About S.J. Maylee

S.J. Maylee fell in love with storytelling at a young age and with it came a deep-seated desire for everyone to find their happily ever after. She’s finding the happy endings for her characters one steamy story at a time. When she’s not reading or writing, you can find her caring for her garden, laughing with her two young sons, or dancing to her husband’s music. She’s a PMP (Project Management Professional), Nia instructor, and coffee addict. As a writer she has a tendency to break hearts, but she always glues them back together

Flash Fiction #38 Watching and Waiting

Posted on March 1, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

Thanks for stopping. Another picture…another 100 words.

Freedigitalphotos.net

Christy stood at the fringes of the room. As a new member of the club, she was restricted from interacting, but she could watch. She peered through her bangs to the man standing at attention near the end of the bar. He’d crossed his arms tightly over his broad chest. Her bound wrists reminded her she could not touch, could not join the soiree.

Would he notice her?

Music pumped through the room, the beat vibrating through her body and mixing with her jumble of nerves. A crease appeared in his brow, he turned and captured her gaze.

“Oh my.”

Hope you enjoyed my flash today!! Don’t forget to follow the link to get to the other FFF posts. Flasher Fiction Friday. Or click away on the links below.

Ray Sostre: http://theafterdarkworld.blogspot.com/
Naomi Shaw: www.authornaomishaw.com
J S Morbius: http://morbiussworld.blogspot.co.uk/
Doris O’Connor: http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.co.uk/
Gemma Parkes: http://gemmaparkes.blogspot.com/
AuroraRose Andromeda: http://rollingmuseintheroses.blogspot.com/
Angelica Dawson: http://angelicadawson.blogspot.com
Sherri Hayes: http://sherri-hayes.blogspot.com/

I Torture My Characters with Sarah Ballance

Posted on February 28, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I’m so excited. I have Sarah Ballance on the blog today!! Fan girl goes squee. I fell in love with Sarah’s voice six sentences at a time and after reading just one of her books I added her to my auto buy list. Sarah puts her lovable characters in heart pounding, page turning situations. Her latest release is Last Call, I’ve already bought it of course. Read on to find out about why Sarah tortures her characters and then stick around for the details on Last Call, including the blurb, an excerpt, and buy links) and where you can find Sarah on the web. Take it away, Sarah.

I Torture My Characters. Here’s Why.

One of my greatest writing loves is romantic suspense. I love the added tension of putting my characters’ lives on the line, and forcing them together when they’d most likely rather be anywhere else can make for some awesome fireworks. Granted, sometimes they just glare at me, but I’m used to that. I have children. And as it turns out, I think that’s why I torture my characters. If you’re not following the logic, let me introduce you to my life.

My husband and I have six kids (14, 12, 9, 6, 5, and 2) and I homeschool five different grades—9^th, 7^th, 4^th, 1^st, and K—with a monster underfoot. Add to this bit of news the wee fact between the eight of us (because my husband usually comes home for lunch) I’m serving 24 meals a day plus snacks. We actually had to buy restaurant service packs of spoons and forks because as you can imagine our set of sixteen forks and eight spoons didn’t make it through lunchtime, and I’m ashamed to admit there are still times we still can’t find a clean fork.

There are also times we can’t find the floor. The laundry/mud room floor is covered with shoes. (We don’t wear them in the house, so that’s where they come off). The bathroom floor is covered with the laundry we don’t have room for in the laundry room. (Yes, dirty clothes are supposed to be in the basket, but tell my kids that. Please.) My bedroom floor is usually covered in stacks of clean laundry, mid-sort. The kitchen table is always covered in something that hides and eats school work, because the kids are forever saying they can’t find whatever it is I tell them to do but they KNOW they left it on the kitchen table. The floor is always covered with . . . what the heck is that crap all over the floor? And why is it there? WHY?

Further muddying the waters, I’ve given up coffee and every other drink that’s not water. No zero calorie flavorings. No caffeine-free anything. Water, and only water. Water does not cuddle like a steaming hot cup of creamy deliciousness. It just doesn’t. *stomp*

So let’s consider this. After a long day of trying to teach physics in one corner of the room and fractions in another, all with the Dora theme song rattling my head, I throw together a made-from-scratch dinner and . . . I’ve done it. All the kids have survived, school has been more or less accomplished, and I haven’t even yelled at anyone. (Erm, for the last hour. I think.) I feel good. Heck, I feel GREAT. You know why? After dinner I get to escape to my room and NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BOTHER ME. (Tell that to my children while you’re reminding them about the laundry.) Feeling a certain renewed energy that comes along with sudden freedom, I FLEE.

And I step on a freaking lego. THE PAIN! ERMAGAWD, THE AGONY!

And I have no coffee. NO COFFEE.

And I want to rip off someone’s head, but if I do that the nice people in uniform will take me away from my computer.

So, in an epic attempt to cope, I torture characters. It’s all perfectly logical now, isn’t it?

Still with me? I’m flattered. Really. And hoping you’ll keep reading for the scoop on my latest release. (No children were harmed in the making of this book.)

LAST CALL by Sarah Ballance – Romantic suspense for just 99 cents!

In a perilous game of trust, a shocking betrayal deals a dangerous hand.

An accidental witness to a murder-for-hire, ex-cop Rhys Clark becomes the target of ruthless killer—one determined to silence her at any cost. Playing dead seems to be the most likely way to stay alive, but when her protection comes in the form of mega-sexy former adversary Nick Massey, Rhys can think of a few fates worse than death.

Nick Massey may have walked away from his troubles, but he never got past wanting Rhys. Once paired undercover, they’d been nothing but fireworks until a botched assignment ended her career, sending his into a tailspin. Now a mysterious client threatens Nick’s life if he doesn’t keep Rhys safe, but it isn’t until fate takes a critical turn that he realizes the devastating truth: he’s been her greatest threat all along.

Title: LAST CALL

Author: Sarah Ballance

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: For the Muse Publishing, 2013

ISBN 13: 978-0-9889995-0-3

LAST CALL is available from: For the Muse Publishing, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords (formats: .mobi, .epub, HTML, PDF, RTF, LRF, PalmDoc, and Plain Text). Click here to add to Goodreads or here for reviews.

Cover art by For the Muse Design

Last Call | Excerpt

Rhys Clark swore and jerked her foot from the murky puddle that had just claimed one of her new running shoes. Perfect. The day was now officially perfect.

She blamed Nick Massey.

Blaming him was easy enough. She didn’t know which required more nerve on his part—leaving town or crawling back—but both events left her bitter and raw. And wet, she grumbled inwardly. With the sky spitting rain and the occasional pellet of sleet smacking her face, she should have skipped her evening jog. The street was little more than a concrete alley of shuttered businesses, and the bleak weather amplified the emptiness. But tonight, with Nick hot on her mind, running through the cold was her last ditch effort to return to her senses.

It hadn’t worked.

Another blast of icy air howled through the narrow street. If she hadn’t been standing still, she probably wouldn’t have heard the shouting that followed.

A few months ago, an altercation wouldn’t have been unusual in this part of town. But the whole area was under reconstruction. Local crime dissipated to nothing with the razing of several apartment buildings, and until now Rhys had long found her route to be a place of solace. She glanced around as the voices drew closer and more intense. Rapid footsteps smacked the wet pavement. Then the echo of a gunshot cracked the night.

Where fear left her paralyzed, instinct insisted she get out of sight. She looked around and found an unbroken expanse of concrete wall offering few options. Heart pounding, Rhys ducked into the recessed doorway of a vacant storefront and hoped the deep shadows would keep her concealed.

Terrifying seconds passed. The sound of her own suppressed breath roared in her ears.

Voices came, clearer this time. Close.

“If we screw this up…” The words, terse and hushed, were encapsulated in panic.

“Shut up,” demanded a second voice. “No one messed up. He’s as good as dead.”

“You think you’re going to sell that without a body? We didn’t get paid to lose him.”

“He took one to the gut. He won’t get far. We’ll find him.”

“He’s leaving a trail. Blood. We got the big bucks for a clean—”

“Shut up.”

A hit? Rhys shuddered, fear scaling her spine. A professional hit would have been silent—something not accomplished by the gunshot or the ensuing conversation—but in this game, experience wasn’t always a prerequisite for willingness to pull the trigger. Two years of undercover work had taught her as much.

So had a bullet.

Rhys froze, waiting for the voices to pass. But luck was not on her side. Rather than drawing away, the footsteps ceased.

“Well, well, well,” said the confident one. “Looks like our little game of hide and seek is over.”

Hope crumbled. The voice was far too close. Had they seen her?

She dared not move. Through her lashes, she saw nothing in her narrow view of the dimly lit street but dirty puddles and the occasional bit of trash plastered to wet pavement. She prayed they didn’t look her way should they walked past.

Grunts erupted nearby, followed by the sound of sneakers scuffling on concrete. Then two shots fired, and all sounds of struggle gave way to profane celebration.

In the same instant, a man fell to the sidewalk in front of Rhys. His eyes, sightless and familiar, bore into her.

She choked a gasp.

A man stepped into her line of sight, his weapon at the ready. Before she could stop herself, she locked eyes with him. Big mistake. The decision threw her into a cloud of emotional shrapnel, the past flying at her in shards. She’d been shot once before.

It hadn’t ended well.

The gunman opened his mouth and formed an ugly grin, his breath coming in visible puffs through yellowed teeth. “Looks like a double header tonight, T,” he said, never taking his gaze off Rhys.

“Whaddya mean?” came the reply. The voice . . . she blinked until the second man shifted into focus.

She knew him. From where? She couldn’t think.

She glanced to the dead man, and her vision wavered. Panic shifted her world into a screen of jarred pixels, the flashback jagged and severe.

“Rhys! Stay with me, Rhys. Do you hear me? Rhys!”

Blood. So much blood.

“Nick.” She touched his face, feeling stubble beneath her fingertips. Then the weight of her arm was too much; as gravity won he slipped away. The world twisted into a sickening spiral until all that was left was his voice, the desperation in his tone bringing warmth to the darkness.

“Rhys!”

Motion jarred her to the present.

The gunman gestured. “Our witness here is about to have an unfortunate accident.” He raised the weapon, aiming for the kill.

It was a short view down the barrel at point blank range. She expected that.

What she didn’t anticipate was the speed with which he pulled the trigger.

Or how quickly the pain hit.

About Sarah Ballance

Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her.

She loves creating unforgettable stories while putting her characters through an unkind amount of torture—a hobby that has nothing to do with living with six children. (Really.) Though she adores nail-biting mystery and edge-of-your-seat thrillers, Sarah writes in many genres including contemporary and ghostly paranormal romance. Her ever-growing roster of releases may be found at http://sarahballance.com

Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

@SarahBallance

Spotlight: Mystically Bound by Stacey Kennedy

Posted on February 25, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I have a very special treat for you. Today I’m shining the spotlight on Stacey Kennedy and her latest release in the Frostbite series, Mystically Bound. Below you’ll find all the book details, the beautiful cover (click it to see the book on Goodreads), the blurb, excerpt (all of Chapter One!!!), the buy links, Stacey’s bio and all the places you can find her on the web. Enjoy.

Mystically Bound

Frostbite Book Three

by Stacey Kennedy

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
ISBN: 9781301901340
Length: Novel
Heat Level: Sensual
Release date: January 31, 2013

BLURB:

Tess Jennings’ life is in chaos. Her ghost lover, Kipp McGowen, vanished into the Netherworld without a trace. Now, she finds herself in White Castle, Louisiana, surrounded by the Animus—a secret society of the supernaturally gifted. To make matters worse, they present her with an offer she cannot refuse.

If she helps solve the murder of their Grand Master, they will assist her in saving Kipp. Soon, Tess will land herself lost in another mystery she doesn’t want. But she will have to trust her enemies to gain what she most desires—a life with Kipp.

Only problem? People are hiding secrets and dark pasts. Tess will soon discover that nothing is as it seems. She might want to save Kipp from his ghostly state, but someone has decided it’s better for her to join him…

Chapter One

Find our ghost, and we’ll help save Kipp.

One statement took my already upside down world, spun it in a new warped direction, and sent hot slivers of frustration through my veins. Another mystery didn’t interest me. My to-do list toppled with one important checkbox to mark off: find my ghost lover, Kipp McGowen, and return him to his comatose body.

I glanced sideways at my friend, Gretchen. Her cinnamon-colored hair swept over the side of her face, deepening the grayish tones in her blue eyes. “Did I hear that right?”

She nodded tightly. “You did, and they’re waiting for your answer.”

What if I didn’t want to answer? What if I didn’t want to help anyone else? Hadn’t the time for someone to assist me—without my having to return the favor—been earned? Yet, here I stood in White Castle, Louisiana, presently cornered to use my gifts to communicate with the dead.

Couldn’t someone cut me a damn break?

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I scanned the mansion. Its fancy furniture, dating to the nineteenth century, had an overall charm with gothic detail and rich crimson fabrics. Even the scent of a spicy potpourri portrayed comfort. Sadly, the two people—excluding Gretchen—who currently awaited my answer, didn’t look friendly. Especially the crotchety man in his early forties, sitting in the dark wood antique wingback chair.

I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t ignore them. “Sorry, can you repeat the question?”

Wayde Hagen’s light brown eyes blazed with a bottomless irritation I wouldn’t dare agitate. His thick, six-five frame put me on edge since next to him, I was a tiny woman. Though I attempted to hide the fact that he intimidated me, the coldness in his features, the sharp contours of his face, and his thin hard lips unnerved me.

“I don’t need to repeat myself.” His low voice echoed off the high ceilings. “Answer the question.”

I could only gawk at him. Were all the others so chilling?

Truth be told, I had no idea what to expect when I first heard of the others from Gretchen. The entire airplane ride to White Castle, I drilled her on the group she belonged to. She explained some were mediums, others psychics, and a few more were witches. But tonight, only two of the group greeted me—if you could even call it that.

While I sensed energy in the room, much like an elevated awareness, and assumed it meant all those present held some level of supernatural power, none held my abilities. Perhaps they might create a kick-ass spell, predict the future, or sense ghosts, but no one except me could see and talk to spirits.

Some might think I’d impress them, but Wayde’s ice-cold gaze declared otherwise. To him, I was an outsider, and well, I’d prefer to be outside than near him. “Let me get this straight. You want me to find a ghost, and if I do, you’ll help me locate Kipp?”

Wayde inclined his head. “That’s the offer.”

I restrained my snappy response, considering a morgue would’ve been friendlier than talking to Wayde. He wasn’t the first to disapprove of my loving a ghost and I doubted he’d be the last. But I didn’t much give a shit what he thought. “Why do you need me to find your ghost?”

Turning from the towering hand-carved marble fireplace with the blazing fire, the other woman, Amelia, smiled at me. She settled in next to Wayde and her crystal blue eyes warmed. Her shoulder-length honey-colored hair looked soft, leaving me to wonder what shampoo she used. Everything about this woman screamed gentle…and maybe a slight undertone of weakness. “Someone killed my father.”

Perhaps that explained why she welcomed me so easily, since the matter was personal. “Your father?”

Her voice trembled. “Or I should say, our Grand Master.”

My lip arched as I glimpsed Gretchen, and she chuckled. “Alexander was our Grand Master. He ruled us for the last fifteen years.”

“Oh.” What else could I say? You’re strange. Or, why am I here?

Gretchen told me the secret society, known as Animus, was established in the eighteenth century. A group of supernaturally gifted had come together and formed the organization. Many of the founding members’ descendants remained.

To me, it sounded like an unfriendly cult, since I hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes. Not like I would call Gretchen a cult member to her face. She’d bailed my ass out of trouble only days ago. When a demon had come to Memphis to feed on innocent souls, I had been given the task to rid the world of it. Thus, Gretchen’s teachings of witchcraft. Her assistance had led to the demon’s banishment back to Hell.

Trust in Gretchen had been forged out of the weirdest circumstances, but it held strong. Perhaps I could see some logic in knowing others who lived a similar lifestyle, since without her, the demon incident might have turned out very differently, and not in my favor.

“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Amelia continued, leaning her hip against the chair Wayde sat in. “My husband sensed my father, tried to make contact, and failed.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know why my father can’t get through. Or why he’s hiding from us.”

I gazed over her from head-to-toe. “Aren’t you a medium, too?”

“No, I’m a witch.” She glanced down at the hardwood floors, drawing in a long breath. “I’ve tried spells to grab his energy so my husband could read him, but something is wrong.” She lifted her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. “At first, we thought the feeling of my father’s presence was residue of his energy, but my husband has told me it feels stronger than that. Almost as if he lingers and can’t break through.”

“So, as we see it,” Wayde interjected, turning his hard stare to me. “You need our help and we need yours. It’s a fair trade.”

Nibbling my lip, I considered the proposition and glimpsed at the crackling fire, focusing on the bright orange flicker in the flame. I’d give my pinky finger to find a way to locate Kipp. Not only did I miss him, but his disappearance made no sense. By all appearances, he’d just up and vanished without a single trace or a solid reason. I needed answers, not theories or heartbreak.

The Animus had the power to find a solution. I wouldn’t sit around and pity myself any longer. If I didn’t agree, there’d be no moving forward.

Looking from the fire, I focused on Wayde. “Find Alexander, ask him who killed him, and that’s it? No catch or read-the-fine-print hidden secrets?”

Wayde snorted, and sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Precisely.”

I found ghosts all the time—or they found me—and Amelia’s sadness proved this one recently died. The task didn’t seem overly difficult, but as the thought crossed my mind, I knew better. Usually easy turned out to be some hazardous mission I never should’ve accepted. “Before I agree, tell me how you can help me.”

No hint of deception showed in Wayde’s gaze. “I’ll show you the way to cross through the veil into the Netherworld.”

While hearing Wayde might hold such knowledge elated me, since Gretchen had zero answers and I was fresh out of ideas, believing him was another matter. I turned to the witch I did trust. “Possible, or a lie?”

Gretchen studied me a moment, her brows drawn together, before she finally said, “The Animuspossess witchcraft that dates to the very beginning of its creation. Anything is possible with the right spell.” Her head tilted, and her expression became knowing. “A spell I don’t have access to.”

Perhaps before, I’d doubted her, since all this witchcraft stuff seemed bogus. Now, I couldn’t reject the idea that anything was possible. Since meeting Kipp, everything had been something upward of bizarre.

The list was endless—Kipp was a ghost, but actually wasn’t dead, and in fact, lay comatose in a hospital; my recent experience with magical spells, and banishing a demon back to Hell; and the most implausible of all, I had fallen madly and deeply in love with a spirit.

When Gretchen told me coming to the Animus was our best shot at helping Kipp, I figured we’d pull him out of the Netherworld, not send me into it. “How do you know—without a doubt—that you can help me cross into the Netherworld to search for Kipp, and I won’t get killed in the process?”

Wayde’s eyes twinkled. “I know.”

“Yes, good and all,” I retorted. “But how do you know?”

Running a hand through his jet-black slicked hair, Wayde shifted in his seat and crossed an ankle over his knee. “We are the Animus. The knowledge you need is within our reach. I promise to share it, if you help us.”

At my snort, since that reassured me about as much as someone holding a dagger at my throat saying they weren’t going to slice my head off, Gretchen interjected. “A promise by a Grand Master is exactly that, Tess. You can trust him.”

Yeah, right.

Something she said interested me, though. I turned to Wayde. “You’re the new leader of this…bunch?”

He nodded. “In his will, Alexander requested I take over. This home always belongs to the Grand Master, so when he passed, the house was gifted to me.”

I scanned the, more or less, American Castle in slight awe. Gretchen said it had sixty-four rooms within the three stories. From what I’d seen already, the mansion had ornamental iron railings, fifteen-foot ceilings, and innovative features. Wayde was a lucky man. “Fair enough.” I glanced at him. “But you need to do better. I won’t help unless I know, without a doubt, you’re telling me the truth.”

Wayde frowned.

“A binding spell might be the best choice,” Gretchen offered. “It’s a solution to the problem. Not only will you,” she looked at me, “feel the truth behind his promise when he does the spell, but you’ll also know he has to uphold it.” She glanced at Wayde. “And this will ensure Tess holds up her end of the deal.”

Wayde hesitated, then gave a firm nod. “I’m in agreement.” He stared me down. “Will that suffice for you?”

As Gretchen had told me once, magic had to be conjured in truth, honesty, and full belief or it wouldn’t work, which left me hopeful. If Wayde agreed to the binding spell, that meant he didhave the answer I needed to get to Kipp. “Possibly,” I answered Wayde, then said to Gretchen. “But first, how does the binding spell work?”

“Exactly as it sounds,” she replied in her sweet, soft voice. “Wayde will be bound to uphold his promise to help you cross into the Netherworld, as you are bound to find and talk to Alexander.”

Another positive, but my non-magical brain needed more answers. “What will happen to him if he breaks his promise?”

“His soul will become tainted.” Gretchen’s eyes darkened, voice thickened. “He’ll grow sick and eventually die.”

“Meaning I could grow sick and die, too?” At her tight nod, I groaned and considered the pact. Did I want to enter into an agreement that could kill me if I reneged on it?

Did I even have a choice?

At my silence and obvious hesitation, Gretchen smiled. She hadn’t guided me wrong yet. I firmly believed she never would. Besides, if I didn’t help them, I’d lose my ride into the Netherworld. I didn’t even need to think it over. “All right. I’m in.” I hesitated. “Wait. This isn’t a blood promise, is it?”

BUY LINKS:

Amazon | B&N | All Romance | Smash Words

BIO: staceykennedy

Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart-squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. But within the stories you’ll also find fast-paced action, life-threatening moments, and a big bad villain who needs to be destroyed. She lives in Southwestern Ontario with her husband and two children. If she’s not plugging away at a new story—which is rare because her muse is annoying—you’ll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy, Supernatural and Dexter.

Stacey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her at:

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

Goodreads ~ Amazon

@Stacey_Kennedy

Weekend Writing Warriors – Wishful Thinking

Posted on February 24, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

Welcome friends new and old. I’m going to give you a couple more posts from the story I’ve been sharing. The first draft is finished and I’m in full on edit mode. 🙂

In the Blind (working title), and you can see the past six posts from this WIP here. The Logline: When a head hunter finds her dream lover in a night of pitch black unrestrained passion, she fears she’ll never find him again. Fate steps in and throws the two together, but they might never discover the truth and stay in the blind.

Over the past few weeks I’ve shared Jane’s experience at Club Blind. Last Week their night came to an end. Now, it’s the next day and Jane is talking to her best friend, Anne, on the phone. The first line is Jane’s.

“I can still hear his voice in my head.”

“He talked to you?”

“Yes, it was much more than I expected.”

“Jane.”

“I wish—”

“Jane, stop right there, you are not supposed to fall for this guy, he was your transition guy. Now you know it wasn’t you, Adam was wrong. I’ll set you up, okay?”

Do you think Jane is going to forget about her mystery man? Don’t worry, I have a plan, but it won’t be easy. You’ll have to come back to find out more. Until then, I hope you enjoyed my eight today. Thank you so much for visiting me, it means a lot to me that you took the time to visit my little place on the web. Don’t forget to check out the other Weekend Warriors and Saturday Spankings too. I hope to see you again next Sunday.

ROW80 check-in #51 Resolutions and Adventures

Posted on February 24, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I had fun this week and a bit of adventure too. Here it is the end of February and I remembered to live out one of my New Year’s Resolutions. Do you remember yours? Dig them out, it might bring you a very happy day like it did for me.

One of my resolutions: Find time for the things I enjoy outside of books and Nia, like downhill skiiing…Take time each week to make sure one of these things is on my calendar.

We are coming to the end of ski season here in Michigan and, until recently, we weren’t getting a lot of snow. This week I faced an important decision: take advantage of the week and do something I enjoy or stay home and work on the lengthy to-do list. Hmm. It was a harder decision than it should have been.

it’s actually been two-years since I’ve skied. I know, terrible. Last year, I let the season slip by, but not this year. Luckily, skiing is much like riding a bike, your body’s muscle memory can remember what to do. Of course, the more often you ski the better your muscles will be at remembering.

Interesting!

After all the prep work of layering, gathering supplies, driving to the hill, getting on the boots, lugging my stuff in, getting my lift ticket, trekking to the lift, skis on, and butt in the chair…lift ;), I starting seeing many similarities to a writer’s life.

The more often your butt is in the seat the better you’ll be at your craft.

So, there I am at the top of the hill, such a pretty view, but I was not looking out at the view, nope. I was looking down at what looked like an icy terrain. Crap. My local hill is usually groomed so nicely, but the weather really hasn’t been cooperating this year with all the snows and melts and snows. So many things out of my control <– sounds like a writer’s life, doesn’t it. I reminded myself, I knew what to do, knees soft, weight forward, turn to slow down. Eek! I went for it.

That first run was terribly shaky, the icy slope didn’t help. I wanted to hit the delete button and try again. I got back on the chair lift and went to a different trail. I tried something different, but I had the same results, another icy slope and a shaky run. It didn’t work for me. Again, I tried a different trail. On the chair lift, I remembered I had yet to put in my ear buds. What a difference music makes. The third trip down, I tried another trail, with the help of the music and finally a fluffy, un-icy terrain, I started to get my groove back. Over the next couple of runs, my confidence appeared, I gained speed, shifted better into my turns, and I flew down the hill. So much fun.

It took effort and determination. I had to put faith in my abilities. When it wasn’t working, I tried something a little different. I kept at it. I held on to my foundation and built on it. I didn’t give up. When it all came together, I had the time of my life. The runs became effortless.

For the next hour and a half I went up and down the hill and I had so much fun. The whole experience was an excellent reminder of what we live everyday with our writing.

And the bonus analogy: Taking off your boots feels so good it’s like… (I’ve heard some dirty endings to this sentence, but I’ll go a different way) the pure bliss to be found when you type “The End.”

Of course my to-do list is ugly now, but it was worth it. So, tell me, have you had an adventure lately or something that reminds you of the writing journey?

Also, have you had a chance yet to see my Most Romantic flash? The link is below if you want a look see.

The Goals – week-7 results

Spend at least 1-hour a day with my characters- done.
Daily progress in writing craft, word count, editing, and/or plotting- almost done. I finished the forth AND got half way through the fifth Lectures in my Margie Packet. I only edited on two days. I didn’t get to this goal everyday. I need to dig into my edits next week, it’s currently slow going, I need to try again and find my groove. WEEK 8 PRIORITY
Workout a minimum of three times a week and round it out with plenty of water, sleep and my calorie limit- DONE. I got in three workouts this week. Wahoo 😀
Daily Nia study (i.e. studying the song/movement structure)- not done. WEEK 8 PRIORITY
Stay on top of my co-op preschool Treasurer responsibilities- done. I deposited a ridiculous amount of checks this week and did lots of reporting too.
Organize something in the house each week- done. My in-laws came to town this week so my organizing consisted of a deep clean (my father-in-law is going through chemo). It was really good to see them both.

What you might have missed here this week:

Tantalizing Tuesday #4 – A Most Romantic Story
A Chat with Betty Carlton author of Zeke Kincaid’s Woman

A Chat with Betty Carlton author of Zeke Kincaid’s Woman

Posted on February 21, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I have a special guest here today, Betty Carlton. She’s sharing her new book, Zeke Kincaid’s Woman. You can click on the cover to see the book over at Goodreads. Below you’ll find the book details, the blurb, my conversation with Betty, an excerpt, the buy links, Betty’s bio, a rafflecopter for the tour wide giveaway, and all the places on the web were you can find Betty.

Zeke Kincaid’s Woman

by: Betty Carlton

Publisher: Sizzler Editions
Length: 113 Pages
Sub-Genres: Erotic Romance

BLURB:

On the musical stage in 1856 Lori Ann a singer extraordinaire impresses the audiences with her voice. Male admirers line up for a chance to meet her.

An enamored Zeke Kincaid is one of them. When Lori Ann refuses his marriage proposal. She didn’t know about Kincaid men and the events she set in motion by rejecting him.

Zeke Kincaid would make sure she understood. She didn’t have a choice. She would love him. One day, Lori Ann the singer disappears.

Under Zeke’s control he’ll see that she learns the lessons of submission and obedience in the Kincaid family tradition.

SJ: Your blurb sounds intriguing. Zeke sounds like an alpha to me, I love alphas. Thanks so much for stopping here today, Betty. I want you nice and comfortable, so let’s start with a picture of your favorite place in the world.

Betty: Actually, I’ve never been there. I found a photo on a calendar years ago that I saved. Since it had no information about where the picture was taken, and the company that issued the calendar wouldn’t help, it took me over 10 years to find it. Best part it’s almost in my own back yard. It’s in the fall and the leaves are golden as they fall around an old mill, built out of stone, next to a pond. Just looking at it de-stresses me. I will be visiting the state park where the structure is located next Fall.

SJ: How cool, your place was a mystery. How nice that you’ll finally get to visit. What was the first book to make a lasting impression on you?

Betty: Nokoa’s Woman by Gayle Rogers. I threw it up against the wall and picked it up and reread it again. I’m still not sure how it ends. lol

SJ: OMG, I hope it was a dead tree book, lol. What turns you on creatively?

Betty: Not sure how to answer that one. I found the quieter the better. Sometimes the ideas are barely whispers and I don’t want to miss them.

SJ: I know exactly what you mean, I’ve had to train myself to stop and take notice when ever those thoughts come. Can you tell us about your challenges in getting your first book published?

Betty: Let’s see the challenges. First- having no idea what I was getting myself into. Everyone thinks ‟Oh, I can write a book.” After the book is written then the challenge and rejections begin. I grew tired of the rejections. So, I changed my approach and found a publisher that gave a detailed outline of what they wanted and I wrote a story to fit exactly what they wanted. It worked in less than a day I had a contract offer in my email.

SJ: Whoa, so interesting. You took control, Betty. I love it. Which one of your characters would you NOT like to meet in real life?

Betty: The sheriff Winston Kincaid. He’s a mean one. I had to force a myself to put in a line to soften him up, but I wouldn’t trust him one iota.

SJ: Which one of your characters would you most like to meet in real life?

Betty: Zeke the hero of course, he’s the first of the Kincaid men to understand submission giving freely is so much better than forced or demanding it.

SJ: He sounds like my kind of guy. What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Betty: To have the strength, time, and money to do I as please. To be able help others when needed without worrying about the cost necessary to do so.

SJ: I love how that sounds, Betty. I want that kind of happiness. What is your greatest extravagance?

Betty: Permission to take care of myself. I have learned that what I need does matter. I can readily give me the Ok to say no to others. That may sound odd. However, I have learned the hard way if you give too much of yourself away to others when you need it the strength is gone.

SJ: That is so true. Saying no is a very important skill to have, I’m still learning that one. What is your favorite music (genre/artist/album/song)?

Betty: I lean toward the older music. The Golden oldies, old country and some musical scores. It might be due to my age getting older and don’t hear the words in the newer music. Kind of hard to sing if you don’t know it.

SJ: I know what you mean, I’m often searching the net to figure out what the singers are saying, lol. What is your motto?

Betty: ‟They’re all nice in the beginning”. It’s advice to me and those around me. When we begin new relationships we see only the nice things people want us to see. (yes even me)

SJ: That is so true, unfortunately. Tell us a bit about the projects you are working on now?

Betty: Oh, how I’d love to say Betty is knee-deep into a new adventure. But, the truth is she’s been a real goof off lately.

Who knows when the characters will return to pester me. I didn’t even know Zeke Kincaid existed until one day he showed up demanding his story be told.

SJ: Betty, you crack me up. It sounds to me like you better have your listening ears ready, I see a quiet time in your very near future. Thanks so much for visiting with me today, Betty, this was a lot of fun.

EXCERPT:

No one could accuse Ezekiel Kincaid of not knowing his own mind. A mind once made-up he stood behind with every inch of his six-foot-four inch frame. Another thing no one could accuse him of was not taking his time to find the right woman. Thirty-two years it took him to get here.

The small black box scooted across the table propelled by Ezekiel’s strong unfailing hand.

The woman across the table from him stared down at it. A smile from her set his heart to beat faster. He thought she was beautiful. She was young. She was enthralled with him.

‟Mr. Kincaid, is that for me?”

‟Of course, and it’s Zeke, remember.”

The young woman blushed. Zeke’s thoughts traveled down a road that told him she’d have a hell of a lot more to blush about once he had his hands on her.

‟Open it.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. Ezekiel Kincaid demanded she do so. Lori Ann Baxter never met the likes of the man whose table she shared, so she didn’t recognize the difference. Slender well manicured fingers gingerly picked up the velvet the box.

The hinges stiff from the newness as it seemed to resist opening. If it made a sound it could not be heard over the noise in the room.

Lori Ann expected earrings. Many men before Mr. Kincaid gave her presents. Earrings usually or a pin, but the contents of the case stunned her speechless.

‟Mr. Kincaid, I…”

The raised eyebrow on the face of the man she addressed caused her to stumble.

‟I mean, Zeke, I’m speechless. I never expected you. I mean we’ve only known each other seven days. I… I… .

The box closed with a snap. A snap that for the couple sitting there seemed to resonate through out the boisterous room.

‟The rings are exquisite, but I will not marry you.”

Lori Ann scooted the box back across the white linen table cloth. Back toward the man, whom no one ever dare reject before whether in business or his personal life.

Ezekiel sat there statue still. Only the throbbing blood vessel near his left temple gave anyone a hint of the anger consuming him at the moment.

Lori Ann looked sophisticated in the worldly sense of the word. In reality she lived a sheltered life, so unlike the personification of the woman people saw on stage.

Zeke didn’t respond to her rejection. Instead he chose to look around the room. The smoke filed air greeted his lungs as he took a deep breathe to calm down. The riotous noise that moments before he ignored, now echoed inside his head. Gratefully, the lights became subdued. The odor of the candle wax and oil lamps blended with the tobacco haze as the stage hands extinguished them. Only the lamps above the stage and the numerous candles stretched across the edge of the stage remained lit.

The stage took on a life all its own as it glowed, and the flames throwing their light danced when compared to the darkness now closing in around the tables and the rows of seats forming the audience.

A woman trying emulate the famous Jennie Lind walked on stage. She even copied her walk. The orchestra played, “I can but weep” by Robert Shumman.

The room quieted. The newest singer in a long sky-blue gown under the lights began to sing.

“When looking on thine a-sured eyes…”

Ah, now that woman could sing. Zeke thought.

He meant, Miss. Lind not the impostor in front of the crowd. Zeke knew because, he’d been one of those who parted with two hundred dollars just a few months ago. Money, he considered well spent. Miss Jenny Lind sung her heart out for the crowd in New York City, and he sat in the front row.

The vision in blue bowed and the room leaped to life with applause, cat-calls, and wild stomping of feet. Lori Ann finished clapping and turned to Zeke. An empty chair greeted her.

Not that anyone noticed, Lori Ann sighed with relief.

Buy Links:

Renebooks.com | Amazon.com | Amazon.com UK | Adultbookshop.com

BIO:

Betty Carlton is a time long resident of the tar-heel state. It was late in her life before she realized those pesky people in her headwere characters who had something to say.

Even though she loved to read being a writer was never on her ‘Bucket list.’ She likes to read fluffy romance novels where the dukefinds his duchess or the cowboy rides into the sunset with his lady love to live happily-ever-after.

Imagine her surprise, when she finally put pen to paper and discovered her leading men at times barely could be called a hero. Her stories have been referred to as dark, erotica, at times anguishing. She never had so much fun as when working the story lines. However, true to herself there’s always a happy ending.

‟Reading should take you away, but always leave you with hope.

~~~ a Rafflecopter giveaway ~~~

Where you can find Betty

Blogspot.com ~ Facebook.com ~ Facebook Fan Page ~ Twitter
Goodreads.com ~ Google+ ~ Linkedin.com

@betcar1

Tantalizing Tuesday #4 – A Most Romantic Story

Posted on February 19, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I shared my good news in my ROW80 post on Sunday. To recap, I entered a flash fiction challenge last Thursday hosted by Siobhan Muir called the #ThursThreads Challenge and I won Most Romantic Story!! Today, I’ll be sharing my winning flash and the photo that helped inspire the words.

First, did you forget? It’s been a while.

Tuesdays aren’t for flashing…they’re for teasing. The rules of TT: I select the picture and 200 words to tease. My tease is 205 words today, please forgive me.

photo credit: Groovnick via photopin cc

Vanessa dug her fingers into the cool, wet sand, loving the slip and slide of the grains caressing her fingers, and watched as the water rinsed her hand clean. She wished her life could be so simple.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

Her body froze, but her heart kicked into high gear. She pushed against the comfort of the shore to stand and face the man she’d love forever.

“I’m no good for you.” She turned to run, but he stepped in front of her.

“What good does it do?” He reached his hand out and caressed her cheek. “I’ll always come for you.”

“Oh, Carlo.” She shook her head and looked away as the tears began to fall.

He took a step closer, invading her space. “You’re the one I want, Vanessa.” He claimed her lips. “It’s always been you.”

She pushed, but he pushed back, moving them deeper into the water. The waves shoved against their legs forcing them closer together and she felt her life come back into focus. He was right to find her, he held her heart.

“Oh, Carlo. I love you.”

“I know.”

She giggled and kissed him, finally letting go and letting him in, where he belonged.

Hope you enjoyed my tease today and I hope you found it romantic!! Don’t forget to visit the other teasers at Tantalizing Tuesday. Or click away on the links below.

Paloma Beck: http://romancebeckons.blogspot.com
Angie Crum http://cherrydarling317.wordpress.com/
Angelica Dawson: http://angelicadawson.blogspot.com
Pablo Michaels: www.pmmanmanromance.com
J S Morbius: http://morbiussworld.blogspot.co.uk/
Doris O’Connor: http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.co.uk/
Ray Sostre: http://theafterdarkworld.blogspot.com/
Gemma Parkes: http://gemmaparkes.blogspot.com/
Karen Sullivan http://Wildfire8470.Wordpress.Com/
Ella Grey http://www.ellagrey.wordpress.com
Dakota Trace: http://alittlebitofnaughty.blogspot.com/
Jake Malden: http://jakemalden.blogspot.com

Weekend Writing Warriors – His Strong Hold

Posted on February 17, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

Welcome friends new and old. I’m going to give you a couple more posts from the story I’ve been sharing. The first draft is finished and I’m in full on edit mode. 🙂

Over the past few weeks we’ve seen Jane remove her clothes, leave her bad memories behind, and get her first kiss and then some at Club Blind. It’s the kind of place where they turn off all the lights, clothing is not an option, and they pair you up to… 😉 Rest assured, the club stands by the motto: safe, sane, and consensual. Last Week Jane grasped why so many love the thrills of Club Blind. Today I’ve skipped a good bit, but I’ll give you almost the final 8 from this scene. They’ve just received a two-minute warning. Someone will be coming to take Jane from her mystery man and escort her back to the locker room.

She knew she’d regret not saying anything and in this moment she needed him to know how he’d affected her.

Her hand reached up and caressed his cheek. “We aren’t supposed to exchange any information, and I’ll respect that, but I’d like to thank you for tonight. I needed this.”

He pulled her on top of him and they wrapped their arms around each other. This was nothing but a night of fantastic sex, not a moment to get choked up. His hold on her tightened, he held her with such strength, she couldn’t and didn’t want to pull away.

A new hand landed on her shoulder. “It’s time to go.”

Hope you enjoyed my eight today. Thank you so much for visiting me, it means a lot to me that you took the time to visit my little place on the web. Don’t forget to check out the other Weekend Warriors and Saturday Spankings too. I hope to see you again next Sunday.

ROW80 check-in #50 Living the Routine

Posted on February 17, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

I have some fun news to share. Did you know that Siobhan Muir holds a flash fiction challenge every Thursday, called the #ThursThreads Challenge? I entered for the first time this past Thursday and won Most Romantic Story!! 😀 I’ve been smiling ever since. To make it all the sweeter, one of my favorite authors was the judge this week, Sandra Bunino!! <– Love her books. Be sure to come back on Tuesday, I’ll be sharing my winning flash and the photo that helped inspire the words.

Toot Toot!! 😀 Okay, now onto the ROW80 post…

Any journey is filled with ups and downs, triumphs and struggles. We know this. We’ve heard the very true saying:

“If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing well. If it is worth attaining, it is worth fighting for. If it is worth experiencing, it is worth putting aside time for.” ― Author Unknown

But do we know it down to our bones or do we have to remind ourselves? I took a look at the tiles of my last 5-ROW80 posts: A New Routine, Something is Working, Can I Get a Do Over?, Starting Fresh, Slow and Steady, Perseverance. Hmm, interesting. I see the ups and downs of the last 5 weeks right there.

I dug out that famous quote to remind myself, like I keep doing and will keep doing. I want this journey. One thing I know that will help: I’d like to become my own best friend, my own personal cheerleader. Some weeks I’m better at the personal friendship bit than others. I love supporting my friends, so why not me too?

My goals are worth doing and I want to do them well. They are so worth fighting for. I don’t want to just live day to day, I want to experience the journey. I want to push past my fears and keep trying. That’s why I’m here.

I’ll continue to mold my routine to keep me moving forward. I’ll remember some weeks will see more progress than others. As long as I keep trying, I’ll keep moving forward. Sure, I want success yesterday, but it is worth waiting for.

Are you your own best friend? Please share your tips with this newbie.

The Goals – week-6 results

Spend at least 1-hour a day with my characters- done.
Daily progress in writing craft, word count, editing, and/or plotting- done. I started the forth Lecture in my Margie Packet. I edited on three-days and I finished a critque for my CP.
Workout a minimum of three times a week and round it out with plenty of water, sleep and my calorie limit- DONE. I got in four workouts this week.
Daily Nia study (i.e. studying the song/movement structure)- I did some practice teaching this week, but that’s about it. WEEK 7 PRIORITY
Stay on top of my co-op preschool Treasurer responsibilities- done. Bills, bills bills. Can you say, “Checks in the mail.” 😀
Organize something in the house each week- done. I finished my part in our tax prep. Wahoo. Looking forward to organizing something different next week.

What you might have missed here this week:

Spotlight: The Submission of a Mafia Princess by Sandra Bunino
Review: The Naked Truth by Lacey Wolfe

Sources: Manifest Your Potential blog: Experiences You Love Inspiring Quotes

Review: The Naked Truth by Lacey Wolfe

Posted on February 14, 2013 by S.J. Maylee

The Naked Truth

by: Lacey Wolfe

Publisher: Southern Girl Press
Length: 222KB
Sub-Genres: Contemporary Romance

Happy Valentines Day!! Today I have for you the latest release from Lacey Wolfe. Below you’ll find the blurb, my review, an excerpt, and all the details for connecting with Lacey. Click the pretty cover to see this book on Goodreads.

BLURB:

It’s amazing what one can find in strip clubs…

Josh Carter gets the shock of a lifetime when he shows up at a place of ill repute for a business meeting and sees the one that got away gyrating on the stage. Abigail Reese—the girl with so much potential, the girl that took his heart along with his body one night long ago—what brought her to this level?

Though stripping is not what Abigail set out to do, it’s putting food on the table and a roof over her daughter’s head. But just how much can she reveal to Josh without risking it all?

When Josh causes Abigail to lose her job, she has two choices: come clean about her past and her situation or push him out of her life as quick as he came into it. It’s up to her…only she has to think of her little girl too.

SJ’s REVIEW:

A quick satisfying read, that’s exactly what this is. The author painted a heroine to care about, one that doesn’t just fall over in love, but makes her hero earn his rights. The story moves fast too and it may be short, but Lacey didn’t miss giving the story any of the plot points you’ll want.

It’s a contemporary romance and there is one scene in particular that I remember. It was hot and very well written. The hero gives us one line that just simply made me melt, you’ll have to read it to find it 🙂

If you need a quick sweet read, without the drama, than this contemporary romance is for you. It’s a solid 4-star read.

EXCERPT:

Abigail stood in front of room one, took a deep breath, and lightly knocked before opening the door. Her nerves were on edge as she wondered who waited inside. The room was dimly lit with yet another pole in the middle for those customers who wanted private shows. The man’s head was slightly turned to where she couldn’t see who it was. But something in her gut told her she knew him. While she didn’t recognize him from this angle, she had a feeling things were about to change. Abigail wasn’t really sure what to say, so she leaned against the pole and asked in a sultry tone, “What can I do for you?”

He turned and looked at her. Abigail froze. Her mouth dropped open. She knew exactly who it was. She hadn’t seen him in years and he was slightly older now. But it was a face she’d recognize anywhere. In fact, she looked at a replica of it almost every day.

“Josh.” It came out an almost whisper.

He nodded. His expression was cold, not like the last time she’d seen him over four years ago. His hair was a light brown with a few streaks of gray and his dark green eyes bore into her.

“What are you doing here? Did you come looking for me?” she asked, needing to know if his being here was a mere coincidence.

“I’m here on business and when you came on stage, I recognized you. Years ago you were getting your degree to be a lawyer. You were doing so well and I have to say I was quite surprised to see you. So when I came in here, I certainly wasn’t looking for you. What happened? Anything I can do to help?” He patted the seat next to him. “Please sit. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Abigail did as he requested, but she didn’t answer his questions. Just him being there scared her. She wasn’t sure how much he knew about her and decided it was best to keep quiet. He was a rich man and held a lot of power.

“Did you finish your degree?” he asked.

“No.”

“How come?”

Because I got pregnant and school doesn’t work with a crying newborn. “Life.”

“You’ve got to give me more than that. I’d like to help you. Obviously if you’re working here, you’ve hit a rough patch.” His gaze locked on hers. “I’ve thought about you many times the last few years. I never intended for our evening together to be a one-time thing.” Josh reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. A shiver shot down her spine.

Abigail thought back to that evening. It had been hot and perfect. He’d pleasured her more than anyone else ever had and they connected on so many levels. She’d known he’d wanted more than that one night—he’d been honest about the direction his thoughts were taking—but it had scared her and the next day, she’d left a fake phone number when they’d parted ways. By the time she realized the mistake she’d made, it had been too late, or so, she thought.

“I got scared.”

Josh removed his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “As much as I enjoy the view, I’m not here for that.”

She suppressed the grin she wanted to give him and asked, “Why are you here if you didn’t come to see me?”

Josh was older than her by at least ten years. His life was already established when she’d met him and hers had just begun. She’d kept up with him throughout the years from different news reports and tabloids. It was almost hard not to. Josh Carter was a billionaire. It was one of the reasons why she’d never sought him out. Abigail wasn’t a gold digger and didn’t want to be accused of being one.

“Business, of course. I think that’s my life. The guys I was meeting with are younger and this was the place they wanted to come and for one particular act. The amazing girl on the pole.” He leaned in closer to her ear. “I must say, I was impressed by your act.”

Her heart raced, the result of him being so close. Even after all these years, he still had an effect on her. Biting her bottom lip, she pushed those feelings away and remembered that if he knew her secret, he could take everything from her.

“How about you get dressed and we’ll get out of here? I’d like to catch up,” he suggested.

Hailey crossed her mind and the babysitter who was waiting with her. “I can’t. I have to get home.”

“I understand.” Josh reached into his pocket and took out a card, handing it to her. “Call me. I’ll be in town for the next week and I’d like to chat. Maybe we can meet up for dinner and if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you get back on your feet.”

“Okay, I will.” She stood and began to remove his jacket.

“Keep it. It’s the only way I can ensure I’ll see you while I’m in town.”

“Thank you.” She gazed down at him. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I’m doing well and happy, even though this wasn’t the life I initially set out to have.” Abigail didn’t say another word, but left room one and high-tailed it back to the dressing room to change and get home. Josh Carter being in town was either going to be a good thing or a bad. Or maybe it was time she faced the truth and did what was right by Hailey. After all, her daughter deserved better then she had it now.

BIO:

Lacey Wolfe has always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing her own. From the time she was a child she would slip away to write short stories about people she knew and fantasies she wished would happen. It has always been her dream to be a published author and with her two children now of school age, she finally has the time to work on making her dream come true.

Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband, son and daughter, their six cats and one black lab who rules the house.

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