Thursday, December 30, 2010

Daughter of Fire

My semi-finalist Hawaiian paranormal novel, Daughter of Fire, is back as a free read on textnovel.com

It is dedicated to the divas who have had my back all this year, through tough times and good.

Candi Wall, Jennifer L.Hart, Gail Hart, Saranna DeWylde, Liane Gentry Skye, Valorie Dorr. You all rock and you are my strength.

Enjoy at your leisure.

http://www.textnovel.com/story/Daughter-of-Fire/5543/

Friday, July 09, 2010

Greek God story on Textnovel

So I recently discovered my newest WIP, Betting on a God, was chosen as an editor's choice.
Woot!

http://www.textnovel.com/stories_list_detail_reviews.php?story_id=4336

Read, enjoy, do a little snoopy dance.

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Reflections on the 4th

The night sky has been illuminated in fiery fashion. The cups of the American people have been filled once again with the sweet wine of patriotism.
Today we celebrate and come together as a nation to understand who we are as a country. When you look up into the sky to watch those blazing balls of light explode in time to John Phillips Souza and Irving Berlin, what crosses through your mind? Do you think to those brave men on that hot and humid day signing a declaration for a new nation? Can you see those valiant men in blue and grey, falling by the thousands on that verdant green field in Gettysburg, so that all men could be free? Are the faces of men storming a beach in Normandy to stop a mad man so the world could be free floating before your eyes? Do you think of the men and women dying and fighting this very night in a far off country?
Remember no matter what problems you might have right now, there will always be something bigger and stronger and more pressing then that small issue you face right now. Take a breathe, step back, and then you will understand. You will know what this day truly means. This Fourth of July. This 234th birthday of our great United States. God Bless America.

Monday, June 07, 2010

Excerpt of Tusk

Here is an excerpt of my newest W.I.P. Hawaiian paranormal...Tusk:

Puna, Hawaii, 500 years ago
The unfathomable pain and revolting aroma of scorched flesh filled the usually sweet tropical air, turning it sour. Pain, no mortal could endure, pushed him past the brink of sanity. Luckily, he wasn’t mortal. His back was on fire, covered in thick lava and flames. Dropping to the ground he routed against the earth in a desperate attempt to put out the fire searing his flesh.
Opening his eyes, the cool soil absorbing some of the pain, he glanced down at his forearms. Beneath the surface of his bronzed flesh, something rolled. His stomach turned as a wave of crippling pain overtook him again. His bones lengthened and curved. A popping sound filled the air and a roar ripped from his throat. He grunted and fought against the change the torture forced his body to make.
His muscular frame bent low to the ground, course fur rippled along his arms, down his torso, and tusks exploded from his lengthening snout. He grunted out, the pain in his back slowly subsiding as the change overcame him.
He stood on all fours, more animal then man and turned his head to the mountain dripping lava down its sides. He cursed silently, the anger and mistrust filling every inch of his brain. She will pay. All women will pay. He was a fool to give his heart. Never love a goddess.

Friday, June 04, 2010

New Textnovel Posts

Hey blogstalkers, check out my newest work over at Textnovel.com
It is called Tales of a Las Vegas Shopgirl. Follow the adventures of Dema Dawn, a less the perfect pin-up girl burning her youth in Vegas.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Freaking Sparkly Vampires

I will take flack for this. Don't Care. :D

I have never read Twilight. I have never seen the movies. Robert Patterson or what ever the crap his name is does nothing for me. I only think that Jacob kid is cute because I remember when he was Shark Boy. I want my vampires evil, wearing leather, and sometimes blond a.k.a Spike in Buffy.
It strikes me as odd, and kind of weirds me out really, when a woman my age - someone the shy side of 30 - goes all teeny bopper about Twilight.

Can someone please explain it to me??

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Blog Post for Lana Griffin...Romance in Hawaii

Aloha e komo mai. Let me first say Mahalo nui loa to the amazing Lana Griffin for having me here today.

As you know, I write paranormal romance. Wow, when you say it that way it sounds like I need an intervention. I set my books in Hawaii and use the Hawaiian panethoen for a very simple reason…I was bored with Vampires. (No offense Lana, DUSK rocks)

NOTE FROM LANA: I’ve loved the ocean since I was a little girl. But I’ve also loved vampires since I was a little girl. I can’t imagine growing bored with vampires any more than I can imagine growing bored with Hawaii. Though I understand your point, that paranormals in Hawaii certainly differ from typical vampire fare.

Like many paranormal romance lovers, I read Christine Feehan and Sherrilyn Kenyon. I devoured every book I could get until one scorchingly hot summer’s day---I live in Las Vegas, it’s like living on the sun--- when I was standing in Borders and looked up to see vampire romances as far as the eye can see, nothing but rows and rows of tortured vamps and the slayers who love them. I annoyed. I wanted something new. With some many amazing cultures in this world you'd think publishing would branch out. So I decided I would write my own. I had no idea what to write about until I took a trip with my family to the Big Island of Hawaii. There I found what I needed to kick start my true writing path. Two helpful items in particular come to mind, the beauty of our fiftieth state and Hawaiian Mythology by Martha Warren Beckwith. Beckwith’s book is the definitive collection of Hawaiian myth. For a long time it was the only written record of many of the tales of Pele, Lono, and the other gods. With good old Martha by my side and a view of the Pacific Ocean stretched out in front of me, the idea came for Kona Warrior and the two WIP sequels.

As I wrote about the ancient Hawaiian tradition, I came to respect Hawaii and it culture heritage more and more each day. A friend asked me if I was born in Hawaii. No I wasn’t but I think my soul was born in Kona. The terrifically talented A.J. Llewellyn, who also writes Hawaiian romance, referred to us as Pele people and I believe he is correct. That is one of the main reasons I lose my cool when I read something set in Hawaii that is inaccurate. One in particular made me toss the book across the room in anger, but I’m not naming names. When you write about an existing culture you must honor that world, not simply use them for cultural appropriation purposes.

Another addiction that feed my Hawaiian love is cheesy beach movies. Don’t act coy. You know which ones I mean, something from the late fifties or early sixties, featuring the curvaceous Annette Funicello and the manly Frankie Avalon in the throes of teenage hormones How about the ones with Elvis and his white swimsuit strumming a ukulele? When I pop Blue Hawaii or Paradise Hawaiian Style into the DVD player I am instantly taken back to the shores of my island home.

In my first novel, Kona Warrior, my hapless heroine Gloria is confronted with the most delicious Hawaiian hunk when Mano steps from the ocean into her arms. She doesn’t even mind that he occasionally turns into a shark. As a paranormal romance novelist I get to cruise around in the rich textured world of Hawaiian lore and write about sexy beach boys and girls. In my current Hawaiian paranormal WIP, Daughter of Fire, all American Jack O’Connor is discovering the mystique of a true island girl with a fiery lineage. Kalama Young is not your usual bikini clad goddess. She also happens to be the daughter of a goddess, Pele the Goddess of fire. Jack’s in trouble, but the good kind.

Is it any wonder I write beach romances set in Hawaii? The mystique of Polynesia and the hunky surf god has always been an attractor for me and my fevered imaginings. There is something so incredibly appealing about an exotic hero and I think a Polynesian warrior is as exotic as they get. A line I love from a cheesy ‘80’s film, spoken by Shelley Long in the character of a romance novelist no less, sums it up best for me. “If there is one thing women love more than muscles, it is brown muscles.” Give me a tall tanned delicious hero and I am set every time.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Reflections on a suit...and a table and a chairs

In Decemeber I went to Washington D.C. to visit my parents, who now live there. One cold Wednesday morningmy mother and I journeyed to the Museum of American History at the Smithsonian. I am an American History geek and she indulges my complusion.
The museum was filled to the brim with eager and not so eager goers. Groups of school aged children obviously forced to endure a day at the Smithsonian Mall intermingled with a myriad of Midwestern families and hard –core history buffs. I am one of the latter. I truly love history, especially American History.
The artifacts that line every conceivable space of the museum were plentiful and amazing. But something like nothing I have ever seen before stopped me in my tracks. I went no further and soaked in the beauty of it, much to the unhappiness of those others around me. I was rooted to my spot and they had to travel around me.
It was Lincoln’s suit. The actual suit he wore to the office, you know that Oval one, every day. It was a faded black, almost a rich brown under the muted lights of the display case. My first thought at seeing this item was, Lincoln was skinny. After that the overwhelming sense of history, of life confined in that glass case. The conversations this configuration of fabric and thread had been privy too was mind blowing. To everyone, including me, Lincoln was the Great Emancipator, the Father of the Civil War, one of the greatest president’s we have ever known as a people. But to me especially, he was something more
I am a Nevadan. Now I know what you’re thinking. What does that have to do with Lincoln? My states motto is Battle Born. You see, Nevada became a state October 31st, 1864. Lincoln was the president who gave my home a real American identity. Nevada was born in the heat of the Civil War, in the heat of battle, hence Battle Born. As I gazed on this suit, I couldn’t help but wonder was he wearing this when he gave Nevada Statehood? What went through his mind when he made Nevada more than a territory out west he would never lay eyes on? Home means Nevada, home means the hills. Home means the sage and the pine. All this from a lanky man in a faded black suit. Thanks Abe.
Next we turned a corner into The Price of Freedom, Americans at War exhibit. This exhibit traces America's mitilatry from the Revolutionary War to the present. Plainly put, it was amazing. George Washington's uniform to 'Stormin' Norman's battle fatigues. But to me there was nothing so beautiful and so moving as the chairs and table Lee and Grant sat at for the surrender at Appomattox Court House. Over this simple wooden tabletop the Union once again became whole, in a manner of speaking. I had to turn away from my mom, I didn't want her to see me tear up. I shouldn't have worried. She calmly said, "It's okay honey I understand. You look all you want." And I did just that.
Has something in history ever effected you that much? How and what was it?