Yes, this is about murder mysteries that make us feel good—a paradoxical genre, if there ever was one. Stories that have us curling up with a hot cup of cocoa on a chilly day to solve a crime alongside our favorite quirky, clever, and often reluctant hero. Someone sort of like ourselves—but not quite—who lives in a sleepy seaside town (with an inexplicably high crime rate), owns a charming shop, or runs a cozy home business that puts them in the path of murder, prompting them to develop a heretofore unknown knack for solving crimes. Or maybe, they come with a background perfect for the job.
For all those feels we crave, there’s usually a bestie or group of besties, a clever or goofy pet, or a sexy detective on the way to becoming a lover—either helping things along or making life more complicated, or both—and a backdrop involving something we’ve wanted to try but never found the time for. Okay, so we make the time to read. Why not kill two birds with one stone?
Here are some of my favorites: knitting, crocheting, needlework, antiquing, baking, catering, bed-and-breakfast hospitality, a witch hosting a secret vampire book club in an attic above her shop, K-9 search and rescue, dog shows, dog sledding, and even a sentient cat and corgi detective duo who adore their clever human and life on a farm. Then there are the historical periods, and more exotic pursuits like Egyptology or archaeology. Have I intrigued you enough yet?
If you happen to be a person who hasn’t read a cozy mystery, here’s a list to get you started including many of those I alluded to above. You might also enjoy this brief blog on the history of the cozy genre and how it filled a niche.
Richie Billing covers the cozy genres in a conversation with authors Jami Albright and Sara Rosett, where they also talk about marketing a series, author branding, and book launches on The Fantasy Writer’s Toolshed. I hope you find it as enjoyable and informative as I did.
Thank you for visiting and supporting an indie author. For more cozy reading, check out my paranormal romance novels at bydllewellyn.com.
I have been looking forward all summer to my conversation with this amazing romance author. GiGi Meier not only has three sizzling hot standalone novels in her Cañon Series that I’m enjoying, but she is a tireless supporter of indie authors. Let’s Go Live! with GiGi Meier is an exciting prospect for any writer. I got to join her there Thursday and it was a blast!
To get us started, I’m sharing GiGi’s own words about her writing process, which we will delve into in our discussion.
I dream and write. I daydream and write. I have nightmares and write. See a general theme? I find inspiration everywhere in overheard conversations, magazine articles, social media posts, stunning photographs, and occasionally my own life interactions. Ideas, dialogue, characters, and voices swirl about my mind. It’s magical, unique, and indescribable. Sometimes it’s even lightning in a bottle. The words flow faster than I can type. Then one day, the magic stops, and my mind becomes cluttered with real life. Worry, doubt, anxiety, and insecurity move in. I call them the troublesome foursome…
That is so spot on, GiGi! Before we get more into the day in the life of a dark romance author hinted at above, I’d like to talk about your books.
I’m finishing up Tomlin and can’t wait to read the next installment in Takahashi, but I’m really looking forward to Hamilton’s story in Hamilton because I was ready to know him better as soon as he appeared in Tomlin.
First, you can enjoy getting more acquainted in Hamilton.
Here’s what one reader says about Tomlin:
Really compelling story that I couldn’t put down! Sometimes I wasn’t sure if I even liked Dani, but I love her unapologetic way of being who she wants to be.
Robert Weaver
I selected this because it’s what I’m feeling about Dani. She is a spitfire with a huge chip on her shoulder and a bit much for me, but I keep reading because I want to see what Tomlin sees and you’ve given us enough nuggets to know she has much more to offer under all that bluster… and because their interaction is superbly crafted right from the beginning… and because I want to see what she does with her amazing auto restoration skills. Having spent a day with friends and her stock red 72 Chevy C-10 and his restored red 55 T-Bird convertible at Hot August Nights made that particularly relevant for me. But I digress…
Give us your take on your novels and the dark romance genre they dwell in. What inspired you to write romance? Also, how did you go about giving Dani her expertise in auto restoration?
GM. I love LOVE. As cheesy as it sounds, I love people falling in love, fighting to stay in love, and sometimes losing love. The journey to find love can be dark and moody in my books, as people deal with their past experiences or life trauma that prevents them from feeling worthy of love. I like exploring that theory in my characters, as it’s similar to real life.
I have a very good friend that does car restoration. In fact, he tore down a tennis court to build a warehouse to store all his restorations. After seeing his projects and driving past a restoration place in a small town in Texas, Dani was born. Although my friend and Dani couldn’t be more different, he is very mellow and never cusses.
DLL. Love is never cheesy in my book, so long as it comes in nice dark settings, fantasy or otherwise. I get a sugar overload if I try to watch anything on the Hallmark channel. 😉
I knew there was a great story behind Dani’s creation. Thank you so much for sharing that.
One of my favorite questions is how did your life morph into that of a writer? Everyone has their unique story and I love putting as many out there as possible to inspire our audience, which might include those who want to get started on their own writing journeys.
GM. I LOVE this question! I was celebrating my thirtieth year in corporate America, having reached the top of my profession. I looked at my colleagues, equal in position but mostly twenty to twenty-five years older than me, and thought this will be my life if I continue on this path. Tragically, one of my colleagues passed away on the job, having never enjoyed the retirement his hard work over decades afforded him. Between these two realizations, I peered into two possible futures I could have and thought, I’m not going to die with my music inside. I’m going to pursue my dream of becoming a romance author and left the industry at the end of 2021.
DLL. That is truly inspiring. How long have you harbored that music?
GM. Oh jeez, I was thinking about that the other day and I wrote a children’s series over twenty years ago that has never seen the light of day. I had forgotten about that until my sister reminded me. Instead of following my dream then, I put in another twenty years in corporate America.
Who or what is your biggest influence/inspiration?
GM. Inspiration comes to me in all forms. Interactions with friends and family, my dreams, strangers I encounter when running errands, musical lyrics, and other books. I find people fascinating because everyone has a story to tell. They are a culmination of their past, hopes, dreams, lifestyle, experiences, choices, and beliefs. It provides more ideas than I can write.
Who are your top three favorite authors?
GM. Oh my, there are so many good authors. It’s hard to pick just three. I mainly read in romance, fantasy, and self-help genres, but I will occasionally cross over into suspense, thriller, and biographies. When reading fiction, I’m a sucker for witty banter, clever descriptions, and thought-provoking stories. When reading non-fiction, I want to learn something new or discover a gem I can implement in my life. I want to be a lifelong learner.
I’m sensing you have a few books stacking up in your WIP pile. What’s next for your fans?
GM. Jeez, if I could download my brain, that would be amazing because I have so many ideas. I have ten novels in various states, but none are scheduled for the next two years. I love the cast of characters in The Cañon Series, and once Hamilton releases on 9.1.23, Isla’s novel is up next with an early 2024 release.
I planned six books in the series. Isla will be the 4th, followed by Rico and then Lars. I’ll be sad when the series ends next year, as I feel like they are my family. I’m considering doing a monthly mini-story for readers as they want more of Dani and Tomlin’s story. It would be cute to see them at Christmas or read how he did at his final Olympics from Dani’s POV.
DLL. Absolutely fantastic. And I know what you mean about saying goodbye to your book family. I also really enjoyed that part of our interview on “Let’s Go Live” about waking up in the middle of the night with ideas or scenes playing out in our heads that we have to capture somehow before we lose them. That’s been a constant feature in my life since I started writing. I’m not complaining. It’s been amazing!
Can’t wait for all these to get out in the world, Gigi!
Do you also write short stories?
GM. I don’t write short stories. My romance novels are well over 120K words. However, as a palette cleanser, I’m starting a novella series about older women and younger men that will be exclusive to Amazon. It will be a fun, lighthearted change from the darker, longer books in The Cañon Series. More to come on that!
DLL. Okay. First off, that’s an amazing amount of writing. Second. Now I’m going to have to be looking out for those delightful romance nuggets!
Are there other writing projects you dream about, or other genres you’d like to try? Where do you see yourself as a writer in ten years?
GM. I’m such a planner that I have three, five, and ten-year goals. I’m super nerdy like that. If I could wave a wand, and all would be true, it would look like this. Writing stories that resonate with people, where they change their life somehow, and I get to meet them at book conferences and signings to hear how my characters helped them. I’d continue interviewing authors, book bloggers, editors, and anyone in the indie world to help support, promote, and educate new and upcoming writers interested in pursuing their dreams. It would be magical if my books were made into movies so the stories and characters could reach non-readers and positively impact their lives. At the end of the day, I want to help and serve others through the written word, and however else I can use my gifts to make a better literary world.
DLL. Sounds to me like you not only wake up with scenes in your head but plans! Nice… I’ll be checking back to see how your fabulous goals are coming along.Dani would def make a great movie character.Have you thought about who you would want playing her?
GM. Interestingly enough, I have not. However, my readers have ! Boy, oh boy they have strong opinions about who should play her and DM on my social media to share. It’s hilarious. I’ve gotten everything from Margot Robbie to Britney Spears.
Can you share a little about how you got your books published, found a cover designer, beta readers, editors? That sort of thing. I feel like you might have a team put together. Is that the case? And what advice can you share about assembling one or assembling your resources?
GM. This has been the biggest challenge in my author journey. It’s daunting to publish a book. It seems like a thousand steps, and the process completely overwhelmed me. The journey is so varied that no two authors tackled it the same way. That’s where I got overwhelmed, bought a lot of different courses, and sadly, paid vendors that didn’t perform. It’s part of the learning process and one of the reasons I started my weekly Let’s Go Live! with GiGi Meier series on Instagram to bring interviews with other authors to share their journey to publishing. They are over an hour and packed with gems so listeners can garner new ideas that resonate with them or discover things they want to try.
The book community on Instagram is very supportive, and I found my cover designer, editor, beta readers, and street team on the app. In my experience, if I call for help, I get a good response, with many people from the book community willing to share and connect me with the right people. I’ve been fortunate to have made wonderful new friends who love and support my books and characters like I do. It’s a blessing.
DLL. This is exactly why I love asking this question. Like you said, everyone has their unique journey and the more journeys we share, the more someone will find something that will help them on their own path. I’ve been waiting to hear from someone who utilizes the amazing services for cover designers, arc readers, and editors I see on Instagram or social media because I’ve been hesitant about reaching out myself. And I totally get what you’re saying about wasting money on promised help from vendors who fall short. It’s a morass of pitfalls mixed with the real gems out there. Having a community to vet things through is key.
Your story is encouraging. Thank you!
On the marketing side of things (your website is phenomenal, by the way), do you participate in book signings, or otherwise get out and meet your readers? For instance, conventions or other events.
GM. Awww, thank you! It’s been a learning experience, and I think I have a degree from YouTube in how to build and update a website. I’d love to do conventions and have attended them in the past before COVID. This sounds terrible, but I haven’t been since. I must add that to my to-do list as many are booking for next year.
DLL. I often wonder how differently my book introduction might have gone if I’d had the opportunity to do the old-fashioned book store, library signing circuit. It’s something I keep in the back of my mind for someday. I wrote a blog about my uncle Lauran Paine who became a published author in the 40s. I wanted to compare the industry during his time through his eyes as a prolific author with now, and it was a super fun piece to capture in a blog.
I think COVID changed the industry in good and bad ways. The supernatural fantasy genre really took off for one thing as readers needed exciting ways to escape, and so many authors made their debut. I may not have been able to go out and peddle my books when I launched them, but I would never have started writing without the restrictions placed on us by the pandemic giving me the impetus to read tons of supernatural fantasy fiction and develop a burning desire to follow in those writers’ footsteps.
I’ll take the opportunity here to provide the tip of my 2020 reading list: Two of my favorites who inspired the more recent surge, Stephenie Meyer (Twilight) and Charlaine Harris (True Blood). And the surge… Cassandra Clare, Laura Thalassa, Kresley Cole, Stephanie Hudson, Jeaniene Frost, Ilona Andrews (husband/wife team), Grace Draven, and for paranormal romance with humor and spice, Carrie Pulkinen.
You have such a fun, energetic vibe on Instagram. What got you started on your Let’s Go Live feature? What advice can you share about social media engagement? And what are your key benefits/ takeaways in chatting with authors and sharing your videos on YouTube?
GM. You’re so sweet, and I’m very relieved to hear that. Social media is challenging as you want to connect with your target audience, but it’s subject to the algorithm. I genuinely enjoy connecting with people and hope that shows. Connecting is what got me started going live on Instagram and the desire to create friendships with beautiful people all around the world. How neat is that!
Whether discussing my books in comments or DMs or supporting other authors as they market their books, I love it all. I try to have a good variety of posts about my books, author interviews, and recent live writing sprints. It’s important to meet people where they are, and social media is it for me. My biggest advice is to do what is natural for you when creating and posting content and enjoy the process, as it’s a long game.
DLL. Good advice. You were brave going live to the world, but I’m glad you’re out there for us. 😊
I decided to love what I’m sharing in my posts first, algorithms or not, because it’s a creative outlet for me, and I started my Instagram journey as a crafter and planner sharing those creativities. Writing was just one more outlet I tacked on to a list of them. I find it fascinating to see such a huge variety of aesthetics on users’ accounts either by design and careful content selection or because their tastes and personalities come through organically.
Now, let’s get into your writer’s life. When the “troublesome foursome” are not plaguing you, how and where do you like to spend your time creating? What is your process? Do you have favorite tips or techniques for getting your creativity flowing?
GM. I write every day, some days are brutal, and others are creative, flowing magic. It bothered me that everything wasn’t creative genius out of the gate, but that’s unrealistic. You can always rewrite and edit a brutal writing session. Sometimes, a better idea presents itself during those rewrites. I think about my story all the time, what the next scene would be, did the characters respond how I thought they would, or do I need to change something in the last scenes. Some days I write. On other days I dictate.
I find my best creative flow dictating when I’m outside, staring up at the trees, and the story flows through me. Now dictating means a lot of editing as I don’t always speak clearly, and then I’m like, what the heck??? But at least the story is coming out, and I can fix it from there.
DLL. You are the first person I’ve talked to who uses dictation! That is so awesome. Makes me want to try it. And when you say brutal, are you talking about writer’s block or other challenges when things aren’t otherwise magical?
GM. Brutal as in writing blocks or the words don’t flow as artistically as I want, then doubt and worry creep in that I’m losing the story or it’s not intriguing enough. Sometimes brutal can mean, being at the bottom of the daunting mountain of writing another book. It’s a labor of love, that us writers pour our hearts into and when it’s completed, I’m at the top of the mountain, enjoying a breathtaking view of where my blood, sweat and tears has gotten me. Once the book is released to the world, it’s no longer mine. It belongs to the readers, and it’s back to the bottom of the mountain to make the journey once again.
DLL. That is a great analogy. Thank you for digging into that tough aspect of a writer’s life.
Time management is such a challenge for us all. What tips do you have for balancing the foursome with pursuing your creative passion?
GM. I use Timular. (not a paid promotion, haha). It’s an app that keeps me accountable for my time. I created over fifteen categories to monitor how much time I’m spending per activity to measure my productivity. Leaving the confines of corporate America, I had to implement some structures for myself not to be an amoeba all day and actually get some books written.
I also set weekly goals, some repetitive, others one-time, to keep me on track to meet my goals we discussed in the earlier question. They are tracked in a paper planner with stickers and different color pens because I need the validation to add my check marks or notes of what changed on the goals or if I decided not to do them and why.
DLL. Fantastic. I love talking to super organized people and so wish I could stick to a system with my planners. But like my stories and writing schedule, they’re stuffed with everything but organization. 😉
I’m wondering if you follow YA Fantasy author Sarra Cannon’s YouTube channel, Heartbreathings?
For our readers: Sarra is up to 472 videos with a wealth of content on productivity and a writer’s life, covering a variety of planner systems and providing tips and challenges on what to do with those stacks of pretty notebooks. (These are a few of my Hobonichis.)
GM. I’m an avid subscriber to her channel and even joined her Publish and Thrive course, but haven’t made it through all the modules yet.
DLL. I knew it! Awesome!
This has been a blast, Gigi, and I wish you the best. Any parting words of advice for those who would like to pursue their creative passions?
GM. Believe in yourself when no one else does. If you are lucky to have a strong support system, you’re already ahead of the game! If you don’t, and many people fall into this category with negative home lives, non-supportive spouses and family, or naysayers whispering into their fears and doubts, join Bookstagram. You will find like-minded individuals who will not only root you on but care for you simultaneously. Everyone is worthy of pursuing their dreams, and everyone is worthy of the happiness that achieving their dreams brings. Be brave, step out with careless abandonment, and pursue yours. Don’t die with your music still inside you!
Thank you!
Follow Gigi at gigimeier.com, YouTube, Instagram, and on Goodreads to keep posted on her new releases. So much is coming your way from this dark romance writer! Leave us your questions in the comments, and thanks for joining us.
I leaned forward again and repeated my question. “Halil Enair, do you admit shooting Ozzy Pruitt with illegal dark magic, locking him in his owl form, and causing him to slip into a coma?”
Recalling my helplessness and nearly losing Ozzy had me clenching my jaw. But we both survived, and two of the offenders below me risked their lives to help. One was the woman eyeing me steadily. She straightened her shoulders, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Yes. I shot your owl spy, Michael Elliott.” She drew out my name, snark in tact. It still sounded amazing in her husky voice. “I knew the weapon could have killed him. As I explained the first three times, anyone with you was to be treated as collateral damage.” I raised an eyebrow. No less damning, but I had to give the woman credit for sticking to her brazen honesty.
If I learned anything about Halil Enair, it was that although she might speak impulsively, every word had a purpose or was meant to provoke a specific reaction, and the little bee loved to sting. Was I giving her what she wanted? I doubted it. I hadn’t been an alpha this long without mastering my reactions to goading, yet I sensed my fellow alphas’ eyes on me. I upped the sternness of my glower.
“I admitted my actions five times,” Halil continued. “Heizan and I explained to the investigators no less than seven times the workings of my father’s dark magic weapon and his orders to bring you to him. I admitted three times to participating in your torture, describing in lurid detail every act I inflicted on you. Would you like me to repeat those details a fourth…” she cleared her throat, “and fifth time?”
If her hands were free, one would rest on her cocked hip, although the gesture might reveal her slight tremor. I also had another quirk to add to what I was learning about Halil Enair. She quantified things to make her point and didn’t like landing on even numbers. Interesting.
“We can skip…” I started to drawl. She interrupted.
“You blushed each time I illustrated my… creativity in handling certain of your parts. You’re doing it again.” And there was that deliciously throaty voice from that nightmare cavern. “You must feel those cheeks flaming hot like your swoony eyes tend to do when your dragon is riled. You aren’t used to getting red in the face, are you, Alpha?” How did she do that? Turn that sting into allure, her exaggerations into truth.
Her inscrutable amethyst gems, framed by thick blonde lashes, beckoned me like a siren with an irresistible song, and everyone but us might have vanished from this chiseled-out crater. Being alone with Halil Enair in the desert didn’t seem like such a terrible idea…
I gritted my teeth, and the insanity passed. She continued in her smug, honeyed tones. “I promised on that godsforsaken island to submit to an accounting of my crimes. I kept my promise. Now, let’s get on with the sentencing. I’m tired of standing here, getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”
Halil Enair
I swiped at the irritating copper cuff with my toes. Flush against my skin and feeling more like silk than metal, I hardly noticed it was there except for the incessant hum. I scoffed. The Council thought their magic band would hamper my abilities. I had different ideas that I hadn’t tested because a small part of me wanted to atone. Another part wanted to know how long I could stick it out without cheating, and part of me couldn’t stand disappointing a certain alpha, even if I did think he was arrogant.
I bit back another huff and glanced across the table. The lovebirds were busy canoodling, so I dished out our casserole. Next, I uncorked the wine and poured it into etched crystal glasses—a ritual I’d come to enjoy as much as our post-dinner cribbage games.
That surprising new pastime got me thinking of the more profound reflections I’d engaged in since moving to Ketchikan. Yeah, go figure. I, live-on-the-edge Halil, was having insights. While my frustrations often overwhelmed me, I admitted that my probation, or exile of shame, was serving its purpose, helping me realign my life and embrace the concept of having choices.
I could even acknowledge that the alpha, who suffered the worst from my actions, seemed fine with letting me denounce him as my jailer, as if he understood my need for a bullseye with broad shoulders. Gods, get your mind off that mouthwatering physique, Halil. Still, the analogy illustrated the soul of an alpha—the willingness to shoulder responsibility for so many. But then he did something that made me wonder if there was more to it.
Michael Elliott had attached the monitor to my ankle himself, sealing it with his dragon’s magic while my Aunt Magdalene took care of my brothers.
His face was fascinating to watch as I fidgeted and jerked, jumping up to complain, sitting back down, and fidgeting again just to see that fine, darkly stubbled jaw clench in… well, I’d hoped it would be irritation. Instead, the alpha looked amused. I can still see that glimpse of his tantalizing smile and the glint in his deep midnight-blue eyes. Eventually, I sat still long enough to let him finish, mostly to enjoy gazing at his luxuriant blue-black hair as he knelt at my feet.
Challenging him seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m sure I came off as a sullen adolescent. I couldn’t stand to make our probationary arrangement easy or give him that oddly intimate power over me: an untenable outcome and the hardest to swallow. Yet, I had the same question every time I went down this path: how could he smile at all after what I had done?
Spero Vic
After sitting half the bloody day in a hazy corner of the Juniper’s Hollow, broiling next to the fire and nursing too many beers while I waited for my mark to show his hairy dwarf face, I was itching to toss a chaos spell into the middle of the crowd to break the monotony. It didn’t help that my butt ached like a mother. Why did pubs never have cushioned seats when the entire goal was to keep their patrons engaged in prolonged alcohol consumption?
As if the hard oak wasn’t bad enough, I was forced to cram my long legs into awkward angles to fit them beneath the shrunken booth.
A shrill laugh pinged off my frayed nerves, and I closed my eyes. The Woody Woodpecker impersonator at the bar was going to be my first victim. Shit.Cartoons?What would pop into my head next? Disrupting the cheer careening around the low-ceilinged oak-beamed tavern was gaining traction as a workable idea.
The hours enduring pipe smoke, beer fumes, burning candles, and dwarf sweat had triggered a throbbing in my left temple. I needed relief, but drawing attention was out of the question. So, I distracted myself with thoughts of the luscious redheaded hellion I’d left snoring in my bed at dawn after borrowing her portal key to hop into this realm… illegally. It wasn’t often that my schemes lined up with a night of acrobatic sex. Unfortunately, I was so over this vigil that my most lurid moments with Ursula weren’t even doing it for me.
My empty stomach clenched, reminding me I hadn’t consumed anything but the dwarves’ superior version of German beer since yesterday. Shit! F##* hunger, f*#% nerves, f%*# Ursula. Meeting the dwarf and talking him out of the thing I’d come for was the only way to satisfy the hollow pit in my stomach, the gnawing ache I’d lived with for too many rune-cursed months.
I was about to run a hand through my hair but remembered just in time to keep both hands wrapped around my tankard, pretending to enjoy my tepid beer. My glamour kicked ass, easily concealing a tall human dressed in a duster loaded with rune magic in a room full of stout patrons who barely topped five feet. However, after so many hours fighting hunger and boredom, it was becoming harder to maintain. I needed to hold it together until Larin Birch sauntered through that oak plank door.
Was it too much to expect a regimented dwarf to stick to his schedule? Had someone gotten to him? I just need to get what I came for, return home, and slip the key around Ursula’s lovely neck before she wakes. Then, I’ll rouse the dryad and send her back to her forest, her memories as hazy as her missing hours.
This plan had been weeks in the making, and this was only the first step, one of many in a series of progressively crazier moves still ahead, which was nothing new for the “batshit-crazy rogue mage intent on his purpose,” as another surprisingly astute lover had said, stumbling out of my apartment, laugh-crying and shaking her head. A night with me between silk sheets often resulted in blissful disorientation and colorful slurs against my character, even from the powerful supernaturals I typically went for.
All but one. A shapeshifter with man-killer instincts: Halil Enair, an especially memorable dalliance, who won’t be pleased to see me on her doorstep. Unfortunately for her, she had a crucial role to play in my scheme.
I unclenched my jaw and took a few deep breaths. No one needed to hear my teeth grinding. Still… “Just a little chaos,” I mumbled, running my hand down my coat sleeve to soothe the marks pulsing hot on my skin. “They won’t know it came from me.”
Lauren’s happiness is shattered when the compulsive need to retrieve her comb lets her overhear a conversation between the two most important people in her life.
###
If Lauren hadn’t gone back for her comb, her world would still be vertical, not slanting horribly sideways.
She clutched at the door of the stall with a shaky hand and held her stomach with the other, hoping to keep down the bile trying to explode to the surface. The only thing stopping her from giving in to the tilt and collapsing on the public toilet floor was the public toilet. Someone had neglected to flush it. Lovely.
Desperate to gulp in air from somewhere other than the fetid space shrinking around her, she used every ounce of her willpower to get the door open and stumble out of the bathroom.
She pulled herself together enough to sweep past the lockers without drawing attention and slipped through the back door of the cycling studio. There, she leaned against the wall under the pink-tinged blue sky and focused all her energy on breathing. How can the day be so bright when my world has gone dark?
As her heart settled its erratic pounding, she became aware of something digging into her hand, and she stared at the purple object she’d clutched through the whole awful episode. Her favorite comb. A bubble of hysteria escaped her lips. Hot tears threatened next, and that’s when she got angry. Was everything a lie? Could I be that blind?
The act of shoving the comb in her bag brought forth a bitter irony. She would still be blissfully ignorant if not for her compulsion to rescue such a trivial possession. She let out another embarrassing squeak of hysteria and glanced around the parking lot to make sure she was alone. Alone.
That hated word rang in her head and brought tears to the surface again. She let a few drops slip out and straightened, smoothing her Lycra shirt over her bike shorts.
Then, Lauren walked purposefully to her car. The private conversation that had precipitated the nauseating tilt to her universe played through her head as she climbed in.
It was a cool day, so she sealed herself inside, clicked on the power, blasted her favorite XM station, and let herself belabor the truth she could not unhear. James and Danika were passionately in love, with no reservations, in a way that left Lauren with no reason to believe it was a passing thing. When did it happen?
That didn’t matter because it was clear she had just lost the love of her life and her best friend in one moment of fateful eavesdropping. The devastating truth had been revealed because her comb had slipped from her bag and landed near a vent, which turned out to be the perfect sound conductor to the door of the men’s locker room.
Her thoughts took her again to the horrid moments when she crouched in that dingy spot under the sink, which capsule of time was now burned into her memory.
As she reached for the wayward piece of plastic, familiar honeyed tones floated to her.
“Please… James.”
In the loaded pause that followed, the first cracks had formed in Lauren’s illusion of happiness because she could hear lips traveling over soft skin, so clear the pair might as well be standing right in front of her. She could even feel those lips—because she knew them.
The voice repeated the words as if the speaker were trying to get Lauren’s attention.
“Please, James… She’s just down the hall. We need to be careful until we can figure out a way to break this to her. It’s going to crush her.”
“She’ll see the truth of it, Danika. We’ve been hiding this for too long, and it’s unhealthy—for all three of us. It’s time.”
“But James. We’re all she has. How can we do this? I love you, and I want to spend my time with you openly, but I love her, too.”
There was regret in his sigh and the words that followed.
“If she cares about us, and you know she does, she won’t be selfish. We didn’t ask for this to happen and even tried to stop it.”
More sounds of passion punctuated his angst while they drove nails into Lauren’s heart.
“It will hurt at first,” James continued, “but she’s a reasonable human being. We can’t continue living a lie and wasting our lives trapped in the wrong combination.”
Danika’s breathless voice rose slightly. “You’re delusional if you believe this won’t ruin the friendships we’ve treasured since high school. You’ve known her the longest. Do you really think she’ll stick around after our betrayal?”
That was when Lauren reached her threshold of pain, when the bile started its molten rise to her throat, choking her, and her first reaction was to head to a toilet. At least she was past that first ugly moment.
The music blasting from her car speakers helped her think. She became aware that the clear skies had turned to rain. It seemed appropriate to be surrounded by rivulets of water—like tears. Lauren’s skin was clammy, and she touched her stiff face with icy fingers. Is this what shock feels like?
The only positive thing she could glom onto was that she’d made it to her car without being noticed. She sank deeper into her leather seat to make her presence less obvious and rubbed at her sore heart. How was she going to face them again?Should she confront them? She didn’t see that going well. She would make a fool out of herself and accomplish nothing.
The unreality kept reverberating. James had been her best friend since kindergarten. He understood her better than anyone, even Danika. They were aware of their importance in her life. The three of them had been inseparable for the last five years, working, partying, traveling together, and cycling twice a week at this studio she would never be able to return to.
Her resentment flared. They were the ones who hid behind their lies. It should have been them facing her and suffering through a confession. But her heart wouldn’t hold onto the anger, filling instead with hollow devastation, even as she attempted to contemplate a different future. Could I leave this place? Could I start over somewhere else?
None of them had lived anywhere but this small town. She doubted she even had the skills to make new friends or find a new lover because she had only ever needed the two people she left whispering together in the studio.
She texted Danika with trembling fingers. The screen of her phone blurred through the stubborn tears she could no longer stem. It took her a few minutes to reread her message before she sent it. It was important to get it right because she did care deeply for them and always would. “I’m not feeling well, my love. I’ll see you at home later. Enjoy dinner out with James—for both of us.”
This drama came from a NYC Midnight writing challenge where I needed to incorporate a comb and a cycling studio. Keep in mind that these short story platforms are challenging not only because of the random prompts and genres but also because they must be written in a short format in a short period. I was pretty happy about my little love triangle and the impact on Lauren’s life just from dropping her comb.
Hundreds of amazing romance titles are free April 22 at RomanceBookLovers.com. Enjoy the day filling your e-readers, then find that cozy niche and let romance take you over. ☕💟☕
Week Long Sale!
While I am offering Tigris Vetus for FREE (scroll down for its latest review), I never participate in an exciting #RomanceBookBlast event without offering my other books at special prices. Enjoy shopping Amazon for all five books this week, four of them on sale.
This month marks one year since Tigris Vetus was released into the world, concluding The Starlight Chronicles’ epic paranormal romance.
When I set out to write my first novel, I had no idea Selena’s story would expand into three volumes. Finishing Book Three was a huge accomplishment for me as it took twice as long to write as the previous two books put together. I wanted it to be… well, epic… and romantic, and different from other paranormal romances that I’ve read and loved. I hope you find awesome things to love about this series, too.
To celebrate, I’m giving away a signed copy of Tigris Vetus on Instagram.
Scroll for details on the giveaway and the series, including a character sketch of Aviel Enair, the anti-hero you will hate to love in The Starlight Chronicles.
Tigris Vetus
When destiny gives you three paths, choose the fourth.
I doodle this in my art journal because it seems like the answer to my riddle. Some say having choices is a good thing, but I’ve learned that three possible roads to the future lead to confusion and heartache.
It all started when I shot an alien prince on a highway near Lake Tahoe. Well, to be honest, it began when I met a towering man with chestnut eyes who captured my heart despite his best efforts to keep me out of his dangerous world.
Andras is my mate, but he’s compelled by fate to team up with a rival alpha to support my prophetic mission. Elliott and his pack are family now, and Elliott looks at me the same way Andras does. Both men tug on my heartstrings—and that’s not my biggest problem.
After a battle with said alien prince, we regroup at my brother’s fishing lodge in Ketchikan. I haven’t seen Dylan in years. There’s a reason for that, which makes me sadder than even our separation. Then, my vampire friend enlists my help on a mission. When Andras finds out, I discover what happens when you poke an angry bear.
I’m about to make it worse when my instincts urge me to leave my bear and my dragon to follow the ancient tiger, aka the alien prince, to his lair—my third path in a destiny of choices marked by the moon goddesses of Anurash. ~ Selena Aires
Ursus Borealis, Book One
Why not get started at the beginning with Ursus Borealis? Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited, or grab a beautiful paperback.
Ursus Borealis
Bears are supposed to live in the woods, just not the kind who send you to the moon.
Selena Aires
I promised my friend in his final days that I would find the place I was destined for. Neither of us had a clue what that meant, but searching for it after he’s gone helps me cope with my grief, and I pack up my art supplies and hit the highway. When I stop for gas in Quincy, Thomas is waiting for me—in spirit. So, I stay—and find my dream cottage with a studio and hiking trails out the back door and a quaint old tavern called the Starlight with a cozy booth in the corner. I set out my sketchbook and pencils and get busy drawing faces—my way of getting to know people while I enjoy a beer.
It works. I’m making friends and filling my journal with the kind of diverse characters typical of a crossroads pub. But diversity doesn’t explain why the people coming to life on my pages are the stuff of fairytales. The most fascinating is Andras Johns, and I’m wondering more often whether the towering man who sets me on fire with one look is the prince in the story or the beast lurking in the woods.
Andras Johns
I’ve been the alpha of the North Star Pack long enough to know better. My policy? Never mix it up with a human and risk exposing a vulnerable species to the hazards of my world. But there’s a new face in town. A beautiful, human face. What do I do the first time Selena Aires gives me her smile? I smile back. It’s a mistake—and I know I’m done for, which is a problem because an alpha can’t break his own rules.
And those hazards I mentioned? They just ramped up. The tempting Ms. Aires couldn’t be more off-limits. If only she didn’t have her own ideas about that.
My latest YouTube video is up! Enjoy a video teaser on my new release with an audio clip from Les Romances des Trois on Google Play Audio. Enjoy! And please like and subscribe. You never know what tidbits I might come up with next.
You are getting the first official announcement of my new wraparound covers for The Starlight Chronicles, paranormal romance adventure!! Scroll to see how beautiful they will be on a bookshelf! Thank you for celebrating with me.
I am super excited to bring these pretty babies into the world. To celebrate all my eBOOKS and AUDIO books will be FREE or ON SALE this week, including Google Play Audio.
Three Novellas… Three enchanting settings and adventures… Three unlikely lovers finding each other along the way…
Experience sailing the Caribbean Ocean with a pirate captain and his mythical lovers in The Salty Pearl’s Reluctant Commander. How will Bastien Verdon deal with his superstitious crew and a vengeful god who wants what’s his? Next is Captured By the Hunted, a vampire hunter story that asks who is the hunted? Gedeon Kadar, a Scythian warrior turned vampire or a pair of mated dhampirs hunting vampires for the Oltalom Order?
Fate Sent Her Two immerses you in a contemporary farmhouse setting in coastal California. Maggie McConklin, a widow and well-known figurative painter, launches an ad for housemates to save her home. Adam and Greg answer the ad. Sparks fly the moment the gorgeous men step out of their classic Charger to find Maggie and her Blue Heeler, Sorcha, waiting on the porch.
As a bonus to this diverse collection of sweeping, deeply romantic, MMF fantasy stories, enjoy Pinpricks: An Adult Fairy Tale. In its anthology appearance in Magick & Mystery by Dragon Soul Press, one reviewer said: “Superfast start. Very interesting premise. An unexpected joy.” Find out where a prince and three witches end up in a tale about choices, discovery, and questionable happy-ever-afters.
Enjoy A Free Chapter – Captured By the Hunted
Evy Blakemore
Our vampire stalker kept to his shadows and let us pass him on the stairs, and I wondered why. If we weren’t on such a sensitive mission, I would have confronted him. Part of me deep down would kill to know what his company meant, maybe even suspected what it was. Even as I focused all my senses on the belfry and my mate above me, the idea of challenging our watcher sent shivers down my spine. But now was not the time for distractions.
We’d come to the top of the stairs at last and took the final step through the hatch into the round tower. The smell of decay permeated the chilly darkness. The most dangerous vampire we’d ever been assigned hid somewhere in these shadows—sleeping. Our job was to make sure he never woke up.
At first glance, the open-air chamber appeared empty until my eyes adjusted, revealing a few cupboards and chests tucked in the curve of the far wall. The weather, constantly blasting through the high arched windows, had swept away any debris. Not even cobwebs shimmered from the beams.
Robert motioned me to edge around the east side of the perimeter while he did the same on the west where he carefully inspected the sagging, damp furniture. We studied every detail on our way to the farthest window where the majority of the feeble daylight trickled in with the waning sun. We had no idea what form Lord Barath slept in thanks to his very old magic. He could be a tiny mouse or bat, a wolf, or in some hideous demon form. Occasionally, we were confronted with multiple decoys.
The powerful ones were excellent illusionists.
From our meeting point, we scanned the room again before walking a straight line through the center back to the stairway opening. I pinched my nose to show Robert I smelled our quarry. The vampire was definitely in here with us. I pointed to the broken floorboards. We couldn’t pry at them or stomp around and test for hollow spots for obvious reasons, so Robert ran his keen vision along the floor for clues while I looked up… And just in time.
Shadow and sharp yellow teeth filled my vision. The sly vampire had been a tiny spider and now hung from a man-sized gossamer strand. Robert yanked me out of the way just before Lord Barath could latch onto my neck. In the same move, my partner arced his blade up and cut the strand, and we dove into a roll, aiming for the wall behind the stairs.
Our blades rang out as we lurched into position. I strained to see anything moving, but it was as still as ancient castle ruins should be… until low, menacing laughter crawled up the walls. The demon spoke. “The Oltalom Order has sent another hapless duo to end me. Look how well that worked last time. I heard you coming before you crossed the threshold. Are you prepared to die, children?”
“Last time?” Robert said. “You mean three hundred years ago during your last rampage when hunters trapped you as a bat in a silver-lined cage? You’re getting long in the tooth old man. Why don’t you show yourself and find out which of us will die.” Detached laughter rumbled over the floorboards. Then, the ancient vampire obliged us.
Swords ready, we turned towards the whoosh of air overhead. The dangling wraith sprang back into the rafters and vanished. Silence ensued. We watched and waited. We were prepared for the demon lord to swing at us again like a pendulum at high velocity, but we didn’t expect him to change to a dragon mid-swing.
I froze and gaped at the huge, spiny midnight-black creature bearing down on us with luminescent, jagged teeth and red glowing eyes. Robert reacted much better than I and pierced the beast’s chest under its wing. The dragon let out an ear-splitting screech.
“Run, Evy!”
“What!”
“He’s growing bigger. I’m going for his head, but if I miss, you need to be gone!”
“No! We do this together!” The dragon was growing so fast that soon we would have no room to maneuver. I pushed Robert toward his side of the room. “Leap with me!”
We sprinted in opposite directions away from the dragon. I kicked off the granite wall on my side, spun in the air, and landed on the scaled back. Robert landed behind me, wrapped his arm around my middle, and swung his sword against the beast’s neck. It pierced deep despite the dragon’s armor. I went for the other side. Two deep wounds, a few chunks flayed off, but we would have to hack for a week to get through the massive neck.
The beast howled but kept growing, and soon we were being smashed against the rafters. One broke across the glistening serpentine head, lodging a giant sliver through his eye, and still, the beast pushed his way to the top, taking us with him, his laughter sounding too much like Lord Barath.
Robert shielded me from the splintering beams, and I felt his inhalation above my head right before his warm blood sprayed the side of my face.
“Robert!”
“Hang on, Evy. He’s taking off! Are you ready to fly?”
“Oh my god!” I screamed as we broke through the tower, chunks of stone and copper tiles falling away behind us. The dragon flapped its huge wings, nearly rocking us off of him, before launching into the air and coasting away from the castle.
Robert hugged me to him with one arm and kept his other arm out of sight, making me fear the worst. “Don’t let go, Evy, even if I fall. Do you hear me?” I couldn’t answer that… I didn’t want to think about it.
Frigid air slammed into us as we broke through a black cloud. Beyond it, green, rolling land speckled with scattered villages swept away from the medieval Balkan castle to the Aegean Sea. We were aloft on the back of a dragon!
Just when that mind-boggling reality sank in, Lord Barath’s laughter rippled through the air and died out, and the beast dropped out from under us, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
We were falling… and the ground was a long way down.
By D. L. Lewellyn 