Christmas is in 6 days people!
6 days to run around shopping like a headless chicken,
6 days to stress over dinner parties and cookies, and
6 days to wait until The Twelve Dates of Christmas
is available to start reading!
6 days to run around shopping like a headless chicken,
6 days to stress over dinner parties and cookies, and
6 days to wait until The Twelve Dates of Christmas
is available to start reading!
Today, Savannah’s newest series Touch of Magick is released. The entire series, so you don’t have to chomp on your fingernails waiting for the next book!
I was lucky enough to get her to answer some questions for us about her books, writing, and sock preference.
Your first contemporary romance series, the Wilder Books, follows the lives of each member of the band Wilder. In Touch of Magick what is the common thread that ties the three stories together?
The Touch of Magick series follows a family of witches — Tristan, Delilah, and . . . well, the youngest sister (Juliet) is deceased (more on that in book 1-WishCraft.) Delilah’s story is first and the second book goes to Yasmin, one of the employees in the family’s magicks store. Tristan finally finds his place in book three.
Can you provide a Twitter-length description for each book?
WISHCRAFT – Delilah is heartbroken over her sister’s betrayal and her own broken marriage. She’s picking up men in bars and casting forget spells on them. But Brandon’s spell just won’t take and he keeps coming back.
DREAMWALKER – Yasmin (tired of waiting on Tristan to notice her) casts a love spell (which she knows she shouldn’t do.) Messing with destiny leaves her with police protection in the form of one Luke Salzone, non-believer.
LOVESPELLED – Megan is fleeing an abusive family situation. Her ‘gift’ is that she can hear what everyone around her thinks and feels. The bolt that Tristan feels when he touches her may not be enough to make up for all the ways he doesn’t understand her.
Will we see more paranormal stories from you, or do you plan on focusing more on contemporary romance?
All my stories are contemporary–I’d even call these contemporary. Though they have a paranormal element, the stories are still based in real-life love. I do have plans for other series in the future with paranormal elements, though.
What’s the next series we can look forward to, and when should we look for it?
The Hollywood Nights series will release the first two books on May 4th, 2017. There’s already a link to those books on my website, so you can see blurbs and more. The remaining two books in that series will be out later in the year.
You write other genres under different names. Would you mind sharing?
I write dark, twisted suspense under the name A.J. Scudiere.
When did you know you wanted to be a writer?
I don’t even know. I know I wrote my first ‘book’ at age eight. It was 80 pages and I thought it was an adult romantic suspense novel. It wasn’t. I’d always told myself I’d be a published author by the time I was thirty. Then one day I realized thirty had passed by and I hadn’t even given it a shot. That very day, I made a plan to finish a novel and get it submitted.
What inspired you to start writing romance?
The same thing that inspires me to write anything. I have stories–almost like full-emotion movies–playing in my head. Some have been in there for more than a decade. Writing them releases them so I can move on to the next story. Some of those stories are suspense and some are love stories. So I had to write romance.
The Wilder Books released in June of this year, and now Touch of Magick is released 6 months later. Approximately how many books do you write in a year? And how far in advance do you write?
There is no average year! My first book took a year and a half to write. The second only two months. I thought I had this writing thing nailed and got pulled up short when the third book took almost three years to finish! This year, however, I will complete four full-length novels, beginning to end, edited and everything. So that’s a really good pace.
On your website you say you believe in characters with human flaws, how do you find your characters? Or do they find you?
It’s both. They find me and I also work to make sure the characters are fleshed out. I hate when characters do dumb things or out-of-character things because that’s where the author (or tv show writer) decided the plot should go. Some things just don’t fit. And real people are full of flaws and troubles and even things they don’t see. So there’s plenty to use to write a good, real story with. And I personally need more than just a ‘that’s nice, they’re together now’ ending. I love when I fall in love along with the characters and I try to give my readers that same experience.
As an author what’s been your biggest book-related thrill?
Honestly, there are a lot of them. I loved the feeling of awe when I held my first copy of my first book in my hands. Though I admit it’s not the same anymore, there is still a good sense of the world stopping when you get your new book. My day is made when people write to me and tell me how much they loved one of my books. Or when I see a new review. The first time someone stopped me and asked if I was ‘her’? That’s unreal!
I’m a big fan of the Wilder books. I totally want one of their albums. What band or combination of bands would you recommend listening to get the Wilder sound?
Oh! That’s so great! So, I taught myself to sing “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen like a singer–all the deep lungfuls of air, all the diaphragm movement. I wanted to know what TJ felt. I had songs in my head the whole time. I have pieces of “Jump” — the song TJ writes for Norah — in my heart. And later, after I wrote that book, I finally heard Keith Urban’s “Once In A Lifetime” which has that same vibe. I hear a male version of the Dixie Chicks when I’m thinking of Wilder and their sound. And some Rascal Flatts with all their harmonies. I hear sweet but southern sounds like Phillip Phillips’ “Home” and old INXS — so it’s definitely a mix!
What’s your hidden party trick?
That for everything above–about me singing like a singer and writing songs–I have absolutely zero singing and musical talent! ha.
Coke or Pepsi?
Mexi coke. Hands down. Nothing else.
One last important question regarding socks. Why is it shoes and socks and not socks and shoes? On a more personal note is it sock-shoe, sock-shoe, or sock-sock, shoe-shoe?
Linguistically, it’s “shoes and socks” for the same reason it’s a “big, red wagon” and not a “red, big wagon.” For me, it’s sock-sock, shoe-shoe because I have no natural body heat, so those socks have to get on fast. The second foot cannot even hang out bare while the first gets a shoe!
I’m excited to have Bethany Adams as a guest on my blog. Her latest release Sundrered, book two in the Return of the Elves series just came out a few weeks ago. Today her book Soulbound is released as an audiobook.
Its available from:
This is the intro blurb I would read from an index card if I were sitting at a desk on a televised talk show:
Ever since finding a copy of The Hero and the Crown in her elementary school library, Bethany has loved fantasy. After subjecting her friends to stories scrawled in notebooks during study breaks all through high school, she decided to pursue an English degree at Middle Tennessee State University. When not writing or wrangling her two small children, Bethany enjoys reading, photography, and video games.
When did you decide you wanted to be a writer?
I’m not sure there was ever really a decision. I started writing stories when I was a kid and never really stopped for wrong. I did consider other things when I was in college, but writing was always there. It took me until my thirties to get serious about a career in writing, though.
What’s your hidden party trick most people don’t know about?
Inappropriate jokes? I’m fairly quiet, and I keep my off-color sense of humor to myself until I really know people. So when I break out with a raunchy joke, it surprises the heck out of people.
What’s worse? Stepping in something wet after putting on clean dry socks or a noisy cricket outside your window when you need to sleep?
Noisy cricket. I can change socks, but don’t mess with my sleep!
Your books are fantasy-romance, which genre really pulled you into wanting to write the fantasy or the romance?
I’ve always had a deep love of both. I grew up reading Robin McKinley and Mercedes Lackey. Then as a teen, I started picking up romance novels, too. I’ve tried to just write one or the other, but I can’t seem to help it—they blend. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten past a page or two without mixing the two.
Soulbound and Sundered are the first two in the Return of the Elves series. How many books do you have planned?
Heh. That’s a good question. I’m writing a short story (which might sneak itself into a novella) that happens just after Sundered. After that, Book 3 will tie up the story arc with the main villain. But I also have stories in mind for Lynia and Lial, Selia, Naomh and/or Caolte, and a new character popping up in Book 3. I guess we’ll have to see!
When can we expect to see the next one?
I’m hoping to release the maybe-novella in February. It’ll also have a couple of bonus short stories unrelated to The Return of the Elves. Book 3 is a little more tentative. I’d love to have it out in May, but it depends on how smoothly the writing process goes.
Can you give us a twitter-length over view of each book?
Soulbound: Arlyn wanted to meet her elven father, not spark the plot to kill him.
Sundered: Poisoned energy is flooding into the realms of the fae, causing sickness, and Lyr must rush to find the source of the threat.
What has been the most euphoric experience in publishing your novels?
It is absolutely when someone tells me they love my book. Hands down. That anyone would take the time out of their day just to message or email me about my book…it’s such an honor.
As a self-published author what has been the most difficult obstacle to overcome?
The learning curve. There’s a great deal that goes into publishing a book, although it sounds like it should be simple. Most people know that you need an editor and a cover. But then there’s formatting (for ebook and print, which aren’t the same), deciding how you want to publish, entering your information into a million publishing platforms, buying ISBNs, advertising… It all falls to the author. I’m still learning to juggle it all in a lot of ways.
How do your stories come to you?
It’s character first. Always. Scenes just pop into my head, and it’s usually the character in the middle of doing something intense. Of course, sometimes the meanies pop in and then leave before I can get a full story. That doesn’t usually happen, though.
Do your characters become more real the further you get into writing the stories?
I suppose so. For me, it’s like getting to know a real person. As more of their story comes clear, I learn more about them. I didn’t know why Lial, the healer in both books, is so cranky until the third draft of Soulbound. It’s a strange sensation having something from your own brain surprise you.
You’ve provided us with a sampling from Sundered, do you need to set up this scene?
Lyr’s life is pretty messed up at this point. He’s dealing with a great deal after his failures at the end of the first book, and now more problems are popping up. And now he has another surprise in store.
Excerpt from Sundered:
Lyr strode down his favorite path through the woods, his footsteps guided more by habit than intent.
It was beyond foolish to take his daily walk with another assassin on the loose. At the least, he shouldn’t have ducked the bodyguards who trailed him every time he left the estate—the same three who’d been unable to detect or deflect the danger just hours before. But for the moment, Lyr didn’t care, a thought that crept in more every day. Maybe if he walked fast enough, he could outmaneuver his frustration and discontent.
His hands curled into fists at the helpless feeling that washed through him, the same sick emotion that had plagued him for nearly thirty years. He kept telling himself that it would pass. After five hundred and forty-nine years of life, he knew that all things shifted and changed, even among the slow-paced elves. Yet here he was, his father’s murder still unsolved, the person behind their recent troubles unknown, and his soulbonded forever lost to the world. Despite his training and his power, he could fix nothing.
And now he had to worry about the Neorans.
Lyr was halfway to the portal when the alarm set into the estate shielding resounded through his mind. Muscles tensing, he paused to examine the spell. Five people had come through the gate unauthorized, and not guided by someone connected to Braelyn. The guides who escorted travelers possessed medallions to let their charges through, so it had to be a true incursion.
He only wore his boot knife, but time was more of the essence than his safety. Clechtan, but he was a warrior in his prime. These were his lands, and he knew them better than any intruder could. He didn’t need bodyguards with him just to check the gate. It would only take a few moments to creep close, and the land guards shouldn’t be too far away.
Lyr brought his own personal shields to their highest state and darted off the trail. The forest here had minimal undergrowth, much of the excess cleared to prevent fire, so remaining undetected would take some caution. Still, he knew the best routes. He wove through the trees as he flung his senses wide, but he detected only the intruders and the guards perched in the trees surrounding the portal area. The Tayianeln were taking no chances after their previous failures and had rushed extra guards to the portal. Though they awaited his command, they would not be caught unprepared again.
Lyr slipped behind a log bench designed to look like a natural part of the forest. It was the largest and most distant of the three scattered around the clearing near the portal, perfect for crouching behind. Unsure if the interlopers would have the kind of magic capable of detecting him, he sent out several false energy signatures around the edges of the clearing. Finally satisfied, he looked up to examine the newcomers.
Four females and a male. An older elf in long robes stood closest to his hiding place, and the two females nearest her seemed to be servants of some kind. His gaze moved to the flame-haired male, and Lyr’s breath caught. Power swirled around the newcomer, but it was unlike anything Lyr had seen before. Not quite like Eradisel, but…
Ralan’s voice broke into his mind without warning or apology. “Do not attack, and stay wary of the male. He is not what he seems.”
Lyr’s eyes narrowed on the group. The elder’s white robes were richly embroidered. More elaborate than the others in her group. And although the male’s power was undeniable, none of them were armed beyond ceremonial knives. More diplomats? There was one more who could have been some type of guide. She stood apart from the others, and tension hitched her delicate shoulders so high he could see it from across the clearing.
The older one barked a single word Lyr didn’t recognize, and the slender woman pivoted, her long robes swirling around her ankles. The cloth was of good quality, but the robes were simpler than the elder’s and cinched by a leather belt. She took a step forward, and a pendant on a thin chain glinted between her breasts. Was the amulet mere decoration, or was it some kind of weapon?
Perhaps he’d been reckless to leave the estate without his sword after all. Lyr eased forward, his focus on the metallic glimmer. She shifted again, falling into shadow, and the source of the flash came clear. A large crystal encased in silver mesh. If this female was an assassin, he’d eat moss off the back of the bench.
Then she spoke, and his attention darted back to her face. Though she hadn’t noticed him, he fell into her light blue eyes. A shudder went through his whole body.
They had never met, but he knew her.
Lyr’s hands gripped the bark of the log bench until lichen crumbled beneath his fingers. It was not possible. Aimee had died four Earth years before, and his daughter had witnessed it. Arlyn wouldn’t have mistaken her own mother’s death. Besides, the woman before him had pale blond hair, so unlike the vibrant red Arlyn had inherited from her mother. He could see that they weren’t the same with his own eyes, yet he could feel the connection between their souls.
It matched the one he’d shared but never completed with Aimee. As much as this stranger’s energy differed, her spirit was the same.
This woman was his aenac—his soulbonded.
He had never heard of an elf finding another soulbonded after losing the first. Since the souls of bonded pairs connected, the death of one would take a bit of the person left behind, leaving a piece that could never reconnect. Still, his soul sang for the female across the clearing. No matter how much he tried to deny it.
Suddenly, he understood how Kai had panicked and given Arlyn the binding necklace on their first meeting. Lyr wanted to run forward and do the same before he lost yet another soulbonded, and it took all his willpower to resist. Even if the entire group was set to kill him, they were not walking back through the portal. Not until he’d spoken to her.
With a mental command to the Tayianeln hiding above him in the trees, Lyr prepared to reveal his presence. Feeling Kai’s approach, he established a quick connection between them. “Do not attack. Stand down and let me handle this. One of these women feels like Aimee.”
Go check Bethany out online, follow her on all the social media links, tell your friends!
Main website: http://bethanyadamsbooks.com/
Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/bethanyadams
This is unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on. Since its NANO month, I definitely have a goal in mind, and these will see the light of day this time next year.
Jimmy wiped his hands together, as if he could clear away the grease, and not just smear it around. A familiar happy tune wafted on the breeze. He looked up. Was that Rose? A cloud of thick golden tresses swirled around her in the freezing wind. She high-stepped and skipped her way over the ice and rocks on the side of the broken up road.
“Hey,” he called out.
Rose froze. She hadn’t noticed the hearse on the side of the road until the man called out to her; the tall good-looking one, the one who cheated off her tests in World History. James. James, what was his last name? If anything he had filled out even more. The white shirt he wore showed off his broad shoulders, the rolled up sleeves emphasized the unseasonal tan of his strong forearms. Rose had only let him cheat hoping he would at least talk to her, but nope. Boys didn’t talk to her in high school, and men didn’t talk to her now, seven years later.
“Oh hi. Did you get a flat? Need some help?” Not that Rose could do anything, but she had been well trained to at least offer assistance.
“No, I’m good, just finished. You aren’t walking home, are you? Where’s your ride?” Jimmy asked
Rose threw back her head and cackled. “You’re funny. Why would I have a ride? I’m pretty sure that damned bastard made sure that I would be stranded out here. Oh wait, that would mean he actually thought about me. No. No, I don’t have a ride, because my father made sure he was taken care of, without a thought for me.” Her voice was thick with knives and resentment.
“That would explain why I heard ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’?” Jimmy smirked.
“Yeah, busted.” Rose grinned sheepishly.
“Can I give you a lift home Rose?”
Rose’s heart sped up, her breathing caught in her throat. James-the-cheat knew her name. “Yeah, James right?”
Jimmy nodded, “Jimmy.”
Van Haas’s face blanched then blushed a ruddy hue as shock, then embarrassment crossed his features. “Ms. Palatine, Julia.” van Haas’s voice dropped when he said her name. “I am in a position of great power and wealth. I have extensive lands and many people follow me within my organization. You are too lovely and should not be expected to participate in the masculine world of business, you…”
“I am going to stop you right there, before you say anymore that you will regret. I do not know the feminist climate of South Africa, but I can tell you right now as a woman in business, you aren’t ever going to get anywhere by telling a woman she should or should not do something.”
“Forget I said anything about business.” van Haas waved his hand dismissively. “I am leaving here soon. We have not had any time to be alone together. I would just like to spend some time with you. You invited me here. And it’s been all business and genetics the entire time.”
“Because I invited you to a genetics conference.”
“Yes, well you invited me, and I came. You have spent too much of my time with other people. I think we should return to my suit and…”
Julia held up her hands in front of her, stopping van Haas from continuing. “No. Clearly, there has been a miscommunication.” This explained his oily demeanor when the others weren’t around. “I am not, no.” She let out a breath. “I don’t want to assume anything, however, I have a very strong feeling that you are about to make a claim with emotional expectations. I am not, I have not done anything that should warrant these expectations from you.”
“You invited me.”
“I also invited the alpha of the Meyer family in Canada.”
Driven: book two Rhea Silvia Legacy
Well, unfortunately, I am not announcing the publication date.
Cause, I don’t know when that will be.
Due to scheduling issues and issues with what it takes to actually self-publish a novel the date has been pushed off.
I’m now shooting for a winter release date.
Also, this book will be released as an eBook first, not sure how much longer after the eBook release it will be available as a trade sized paperback.
The book is in editing, and it is getting done. It’s just taking a little longer than expected.
This is unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on. I have no idea if or when these words will see the light of day. They could be edited away, they could be ditched, who knows.
“Are you so sure? Are you so blind that you don’t see the man, you only see a king?”
“But Xernes wouldn’t cry, even if he did have feelings for me. I’m not saying he does. In fact, I’m fairly certain he does not.”
Old Grandmother placed her withered palm against Lilly’s face. “Hold every tear close, he won’t share them with anyone else.”
Lilly stood slack jawed as she watched Old Grandmother continue away. Xernes was not raised a king, he made himself one. He learned on his own to fight and struggle and to succeed. Old Grandmother was right. If he did cry, it would be out of anger and frustration, and he would not hide that. But tears of loss, no that was not something he would do in front of others. Just as she wouldn’t. She hid her tears to hide from the judgement of others, a silly girl crying over a man who did not return her feelings.
Or did he? Why had Old Grandmother said that she only sees the king and not the man? Lilly had to work hard to ensure she treated him appropriately as the king because she was too aware of him as a man.
A cacophony of angry honking and yelling caught Honey’s attention. Not another idiot who thinks traffic on Cannery Row would behave like normal city street traffic. She looked to see who would be so rude in this throng of tourism and froze. Fear and panic stopped her breathing as she recognized the angry man at the center of the commotion.
She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. “Oh God, not him,” she said, barely a whisper. Her hand went to her neck, clasping her protective charm, her personal amulet.
Through the front windshield of a low silver sports car she saw the once loved angles of Bryce Maplecourt’s face, twisted into a familiar visage of rage. Only this time, it wasn’t directed at her. This time, those piercing blue eyes were blazing at another hapless victim of undeserved vitriol.
Air flooded back into her lungs as she gasped and spun around, angling herself to face away from him.
“He didn’t see me, he didn’t see me, he didn’t see me.” She repeated over and over again under her breath as she rubbed the small charm between her fingers.
Honey focused on her breathing, trying to calm the surge of adrenalin. He didn’t see me, and he would never recognize me dressed this way. Honey wore a comfortable old hoodie, one that had been broken in with years of abuse and washing, one that had mystery stains and faded color. The Honey Bryce had known would never wear a hoodie, let alone one she purchased for a buck at a local thrift shop. No— She calmed herself. “—Bryce didn’t see me, and Bryce wouldn’t recognize me if he did.”
Careful to keep herself turned away from the street, Honey carefully made her way through the crowd. When she was half a block from work, she ran. The need to distance herself from Bryce increasing with each step.
She entered the crowded coffee shop and immediately headed to the back, through the office, and into the employee washroom/janitor closet. She slammed the door shut then crouched down in the shower.
She had gotten away. He hadn’t seen her. No matter how much she repeated this mantra, she could not shake the panicked thought that Bryce had followed her, that he somehow knew she was here.
Her breathing came in gasps. She gulped in air as she stared at the door.
Her eyes widened and her stomach lurched as she watched the door handle turn.
Protective, book one in the Rhea Silvia Legacy
I’m trying something new. I’m going to post unedited RAW, straight from whatever project I happen to be typing away on. I have no idea if or when these words will see the light of day. They could be edited away, they could be ditched, who knows.
“Enough!” Xernes bellowed. “I don’t have time to for you to squabble on an acceptable tribunal.” He thrust his arm forward, fingers extended. “Let the djinn tell us the truth.”
The markings on his arm left his skin in a sudden swift jump. They hovered in the air for a brief moment before the shapes melted into grey-blue smoke. The smoke rolled from Xernes’s fingertips growing thicker and denser, but never fully forming into a solid shape.
The cloud wrapped around Lilly in a caress, twining around her ankles then wrapping up her torso like a feline seeking attention.