It's been a crazy few weeks with me working on a new series and my daughter's dance season winding down for the year. As usual, when I'm stressed, my dreams take a strange turn. Here lately it's been all about River Phoenix.

Now when I say that, I don't mean I'm "dreaming" of River Phoenix. No, I'm dreaming out watching his movies or listening to the radio the day it was announced he died, or the latest is me reading the people article about his death. 

How crazy is that? I'm open to dream interpretation now...
​

This series just caught my attention and I'm already hooked!
​

For my contribution to #ManCandyMonday, I'd like to offer up Jamie Dornan. Can we all say yum?
​

As an author, I am all about social media. I love talking to readers, learning about new books, and discovering new authors. I keep my Facebook Page up to date and interact with my readers there, I post on Twitter and have actual conversations, but I am truly struggling with Instagram.

Now don't get me wrong, I love taking pictures. I love posting pictures of my surroundings, my work area, my research, and of course, my pets. But, I hate taking selfies!

One look through my Instagram profile and you can see...It's pretty faceless. Lots of trees, quotes, and dogs. The one thing you'll really have to search for is me. 

I don't know what it is really, but I just feel ridiculous mugging into my camera phone. I might take twenty pictures and still not get one that I like. Is this just me? Am I missing some "selfie gene"? Does anyone else feel this way?

I'm expanding my TBR list (again) and this time I'm adding more time travel romance. I've always been a huge fan of reincarnation romance and time travel romance seems like a close fit. My most recent purchase is True to the Highlander (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 1) by Barbara Longley. Have any of you read it yet?

​

Treachery rules the Highlands of 1423. With their king captured by the English, Scottish nobles plot to ransom James behind the back of the brutal regent holding their land in his iron grip. But not every clan wishes to see King James back on his throne…
Sitting atop this powder keg of bloodthirsty rivalries, Malcolm of clan MacKintosh takes the mysterious, lone maiden he finds along his road as a bad omen…though an undeniably beautiful one. When he attempts to save her from a rogue within his own garrison, she deftly brings Malcolm to his knees. Who is this willful lass who has so quickly laid siege to his heart?
Alethia Goodsky has met all kinds working at the New York Renaissance Festival, but no one like the fortune-teller who tasks her with a cryptic life-saving mission and flings her into the fifteenth century. Now Alethia must rely on her wits to unravel the mystery in this violent land. Malcolm has sworn to protect her, but her gifts may soon make her his protector. With enemies closing in, Alethia must choose between finding a way home…and remaining true to her Highlander.
​

I am a huge Outlander fan. So of course, my perfect #ManCandyMonday has to be Sam Heughan! Who is your #ManCandyMonday treat?
​

There has been lots of talk lately about Indie/Self Publishing versus Traditional Publishing and what exactly it is these two sides want, fair prices for indie and self published works, and the basic meaning of books in today's crazy world. Well, I can't speak for everyone, but let me make my stand clear.

So, here are just a few questions that I've had to answer more times than I care to count.

What do I want as an Indie Author? Honestly, I just want to write my stories, reach my readers, and make a living doing what I love. 

Do I care what path you take as a writer? Nope. 

Do I care what you think of my choice to be an Indie Author? Nope.

Do I realize most Indie Authors fail? Of course I do, but I could turn that around and say that most marriages end in divorce, but I'm not going to rake someone over the coals for getting married.

Don't you worry that "serious readers" won't take you serious? Who are these "serious readers" and why are they any different than the readers that are just looking for good read to relax with on a rainy day? I write for people that enjoy the type of work I produce...Anyone else is just a bonus.

Don't you hate how much some authors charge? Um...No. If I don't feel a book is worth it, I don't buy it.

That's about it, those are the questions I get hit with and those are my answers. Will another author's answers be different? Probably and I'm sure they couldn't care less. That's the great thing about being creative people, we are going to have different ideas and opinions.

Today's #TeaserTuesday comes from one of my Spiritus Series, to date still one of my favorite creations.

I watched him lurch off, trying to compose himself as he walked past the group of teachers by the door.  Even intoxicated, he was amazing to watch.  Jonah drew the admiring glances of every female he passed.  He was just so stereotypically high school perfect.

I had to laugh; he and I were like a bad movie.  The predictable one where the new girl, unpopular, falls for the school jock and then the jock takes her to the dance.  So that was it, tonight was my happy ending.  I didn’t want to think any further than that.

Happy endings never lasted.  I could vaguely remember a grand celebration where I danced with Alastor so long ago.  That was a very happy moment, but not long after that we were both dead.

“May I have this dance?”

I turned to see a much recovered Jonah holding his hand out to me.  Without a word, I placed my hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor.  His strong arms pulled me close, holding me against his body.

“My beautiful Becca,” He said in a moist whisper against my forehead.

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.  When I stole a glance up at him he had his eyes closed while his lips still rested against my hair.  I felt that there was something that I should say or do, but I didn’t know what it could be.  I shifted slightly away from him.

“Don’t.”  Jonah begged. 

Without opening his eyes, he lowered his lips to mine.  He brushed his mouth over mine with such gentleness that I wouldn’t have been sure that he even kissed me if it wasn’t for the tingling running through my body.

Neither of us moved, his lips hovered over mine.  He pulled me even closer, this time his lips lingered, making my knees go weak.  There was a sensual passion this time.  There was no trace of boyish clumbsiness.

I knew then and pulled away, terrified and not sure how he did it.

“Alastor!”  I gasped.

I looked up into Jonah’s face, searching his eyes for an answer, but behind his face, deep in the soul of those eyes was Alastor.

“How?”  Was all I could ask.

Pulling me close again, he looked down at me through another man’s eyes.  Images of old movies with tearful endings came to mind as he pulled me to him.

“Please don’t scream.”  He said against my hair.

“How did you do it?”  I demanded, nearing hysteria.

“Does it matter?”  He asked as we waltzed about the floor, so much more graceful than before.  “You asked for a kiss and I gave it to you.”

I tried to fend off panic.  I knew this was impossible.  I was shaking so badly that my teeth began to chatter.  “Alastor…I can’t…”

“Please,” Alastor begged.  “Please, you asked me to give you this one night.  I’m asking you to give me this one moment.”

My heart fell with his request and the tears came to my eyes.  I trembled in his arms.  How could I refuse him?

“What do you want me to do?”  I asked.

“Close your eyes.”  He whispered over my eyelids.

I did as he asked.  “Now what?”

“Just be.”  He said and lowered his face so our cheeks touched.  “Just be.”

With my eyes closed, I forgot all about Jonah.  I was dancing safe and secure in Alastor’s arms with my body remembering his touch even my mind sometimes couldn’t.  As long as I didn’t open my eyes, it was Alastor that was holding me close.  This is where I belonged.

“Kiss me again.”  I requested in a whisper, longing for the sensation of him touching me, of crossing that breach between life and death.

He took my face into his hands.  I kept my eyes shut tight as I reached up and covered his hands with mine.  The earth shifted beneath me as I remembered standing just like this the day that we were married over a century ago.
Alastor’s lips met mine, soft at first and then harder.  He was real.  He was alive. 

I wanted to feel his skin against mine.  I wanted his lips on my throat.  I wanted him.  It was a feeling that only the most primal part of me seemed to understand.

I kissed him again and again.  I kept my eyes shut tight and was afraid to let go.  I couldn’t breathe, part of me was still terrified and another part wanted to sob uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry.”  I whimpered, trying to hold on tighter.  “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He kissed me again and I knew that there would never be another.  There was only Alastor.  It was only Alastor that I loved.  It was only Alastor to whom I belonged.  It was Alastor to whom I was lost.
​
 

 My favorite example of #ManCandy is none other than Captain Hook himself...YUM! Lookie, lookie, here comes Hookie!
​