Or then again, maybe not. This is Georgia we’re talking about.
Let me explain. About a week ago, I built a fire in the living room to take off the chill. A few days before that, it had been up near 80F outside, so I had no firewood in. We all thought we were finished with the heat for the year. Just in case, I brought a little more wood up.
And then it turned warm. All right, not warm. HOT!
Three days ago we had two days of 80 degree weather again. Ir had rained, so outdoors was like a sauna. I turned on the AC not so much to cool down the house as to draw the humidity out of the air. Same thing the next day.
Yesterday the high was 63 with drizzle all day. Today may reach 70. I don’t know yet. But the humidity is once again terrible.
In the meantime, I’ve been doing some writing and some reading.
If you like murder mysteries, check out the Widow’s Island novellas. (I’ve been binge reading.)
On the home front, I’ve been writing an article about Gambler’s Folly and working on Tiger’s Tempest. My editor is working on Ben of Blackstone’s Forge.
Tiger’s Tempest?
Think Tiger shifters meeting on Gambler’s Folly. She’s a forensic photographer. He is president of the security division for his families pharmaceutical corporation and working with Interpol on counterfeit drugs. They hadn’t intended to get married when he offered to play tour guide for her skiing and photography trip to Crystal Mountains. It just sort of…well, happened.
And Ben of Blackstone’s Forge?
Ben’s family has a way with iron, which makes their trade as blacksmiths considerably easier. He’d always thought he and Deborah would marry, but when he left the village to finish his apprenticeship, something happened. Now she will scarcely speak to them. Both his father and hers are rather strongly suggesting they each need to find a partner, but the only woman he wants as his wife is Deborah. And because of what happened while Ben was away, Deborah has decided she will never marry. Until their fathers get together and come up with a solution.
Wish me luck. With this crazy weather and the hectic schedule I’ve had lately, I’ll need all the help I can get.
How is everyone this Easter weekend? I know it is a busy time of year, what with holidays and springtime gardening, and all the other things going on this time of year. In our case, cold weather and rain.
We’ve made it to Round 2 in the Allauthor cover contest for April, with Too Many Talents.
If you voted for Too Many Talents in the first round, thank you! I appreciate all your support. I never thought I would go on to another orund.
But I need your help again, if you can spare a moment. Since I’m in the second round, please go over and give me another vote!
And if you haven’t read the books from Esperance, go on over to Amazon or Smashwords and give them a try. If you’d like an excerpt, just check out the excerpt page. I haven’t put anything up for Too Many Talents yet, but I believe all the others are there.
Have an enjoyable week and don’t forget to send a vote my way!
Monday started with an appointment with the eye doctor, which wasn’t bad, but takes at least half the day with the drive time. And since my husband had a business trip the next day, once we got home we were packing all his stuff so he could leave early the next morning. By early, I mean 4 am. Yeah, he’s one of those.
Wednesday our 12 year old kitty, Magellan crossed the rainbow bridge, so I had to deal with that, so all the stuff I was going to do was postponed until the next day.
That night, one of our other kitties, Monster, started sneezing. Afraid she might have caught what Magellan had, Thursday was a rush to the veterinary hospital to check her out. Fortunately, it seems she has seasonal allergies. And I will admit, the pollen this week has been terrible. Once again, things got pushed back to take care of the kitties.
So that brings us to Friday. I was finally able to get in and order new glasses and do some shopping. And after a couple weeks of nice cool temperatures–like in the 50’s and low 60’s F–the day turned hot. Like 85 F hot. And I’m not a fan of heat to begin with.
So my blogging has been put on hold while I dealt with life in general.
Never fear! I am writing, although I may not have done as much as planned.
Tiger’s Tempest is moving right along. I’ll keep you posted.
But in the meantime, how about a peek at Ben of Blackstone’s Forge–next in the Esperance Series?
Excerpt:
Moire had accepted his invitation to the Gather dance eagerly. After a nice dinner, she took his arm as they walked to the dance. At least she wasn’t awkward and could follow his lead. Not as well as Deborah, but well enough for the experience to be enjoyable.
After dancing for quite a while, he suggested a break for refreshments. Weaving between the tables, they carried tall glasses of lemonade to a free table and sat down to relax while they enjoyed their drinks.
He knew it couldn’t last. Something always came up when he began to enjoy himself too much.
“Ben Blackstone! What are you doing with her?”
It was Deborah, of course. She wouldn’t come out with him, but resented it when he dated anyone else.
“Drinking lemonade. Good evening, Deborah. Yes, I’m fine and enjoying my evening. Kind of you to ask.”
“Ben, I’m sorry. Do I need to leave?” Moire asked nervously.
“No. You don’t. Could you sit here and wait for me? I’ll be right back. Let me take care of this.”
Rising to his feet, he stretched to his full height and glared down at the source of his irritation.
“Shall we?” he asked, motioning her toward the open ground outside the refreshment area.
With a swish of fabric from her ankle-length skirt, Deborah turned and stormed away in front of him. Once they were away from the crowd, she whirled, hands on her hips, and fire in her eyes.
“How dare you ask Moire to the dance?” she demanded.
“Why is it any business of yours?” he demanded in turn.
“But Moire, of all the women you could have asked.”
“Look, I know you two are rivals. But since I figured you wouldn’t come out with me, I chose to ask her.”
“Why do you think I wouldn’t have come?”
“Let me see,” he stated. “It could be something to do with the fact that you’ve turned me down three dances in a row, and won’t even accept an invitation for coffee. What do you think?”
“I think… I hate you, Ben Blackstone!” she shouted.
Her wrist smacked into his palm as he prevented her from slapping him. He caught the second one, too, and smiled at her, as her eyes flashed angrily.
“Now, Deb,” he began. “You know better than to slap me.”
“Let me go, you bastard.”
“I’ll let you go when I figure you won’t try it again,” he answered.
“Fine! Can I have my hands back?”
“First, let me explain something to you,” he said softly. “I will see anyone I care to see. You do not have a say in the matter. If you won’t accept my invitations, you cannot dictate who I may ask. Are we clear on this?”
“Let me go,” she answered just as quietly, temper seething beneath the surface.
Releasing her wrists, Ben stepped back a pace.
“Good evening, Miss Wills. It was nice talking with you.”
Deborah turned, nose in the air, and strode away from him. Ben hurried back to the table he’d left and found it empty.
“Sir?” the owner of the stand said.
“Yes? What is it?”
“The young lady who was sitting here said to tell you she was sorry, she’d had a nice time, but she was leaving early. She didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”
“Damn it all to hell,” Ben growled. “Why does she always do this to me?”
“I’m sorry?” the man asked.
“Not the lady at the table. The one who came bursting in shouting accusations.”
“Oh. Yes, sir. She is a bit forceful, shall we say.”
“She’s a gold-plated bitch,” he replied, startling the man.
I know it probably seems like it takes me a long time to get a new book to you. But the writing is just the beginning. Actually, the first draft is the easiest bit. It’s what comes after that gives me a headache.
Editing.
Yep. That one word right there is the bane of my existence.
Why?
As an independent, self-published author, I can’t afford all the rounds of editing with a professional editor a lot of traditionally published authors enjoy. So after I get done with the first draft — which anyone will tell you is far from a good read– I set it aside, work on something else for a while, and let my mind change gears.
As the author of a manuscript, I am too close to the story to view it objectively, especially immediately after it’s finished. I know the back story for the characters, so I don’t catch some of the holes in the fabric of the story. I know how they got to where they are.
But you might not.
And I see what I know should be written, not necessarily what is written. So I miss little mistakes like missing words or transitions. I know they should be there, so I gloss over them.
So once I finish the manuscript, set it aside for a bit, and come back to it, I generally go over it several times.
The first time I’m checking for obvious errors, like misspelled words, missing words, strange punctuation, and any huge chunks of missing information.
Then I check for story flow in the next round.
Third, I go over everything carefully, changing the wording so I’m showing you what I want you to see, not telling you about it. I want you to walk with my character through the woods, smelling the earthy scent of the leaf mold, hearing the birds in the trees. I want you to experience it, not just hear about it.
And then I read through it again, for all of the above. I find I do better with this if I transfer it to my tablet, so I can read it as a book. Mistakes stand out begtter than they do on my desktop or my laptop.
Finally, when I’ve driven myself crazy with it, I send it to our daughter, who is my proofreader and editor. She has a good eye for detail and isn’t afraid to call me up and say, “Mom, what on earth are you talking about here? Where did you pull this information from? Uh-huh… Your backstory. You might have let us in on this a bit earlier.”
So it’s a process. It would be nice if I could write a perfect first draft, but I don’t think anyone can pull off such a magic trick.
So what is in the works?
The very next thing coming up for Mellie Miller is Ben of Blackstone’s Forge, another book from Esperance. Like Morgan, Ben is an inset into the Esperance story. While it brings information to us about what’s happening between the clans, it is mainly about the love story between Ben and Deborah.
From Gambler’s Folly, next up is Old Flame. Kort and Elizabeth went to university together, as friends, though they never dated. Now thirty years later, they meet unexpectedly on a trip to Gambler’s Folly. He is now the billionaire catch of the universe. She, a humble energy healer from a small Appalachian town. Join them for the fun and games which follow, Gambler’s Folly style.
I have one more book written in the Esperance series, not ready for the editor yet, and two others written for Gambler’s Folly–with another one in the writing process.
As for Sultonna Nadine, check out my other site for news on what my alter-ego is up to.
Sultonna Nadine was the name my parents were originally going to give me, until family insisted I be named after my grandmothers instead. (sigh)
Families, eh?
But part of me always wanted to be Sultonna.
For some reason, when I began writing, it never occurred to me to use a pen name. And after my series got started, I didn’t want to change halfway through. So when I began writing stand alone books, someone suggested I use Sultonna Nadine for those! And since they don’t fit conveniently into my series, and some of them are a bit out there, I decided to do just that.
Sultonna writes of things magical, in alternate realities, or if not magical, at least on far away worlds. Always with at least a hint of romance.
So far, she has published one book, but never fear. Another one should be out this year!
Where can you learn more?
Go over to SultonnaNadine.com. I’m still tweaking the site, so be patient.
After yesterday’s all day and all night rain, today is beautiful outside. Makes me wish I didn’t have so much to do inside, but the Lugnut and I can take a walk in a little while.
Still working away on Tiger’s Tempest in the Gambler’s Folly series. I have nearly 18,000 words down so far and, at the moment, a pretty good idea of where we’re going. Of course, with my characters, the route could change drastically. They are a headstrong bunch. But that’s what I get for writing about alpha male shifters I suppose.
If you could be a shifter, what would you be?
I always thought I would love to be a black leopard. They look so elegant, even if they do seem to have only two attitudes–calm, cool, and collected, or totally pissed off.
So far in my books, including those published and unpublished, I have leopards, panthers, wolves, bears, and now tigers.
What else would you like to see?
From Esperance, the next one in line is Ben of Blackstone’s Forge. As you might have guessed, Ben is a blacksmith. What makes him different is his family’s Talent for shaping iron.
No… That’s enough of a hint. You’ll have to read the book for the rest. But how about a tiny excerpt?
****
Excerpt:
If anyplace could be consider as hot as hell, it was a blacksmith’s forge in midsummer, Ben thought, as he strode to the well. Icy water filled his mug with a cheerful splash, after a couple quick strokes on the pump handle.
The first mugful went down in three healthy gulps. Pulling the folded kerchief from around his head, he rinsed the salt-encrusted cloth in another cold stream of water from the well.
The second mug of water brought a quick gasp as he poured it over his head, but it was refreshing after several hours of heating and hammering steel in the forge, where he worked with his father. Water flew in a circle of droplets as he shook the excess from his wavy brown hair, leaving it spiked in all directions.
Once more he filled the mug. Leaning his tall frame against the pump, he slowly sipped the cool liquid as his dreamy blue eyes scanned the street around the forge.
“Good morning, Ben,” he heard from a familiar voice.
Turning toward the voice, he raised his mug and gave a brief nod to the pretty young woman walking toward him. With her light brown, nearly blond hair, and warm brown eyes, she was a sight to give a man dreams.
“Don’t I rate more than a nod, Ben Blackstone?” she demanded. “You could at least smile.”
“Hardly seems worth the effort, Deborah, when all it will gain me is a snide remark or a new chastisement for some imagined affront.”
“You are the most irritating man I know,” she told him as he took another pull from the mug.
He had no response for her accusation and continued to enjoy the water before he had to go back into the hell known as Blackstone’s Forge. He loved the work, but summers could be downright miserable.
Deborah was still glaring at him, hands on her hips, head tipped to the side, and eyes flashing in anger.
“Did you need something, Deb, or are you just here to annoy me?”
“My name is Deborah, not Deb, and absolutely not Debbie. And yes, I do need something. I’ve got better things to do than make a special trip to annoy you.”
*****
Need something to fill the time until Ben of Blackstone’s Forge is published?
All right, I know there are some of you writers out there who don’t mind editing. And some who actually enjoy the process.
I am not one of those people. Hate it with a passion. I find it particularly tedious, even though I love the results once I finish with it and send it on to my editor. And I’m sure she appreciates my efforts.
I’ve heard the saying that your first draft is you telling yourself the story. The edits are you refining this story for your audience, and I suppose it’s true. I just hate the process. It gives me a headache.
I’m hoping to have Whiskey Jug Genie out later this year and I’m struggling through it. I may have to start adding a splash of whiskey to my coffee at this rate.
It’s like I can see the story unfold in my head, but capturing those thoughts on paper as I paint those pictures for others is another matter.
And it seems in each story I write, I pick one word to continually repeat–sometimes several times on one page. What is wrong with me?
At any rate, this is only an update on my trials and tribulations. Wish me luck as I fight my way through.
Writers, drop me a comment and tell me about your woes as a writer.
And tell me which version of the cover you like best. It is still a work in progress. Remember, this is a redneck genie…
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend. It is a beautiful day out here today, so I’m thinking of taking the Lugnut for a walk.
And then tonight, I’m going to find something to read. I just finished The Forgotten Witch by Jessica Dodge and loved every page of it. Elements of magic and romance, past and present lives… I would definitely recommend it if you’re a fan of the genre.
What are you reading tonight?
Can I interest you in something romantic, with a twist of the paranormal?
Mellie's Books 