Month: October 2017

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is nearly upon us, and here’s the deal. I have (almost) finished the two books that are important to keep on deadlines, and I am a free girl. Usually I have a strong idea about which story I am going to write for NaNoWriMo, but with my mind having been on Kill the Dawn and Crowning Heaven for so long, it simply hasn’t had the time to get expectations.

So I need your help: I need you to choose me my NaNoWriMo novel. I’ve made it nice and easy. Six stories to pick from. *wink*

Please go vote and then comment below with what you chose!

Have you ever done NaNoWriMo? If you are participating, what is your project?

Claim the Sky//spec-fic//

Then claim the sky if you can, for you cannot quench the spark of freedom from among us.

Fourteen-year-old Emilia Baron has been looking forward to one thing her entire life: a position in the elite circle of Patrons and Patronesses, who sponsor racing teams. The riders and their horses are objects of obsession, discussed incessantly in the rich circles, and she loves the sport with a passion.

But when whispers of assassinations and rebellion against the upper class arise, the riders—low-born with high-class access—fall under suspicion as spies. Her happy, comfortable world is upended as riders and patrons alike choose sides, friends turn against friends, and one of her favorite riders is discovered in the act of espionage. With her upbringing telling her one thing and her love for the sport and its people another, Emilia must choose where she truly stands.

The Train to Belkuah//spec-fic//

First, fresh baked bread. Then let’s turn the world upside down.

When Zebedee Delray is abducted from his train car on the way to Cambridge, he thinks it is a terrible mistake, no more. Laid up with a broken arm, he is forced to stay in Wales at the home of his rescuer, an Indian baker who holds an odd sway over four young men who hang around the bakery too much to be a coincidence.

When he realizes that his cloudy memories of his abduction don’t match anything in this world, things get strange. But they swiftly turn dangerous when he realizes he is being followed, and that the bakery is a disguise for something much bigger….

Mars is A Fickle Child//sci-fi//

When I was a little girl, I would go out on summer nights and sit on the swing and watch the planets war in the sky. I never thought I would become a part of that war.

At seven years old, Roxie has lost her parents to the TI epidemic that swept through her town. When she goes to the nearest trading post looking for a job or a chance at a fortune, she is saved from thugs by an out-of-towner named Telerin Rafi. Lonely for reasons he will not discuss, he offers Roxie a cleaning job aboard his sky-ship, and she agrees, only to discover that she is remarkably good at navigation.

Three years later, Telerin is arrested, accused of smuggling war criminals. Now Roxie must find out how well she really knows him, and—if he is innocent—how she will ever get them out of the bordered territories alive.

Everyman//spec-fic//

“I never asked to be a leader, to be a facade, to risk poison in my cup every evening. Did you choose me because you want to kill me?”

The old man shook his head. “No. We chose you because you cannot be killed.”

The common people agree to accept a new leader so long as they are allowed to put one man into the running along with the government’s choices. Their plan is to subvert the current faction’s ploy for power. And they are just as determined that their man will win as the government is determined to kill him.

Jamie Thackerry does not want anything to do with power or politics, but with twenty years of experience dodging death, he may be the people’s only hope.

The Cleft in Fate//historical fiction//

“Sometimes life isn’t taking what comes to you, my sister, but shoving yourself at it, and breaking through.”

“Breaking through to what?” asked Louisa-Margaretta.

“Anything you want, I suppose,” replied Christianna.

After their wastrel but well-meaning brother is disinherited, three sisters must seek their own fortunes by marrying well before their father dies and they lose their last chance at good society. The only problem? One is painfully shy, one over-ambitious, and the last, already eyed by an heir to thousands, is in love with a man of half her consequence.

The Summer of Green Coats and Black Lies//historical fiction//

“We are not boys anymore, brother. All the former wrongs should have nothing to do with how we treat each other. We cannot afford bitterness now, can we?”

Thomas Warwick has lived his entire life under the shadow of his brilliant brother, William, heir to their war-hero father’s grand English estate, but remains content with his otherwise happy world.

Enter a grand tiff between William and their father and a great dark secret that directly involves Thomas. With his brother sent away indefinitely under the threat of disinheritance, his world dangerously close to falling apart, and his mother offering him the bulk of the massive family estate immediately, Thomas is approached by his brother, who begs him to help heal the rift with their father before it is too late.

The world at his feet, Thomas must decide if he will help his brother or take what may be his only chance at redeeming his tarnished reputation.

Note: If this story line sounds familiar to any of you, it is. Kudos.

Perhaps you have heard from my social media (or this post) that my book Crowning Heaven went to my editor last month?

Well it did.

And to celebrate, I am sharing with you some of my favorite (non-spoiler) snippets!

Comment below with which one is your favorite and tell me what you are currently reading or writing!

Heaven leaned her arms on the thick upper log of the fence and gazed out down the hill at the Plain Man’s orchard and the golden wheat fields beyond, all drenched in warm sunlight. Everything was so peaceful—even the grief she had gone through here could not mar it in her mind. She would miss this place, miss it with every ounce of her aching soul.

“You aren’t resting,” said the Plain Woman’s voice, soft and low behind her.

——

“Have you been many places?”

“Many. Far islands, distant countries, seen things most men hear of only in books. Should your majesty ever find herself in possession of the time, I should love to be her guide. I know the world as few do.”

“What is your favorite place?”

“Rodhacar,” he answered without hesitation. “There is no place I love more than these rugged mountains and crisp springs, and rivers running wild like ten thousand horses.”

—–

A gasp sounded behind her and she saw Tydeus Cerastes standing in the doorway, his face a white mask of shock.

She whirled around despite herself, her heart leaping to her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Look, Heaven, the sun is rising,” said Tiarni, pointing towards the east over the high hills. The sky had been growing lighter the whole ride through, but now the ruddy sun had broken over the tousled barrier of hills and was ascending.

—–

She seized Thrasi’s hand and broke into a run, feeling the rush of excitement like the driving rain. The hood flew back, and her hair was blessedly wet as the rain ran down her face. She was soaked in an instant, and she had never felt better in her life.

They ducked under cover on the other side and went straight around the corner into the second courtyard.

She was laughing—laughing for the first time in what seemed like forever, and she couldn’t stop.

—–

“There are still concerns about more attempts, and on you, my lady,” said Breac. “Tydeus left with threats pouring from him like the river Tharis.”

—–

He glanced at Heaven briefly, his nostrils flared in his handsome face and his bright eyes blazing. Then he stopped short and looked again.

He took a couple of slow steps toward her, a smile growing on his face. In the center of his attention, Heaven felt herself growing cold.

“So, this is the jewel of the Cassidaes…Neoma’s girl child.”

Heaven sighed softly, breath-like. The moon and star light illuminated her face and the gentle curve of her upraised chin, the shadow of the latter plunging her throat into a high collar of blackness. “The stars are much closer here, I think,” she whispered. “You can almost reach out and catch at their aliveness.”

—–

The world does not believe in kindness. When people grow up, they begin to believe the lie that everything must be first for their own good and second for their fellow man. Do not believe it for a moment. Perhaps that is where the rich come from, or the powerful, but never the happiest or the most beautiful of people. Where the sacrifice of kindness is, there beauty lies.

—–

“For Castellan!” The shout rang out and hung for the space of five heartbeats.

And then the night air, fresh beneath the light of the silver moon and stars, was filled with the sound of fifty thousand voices raised in song.

—–

“Do you miss it much?” he asked gently. “Tennessee?”

A pang of homesickness struck her and she had a sudden yearning for cider and doughnuts, and the leaves turning, and baseball. Tennessee had been on the edge of fall when she left.