The new year is a time of renewal, of new beginnings. We all feel it. Packing away after the holiday is a great time to start fresh.

Most people make resolutions that usually fall away within a few weeks. I know I’ve done it. The problem isn’t the resolutions but trying to make huge changes. Face it, we all love routines, me more than most. Change is not my friend. So trying to make a big one right in the middle of the cold, dark winter is not going to work. To get past that, I started making small changes, nothing that would upset my routine too much, but over the long year makes a difference.

This year, my big challenge is my health and that starts with sugar. I do love my sweets. Surprisingly enough, I have more of a sugar craving now than I did when I was younger. I blame menopause. I’ve taken to eating 95% dark chocolate. (My family gave me a lot for Christmas, so I’m stocked up for a while.) I love it and it fills the craving with hardly any sugar. Plus, it has antioxidants, which are good for me. At least, that’s my story.

It’s a small change, but one I’m hoping will yield results over the course of a year. I’m trying to work little bits of exercise into my routine as well. It all helps.

What are your resolutions this year?

Naughty Heroes: In and Out of Uniform

If you’re looking for something to heat up the cold winter nights, be sure to check out NAUGHTY HEROES: In and Out of Uniform—A collection of UNFORGETTABLE HEROES!

MARINE ON A MISSION
N.J. Walters

When Mitch McCoy left rural Kentucky to join the U.S. Marines he never thought he’d return. Now he’s undercover with a state drug task force. He’s not only facing his past, but also Sara Hawkins, the woman who broke his heart. This investigation will risk their lives and their hearts.

SEX BOMB
Nicole Austin

From first sight I knew Marine Lieutenant Harlie Savage wasn’t fragile like a flower—she was fragile like a bomb. Definitely not some princess who needed to be saved, either. She was a queen who only lacked a sword, and I vowed to be her weapon.

HER SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
Belle Scarlett

Leia has no idea who ex-Marine Major Tate McIntyre is when he saves her life in a dark alley. Yet Tate’s certain Leia is his to have, hold, and protect. He vows to keep her safe at any cost. His only price is her heart. Semper Fi!

THE NIGHT WATCHMAN
Katherine Kingston

A disabled vet rescues a woman on a mission to collect evidence, saving her from the men chasing her. As Jace and Shannon race to survive and outwit a traitor, a deep connection grows between them. But staying alive long enough to explore the attraction will take everything they’ve got.

MILITARY BLUES
Elizabeth Lapthorne

Luke is struggling to recover from a career shattering IED blast that sees him permanently discharged. Milly’s career self-destructed and she’s moved cities in the hopes of starting again. Can this new life and new relationship be a second chance for them both?

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Z29RCY1/
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/1134068523
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/naughty-heroes
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1483388473
Universal: https://books2read.com/u/b5QgqA

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

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April 4, 1939 — January 10, 2020

She passed last Friday. The wonderful thing was that so many family members were already on their way to see her one last time or prepared to come at a moment’s notice from all over. We asked the funeral home if they could manage to bury her on Monday so that those who had traveled and had to return could stay for her funeral. They did it.

Likely it was easy because mom, unlike my dad, didn’t want a viewing or any sort of formal farewell in a church or at the funeral home. She preferred the idea of the family meeting at her gravesite and saying our goodbyes there. I don’t think it took twenty minutes—not that anything was rushed. We spent longer greeting each other and giving hugs.

All her children were there. Most of her grandchildren, too, as well as many of the great-grands. We placed roses on her casket.

And yes, there were tears, but there was also laughter. Because you can’t remember a character like my mom without smiles. She was flawed—sometimes petty and had a long memory for a grudge—but she was also generous, clever, and very loving. Everyone had their favorite funny memory—her hanging up a mean rooster on the side of the barn with a fishnet or using that same fishnet to kill a snake, the unique, sort of grating quality of her voice when she shouted for the kids to come to dinner or for dad to take his insulin shot. Mine was the way she occasionally cursed under her breath but managed a “sugar” or “fudge” when little ones were around.

After the ceremony, everyone headed back to the house for a meal, which was provided by my sister’s Brotherhood Protectors author group. By Monday night, some were on the road again. By Tuesday afternoon, only those who will continue to live here were left. With so many possessions gone, and without my mother’s presence, the house sounds hollow. But my pragmatic daughter is already at work, sorting through photos to be shared, clearing out decades of “stuff” my mother held onto that she really didn’t need. It keeps her busy. Helps her prepare for the move from the house across the street to this house. Soon, it will be a vibrant, noisy home again.

When I began writing toward publication over ten years ago, I had no idea I would have enough stories to sustain me through over a dozen books, let alone one. But once the switch was turned on there was no stopping that pesky and persistent muse. Initially, I struggled to find my footing in the rapidly changing publishing world, and dabbled with writing contemporary romance, romantic suspense, fantasy, and paranormal stories while I read everything on novel-writing, took online courses, and worked with writing groups and critique partners to hone my craft. Basically, I spent four years working on my 500,000 words of practice. But once I found my voice (that magical quality that makes every writer unique) and decided to focus on young adult literature, I was amazed at how the stories poured out of me. Apparently, my teen-self had a lot to say!

Even though I was in my forties at the time, those early novels reflected some difficult issues I faced myself as a teenager and young adult, including the loss of my mother to cancer when I was sixteen, an eating disorder, a teenage pregnancy, date rape (ON THIN ICE), a brother in the military who committed suicide (HEAVEN IS FOR HEROES), and drug and alcohol addiction (PIECES OF LOVE), to mention a few. Although these traumatic experiences shaped me in ways I never could have imagined, sharing those experiences with teen readers from a place of authenticity and insight allowed for a deep healing in me that changed my life.

Writing can be cathartic for the writer, but it can also be incredibly powerful by touching the hearts and minds of readers as well. The feedback I received from readers of those earlier novels is what has kept me writing despite the many challenges of earning a living at the craft. I’m fortunate enough to have a supportive husband and meaningful work to supplement my writing career/habit, but even if I didn’t, I’m not sure I could shut off the part of me that is compelled to share my inner thoughts and perhaps my Pollyanic vision of hope with the world—a compulsion that has served me well in my struggle to maintain my sanity and peace of mind through difficult times.

I kept journals for years as I grew up, putting to pen and paper my deepest darkest fears, as well as my hopes for a brighter tomorrow. In spite of my dysfunctional family life and the chaos of my youth as the youngest of seven children, I somehow managed to keep my eyes looking to the future and wanting to carve out a purpose and place for myself in the world, a common theme in YA Lit. I am driven by the notion that we all have a choice in life…to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem. Our challenge is to allow the trials of life to make us better rather than making us bitter. To that end, my writing comes from the strong sense of social justice that informs my daily life. When we can turn tragedy into triumph and evolve from being a victim to being victorious, it offers us the opportunity to inspire others to do the same.

My Savage Cinderella Novella series chronicles the survival, recovery, and transformation of a girl who was kidnapped as a child and left for dead in the high country of North Georgia. She not only survives her ordeal and overcomes her captor, but she goes on to thrive in the world and becomes a crime-fighter and purveyor of good.

The original novel, Holt-Medallion winner, SAVAGE CINDERELLA, introduces Brinn in her element, surviving in the mountains, walled off from the world and struggling to overcome her past. But when she is discovered by a young nature photographer who convinces her to come back to the world, Brinn must face her worst fears and take a chance on living the life she always dreamed of. Despite her feral nature, she is a kind, compassionate, and insightful young woman whose moral compass leads her to want to protect the innocent and right the wrongs in the world. Through leaning on friends, family, and her inherent strength of character, Brinn is reintegrated into society and determines her fate lies in helping others. Each subsequent novella tackles a social justice issue plaguing us today (human trafficking in FINDING HOPE and LOST BOYS, the plight of Native Americans in SACRED GROUND, drug trafficking and addiction in BROKEN ANGEL, and stalking behavior, corruption, and immigration in LIBERTY’S PROMISE) and brings to light the need for compassion, resilience, and integrity in a world gone mad.

If I have inspired even one reader to become a force for good, I will have fulfilled my purpose in writing my stories. Here’s to hoping 2020 will bring about change for the better in all of us.

Do you have a favorite book that has inspired you, caused you to change your mind, or helped you heal from something in your own life?

About the Author

In addition to her day job as a Massage Therapist, PJ Sharon is an award-winning author of young adult books, including the contemporary novels PIECES of LOVE, HEAVEN is for HEROES, ON THIN ICE, and Holt Medallion winner SAVAGE CINDERELLA. Follow the Savage Cinderella Novella Series with FINDING HOPE, LOST BOYS, SACRED GROUND, BROKEN ANGEL, and her latest release, LIBERTY’S PROMISE.

WANING MOON, WESTERN DESERT, and HEALING WATERS completes her YA dystopian trilogy, The Chronicles of Lily Carmichael, which RT Book Reviews calls “An action-packed read with a strong female lead.”

Her debut non-fiction title Overcome Your Sedentary Lifestyle (A Practical Guide to Improving Health, Fitness, and Well-being for Desk Dwellers and Couch Potatoes) is a holistic living, self-help guide packed with easy to implement tips sure to motivate today’s sedentary masses toward a more balanced and active lifestyle. For more info on PJ’s books and updates on new releases, sign up for her newsletter or visit her website.

In her “real life” job as a Massage Therapist, Personal Trainer, and Yogi, PJ has been called “a powerhouse of positivity and productivity.” Her mantra is “find balance in all things and live every day to the fullest.” A black belt in the art of Shaolin Kempo Karate, avid kayaker, and singer of Italian art songs, PJ has two grown sons and a growing brood of grandchildren, and lives with her brilliant engineer of a husband in the Berkshire Hills of Western MA where she writes YA…because every teen deserves a hopefully ever after.

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It’s taken me a little time to process. I spent the remainder of January 10th, after 1:30 PM, walking in a fog, making calls, meeting with hospice. The 11th, family descended. All my brothers, my sister, my son, nephew, nieces, daughter and her family. All inside one house. Most staying here overnight.

It was a strange day because my sis and I knew that while we had everyone here, we had to go through mom’s things to see what everyone wanted. Of course, her artwork flew of the walls. Everyone wanted a memory. I was left with a watercolor of a sunflower she’d done for me. We sorted through her clothing, bagging up what wasn’t wanted to give away. We parceled out her jewelry—so may mementos from my father’s deployments during the Vietnam War, later gifts, usually with diamonds when they had more money, because my mom loved bling. Treasures we’ll wear while we think of her.

The day she passed, my daughter was vacuuming the house after checking her to see if she was comfortable. Mom was beyond speech by that time, only half here. She no longer responded to our voices. I brought in a bright yellow washcloth to wash her face and began to do so, when I finally noticed she no longer breathed.

My sister, who had driven down from northern Arkansas walked into the house a minute later.

Two elderly men from the local funeral home came to collect her some time later. My son-in-law and I helped move her from the bed to the gurney. It seemed fitting that I should help lift her one last time. My SIL helped wheel her out to the hearse. One last gesture of respect.

Over the last couple of years, we’ve lost so much—my beautiful grandmother, my strong & kind father, my lovely mother. I stayed to care for them. My daughter followed me to care for me and them. I’m surrounded by loving family, and I know that was by my mother’s design. I can shed tears, not many, because that’s just not me, but once we lay her to rest, the work begins, because my daughter and her family will fill this quiet house, moving in to this sturdy home my father built.

In mama’s last days, she talked to my dad a lot. Long conversations that I only understood in snippets. He was waiting for her.

Let’s frame this, just so you see where I’m at in this “process”.

In 2018, after many months, off and on, of personal care by myself and my daughter, my grandmother passed away.

In 2019, after months of in-home care, my father passed away.

Now, my mother’s life is leaving her body. She’s at home where she wanted to be. We’re caring for her with the help of hospice staff that provides baths, checkups, and the supplies and meds we need.

I’m not a depressed person. I don’t cry. I do. But when there’s something I can’t fix, I get quiet. I look for outlets to provide me peace.

While she was in the hospital over the holidays, before they released her to come home to die, I cut and folded pieces of watercolor paper and banded them together with a rubber band. Then I sat down over several days and applied blotches of paint to the paper. When she came home, I began doodling in the times between I had to rise and give her food or water or meds. She was very demanding—not that I minded, because she and I knew what was coming. When she griped too much, I soothed or prodded her into laughter.

Now, she’s not eating. She’s barely drinking. I give her meds for her anxiety and the pain as her organs slowly give up.

And when it’s quiet, I sit and doodle.

I do this for her, because, guess what? She was a true artist. Her paintings and sketches are all over the house. I can barely draw, but putting color and scratches on a piece of paper is soothing for me. And I know she would have loved what I’m producing.

Here’s the cover…

And some of the pages. I’m not finished, yet. I hope there’s still some time…

I don’t mean for this post to be a downer. I’m generally a happy person. I laugh a lot. Still do. Even standing in my mother’s room with family, listening to her labored breathing, we find funny stories to tell about her. It’s at night, after I’ve checked on her, given her comfort, that I walk across the hall to her office and begin doodling, because I’m not ready for sleep.

First, let me say how happy I am to be releasing this novel, Where the Howl Are You?

It was just published as the final book in the Be Careful What You Summon series. The first book, Vampire Vintage, came out a while ago, but the second and third books were long overdue. It was hard to get to my Indies when I had traditional contracts with deadlines, then first, second, and, sometimes, third edits, plus marketing, etc., demanding my time.

Anyway, I rewrote and rereleased Vampire Vintage first. Tiger’s Night Out, book 2, was released a year ago—January 2019. And now, finally, with the release of Where the Howl Are You?, the series is complete!

Pushing forty, Ronda Calhoun did a summoning spell with her single friends to find immortal mates, figuring they might appreciate women with a little more maturity and experience. For all the others, it worked! So why isn’t her immortal showing up?

Private investigator Nate Smith didn’t know what he had back when he and Ronda dated in High School. Now he knows she’s the one he wants to spend his long life with. Arranging to run into her isn’t a problem, but confessing he’s a werewolf could ruin everything!

Get your copy: 
https://books2read.com/WhereTheHowlAreYou

But this article is about how readers helped me with all of this…

First of all, book 1, Vampire Vintage, needed a new professional cover. It was previously published by Ellora’s Cave and I had to update it. Amanda Walker did an awesome job, and even made bookmarks to go with it. (Email ash@ashlynchase.com if you want a couple! I’d be happy to send them. 🙂 )

One of my readers loved the first book so much, she became, not only a fan, but a friend. Knowing she was hoping for the other women’s stories to be told spurred me on.

Book 2 needed a cr*pload of editing, beta reading, and proofreading. Half the book took place in India, so certain words and phrases were checked with a West Bengal local. Most importantly I needed encouragement. My beta reader provided that with an enthusiastic, “It’s ready! Publish it!” So I had the cover made by the fabulous Syneca Featherstone of Original Syn and after a professional proofreading, that’s just what I did.

On to book 3. It had been previously published looong ago by another epublisher under a different title. I dusted it off, rewrote it completely and figured the five or ten people who bought the original version probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.

Then I needed a new title. I ran a few past my street team and one of my long-time members came up with a suggestion I hadn’t even thought of! Where the Howl Are You? was the PERFECT title, since our heroine, Ronda, had to wait so long to have her HEA, too.

Part of the fun (at least for me) is getting feedback from readers. A reader taking the time to express their thoughts in a review or word-of-mouth social media post is awesome! I take the good with the bad, and sometimes I’m able to improve a book if it gets a “second time around” publishing opportunity. Like Death by Delilah—a novella from my Ellora’s Cave days. There was a scene that awoke a reader’s “Ick factor.” That sometimes happens with erotica. The novella itself garnered a lot of contest wins and nominations, so when I had the opportunity to rewrite it, I changed that scene. It’s now part of an anthology with two other related novellas called Immortally Yours.

Sometimes, I get that feedback well before reviews. My proofreader Dianne Donovan is fabulous at catching every last pesky typo…and she doesn’t hesitate to give me her honest opinion of the book itself. I’m delighted to tell you she loved this one! However, I just got a “meh” advance review from a reader who didn’t like how the hero never shifted. That was one of the things that tickled me. He was so afraid he’d scare her off, he disappeared rather than let her see him shift. That didn’t mean he didn’t keep an eye on her. Wolves are by nature very protective of their chosen mates. And when she found out what he was, she didn’t get all girly and scared…she was more like; ”Why the hell didn’t you say so?” She had been waiting for her immortal for two years!

So, those are some of the examples right off the top of my head. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all the support, encouragement, and honesty of my readers. Have you ever wanted to write to an author about their book? What’s stopping you?

Ah, those early years of thrilling sexual exploration and tearful heartaches! All of us have those experiences. Many of us consider spilling the whole story in a memoir.

So it is with this new release by Jessica Hardy. Only she didn’t know how to write a book, so she called on her old friend, Liz Ashworth, to help her put the story together. The result is an up close and personal view of a woman’s journey from adolescence to adulthood and of the times she lived in.

My work on Jessica’s story left me with many questions. Does love last a lifetime? Do we ever forgive ourselves for our mistakes? Is there any absolution in baring your soul to the world?

Jessica will find out as her true life story hits the bookstores and readers decide for themselves.

Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

In the mid-20^th century, an entire generation of women found themselves caught up in a revolution. Young women tossed aside society’s rules that had governed women with an iron hand for hundreds of years. Suddenly women had agency, the right to their own identity. And their own sexual adventures.

The story of Jessica Hardy and her seven-year marriage to Parker Grant brings that enormous cultural shift down to the personal level. As she enters college in 1966, Jessica is desperate to break out of her strict upbringing. Parker is her salvation, a graduating senior who becomes the love of her life. Newly married, they immerse in Parker’s duties as an air force officer and a world of their own making—nights in Las Vegas, windy Pacific beaches, and long summer days in the Philippine Islands. Slowly, with Parker’s encouragement, Jessica gains self-confidence and a sense of herself.

But Jessica has a problem. She wants more. More knowledge, more experience, autonomy. Leaving no stone unturned, Jess breaks one rule after another—abortion before Roe v Wade, experimenting with marijuana then LSD, one man then another, even time in jail. It all culminates in an unexpected spiritual awakening that opens the door to the rest of her life.

Once in a Lifetime Opportunity reveals this tumultuous time in a gut-wrenching portrayal of a woman determined to find her own way and the man who loved her.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt:

Hartman became ever more distant. I had been conquered, leaving him to pursue new prey. Exhibiting my need only pushed him further away, but then when I regained my balance and ignored him, he needed me.  One night when I had spurned him successfully for over a week and had taken the phone off the hook, he woke me up at one a.m. shouting at my bedroom window.

“Jessica, goddamn it, wake up!”

Groggy, I heard him yell for several minutes before I actually woke up.

“Jessica,” he shouted, slapping the bedroom window screens.

I staggered down the hall and jerked open the carport door. He careened up the steps and stood glaring at me in the dark dining room.

“What the hell, Hartman? I was asleep.”

“Fucking mud all over my boots,” he slurred, obviously drunk. He sat heavily in one of the dining room chairs and tugged at the boots, pulling off one then the other of those precious handmade alligator cowboy boots.

“Wanted to see you,” he said, leering at me.

I huffed and headed down the hallway, climbing into bed as he shucked off his clothes and crawled in on the other side, still complaining about the mud.

“You didn’t have to walk in my yard,” I pointed out, turning off the lamp and trying to get warm. “You knew it was muddy.”

“Hell, I knocked a fucking hour.”

“You did not.”

“Yes, I did.” He snugged up against my body, sucking heat into his cold limbs.

“You’re fucking worthless, Hartman.”

“You love me anyway, Jessica.”

—

Thanks Delilah!

Lizzie Ashworth
Author of Edgy Fiction
Visit my website at www.lizzieashworth.com
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