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Great News For BTE!

I’ve had another email from my prospective publisher! You certainly can’t fault their communication. So far, it’s second to none.

They have now read Beguiling The Enemy and the terrific news is they liked it! I had no idea what to expect because they’re the first ones to have read it, so I’m sure you can imagine my relief was immense.

In a few days time, they are going to send me a proposal. I cannot wait to read it. My excitement levels are rapidly rising, but I’m still trying to be sensibly contained. Oh, just wait until I tell you the rest… 😀

Thank you so, so much to everyone for your public as well as private messages of support. I really appreciate you sticking with me to share all of this. But please don’t loosen those fingers and toes yet, there’s still a way to go.

I’m off to pinch myself. Again.

xxx

Request!!!

I don’t think I could have asked for a more perfect blog post to follow on from my last.

On Friday 13th July, I received a request from a publisher for a full of both Blood Roses AND Beguiling The Enemy. For all of you who have now picked up on my Repetitive Emailing Checking syndrome, ironically it was a morning when I’d languidly reached for my iphone, switched it on to let it warm up, and even left it for a few moments after it had tinged because I was so convinced it was nothing more than sale-mail or a calendar notice.

The next few minutes were something of a blur as I stumbled sleepy-eyed down the stairs in my pyjamas, handed my phone to my husband and said something along the lines of: “Does that say what I think it does?”

I can’t give you many details at present, but just seven days later, the publisher had read Blood Roses. Not only were they excited about the potential in the book but also in me as an author! If that wasn’t enough, they are now going straight on to read Beguiling The Enemy.

It’s still early days and it’s only just beginning to sink in but I have been itching to share this with you. Hopefully, if all goes well, I’ll be able to give you some more information in due course. No sneaky emails asking me for behind-the-scenes gossip – I can’t tell you anything more!! 😉

To everyone who has been rooting for me, please continue to keep those fingers and toes crossed. For those of you who have been doing so since New Voices 2011, let alone 2010, I hope you’ll be able to return them to normal circulation soon. Goodness knows they deserve the break.

xxx

The Purgatory Of Perfection

I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to perfectionism. This was never instilled in me as a child. It’s completely self-inflicted. But I think I know what influenced it.

My dad was a painter and decorator. He went to art college as a teenager to learn his craft after gaining an apprenticeship. He set up his own business soon after and made it a success over thirty+ years of hard work and determination. He was even headhunted by Laura Ashley, but declined on account of the work taking him away from his young family. My dad loved his job and was exceptional at it.

As a young child and even into my teenage years and early-twenties, I would sit and watch him for hours, often sat cross-legged amongst dustsheets on the floor as he worked. I remember being told stories of the master craftsman at work, not by him, but by others. How he used to paper the ceilings of grand hotels single-handedly, people stopping to watch the speed and perfection with which he worked. He could seamlessly match even the most intricate patterns together on wallpaper because of his exceptional eye for detail. You’d never see a join, smudges in paint or uneven lines. I remember people sliding their fingers over our home’s unblemished silk-like glossed woodwork. Whether he was decorating a stately home or a tiny bungalow, every job was done with pride and care.

I’d often be plotting stories as I watched him. As the only academic in the household, both my dad and mum always wondered where I got my incessant need to read and write. My dad struggled with his literacy. He liked to read but found writing difficult, and spelling was particularly challenging. In that respect, our crafts are at opposite ends of the spectrum. But there were also similarities.

My dad could look at a room, envisage the end product and make that become a reality. He knew how to create mood and atmosphere and where to draw attention. Detail was as important as the wider picture. And he always instilled in me that preparation was key. He’d know if he was going for contemporary or renaissance, warm and cosy or fresh and spacious. He’d strip a room back to the basic framework so he had a decent foundation to start with, then slowly build it up layer by layer. He had an order to things. He wouldn’t spend hours caulking the coving if he hadn’t yet wallpapered the walls. It was only at the end that he’d go through everything with a fine toothcomb, paying attention to all those small details. Then he’d stand back and accept the job was done.

That has always been one of my biggest problems – knowing when to let go. I guess that’s because I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the years with my writing, not least by rushing or floundering because I didn’t prepare. Sacred Dark, my first attempt at a full-length adult novel, was over 150K after years of massacring it. In the end it was the equivalent of my dad papering over badly prepared walls, painting around pictures hoping no one would lift it to look underneath (yes, he knew someone who did that!), and filling in irredeemable cracks with copious amounts of filler. It doesn’t work. When I get cross at the time I wasted over the years, I remind myself it was time spent trying to hone my craft –invaluable time spent learning from my mistakes. At least I finally recognised when to walk away. I wrote books in-between and have now come back with the fresh eyes for Sacred Dark. Needless to say I’ve got a tingle of excitement about it again.

I’m also excited because I know what works for me now. I mustn’t get so caught up in the preparation that I forget to allow my characters to be spontaneous. For them, and subsequently the plot, to take unexpected routes. I like a framework but not for every detail to be planned – I like ideas coming to me as I write. Writing a story is an adventure. I’d like to always treat it as that. Saying that, I keep to the principles my dad shared with me: work hard, do the best job you can and most of all enjoy it.

Five years ago, my dad passed away with a rare form of cancer: aggressive multiple myeloma. It was the anniversary last weekend. For obvious reasons, I struggled to write this blog post then. He was 48 when he was given a few months to live. He fought for seven years – way beyond the survival rate even the specialist working with him predicated. During those terrifying years of small achievements and painful setbacks, he became a pioneer for research into multiple myeloma, agreeing to try procedures even when no-one knew the full extent of the risks. He watched the friends he’d made undergoing the same treatment pass away one by one, but he wouldn’t give up. He was the last survivor. He knew he might not make it, but like he said, because he kept pushing the limits, one day someone would.

Despite what the years of treatment did to him physically, what I will always remember is the person inside. Someone exceptionally brave who wouldn’t quit. The last time I saw him conscious was his 56th birthday. He was sat up in his hospital bed and waved me off and told me he’d see me the following week. I had the phone call from my mum the following morning to make the two-hour journey as quickly as I could. I held his hand until the moment they switched off the life-support machine.

A part of me died that day too. The part that believed everything would be okay in the end. Sometimes it isn’t. And you have to learn to live with that. You learn to tolerate the pain of not getting what you want.

I’ll end with telling you that one of my earliest childhood memories is lying on my parents’ bed, singing a song with my dad. It was my favourite as a little girl. You might know it:

Incy Wincy spider climbed up the water spout.

Down came the rain, and washed the spider out.

Out came the sun, and dried up all the rain

And the Incy Wincy spider climbed up the spout again.

I might have lost a part of me that day, but I gained another. It reinforced in me the will not to give up. Not ever. For years I kept my writing to myself because it never felt perfect enough. Self-doubt is so prevalent in us writers because we live in a world of subjection. I’ve no doubt that, now my submissions are underway, I’ve some hard knocks ahead. Right editor at the right time with the right book to hit the right market is quite a feat. And above all, there’s the possibility no editor/agent will think it’s good enough. Am I prepared for that? No. I don’t think any of us are honestly equipped for rejection. But neither am I equipped not to persist. I’m too much of my dad’s girl for that.

Hot Pink Post

You might remember me mentioning in a previous blog post that I received an invitation to join a new group blog called The Hot Pink Typewriter. It’s hosted by a team of romance writers at various stages of their career – I didn’t realise my invitees meant published, soon to be published or right on the cusp. Those of you who know I exude self-confidence will understand why I was a little intimidated to say the least.

These writers are a fabulous bunch, and posts appear regularly about writing and editing, interviews with authors, personal writing experiences and news of what’s happening in the romance world. This week I’ve written my first ever post on the mechanics of writing and have used a familiar scene from Beguiling The Enemy to illustrate. Please come over and visit if you have time.

xxx

For BTE Fans (No Email Required)

I know I don’t usually blog on a Tuesday, but I wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who has visited here since Sunday. The truth is I feel really mean making you email me for the chapter I offered. I know it’s extra hassle for you and I really appreciate those who have asked. In the interests of my day job though, I had to err on the side of caution.

Fortunately in this BTE scene I don’t. 🙂

Happy reading and thanks to everyone who continues to support me. xxx

Kane hadn’t even looked at her in the hour or so that had passed. His coldness only made what she was about to do harder. Caitlin clenched her hands in her lap as she watched him from the bed. No time yet had felt like the right time to approach him. But she knew no time would.

    She thought of the witness statements she’d read about his feeding habits. They were as contradictory as everything else produced about him. Some claimed him to be rough, brutal and insatiable, the sex acts that followed the feed equally fierce and self-sating. Others reported him to be sensual and considerate, but still controlling. None ever wanted to prosecute. All were happy to boast of their encounter. All said they’d offer themselves to him again.

    He stubbed out his second cigarette before standing from the sofa. Crossing the room to the kitchen, he re-emerged with a beer and a bottle of water. He placed the latter on the coffee table rather than take it over to her. She wondered if it was her cue to join him.

    Her thudding heart resonated in her ears as she forced herself off the edge of the bed. She stepped over to the sofa opposite his, tentatively sitting on the edge.

    Kane took a mouthful of beer, the solemnity in his eyes telling her she hadn’t been forgiven even if his anger had dissipated.

    She knew she couldn’t hesitate or she’d lose her nerve. ‘If you tell me what killed my parents, I’ll let you feed.’

    He lifted his eyebrows slightly in faint amusement. ‘Excuse me?’

    ‘You heard me.’

    ‘Yeah, I heard you. I just want you to say it again.’

    ‘It’s a fair exchange.’

    ‘You’re offering to let me feed? On you?’

     She nodded.

    ‘What happened to the systems and protocols?’

    ‘I want a name, Kane. I need to know.’ She dug her nails deeper into her perspiring palms. ‘Before you’re going to do whatever it is you’re planning to do, I want to know what it is.’

    He lifted his bottle steadily to his lips, took a slow mouthful then lowered it again, his gaze not flinching from hers as he subtly licked away the remnants. ‘I’d need to control you for every moment of the feed. Are you sure you can take that?’

    She couldn’t let her gaze falter. ‘More than sure.’

    Her stomach flipped at his flicker of a smile as he reverted his attention back to the TV.

    ‘This is not an open-ended offer, Kane.’

    He was a vampire. It should have been the easiest thing in the world to tempt him to bite.

    ‘What’s the problem?’ she asked, her tone laced with an urgency she hadn’t intended.

    His eyes snapped to hers again. ‘The problem is that I could forget myself, Caitlin. I could decide I want more than just your blood. Like you said, if I do anything you don’t like, it could jeopardise my plans. And believe me, during a feed I could do a lot of things you don’t like.’

    There was a stirring low in her abdomen at the threat, but she forced herself to focus on the significance of what else he’d said. ‘So you do need to get to my heart.’

    He narrowed his eyes slightly. ‘You do know what goes on in a dual feed, don’t you? A master vampire gets you to the height of arousal until all that built up energy gets fit to explode and then he bites – hard and fast. And just as you climax, at that exact moment, he drinks, taking every last shred of energy. You don’t remember who you are, where you are, you don’t even care. Humans can’t survive it. Even you shadow-readers, with your constantly self-generating energy, can only take so much. And I’m capable of taking more than you can even imagine.’

    She refused to look away despite every facet of common sense screaming at her to retreat. ‘But you won’t forget yourself, will you? Not if your need for vengeance is that strong.’

    ‘That’s still one hell of a risk you’re willing to take.’

    ‘I have nothing to lose, do I?’

    Her chest tightened as he held her gaze for an uncomfortable couple of seconds.

    ‘And you thought me trying to seduce you was tragic,’ he said. ‘You offering yourself to me in exchange for information you won’t be able to do anything with is what’s tragic, Caitlin.’ He lifted his bottle back to those sexy, bow lips. ‘It almost breaks my heart.’

    She slid her hands from her lap to grip the sofa either side of her thighs. ‘I just want to know what it is.’

    ‘You really want to trade that flawless skin for information you can do nothing with?’

    ‘Do you really want to turn down a free feed?’

    He licked the bottom of his lip as his gaze swept from her throat to her mouth. ‘I’d want to bite you full on,’ he declared, the intensity behind those navy eyes as they locked on hers telling her he meant every word. ‘No numbing. I’d want you to feel me go in. And I will hold you down. I can’t risk those magic fingers wandering.’

    She nodded despite knowing he was still angry enough to make this difficult for her. But she knew if she pulled away now, she was unlikely to regain the courage to offer herself to him again.

    Kane assessed her carefully for a few moments longer before pushing the coffee table aside with his foot, freeing the space between them. He placed his drink on the floor and leaned back, draping his arms over the back of the sofa. ‘Come here,’ he said, his gaze resting squarely on hers. 

 

Calling All BTE Fans!

It’s my birthday this week. I’m such a big kid when it comes to birthdays. While trying to work out how I could shamelessly squeeze my excitement into a blog, I realised it was 25 years ago this week that I officially embarked on my journey toward becoming an author.

I don’t know how long I’d persistently been telling my mum and dad that I was going to be an author when I grew up. I’d also told them that, for this to happen, a typewriter was absolutely (yes, absolutely) essential. On my 13th birthday, it arrived. I was going to spend my life creating and writing stories. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for me to be doing (and still does). Of course, back then my vision wasn’t complicated by reality. An author wrote a book, that book got published and then the author wrote more books. Ah, the simplicity.

And here it is – my now faded, discoloured, not even sure if it still works (and I’m not risking trying!), electric typewriter down from the attic:

I tapped away on that typewriter for hours. It wasn’t the quietest of machines, and I only found out years later how it used to drive my mum and dad insane with the repetitive clunking vibrating through the ceiling every night and every weekend. I subjected my poor parents to that through the next five years of my school days, through uni (I still lived at home), until I eventually packed my bags and took my trusty typewriter to my very first flat when I embarked on my teaching career.

I produced a lot of work over the years as I tried to hone my skills and discover what type of writer I was. I spent most of my teenage years writing plays and sketches and performing them in the local church hall. I wrote a children’s novel, and a series of children’s books. I tried my hand at short stories in-between working on novels – horror, sci-fi, crime and romance were all genres I sampled. Sometimes it feels like it’s taken a very long time to find my niche. But as I wrote my first paranormal romance when I was 17, I think I’ve always known. The journey between then and now is a whole other story.

I still find it scary to think 25 years have passed since I unwrapped that present. My initial thought was that 25 years on, I still haven’t made it. But by saying that, I’m wrongly intimating the same for every other author out there who hasn’t signed on the dotted line yet. It’s during moments like that, when I put myself down, that I need to revert back to a time when I didn’t need a book deal or pay cheque to convince myself I was an author. Back when the only proof I needed was what I’d written on a blank page. More than that, it was my desire to keep filling those blank pages even when I didn’t know if they’d ever be read.

And that leads me on to the real purpose of this blog…

If you’ve been stalking this blog or following me on Twitter, you’ll know I’ve recently embarked on submissions. I’ve started getting Blood Roses out there and it’s Beguiling The Enemy’s turn this week. So as part of that, I’ve got a chapter of Beguiling The Enemy available for anyone who’d like to read it (please be over 18!). All you have to do is contact me over the next few days via my email on this blog or alternatively DM me, and I’ll send you the chapter as soon as I can. It’s 100% Kane and Caitlin, so if you enjoyed my New Voices entry, you’ll hopefully enjoy this too.

I’d love to hear from you.

xxx

Bitten By The Bite Club!

I wasn’t planning to write a post so soon after the last, but I’ve been itching to share this with you. As most of you will know, I’ve only been blogging since April. After all the initial newbie anxiety (Will anyone read this? Who really cares what I’ve got to say? Have I even got anything interesting to blog about?) that I’m sure many of you will relate to, I’m much more relaxed about it now. I still get excited when I check my stats though and see I’m not being ignored, and I’m even more thrilled when someone takes the time out to comment.

So imagine how I felt when I had a message from Michele Hauf asking if she could republish my blog post ‘Let’s Keep the Undead Alive’ on her Vampchix & Bite Club blog!

In the opening paragraph, Michele says: ‘Lindsay Pryor writes excellent vampire fiction, and is currently seeking publication. She had a great article at her blog not long ago, and I’ve featured it here today…’ 

You’d have thought I’d been offered publication from the way I bounced. And, in a way, I guess I was! Blog published! 🙂

And on that note, before I go, with regards “currently seeking publication”, I’m starting submissions for Blood Roses this week. As for Beguiling The Enemy, I submitted that to an agent a couple of months ago, so I’m still holding that one back for the time being.

All crossed fingers and positive vibes gratefully received! xxx

Let’s Keep The Undead Alive.

It’s a little chilly here. It might be because it’s got later in the day. Maybe it’s because the thicket of tree branches overhead have become denser or because the path has become narrower. Worse still, the subtle decline into the silent shadows ahead is only threatening more darkness to come. Maybe there’s light at the end of it. Maybe not.

But if you’re back to join me on my journey again, know that I’m already clinging to your arm. My eyes are wide and watchful in the dark. I flinch, and sometimes yelp, every time I hear a broken branch. If you do a mock growl to tease me, I’ll slap you in retaliation because I’m that tense. Yes, when it comes to all things supernatural and spooky, I’m a jabbering nervous wreck. But I love the darker side of paranormal and that’s why I write it.

So there’s no better topic for my first official blog post than my favourite supernatural beings: vampires. They’re not the only thing I write about, but it’s what I’m known for. Mine are the romantic type, in a dark and ever-so-slightly disturbing type of way. And let me say, with the clichéd scene-setting out of the way, I love my genre and, because of that, I can’t help but feel defensive when others say this vampire hoo-ha is just a trend. That it’ll fade out. We’ll get over it. We’ll get bored. That this Twilight epidemic will fade to nothing.

Er, no.

So what is it about these vampire guys (and gals)? And why am I so sure they’re not going to be reburied any time soon?

Vampires are embedded in our society’s psyche. In fact, they’re embedded in the psyche of many societies outside our own. Nearly every country on our planet has its own version of the vampire myth. Even before Dracula was penned over a century ago, real tales of vampirism had been rife in Eastern Europe for decades. And when those stories (along with the Serbian term ‘Vampire’) infiltrated our society in the 1800’s, apparently any newspaper containing such tales sold by the bucket load.

But why? Admit it or not, on some level we all have an instinct to be fascinated with the mysterious and the macabre. We’re all a little bit intrigued by the supernatural, not least our lack of ability to explain it.

So what is it about vampires in particular? What is it that has made them such an iconic romantic figure? Whether it’s the social fascination with bad boys or the psychoanalytic view that vampire fantasies are no more than subliminal repressed sexual fantasies, vampires have got an incessant appeal. But let’s be honest, our current vampiric heroes are a long way from archaic tales of hairless beasts with protruding ratty teeth and rank breath (I’m not a lookist, but still…). So when did it change?

We have to start with the late 1800’s and Bram Stoker paving the way with his Gothic masterpiece, Dracula. This 400 year-old vampire went on to become the archetype of vampire characterisation for decades. The cloak, the smart evening dress and the Transylvannian accent (which, by the way, is the only accent I can muster from my Welsh twang) are still implanted in people’s heads today. Dracula was sophisticated, a predator and a total sucker (excuse the pun) for his base urges for sex and blood. To the Victorians, he was horrifying; he represented everything they fought against. But he was still fascinating. And since its release over a century ago, Dracula has not been out of print. Not only did Bram Stoker start a billion-dollar industry, he created a vision of the vampire that was going to stay with us for decades.

(As a brief aside, it wasn’t until the Hammer films of the 1950’s that vampires were first given fangs. In fact, fangs are never mentioned in traditional folklore. But, darn, when those neat little protrusions are constructed well, they’re sexy, right?)

Then in the 1970’s Anne Rice arrived with Interview With The Vampire. Her genius? A book written from the vampire’s perspective. For over fifty years we had not seen inside the vampire’s head. Finally we were getting to know them and, with it, understand them. We discovered vampires had human emotions and with it came a whole new appeal. Yes, Ms Rice’s vampires were still aristocratic and sophisticated, still predators, but they were also young, handsome and erotic (who remembers the uproar from the movie scene with Louis and Lestat’s blood-fest with their lady friends in the drawing room?). They interacted with other vampires; we had vampire dynamics. And through this we saw the vampire as a tragic figure riddled with internal conflict. Their immortality came with a price. They felt loneliness. They felt despair. As a result, we empathised and even sympathised with those that preyed on us. Not only was there something very romantic about them and their plight, we were starting to relate to them.

Then came my era. Ah yes, the 1980’s – a decade that brought further evolution of the vampire legend of old. I was a teenager when I first saw The Lost Boys. No more aristocracy. No more corsets. No more finery. These vampires didn’t sweep around with airs and graces. They were still carefree and dangerous. They were still rebels. But these vampires were current. These vampires were more relatable to teenage youth than any others. They didn’t live in mansions or castles. They hung around fairgrounds and comic book stores. This was Joel Schumacher’s vision and it was very, very sexy. And terrifying. The first time I saw the film, I spent more time looking away than at the screen. But still something was embedded. There was something very cool about these vampires: they were as contemporary as it got. They were dateable. And I was hooked.

Then in the 1990’s came Buffy The Vampire Slayer! I know I shouldn’t step into the realm of slayers because I’m fighting the vampire corner here. But how can we not acknowledge Joss Wheddon when it comes to the evolving vampire in romance? Yes, a slayer was no longer Van Helsing. Or male.  The pretty little blonde was no longer a scream machine, but a feisty, smart and pro-active vamp killer. And along with Buffy came Angel, and a significant new relationship between vampire and slayer emerged. Suddenly there was a forbidden love between two beings whose basic instincts should make them want to kill each other. And for years I watched with fascination as a love story unravelled with Angel fighting his true nature to be a better being for the girl he loved. Aww…

I’ve missed so much out in-between, so many other accolades, but I could talk for hours. Instead, I’ll end with the present day and the phenomenon that is Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight.  I’ll be honest—I’m not a Twilight fan. I’ve not read any of the books. I saw the first film and have vague recollections of the second. It doesn’t help that I was already heavily into the BBC series Being Human, and Edward Cullen vs John Mitchell? Hmmm. But I have no doubt that if Twilight had come out when I was a teenager, I would have been besotted with the whole thing.

Love it or loathe it, Ms Meyer has appealed to a whole new generation of vampire fans. In the vampire evolution, she wrote a vampire for a predominantly teenage audience. And because of her audience, she made the vampire as sympathetic and safe as he could be (which is probably why I struggle with the appeal). He was no longer the guilt-free, decadent, sexual predator – he had a conscience. A conscience that governed his actions more than his base needs. He was a protector, utterly devoted to the one he loved and made her feel secure and special. He was no longer the beast that terrified teenage girls and women of the 1800’s but instead he had become a safer, more justifiable craving. He became the good guy. The vampire became a teenage superhero.

And heroes stay with us.

The way I see it, we have a whole new generation of vampire fans coming through. For some of them, Edward Cullen would have been their first crush. Some will get over it and move on. But take it from a 37 year-old who, once bitten, twenty years on, is still reading about the sexy suckers. I don’t think I’ll ever have a to-be-read pile without a vampire romance in there somewhere or stop rushing to see the latest vampire movie at the cinema. I’m not ashamed to admit I still find them fascinating. They remain wonderful characters to explore. And the closer to the edge, the more tainted, the more tortured, the more intense and, yes, the sexier, the better.

Can the trend keep evolving? Can any of us really pinpoint the vampires’ appeal? Does it matter if we can’t? The fact is, it’s there and I think it’s going to stay with us for a long time to come. I want to keep writing about vampires, I want to keep reading about vampires and their popularity out there tells me I’m not alone.

Now, as I pause for breath, and stop in the darkest, loneliest part of the path, I’m hoping you’re still around. And if you’d like to comment, I’d love to hear from you. Share your favourite vampire movie, TV show or novel. Maybe you remember how you first got into vampires. Who’s your ultimate fanged guilty pleasure? Is it Damon or Stefan who makes your heart race? Spike or Angel? Maybe you’d choose Edward Cullen over John Mitchell any day.

And if I’m left standing here on my own in the dark, I guess I’ll just have to run.

Some of the above facts were gained from the fab BBC documentary ‘Vampires: Why They Bite’. The rest is just opinion. Don’t slay me for it. 

Next time I’ll be back with some insider information on Blood Roses and Beguiling The Enemy and letting you know what I’m planning to do with them. I’ve got a feeling the really scary stuff is yet to come. 

The tale so far…

I wrote my first paranormal romance when I was 17. That was almost 21 years ago. Back then, the shelves weren’t stacked with genre, and especially not for young adults like I was. There was no Twilight. The Vampire Diaries weren’t available in my local bookshops in the U.K. I didn’t have a computer back then, let alone access to Amazon. So instead I wrote my own.

And that’s how this PNR journey started. I haven’t stopped writing since. I won’t fill you in on all the detail now, but it’s been a long road to self-discovery. I’ll be succinct by saying it’s taken me a long time to identify my voice and genre. I came across the umbrella term ‘speculative fiction’ years ago and knew I was in the right building, but it still took me a while to uncover which department I was going to work in.

So let me pull you almost up to date with the key event at the end of 2010 because that was when it all changed for me. I tentatively entered the opening chapters to a vampire novel into the Mills and Boon New Voices writing competition. And I had success. It was the only paranormal romance to get into the Top 10 and then go on to the final. This was momentous to me, not only because I wasn’t used to putting my work ‘out there’ but because, finally, I’d resolved that I’d discovered my voice. More than that, people liked it. Making the final again in New Voices 2011 confirmed I knew exactly what I wanted to write. (If you’d like to know more about what led up to entering New Voices, check out my Bio where there’s a link to my interview with the lovely CC MacKenzie.)

And that leads me to the here and now. Welcome to my blog! If I could hug you to say hello, I would. You’re most likely here because you came across me through New Voices. On that basis, it’s probably because you’ve fallen for Caleb (Blood Roses) or Kane (Beguiling The Enemy). Maybe both. Maybe you just like the way I write.

If you’d like to follow me on my journey as I leap into trying to get published, I’d love your company. I’ll blog any successes and the inevitable failures as I struggle through. Hopefully that sounds interesting enough.

I’m not one of those people who’s uncomfortable with silences so I’ll be on here once a month, maybe twice. In the meantime, I hope you stay a little while for now and enjoy your visit. My first official post will be on my favourite topic – yep, vampires. I’ll let you know how I got into them and loads of other stuff. And if you know who started the rumour that the vampire popularity trend is dying off, please invite them along…

Hugs xxx