Similarities of Dating and the Publishing Industry

In the dating world, when looking for a like minded person to spend time with on a relationship level one goes to bars, checks out dating websites and even asks their friends for ideas on potential suitors.  As a writer, set on entering the world of publishing, one finishes a manuscript then does pretty much the same thing. They attend confrences, troll writing websites and even ask fellow agented writers for advice on finding the perfect fit.

Once a like minded person is found, it then becomes the task of finding out if that person is interested in what you have to offer and vise versa. In publishing, a writer sends out a query letter in the hopes of peaking the agent’s interest and receiving a request for a full submission.

If both parties are interested in setting up a first date, then they spend time
preparing for the event by finding the perfect outfit, ideal setting, and a time to meet. In publishing, once the agent asks for a full the writer then frantically reads the manuscript in search of any errors to make sure the agent is receiving the best possible draft.

After the first date, at least one of the parties involved is left waiting for a
response from the other person. It could be days or even weeks sometimes. In the worst cases there is no response at all, leaving the rejected person feeling empty and lost, afraid to ever return to the dating pool. In publishing, the writer does this same waiting. Weeks, months may go by with no reply.

Once the waiting is over and there has been contact by one party to another, they decide on a second date. If the future dates go well, then marriage usually follows.  In publishing, if the agent likes the manuscript then they either ask for revisions or offer representation.

The couple agrees to terms of time and place for the wedding. They enter into a
contract to be together for life. In publishing, the agent sends the contract and sometimes there is negotiating on specifics, but an agreement is reached and the two are joined for the duration of the contract.

After the wedding and honeymoon, the couple must decide where to live. They
must also make sure there is a financial institution willing to take a chance on them and loan them the money to buy their dream home.  In publishing the agent and writer decide on a game plan and submit the manuscript to specific publishing houses with the hopes one of them will take a chance on an unknown writer and publish their book.

Once the couple finds the perfect house and is able to purchase it they move in
and begin their life together. For some children are an immediate desire. For others they want to wait until the time is right. So it is in the publishing world. Once a publishing house accepts the manuscript, they then decide if they wish to see more of the writer’s work.

Not all marriages are perfect, and many end in divorce. In publishing, agents and writers part ways as well, sometimes on good terms.

In life we all have different personalities and preferences, it’s finding someone
that shares these that is the hard part.

Good luck to all searching for that perfect match and happy writing.



Here’s a new Teaser for you all. It’s the first section of my newest WIP. I don’t have a title yet, but hopefully it will come to me soon… Please comment and tell me what you think.

The Funeral

The warm Texas sun beat down on the green canopy above me between passing clouds. Even in the shade I was beginning to sweat beneath my black sundress.  The wind blew just enough to send wafts of hideous smelling perfume across my face. I was thankful for my dark sunglasses, not because they protected my eyes from the peek-a-boo sunlight that bounced out from behind looming rain clouds but because they hid my eyes from the few people sitting around me. I didn’t know half of them and was not looking forward to standing at the end of the service and listening to more sympathetic words from strangers.

The metal chair beneath me cut into my back as I tried my best to get comfortable. I stared at the single white rose clutched in my hands. Its thorns were on the verge of piercing my skin. The words of the pastor were nothing more than mumbling to me. They entered my ears and didn’t register with my brain as actual words.
I want this to be done, over with, finished, so I can go home.

The pain in my chest had subsided for the moment, but I knew the moment I stood to do my part and place the rose on her lowering casket I would feel it again. A part of me wanted to climb inside with her and die so that we could be together again. I couldn’t though, it was bad enough that I was getting swamped with unwanted hugs from women I had never seen before. If I climbed onto her casket they would have me locked up as crazy.
The light squeal of car brakes broke through the mumbling of the pastor. I wanted to turn around and see who was showing up late, but thought better of it. Hopefully, it wasn’t another strangers. Maybe one of my friends, back from vacation early, had come to give me comfort.

What is it about funerals that bring long lost friends out of the woodwork?

I was back to staring at the rose. Its petals were beautiful, just like her, pure and perfect. The thorns reminded me of her strength. She had always been strong. The pastor stopped his mumbling and now stood beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
Guess this is my cue to get up and say goodbye.

I stood, on wobbly legs from sitting in the same position for too long, and made my way to the closed casket. A part of me wished it were open so I could see her face just one more time but the man at the mortuary, James, had said it would be better for everyone if it was closed. I stood at the side of the casket; its sleek black paint bounced the sunlight back onto me. A tear fell from my eye, running down my cheek. I didn’t think I had any more of them left. I had cried a lot in the last few days. Placing the rose to my lips I kissed it before setting it on the casket and resting my shaky hand atop it.
“Good bye Mom, I love you,” I whispered.


Here’s a snippet from ‘RISE OF THE WARRIORS’ It’s a short little fight scene where Violet gets to go up against the bad guys.  ENJOY!


Excerpt from pg. 124


“Finish him Gabe. I do not have time to waste on saving you again,” Levi said.
Gabe grasped Darius, wrapping his arms around him. He leaned his mouth to Darius’ throat, poised to bite.
“No!” Violet cried out.
Eric rushed to Darius’ aide, grabbing Gabe’s head and pulling him back. Gabe turned his focus on Eric.
“I should have killed you in the mausoleum,” Gabe said.
Violet watched in horror as Gabe grabbed Eric’s head with both his hands and twisted. The sound of bones snapping pierced her heart. Fury filled her as Eric’s body fell to the floor beside Gabe. She blasted Gabe with all her strength, sending him against the wall. Once he was pinned she reached her hand up, extending her fingers as his body reacted, stretching each appendage further apart until his arms and legs disconnected from his body. Gabe cried out in pain as Violet continued to stretch his neck further from his body until his head was separated and crashed into the ceiling. Blood dripped down the wall as she lowered her hand. Gabe’s torso thudded to the floor.
The anger was still boiling inside her. She turned her eyes to Levi. He stared at the remains of Gabe with horror. He had no idea Violet was capable of something that gruesome. He was proud in a strange way. She stalked toward Levi; Darius following close behind her. She was oblivious to anything except him. The soldiers continued to fight as more Night Children filed in the room. Vitus and Trevin fought along side them, making their way to Violet and Levi. It would take more than just her strength to finish him.
She pushed against his mind once more, sending Levi to the floor. He was strong, but her fury was stronger. Vitus saw his chance and used his mind to try and gain control of Levi’s. With the chaos and confusion all around them Levi was vulnerable.
“This ends now… Father,” Violet said as she pointed her sword at him.


Well, it’s been five months since my last teaser… Let’s see if I can still intrigue you guys. Let me know what you think.

In this scene Ana-el and Jake have just found Gavin and convinced him to shift back to human form.

The Sacrifices: Lycan Child

Excerpt from pg. 106

“How ya feeling, Gavin?”
He looked up at me, his chocolate eyes brimming with tears. My heart ached at the sad look on his face.
“Did they really take Mom and hurt Dad? Are they gonna be all right? It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t freaked out and ran from you the other day none of this would have happened,” he said.
His voice cracked as he took in a ragged breath and wiped his face with his hand. I had to find some way to comfort him, but he was right. If he had just listened to me we would be safe in Brynmar by now.
“It doesn’t matter now. There’s nothing that can be done about the past. Right now we need to think about getting you to your sister and then getting your mom back. That’s what’s important now,” I said.
The sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky with deep orange and pink clouds. The nighttime insects started to buzz their songs as we trekked through the fallen leaves. It would be a long walk back for Gavin, but there was no way Jake nor I was going to carry him. I led the way as Jake followed behind Gavin. The two of us keeping watch for any sign that something was following us or waiting to ambush our trio. Gavin stayed silent, undoubtedly beating himself up more for running away.
The wind blew through the trees sending my hair into my face. I tucked it back, wishing for a rubber band or something to tie it up with. It was eerie, the quiet of the woods. Our footsteps rustling through the underbrush was the only sound now. The crickets had stopped singing. Possibly because we were there and they felt threatened. Whatever it was I didn’t like it. I glanced over my shoulder to Jake. He had noticed the shift in nature as well. He scanned the trees above us, then back to meet my eyes. Something was wrong.


Here’s a bit more of my THE SACRIFICES: UNFORGIVEN series.


Excerpt from pg. 173

“Forgive me,” I whispered.

I felt Nightshade’s body go limp in my hands and slowly released my hold on him. He slumped lifelessly to the floor. Tears ran down my face as I pulled my arms back through the bars.

I had taken a life. I was filled with grief for what I had done.

I made my way to the door of the cage and stepped out to freedom. I forced myself not to look at Nightshade’s dead body. I focused instead on the sounds coming from the tunnel. They were getting louder.

“Where is she Pharzuph? You swore to me she was here and you would release her if I came alone. Take me to her now,” Eli was yelling and fighting with Pharzuph.

Laughter rang out loudly. “She’s right down there Eligor. Stop fighting and you’ll see your precious Anael.”

The sounds of struggling stopped as I heard grunts coming from the darkness. I stepped back against the wall and looked for a place to hide. If I could surprise Pharzuph it would give Eli just enough time to overpower him. I found another tunnel hidden behind a red curtain. Carefully I pulled the curtain back and peered into the darkness. Thankfully no one was in the tunnel and I slipped behind the curtain.

As I peeked out into the room I saw Eli enter. His face was bloody as Pharzuph shoved him forward, holding a whip in his hand. It cracked loudly behind Eli as he urged him further into the room.

“Where is she?” Pharzuph cried out.

He looked angrily at the cage and began to search the room. His eyes fell on Nightshade. A wicked smile crossed his face.

“Your precious one isn’t so innocent now Eligor. Just look at what she has done to poor Nightshade. I wager that she drained the Elf as well and hid his body somewhere around here. Anael, where are you?” he called out.

I wanted to rush into the room but stayed hidden when I noticed Ogres enter the room. They grasped Eli and placed him in the chair, strapping him down with silver bindings. It was just like what I had seen in the pool, I had to stop this, and I had to save him. Ouriel entered carrying a silver dagger.

“Good work Pharzuph, at least you didn’t screw this up. Where’s the girl?” he asked angrily as he looked to the cage.

Pharzuph cringed away from his furious glance. “She must have escaped. What does it matter now? We have Eligor, get on with it before the others make it down here.”

Relief rushed through me. There were others coming to help. Eli had gone ahead of them and now the Guardians would storm the cave and rescue us both. 

There was movement behind me now; I pressed myself against the wall. The footsteps grew louder as they approached. I was frozen. If I ran out now I would be caught by one of the Ogres. If I stayed here whatever was lurking in the shadows would capture me. I decided to take my chances with the Ogres. Hopefully the chaos would be enough to buy us some time. I thrust the curtain back and ran into the room. Ouriel looked up and smiled.

“Ah, Anael, how kind of you to join us. I was just about to skewer your little boyfriend. Now you can watch as his blood, breaks the first seal that will bring forth Beleth.”

Ogres surrounded me. I tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. For each one I knocked out of my path two more appeared. Eli struggled against the restraints as they sizzled into his skin.

“Yes, that’s it bleed, let you blood flow freely Eligor. Let it saturate the ground and begin the process. Beleth grows stronger with every drop,” Ouriel crooned.

He looked over to me as the Ogres closed in. They grabbed at my body, one of them made its way behind me and locked iron tight arms around me.

“Hold her there. I want her to watch,” Ouriel said as he inched closer to Eli.

I looked at Eli, the pain in my chest at the expression on his face was almost unbearable. He was staring at Nightshade’s body. I fought against the Ogre.

“Let me go! Eli, please fight him, you can do it. Get out of there.”

He looked back at me and shook his head; the sorrow in his eyes shot through me like a knife.

“Why Ana? What have you done?”

Teaser Tuesday 4-20-2010

Here’s another excerpt from the current WIP. 

 Comments and suggestions are welcomed. ENJOY!


excerpt from pg. 17

“So, what class is next on your list of dreaded senior year torture?” he asked.

“Art and then Spanish. The only two classes I don’t have to study like a crazy person to pass,” she said.

Eric grinned again. She loved the almost mischievous grin he had been giving her all day. The way his eyes twinkled, like he was plotting something deep in the back of his mind.

“Cool, then to art we go,” he said as he took the paper sack from her and tossed it into the trashcan as they passed.

“We, you mean you’re gonna be in there with me?” she asked.

Her heart pounded at the thought of spending more time with him. She had never allowed herself to imagine having a real boyfriend. With Eric though, she could see herself wrapped in his arms as he played with her hair. It was a long shot, she was sure of it, but it was still a nice thought.

“Yep, then I go to Orchestra,” he said.

She knew he was musically inclined; the slight calluses he had on his fingertips gave it away for her. She always noticed little things like that about people’s hands, mostly because she was always looking down instead of at their faces.

“What do you play?” she asked.

“Bass mostly, but I can also rock the cello,” he laughed.

They stopped in front of the art room and she noticed the other students already in their seats. She hadn’t heard the bell so she wondered if they were late. Eric took a seat at a large drafting table at the back of the room, waving her over to sit next to him.

“I’m special, I get to sit over here and do whatever while the rest of the sheep have to draw bowls of fruit.”

She took a seat beside him and waited for the teacher to make her move. Eric took out a sketchbook from beneath the table and flipped to a blank page. He set to drawing as Jordyn watched in amazement. His quick movements along the paper began to form a girl’s face. She realized as she continued to watch him that it was her face, without the scars. A tear began to form in her eye as she wished she really looked like the girl he drew. She wiped it away and dug in her backpack for her own sketchbook. It was filled with made up characters and creatures. She never knew where the ideas for them came from, but she was able to draw anything she imagined. Eric glanced over at her paper as she flipped through the book.

“You’re pretty good,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and dug out her pencil box.

“Yeah, but I suck at drawing anything real. I can only draw what I make up. If you asked me to draw that chair over there it would look like a five year old did it,” she said.

Eric chuckled and held up his drawing to her.

“A portrait of you. Do you like it?” he asked, that flicker of light in his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not really me,” she mumbled as she lowered her head and began to sketch.

“Sure it is. I just did your hair different,” he looked at the drawing them back at Jordyn. “I think you cover that pretty face of yours too much,” he finally said.

She didn’t want to state the obvious, that he left off her hideous scars, she wanted the drawing to be accurate; that her face was as flawless as he apparently saw it.

“It’s better that way, for everyone,” she said.

She wanted the conversation to change to something other than her face. Eric sensed her unease and flipped the page, starting a new drawing.

Teaser Tuesday 3-23-2010

Well here is a brand new teaser from a shiny new WIP.  This excerpt is from the very first few pages of the book. Let me know what you think.


excerpt from pg.1

Chapter 1

Jordyn sat on the floor, leaning over the windowsill watching the trail of smoke from her cigarette flow outside. The early morning air was cool on her face as she took another drag, trying to calm her nerves. The nightmare was always the same. Every time she started out in a new place it came to her. The memory from her childhood that she couldn’t escape. She stretched out her right hand, looking over the disfigured flesh that covered it. When she was younger she used to try and make out shapes from the scars, now she just stared at them. She glanced over her shoulder at the glowing alarm clock and sighed.

“Guess I need to get a move on,” she said, stubbing the fire of her cigarette out on the edge of the windowsill.

Her new room was nicer than the last one, she thought. The walls were painted deep red with black trim around the edges. She was thankful that this foster home wasn’t like the last.

“Well, Skittles, at least Glenda and Chris don’t seem too uptight. They haven’t tried to shove a bible down my throat or prayed for me yet,” she said.

Jordyn walked over to her bed, gently running her hand over the soft white fur of her ferret. He responded by lifting his head and nuzzling his nose into the palm of her hand.

“Not that it matters anyway right? Once I graduate I’ll be on my own.”

Skittles looked up at her before laying his head back down on the plush red pillow. She patted the top of his head once more before heading to her closet.

“You know, it could be a lot worse. Remember Bible thumping Betty and her pedophile husband Ray? Man I couldn’t wait to get out of that home.”

Skittles began cleaning himself, the small collar on his neck jingled as the tags bounced off of one another.

Jordyn liked to think that on some level Skittles understood everything she said. It gave her a sense of peace to think there was one being that understood her, even if it was a ferret. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt from the closet before walking out of the room, blowing a kiss to Skittles as he yawned.

“You go back to sleep. I have to get ready for school,” she grumbled.

The sounds of movement coming from the kitchen reminded her that Glenda was a morning person.

“Wonder how long she’s been up?” she said as she opened the bathroom door and closed it behind her.

The shower was refreshing; it seemed to wash away the last remnants of her nightmare. She stood under the warm water as it raced along her body. She couldn’t feel the intensity of the water on her right shoulder but she knew it was there. The scars that trailed up her right arm and onto her back and neck prevented her from feeling a lot of sensations. She could tell hot and cold, but anything like a gentle touch or rushing water felt like nothing to her. She finished her shower and stepped out onto the bright yellow floor mat.

The mirror over the sink was covered with steam from the shower. She wiped her hand across it and looked at her reflection. Her dark red hair clung to her face and neck. She pulled a towel from the cabinet and flipping her head down, wrapped it up around her hair. From the left she looked like a normal seventeen-year-old girl, but from the right she looked like a freak. At least that was what most people saw. The scars on her right side ran up her neck and onto her cheek, ending just below her eye.

She picked up the bottle of lotion and squeezed out enough to rub on her face. She had stopped trying to cover the scars with make-up years ago. It didn’t do any good anyway. Instead she opted to just wear her hair down over them, masking them as best she could. Today was going to be filled with stares and whispers, like every other time she had started out in a new school. Hopefully no one would find her interesting enough to bug her with a million questions about her scars. She pulled on her T-shirt and jeans and dried her hair with the towel.

“Well, this is as good as its gonna get,” she mused to her reflection.