Publishing Haitus

Life is a whirlwind of seasons. For years I’ve been in a season where I could find balance in my work and my life as a mom, but for a while now I’ve been struggling to keep it all together, to juggle everything without dropping something.

It’s not working anymore.

I need to step away from the intensive work of editing and publishing so I can focus more on my family–especially my youngest, who is at my knee right now asking for another cheese stick and would I mind very much pretty please to play Tinker Bell with her when I’m done with my computer?

How can I say no? I can’t.

So here’s what that means: when she’s in school full time I’ll return to a publishing schedule. In the meantime, I’ll keep writing rough drafts and stashing them away. Hopefully I’ll have a nice little cluster of some decent stories to start sending into the world then, beginning with the final installment of the Shrilugh Saga.

You’ll still be able to find me here, and on FB and Twitter and all those places. 🙂

Here’s to savoring the moment,



The Leaves Will Fall


A collective rustle vibrated through the trees. Isaac opened his eyes to watch the Darkening.

A great breath – not wind, but an exhale that from the trees themselves – blew through the woods. The leaves began to quiver, their light shimmering and flickering, and in one instantaneous moment, they fell. The light dissolved into darkness as they fluttered to the ground. It only lasted a few moments, and soon the world around them had sunk into darkness.

The Darkening was complete.



Pick up THE DARKENING at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, or Smashwords.

Review THE DARKENING at any of those retailers, or at Goodreads.

Or, just come hang out with me on Facebook. ‘Cause, you know. The feels and stuff.




“Who sent you?” Isaac repeated, panting as well. Discharge didn’t only take its toll on its victims.

Knowing he’d pay for his silence, the Stranger remained resolute, determined not to give away anything that might deter his mission – Isaac Vidar knowing who sent him would likely cost him his life. He tried to brace himself, knowing what was coming as Isaac swung his arm once again, but it didn’t lessen the pain upon impact. The Stranger had known pain, had felt pain, in his seventy-six years, but he’d never felt pain like this. Unable to hold in the anguish from Isaac’s discharge, he cried out again, despite his best efforts not to.

“Who?” Isaac cried again, aiming this time for the Stranger’s unprotected stomach. “Who?”

It was excruciating; searing electricity coursed through his body from the point of impact. He was coughing up blood now; breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Isaac staggered back a couple steps; the Stranger could feel his eyes on him as his head sagged forward, gasping, trying to catch his breath. His mouth slacked open; he couldn’t seem to close it. Blood and spit dribbled down to his lap. How he’d ever find a way out of this situation was beyond him. Cursing inwardly, he berated himself for not being prepared to encounter the man who was rumored to be the girl’s father.

In that moment, in that thought, something prompted him to look up. He didn’t know what stirred him to do it, but as he did, he saw the very thing he was strapped to this chair, suffering, for. The girl.

She stood in the doorway, face aghast as she clutched a shirt around her so tightly her knuckles were white; her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders; her porcelain legs contrasted with the darkness of the hall behind her. But what took the Stranger most by surprise, what stopped his breathing and made the pain disappear for one miracle of a second, were her eyes. Her eyes pierced his, sending a jolt of electricity through him – not unlike Isaac’s blows, but without the pain.

In that moment, the Stranger’s world shifted. Those two eyes – one green, one silver – brought back out of the recesses of his memory the words of his mother, uttered years and years ago. In that moment, Rein Torvald, the Stranger tied to the chair, knew two things that just a few moments ago he would have scoffed at as impossible, were absolutely certain:

Æydan Csitrali, this woman who was barely more than a child, had unknowingly robbed him of his heart. And she would, he felt in the depths of his soul, be the death of him.


Get your copy of SHRILUGH: Book One of the Shrilugh Saga at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, or Smashwords.