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Friday, May 29, 2015

Hold My Heart: has it really been six whole months?!

I released my first novel into the world December 3, 2014.
That was six months ago. I can't believe it.
To celebrate, Hold My Heart will be available as a Kindle Countdown Deal! 
Starting June 3rd, Hold My Heart will be reduced to .99 cents, 1.99, and back to 2.99 June 10th.

Years working on a story. Drafting, revising, researching, for three years. Then one day it's finally ready - at least that's what they tell me, because let's face it. I have issues with perfection. To me, my writing is never the best it could be, or there's always something I feel  I can improve on.
The feedback? Beyond my wildest dreams. People are reading something I wrote. Readers tell me how great it is, how they enjoy the story, but most of my readers just want to know: When is the next one coming?

Now, I see on social media many authors can write a novel in a few weeks, putting out five, six, seven books in a year...
Good for them, but Sweet Mercy! Not this girl. I could have held back and published until I finished the first three books. But as mentioned above, it took me three years to get Hold My Heart to a place where I was satisfied and felt I did the best I could. If I waited to get the next two books to my satisfaction before publishing,  HMH might now have seen the light of day.

Readers would have never met Ileana Harper, the one and only Tommy Colton, and Will Shaw.

That is why I decided to give all my attention to HMH, and publish it when done.
Book 2 in the Heart Series, Break My Heart is mostly drafted. Mostly.
Right now I'm sitting on about 95K words and still have a lot of fine tuning to do.
I write a lot. I've taken writing classes, learned techniques, but the only thing that works for me?

Character driven writing.

Characters tell me the story, and I document it. Scenes come out of order, and once everything is down, I try to make sense of it. This is how I find out what happens to the characters, and where the plot is going - which sometimes, it takes me to unexpected places...Like Tommy's feelings for Lil.
I thought I knew what was to come.
Ileana received a call at 2 in the morning. Ileana told me the events. Still I wondered, like Ileana, why her partner would call at 2am.
Then one night, Tommy woke me up at 4am from a sound sleep. He was walking his superior, Lt. Harper, to the TLQ's.
Yes. THAT scene.
If you've read my book, you know what scene I'm referring about.
I grabbed my Ipad and wrote what he was experiencing, word for word. It was all him.
And this, readers, was how I found out how Tommy Colton truly felt for Ileana Harper.  
Later that morning, he told me about the phone call. (I know, I sound like a crazy person, sorry!)

**Now, if you haven't read Hold My Heart, stop right here. There are spoilers ahead!!**

However, if you've already read Hold My Heart, here is my thanks to all of you readers, you amazing, wonderful people out there that have taken time to share your thoughts about my book, write to me, support me, and love my characters as much as I do.
This, is for you. 
Thank you!

******************UNEDITED SPOILER*******************
this is just something I wrote that never saw the light of day. 
But those of you in need of a quick-Tommy-fix,  might really enjoy it.

*****************SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER*************************

Six years. That’s how long I’ve known the love of my life. And she has no damn clue.
Here I am, six years later, drowning my sorrows in some club, surrounded by nameless, faceless women, while the woman i love is laying down with another.
I hate this. I hate every time she meets someone new. Because every time she does, I’m afraid he’s the one who’s going to take her away from me forever. That he will be the one to make her dreams come true. The one who will make her happy.
She’s been out with Rick all night. I keep glancing at my phone, hoping she calls to nag at me, tell me to go home and sober up. To tell me they broke up. That it didn’t work out.
“Hey there.” Oh God. Why won’t they leave me alone? I just want to get drunk and mourn peacefully for my girl. It’s not like I’ve tried to fuck her memories to a oblivion, because I have. I must have the record for man-whoring at my pace.  I’ve fucked so many women just hoping that for once, I can forget her face that night, her smile, the feel of her skin on my lips…
“hey there honey,” I greet nameless babe. “another drink for the lady.”  What am I doing? I’m getting too old for this shit. I’m pushing 30, and I’m running out of time. I’ve spent the last six years becoming the man she deserves and hoping she’d notice me. But it hasn’t happened. Instead, she keeps going on blind dates, or meeting douchebags that don’t appreciate what an amazing specimen of a woman she is. Let’s take this current douche, Rick or whatever. He doesn’t know her like I do. He doesn’t know what she looks like in the morning, that she has to have her coffee before getting into work, that wine makes her feel blue, and shots make her flirty. He doesn’t know her smiles. How good she smells after a round of kickboxing first thing in the morning. How cute she looks when she’s embarrassed. How she doesn’t like wearing make-up afraid she’ll attract male attention. That she graduated high school at 17, and college at 20. She’s the smartest person I know, and when she thinks no one is watching, she’s funny. She makes me laugh. And without knowing, she’s made me cry. She’s ballsy, brave, and determined. And her best quality? She doesn’t put up with any of my shit. Ever. She lets me have it whether I like it or not. I owe her everything, she owes me nothing. I wouldn’t be here right now a special agent of the FBI if it wasn’t for her.
I feel a hand softly rubbing my inner thigh. As I look down, I see nameless babe is making a move. I gotta give it to her, she’s taking a chance and going for it. When have I ever done that? I had her, in bed, and I left her there. I’m so kicking myself now. But I can’t, because it was the smartest thing I had ever done. Had I not done that, I would have never gotten to know the love of my life. So I’ve given up. I know I’ve missed my window. Now this is my reality. If I get lucky, I’ll meet someone I can stand, and she in turn will learn to live with the fact that I’m not giving up Ileana. She’s my partner, my best friend, and she’s not going anywhere. So this is hell.
Nameless babe’s hand reaches my crotch as I feel her warm breath in my ear, “you wanna go somewhere?”
“sure, just...let me make a call, I’ll be right back.” I yell in her ear, as I get up off the barstool and walk towards the restrooms in the back for some privacy.
I look down at my watch as I hold my cell phone to my ear. It’s two am in the morning.
Dammit. If she doesn’t pick up she’s either dead -
Or she’s busy fucking fucktard Rick. Fuck.
Christ. I can’t take this. Please be dead. Don’t be fucking him, please.
“What”. She answers in a bored, pissed off tone.
Oh thank God. Wait. What if he’s asleep and she’s pissed off I called? Fuck. It’s out of my mouth before I can control it. It’s like I lose my filter when I drink.
“Is Romeo finally spending the night?” shit. Silence.
“No he’s not.” Yes! So he dumped her!
“So he dumped you, huh?” Christ, fucking filter.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Eat shit and die Tommy.”
Man, is she pissed. She hates me right now. I’m glad I didn’t show up at her door, she would have punched me in the balls.
I can’t help but laugh. I’m so happy I could cry. Another one bites the dust. And there it is, while I’m silently dancing and celebrating. Selfish bastard, table for one. I’m such an asshole. I don’t make a fucking move, but I want her to die alone. What kind of asshole does that make me?
“Go home Tommy, we’ve got a long day tomorrow” she says, obvious worry in her voice. I hate myself so much right now I can’t stand it.
“I’m done, just heading out mom!”  I reply in a condescending tone. So I woke her up, then behave like an ass. Why does she even talk to me?
“take a - “ she doesn’t finish when I chime in, “taxi, Jesus Lil, lighten up, you need to get laid!” Christ, I don’t deserve her.
She doesn’t say a word. God, I’m such a fucking prick. My father was right. I’m such garbage. This is why, right now, I haven’t made a move on my girl, and never will. She deserves better than this. Than me. I run my hands through my hair as I sigh, resigned that it will never be, and try to salvage my dickwad attitude.
“Sorry Lil, I just worry about you.” Liar chicken shit asshole. No Lil, I fucking love you. You’re mine, and thinking of anyone else other than me touching you drives me to drink and fuck and debase myself until I feel like the undeserving piece of garbage I am.
I wonder if she knows the reason why I call her Lil. The first time was an accident, and she seemed bothered  by it. But once she told me no one called her that, well, that was it.  I decided if I couldn’t have her, then at least I’d have my own name for her. She finally gave up giving me dirty looks, and stop correcting me. I think she likes it now. My Lil. It’s my name. Once while hanging out after work, Charlie, one of our fellow agents, called her Lil. I calmly watched him as he went to the restroom and followed in. I threaten to break Charlie’s legs if she called her that ever again. I wonder if she knows about that. I have this look I give guys around her. We guys have a whole unspoken dialogue we understand. I think Charlie saw it in my eyes. I call it my “fuck off, that’s my girl” look.
“I know. See you tomorrow first thing.” she sighs into the phone. I can tell she’s tired. I bet she hasn’t been sleeping. This case is eating her alive. So what’s new. She takes everything to heart. For her, these women are not nameless. They’re people. With families. Right now she feels she’s disappointing the families by not catching this guy. And what am I doing? Yup. Hitting the club, getting drunk, trying to forget.
“night.” Before I say anything else, I hang up. I’ve done enough damage for the night. I need to sober up and fast. Quit dicking around Colton. I walk into the restroom, wash my face and look in the mirror.
“you asshole.” I whisper to my reflection. “get your shit together.” if not for me, for her. I can’t stand letting her down. With that last thought for the night, I slip around back and grab a cab straight to my place. Alone.

Up next: Meant To Be, A Heart Series Novella, where we'll learn more about Chris, Brad, Charlie, Tommy, and Lil.

Feel free to leave feedback. Please, please be honest. It's all I ask. Cannot thank you enough!

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