Wednesday 25 September 2013

Lynda Bailey

Welcome, Lynda.
Thanks so much, Anna, for letting me hang out with you today!

I live in Reno, Nevada with my Prince Charming of 30 years. I’m a former stagehand, certified welder and fitness instructor. When not in my cave writing, I divide my time between digging in the dirt and walking the dogs.

A welder! Fantastic. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?
Actually I don’t think I’d choose to live anywhere but in Reno. I know it sounds corny, but I've got mountains, desert, the beautiful Lake Tahoe, all within an hour’s drive. And San Francisco is a mere four hours away as are the awesome wineries in Amador County, California. 

Sounds wonderful. How did you get started writing?
I suppose like most authors, writing has been a part of my world since I was a child. I've always loved making up stories, whether in my head or on paper. It such an added bonus to actually get paid for doing what I love!

I agree. Tell us about your current WIP.

My newest release, BATTLE-TESTED LOVE, is the second book in my *Battle for Love* series. It’s about a decent guy who does a bad thing for a good reason – and the adventure-seeking gal who gets caught up in the action.

I'm intrigued. What was the deciding factor in self-publishing your books?
I simply wanted them published. I’m not one to send out query after query, waiting for a traditional publisher to notice me. I’m just not that patient.  I’m more an instant gratification person, which meant overcoming my techno inadequacies and self-pubbing my books.

You sound like a gal after my own heart! What advice do you have for other authors wanting to self-publish?
Make sure the mechanics of your stories are the best they can be: the plot, the characters and their motivations, the conflict—everything. I’m extremely blessed to have several terrific critique partners as well as some great beta readers who don’t allow me to get away with shoddy work.

Can you list some Pros/Cons of self-publishing?
There are two major *cons* for me in self-publishing: techno problems with formatting and having to promote yourself. Fortunately, there are numerous Yahoo and Google author groups where information and expertise is freely shared. The biggest *pro* for me is having my books available to readers – right now.J

What is most difficult for you to write? Characters, conflict or emotions? Why?
My greatest issue is nailing down the characters’ motivations. If I get that wrong, I spin in circles worse that Roger Rabbit.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?
Total plotter.

What do you have planned for the future? How far do you plan ahead?
I've got a Christmas short story coming out in late November. It’s part of a new anthology of short stories titled *Holiday Hunks* which will center around the different holidays. In 2014, I plan to release the third novella in my *Heartache and Hopeful* series as well as the first story in my *Trustworthy Texas* trilogy. I like to have at least three releases per year.

Where can readers find you?
Readers can check out my website:;
Follow me on Twitter:
Or find me on Goodreads:

Where can readers find your books? Print/Ebook?
All my books are available at and most are for sale at Three of my books, BATTLE-BORN LOVE, WILDFLOWER and NAUGHTY NEIGHBORHOOD are also available in print through

Thanks again to Anna for hosting me today!
Thanks for sharing, Lynda.

Wednesday 18 September 2013

Little White Lies, by Jodie Esch

It's a great pleasure to welcome a fellow member of my RWA chapter, Jodie Esch.
Thanks, Anna. Good to be here.

My former career
In what seems like another lifetime, my days revolved around teaching. I worked in elementary schools, a middle school, a university and a community college. I moved into school administration in elementary schools but after twelve years, decided to experiment with something different. 

The power of words
Writing chose me. For the last decade I've written a number of novels trying to find my voice. Trying to find me. I tried romance, romantic suspense, women’s fiction and a middle-grade novel. I think I found what I was looking for in the Young Adult genre.

Teens can be theatrical, driven, obsessed, needy, mercurial, and sensitive. All of these qualities can pull a story forward. I've been able to reach back into my memory bank and retrieve characters and their problems and weave them into my fiction.

So, I created The Girlfriends Series –Best Friends Forever
The first book of the series is Little White Lies
The backstory to this novel
When I worked with teens in Grades 6, 7 and 8 a lot of truth-bending took place. Some young people were experts at lying. Lies simply fell out of their mouths without any problem especially when friendships fell apart. Trying to search for the truth was sometimes an exercise in frustration. So, the theme of lying was in my brain.

As well, the issue of internet predators was constantly in the news. Young girls were being lured into inappropriate relationships with men they met on-line. These two themes blended together and I ‘had’ the core of my book.
Little White Lies
Eighth grader Rachel Scott finally has the perfect boyfriend. He’s good looking, athletic and wealthy. The only problem is he doesn't actually exist. Rachel’s escape into her fantasy world worries her parents and they insist she meet with the school counselor.

Frustrated with her life and without her best friend’s approval, Rachel heads down a dangerous path, looking for love in all the wrong places.

The second book of the series is Little White Pills.
The backstory to this novel
I was fascinated by an article in a newspaper that outlined the ways that first year university students were able to access drugs. They didn't have to purchase anything illegally. All they had to do was comb through their parents’ medicine cabinets or borrow prescription pills from their friends. It was that easy.

Some students used pills to relax and some used pills to stay awake. Addiction arrived quickly for some users.

Another media focus was the constant pressure on high-school students to have academic success, involvement in extra-curricular activities and have their goals and career paths outlined in stone.

I mixed the two premises together and came up with my next novel –Little White Pills.
Tenth grader Steph Baxter has it all, perfect looks, perfect grades and a perfect life. She’s a model high-school student and a member of the cheer-leading squad. But in her quest for excellence she makes dangerous choices.

Soon her simple solution becomes a complex problem. Follow Steph and her best friend Rachel as they cope with Steph’s unexpected journey. Can Steph find support before it’s too late?

The next book in this series Little White Magic will launch at the beginning of October, 2013.
Rachel is sent to work in a summer camp in Vermont. Mix in a Tarot reader and a reclusive musician and strange events begin to unfold.

The Young Adult Genre
My readers are teens as well as adults. The genre appeals to a diverse readership. In order to stay current, I read a lot of Young adult novels which I've always enjoyed. My favourite authors at the moment are Sarah Dessen and John Green. It’s a fascinating genre. Give it a chance if you have the opportunity.

Self-Publishing & Traditional Publishing
There is room in this business for everyone no matter what route an author chooses. Whether I’m traditionally published or self-published, or a hybrid-author, (a combination of both), that is my personal journey. My goal is to present the best story that I can produce. I hope that you will enjoy my novels.

Thanks so much Anna for inviting me to your blog today. All the best in your future writing adventures.
Thank you, Jodie for your thoughts and insights.  Love your covers, by the way.

Wednesday 11 September 2013

E. Ayers and the Rejection Letter

   Hi, Anna, thanks for inviting me to be on your blog. Waving a big hello to all of Anna's friends. I love meeting new people so don't forget to leave a comment, because someone is going to win a free book if they do!
   Anna and I were talking about the road to publication and I think I got lucky, very lucky. I started this journey writing books for my children. Then I got serious and decided that I'd like to write for actual publication, even though it was a tough field that wasn't open to many authors. Seems the publishing industry thought if you were in a certain grade then you should be reading …and that didn't work for me, my children, or my grandchildren, but things have changed over the years and so did my writing.
   My dearest friend has a daughter, Marjorie, who is multi-published in romance. That daughter told me to write romances. I laughed at her. Then she told me a few things and I quit laughing. I sat at the computer and wrote my first romance over fifteen years ago. Except, it wasn't exactly a romance because it had very strong mainstream elements. I sent it to Marjorie who by this time was part owner of an epub. She wrote me back and told me it wasn't sexy enough. Well, needless to say, this kind of passing the manuscript back and forth went on for months. I found out about things like point of view. Oh my gosh! I had a crash course in writing, or at least, I thought I did, except I had barely scratched the surface.
   Then my friend's daughter suggested that I submit to the editor of her publishing company. I was concerned that my name might be too well known because of the closeness to Marjorie, so I submitted under a different name and held my breath. And held it, and held it. Then it came…THE REJECTION LETTER!
    By that time, I had joined a local RWA group, and had started taking several writing classes online. I knew about those horrible rejection letters. The ones that make people cry for weeks and tell them how English must not be their first language or worse, it's a form letter that says almost nothing other than no thanks. I had a real letter and it was nice!
   I picked up the phone, called across the USA to Marjorie, and asked if she told the editor who I was. Marjorie said no. She didn't even know I had received a letter. I read it to her. I had a three-page letter from the editor, Stephanie, telling me how wonderful my story was and with it, several suggestions to make it better.
   Now here comes the fun part. That small pub was going to be at a conference that was being held near me and I was slated to go to it, which meant meeting that editor. I was so excited. Marjorie even gave me the hotel room number. I wasn't going to stalk Stephanie to her room. But I did set up an appointment to meet with her.
   I promise the last thing an editor wants to do is meet with someone they just rejected. But when Stephanie realized I was not some crazed woman, and I only wanted to chat about her suggestions, she definitely chatted! She spent two hours with me explaining things. All these years later, I know that rejection was the best thing that could have happened to me. I don’t write erotic and I never will - it's not in me. That publisher is best known for its erotic romances. That's not where my stories belong. I write adult as opposed to children's stories, and I expect that my readers are mature enough to know that there's more than simple kissing in a loving relationship.
   Stephanie went one step further and personally introduced me to several well-known authors including Janet Lane Walters who co-wrote a book on writing. I got Janet's book and we stayed in touch. That's when I learned that it wasn't just a matter of telling a good story - I had to learn to craft it. Every time I learned something new, I went back and fixed that very first story.
When I was certain that it was the best possible story that I could write, I submitted it to a well-known agent whom I'd pitched at another conference. I held my breath…and held it…and held it. She sent me a brief letter about nine months later saying she had read the story, and it was under consideration. Okay, I was excited, but what exactly did under consideration mean? So I held my breath for another six months. In the meantime, every author I knew who had submitted to her had been rejected before that nine months had lapsed.
   Marjorie had told me to keep writing. Write the next book, so I did, and I wrote another. By that time, I had a New York Times best-selling author who was mentoring me. She kept saying that no news is good news, and that my work was worthy of being represented. Then it came. I ripped that envelope open and held that letter in my hands. My insides were quivering. I was afraid to look.
   Three times I read it. "I loved this story… I must be very selective…" She turned me down! Okay, I cried that time. I called my mentor and with tears blurring my vision, I read her the letter. How can someone praise my story and then turn it down?
   The answer was not that difficult to understand. At the time, there were big publishing houses and a few epubs. You had to fit into the big houses' little pigeonholes or they wouldn't accept it. I didn't fit. I also didn't fit with the epubs that tended to publish hotter stories. I kept writing. Then I got my lucky break and a contract. Except, I watched my story being changed in edits to match a more traditional romance. I didn't like what was happening to my story or my characters. It was not what I wanted. Instead of being happy, I had this horrible, suffocating, wet wool blanket of depression being heaped on me with each batch of edits.
   Break a contract? That was insane! But I did it. It was my name on the cover, and I wanted to be proud of what I had written. I had to stand up for myself and my characters.
   Then I sat on my derrière, watched, and waited for something wonderful to happen. It didn't happen to me, but I saw another author independently publish a book and then a bunch of books. They sold like crazy. She talked me through the steps. I published a novella and waited. I was told if I sold twenty-five books that first month, I would be very lucky. I sold one hundred. I published another novella, then I published that very first novel, Wanting.
   It was a long road to get where I am now and I learned a lot along the way. Wanting was the first in my River City novels about young urbanites who are trying to make their world a little better. Think mid-sized city tucked in the middle Atlantic states of the USA. It's totally fictional but very similar to several such cities. I followed the novel Wanting with A New Beginning, then A Challenge, Forever, A Son, and A Child's Heart. And there are more coming! They don't need to be read in order. The glue that holds them together is the city.
   They all have those heavy mainstream elements, but they also have the happily ever after of a romance. Just as people in real life have plenty of problems, so do my River City characters. A Son deals with prejudice. Some folks believe it doesn't exist, but it still does. Lucky are those who never feel it. Most of my novels tackle some gritty subjects from sexual abuse to trying to mesh different lives on different schedules into a cohesive relationship. People have complicated lives, they have jobs, they have skeletons in their closets, and falling in love is never easy. Well, maybe the falling is but fitting it into a life isn't. And people aren't perfect. I do not write normal romances. It's called slice-of-life writing and I write the romantic slice. That means all the other stuff in life comes with it.
   I love writing the River City novels. My latest one, A Child's Heart, wasn't always easy to write. There was so much going on and so many conflicting emotions. When I'm writing, these characters are alive within me, and what happens to them affects me as the author. I become the means for them to tell their story. They drive me. And these two drove me crazy!

    Trent was a young widower. With his mom's guidance, he grew into a wonderful father. And Cassie…Well, Cassie is Cassie, and she's older than Trent. She has this tremendous passion for history and she loves her job as River City's museum curator. On the outside, she looks sweet and conservative, but inside, she's got a wild streak. And she's being harassed by the city manager. She also understands the relationship between Trent and his mom. She's a PhD from a wealthy Boston family, and he's blue collar from the low end of middle class in River City. Just be prepared for a roller coaster ride as Trent and Cassie figure out that they have a relationship worthy of a lifetime commitment, while Shawn's life dangles precariously as he awaits heart surgery.

Excerpt? You want an excerpt? Okay. How about that first kiss? I love first kisses. Who doesn't?

Cassie pulled in front of a small home that looked exactly like every other house in the working class neighborhood. Tiny, cookie-cutter houses sat on postage-sized lots. The Callahan home was painted a pale yellow with dark gray shutters and trim. The grass was recently cut, and a few petunias were planted around the base of the lamppost. She parked her car and drew in a deep breath as she gathered up the two books.
“Hi,” she said when Trent opened the door. “I brought something for Shawn.”
“Come on in. He’s not here right now. My mom took him shopping for some slippers and a robe. He’s going to need them for the hospital. They say he’ll be there for a while.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have called first. Tate gave me your address, and I thought I’d stop on the way home, since you weren't very far out of the way.”
“You live in the area?”
“Not really. I have an apartment in Sweet Grandview.”
“This is not exactly on your way home from the museum.”
“It’s not, but it’s not that far, either.” She forced another smile.
He glanced at his watch. “They should be home soon. Would you like a glass of iced tea?”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” She gazed at Trent standing there in his work uniform, his name written in an oval under the embroidered company name. “What exactly does River City Manufacturing manufacture?”
“Countertops. We measure, custom cut, and install counters for both commercial and home use.”
“Oh. What do you do?”
“Everything. Mostly, I handle the computer and oversee the shop. It’s a rather involved process. The measurements are dropped into the computer, which then runs the saws that cut the counters.”
She followed him through the tiny house to the modern kitchen. “Cute kitchen.”
“Thanks. My mom loves it. I tore out what existed a few years ago. I made the cabinets from scratch and the countertops are leftovers from a large job the company did awhile back.”
He nodded, opened a cabinet, and withdrew two glasses. “I've got a small woodshop in the backyard.”
“I’m impressed. You do beautiful work.”
“Thanks.” He handed her a glass of iced tea.
She put the two books on the counter and accepted the glass. Her fingers touched his, sending a spark though her body. Gazing into his eyes, she smiled. A golden blonde lock fell across his forehead, and she noticed slight dimples when he returned the smile.
Broad shoulders filled his shirt, and golden hair covered his forearms. Desire filled her as she stared at the man with gray-blue eyes.
He returned the stare and she found herself lured to him. Golden-brown eyelashes framed his penetrating gaze. Taking a sip of the sweet liquid only enhanced the burning inside her. His fingers wrapped around the glass and removed it from her clutch as his mouth covered hers.
Sweet, probing kisses caused her to close her eyes, as she was drawn to him by the magnificent sensation that streamed through her body. Her hands found his shoulders, as his arms locked her into his embrace. Her hips swayed against the soft bulge in his pants. His hand on the small of her back pulled her tight to him. The room vanished. All that was left, were two bodies pressed together.
His tongue danced with hers as her pelvis rode his hardening length. Her breasts burned. She clawed at the fabric covering his shoulders. It was primal and she lost herself in the ancient ritual. Heat flowed through her until it peaked, causing a groan to escape her throat. Her lips unlocked from his, and she buried her face into his chest. The course material was permeated with the pungent smell of perspiration and oil. Inhaling deeply, it was nauseating, exciting, and very masculine. Reality hit, sending a jolt through her system. She let go of him and turned away. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just did that.”
His hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back to him. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but it was terrific." His breath flowed over her face as he spoke. "I should be apologizing to you. I've never spontaneously kissed someone before.” His voice was deep and raspy. “I've heard it said that you can tell a lot from a first kiss, and that was one hell of a first kiss.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? It was awesome.” He pulled her tight to his body.
Her gaze locked with his as his lips once again touched hers. Her knees weakened and her body trembled. Wanting to flee, she found herself riveted in place. His tongue found hers. Heat coursed through her as the room began to swim. A gray cloud enveloped her until there was nothing.
“Hi, welcome back. Feeling any better?” Trent asked.
Cassie looked up at the man kneeling beside her. “What happened?”
“You fainted. I was about to call 9-1-1. You've been out for a few minutes.” She started to sit up, but he gently pushed her back down. “You’re not going anywhere. Take a couple of deep breaths.”
“I’m fine.”
He ran a finger across her cheek as he stared into her crystal blue pools. “You remind me of a china doll, perfectly beautiful.”
“Please, let me get up.”
“Slowly.” He offered her his hand.
Making her sit at the kitchen table, he brought her the glass of iced tea and then pulled out a chair across from her. As he sat, a grin split his face and erupted into a chuckle. “I've kissed many a woman in my life, but I've never had that effect on one.”
“I’m sorry, I have no idea what came over me.”
“There you go apologizing again for something that requires none.”
“I've never been that lost in a kiss, and I've never fainted before in my life. No, that’s not right, I fainted one time after I gave blood when I was still in college.”
“Gave blood on an empty stomach?”
“Bet you've got a empty stomach now.”
She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “Maybe. I ate a banana at some point today.”
“That’s it?”
“Ah, I think so. I skipped breakfast and drank a pot of coffee at work.”
“You’re not leaving here until you've eaten something nutritious and filling.” He opened the refrigerator, put a generous helping of pot roast in a bowl, and stuck it in the microwave. When the microwave beeped, he handed her the bowl and a fork. “I’ll be right back.”
Her taste buds savored the delicious beef and potatoes. She devoured it with lightning speed. It had been years since she had a home-cooked meal. Memories of her family flooded her mind: the beautiful, old, stone house on the outskirts of Boston, her mom and dad, Emily Zoot making dinner for the family, and several noisy brothers teasing her. Now she was sitting in Trent’s tiny kitchen, scraping the bowl with her fork to get every precious drop of gravy.
“Looks like you’re ready for a piece of apple pie.”
“It was delicious, but I’m not sure I have room for pie.” She gazed at Trent, now freshly showered and wearing a tee shirt and jeans. Her heart sighed.
“Make room.”
Her heart had plenty of room for him, but she wasn't sure her stomach could handle more.

My heart goes out to any parent with a child who is fighting for a chance at life. And if you know someone with that child, do whatever you can to help that family. Even something as simple as mowing their yard gives them an extra hour to spend with the child. A new book, toy, or a puzzle will brighten a child's day. They don't need to know who did it, but you'll know you did something special for someone.

What's coming next? I have three historical westerns all set to release between October and December. Writing historical westerns is a new genre for me. The last one to be released will be the diary of Clare Coleman, which was mentioned in A Snowy Christmas in Wyoming. And with a little luck, I should have the next River City novel out before Spring 2014. Yes, I've been very busy. But I love writing. It is my job.

Don't forget to leave a comment, then drop me an email at and say you've commented. I'll be giving away a few copies of A Child's Heart to some lucky people.

About the Author
Born and raised with wealth, E. Ayers turned her back on all of it and married her prince charming a few days after her eighteenth birthday. Her family disowned her, and her friends were shocked. A firm believer in love conquering everything, she never looked back. The love she and her husband shared became the springboard for her novels. Fascinated with the way people deal with everyday problems, E Ayers has always been an observer and a listener. A simple problem for one person is a mountain for another. She utilizes those common predicaments which is why her books touch so many lives. Today, she spends most of her free time writing while living in a pre-Civil War home with her two dogs and a cat. Rattling around in an old money pit gives her muse plenty of freedom. Her idea of a perfect day is to spend it at the keyboard of her computer, coffee in hand, and everything in the house actually working as it should. She's the official matchmaker for all the characters who wander through her brain, and she likes finding just the right ones to create a story.

Wednesday 4 September 2013

Dawn Marie Hamilton: Just Once in a Verra Blue Moon

Please welcome Dawn Marie Hamilton as my guest today. She's giving away a free copy of her book. Details at the end of the post.
Thanks, Anna. Good to be here.
Burly men in kilts with big swords make me swoon. So, of course, I write about them. But how does an author that grew up in New Jersey know enough about Scottish Highland weapons to write a fight scene or two or three?

Fight scenes that use claymores. Claymores are large two-handed swords that classically weigh about five to six pounds with downward sloping guards (crosspiece). The blade is usually as long as a broadsword and the hilt long enough for a two handed grip.

First, she watches movies with sword fight scenes over and over. Not a bad way to spend time. If she’s lucky, she finds good research material. One such book is The Cutting Edge, A Practical Guide to the Use of Scottish Highland Weapons by Larry L. Andrews.

If she’s lucky, she has a critique partner who’s interested in martial arts and swung a sword or two himself. And if she’s even luckier, she gets in contact with the author of said research material above and grills him. Thanks, Larry!

Mr. Andrews’s book describes the use of the broadsword and targe, the claymore, the Lochaber axe and the dirk. Makes a girl who’s always liked pointy objects heart go all a flutter.

What about women with swords? There is a saying around our house: Watch out for the Scottish woman holding a knife. What? I like to cook.

Blurb for Just Once in a Verra Blue Moon:
What happens when a twenty-first century business executive is expected to fulfill a prophecy given at the birth of a sixteenth-century seer? Of course, he must raise his sword in her defense.

Believing women only want him for his wealth, Finn MacIntyre doesn't trust any woman to love him. When, during Scottish Highland games, faerie magic sends him back in time to avenge the brutal abduction of his time-traveling cousin, he learns he's the subject of a fae prophecy.

Elspeth MacLachlan, the beloved clan seer, is betrothed to a man she dislikes and dreams of the man prophesized at her birth, only to find him in the most unexpected place—face down in the mud.

With the help of fae allies, they must overcome the treachery set to destroy them to claim a love that transcends time.


Finn gripped the rowan staff in one hand and leaned against the castle’s outer wall, trying to catch his breath. The short trip from the garden left him weak. If his stamina didn’t return soon, he’d go crazy. He needed to be healthy and strong so he could go after Maclay. Then he must travel home before he did something rash concerning Elspeth.

He stopped again at the castle gate and gulped air to remain standing.

Motion on the bay caught his attention. Men rowed toward the castle in several small boats of the type made from skins and wicker, the kind Highlanders called currachs. When the crafts beached, he recognized Donald MacLachlan as the man jumped from one, strode across the pebbly beach and headed toward him.

Suddenly a weight slammed against Finn, knocking the hard-won air from his lungs. His walking stick flew from his hand as he fell to the ground. Pain shot from his thigh, to his groin, to his chest. Gasping for breath, he found Elspeth’s soft body entangled with his.

Her lush curves wrapped around him, filling his senses with all that was missing from his dreams. The scents of sunshine and roses intoxicated him. His hard-on was instantaneous.

Shit! He attempted to detangle their limbs and set her away from his ill-timed erection, but her body melded with his. She felt so right in his arms. He was tempted to hold onto her and never let her go.

Elspeth caught her breath. Everywhere Finn touched her as they tried to break apart, her skin tingled. When their gazes met, everything else faded away. The world reduced to only the two of them, and his mouth dipped toward hers.

His lips grazed hers and fire blazed through Elspeth to her toes, the moment lasting an eternity. Finn’s tongue pushed between her lips, seeking entrance. Her mind reeled. With little thought, she wrapped her arms around his waist and twirled her tongue around his. Passion. Unlike the minimal pecks she’d received from Alexander, Finn’s fierce kiss conquered, possessed.

She wanted more.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the spell, and Finn’s sinful mouth pulled away, leaving behind a fracture in the foundation of Elspeth’s expectations for the future.

How could she go on as before?

“Let me help you.”

She gazed up through the haze of awakened sensation. Uncle Donald stared at her, a sly gleam in his eyes. He reached a hand down and helped her rise before assisting Finn. Unstable on his feet, Finn leaned on her while her uncle retrieved the walking stick.

She swayed—not from the burden of Finn’s weight, but the desire awakened by their kiss.
Just Once in a Verra Blue Moon is available for:

Dawn Marie Hamilton dares you to dream. She is a 2013 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist who pens Scottish-inspired fantasy and paranormal romance. Some of her tales are rife with mischief-making faeries, brownies, and other fae creatures. More tormented souls—shape shifters, vampires, and maybe a zombie or two—stalk across the pages of other stories. She is a member of The Golden Network, Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal, Celtic Hearts, and From the Heart chapters of RWA. When not writing, she’s cooking, gardening, or paddling the local creeks with her husband.
Amazon author page:

Giveaway: Dawn Marie will gift a Kindle edition of Just Once in a Verra Blue Moon to a lucky commenter who answers the question: If you could use a bit of faerie magic to travel through time where would you go? Be sure to include your email addy. Feeling shy? Email Dawn Marie at Dawn at DawnMarieHamilton dot com. A name will be pulled out of the garden hat on Monday, September 9.