Blogging Fear

I’m terrified of blogging.

Sounds strange, doesn’t it? But when it comes to blogging, I tell myself all sorts of lies. I tell myself that I don’t have enough time or the proper reach. I tell myself I should be trying to reach more people through Twitter and Facebook. More importantly, if I feel so inspired to write, I should work on my books–give readers something more than this. Maybe write something I can actually make a little money off of so I can tell those around me that being a full-time author is working out, because I’ve got sales.

I find myself in the tired circle, always weighed down by the same facts, wearing the tracks in deeper as I go.

Today for instance, I spent maybe a few hours away from the computer. I spent the whole day tweeting and sharing and liking–and I’m flat out tired. Don’t worry, I doubt I’ll ever quit promoting in such a way, because in my mind, I keep thinking–today could be the day when someone sees the book I’m sharing and takes a chance on my work. I don’t care if they ask me for it if they don’t have enough money to buy it, because I’ve got e-copies and I get the whole strapped-for-cash-but-still-need-books thing. Those are almost my go to readers, that no matter what, they still live and breathe books. But I digress.

The point is, blogging is getting to know someone. And that’s scary. Baring myself online is scary. I’m a writer and like most writers I’m an introvert. I crave the safety of my shell, of telling a story from a safe enough distance that as you’re reading, you no longer hear my voice, but only the story. And I can’t write a story a week or so, because I highly doubt a story drawn up so quickly would be worth reading, unless it was truly inspired and I can’t always promise that.

Which leaves me with a dilemma–how does a storyteller take a chance on blogging? On taking the time to form a coherent string of sentences that actually make a little bit of sense? I don’t know. But for my readers, it’s worth a try. Always worth a try.

Have a lovely day. ❤ And blog on.

Nightmare In The Shadows

The darkly fierce Stephanie Brown with an eye for the gruesome has come out with her latest and greatest to date.

Need a little something with a darker side? Then “Nightmare in the Shadows” is a must.

Nightmare in the Shadows

Nightmare in the Shadows by Stephanie Brown

Newspaper journalist, Colleen Stevens, is enjoying a relaxing vacation visiting her father in Brines, Mo. when she’s called into work. A local serial killer from the area is arrested, and Colleen is asked to sit in on the interviews, only to find out by the request of the murderer, herself.

Stay on the job or walk? That’s what Colleen has to ask herself when she learns that the killer may have the information she is seeking in her mother’s death a decade prior. But can she stick with it once she and those she loves are threatened? Will she risk everything in search of the truth? Or will the dark recesses of the path to the truth be too frightening to wade through?

Murder is a dangerous business.


Add on Goodreads:


Stephanie Brown


About the Author:

Stephanie Brown loved writing at an early age. In fourth grade she
won a blue ribbon award for a school writing contest. After that
writing was her favorite thing. She wrote poems every chance she
As Stephanie grew up she dreamed of writing more than just
poems, and wanted to write books for everyone to enjoy. After
high school she started writing adventures for her friends and
gaming group on a weekly basis.
She also enjoys reading, and doing what she can to support fellow
aspiring authors by encouraging them daily. She is also a proud
supporter of indie authors. Stephanie hopes that someday, in the
near future, her books will be known worldwide.

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Madam La Zuray’s Books

Madam La Zuray chose to set herself free and write something naughty and dirty and good. And so that’s exactly what she did. So far she’s created…

Nookie for the Night Nurse

A nurse who heals with more than Western medicine—she heals with her body, her lips, and even…her heart. Nookie for the Night Nurse

Seduction in the Stacks 2

A seductress of the books—she’s read about romantic heroines for far too long, now it’s her turn to see if the sexy barista can bring out the wild and wanting damsel in her. Seduction in the Stacks

Bucking the Cowboy Cover from T

And a farmhand who can’t resist the bull riding that pulled apart the life he used to have—and the farm manager who addicted to the danger junkies…and maybe, one shirtless cowboy. Bucking the Cowboy


But there’s so much left unwritten…and so many more fantasies to lead. Are you ready for the next naughty read? Make sure not to tell your boss about this one.

Coming Soon…literally. 🙂

Riding the Boss_Madam La Zuray





Madam La Zuray 2

Madam La Zuray Links:























Wow, I don’t know what to say about this post, only that the phrase that sticks with me the most is “the loudness of flesh swelling against my clothes.” I cannot say how often I have felt that, the way the flesh dips and bulges when I bend over, the shelf of my stomach over my pants’ waist band, the softness of my shoulders and arms, the soft roundness of my face that doesn’t fit the woman I see in my head.

I never think about it, though, until I think about seeing myself in another person’s eyes. I’ve been called pudgy and gapped toothed and even worse, the shoulder shrug when questioned by someone else how I look. Where they don’t know what to say or how to say it, but they sure as hell aren’t going to say it in front of me. 🙂

That’s not what has stayed with me, though. What stays with me is the woman who looked up from a shelf in Walmart and said, “So beautiful. What nice eyes.” When I wore only lipstick. The guys approaching me for hugs when I wore my “Free Hugs T-shirt” to a beach. The woman at McDonald’s who told me a face without freckles is like a sky without stars. And the man who every time I walked in to the store, would call me Miss America as he was cleaning out the trash. I don’t know if these people will ever know the affect their kindness has on others, the way they not only see beauty, but pronounce it at random, spontaneously lifting a day by the pure sweetness of their souls. I’m so grateful to have known this type of person, to see the kindness in another’s eyes, to know people that beautiful, that in my mind, even when their faces fade, I will always remember them by the way they made me feel. Beautiful.

I’m working to accept who I will become. To hold my by back straight and my shoulders square, even if it makes me feel like I’m trying to thrust my breasts out. It’s silly. They’re my breasts and that’s sort of how they work, since they’re sitting on my chest and all, but it is so hard to learn to do this, to be the self-confident and assured person I desire to be even when I’m worried and scared to be out in public when I feel like I’ve laid my soul bare to a page and I’m naked even as I’m clothed.

To be proud. To be strong. To be eloquent in your wants and desires and honest with yourself. And to grant as much kindness to yourself as you want to give others. I wish I could be as gorgeous as those people who state the best. I desire to have that strength of character in my soul.

Perhaps one day I will.

(Below is the post that inspired me so to write this. It was written very well and I’m so glad I had the chance to read it.)







Living through the verdict of someone else’s eyes, we are always vulnerable. Eventually we must reclaim our own seeing.

via Fcuk Pretty — coffee and a blank page

Manor of Sweet Souls

As you all know, I fell in love with Gladys a long time ago and I’ve been working on her ever since. This is my free short story about my kickass troll. (Gave you a little excerpt here)

Tell me what you think!

Manor of Sweet Souls_ (3).jpg

Manor of Sweet Souls



“Gladys, my name is Gladys.” I grit my teeth, knowing I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He knows I’m on the list.

“Gladys. Here you are.” He pulls back a little cord, lifting the wall of a very complicated circle, and frowns at me. Or, Kyo.

“I’m afraid we don’t allow animals. No one who’s not on the list.” He drops the rope back down.

“Listen, Michael,” I say, reading the tag on his shirt. “If I was going to a party for fun, I’d leave my dog at home. Unfortunately, I’m on a hunt. Now, we could get into a whole jurisdictional issue, where I trump anyone you put against me, being I maintain the portals and you’re all on my turf. And I agree you’re well within your rights to make a big issue about my partner, but if you do I will be forced to come in there later with a different sort of weapon. Which do you find more threatening? A sword and bow, or my extremely well-behaved sidekick?” I manufacture a sticky sweet smile, not mentioning the throwing stars tucked at my belt, or Vanessa’s incredibly toxic vial of potion snuggled at my bosom. Not that I don’t have my charms, but those who sneak through the portals aren’t always easily persuaded to go back.

The bouncer is a human-looking guy, thin features pinching as he considers my request, but I can feel the power emanating from him. I knew security would be tight, with the prisoner on the premises, but it’s not often my authority is questioned. My orders come from Faerie and Earth itself—no one kingdom. Even the committees in Faerie who hand out the permits I enforce, would hesitate to question me. It’s not as if I can pick and choose which laws to enforce. Today, a brownie, tomorrow, the Seelie and Unseelie battles seeping through the portals—and that I won’t allow.

“Clock’s ticking. Either let us in, or I make a scene, and if there’s one thing trolls are known for, it’s our hospitable nature,” I say playing off of every story ever about man-eating trolls. I don’t know who the cannibal trolls were, but I prefer chicken, thank you.

Another waiter passes with something green on the end of a silver toothpick. It’s like the place where yummy goes to die.

Michael pulls up the rope, letting me in, and I wave as I pass. Technically, I should curtsy, but I’m already stomach level to him and not really happy where curtsying would put my face. As it is, the fae are a tall people. Those who aren’t tend to add a little height to their glamour.

I don’t like the view in crowds. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I ignore the tall people, while noting ones more my size. Most look as ill at ease as I feel, while others look positively lecherous.

One bogart, a squat woman with short hair and an off the shoulder dress, pinches a man in the derriere and winks when he looks back. Bogarts are a demented version of brownies—hiding reading glasses and remotes and feeling people up with clammy hands at night. I can’t imagine she’ll be doing much of that tonight. She’s been hitting the punch a little too hard, and her wink is slow. Not exaggerated, but more like she can’t figure out how to open her eye back up.

I don’t see my quarry, Bob, but brownies are tricky. On one hand, I could be looking for a short middle-aged man. I could also be looking for the plate or spoon he’s turned into. The only thing I have for Kyo to scent is a small piece of clothing I’m not even certain Bob ever wore.

I know he’s here. Today’s celebration is in honor of the first portal to open on the east coast—in Madam Goudsey’s house.

Madam Goudsey was a regular lovely with a crystal ball, selling candles and dire predictions to her customers. Only thing the gypsy was hiding other than being a fraud, was her dealings in the fae slave trade. An illegal activity, and well before my time, though not before Bob’s. Her personal housekeeper, Bob lived the hellish life of being trapped in her house. She wasn’t the true torturer, though—that would be Janelle.

Janelle’s a lovely troll, a turncoat in the truest sense of the word. Not only did she turn her back on her portals, she kept herself busy funneling illegal slaves to both sides—humans to Faerie and fae to Earth. She was truly vicious and it was ultimately the blood of humans, fae, and her witch partner that opened the entrance to Manor of Sweet Souls.



Roane Publishing–for those outside the US and those who want more free reads:

Things Mysterious

This was published by Roane Publishing a bit ago, and from what I’ve heard, it’s full of twists and turns.

Things Mysterious.jpg

Things Mysterious by Matthew Chabin

Release Date: June 22, 2015 Genre: Romance (Mystery) Keywords: #Romance, #Mystery, #Paranormal, #Mortality, #Literary, #RoaneBooks, #RoanePub
Dasan Garret is a disappointed man.  Recently divorced and just returned from a traumatic tour of duty in Iraq, he moves back to his hometown of Portland, Oregon only to find himself unexpectedly alone.  His old friends are all gone, moved away, locked up, or dead.  Women seem to occupy a parallel universe.  With no community and few prospects, he takes a job as a night watchman and withdraws ever deeper into the shadows of his mind.  Until one day when he meets Edenia, and she lights up his world like a bolt of pure energy.  She seems perfect: vibrant, gifted, kind, sexy, a sudden and unlooked-for reprieve from the sad ruin of his life.  And yet there remains a nagging sense that something isn’t right.  Could it be that he is merely slow to trust the happiness she offers him?  Or is there something behind that waver in her laugh, that fleeting look of sadness in her eyes?  The mystery deepens when one day Edenia disappears.  Dasan believes he must find her in order to go on living.  But to find her again, he will have to confront a devastating truth about her life, and his.

5* #Review: “I would definitely read another by this author.” 5* review: “A great read! It pulled me into a story so unusual and intriguing that I just kept turning the pages….beautifully written, mysteriously addictive, emotionally moving. I can’t stop thinking about it! More please!”