Latest Paradigm News


I know you all have been patiently waiting (or impatiently) for my newest paranormal novel, Paradigm. If you love all things scary, I’ve gone back to my roots, and have a dark, dark tale to share soon.

My strike of all things social media is ending this month. It’s hard to be happy and upbeat when you feel the world is crashing around you.

I think I’ve been away long enough to have built some kind of barrier between myself and the chaos.

I’ve done something very unwise – I started watching Game of Thrones and I’ve begun with episode one (with all of them available)  I’m going to have a set a rule to get my stuff done before they pull me in all the way – and I’m well gone already…

I knew it would happen – but I didn’t listen to me!

In any case…
I DO have something to share with you today.

My publisher, Sapphire Books   (linked so you can sign up for our newsletter and find out WHEN you can get your hands on a copy of Paradigm) Sent me the final cover to share.

I think it’s amazing and I hope you do too! For me, it completely represents Gypsy, our host for the paranormal television series, Paradigm, around which the book is written.

I will have more information available within the next month on the final release.


Tattooed beautiful woman in old spooky interior

Bad things happen in the dark…

… Leave the lights on.


If you have time, you can leave me a comment below on what you think!

Have an awesome day 🙂

PS – I’m now on episode 5 of GOT…


NewsFlash Author Update

Last year, after my heart attack, it was necessary for me to shuffle some personal and business cards in life.

I left Bold Strokes Books after Radclyffe and I reached mutually agreeable terms for me to pursue a different path in the future. I will be forever grateful to them for giving me a chance and publishing my multiple award winning books, Sometime Yesterday, and the Sisters of Spirits trilogy. 

If you hadn’t heard (where you been?) Book Three in that series, The Deadening is a finalist in this year’s Golden Crown Literary Society’s awards

They are still available for sale here at Bold Strokes Books.

So, I’ve been in author limbo and healing all areas of my life for the last year. I recently published a blog on Women & Words sharing a little bit about my awakening recently.

You can refresh your memory (and mine!) here!

Now for the big news!




I’m very excited to share with you I’ve signed a new contract with Sapphire Publishing.

I’m looking forward to working with them and I am hard at work (really!)  I’m thinking maybe a book out by Christmas for presents?  

That would be awesome right?

You can find Sapphire Books on Facebook .

And HERE for their webpage where you’ll find some amazing authors writing some awesome books!  

Leave your thoughts!

I’m off for now – working on that Christmas project for ya’ll….





On the Eve of My Destruction

I love Facebook most of the time.  For instance, the “memory” application that shows what you’ve posted on this day for the last few years.

I actually joined waaaaay back.

One of the goodies up for grabs today included a poem I had written for a contest in 2010. When they (the contest committee) mentioned my work, he only mentioned he didn’t like poetry. Which left me wondering – why have an option for it then?

Needless to say, I didn’t win. Which is totally okay – because I have published books – and he does not.

Can I in good conscious feel giddy about that?

Of course I can.                                     smiling dogs.

I’m also one of those people who can say, in an oh-so-loving-tone –  “I told you so,” and not feel guilty about it either.

smiling smug cat

So with no further fanfare, I’m going to share it here.


On The Eve of My Destruction

Circling death,
Round and round.
Crying cold winter tears
That fall like frozen rain
Into the desert
That used to resemble
A hopeful heart.

Tendrils of misty fog
Float in my wake,
Showing the opportunities
Lost in the furies
Of the wind that
Blows down the
Canyon of lost dreams.

Grief weighs down
A heavy soul.
The wings of life and
The energy of love
Disappear in the wake
Of bitter disappointment.

Do I have it in me?
The moon shows
Her benevolence and
Lights the way.
As I spread
My weary wings
For the last flight home.


Thanks for visiting and have a great day!


Heart Attacks and Helicopters

Heart Attacks and Helicopters

Or, if you prefer – the day Heaven didn’t want me.

I wanted to wait to write this blog until I had a little bit of a better (and grateful) perspective on my heart attack. If I would have told you how I felt right after this event – emotionally,  it would have been a much different tale – true, of course, but not kind (either myself or to the others involved).

Everything in my world has shifted – and a new paradigm is forming yet again.


In order to tell my story completely, let me back track a little.

For the last couple of years, I have been in a dark place.  Don’t get me wrong – I’ve enjoyed many happy memories too – it’s just that the world (MY world) was dark.  I literally had NO energy.  NO motivation.

None, zip, zilch, nada.

Oh, but I had the voices.

The Army showed up in full regalia and took over my house.

General Guilt, Colonel Shame, Major Should, Private Pity, Lt. Be-littler, and his sidekick, the filthy-name-caller.

All hailing from a well-known conquering army from my past.

To say I had given up on myself is an understatement. I was miserable and radiated it, and I do NOT blame anyone for stepping away from the negativity.  I would have myself had I been able!

Anyway – this went on for months. I sank deeper and deeper. Sought medical help – was rudely shrugged off – then – screw it – I began to self-medicate. And while it didn’t cause my heart attack ( I asked a medical professional during my hospital stay), it certainly affected my emotions and the way I saw myself and others.

But that’s another story…

I was being downright mean and snarky. That was frightening – it’s not something that I’m (at all) known for – I hate to hurt people’s feelings.  I drew further into myself by cutting myself off the computer.  I had no energy for consistency or responsibilities. The ONLY thing that got me up and moving was the aforementioned self-subscribed medication.*

A couple of weeks into May – I began to lose my words.  I would struggle to remember a descriptive word – and couldn’t.  Simple sentences were becoming difficult.

Extremely scary stuff for someone whose identity is wrapped with words and excellent communication skills.

On Wednesday, June 3, 2015 at 7:12 am – I woke up feeling very strange, but let the dogs out, and stumbled to the bathroom (not unusual by-the way – the stumbling when I wake up!). I wanted to let Sandy sleep in – I remember that.

I tried to make coffee and emptied the full filter onto the floor – which I left where it dropped. I distinctively remember thinking, f*ck it, I’ll clean it up later..

After my third trip to the bathroom in twenty minutes, I wanted to throw up but dealt with the “other” end instead, and very weirdly,  I felt as if my skin were sliding off my shoulders and was covered quickly in a cold sweat. I had stabbing pains in my chest – right in the center between my breasts, and I couldn’t shake it off or lay down on the couch comfortably.

I knew I was having a heart attack – I knew.

And I was pissed off.

This is not at all what I created for my death.

This freaking hurt. 

Hey, I’m keeping it real for ya’ll.  THIS is how I felt at the time. 

I did not feel regret – I did not care I was leaving. I didn’t think of things I didn’t get to do.

I was going to a better place – one where it didn’t suck at all to be me – and I could be with my daughter, Dezi. I knew she was waiting for me.

Now, I have the most amazing relationship in the world with a woman who deserves the very best. Did I feel worthy?  Nope. Still thinking she would be better off without me. The last few years have been rough for her, dealing with my issues.

After I was completely drenched in another wave of cold sweat, in spite of myself, I went to our bedroom, opened the door, and told Sandy I was having a heart attack. She took one look at me – leaped from the bed, called 911, and it gets a little blurry for me here until the firefighters came. Sandy later told me I looked as if I stepped out of the shower.

Then the ambulance came.

So, here I am on the bed, staring up at all these men in my bedroom – talk about weird right?  LOL – the firefighters looked as if they stepped from a calendar spread. I asked Sandy later if they were all that pretty – or had I been dead and seeing angels – she told me they were pretty.


They loaded me up, and shut the doors. One of the paramedics tried to find a vein for the IV – but couldn’t.  After searching – he gave up after one try.

I remember going really quiet, kind of numb. One guy told the other one to step on it, and turn on the siren, then ordered me to stay with him.  Just like in the movies. 

I only prayed that Sandy would get through losing me this way, and our sisters would get to her and help her cope. I was happy that she had her son to hold her up – he’s such a great young man.

Okay. NOW – I’m going to see Dezi any second now along with my beloved Nana, aunts, uncles, and friends who have passed.  I wasn’t scared or nervous at all. I would come to Sandy every day until she joined me on the other side. I would screw with sisters and all my friends too.

I pictured popping up at Shelia’s house to give her messages – and get lectured about leaving her first. Oh, I would have to get a message to my mother too. 

Being real folks 🙂  I was having a little bit of fun with this. 

The ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance.  I flew on the gurney down the hall (just like the movies) and into a trauma room where they were still looking for my veins.

Here’s a clue – I don’t have any.  They are really tiny and not visible on the surface. AND at this point – I have NO oxygen in my blood and they are freaking out. I point them to my ankle – where they usually take blood from at the doctor’s office.

I’m calm and answering questions – people are everywhere.  A man stands at my shins and starts tapping on the leg I had fallen on the day before – so I told him not there.  I’m thinking he’s going to stick a baby IV in the vein.  So he hides what he has and walks around to the other, left leg.


Remember those dreams where you try and scream at the monster and nothing comes out but a squeak?

Yeah, not so much.

There is nothing wrong with the volume of my screams –  so there, monster.

(Poor Sandy is in the hallway, hearing me and not able to help.  She said a nurse was rolling her eyes, she’s shooting her dirty looks – she had no idea they were drilling into my bone marrow while I was awake and fully conscious of the pain.)

The ER doctor is screaming at my face that I’m dying – I’m screaming back at him he’s killing me – three or more people are holding me down while they drilled into my leg.

Having the absolute GALL to tell me to calm down.

Take it out – stop what you’re doing – I would rather die. Get off of me, mother*cker.

I was not a happy patient.

Take your worst pain – even childbirth for those who have had it – multiply it by a thousand – throw in some PTSD from a previous rape and a complete sense of powerlessness – THEN try to feel grateful/and or calm while someone is drilling (YES, DRILLING) into your bone with no lidocaine, no painkillers, no numbing agents at all.

When they pushed medicine through it – I was on fire from the inside out.  It didn’t numb a thing – it was liquid acid flowing into my leg – breaking my knee from the inside before settling the hot coals into my spine.

THEN the ER doctor is shaming me for scratching him while he was trying to calm me down. He’s acting like what they did was no big deal.

Still keeping it real….

I hated them with every dying cell in my body.

I’m ashamed to say that I wished the pain on every person in that room who wasn’t sympathetic to the fact THEY DRILLED into my leg and flooded me with what felt like acid.

They ordered me onto a helicopter to airlift me to Dallas. One of the guys tried to calm me down, talked soothingly, and he told me he would try and get that out of my leg for me. I think I traumatized him.

I know I was traumatized.

I wasn’t at all scared of the helicopter and they were relieved.  I’m all, let’s go – get me away from here. (And this maniac who’s shaming me for scratching him – really prick?)

I’m thinking at the time – he should consider himself lucky, I would have ripped his face off if I could have.

I briefly see Sandy – and I’m trying to tell her what they did to me and to help me rip this spike out of my shin.

(After it was all said and done – she and I have very different perspectives on this.)

She’s white as a sheet – telling me she’ll meet me there. I can hear them giving her directions as they pushed me out the back door.

They only had the small helicopter – one where I would ride by the windows and they were stuck behind my head. So, he had no access to my leg or any of the spots he could have put in another IV.

The vibration of the helicopter kept the pain excruciating. I could think of NOTHING but my leg.

Did I mention I had NO PAINKILLERS or numbing while they did this? 

Screw the heart attack – that was nothing compared to this pain.

I’m thinking I’m going to lose my mind before I see the light and Deserae.

I’m LIVID that the pain is keeping me awake and focused on it.

Liquid fire came again as they remembered I’d had no painkillers and pushed some morphine through it.

I’m pounding on the roof and screaming bloody murder again.  It only numbed it a little, but I’m finally calm enough to think a little. Hoping the light was coming now.

Instead, I see the roof of Dallas Presbyterian.

Oooh, it’s like Grey’s Anatomy. They’re on the roof waiting.


A beautiful blonde PA meets the stretcher and I begged her to take the thing out of my leg.  She’s telling me there’s whole team waiting just for me –to save my life – and I had the best cardiologist in the state.

At this point I’m still horrified they are going to use the IV that feels like acid and makes my knee feel as if it’s being ripped apart from the inside. ALL I’m concerned about is getting the spike out of my bone marrow.

Through the halls, looking at the lights on the ceiling (again, just like the movies) – I’m freezing.  I was only in shorts and a sports bra – which they take. The doctor is an angel – very soothing. I beg HIM to take out the nail. He pats me, tells me he’s going shave me.

Sandy later informs me while she checked on my wound –  it’s a cute little Mohawk. 🙂

I only remember a little pain when they went in through my groin to insert the stint. Dr Park was kind enough to put another IV in next to the original hole so I don’t have to feel the fire – but the spike is still throbbing in in my leg.

I woke up in the ICU. I had a whole crew asking questions. One doctor asked me to tell him what happened and did I know where I was.

I was sarcastic – and I used quote fingers:

“Well,” I said. “It wasn’t “JUST” a panic attack.”

Ha-ha! You should have seen the look on his face.

No, he told me I’d had a “real” he used quotes back – heart attack. And I should take this very seriously.

I agreed then I proceeded to beg HIM to take that damn thing out of my leg. (I could care less about the heart attack.)

Sandy popped from behind the curtain.

Wow, that was fast. I looked at the clock and it wasn’t even lunch yet!

She’d been told the wrong room number, went to that bedside and saw a woman hooked up to a dozen machines and ventilator. She paniced,  turned around and went to the nurses station to ask about me.

The relief on her face was obvious.  Could you imagine having to drive to a hospital while your wife is being airlifted and not knowing what you were going to find when you got there?

It breaks my heart that she felt that.

Sorry baby.


I’m going to have to break this blog into another part.  Please understand I’m keeping it truthful – and telling it exactly how I felt at the time.  It’s what I do 🙂

If I have to go through this stuff – how can I help someone if I don’t tell on myself?

I shall title the second blog:  Heroes and Hindsight

In which I will thank everyone profusely for their part in my recovery. I felt all the love, truly I did.

In spite of myself – I did a complete 180 emotionally.

I blame the lack of oxygen – and you should too 🙂

Love you all,


images (3)

Don’t let the cartoon fool you – this is excrutiating.





*(If you need to know the substance – Read Shade’s story in The Deadening.)

And then know I’ve had NO desire to use since that day.

Guest Blogging at the 2014 Lesbian Appreciation Event! And giveaway.


I’m guest blogging at the 2014 Lesbian Appreciation Event this year.  I was very excited to receive the invitation.



Hit the Link to read it!  I’m also giving away one of my ebooks (of your choice!)  Leave a comment to be entered.

Have an awesome day!

Sometime Yesterday Wins Golden Crown Literary Award for Paranormal Romance



On June 29th, 2013 – my book, Sometime Yesterday, was up for two Golden Crown Literary Awards. One for Debut Author, and one for Paranormal Romance.

Being a finalist was shocking enough – being included in that amazing group of talented authors was surreal. But to win? OMG.

For those of you that are just now hearing of me, I’d like to tell you a story. On May 3rd 2006, my daughter Dezi passed away. She was three weeks shy of her twenty-fifth birthday.

My daughter loved to write and read my stories. We shared a love of reading. Oftentimes, we would pull out books from our purses and they would be the same one. It was our dream to write a book together.

Sometimes life – and the choices we make – takes us in a completely opposite direction from our dreams.

Sometimes, if you’re very lucky – you get back on track. For me, it was with my angel’s help, that insistent encouragement in my spirit with Dezi’s voice. My baby girl would not leave me be.

Write a book mama. 

She always called me that – with a French accent. The voice got louder and louder as time went by. Then a series of serendipitous events led me to Bold Strokes Books. They were so random, they couldn’t be anything but signs and synchronicity from my daughter.

Sometime Yesterday was a labor of love, and it kept me connected to Dezi. I wanted to write a story about a love that transcended time and death – of how a spirit would wait centuries to be reunited with their soul mate. The Dark Man that keeps them apart, represented so much more than the character. He represented challenges that we faced in our lives – addiction, abuse, broken promises and dreams.

I kept the story as authentic as our relationship was. Because throughout life, as hard as it was sometimes – we always laughed together. Natalie’s coming out story was mine, almost word for word. And it’s one of the scenes that readers tell me they love. How cool is that?

Back to the awards – getting me to sit still for that long, with that much energy in the room, is a feat in and of itself. I was plugged in big time.

I hadn’t planned any words to say – I didn’t expect to win. I only knew that I was honored to be a finalist at all. How on earth did I get here?  To be in attendance with so many wonderful women – authors and readers alike – meant more to me than I can express. The warmth you gave Sandy and I was wonderful. The feeling of belonging in a group of women just like us – was a gift. So, thank you for that. To see my beautiful wife smile and feel a part of, instead of us being the token lesbian couple – was priceless to me.


That alone was worth the trip.

Sitting in the audience, watching my book come up on the screen with my name, took my breath away. I was already excited for the other authors who had won. The energy in the room, and the Bold Strokes Books table, bumped up incrementally with each announcement, increasing my heartbeat, and made me dizzy.

When I didn’t win an award for debut author, I was still excited for the winners. Truthfully, I was relieved I didn’t have to get up and get on the stage. I had a dream that I fell off it the night before.

When they announced the category of Paranormal Romance, I held my breath. I just wanted it over with so I could clap for the winners. I was honored to be included – but had no real expectation of winning.

Time slowed for split second. In the moment between a breath that I took and when I finally exhaled, I heard it.

 You GOT this mama.

I gasped and elbowed Sandy in the ribs the second I heard Dezi’s voice.

Then I heard my name being called.

Then the applause.

That’s a feeling that cannot be completely described. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.

Thank you.

I’d like to tell you that I remember what I said, but I was still shaking – it was completely surreal. I know I choked at the microphone, I couldn’t see a thing with the bright lights in front of me, so I looked down.


I was looking at proof that Angels exist.

That dreams can come true.

And I couldn’t get the words out past the lump in my throat.

I know I thanked my wife first. Being married to an author isn’t always easy, and she understands more than most that when I’m looking out a window, I’m working. When I talk to my characters, she knows I’m not in need of more medication 🙂  She’s awesome.

What I also wanted to say clearly was: Thank you to the Golden Crown Literary Award committee, judges, and my publisher Bold Strokes Books, Radclyffe for giving me chance, Victoria Oldham for believing in me, and Cindy Cresap – for teaching me how to sing the song I wrote.

I’d like to sincerely thank the readers.

Thank you for letting me share something so personal to me. Thank you for seeing into my soul and finding my creation worthy. Thank you for your kind comments, reviews, and emails.

The dedication inside Sometime Yesterday reads:

For Deserae Marie

My beautiful daughter

Who sends me love on the delicate wings of butterflies



Thank you Dezi.

We did it!

book and award

Lone Star LesFic Festival

If ya’ll are in Austin Texas this weekend – and why wouldn’t you be – come and see me!  I’m attending my very first Lone Star LesFic Festival!

Sandy and I are beyond excited to be attending and meeting so many wonderful authors.  I have to confess – meeting Radclyffe will be surreal.  I’m praying to the Goddess that watches over Blondes – that I don’t say anything stupid… 🙂

lesfic festival