Archive for April, 2017

My lilacs are blooming like crazy this week, so spring is definitely here.  I suppose that means that, in addition to cutting them to bring in the house, I should also be clearing out the flower beds to get them ready for the new season. Instead, though, today, I’m going to enjoy the flowers I brought inside while I write.  I could write outside, but half the neighborhood has lawn mowers or other outdoor tools running, and even in the house, I can still hear them if I don’t have my headphones on.  So I’ll put my afternoon to good use by getting more words on pages.

I’m still working on my revamped writing goals for the rest of the year, and I’m counting that as my spring clean-up.  It kind of is, because otherwise, the rest of the year will be a shambling, disorganized mess, as far as my writing goals.  Probably otherwise, too, if I don’t get update this settled.  So I am aiming to finish this new writing plan before the end of this month.  I have to.

Before I get back to the writing, I have a little snippet of Medusa #2…


Philomena let him seat her at a corner booth in the bright diner he found and didn’t protest when he told the waitress they both wanted the dinner special. She just kept thinking of her mother and Jason and the danger they were in because of her. Because if she didn’t think about that, she’d be thinking instead of the coming night and the monstrous bed in the tiny cabin she was about to share with Ryder. And that was unsafe territory after the past twenty-four hours, just as dangerous as the Harvesters, but in a much different manner.
“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Mena,” he said softly, stroking the back of her hand where it lay on the table.

She glanced up from her plate, aware of the warmth sliding up her arm from his touch. “How can I not?”
“Danny is going to make sure they’re safe.” His low voice was soothing, though it still sent a shiver up her spine in a way that was far from soothing. “They’ll be getting ready to travel tomorrow, then hit the road the following day.”
“Jason should be in school.” She didn’t let herself think of the other thing.
He smiled, setting his hand more securely over hers. “It’ll be fine, baby. I promise.”
She set her fork down. “You shouldn’t make promises like that. You can’t know for sure.”
His dark eyes went serious in a flash. “I will keep the two of you safe, Mena.”
Her stomach twisted at his words. “You should worry about keeping Jason safe first.”
“And how do you think he’d feel if I let something happen to you?” His grip on her hand tightened.

She looked away, swallowing. She didn’t want to think about that either.
“For all intents and purposes, you’re his mother, Mena. You’ve raised him since he was born. No–” he held up his other hand when she opened her mouth to protest– “just because she gave birth to him and physically lived there for a couple weeks afterward and sends him a birthday card when she thinks of it, that all means nothing. Desi is a lousy mother, but you aren’t, and Jason knows that. He’d be devastated if I let something happen to you.” He shot her a hard glance. “And even if I didn’t want you so bad my zipper’s about to burst, I’d need to keep you safe just because you’re family.”
That didn’t make her feel better. “So you have control issues and a knight in shining armor complex,” she said, lifting one shoulder.
He tugged on her hand, getting her attention again. “I may work well in protector mode, Mena, but I’m no knight in shining armor.” He held her gaze this time, his own heated. “Having a sheet of solid metal between us is my idea of torture.”


Now I’m off to write.  I hope you all have a wonderful week!




( Photo credit: _demare.thibaut_ via / CC BY-SA )

I’ve seen a lot of the view above this weekend.  Yes, the weather’s been nice, but when the words are coming, why would I not take dictation, right?  Okay, yes, I did get my regular household chores done yesterday, but still got new words into my manuscript.  Yes, I spent two solid hours in the kitchen today, but I still got to write.  That makes me happy.  I think work is going to be kind of crazy at least the next two days, and possibly longer.  My team at the day-job is short-handed at the moment, and vacation season is going to pick up soon, so my writing time may be impacted a bit.

The weather’s been very nice this week, though I haven’t touched the flower bed yet.  Maybe next weekend?  Today, it was actually hot, which made the kitchen rather unpleasant when I turned the oven on.  But dinner was already planned before I knew it would be 85 degrees.  The warm weather is probably going to have some of my flowers blooming early.  My lilac doesn’t look like the ones below yet, but the buds are much closer to blooming than they should be in the middle of April.  I love the smell, though.  I actually miss the honeysuckle that used to bloom in the neighbor’s yard in the spring–the scent would waft all over the neighborhood, and it reminds me of my grandma, who used to wear a honeysuckle perfume.

( Photo credit: RichardBH via / CC BY )

Before I go back to the manuscript, how about a little snippet of tiger shifter?


But Vivi was climbing into his bed in nothing but a pair of black panties trimmed in grey lace, and looking like he’d kicked her.
He yanked at his already-loosened tie and shrugged out of his blazer. By the time he climbed into bed beside her, Vivi had curled up with her eyes closed and her back to him. He rolled onto his side, sliding his hand down her arm to where her hand covered her belly.
“I’m sorry, Vivi.”

She made an indistinct sound, and her shoulder jerked a little, the rest of her stiff.
He put his face into her hair and inhaled. “I’m not angry at you.”
She didn’t say anything.
“I’ve been worrying about you being so sick, and with the rogues stirring up more trouble, well, I’m being a dick. I’m sorry.”
She exhaled roughly.
“And Berdine evidently tried to call her mom earlier and got hung up on for her trouble.”
Vivi rolled to face him, startling him. “What?” Outrage flared in her golden eyes.
“Mari said she was busy and hung up.” He still wanted to put his fist through a wall, just as he’d wanted to do when India had told him earlier.
“Why would she do that to her child? What kind of woman would–” She stopped. “Never mind.” She glared up at him.

Boris smiled and smoothed a wisp of dark hair back from her cheek. “Because she’s selfish.”
Vivi looked like she wanted to add something more to his observation, but she pinched her lips together instead.
“What did your parents do to you, Vivi?” he asked softly.
Her lips parted, and surprise widened her eyes.


So how did you spend your spring weekend?  Doing lots of work, or playing hooky to enjoy the new season?



( Photo credit: Jeremy A.A. Knight via / CC BY )

Spring is really here.  I do love spring, with all of the pretty new growth on the trees and shrubs, and the abundance of flowers everywhere.  It feels like everything is new.  Of course not everything is, but why not take the opportunity to make something new?  Some things?  Like new goals.  A new coat of paint in a room that needs freshening up.  Maybe a new resolution in your personal life.  I actually like season changes better for starting new things and setting new goals than the new year.  The new year falls in the middle of winter, so it never feels like the right time to start new things to me.  I don’t know why, and it’s probably silly.  Maybe that’s why I never make New Year’s Resolutions.

New seasons, though, those feel like the right time to start fresh.

I’ve actually been writing like crazy lately, even with the day-job extra busy in the past few weeks.  I get to the office early in the mornings on purpose, early enough to get my giant cup of tea started and get my computer restarted so it’s ready to go when I actually have to start working.  And then I write.  Sometimes I get almost a half hour.  Sometimes it’s less, depending on which of my co-workers comes in early and is chatty.  And then if I get a lunch break, usually half of it is spent writing.  Sometimes more.  Yes, I should take a lunch break every day, but some days things are just too hectic.  But the writing is moving, which is wonderful.

I’ve been working on the fourth shifter story (yes, I know I need to finish rewriting the first one, but editing needs my laptop and I can’t do that at the day-job), and I have about 2/3 of it written.  I know it will need some rewriting and fine-tuning, but it’s moving along really well–I had to stop writing a scene the other day, because the characters are in a bad place, and it would be bad for me to be sitting at my desk sobbing in the middle of the office.  So I went back to it later.  But I’m pretty happy with it.  And I’m getting a better idea of things that still need to change in the first three stories in the series.  I know, plotting would help that, but my brain doesn’t work that way.

But as long as the writing is going well, I’m good.  I’ll keep going, with occasional breaks for rewrites.  I was going to wonder why I didn’t schedule any vacation days yet, but then I remembered I’m trying to hoard them for family emergencies this year.  So I’ll keep going with the time I get before and during the day-job and on the weekends and be happy for it.  Though I am still trying to refigure my writing goals for the year–which would be easier if I could decide whether I want to try to self-pub Hunting Medusa and the two follow-up stories, or try to market them elsewhere.

For now, though, I hope you’re enjoying early spring as much as I am, and here’s hoping for some fresh successes for all of us!

c 2090 Renee Silverman
Temecula August 2009

( Photo credit: Renee Silverman via / CC BY-ND )




It actually feels like spring today.  Looks like it, too.  Okay, so it’s a little too soon for the snapdragons, but because I love them, I’m keeping them.  The mini daffodils that were blooming under the snow a couple weeks ago are still blooming in the flower bed, but they’re very lonely.  Still, it was nice enough today to open the kitchen window while I had the oven on, just so the house didn’t feel like an oven.

I think the craziness at work may settle down a little this week, so my fried brain will have a chance to recover.  I didn’t get a single thing accomplished yesterday.  Nothing.  So all of the weekend household chores had to happen today.  Which is why dinner was a one dish affair, prepped and stuffed into the oven hours ago.  The laundry is ongoing, but will be done soon, too.  Which means a little writing maybe, before The Walking Dead season finale.

I mentioned elsewhere that I’ve always looked forward to the season finale for this show–it’s been one of my favorites since it started–but this season has made me consider giving it up.  Actually, that isn’t true.  This started at the end of last season when the finale consisted of the characters driving around and around to avoid blocked roads instead of going home, until the bad guy got them.  The story is dragging, characters I’ve loved have been doing really stupid things, and the bad guy is rampaging all over, unchecked.  I hate it.  So I have a lot riding on tonight’s extra-long episode.  I want to love it again.  It would suck to have invested seven years of my television viewing in it and have to quit now.

But because I’ve been hating the writing all season, it’s been good for one thing, anyway–making me take a look at my own writing.  Am I keeping the story moving?  Are my characters behaving like morons or the intelligent humans I’ve claimed they are?  That probably wasn’t what the show’s writers were going for, but at least it hasn’t been a total waste of my Sunday nights since October.  I probably wouldn’t mind so much, except it is the only show I watch live anymore.  We got rid of our satellite service last year (which replaced cable eons ago), and went to streaming services instead–why pay for so many channels we’re not watching, right?–but we had to find a way to still see this one show.

So I’m crossing my fingers, but not holding my breath.  And in the meantime, I’ve got some writing time till that starts, and I’m going to make good use of it.  But before I go, how about a little snippet of tiger shifter #1?


Harley felt better since he’d made up his mind. When he pulled up in front of the house, Tessa was just climbing out of her car.
He grinned and shoved his own door open. “Hey, Tessa.”
She stopped walking at the front step. “Hi, Harley.” She looked tired. Aside from the dark smudges beneath her eyes, she was too pale.
“Take pity on me.” He strode toward her.
She frowned, shifting her weight to one side. “What?”
“I’m starving. Don’t make me eat alone.”
“Harley, I really just–”
“Come on, honey. It’s only dinner. Somewhere casual, so you don’t even need to change.” She’d never seen him relentless before, but he could go there if necessary.
Clearly, she wanted to refuse.
“You need some supper, too.”
“Oh, Harley.” She sighed. “All right, but just something quick. I’m exhausted, and I wanted to go over to the house to do some clean-up.”
Point to Harley. He caught her elbow and steered her to his car. “When did you eat last?” He eased her into the passenger seat.
She frowned. “I don’t know. Last night, maybe. No, I had a granola bar earlier while I was in a meeting with Amy and David.”
He tsked at her. “You’re probably starving, too.” He closed the door, mentally congratulating himself for getting this far. And with far less hassle than he’d anticipated. She must really be tired.
He slid into his own seat and started the car again. “Anything in particular you’re hungry for?” He sneaked a sidelong glance at her and found she’d leaned her head back on the seat.
“It really doesn’t matter. We can go wherever you like.”

All sorts of inappropriate ideas sprang to mind, but he kept them to himself. It was far too soon to share those. “All right. Did you have a better day today?” Small talk. He could manage that till they got to the restaurant.
By the time he pulled into a parking space at Botticelli’s, Tessa had roused herself to polite conversation, and Harley thought this evening might turn out pretty well.


Here’s hoping for a great week ahead for all of us!