Balancing Act

It's hard to be an aspiring author. With our families, jobs, and obligations cutting into our time to do what we would rather be doing, what we were meant to do, life can sometimes make us unmotivated. Yet here we are, writing when we should be sleeping, reading when we should be working, and editing when we should be spending time with our loved ones.

So why do we do it? For me it's because I can't see my life in any other light. I was born with a mind that creates stories out of everyday life. I was gifted with an ability to put ideas onto paper. I was chosen to create art out of words instead of paint and canvas. I am an author; by ability as much as passion, and it is my greatest pleasure to know that somewhere someone out there is reading my stories and enjoying them.

Welcome 2014! This year I'm going to own you!!!

For my first post to my new blog - I am going to declare my resolutions for this new year.  I have two simple goals.
1. Write at least 10,000 words every week in order to publish at least 6 books this year.
2. Drink only water 6 out of the 7 days of the week. I will allow myself one day in which I can drink all of the tea and soda I want, but the rest of the time I will limit myself to water :)

Seems simple enough, right? Well I am going to use this blog as a journal of sorts to chronicle all of writing achievements. I also plan on featuring some of the amazing authors, cover artists, and bloggers that I have met along the way. Hopefully we can all encourage and motivate one another to achieve the goals in our hearts. I will also periodically be posting giveaways, sneak peeks at my works in progress, and practicing with my own photo manipulations.

It's going to be a big year. I hope that you all enjoy my posts and that we can continue to inspire the growth of Indie Authors!

And now... an excerpt from The Goblin's Daughter - the 3rd installment in The Enchanted Island Series. Enjoy and be on the lookout for its release in the next few months!

I’m not sure exactly when I fell asleep, but I knew when I was dreaming.  It was one of those dreams where even though I knew it was a dream, it seemed so real.  Real enough that I could smell the salt water in the air and feel the crisp wind on my cheeks.

                It was night time and I was walking along the beach.  My dress was old fashioned and I was wearing a long cloak to keep the cold at bay.  There was no one around, but I knew instinctively that I was going to meet someone.  He was expecting me.

                Further down the beach, I could just make out the glow of a fire.  That didn’t scare me.  I knew that it was him and I almost ran through the sand, the anticipation of seeing him was sweet, but almost too much to bare.  My pace remained steady.  My heart was thumping in my chest and there was a delicious feeling of doing something that was forbidden.

                Finally I walked around a small mound of sand, and he was there… waiting for me.

                “You look beautiful,” he told me, his grey eyes eerily reflecting the fire.

                “I have missed you.”

                I walked closer to him and pressed my body against his.  His face moved toward mine until our lips met and mine parted in response to him.  His chest was bare and his skin was hot, fiercely so, and it burned through the thick fabric of my cloak. 

                When he pulled away from me, I was surprised to see more cloaked figures around us.  “What is this?”  I asked him, panicking.

                He threw back his head and laughed.  “They have come for me.”

                Tears welled in my eyes, “no, that can’t be.”

                He spun me around so that my back was to his chest and made me face those who had come for his destruction.  “Let them kill me,” he whispered in my ear, “let them believe that they have… and then heal me and we will rule this world together.”

                He pushed me away from him so hard, that I fell to my knees in the sand.  The cloaked figures lunged at him, and soon they devoured him, leaving him in a bloodied heap at the base of the fire.  They didn’t even look at me as they left, one by one walking back down the beach. 

                “NO!” I screamed.

                I ran to his broken and bruised body and placed my hands on his face.  It was still warm to the touch, but his breathing was almost non-existent.  He was dying.  Tears streamed down my face, landing on his and mixing with the blood there.  It had been a witch hunt, only they had attacked the wrong person.  I was the witch they should have been after.

                Closing my eyes, I let the tingling power work its way through my body until I felt its warmth seeping through my fingertips.  I murmured words under my breath, ancient words, nonsense words… but it worked.  Color began blossoming in his cheeks again, wounds began closing up, bruises were disappearing, and finally his chest began to rise and fall in an even rhythm. 

                Exhausted, I lay across his chest, my own breathing ragged from the exertion of my power and closed my eyes.  We lay there like that for an eternity.  I was aware of neither of our surroundings nor the time we spent just lying there.  All that mattered to me was that at least for the moment, he was safe.

                All of a sudden he woke and pushed me off of him.  I rolled onto the soft sand with a thud and watched as he sprung up and lifted his arms to the sky.  “I have risen again,” he shouted.

                I frowned and tried to sit up, but he pounced on me, knocking me backwards while he straddled me.  “What are you doing?” I asked him, frightened.

                He laughed, throwing his head back as he did so.  “You are nothing to me.  I cannot continue living with this same face,” he gestured first to his face and then to mine, “I need use of yours.”

                All sensation left my body.  As he hovered above me, chanting under his breath, he began to change.  First his hair grew longer and lighter, his eyes went from gray to greenish, and his masculine body became feminine.  Soon I was looking up into my own face as if I was looking in a mirror.  Only the eyes were different.  They may have the same shape and color of mine, but the feelings and emotions in their depths fell flat and empty.

                He stood and for a moment I thought he would take pity on me, spare me from any more surprises.  I was wrong.  Without even a moment of hesitation, he lifted my stiffly paralyzed body and threw me through the air until with a crunching thud, I landed in the center of the fire.

                I screamed as the flames licked my body, and watched in horror as he laughed, taunting me from his safety.  With my last breaths being choked from my body, mixed with acrid smoke, I watched as the man I had loved turned and walked away.  His disguise was flawless.  He was me and I was done.

                A lone cloaked figure stood off in the distance.  Although he was far away, I could see every detail of his face while he watched in sadness while I burned.  Tears glistened in his crystal blue eyes, a lock of yellow blond hair fell across his forehead, and normally golden skin was bleached white while he watched in horrific silence.

                In one last feeble attempt to redeem myself, I reached forward toward him, my outstretched arm was charred and disfigured, but I didn’t care.  I had to reach him, I had to make him understand my choices… but with one small shake of his head, he turned, leaving me there to die alone.