Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Coming Soon!

“What did you think, that I could just look into a crystal ball and give you the winning lotto numbers? No, sorry, I’m not magic.”

Ever wonder what your life would be like if you could see ghosts? At just five years old Kenzie was forced to see them. As she grows older, the cruel gift haunts every aspect of her life, especially her social life. She is just learning to cope with her ability a former friend comes back into her life, demanding her help.    

Friday, June 9, 2017


I have decided that I need a website. As much as I love my blog, I don't update it daily. I will be looking into building a website within the next few months. Also, I will address that new book cover and what's going on with Hair Of The Wolf soon.

Friday, May 26, 2017

What Charmed has taught me about storytelling

I want to start by saying that I have a love/hate relationship with the show Charmed. I never watched it when it was in its original run, but I caught reruns on TNT when waiting for Supernatural to come on. I remember thinking that the show was cool at first and then quickly growing bored with it. I can even remember a conversation that I had with one of my coworkers about it. They asked me why I didn't like the show and I thought it was more of a 'monster of the episode' show where the same thing happens every episode. It was one of those shows that were just entertaining enough for me to watch on a day when I didn't feel like thinking about much. I always wanted to like the show (since it clearly wanted to showcase strong women). I recently saw that Charmed was on netflix and thought to myself 'what the heck, I'll give it another chance'. I'm kind of glad that I did give it another chance because it taught me a lot about storytelling. One of the things I struggled with while writing Zombie Bite was character development and just development over time. Charmed has development, witches struggling to balance their personal wants and needs with what is expected of them. In almost every episode one of the sisters gets a new power or something happens to them that they have to explore. I really enjoyed seeing how that was handled. It wasn't like 'Prue got a new power and suddenly she knows what to do with it', it was more like Prue got a new power and she's struggling to control it. Anyway, Charmed has taught me a lot more than I would have thought it would upon the second viewing.

Friday, May 12, 2017

Zombie Bite is now in paperback!

Zombie Bite is now in paperback! You can check it out here:

Sunday, May 7, 2017

I finally did it!

I have been posting about how much I wanted to change the look of my blog and I finally did. I got a new logo, which I feel does my blog justice (I also love it). I'm going to try to start posting on here more normally again, but I can't make any promises. I have been busy working to get Hair of the Wolf out and working on something new. I feel like one of my biggest struggles has been word count. I feel like I had been holding the word count against myself too much. I hate feeling like I had to reach a certain amount of words to have a complete story and I think it holds me back. I'm just going to have to let stories flow for as long as their meant to now.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Hiring an editor

To say that I wasn't happy with Zombie Bite is an understatement. I was emotional when I finished writing it, and it was far from the best as a result. Hair of The Wolf is what I have been working on for over a year. The story is 'my baby', and as a result I am having trouble finding the flaws in it. I have decided to look into getting an editor. I want someone that I can use in the future as well (I am already kind of working on something else). I know that I will have many projects and I really need to start taking this more seriously. I love to write, but I have no passion for editing.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Internet trolls and Zombie Bite conclusion

My last post was about an internet troll who attacked my novel: Zombie Bite. I will admit that Zombie Bite was not my best work. I wrote it when I was dealing with a lot of different things, and I think it suffered as a result. I decided to write a short conclusion to the story (which I will be posting here, divided into two parts). So here's the first part, in all its unedited glory:

I forced my heavy eyelids open, taking in harsh lab lights. I tried to sit up, but something was across my chest, restraining me. Pain suddenly flooded my body, causing a single tear to escape my eye. Where the hell was I, and what had happened to me? I looked down to find that my arms and legs where covered in mud, and I remembered that I had been shot and left to die in the mud.
I heard a door open and close and suddenly the room was filled with sound. I couldn’t escape it. A chair slid across the room, a woman was gossiping about another doctor, and someone was chewing gum loudly. Every sound felt as if someone were playing the drums inside of my ears.
“Who are you people?” I asked.
Everything seemed to stop. It was like they hadn’t expected me to speak. I heard the loud clicking of heels as someone walked over to me, but my vision was too blurry to make out who it was. “I’m sorry for your loss,” said a female voice.
“My loss….” My voice trailed off as I realized she meant Eli. Eli had been everything to me and now he was gone. I wanted to feel something, but I just felt numb and exhausted. Maybe it was because I knew what Eli and I had was over long before he’d been infected. Did I even love him anymore? I thought I did, but I had left him when he needed me.
Suddenly, the table I was lying on moved forward. “Where are we going?” I asked as shapes and forms moved past me in such a hurry that I couldn’t make out what any of them where.
“We weren’t sure you were going to wake up so we had you in the morgue, but now I think it’s more appropriate for you to be in a guest room,” she said, her words echoing in my ears.
“I’m not your guest. I want to leave,” I said, as if it would do me any good. I knew I was at her mercy, but what did she want from me? Was she working for Dr. Haines, the woman who claimed to have a cure for ‘zombie’ infections or was she working of her own accord?
There was a loud buzzing sound and then everything became clear. I could see the pretty brunette woman who was pushing my bed into a large elevator. “What is this place?” I asked her as she pressed one of the buttons.
“It was an old women’s hospital. We’ve turned it into a medical center to help those taken by the late Dr. Haines,” she said the last few words with a smug smile.
“If you wanted to help me you wouldn’t have tied me to this table,” I said, nodding towards the thick ropes that bond me to the table.
“The ropes are for your own protection. We weren’t sure how you would react to being here,” she said.
The elevator doors opened with a low humming sound that seemed to crawl inside my ears. Everything was loud again, it was as if voices and sounds were magnified. I heard everything, from the whispers of a nurse, to a chair scraping the floor in the cafeteria. I barely had time to wonder what was wrong with me as people rushed past us in lab coats and scrubs, it was as if I were in a real hospital. Was there such a thing as a real hospital anymore? I thought the world had ended three years ago when the dead stopped being dead and started eating the living.
A young man wearing a lab coat joined us. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. May I ask your name?” He said as he flipped through some papers on a clipboard.
I felt the ropes that bound me go limp and I realized that he had cut them away. I sat up, but the room seemed to spin. I was dizzy and I felt nausea overtake me. I struggled to regain my composer as I was wheeled into a quiet room. The young man closed the door behind us, just as my surroundings settled. I wanted to stand, but I knew that I wasn’t well enough. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I asked.
“I’ve never seen anything like it, but you’re healing,” he said, pointing to my arm.

There was a bandage on my arm, right over where my bite mark had been. I slowly pulled the cloth from my arm, surprised to find undamaged skin beneath it. What did that mean? Was the wound killing me, or was it actually healing me?