When Irish Ears Are Smiling
Welcome to my life. I am researching and writing my next book, which is based on the gods of ancient Ireland – the Tuatha Dé Danann, to be specific –… Read more When Irish Ears Are Smiling →
Welcome to my life. I am researching and writing my next book, which is based on the gods of ancient Ireland – the Tuatha Dé Danann, to be specific –… Read more When Irish Ears Are Smiling →
In TRAVELER, Jessa learns that her dreams – the source of most of her imaginative writing – haven’t all been fantasy. In fact, they’ve been a window into all the… Read more Tidbit Tuesday: A First Glimpse Into Another World →
Happy Friday! And it’s a definite happy day for me thanks to this terrific review from Fay at Bibliophile Soprano! She opened the review with this gem: “I am in… Read more Bibliophile Soprano Reviews TRAVELER! →
Just a reminder that I’ll be sitting in with The Young Creatives club at Town Book Center in Collegeville, PA on tonight from 5 – 7pm, and we’ll be… Read more Come See Me At Towne Book Center Tonight! →
Two years ago today, at 4:30 in the afternoon, my life completely changed. I was a single mom with two kids, barely any money in my bank account, and a… Read more Happy Book Deal Anniversary To Me! →
I’m writing in my car Turn on the radio I pull a thought closer It just says no I say that I don’t like it But I know I’m a… Read more Confessions Of A Crazy Car Writer →
I have been laugh-out-loud crazy busy. Borderline psychotic, even. What kind of idiot thinks they can fully research and write a first draft in six weeks? This kind, apparently. But the really weird thing is, I woke in the middle of the night a few days ago and had a sudden revelation about a cool plot hook and ever since, the book has pretty much been writing itself. So I’m plugging away, and God willing, we’ll have an awesome book (in hardcover!) circa 2019.
When we were really young, we used to share a bed, and I fell asleep to the sound of my brother’s breathing every night. I miss it sometimes. #2bitTues Topic:… Read more I can hear his breathing, slow and even . . . →