It took me five years to write my first book. As a kid I always had a vivid imagination and wanted to escape my reality by creating little worlds that I could spend time in. I started writing Awakening right after high school. It’s had several incarnations, and ended up being too long for one book. I split it into two and Sacred was born.
When I moved to Texas for two years in 2010, I met a wonderful person named Nina. We immediately hit it off and she offered to read over what I’d written. I waited—biting off all my fingernails as I did—and when she got back to me, she told me how much she’d loved the story and the characters, especially Aidan, the blonde and tattooed punk kid with sarcasm for a brain.
That gave me some confidence to move forward. After I moved back home and met my husband, Eric, he pushed me to publish after reading them. if it hadn’t been for those two I might never have pushed the publish button.
Once I was introduced to the world of self-publishing, so many people helped me along the way. You hear so many stories of author being vindictive or having their little cliques, but so far I’ve been very lucky to meet the women I have. They’ve shared their secrets, their battle plans, and their friendship. They’ve given me confidence when I lacked it, a shoulder to cry on when reviews were painful or writing was frustrated, and someone to laugh with over plots, strong female characters, and hunky men.
It’s been two years since I first published and I have four more books out now. I can’t say it’s any easier to write a book, but I do feel a warm, fuzzy feeling every time I finish one. (That could be the wine, but shhhh).