Sanctuary of Lies Excerpt Tour

Blurb:

ISABELLA NUNEZ owns a computer firm in Brooklyn with her lover JACOB COSTA. Accepting her infertility they have a blue nose pit bull called Justice as their “child” and live simple lives as techy nerds. Isabella’s idyllic life is shattered when several days after her lover’s ex-wife, SIMONE JOHNS, reported death, sends Jacob an email to come save their child, he didn’t know they had.

Exclusive Excerpt:

“Are you hungry?” he asked as he looked over his shoulder. Jacob saw Bella’s brows go up and her smile transformed her face into a mischievous minx. She threw the covers off of her body to reveal a very naked Bella.

“Funny you should ask. I woke up hungry but you had already gone into the shower.” Bella replied.

Jacob cared for Bella. It wasn’t the stuff of fairy tales that she told him about, Jacob didn’t do Prince charming. To Jacob caring meant he would see to her needs, be there when she needed it and protect her. Jacob never claimed he was romantic but he was committed.  It hadn’t been enough for Simone but it seemed like Bella would take him as he was. and not hope the change so many women thought happened to men after marriage.

Bella was curvy and about 5’6. She was tall enough for him to find her in a crowd and she had a laugh that was loud and infectious.

Simone’s text message would steal some of her joy and it had to be handled he thought to himself as he dressed for the day.

“It’s time to make the donuts, so you’re going to have to hold out until tonight.  If you want food I can take you to the diner on my way to work.”  Jacob replied as he picked up his phone and reviewed the text messages again.  It was the same. Six messages from new clients, Four messages on updated projects, one unknown text and Simone Johns.

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Author Bio and Links:

Being a child of divorce, I have experienced both sides of the American Family. I understand there is a loss to the family unit, that no longer has a father in it.  In the face of that loss, I discovered a woman can rise to the occasion and not replace a man but offer her own strength, moral compass and guidance. In this environment a child can grow up feeling loved, accepted and ultimately successful in life.

Those experiences in my formative years have made me more aware of the women around me and the daily feats of resourcefulness and ingenuity that goes unnoticed and unacknowledged by society. My stories highlight societal issues and the ever-changing challenges women face that I've observed during my life.

Amazon Author Page     |     Blog: Best Known Secrets     |     Website

The White Lady Blurb Blitz

Blurb:

Avery Dunham has always been ready to follow her friend, time-traveling wizard, Ignus Burke, on incredible adventures. This time, though, she has serious misgivings. It's just one week before Christmas, but she cannot get him to change his mind. The usually cool and collected magic-wielding leader is wholly obsessed by the portrait of the White Lady whom he is bent on rescuing.

Almost as soon as they begin their journey, it becomes clear their mission is a trap.

Avery was right: this adventure is not going to be like any other.

Excerpt:

Avery had a few queries on the tip of her tongue, like, “Are you out of your freaking skull?”

If she didn’t ask, Stan probably would. They’d graduated from high school this past June and worked part-time ‘nothing’ jobs, taking a break before college while finding their way, as Avery’s mother put it. Mostly, they were drawn to Ignus like moths to a flame, especially Avery. Not that he noticed.

If only he’d look at her the way he did the white lady. More and more, the portrait seemed to dominate his thoughts. How could a petite, okay short, girl in a sparkly pink sweater and unicorn leggings compete with this tantalizing beauty?

Avery wasn’t plain, some even referred to her as cute, but exotic didn’t describe her. Quirky, sure. She wouldn’t term her brown eyes deeply affecting, and her face wouldn’t compel men through centuries to her side. The best she could do was plead with him.

“Ignus, be reasonable. Please.”

No reply. He wore his stubborn look. Crossing his arms over a lean chest, he tilted his head to better view the femme fatale on the wall above them.

The tousled brown hair covering his ears and forehead needed a trim. In his red Zombie Preparedness hoodie with a white rescue logo, gray dress pants, and white high-topped sneakers, he was the quintessential nerd. Most importantly, he was a wizard and time traveler with a passion for rescuing lost souls. His fervor for this particular lady was alarming.

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Author Bio and Links:

Married to my high school sweetheart, I live on a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with my people and furbabies. An avid gardener, I grow herbs and heirloom flowers and use them in my stories. The rich history of Virginia, the Native Americans, and the Scots-Irish are at the heart of my inspiration. My English/Scots-Irish ancestors were among the earliest settlers in America. I write historical romance set in the colonial frontier (The Native American Warrior Series), and the American Revolution (The Traitor's Legacy Series), colonial American Christmas romance (A Warrior for Christmas) Georgian England romance (Into the Lion's Heart, the time and place of Poldark). Some of my historicals have ghosts and paranormal in them. I also write Young Adult shapeshifter, fantasy romance (The Secret Warrior Series), and New Adult paranormal time travel, time slip romance to the Scottish Highlands, the American Revolution, the Civil War, WW1.. (My Somewhere in Time and Ladies in Time Series.)

The White Lady is available on Amazon and in eBook from all major online booksellers.

Blog-One Writer’s Way    |    Facebook    |    Twitter

Amazon Author Page where all my books reside

Hinder Blurb Blitz

Blurb:

Ethan SUTCLIFF is no normal seventeen-year-old, but he tries to be really hard. He is what witches call a Guardian, or a the easier term will be a Bender. Benders are crucial to elemental witches as they have the ability to bend their witches’ gifts. In Alex's case he is one of the rarest, an Earth Bender, but his witch is either dead or deep in hiding and Ethan needs to find whoever they are otherwise the witching race might be in danger.

Excerpt:

On Ethan’s tenth birthday, exactly at the stroke of midnight, he had received his earth element. The connection between the earth and Ethan was so powerful, it had triggered an earthquake for a full three seconds.

Benders always received the full dose of their Wielders’ ability. For the next few years, Ethan would be able to wield the earth Element as well as bend it. For the next four years, we not only needed to find his Wielder, but also to keep him safe from the others.

Earth Wielders were a force of balance. They were the true leaders of all supernaturals. They had to stay pure. They carried within them the power for immense good… or if they fell, immense evil. If they lost their sense of balance, they could become Necrocretors. Necrocretors didn’t play by the rules. They broke and bent them as they pleased.

Everything Natalie and I did aimed toward keeping Ethan balanced and on the side of good.

The hardest test Ethan would face in his entire life would be if his Wielder turned out to be female. The resistance. Wielders and Benders could never be involved as a couple. And yet the pull is addictive. Strong. Even though it was against the law, many Wielders and Benders failed. I knew; I was one of them… a long time ago.

The rest of the supernaturals consisted of what humans called monsters, myths, and paranormal beings that made great characters of most fictional tales.

Ever since the jinns lost the chalice, they were no longer part of the race. When they lost the chalice about three hundred years ago, the earth Wielders took over completely. In the wake of the jinns’ collapse, there were ten who controlled everything, but one by one, they started to perish, and nobody knew why.

Lowest on the totem pole were the shifters. Once a shifter went rogue and became a Necrocretor, there was no turning back. Shifters were vicious and could turn into anyone with the same anatomy as theirs. Necrocretors loved gaining shifters.

It was why earth Wielder never reach that age, the age where their magic matures and stabilizes. The phase where they magic was powerful enough to reset the balance, to wipe the earth clean from all the evil inside the Necrocretors, from all the ugly, and to start uphold the law of not just the elements, but of all the supernaturals.

There hadn’t been someone like that in the past four hundred years.

It was why the Guardians, a supernatural human race, started with the Sentinels.

A group of five that would jump in when things get out of hand.

Sometimes I think they were a myth, as they haven’t jumped in yet.

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Author Bio and Links:

Kristin resides in South Africa with her husband, two beautiful girls and two bulldogs that tries to eat her house. She has been writing for the past eight years and her first debut novel, Hinder: A Bender's novel will be published 2018 by Fire Quill Publishing.

When she isn't writing, she is spending her time with her family or trying to teach her two bulldogs to not eat her house. You can find more about Kristin at www.authorkristinping.com

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A CHANCE TO WIN

Follow the steps and you can stand a chance to win a Macintosh laptop. It's easy. Please note that your entry will not count if you haven't followed all the steps.

Want to win a Mac? Every two to three months, Kristin Ping is giving away a Mac, all you have to do is subscribe to her newsletter, confirm to the confirmation email that will either be in your inbox or spam, and open the letter. Find the secret facebook group, join and enter the giveaway. It’s as easy as that. We even give you extra entries by inviting your friends to subscribe too. We already gave away the first laptop.

INTRODUCING THE PING CRATE

The Ping Crate is a crate filled with goodies for readers. It’s built around the theme of the Guardian of Monster Series. The first few boxes will be built around witches. Think journals, cups, books, novelty jewelry, swag and something electronic that will push the worth of the crate up to $700 and more.

All you have to do is stay subscribed to the subscription list and open the monthly newsletter that Kristin will send out to find the rafflecopter for you to enter in this lovely giveaway. It’s a box full of reader goodies and a surprise. Sometimes it will be a gift card if there aren't any electronics.

Believe me, it will be worth your time.

PRE-ORDER HINDER FOR 99c. Yes, you’ve heard right. The pre-order special is 99c only. The price will go up to $2.99 in its first month, think of it as a release day blitz, and from the second month, it will go up to its normal price of $4.99. So it’s a major deal getting the pre-order for just 99c. GRAB YOUR COPY NOW!!!

When you purchase Hinder, you can claim your free gift through the subscriber link. Don't miss out on this amazing Pre-Order deal 'Even Witches needs saving now and then.'  Use the Pre-Order Landing Page.

Buy Links:  
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Dutch Review Tour

Blurb:
I've spent years holed up in the deepest, darkest parts of the city, fighting to keep Death and her Poochas from crossing the dead back to the living. My skill with a blade is bested only by my menace, my despair, my anguish - the strongest weapons I yield.

Then I meet Juma Landry and it all goes to hell.

She is beauty and love and sex and light, everything I am not. And she makes me want things I haven’t desired in years. But the monsters of my life, the evil lurking in the dark corners of my soul, those places craven and vile, bind me to a past I cannot shake free. As the most skilled Keeper for The Gate, nothing and no one can prevent me from excelling at a job I never wanted. I do it because it is my legacy, a fate I cannot outrun, but when Juma becomes my next assignment, each of her nine lives to be ended by my hand, I must decide: the legacy I never wanted or the love I don’t deserve.


Excerpt:
…just then I saw it, a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, a swish of black, so like the New York City uniform of the chic and sophisticated but of a different realm altogether. However, more than what I saw was what I felt. The cold that crept into my bones, settled in my blood, and soothed me with its familiarity.

Her.

I knew her essence anywhere had known it since I was a little girl dying on an emergency room gurney as she promised me all kinds of things, love, power, life. Knowing I wanted all of them more than I could say, craved them even as a tiny human, would obsess over them as a grown woman.

Death knew all the right words to whisper in my ear and bring me to her bosom for all eternity, forever beholden to her and her whims, willing to do whatever she asked of me just to see her smile. And what did I receive in return?

Her love which was precious and given out to few.

Except today.

Today she was pissed—the chill of her glare said as much.

“Get up.” She breezed through the doors as they opened at 14th Street.

I followed, obedient and cowed. It was coming, had been coming for months now.

Reproof.

Admonition.

Punishment.

As we reached a more deserted section of the platform, she spun on me, her dark pixie perfectly coiffed, her red lips caught in a sneer, and I prepared, my body tense and ready for whatever she was about to unload. But then her eyes flashed to the right, something caught her attention, and whatever anger and irritation had been directed at me dissipated.

“Stay here, Juma,” she ordered. I stopped, and for once I didn’t say a word, I simply obeyed her command. Her tone demanded it.

Death flew across the subway station, her eyes full of fire and fury, directed somewhere distant and removed. I followed her trajectory and that’s when I saw.

Him.

Tall, lean, solitary.

Calm, confident, beautiful.

And dark. So very dark. As if light long ago stopped seeking refuge in the corners of his body, the cracks of his being. My body heated in places it should not, my blood pulsed a little stronger as I watched him, unable to look away, knowing I should lest he burn a hole straight through my core.

Anyone else would have stepped away from her but he did not, unmoved by her oncoming fury, unafraid of her wrath. Death slammed into him and together they fell into the wall, tiles above his head cracking from the impact. Minutes passed as she harangued him with her words and gestures and her power to bring the pain.

And still he remained.

Until she had enough, said enough, did enough, and sent him on his way, watching as he disappeared into the dark of the subway tunnel, his shadowy self becoming one with the dank environs. Long seconds later, Death remained rooted to the spot and watching the tunnel, as if she expected the beautiful stranger to reappear, but he was gone, lost in the ether.

She finally turned my way and started, the movement slight but noticeable to my discerning eye, as if surprised by my presence, my rare acquiescence to one of her demands.

“Juma,” she as she neared, her ire piqued and ill-contained, “what are you doing?”

“You told me to wait here,” I replied, “so I waited.”

She raised a brow and sneered. “Fine time to start listening to a word I say,” she groused as she breezed past, her chill a balm to the strange heat inspired by the dark stranger, one that touched the tips of my fingers and kissed the depths of my soul.

“Who was that man?” I could not help but ask.

Death spun back around, stopping so suddenly I crashed into her, our bodies pressed against one another, a position quite familiar and yet today, when she was so angry and full of unease, utterly foreign.

“Forget you ever saw him, Juma,” she insisted as she grasped my chin in her hand and searched my eyes, probing for something I could not did not would not know, for she was in no mood to elaborate or educate further.

“He’s from The Gate,” I replied, certain only those rotten souls could inspire such a reaction from her.

She stilled and it was as if all movement stilled with her and only she and I existed, the air sucked from the moment by the words falling from my lips.

Finally she spoke, low and deadly, her tone serious, her words a warning. “He is someone far more dangerous than The Gate—he is a beautiful, tortured soul seeking absolution. Forget him.”

My Review:
3 stars

I had some very mixed feelings about this book. First, the characters. I liked both Juma and Death, two sassy, kickass women who I loved rooting for. I also loved their somewhat snarky interactions with each other. Yet while I liked those two, I disliked Dutch. He came off as an oversexed jerk to me, and even at the end of the book I was still "meh" about him. 

Second, the plot was interesting. I liked the darker urban fantasy, and 
However, at times the plot became a bit clunky, and I ended up skimming at times. Part of this I feel is due to the amount of sex. While I'm not a prude, sex should have a purpose. It should help forward the plot or the character development, something. Yet there were several sex scenes here that did none of those things. This ended up taking away from the story in my mind. And though this book was not categorized as erotic/a, it should have been. 

However, what made this a solid three for me was the writing style. Sometimes, authors go out of their way to create a style unique to them that just ends up being distracting. Here, however, Pavamani's style added to the overall story/tone and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I even found myself dissecting and studying her sentences at times (giant English nerd here) because I liked them so much. 

Overall, I feel this is either a hit or miss book. If you are okay with erotica and a jerkish alpha male, then you should definitely give this book a read as the rest of the plot and characters, as well as the writing style, are worth it.

*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.*

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Author Bio and Links:

Madhuri Pavamani writes twisted love stories and dark poetry. She loves whiskey, tattoos, Bukowski, and yoga. She laughs constantly, says f*ck a lot, and dances anywhere. She is the author of the paranormal romance trilogy, THE SANCTUM, and the fantasy trilogy, THE KEEPER SERIES, published this year by St. Martin’s Press. She’s currently working on something evil and delicious.

You can find her on Instagram and Twitter at @madhuriwrites.

https://www.amazon.com/Dutch-Keeper-Madhuri-Pavamani-ebook/dp/B01MZI3C0A

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25781343-dutch

Bolt of Blue Release Day Blitz

Blurb:

Ian Golinski has been in love with his best friend since he was fourteen years old. When he finally decides to confess his feelings, he finds that his perpetually single friend isn't so single anymore. What’s a boy to do when he has to share the love of his life with someone else? Especially someone so damn hot?

Dusty Smith has finally found The One. The only problem is The One clearly has feelings for someone else, even if he doesn’t realize it. Dusty has to convince his lover that they’re meant to be. But how does he do that when the other man turns out to be perfect for them both?

Mitch Becker likes things nice and simple. But as his relationship with his boyfriend heats up, he starts developing feelings for his best friend. Suddenly his life is one big complication. How can he choose between two soul mates?

Find out what happens when three men ask the question: What if we don’t have to choose?

A Bolt of Blue is an m/m/m contemporary romance with a happy ending and no cliff-hanger. It is approximately 90,000 words and is a stand-alone.

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36187336-a-bolt-of-blue?from_search=true

Excerpt:

I’m not sure I heard him right. Even if I did, I need to make sure I’m really clear on what he’s saying. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Ian sighs into my ear. “I mean, what if it was the three of us? Together?”

“All three of us?” I’m like a parrot.

“Yeah.”

“And how would that work?” I know how it would work sexually. I’ve seen plenty of porn, and there are a lot of really creative possibilities when you get three guys together. Just thinking about it is getting me hard.

But I don’t think that’s what Ian means. At least, that’s not all he means.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. It’s not like I’ve ever done it before. But I think…I mean, you have feelings for me, right?”

He sounds so timid asking, and I wish he was here so I could show him how much he doesn’t need to worry about that.

“You know I do.”

“And I think Mitch does too. I hope he does. And I know how you guys feel about each other. So if we all feel that way, then why can’t we be together? There wouldn’t be anything to be jealous of. We would all be in it together.”

I have to admit, it sounds appealing. Like really, really appealing.

But it won’t work.

“Mitch would never go for it. He’s way too traditional. He wants the white picket fence, the kids, the dog. The whole domestic bliss thing. He wants to get married. You can’t be married to two people.”

“Not legally, no. I know it’s crazy. I’m just thinking out loud, mostly. But I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s the only way we all get what we want. Why can’t we all have what we want?”
“Because that’s not how life works.”

“Well, it should.”

Yeah, it should.

“It would be nice,” I say.

“Can you picture it?” Ian asks. “Will you think about it with me for a minute?”

“Okay.”

“So imagine you and me. It’s a Sunday morning, and we sleep in late and then get up and make breakfast. Are you imagining it?”

I nod, and then remember he can’t see me. “Yeah,” I say.

“Imagine we spend the whole day just hanging out. Like we did that one day, remember? Only we don’t have to keep our distance. We can touch each other. I can brush your arm with my hand when I walk by you in the kitchen. You can kiss me in the bathroom when we’re brushing our teeth.” The picture makes me smile.

“And then imagine that Mitch comes home. He was on a road trip, and he’s tired. And you’ve made dinner for him, and we all eat together. And then we sit on the couch, and I rub Mitch’s feet and you play with his hair. We’re watching some dumb movie on Netflix. Can you see it?”
“Yes, I can see it.” I can, too. And it’s so sweet it makes my chest ache. I can practically smell Mitch’s hair, and hear him purr at Ian’s touch. He loves to have his feet rubbed.

“And then the movie ends, and we all go to bed. Together.”

I smile at that. “Who’s in the middle?” I ask.

“Me,” Ian says without hesitation.

I imagine myself spooned around him, my hands brushing along his stomach while he pushes his ass into my groin. And all the while I’m looking into Mitch’s eyes. He’s on his side facing us, reaching out to touch Ian’s face, but he’s looking at me. He’s so content and happy. He’s in love.
I see him kissing Ian. Softly at first, but then with more intensity. I see my own hand running up and down Mitch’s arm while he presses his body against Ian’s. I hear the soft, wet sounds of their mouths moving together, and I reach out with my own tongue to trace the shell of Ian’s ear.

“Dusty? Can you see it?” Ian asks, breaking into my reverie.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Is it beautiful?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Tell me again why we can’t have that?” Ian asks.

I think about what Erik said to me the other night, about how I always play it safe. And where has it gotten me? He wasn’t just talking about my career. Maybe it’s time I took a risk for love. Honestly, at this point, I have nothing to lose.

“Maybe we can,” I say.

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About the Author:

Nicky Spencer is a romance writer of all pairings. Nicky is a firm believer that love conquers all–that’s why her favorite theme is forbidden love. If two (or three!) people shouldn’t be together, Nicky will find a way to get them there. When you love someone, nothing else matters.

Nicky live in Salt Lake City, Utah with no husband, no kids and a part-time dog. She loves to read, write, listen to podcasts, watch baseball and waste time on the internet. She is firmly anti-oxford comma.

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Master Me, Please Book Blast

Blurb:

Krista Matthews thought nothing could be harder than losing her husband and Master to suicide until the man he’d entrusted her care to left her also.  By the time Dr. Dax Hayes returned from an overseas, volunteer medical tour, she thought she was over his deflection and ready to re-immerse herself in the BDSM world she needed and missed so much without his help.  One scene proved how wrong she was and after Master Dax’s timely rescue, she agrees to let him tutor her back into the lifestyle.  She hadn’t counted on her growing feelings for the strict Dom or his refusal to take her over completely, like she craved.

Dr. Dax Hayes fell for Krista Matthews the minute he looked into her blue eyes and saw the sated, content look she shared with her husband, Dr. Kurt Matthews.  He managed to keep his feelings and lust under control until his friend and colleague asked him to join him in gifting Krista with a menage for her birthday.  Knowing it was a mistake, but unable to resist, Dax succumbs to the temptation of this one-time scene, never realizing where it would lead.  A year later, after sealing his fate with a questionable act, he flees on a guilt trip only to return and discover nothing had changed-he still wanted Krista Matthews with an ache that wouldn’t be assuaged by anyone else. 

Unable to resist stepping in when she gets herself in trouble, Dax again gives in to temptation and aids the one woman he can never have back into the lifestyle her submissive nature needed.  When a vindictive woman tells Krista the truth, will her feelings be strong enough to forgive him, or did he gamble everything only to lose it all in the end?

DISCLAIMER: This book is intended for adults only. It contains elements of power exchange, BDSM, including explicit sexual scenes and anal play. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase this book.

Excerpt:

Voices nearing the surgery room filtered through the swinging doors and one deep baritone sent a shiver of awareness dancing under Krista’s suddenly tight skin.  She turned just as Dax pushed through them and her first thought was nothing had changed.  He still towered over her, his coal black hair still curled around his ears and nape and those penetrating green eyes set in a tanned, chiseled face could still draw a quick, heated response from her.  She wasn’t sure she could lay claim to being female if her heart rate didn’t pick up speed or she didn’t go slightly damp when Dr. Dax Hayes walked into a room.

He left without a word for a year and a half.  The reminder helped her to believe that instant response meant nothing nor changed a thing.  Inhaling until she couldn’t hold any more air in her lungs, she nodded and managed a small smile of welcome.

“Dr. Hayes.  It’s good to have you back again.”

Crap.  Krista had been about to congratulate herself on managing a cool, but friendly greeting when he fisted those large hands on his lean hips and cocked his head.  His bland, generic reply belied his intense regard that turned the butterflies of unwanted pleasure in her stomach to jitters of long neglected need.

“It’s nice to be back.  How have you been, Krista?”

So proper and reserved from a man whose cock she’d had in her mouth.  “Good.  You?” she returned just as detached, her heart aching for the easy friendship they shared before both he and Kurt deserted her.  She felt as lost and alone at this moment of stiff formality as she had at her husband’s funeral.

He stiffened and gazed at her for another silent moment, as if he too found this initial meeting disappointing.  “Better, now that I’m stateside again.  Let’s just say my tour reinforced how lucky we are as opposed to some parts of the world.”  Dax stepped forward, his eyes softening as he said, “Krista, I…”

The resident and nurse entered, and he clamped his mouth shut, yanking his eyes off her with an abruptness that allowed Krista to release her pent-up breath.

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Author Bio and Links:

I live in the Midwest with my husband and our two dogs.  I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles.  We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I much prefer being homebody.  I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking.  My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic romance with a touch of suspense.  My favorite genre to read is suspense.

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Buy Links:

Amazon     |     Blushing Books

Magic Forgotten VBT

Blurb:

Magic Forgotten is an Adult Urban Fantasy set in Eastern PA. It is the story of a paraplegic, freelance writer who has withdrawn from the world only to be dragged back out by the appearance of two strangers in his back yard.  They are a Sidhe, the old elves of England, and a human wizardess, a captive of the elf, and they are here to take over the world. The writer and the wizardess have to stop the elf from achieving his plans.

Excerpt:

Dan awoke with a splitting headache.

This was not surprising considering he was seated at his desk with his head resting on the computer keyboard. The corner of the escape key pressed into his forehead hard enough to leave an impression.

“At least they left the computer.” He mused as he tried to look around at the room. Everything seemed to spin as he moved. He lifted a hand to his forehead as he groaned in pain. His groan stopped as he felt something imbedded in the skin just above his nose, between his eyebrows. He probed with his fingers, trying to judge what it was. Smooth and oval, was all he could tell by touch. As he lowered his hand to look at his fingers for any residue, he noted something on the back of his wrist. Both wrists, he soon saw, had oval green gems the size of a nickel imbedded in the skin, just above the joint where it did not impair movement. As far as he could tell by touch, they matched the stone in his forehead. The sickly green color did little to help Dan’s queasy stomach.

         

His computer screen caught his attention as he examined his wrist. On the screen was a logo Dan did not immediately recognize, a sign-on for a database he had never entered before, to his knowledge. Looking from his hands to the screen, Dan wondered: had he had been typing under someone else’s control and accessed something he wasn’t supposed to see?

“Oh, shit. Steven King strikes again.”

Persistence is a virtue- sometimes!

One truth in writing, most of the time, is the more you write, the better a writer you become. Anyone who has written for a newspaper knows that after a time, meeting deadlines and getting your articles completed becomes almost a reflex and you can complete your tasks in a competent and qualified manner on a regular basis.

But the persistence of writing can also be a handicap if you find yourself getting fixated on a single project.

A short story that has been rejected time after time by a wide variety of magazines, may just need to be placed on a back burner for a while and then taken out and redone in some way.  If that many folks think it’s not quite up to snuff, there might be a good reason for it. To keep sending it out might be persistence, but it may also show a lack of willingness to take a good look at the story and see what else might need some adjustment other than the name of the magazine on this latest submission.

The same goes for a novel that has been submitted ad nauseum and is continually rejected.  While it is true that some pieces just need to find the right market, sometimes that right market may not yet exist and it’s time to make some changes.

One danger of blindly resubmitting a manuscript and waiting for the response is the dead time in between those events.  If you have something submitted, good for you.  The next step is to work on something else.

An article written in a popular writing magazine many years ago (I don’t recall either which magazine or who the author was- sorry) stated that all writers should follow what was called, in that article, The Rule of Twelve. Basically this only works for short fiction or non-fiction unless you are an amazing writer who can write twelve books in a year. The key is that a good writer should have twelve submissions out in the field at any time.  By doing this you accomplish several different goals. First: the more you write, the better you get. Second: if you have written twelve different stories you are exhibiting your ability to write in a variety of subjects, since twelve of the same story does not work for most magazine submission processes. Third: The shotgun approach does work, most times. Send enough stuff out against the wall and something will stick eventually (Add your own nouns as appropriate).

Persistence in continuing to write is a good thing.  Persistence in focusing on a single project to the exclusion of anything else is not a good thing for any writer. That tight a focus on one project will cause a collapse when the next rejection is received and many writers stop at that point in total frustration.

Don’t stop writing.  Be versatile.  Be multi-themed.  Try new things.

And above all: Keep Writing!

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Author Bio and Links:

A lifelong Pennsylvania resident, Jack began a love of books sitting amid the mystery of hospitals and medical paraphernalia. Mythology of all cultures and a fascination with martial philosophies led to King Arthur, the knights of the round table and an array of science fiction and fantasy authors that had a strong impact on his life.

Real life got in the way of a writing career to start, but thirty years in the life and medical insurance field led Jack to a job as a stringer for local newspapers and writing for medical and insurance journals. In addition to years in the insurance field Jack also has fifteen years experience as a journalist and freelance writer, and has even won a Keystone Press Award (1998) for his journalistic efforts. Jack has written on a wide variety of subjects and keeps his hand in medical and insurance matters on a daily basis.

In addition to newspaper reporting and magazine articles, Jack has written articles for a variety websites--some under his own name and some as a behind-the-scenes contributor. Jack's first short fiction piece, a novella, was serialized in an old BBS site in 1992, with the first hard copy magazine story arriving in 1993. Four dinner theater plays written by Jack have been produced and performed for local theater in Eastern Pennsylvania. His novels are now coming to light with the release of There Are Giants In This Valley published by Archebooks Publishing.

With experience as a journalist, short story writer, playwright and novelist, Jack often speaks at writer's conferences, to writer's groups and to school gatherings. If you are looking for a speaker on esoteric subjects, Jack probably has something tucked away in a folder for the occasion.

He lives in eastern Pennsylvania with his supportive wife, a squad of feline editors, and an array of edged weapons to inspire his works.

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