Sorceress of Faith OFFICIALLY Released.
Life is good.She was running, running, running. Marian wished the passages were narrower, twistier, because the thing that chased her was huge and deadly. With each breath putrid air seared her lungs. The cavern's corridors oozed slime.
She stumbled, clutched the plastic ball holding her hamster close. Looking down at her cross-trainer shoes in horror, she saw the laces were untied. She always tied them in perfect double bows.
A vibration hit her back. The monster's long breath. Stitch cramping her side, she used terror for a burst of speed and reached narrow upward stairs. Fresher air, laden with blood instead of poisonous acid, fouled her nostrils. She climbed, thinking the thing behind her could flow up the stairs. It wanted her blood, her guts, her brains.
Bumping from side to side, scraping skin raw, protecting her pet, she jumped up the steps and burst out onto a wide ledge of rock. With agility she didn't know she had, she pivoted, avoiding the edge, hit the cliff face. Leaned into it. Gulping night air, she felt the thing brush past her, and fall screaming.
She couldn't stop herself from looking down. Saw something worse than the huge shattered body of the monster that had hunted her. Her younger brother Andrew lay surrounded by chanting black-robed druids who looked like death personified. Some of the druids held scythes, some gongs, some chimes.
Prone, Andrew was more pale than he'd ever been in life. Shrieking, "Nooooo!" she put the ball between her feet, lifted her arms as if she could call thunder that would set his heart to thumping again, push his blood; lightning that would nail his soul into his body, fire the spark of life.
A wet chuckle came beside her, freezing her blood. Slowly she turned her head to see a cowled figure with gleaming red eyes, a face not quite human but which might have been a man's, once. He opened his mouth wide, and it got larger and larger, ready to swallow her whole. She raised her hands, fingertips arcing blue fire--
Marian Harasta jolted from the dream, covered in clammy sweat. Morning light streamed through the high windows of her garden apartment and she gasped in relief.
Before she could exhale, the chimes sounded, rippling through her nerves and echoing in her mind. Then the gong reverberated, arching her body off the bed. Her vision blurred and distant chanting rushed in her ears. She was bowed for one long moment before she fell back onto the bed, panting.
First the nightmare. Now the sounds. For the past month, dreams and auditory hallucinations had peppered her life – sleeping and waking. She steadied herself with even breathing. She would figure out what was happening to her. She'd had a full physical the week before, and a psychological evaluation, too. And she was perfectly fine.
Thank you for this opportunity.
May you find infinite satisfaction in your writing today.








These are the numbers (like Social Security numbers) that your book is known by. ISBNs recently moved to longer numbers...well, while surfing I found HeartMate's new number!
This is the worst thing that can happen to a writer because you always think you can't recreate the paragraphs/page/scene/chapter to the original brilliance. The truth is, you may NOT be able to do it again as well as you originally did. Or you might do it better.
I think that sometimes when we are stuck in the middle of the book -- or even later, awash in my least favorite part, 3/4 from the end -- or even after revising the first 3 chapters of a book several times -- the lure of dropping this for the next story is almost beyond resisting.
I think I've mentioned that these can be tough for me. It seems every one out of four or so can have me tearing my hair out...and this is hard because I'm selling on proposal -- first three chapters (or first chapter) and synopsis.
In writing circles, there is something known as The Call. Capitals. Might even be
Here's PART 2 of an old contest scoresheet that the Rocky Mtn Fiction Writers revised (with input from the whole organization) in 1997.

Lately I've been consulting a lot of maps in my writing to get the choreography of a scene right. Three to be exact...a Castle map (the one inside Guardian of Honor and Sorceress of Faith), a map of Lladrana (the country) and Amee (the world), (on my website), and the set up of a tower suite at the castle.
I like to include the title in my book somewhere, and I think it's important for me in my Luna series where the title refers to the heroine. So I have found a place to use the title in the work, having someone call my heroines this, "Guardian of Honor," "Sorceress of Faith," and "Protector of the Flight." It's a little disconcerting, though, when they change the title on you. For the Heart books, I usually use the words together in a sentence. i.e. He was truly a heart thief....She pursued her heart quest...
Definition of Pantzer: A writer who sits down and lets the words flow (or bleed drop-by-drop) upon the paper/computer screen. Not planning, plotting ahead of time. One who writes out of sequence…
I have something in my Luna books I call "the Snap." The underlying premise of the books is that average American women are Summoned to another land to fight horrible monsters invading the place. "The Snap" is when Mother Earth "calls" to our heroine with enough force to pull her back to Colorado and her old, interrupted life (time passes the same in both worlds since they're close to each other in the Dimensional Corridor).
Yesterday I couldn't settle down. I had an appointment in the middle of the day and a later one (research) that had some mildly tricky timing with the bus. I messed around and did housework most of the am, then when it was time to go for my mid-day appointment I hadn't made my wordcount. I'd JUST started, but a few sentences were lurking in my brain. So I was ready to take off when my conscience got the better of me and I went back into the house for a microcassette recorder. I talked at stop lights, when the traffic was slight, and a couple of minutes after I reached my destination. 
All right, what I'm telling you here is not new and can probably be found all over the web on different author websites under articles. The best you can expect is perhaps a different slant or a different verbage that might perhaps (note the qualifications) click better.
Wow. I KNEW Berkley was reissuing HeartMate (with new cover, probably an amber heart necklace) in August, but I didn't know that there were, like, no new copies...but it seems so. At least on amazon and bn.com and Ingrams there aren't any to be had directly from the sites (though in the "used" section there are some new ones). Wow.
All right, down from the high of writing yesterday (the rest of the day went downhill from there), and contemplating the new year and Deadlines.