When I branched out from #amwritingparty to #amwriting, I found a wonderful writing community and I’m so glad I did. My tweetdeck is never without the #amwriting column so I can see what people are posting, and catch articles of interest, etc. #Amwriting has given me some of my best friends and those bonds will not be broken easily. Help is always only a tweet away.

This is a progressive birthday celebration, so thanks for stopping by and the next stop is at Khyiah Angel’s blog. Go check it out. And for a list of all participants in the party go here.    And…..

The post Happy 2nd Birthday #Amwriting – It’s a Party appeared first on Be the Cat.

The downhill slide is a bittersweet time for me. I’m excited to get to the finish line, yet saddened to be leaving the story behind for awhile. I console myself (yes – console) that revisions lie ahead in a few short weeks and I will be reunited with my characters and have the opportunity to mold and shape the raw clay I have produced. It’s also at this point where I look at what I have to fit into the remainder of the book and look at the dwindling words left to write, and a tiny bit of panic sets in. How will I fit it all in?

Fortunately, I have learned who I am as a writer and always build in a buffer (minimum 10K) because I know I will add more before I cut. Then after I have built the book up to a point where it is longer than it should be, I reach for the scalpel, and start trimming away the fat. This particular project, being a middle grade novel, means I have a little less leeway with the word count than I normally do with a young adult novel, so the hill is looking pretty steep as I make my way to the top. The slide will be steep, and the ride will be fast, but I am ready to hit it at a run.

The post The Downhill Slide appeared first on Be the Cat.

1. She had a garage sale and not everything sold so she’s trying to foist her junk off on the unsuspecting?
2. The holidays are around the corner, and the spirit of giving tackled her like a Bear’s linebacker?
3. She’s almost reached 1,500 followers on Twitter and wants to commemorate it?

Ding… ding… ding!! Time’s up. If you guessed answer number 3, you’d be right on the money. Her follower count is climbing higher with each moment and she’s giving away chances to win some great swag.

How do I know? Because (drumroll please) Prize #1 is a signed copy of Misfit McCabe and Prize # 2 is a signed copy of Nowhere Feels Like Home. But there’s tons of other cool stuff too, so hurry right on over to EisleyJacobs.com and check out the prizes and find out how YOU CAN WIN!!

The post Holey Moley – Prizes Galore appeared first on Be the Cat.

So if you have that special someone on your list who likes to read, you can now purchase the award winning books in the Misfit McCabe series directly from my website – if you look up at the very top of the page where the menu is, you’ll see the BookStore link. I have made the books available in a few different ways: Plain, Signed, or Inscribed.

Click the following links if you’d like to read more about Misfit McCabe or Nowhere Feels Like Home

The post Book Store Grand Opening appeared first on Be the Cat.

Before you get to my entry, you might be wondering what the picture has to do with it. Well, I figured after reading my post, you might need something pure to look at. So, without any more ado, read on for my entry in the PG Love Sex Scene Blogfest.

Warning: The below scene has elements of abuse and may be uncomfortable to read.

**********

Tory’s Day

     Tory snuggled under the covers and enjoyed the velvety feel of the darkness. Barely able to see the poster of her favorite band on the wall above her bed, she squinted to make out the lead singer. Her body sank into the bed, all tension lost, as thoughts of the morning’s bike ride to the park drifted through her mind.
     Aimee wanted them both to try out for the drama club in the fall when they started high school. Tory giggled while Aimee strutted across the grass pretending to be a high-class lady arriving for tea. Tory wasn’t sure she wanted to be in drama. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, but Aimee thrived on it. Maybe she could work on set design. She painted pretty well.
     The warm night air blew the frilly curtain out as it entered the room and the chirp of crickets filled her with a sense of contentment. Glad she decided to wear her cotton tank top pajamas; Tory let the warmth of the night engulf her. She pulled Millard, her longtime sleep companion, out from under her pillow. Her mother told her she was too old to sleep with a teddy bear and tried to take Millard away. Tory had given up playing with all of her other stuffed animals, and they now occupied the chest at the end of the bed. But she couldn’t give up Millard. He stood by her all of these years, keeping her safe in her sleep. Tucking him in the crook of her arm, Tory’s mind relaxed and drifted while she listened to the leaves rustling in the breeze.
     Her eyes flew open at the faint creak of the stair tread. Not tonight. I had such a great day. Please not tonight. Tory’s heart beat faster and she thrust Millard back under the pillow. Listening with an acuteness born of fear, she heard the stealthy steps as HE crept up the stairs.
     With each creak from the stairs, her heart stuttered. How could she avoid this? Maybe if she pretended to be sound asleep he’d leave her alone. She closed her eyes. Her muscles and nerves screamed as she strove to remain still.
     She took a deep breath in and slowly released it. Tory needed to calm her quick, shallow breaths as she heard his steps shuffle down the hall. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids as he stopped at her door, lightly jingling the coins in his pocket. He waited outside the door for an intolerable moment and she thought she’d shriek from the clinking of the coins. Her stomach tightened into a knot. At the snick of the door latch, two tears seeped out from beneath her tightly shut lids and pooled at the curve of her cheek before sliding off her face.
     Her heart pounded with each unsteady step of his approach; one shaky step at a time accompanied by a wheeze. Tory’s heart thumped so loudly it drowned out the crickets’ chirps.
     An expectant pause stretched between them until she felt the calloused tips of his fingers gently touch her cheek. Tory shuddered inside and hoped he didn’t feel her tremble. Then with a touch as soft as butterfly wings, he brushed her bangs back from her face. She whimpered. She couldn’t help it.
     Tory sensed the change in him as soon as he knew she was awake. His touch was no longer tentative and light. He stroked her hair. He always did before things became unbearable.
     He leaned forward as he traced the outline of her face. The sour stink of sweat mingled with whiskey and tobacco assaulted her. Tory gagged as the smells threatened to overpower. As he kissed her cheek, the heavy gold medallion he always wore thudded against her chest.
     No longer able to bear his closeness, his touch, Tory disconnected. He would do things to her body, but he couldn’t really hurt her if her mind wasn’t there. She mentally flew up to the corner of the ceiling and watched him do those things to her. A horrid fascination overtook her. She felt disgust for the girl on the bed, despising her for not fighting his touch, for not escaping his kisses.
     He pulled the blankets down. Tory dreaded what would happen next. He kissed her lips, murmuring soft words meant to soothe. Her stomach twisted as he rested his hand on her belly. Even watching became too much and her mind went completely blank.
     Annoying sounds brought her back — his tear-laden wheeze, muttering, “I’m sorry,” pacing, “How could I do that?”
     The cycle was almost complete.
     He stopped in the middle of one of his circuits and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he sobbed. His anguish made her feel dead inside. Now that it was over, Tory looked at him with no emotion and waited for him to leave.
   She pulled the blankets closer around her like a cocoon and waited. The minutes ticked slowly by. His remorse abated, and with a shuffling gait he stumbled toward the door. He paused at the door and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
     When the door closed with a click, the floodgates of emotion opened. The tears Tory couldn’t cry before streamed down her cheeks. Pulling Millard out, she hugged him tight. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her throat felt on fire from suppressing the tears for so long. Millard would soak up her tears and muffle her cries, again. She took a long-ragged breath and the sobs wracked her body.

**********

One of my many Twitter friends pointed out that the below information would be additionally helpful to post at the end of this scene. I completely agreed and am sorry I didn’t think of including it from the start as this issue is so important. The below sites offer information and help for those who may face this disturbing situation:

1. Child Molestation Research and Prevention Institute
2. The National Center for Victims of Crime
3. Child Abuse Hotline Info
4. Child Help

These are just a few of the resources available.

The post PG Love Scene Blogfest: Tory’s Day appeared first on Be the Cat.

So Thanks to Eisley Jacobs (@EisleyJacobs) over at Eisley’s Ellipses and Ann Arkie (@annarkie) of Supernatural Smut (isn’t it wonderful that I received this from two such dissimilar authors – the irony of this amuses me). If you have a Twitter account – follow both of these lovely ladies. Okay let’s get this over with. And for those who know me, it should not come as any surprise that I’ll follow some of the rules and bend others.

**An addendum to the above, I have also now been given this award back by Linda Welch (@welch6331) of Linda’s Worlds – apparently she wanted to share the wealth with me. Huh!

***Addendum number 2 – Monica Pierce (@ThePreyers) of Stalking Fiction has also returned the favor. I’m starting to think they didn’t appreciate the gift in the first place. Imagine that! AND I don’t yet see Monica’s award post.

****Addendum to addendum number 2 – The post is now (2/23/10) up at Stalking Fiction, so swing by & take a look. I might have to go into hiding soon, so if you don’t see me for awhile, you’ll know where to start looking.

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the person who gave this to you.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you.
4. Tell up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth.
5. Nominate seven three “Creative Writers” who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies.
6. Post links to the seven three blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them.

All righty then. The first three points are done. So here come the rest. Mind you, these may not be much because I don’t have a lot of practice with lies and while I do have several outrageous truths, I share them, so a lot of people know them already.

Which are lies, and wherein lies the truth?

1. Using past life regression therapy, I have discovered that I was once the Queen of Siam – which really explains my disdain for domesticity. I need servants to take care of me.
2. In school, my teachers put me through a battery of IQ tests to determine what level of genius I am then skipped me ahead a grade.
3. I see dead people.
4. My fear of snakes comes from having been chased by a water moccasin
5. There’s a black hole in my brain which is unexplainable by doctors
6. I have a grandmother who rode with the Hell’s Angels
7. I had to give up a career in professional softball due to knee injury

And who am I nominating to be the next victims recipients of this lovely award?

1. Monica Pierce (@ThePreyers) of Stalking Fiction because with her creativity and command of the English language, I can’t wait to see what lies she puts down
2. Linda Welch (@welch6331) of Linda’s Worlds because she has a quick wit and I’m really interested to see what she comes up with after she finishes cursing me for getting her involved
3. Shannon Yarbrough (@slyarbrough) of The Lone Writer because I always appreciate his point of view and I know he’ll be able to spin a tall tale for us.

All three of these folks are well worth a follow on Twitter, so don’t miss out. Now I’m off to leave comments on their blogs, and this award will be complete.

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