Saturday, August 06, 2011

New Cover!!

THE HOODED MAN RISES!!

Friday, August 05, 2011

The Hooded Man Rises!

Great news, maninis, THE HOODED MAN has been acquired by Decandent Publishing. I have received the cover and it is beyond beautiful. I will post it as soon as I am giving the green light. I will be on and off with more details as they arise.
I am so excited.
This book has been my baby for many years. Robin Hood is and always has been an obsession of mine and to have my re-telling, and it really is a new twist on the tale..thank you very much Mr. Ridley Scott, step off and let me show you how it's done, being finally published is more then I can stand.
I am over the moon.

I think I love writing dirty stories. :P

Saturday, July 09, 2011

New blog

Hi all. I've started another blog where we will be having a history party. If you want to learn about some fun and dirty stories about American history please feel fre to check it out.
Www.historysmistress.blogspot.com

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Daughter of Fire

So I am pleased to announce that "Daughter of Fire", the second in my Hawaiian Paranormal series has been chosen as an editor's choice at Textnovel.com...after only being on the site for 2 days.

More and more evidence that people DO want to read Hawaiian Paranormal.

I'm starting to feel confident about the path of my writing.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Name change

I have changed the name of Curse of the Goddess to Drums of the Island. I am also saying a big resounding Fuck You to the person who told me that " no one wants to read Hawaiian Paranormal romance because that can't pronounce that names." I know Hawaii. So I am going to go back to writing about it.
Watch out Carina Press, I am sending you Daughter of Fire and you better not piss off Pele.

Drums of the islands you're beating in my heart
You're with me no matter where I roam
If ever I wander if ever we're apart
I know that you will lead me home

If I should journey across the deep blue sea
I'll never forget these coral shores
Drums of the islands I hear you calling me
And I'll return forever yours

I love each valley each grain of sand each hill
The flowers the music of the isles
These are the things I love and always will
Though I may roam ten thousand miles

Friday, April 01, 2011

9 Days Paradise - Chapter 4

Seated in the restaurant, flowers in my hair, surrounding me with their decadent aroma like a veil of the most expensive perfume I wait. The drink sits on the table in front of me, the obligatory frou-frou tropical confection containing an umbrella and a slice of pineapple. Waiting. I am early by as much as fifteen minutes. The open air seaside restaurant had sand for a floor. I kick off my shoes and curl my toes in it in a concerted effort to calm my racing blood. This is where he asked me to meet him. Would he look the same? How would the years have altered him? They had most certainly altered me. My waist, once flat and girlish, now carried fifteen extra pounds and was rounded in a truly womanly fashion. My hair, still black and long enough to sit on, was subtly shot with grey. Would he notice? Would he care? Waiting. 

Thursday, March 31, 2011

9 Days Paradise - Third Chapter

He was surfing, a glistening streak of bronzed sinew cutting through the crystalline white and blue. I stood rooted to the sand, toes curled in the hot grains watching him slice the sea. At the tender age of 18 my mouth hung open in a gauche display of gangly teenaged lust. I barely felt my friend's bony elbow dig into my side as we both watched him step from the surf like some kind of ancient god come to life. 
He flashed us a brilliant smile laced with mischief and candor before coming to stop in front of us. Dropping his purple surfboard at our feet he laughed and struck up a conversation. I no longer remember what we talked about or for how long but I remember every line of his face. Every curve and twist of his body. Every strand of hair of his head. 
He spent the day with us showing us the sights and sounds and smells of his home, his Kona-town. And when my friend slipped into our hotel room in the early evening cursed with a sunburn in need of aloe, I spent the evening with him. Dinner and a walk on the sand under a full luxiourus moon blessed me for the next 15 years of solitude. 

Monday, March 28, 2011

9 Days Paradise - Second Chapter

There's ocean beneath me now. I'm flying in the great metal bird toward the brithplace of a king. It's a fathomless blue at this height, a dark royal blue kissed while white as the breakers crest out in the sea. There is a whale breaching just below us, says the happy voice of the captain from the PA system.
There is no one sitting next to me, so I lean over to to see if I can catch a glimpse of the leviathan below. I can't.
I'm alone with my thoughts for this short jaunt to Kona. Only 55 minutes trapped inside the steel hull of the plane.
Will he be there waiting for me at the airport? Once I had gained control of my pounding heart and racing blood, I responded to the soul changing email. I raided a box buried in the closet. Buried under the past, buried under everything I am trying to forget. Until I found it. His smiling white teeth flashing against bronzed skin.
I responded.
Two simple words.
I'm coming.

9 Days Paradise - First Chapter

This story will be written over the course of ten days utilizing only the notes function on the Ipod or Iphone. This will be presented warts and all.
It is also available on Textnovel

The sun hasn't risen yet by the time I land in Honolulu. Walking in the dark between terminals, my bag heavy on my shoulder despite being almost empty, I look at the sky. It's that early morning pink, the same color of the underside belly of a freshly skinned salmon. In a few hours I'll be on kona. I have no idea what I'm doing, dressed in a cheap box store tee- shirt, oversized faded jeans and flip flops in Hawaii.
I'd been to the islands once before when I was 18. Firmly on the cusp of childhood and adult life, the wispy summer before high school grads make that all important jump to college, the islands had pulled me in for a jaunt that lasted a month. I'd boarded the plane bound for home back then without a backwards glance and set my life on the path I'd been treading ever since.
Hawaii never crossed my mind again in those 15 years...until a week ago.
The email was simple. Two words from an unknown address. Something burst in my head, a flash of intense longing and pain I'd thought I was having an anuyerisum.
I shot away from the computer, fear making my hands shake. It couldn't have been from him. It's been too long. He no longer kept me up at night with the constant replayed of shared memories. Until now. Two simple works sent me packing instantly.
Come Home

Thursday, March 10, 2011

The journey continues...

I have found the path once more.
There was a time when it diverged away from me,
I let myself be swept away from the true calling.

I am writing plays again. I am writing again. For a while there I was gripped with an all consuming writer's block and I couldn't write word. The floodgates have opened and I am once again gripped by my muse. I want to write everything and anything. I feel all powerful in my prose once again. My art is breathing and screaming inside of me. It is an amazing feeling to have.
There is a sense of loss when you as a writer, as an artist, are in the deathly clutches of writer's block. There are phantom pains in your hands and fingers, those appendages that help us express the very thoughts locked in our heads and souls. Your head hurts as if your brain is in a vice that is constantly being tightened. As long as you are under the evil spell, you forgot who you truly are.

I am a writer. I write. It is something I need to do. It is as essential to me as oxygen or water. If I could never write again I would shrivel and wither like a dried grape on the vine passed over by the vintner.

Back to work I go...my play is calling me to finish. After that I will treat myself to sleep.

I love being an artist.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

I want to be an ostrich

I wish I was the kind of person who could stick their head in the sand and not care about anything beyond their sphere of existence.
I am an activist. I donate my time and money to making this world a better place. When a crisis happens I think of same way I help. Many times I feel as if I am not doing enough. Sometimes I wish I could be like people I know where the world's struggles don't bother them. The earthquake in Haiti was deemed, "Oh that's sad" and the BP disaster "Guess that means we don't get fresh fish this year" A massive earthquake in New Zealand leaves them asking me...Where is New Zealand? Half the time these people have no idea what is going outside American Idol and Keeping up the Kardasians.
The kind of person who has no idea what Prop 8 is why I fight it with every fiber of my being.
There are some many things out there that escape those people's notice.
It would be some much easier to live my life like that. My head stuck deep in the desert sand, my world only encompassing me. But I'm not like that. I simply can't look away when people need help. I have been blessed with an amazing family, wonderful caring friends, and good life. I need to give back.
I am an activist. I am an American. I am a human being.

If you want to help me help others here are a few organizations I support:
http://jphro.org/
http://www.noh8campaign.com/
http://www.theshadetree.org/

Monday, February 28, 2011

I've Received the Stylish Blogger Award

WooHoo!! I so totally rock, squirt!!

Now I have to tell you internet weirdos seven things about me...here goes...

1. My favorite movie of all time is Moonstruck. I've been known to quote it ad nausem.

2. I have an addiction to Bollywood movies...an unhealthy addiction. Just saying.

3. I have a five octave range and use to be able to shatter glass with my opera voice. (Out of practice now)

4. I had a huge poster of Michael Keaton as Batman on my wall until I was about 14 when a shirtless Jordan Knight took over.

5. I want to live in the Hollywood Hills and write screenplays for the rest of my life. At some point in time I want to hear the words..."Seege Sheets beat Aaron Sorkin at the Oscars?!?!" hopefully with crying and wailing. It will rock.

6. I'm really short so I always wear really high heels whenever I go out. It's the old bait and switch with my feet.

7. I am a huge advocate for Gay Rights in my hometown. I'm straight but not narrow minded.

Thanks to The Laundry Hag herself the amazing Jennifer Hart for the award! Now, to pay it forward!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Hawaii's Last Queen


As many of you know, I have been studying Hawaiian history for several years now. Most especially the history and life of the last queen of Hawaii, Liliuokalani.

When I first visited Hawaii almost ten years ago, I knew nothing of this woman and her amazing story. I only know what every mainland child knew of Hawaii. Hawaii is a chain of islands, they have the most active volcano, and there was this king called Kamehameha. There is so much more to Hawaiian history. My interest and connection to Hawaiian history changed quickly one sunny day.

I was strolling down a side street running in front of my parent's condo( my parents live in Hawaii and I am blessed to be able to visit them and the islands that have stolen a piece of my soul) and the Royal Kona Resort. I was heading up to the bay to sit on the seawall and watch the surf.

When you pass the Royal Kona, you see large portraits hanging on the walls outside near the lobby. These are portraits, copies of course, of the royal family. There is Kamehameha the great, the chief that united all the islands to become King. There is Kamamalu his favorite wife and many more. The final picture is Queen Liliuokalani, most likely in her early thirties when she was still a princess. A face strong and commanding with eyes so dark and intriguing I was gripped with the desire to ask the painting questions, as if she was real. Who was she? What had she done? Why was she on this wall?

I promptly bought a book called, The Betrayal of Liliuokalani, at the ABC store I passed on my way to the pier.

In the years that came after that day, I became more and more obsessed with Liliuokalani and her life. I felt the overwhelming need to write a screenplay about her life and times. I brainstormed and researched until I was blue. Yet I didn't write anything.

Until now.

The other night I was attending a birthday celebration for one of my closets and dearest friends. I got to talking with another friend and his wife. They write screenplays with another couple and they had asked what I was working on now. I mentioned how I wanted to write about Liliuokalani. We chatted about her life and I told them what I had learned. "What a great movie that would make! I never knew any of that." With that statement I realized it was time to sit down and write her story. Give her highness a chance to tell her story and let the world know what an amazing person she was.

I now realize I don't have to be afraid to write this screenplay. I have it in me.
For some reason, the queen has chosen me - a mainland haole - to write her story. And I feel she is standing beside me on this journey, guiding my hands as I type.

Mahalo nui loa, Liliuokalani - ali'i nui of my heart.
Aloha!

Listening to : Nathan Aweau - a Place called Hawaii
Watching: Hawaii Five-O
Reading: Kalakaua Renaissance King.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Shut up voice or I will poke you with a Q-tip

I have too many stories rolling around in my head. I am going insane because of it. Sitting at my computer to work is a difficult task right now because I’m not sure what to work on.
I have a running list of brainstorm ideas that is roughly three pages long. Anyone else have this issue?
If I was as prolific as my friend Saranna DeWylde, the Amazon goddess of doom, I most likely wouldn’t even think this was an issue. She can write 20K in a day. I can do about four when I have the time.
The Gods aren’t done. Pele isn’t done. Sam’s story is in pieces. I have six shorts started.
I’m a bad writer and planner.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Desert Living and Cactus love

It is no secret that I love my hometown of Las Vegas. I was not born here but spent most of my life here. I was a mere babe of ten we when first pulled up stakes and claimed Lost Wages as our new home.

I love living in the West, in the wide open spaces. That said, I think I could happily live anywhere. The skyscrapered skyline of NYC, the close cosy comfort of D.C., or the open plains of Kansas. But if I have to choose it is Vegas all the way.

All that Vegas love-in mush above leads into the idea I have for a new book. Cowboys and the NFR and country music. All this I love as much as I love the desert. As many of you know the NFR, or National Finals Rodeo is held in Las Vegas every winter. That means my little slice of heaven on Earth of a hometown is inundated with Wrangler butts and Stetsons. What more could a red-blooded American girl ask for? The situation makes for a great romance novel...I hope.

For the Blaze endeavor I also have a Secret Service book planned....but that's for another blog, as well as the Civil War Romance.

I have goals this years, ones I fully intended to actually accomplish. One of which is to sell a book to Harlequin for their Blaze line by the end of the year. I have decided to be proud and out loud about the fact that I write Romance. It is nothing to be ashamed of. And frankly, as your friend, If I tell you I write romance and you laugh, no matter how non-judgmental you mean it, my feelings will get hurt. So, just a word of warning, don't be a douche when asking me about my writing. Jane Austen wrote Romance. Charles Dickens wrote Romance in a way. Shakespeare wrote Romance. Do you laugh at them? Didn't think so.

I've been posting back on textnovel.com again. I need to get my work out there and I need to write daily. Being on textnovel helps force me to do that.

Well off for now my minions. I have tons to do today and not a plethora of time to accomplish it in. See you tomorrow!

Current tune-age: Arlington by Trace Atkins
Current book: Wild Rose: The True Story of Civil War Spy by Ann Blackman