#Journey to #Publication & #Spotlight on @DevonMatthews_ #Blog #Excerpt #Readers

My journey to publication has really been a long time coming, at least in my mind. I've known I wanted to write since I was a child, but it wasn't until 2006, with my stepson already in school and my daughter soon to be heading that way, I knew the time I spent as a stay-at-home-mom was going to open up and that besides housework, I would have time for other things.

Something I hadn't spent much time doing since I'd moved in 2001, gotten married and had my daughter, was write. I thought about it constantly but kept believing, with the self-doubt I'd carried most my life, that I probably couldn't accomplish it. I knew there was a partially finished novel tucked away in my closet or a drawer somewhere, and several other novel "ideas" scribbled and scratched out in notebooks and on scraps of paper, but there was no encouragement nearby to say, "You should definitely take your writing back up."

And then I got a friend request from an old schoolmate and therein came the encouragement, so I really started digging in to the unfinished manuscript and in a fit of frenzy, I finally put the finish on a nearly 10-year-old project. It had been hard to give birth to because some of the situations in the novel hit so close to home for me personally, but I did it. To that friend, and my mom, I'm forever grateful for your encouragement. You will NEVER know how much!

But just like getting my first tattoo, finishing that first manuscript was addictive. It bolstered me, lifted me up- I was hooked on that feeling of self-satisfaction of creating something and finishing it. Of course, that manuscript might never see the light of day- or I might someday polish it up and publish it, but it was with great enthusiasm and confidence from completing that 1st one, that I dove headfirst in and started writing with serious intentions and with a sense of pride I hadn't felt before. I'm working on my 11th manuscript at the moment and hoping I finally found my mojo again because for a while, I think I'd lost heart. The burnout nearly wiped out my desire to write, but I'm getting it back, bit by bit... (bird by bird)

Castaway Hearts is actually the 3rd novel I wrote, over the summer of 2007, between a computer crash and the relief when those files I hadn't backed up were recovered before the hard drive was trashed completely. So that gives me even more joy to be able to share this story with you, the public. It was saved from oblivion, once upon a time.

And so, today I'd love it if you would swing by and join me at
Western Historical Romance Author Devon Matthews' Blog
where she's honoring me with an author spotlight and I'm sharing another excerpt from the now available Castaway Hearts.

1 Year #Anniversary- #BookContract #writer #TMPress

March 13th, 2011- I didn't know it that day, what was waiting in my email for me, but when I opened that email up, I nearly hyperventilated with excitement when KJ at Turquoise Morning Press offered me a contract for Castaway Hearts.

Now here we are a year later, less than 3 weeks away from the release of my novel and I still get giddy all over again thinking about the day I opened that email. I was about to start painting the living room, hadn't thought much about my email over the weekend and then decided to check it before I got started because I knew painting was going to be an all day job.

A few days later, March 18th, I signed my contract, then the next day I posted And So It Begins...

Castaway Hearts #Book #Excerpt 2- Mermaid in the Moonlight

Dawson gave the horse a good prod with his heels, and she took off. The wind whipped through his hair and the moonlight illuminated his way through the lush forest across the road from his home, down the embankment to the edge of the beach. Even in the dark, guided by the pale moonlight, his horse knew the way. This was not their first midnight ride.

As they reached the clearing, Dawson gave another prod. Gypsy opened up and flew across the sand. She sensed her master’s troubled heart and in turn mirrored his desire for freedom and wild abandon. Dawson let her run, her thunderous hooves muffled by the gritty sand beneath.

The horse galloped across the sand for a good quarter mile before Dawson gave her a nudge and pulled back on the reins to slow her to a halt. He stared out at the sea, the moon, the stars, and found he felt small, petty, and irritated still.

Aggravation crept into his heart as he looked out into the bay. Nathaniel knew what Dawson went through in his youth and yet his foolish little brother still wanted to take a bride.

Dawson threw a glance over his shoulder to the cliff-side home of Captain and Mrs. Barrett. The building housed the one idea he never imagined he could want.

Catherine.

Don’t dwell on this waif. She’s not yours to want after or worry about.

His brother was another story. Nathaniel had a great mind for sailing, but he had always been bohemian, never content to stay still for long.

A riotous slosh sounded in an alcove to his left and captured his attention. Inch by inch, he guided Gypsy closer to the rocky cliff, afraid of what he might find there. He thought perhaps a fish or some other sea creature had washed ashore, unable to make its way back out to sea.

As he stole closer, he made out the form, but it was not a fish or any other animal he had ever seen wash up on the beach before.

Wrapped in wispy white fabric that rippled in the wind, a ghostly female figure began to solidify in his sight. Dawson pulled Gypsy to a standstill. It reminded him of mermaid stories he had heard as a child, but this was no mermaid. This was an apparition, floating along on the breeze.

The fabric she wore was so thin he could make out the supple curves of her breasts, his eyes traveling down over her full hips, and the long slender legs that carried her to the water’s edge.

Dawson rubbed his eyes with his fists. Surely, the moonlight had deceived him.

When he looked back the image before him remained and his body responded to the nearly bare-skinned specter, so pale in the night. Dawson stared in silence, her body dancing, gyrating beneath the pale moon. The unwelcome tightening of his breeches made him well aware that this ghost was far more than a figment of his imagination. Her lengthy dark tresses trailed behind her, making him think of a mermaid’s tail. But her thin cotton nightgown revealed no signs of transformation as it clung to her shapely thighs. As she waded further into the water, a sharp gust of wind caught the top of her gown, billowing the wide neckline over her flesh. The moonlight caught her profile for a moment. The dainty nose and pouty lips seemed suddenly familiar, but they slipped into the shadows as his eyes fell to the rise and fall of her breasts again.

That’s when it hit him.

Catherine!

Gone was the prim and proper young woman from earlier in the evening. The stiffness in her before had given way to a sensuality so fluid he could feel it in the air and her movements. Her body tempted him like a waking dream, as she blew in on the breeze, wild and free. It reminded him of desires he had not visited in years.

In the moon’s glow, milky skinned and delicate, Catherine was oblivious that anyone watched her dance of free-spirited joy.

Dawson’s blood pounded in his veins the longer he spied on the young minx.

Those supple curves had crossed his mind earlier in the evening, those swells and dips along her edges made his fingers itch and his manhood betray him in the most uncomfortable way.

His brother’s words taunted him. He might find someone else…it flickered through his mind in disdainful amusement.

Gall burned through him—for his body betrayed him in that instance.

He caught his breath and turned one last hungry gaze toward her before he rode off in the other direction.

Then he gave Gypsy full rein to slice through the night as she carried him away from a temptation that would burn him if he didn’t get as far away as possible.

Stepping Through...

I look back over the last two weeks in amazement and I know it still hasn't sunk in.

I've stepped over the threshold though, into what I consider my tropical paradise. For all intents and purposes, I'm now a signed author, which means that in the very REAL future months I will be able to lay claim to a title I have only ever DREAMED I could call myself-

Published Author

Little ol' me!

It's still very surreal and as I sit here typing, I'm overwhelmed by the emotions the thought stirs in my heart. It's so thrilling it brings tears.

I know they aren't the first I've shed in joy over this and they won't be the last because I'm an emotional person by nature. I know there will be other moments when it sinks in a little more, when the idea becomes more concrete in my mind and it will hit me all over again.

I welcome those moments, more now than ever before, because this was a dream I hadn't hoped to realize so soon- if ever. I've heard of people "living the dream"- I just never thought I would be one of them. Though I love fairy tales and fantasy I'm a very "reality" based personality. I don't like to kid myself into believing the impossible. I make sure the bills are paid before we spend money on non-necessities. I generally stick to routine, though I'd love to occasionally drop everything and be spontaneous. I guess my feet are planted pretty firmly. I'm grounded.

But now- I opened the door. Crossing the threshold I find myself standing at an intersection, staring out at all the different paths that veer off in varied directions from me, out there up ahead. Some I must start down now in order to merge with other ones later up the road. The way isn't perfectly clear, but I know that what's out there is what I've been looking for- it's my "impossible" becoming "I'm possible." Haha!

I hadn't thought of it before, but that's it. "I'M" possible.

And I'm stepping through....