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Coffee, wine and chocolate perhaps?


What I actually mean is:

  • Writing
  • Editing
  • Promoting


Each task is linked to the others. All are critical. Each one demands time and energy.


Before I was a published author, I wrote, and wrote, and WROTE. I knocked out the first draft of a 90k word suspense novel in a little over eight weeks, and then hammered out no less than two more in the series – each around 100k – within the following six months. No kidding.


And yet today, I don’t write a fraction of that volume in the same timescale. Don’t get me wrong, getting my stories published – and seeing how much they are enjoyed by people-who-actually-buy-my-books – is a huge thrill. MASSIVE! The process from first idea to seeing it hit Amazon can be anywhere between three months (for a short story) to two years (for a full length novel), but now there are so many more things to be considered.


I can write a great story, but it still needs to be edited. The content editor will take my great story, carve some slices out of it, add a few new sticky-out-bits, ask some questions and generally push me to make it something more. At the time, I consider content editing to be one of the seven circles of hell. It goes back and forth a couple of times, and then – hurrah – goes to line edits. All done? Nu huh. Getting the line edits back drops you down another hell level. Seriously? I thought my grammar and punctuation were almost perfect, I cry (to myself). So in that case, why is my lovely manuscript now covered in acres of red tracked changes to be reviewed?


Finally, edits are done. Phew! Now I can relax, right?




Now the promotion-beast wakes up. This animal is constantly hungry. More websites, it cries. More reviews, it pleads. Pretty graphics! Facebook updates! Tweets! Tumblr posts!


* quick breath *


When I lift my head from my Google Calendar, it’s to realise that – yikes – I have a deadline to deliver another short story. And a novella to finish.


And the cycle begins again…


* rolls up sleeves * On that note, I need to go finish that short story, and complete another set of content edits, and set up some more promotion for my next release.


But you know what? I love it 🙂



Coming 15 July, from Acelette Press – Seeing the Love


StL_F (2)

Lucas Wade is losing his sight. As the darkness threatens to swamp him, the one bright spot in his day comes in the form of Natalie Fontaine. She works in the sales office, hundreds of miles away, and she alone treats him like a regular guy. She has no idea about his disability, and he doesn’t plan on telling her about it.


But if Lucas can’t be honest with her, Natalie may never see the love he has to offer.






Sian solved the mystery for him when she strolled past his desk to ask him about a meeting. “What’s this?” She picked up the Frisbee and examined it. “How sweet. You know I’m going to ask, but who’s Natalie?”

“Huh?” What did Natalie have to do with the Frisbee?

“Have fun with Molly. Thanks for saving my customer. Natalie.” He heard the smile in Sian’s voice, as she deciphered the writing. “Would that be Natalie in the Auckland office? The account manager? What’s her surname… Fountain?”

“Fontaine.” His voice was gruff. “Natalie Fontaine.” Warmth bloomed in his chest. It was just a gesture; it sure as hell didn’t mean anything. But yeah, it was nice of her.

Sian was speaking, and he hastened to listen. “What did you do for her, Lucas?”

“Oh, just a bit of juggling. Nothing much.” He didn’t mind Sian as much as the others—she wasn’t quite so irritating—but he still didn’t feel like chatting to her about Natalie Fontaine or why she’d sent him a thank you present. Would Sian take the hint and leave?

It seemed not. “She’s the one with the French accent, isn’t she?”

She has the most beautiful voice in the world. “Does she? I hadn’t noticed.”

Helpful Dave decided to join in. His head popped up like a meerkat’s.

“Natalie Fontaine? She likes talking to Lucas. Does she know about—”

“About what?” Lucas cut him off mid-sentence. “About what, Dave?” The challenge had been issued, the gauntlet thrown down. “About the fact that I work damn hard and do a good job?” He curled his fingers around the edges of his keyboard.

Silence hung between them. Sian was the first to crack. “I’ve got…uh…a meeting. Catch you later.”

He could feel Dave staring at him over the partition. Go on. Say it. Does she know I’m as good as blind? A fuckin’ cripple? Say it.

Dave cleared his throat. “Nothing, mate. I can’t remember what I was talking about.”


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