’re recalling the Rapunzel story and thinking, ‘I don’t remember a dragon.’ And you’d be correct. However, in exploring the story, the basics are still in place. Here’s what you can expect:

  • Rapunzel still has long hair.
  • She’s still trapped in a tower, but instead of waiting for a Mr. Charming to save her, she decides to do some saving.
  • There is still a love interest that is, of course, sweet/clean or low spice, as all my writing is.

And what about all my re-imaging the beloved tale? What can you expect? Well, I won’t give you any spoilers, but here’s a tasty morsel or two.

  • I’ve changed Rapunzel’s name to Cress. The original stories were in Italian, French, and German. In the German version, the word rapunzel represents an edible plant. Essentially, Rapunzel’s mom craved the vegetable while pregnant. Her husband stole the plant for a witch, and then later, the witch stole the child. In my re-telling, the witch gives the parents an edible plant, ‘cress’, when they ask for a fertility potion.
  • Cress has magic! You’ll have to read the story to find out how she has magic and who she uses it.
  • There are dragons, but you can already tell that from the cover. (I mean, who doesn’t love a book with dragons?)
  • Cress is integral to the saving of her kingdom. Major themes in the Rapunzel story are the empowerment of women and the discovery of one’s identity. There are part of the core theme and character arc of Cress.

So if you love fairy tale re-tellings. If you are looking for something to read this summer, then check out Magic Denied, A Rapunzel Retelling. You can find it available here:

Book Review: Operation Resolute -by Reece Landon

You know me well enough by now that for me to comment on genres other than fantasy is unusual. However, I do read the odd sci-fi/space opera book. Growing up, I was a fan of Star Trek DS9 and Voyager. I’m not in the newer T.V. shows simply because I don’t subscribe to cable.

Recently, I received an ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of Reece Landon’s Operation Resolute. I really enjoyed this read. It held my attention. In the blurb, Landon promises the book will be great for lovers of Voyager, and it is a true promise. The book holds to the same idea of a starship getting lost in another quadrant with unknown enemies. I felt connected to the story because of my love of space opera/sci-fi/Voyager. Overall, a good read.

There are a few things that could have been done slightly better. Some of the characters were hard to believe. They didn’t feel real and were just too made up. One character in particular was brash and overconfident with one group of people, and she was mean to her roommate. This character had a supporting role, and there was no backstory explaining her actions. She was hard to connect with, and her behavior was jarring.

There was more development with the captain of the ship, who breaks down during a major crisis. She was also a supporting character. However, this situation felt contrived and rather than natural. It seemed like the captain’s breakdown was to force the story along. These two characters left me a little frustrated.

On the other hand, the three POV (Point of View) characters were much more developed. Their motives and actions were clear. The story was also well structured and developed. There was a lot happening that kept me reading and curious to find out what happened.

Overall, the story was clean. I can’t remember any swear words. There was no explicit romance in the book, though attraction between two of the POV characters was definitely implied. These relationships will probably be developed in future books.

I will confess that while the story did finish, the ending was a clear cliffhanger into the next book. I don’t like cliffhangers, so this was disappointing. I’d like to read more from the author, but I’ll wait until the series is completed.

If you love space operas, then give this book a try. The story was engaging. The characters were interesting. Plus, this author has amazing potential. As the author’s skill grows, their writing will only improve, and their stories will only get better. I look forward to reading more from this author in the future.

Coming Soon: A Sneak Peek at a Rapunzel Re-Telling (And some of my methodology)

Fairy tale retellings are popular, and they can go from super dark to a sweet romance. You can find them as an urban fantasy spin-off. (Think of the recent T.V. series Once Upon a Time or Once.) Over the past year or so, I’ve mentioned them a few times in my newsletter or various blog posts.

Fairy tales are time-honored stories. They are retold to each generation, and in the retelling, they have changed. The original tales are very dark, so modern society has softened them. Along with the softening, the modern tales have also changed. In most of the original tales, a woman was treated cruelly or was under a curse. She essentially waited around for a prince to save her.

I’m not a fan of the passive princess. It doesn’t fit with our modern society, and it’s not a message I want in my books. Anyone in a committed relationship would resent a partner who waited for them to do everything. So I had to make some adjustments in my retellings.

In my research, I took the basic story and pulled the common elements from various versions. I created my female main character as someone who did the saving. Though I didn’t want her fighting alone either. She fights with the love interest and other characters to save herself and her kingdom.

My first fairy tale re-telling will be coming out later this year. So check out the sneak peek below. It’ll be available soon on Amazon if you’d like to pre-order a copy.

Calliope’s bones ached. She knew this day would come. Her elven gift of foresight had shown her this on the king’s wedding day. It had been ten years, and the royal couple still had not produced an heir. Yesterday, she gathered the needed herbs from her garden and prepared the potion they would request.

Calliope rocked in her chair. The warm blaze from the fireplace did little to drive the ache from her bones. She wasn’t old, nor was she arthritic. The weight of the king’s purpose created the bone-crushing squeeze. She knew what this request would cost the kingdom. She would do everything to dissuade the king and his queen from the fertility potion.

The jingle of horse tack was faint. If she concentrated, she heard the slight creak of the carriage wheels. She stoked the fire and added a log. Why had the vision come to her? Why was it hers to carry?

She pushed up from her chair and set a kettle over the fire for tea. Until magic was performed, there was always a chance to spare the outcome. The clomping of hooves grew louder.

As a child, Calliope spent hours practicing magic under the tutelage of her parents. When she came of age in her late teen years, she’d studied under one of the strongest magic wielders in the region. At first, learning the craft fascinated her. But as her knowledge grew, so did her respect for the price of magic. If the humans only knew, only understood, they would not seek her services.

“Whoa!” As a man’s voice commanded the horses, the jingle of tack slowed outside her door.

She didn’t bother looking out the window to confirm her suspicions. She knew it was the royal carriage. A moment later, there was a sharp rap on her door. Spikes of pain shot up her legs as she shuffled across the floor.

“Curse this magic and the king’s request,” Calliope muttered. It would serve no purpose for the royal to hear her complaints. He’d get an earful of her counsel before the visit was done.

She flung her door open to the king’s compacted but well-muscled stature filling her entrance. Calliope didn’t know if his station as monarch or his confident commanding demeanor allowed his presence to fill a room. Perhaps it was a bit of both. The queen’s lean form gave her an unexpected height, even though she stood no taller than her husband. Initially, perhaps because of the king, she went unnoticed. Crowded behind the couple were the faces of the royal guard.

“Your Majesties.” Calliope bowed her head in respect. She drew her shawl over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill of spring. “Come in. Come in. I’ve been expecting you and the queen.”

The king’s guard moved to enter Calliope’s cottage, but the king raised his hand. “We will speak with the witch alone.”

Calliope hated that the humans referred to her as a witch. But that was how humans referred to all who wielded magic. They were ignorant of the truth. Besides, very few knew Calliope’s real name. She was accustomed to being called Witch.

“But, Sir!” The guard closest to the door protested and stepped forward.

The monarch raised his hand again. “She will do us no harm. This is a private affair.”

The guard bowed and stepped back. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“You welcome us, Good Witch?” The queen peered openly at Calliope. Her eyes were wide. Her face still held youthful innocence.

Calliope stepped back from the door. “I’ve been expecting you. Come in.”

The king and queen entered. The queen’s dress was a simple pattern, but the embroidery on the blouse was intricate and detailed into numerous bunches of flowers. The king wore pants suitable for riding with knee-high boots and a shirt without a stiff collar. Both stood awkwardly in Calliope’s small kitchen. They were an odd mix of regal stances and tight eyes with slight nervous twitches. The queen twisted her gloves like she was wringing them for water.

Calliope waved to her small living room with her rocking chair and a short sofa. “Have a seat. I have tea ready.”

“I don’t think we’ll have time for tea,” the king said.

“We’ll accept whatever hospitality you offer,” the queen said.

“It’s good to know one of you has proper manners.” Calliope grabbed a thick, padded cloth. She eyed the king when she passed him, refusing to feel cowed by his position. She took the kettle from the fire and filled a teapot with a mixture of tea leaves and dried fruit. It was her concoction. A sweet citrus scent filled her home.

She set a tray with the teapot, teacups, and a few baked goods before the monarchs. “I know it has no comparison to your kitchens, but I offer my hospitality, humble though it may be.”

The queen poured a cup of tea for the king, one for Calliope, and then one for herself. Calliope lifted an eyebrow. It wasn’t often royalty served her, let alone before themselves.

“Thank you.” The queen took a sip from her steaming cup.

The king’s hand dwarfed his. He cleared his throat.

“You know why we are here?” The king’s eyebrow rose to accent his question.

Calliope nodded and blew on the steaming liquid. “I’ve seen this day. You are childless and have come to ask for a potion.”

The queen looked down. Had her bluntness unsettled the female monarch?

“I spoke too plainly. I meant no offense,” Calliope offered.

The queen’s eyes shone, and she offered a small smile. “No offense taken, but life at court is often about masking one’s thoughts and emotions. I am unaccustomed to hearing one speak so openly. Nevertheless, you have stated our purpose precisely.”

“We will pay for the potion. State your price.” The king flung the tea down his throat in one gulp.

Calliope chuckled. “The price of my potion? Do you not consider the price of magic?”

The royal couple shared a brief glance.

“What do you mean?” The king shifted in his seat.

“Magic always comes at a price. I can give you the potion, and you can pay me in gold or jewels.” Calliope shrugged. She didn’t practice her craft to become rich. She had too much respect for the working of magic to believe money could satisfy the cost.

“Then what cost do you speak of?” The queen asked.

Calliope studied her sincere face. “The question you must ask yourself is if the working of magic is worth the cost to you, and as monarchs, to your kingdom.”

“To threaten the kingdom or our royal person is an act of treason.” The king straightened.

Calliope held up her hand. “I do not threaten you. But you ask for a child, an heir. A child who is born of magic poses a strong chance of being a magic wielder as well.”

“We are accepting of magic and see no issue with this.” The king shook his head.

“A human child having magic may draw magical beasts to your kingdom, a kingdom that has been without war for centuries.”

The king waved his hand. “Then we will train and raise up soldiers to fight against any foe, great or small.”

“The king is great and speaks with confidence.”

The queen cleared her throat. “Surely, Good Witch, things can not be as bad as you speak. For no magical enemies have crossed our borders in search of the many witches who live peacefully here in our kingdom.”

Calliope wondered how much she should tell the monarchs. Witches weren’t human, at least not entirely. They were a mixed race of Fae and human or elf and human. A magic user’s ancestor left a trace of the hereditary magic and the level of magical power they carried. Calliope’s maternal side was an elf-human mix, which tended to have strong earth magic. Her paternal side was a Fae-human mix, which tended to have the ability to channel magic through objects.

“Our magic does not interest your enemies,” Calliope said as an explanation, deciding the king and queen didn’t need to know more.

“Then what threatens us?” the queen asked.

Calliope stared at the fire, longing for the ache in her bones to leave. Perhaps it would if she spoke the whole truth. And maybe the king and queen would understand the foolishness of this request.

“Dragons,” Calliope stated plainly.

I hope you liked this sneak peek of the beginning of my Rapunzel retelling, Magic Denied. Keep in mind it will go through a few more rounds of editing before its release. Let me know what you think.

Self-Publishing VS Traditional Publishing

Over the past few decades, the whole realm of independent publishing, self-publishing, or being an independent author has grown. Not only have independent authors increased, but the whole industry has developed.

A number of decades ago, a self-published author would write a memoir or a story. They would pay for a company to typeset, edit, create a cover, and bind the book. Then the author would have a garage full of a thousand books they don’t know what to do with.

Another scenario. An author would write a manuscript and submit it to an editor at a publishing. These editors would be overwhelmed with submissions. A lot of manuscripts saw what was known as ‘the slush pile’. A pile that might never be read. Or an editor-in-training might look at. If someone was discovered, then the writer had hope. The submissions were so numerous that publishing houses stopped receiving submissions.

Authors turned to agents. Agents would review manuscripts. If they thought it was something a publishing house might like, they’d pitch it to editors at the publishing houses. Much of this still happens today. And for authors who ‘make it’ that’s great.

So why the rise of independent authors? There are a lot of reasons, and I’ll give my own for choosing to go the route of self-publishing. Have I published traditionally? Yes.

Traditional publishing has a lot of wonderful qualities. They publish your work. They take care of all the publishing details (editing, printing, type-setting, cover design, etc). They have distributors, so your book will get into stores and be made available on all platforms.

With traditional publishing, the author still has to do a lot of the footwork for promoting their book. The author still has to build their social media presence. They still have to do book signings and events.

There are other sides of traditional publishing. If there is a new editor, they might choose different authors. Then that author will have to find a new editor/publishing house. If a book is overly popular, the author is stuck writing more of the same. This happened in the case of Agatha Christie.

While I absolutely loved the experience with a traditional publishing house, in the end, the book didn’t feel like mine. Essentially, all I did was write. The editor made a lot of decisions and changed a lot. The book design team made all the decisions regarding the layout. Someone made a cover. Everything came together, and it looked great. However, when I looked at the finished product, I thought, ‘my name is there, but it doesn’t really feel like it’s mine.’

With self-publishing, I get to make a lot of the decisions. Yeah, it is more work, but the product is mine. There is a sense of, ‘I did this.’ And that feels good.

I love reading self-published authors. There is so much creativity there, and there are many unique voices and ideas.

Self-publishing authors invest their own time and resources into their work. They pay thousands of dollars for editing, cover designs, typesetting, etc., before the book even hits the market. They do this with no guarantee that they’ll recover the cost. And authors might do this for a number of books before they start to see a profit.

Why? Why do we do this?

Honestly, we love writing. We love putting our work out there. Authors experience joy and satisfaction when readers love our work.

People ask me about my work and why I self-published. There is still some negativity attached to it. People will pass over a self-published book for something from a traditional publishing house. (They don’t know what they’re missing.) Sometimes people think a self-published book is poorly written and lacks editing. These days, most self-published books undergo multiple edits. And I’ve found typos and errors in books from traditional publishing houses. Overall, a self-published book is equal to a book from a traditional house. There is no competition.

Reading makes us better. It shares ideas and develops our thinking. If you love reading, then consider self-published authors and traditional books. Try mainstream and explore lesser-known works. If you love reading, then you’ll find hidden gems if you explore something a little different.

The Pendulum of Writing

People always tell me I’m good with words. Maybe I am. I don’t know. When I compare myself to other writers, I always admire what they do. And perhaps there are those who compare themselves to me. The comparison game should never be played, at least if we care about our mental health and well-being. Writers write and love words.

Because I love words and creative ideas, I’m always making notes. A unique idea pops into my head, and I play with it until there’s enough for a story. Then I spend my free time writing. Sometimes this takes a month, sometimes a few months. It depends on how much time I can dedicate to the story or the word count.

In the end, I have a finished first draft and it’s… brilliant! I usually read that first draft and think, ‘This is the best thing I’ve written’! I’m thrilled. I’m excited. And I can’t wait to publish.

Welcome to the cooling off period. This is when the book is put aside so I can create some distance between myself and my words. This is needed for the revision and editing stage.

During the revision and editing, the critical cap comes on, and that brilliant first draft loses its sparkle. Suddenly, all excitement is snuffed out, and I’m questioning what I saw in the manuscript. The idea is no longer creative and fun. Somewhere in this time frame, the book goes into hiding. And I’m quite confident it’ll never see the light of day again. I mean, it’s horrible, and how could I ever consider publishing it?

And then I move on to another idea. As I work on the new manuscript, thoughts of the old manuscript are still present. And somewhere along the line, I decide to give it another read. And guess what? The old manuscript doesn’t seem so bad anymore. Sure, it needs work and editing, but it’s actually a good story.

This process has happened with every book I’ve written. And now that I’ve recognized the pattern, I laugh when it happens. The main reason I go through this pattern is due to the ‘hat’ I’m wearing. First, the writer hat. Second, the revision/editor hat. Third, the writer/reader hat. The first and third hats are engaged with the story, so naturally, they are positive. These hats allow me to get lost in the story. The second hat is critical. It focuses on all the errors and mistakes, so of course, it sees the work as ‘no good’. This hat only looks at everything wrong with the story. Hat number three is a balanced hat. It can handle re-writes, revisions, and edits while enjoying the story.

So when people tell me, ‘you have such a way with words’. I appreciate it. And when people claim they can’t write, I share this side of the writing process. After a good laugh, they feel they can write too.

A Sneak Peek: Excerpt from Chapter 1

Here’s a third look into my latest Work-in-Progress. This scene is between Keira and Jana. They grew up together and are best friends. There are a few key things planted in this scene that are important later in the story. Can you spot them? What do you think they are?

That’s all for now. Enjoy the small bite into this new Work in Progress.

The eerie sense of being followed crept over me. I glanced up at the trees and didn’t even see any birds or even a squirrel. As far as I knew, I was alone on this path. I quickened my steps, hoping to shake the feeling, and hurried to the more active wood chip path. Once there, the eerie feeling left, and I focused on getting to the gym. Perhaps I was just creeped out by the news reports about the attacks.

I was already running a bit late for the training session Jana would be running. Truthfully, I hadn’t planned on meeting my best friend, but Grandma’s talk about the one day dream was uncomfortable to sit through. Grandma meant well and cared, but lately she wouldn’t let go of the idea. Her encouragement was frustrating.

I reached Jana’s gym. There was a sign with a serpentine dragon over the words Fighting Dragon Kickboxing and Muay Thai.

Jana and I had signed up for classes in high school because her parents wanted her to learn a martial art. And as her BFF, of course, I supported her. We settled on kickboxing because we liked the idea of kicking the heavy practice bags. Tai Chi, while graceful and beautiful, seemed too sedate. Jana said it was an exercise in China that only her grandparents did. Other martial arts were either too intense, had too much punching, or were vetoed for being too cliché.

Jana was leading a women’s fight class, so I headed to the locker room to change.

“Keira! You didn’t text.” Jana adjusted her workout shirt when she met me in the locker room after the class finished.

“Sorry, it was a last-minute decision.” I opened my locker, pulled out workout clothes, and started to change.

“I’m glad you came.” Jana pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail and then twisted it into a bun. Two long strands hung loose along either side of her face.

Jana used to fight professionally, and she was amazing, fierce, and graceful. She excelled with many weapons but was particularly skilled with a Chinese double-bladed sword and a Bo Staff. While I visited the gym to exercise, Jana was a fighter, though she gave up the profession about two years ago.

“I’m glad I came, too.” I stuffed my clothes into the locker.

“You should join us after the workout. The women are great to hang out with.”

I split my hair into three strands and started a French braid. “Maybe. I have work tomorrow.”

Jana rolled her eyes. “You always have work.”

“Hey, a baker’s shift starts at 3:00am. I can’t stay out late.”

“Fair, but it just feels like we never get together anymore.”

I tied an elastic around the tail of my braid and tossed it over my shoulder. “I’ll join when I don’t have to go to work the next day.”

Jana stood and crossed her arms. “When?”

I scowled. “I don’t know…” I was about to say one-day, but clamped my lips to those words. Instead, I said, “I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“Okay, I’ll see you out there. And I’m glad you came.”

Jana left the room leaving me to toss my belongings in the locker. I knew Jana was right. I missed hanging out with her and feeling like I had friends. But a baker’s schedule meant I was headed to bed around 5:00 or 6:00 in the evening. I shut the locker door.

One day life would be different. I’d have time for friends, and I’d run my own bakery.

Book Review -Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries -Danielle Garrett

I recently came across this series from Danielle Garrett and it didn’t disappoint! It’s fun. It has fantasy. It’s cozy. And there’s mystery. What a great combination.

The series begins with the main character looking for a place to start her business, a flower shop. She’s pulled into solving a murder. Each book in the series has a dedicated mystery for the main character, Scarlet, to solve. Only the fun twist is that the victim is a ghost who usually has no idea how they died. In Danielle Garrett’s world, ghosts lose their memories of what happens before death. This leaves these poor apparitions sometimes even unaware that they have left the land of the living.

But what’s a good cozy mystery without a few friends and a love interest? Scarlet, accompanied by her three ghost besties, a cat, a gentleman from the 1800s, and a woman in her prime from the 1970s, takes on these mysteries because who else can help the ghosts? In the first book, while attempting to gather clues, she meets another member of her crew. In this meet-cute, Lucas is a bodyguard who tackles Scarlet when she’s snooping around a possible crime scene. The two quickly decide to become partners in solving the mystery. And like any good romance thread, their relationship takes a sweet turn.

Each book in the series is a standalone as far as the mystery is concerned. However, each book develops the lives of the ghosts, Scarlet’s flower business, and her relationship with Lucas. The writing is engaging, and the dialogue is witty. For romance, the books would fall under the category of sweet (closed door with mild kissing).

If you’re looking for something light and fun to read, then check out this series on Amazon. It’s available in KU, ebook, print, and Audible.

Writing Resources -Brandon Sanderson

When I meet other aspiring authors, I often get asked questions about improving one’s writing. I can share a little bit, but like anything in life, we’re always learning and growing. So, I’m always reading or listening to resources on writing.

Perhaps one of the best resources, especially for new authors, is Brandon Sanderson’s lecture series on writing. He guest lectures at an American university and has been doing so for a number of years. He recently (2025) made new recordings of his lectures. In these lectures, he breaks down topics around writing interspersed with Q and A. The topics include:

There might be one or two more lectures, but this is what’s out so far. There are some extra videos to watch as well. So you can always type Brandon Sanderson Lectures in YouTube’s search, and you’ll get even more content. Brandon Sanderson is very honest and humble in his approach. He gives a lot of good information about what to do ‘right’ when building stories. At the same time, he shares about his mistakes and what he did wrong in his books.

Another resource I’d like to offer is from the lecture series completed in 2020. He has a guest lecture come and teach on writing short stories. During the lecture, she walked the class through a short story writing exercise. Here’s the link: Writing Short Stories. I confess that I’ve never been great at writing short stories, as my ideas quickly become complex. This simple writing exercise has been very helpful. I hope you find it a usable resource as well.

A Sneak Peek: Excerpt from Chapter Two

Here’s a second peek into my latest Work-in-Progress. This scene takes place in chapter two, which introduces you to Keira’s workplace (a bakery), her colleague, Michelle, and boss, Steve. The reader and Keira get a glimpse of a beast? a shifter? or something else that’s been attacking the city. He has his eyes on Keira until something distracts him.

That’s all for now. Enjoy the small bite into this new Work in Progress.

A low growl came from behind the dumpster. I jumped.

“Hello?” I called and crept to the side of the bin. Was it a stray dog?

Dark fur disappeared behind the bin. I only spotted the shaggy tail with grey and black fur about halfway up the dumpster bin. It must be a big dog.

“Are you hungry?” We didn’t have meat in the bakery, but maybe I could give him something.

I edged around the bin. The growls stopped. I crouched, wanting to appear less threatening. A small bulge in my apron pocket reminded me of the stale croissants. I pulled one out and tossed it on the ground hoping the dog would go for it.

There was the snuffling sound of the dog scenting out the croissant. Like a dire wolf from Game of Thrones, a large shaggy beast bent down to sniff the croissant. Or maybe the animal was more like Jacob in wolf form from Twilight. Whatever. This dog was massive. The dog swallowed the baked good in one gulp.

I stumbled backward and tripped, landing on my backside. The dog’s gaze settled on me. His massive paws made no noise as he stalked toward me, and I wasn’t sure dog was the appropriate description for this beast. I scrambled to my feet. The creature was unnaturally large for a canine. If he got closer, his head would sit near my shoulder. Right in biting range of my head. I shivered.

“Easy there.” I dug into my pocket with a shaking hand that managed to yank out the second croissant. The beast’s eyes narrowed on the treat clenched between my fingers. Maybe I could toss it and make a break for the back door. I didn’t dare glance behind me to gauge the distance. I watched the animal as he watched me. How far would I have to throw the stale pastry?

A small gust of air ruffled my hair.

“Get back inside,” a warm baritone spoke behind me.

I didn’t recognize the voice and had no idea where he’d come from, but it sounded familiar. Was he supernatural and flew in?

The back door slammed open. “Keira? What the—” Michelle’s voice trailed off. “Steve!”

The creature’s eyes shifted from the croissant to something beyond my shoulder, and then without any provocation, the animal turned and ran.

The man behind me darted in front and took off after the animal. I didn’t get to see the man’s face, but he was dressed in black and had an axe strapped to his back. He had to be supernatural. The Hunt’s Man? I considered thinking of the news report I’d watched earlier. And The Wolf?

Pounding steps sounded across the pavement behind me.