The lessons I have learned as a writer.

The lessons I have learned as a writer....

Write what you believe in.

Even if you want to write a popular genre write it the way you want to write it. Don't conform to fit a mold. There are already many stories out there doing that, be different. Open yourself up to risk in your work and most of all believe in every word that you put down, because they all meant something at one time.

Enjoy it.

What is writing if you don't enjoy it? It's nothing. If you can't enjoy your writing you shouldnt be writing. Yeah, there are always going to be times in your work where you want to skip over a scene or chapter and move on, but finding a way to enjoy what you do will make it so much easier. You can't take life so seriously all the time. There is room to be fun, to be silly with your words. Try it some time.

Always learn more.

Always, always always learn something new about writing. Find new ways to describe scenes, people, feelings. Sometimes all it takes is stepping back and watching a movie to pick up something new you can use in writing, or listening to music. Watch how people move, speak, act in different situations. Watch soap operas to understand drama. Read another author's book. Read a genre you wouldn't normally read. Just do something to gain a new skill toward writing. It makes the world of a difference.

Be you

Nobody writes like you. Sure we all have our favorite authors, but that doesn't mean we have to be them.

Close your eyes to the negative.

There is nothing you can do if somebody doesn't like your book. Remember, you don't always like everything you read either. Don't take it personal, move on. And if you have to dwell on it, at least try to pull something positive from it, or learn from it. Or better yet, don't worry about it. It is the way of the world, some people will try and pull you down, this happens some times as a writer, all you can do is deal with it the best way you know how. And remember all negatives are NOT someone attacking you viciously. Sometimes it's the cold hard truth, sometimes it's just simply not their cup of tea. Whatever the case may be you have to learn to grow a thick skin or you will never get anywhere. You can't live your life as a writer with pent up rage every time things don't go your way. Enjoy the times that they do, and brush off the times that they don't. You will feel a whole lot better for it. And remember your not the only one feeling this way, take a moment to remind yourself when you start to feel down.

Grow a thick skin

I wear my thick skin proudly. I have weathered the storm and made it out on the other side. We all go through that time in our writing life where we feel like we have been kicked in the teeth one way or another. But eventually you grow that thick skin and you feel invincible. You'll know it when it happens.

Always find new avenues

Do your research. As an indie you can never stop finding new ways to dive into writing, promoting and networking. Keep at it everyday if you need to. Hoard it all like those people on the show and use every tool you find, the more you reach out the better things will be for you in all ways.

Don't be stingy

I think all of us know someone else in the same boat as we are. Share what you learn with them, don't be a stingy jerk! Your not going to make it to the finish line because you hold all the tips and tricks, your going to feel a lot better sharing what you know with people just like you. Try it, you'll like it.

Offer up yourself, but also stay closed.

No matter how big or small your success is with writing, be human. Don't become to good to talk with readers and authors. We are all people. Just don't stretch yourself so thin that you end up not doing what you came to the party for, and that's writing books.

Feel for others.

There is going to be controversy. And some people want to jump on the bandwagon. Don't do this please. Take the time to put your self in that author's shoes before you decide to judge them. You might find out they are not as bad as the world wants to make them out to be. Or you might simply understand them and relate to them. Feel for others because one day you might find yourself in their shoes.

We are all the same.

It doesn't matter what we write, or how good we do it. We all have the desire to write. We all love it. Remember we are all the same, mingle with all types of writers because they all have something to teach you one way or another. Don't be a snob, it's tacky.

Try new things

Wander away from paranormal. Try something new, if you write mystery, maybe mix it up somehow, do something different one way or another, sometimes it helps. It's like a breath of fresh air. If you never wrote a steamy sex scene but enjoy reading them, try it. You might discover your really good at it. If your writing is more serious, try some humor. If you write in first person, try third. Just try something new. Do it already!

Oh boy!

Sunday Sample

I have decided to designate Sunday for excerpts from the books that I am working on. So if your curious about what I am writing here is a sneak peek. Enjoy and always feel free to let me know what you think here on the blog, twitter, Facebook or my new website.

The project I am currently working on is a story about a girl sent to rehab. She is going through a lot and has lost her best friend. Without giving away a bunch I will share that she is the cause of her best friends death. The book is an adult romance. And so far I am really liking where it is going. I hope everyone else does as well.

So here you go:

She stood in front of him her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know why the thought of touching him was making her so tense, but it was.

“I can’t promise anything. And you can’t sue me,” she said, staring at his dark head of hair. The kind of hair that belonged to someone famous, the kind of hair you slipped your fingers through and tugged here and there.

She dropped her spray bottle.

“Somebody’s clumsy today,” Hart said a big grin on his face. His dark eyebrows rose in amusement, he kept his eyes on her as she tried to convince herself to touch him.

“I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.” She came a bit closer, he smelled amazing. And the way he was staring at her with those eyes, those brilliant eyes of blue, rimmed with dark lashes.

She ran her fingers through the front of his hair, brushing it back on his head. “What do you want?”

Hart was silent.

Elle tilted her head to the side. “Hello?”

“Sorry.” He blinked. “Do whatever you want to me. I’m sure you’ll make me look great.”

Elle bit her lip, spraying him with the spray bottle. She started to work, combing and cutting. Trying to remember everything that she had learned in hopes she didn't butcher him.

“Got any plans tonight?” Hart asked, he stayed still, letting her try her best. 

“I plan on going home and eating some of my mom’s famous spaghetti and meatballs and then probably going to bed,” she told him. She spun the chair.

“Sounds like a blast,” he said. “You’re never going to give in are you?”

“Probably not.” She looked over his hair, taking him by the chin to turn him the way she needed to get a better look. The scruff on his chin tickled her finger tips, his teeth grazed his bottom lip drawing her eyes to his mouth. He had an amazing set of lips.

“For once just be honest. Am I just not the kind of person you want to be associated with? Is it the rehab thing?” he asked.

Elle shook her head quickly. “No. Hart, it has nothing to do with that, it’s just me. I can’t hang out with you. It’s not a good idea.”

She was with Pauly and in a bad place in her life. She wasn't the girl to be anyone’s friend. She had a hard time being friends with the ones in her life already.

He wasn't saying anything. And now she felt even worse.

“Alright, I’ll be honest. I’m not doing okay. I've never been okay and all I want to do is make it through without another emotional breakdown. I can’t add anything to my life because I’m afraid it will crumble. And the idea of going back to that place I was in scares the shit out of me,” she said.

She dropped her scissors and comb on her station. “Anyways, I think you’re good to go.”

Hart took the mirror she was offering, but didn't look in it. “Looks great.”

“You didn't even look,” she said.

“I don’t care about my hair.”

She rolled her eyes undoing the collar of the cape. “Don’t do that, don’t worry about me. You did the same thing a long time ago.”

“Someone needs to worry about you. One time, just come hang out with me. And after that I’ll leave you alone,” he said. “If I make your life worse than it already is I’ll never bother you again.”

“Why are you so insistent on doing this?” She shook her head. “I’m a mess; you know this better than anyone.”

“So am I,” he insisted. “One time, come be a mess with me.”

“Fine,” she tossed the cape on her station. “One time. You’ll see how much of a mess I am and you’ll quickly go running for the hills.”

She hoped she didn't regret the choice she made. Because making choices was the hardest thing anymore.

Have a great Sunday!!

Saturday Surprise!

Saturday Sneak Peek


My eyes opened as soon as I heard him come through the door. He was home, but I quickly shut them and stayed warm nestled underneath Moms knitted Afghan. Dad set his keys down on the dining room table and settled into his favorite spot.
“Good your home,” Austin said from the recliner. He always woke up when Dad was getting home from a late shift. I swore any other time he slept like a rock.
Dad wasn’t one to discuss his career with me. I was a girl, I was extra sensitive to the ways of the world, as he put it. Austin was a grown man. He could handle hearing about all the gore.
“John Moore’s fixing that old barn finally, I hear he’s buying more horses,” Dad said.
“What happened out there?” Austin asked, if Dad was at the Moore’s it meant one of two things. John was dead or someone nearby was.
Dad was silent for a couple seconds. I opened my eyes just the slightest. Dad stroked the stubble on his chin. His sleek fingers came to a stop right before he began talking.
“It was the weirdest thing. We got out to the address, it was the house across the street from the Moore’s. The only thing I noticed was blood and a broken window.” Dad grabbed for the remote.
I squeezed my eyes shut staying still. No body. That was unheard of. I wondered what Dad thought about it.
“What about the neighbors,” Austin asked. “You guys are by the book. You had to have gone door to door to figure it out right?”
Dad cleared his throat. “Of course, but at any rate, it made my night shorter. Another dead body would have kept me up for days trying to find the suspect behind it.”
I scratched my nose, unable to keep still any longer.
“What are you doing listening?” Dad snapped. I sat up, snagging my pillow off the couch. I rolled my eyes heading for the stairs.
“I wouldn’t have to eavesdrop if you ever told me anything about what goes on around here,” I grumbled.
“Raven, some things are better left unknown. What good would it do for you to know how ugly this world is?” Dad asked. He said the same thing every time I tried to be included in his life.
“Being naïve gets a girl nowhere either. It gets them in trouble. That's what Mom used to say,” I stuck out my chin, giving dad a good stare and headed for the stairs.
I hit the light and crawled under the covers, staring at the moon as it beamed through my curtains, illuminating everything in its path. I loved the soft glow it made. It reminded me when I was little, when my Mom and I would sit on the porch and watch the fireflies at night. Her soft hair always tickled my shoulders when she hugged me. She smelled like flowers and cinnamon. It was the only memory I really had of her.
Mom was always trying to instill wisdom in me even when I was a little girl. Even before some of the rules applied, before I even knew any of it would mean anything to me. Now it all meant something.
I closed my eyes; the soft sounds outside easily lulled me to sleep.

Enjoy the weekend!

Take a peek!

Forever and Never

I stood at the back door, waiting for my dad to finish up.  I gripped the dish rag, my fingers damp, my hair lazily spilled in front of my eyes making everything in front of me  hazy, out of place, like everything else in life.

Hunter kept driving his remote control car across the uneven porch. Its incessant buzz made it almost impossible to overhear what the newest town nightmare was. However, I knew it was something. Dad was only working when someone was dead.

“Hunter, stop it. I’m trying to hear.” I hissed, not taking my eyes off of Dad or the local sheriff from our small town. Hunter, my ten-year-old brother ignored me, like he always did, and ran his car right over my bare toes.

He grinned, pleased with his torture. “You don’t need to hear about dead bodies.”

I rolled my eyes. What did he know?

As his car flew back around I gave it a swift kick sending it flying out of the open door and into the bushes. I smiled, pleased.

Headlights materialized on the kitchen wall, signaling it was time for Hunter to go. We shared the same dad. His mother, Wendy, only allowed Dad to see him on Wednesdays.

I lifted his duffel bag I packed for him and handed it over, running a hand over his messy brown hair. “See you later, punk.”

“See you later,” Hunter said, slugging me in the arm before he ran out the front door.....

Hope everyone enjoyed a peek at the new book. I think I will post a little more next week. I am looking forward to sharing this series with everyone in December! Feel free to let me know your thoughts.

Holly

Celebrate Ink 2 release with me!

Want more Slade?

In honor of Ink 2 coming out this month, I will be giving away some Ink-related swag along with a free copy of Ink 2 to one lucky winner! If you haven't read the first and enjoy a good paranormal romance, check it out on Amazon.

Thanks everyone for the support! I wanted to do something fun for the release of Ink 2, so I have some cool swag that reminds me of Ink, along with a paperback copy of my favorite book. I can't wait to find out who gets to enjoy it!



I will be posting pictures of the swag soon! 


Happy reading!!

Holly Hood

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We all should marry a vampire.

Why are we drawn to the dark side? Why do we love books so much?

How many of us in real life would want our boyfriend slipping through our window in the middle of the night like Edward Cullen? How many of us wish we were Bella Swan or Elena Gilbert?

How many girls would really like to know that their boyfriend is running around feasting on the blood of humans? Or that they would prefer to rip us limb to limb then love us.

Why is Eric Northman such a hot commodity in True Blood that he makes you want to lose all sense of reality and throw caution to the wind?

Being a writer of paranormal romance and young adult books I get it. I also read both genre 99% of the time.

I am afraid of the unknown in my real life, but to read about it, well, it’s almost soothing and exciting.

There’s Edward Cullen, Damon Salvatore, Bill Compton, and those are just the angry brooding vampires. But be it through reading the stories or watching the TV shows and movies you can’t help falling in love.

I mean admit it; would we even care if they were sweet and nice and doing all the right things? No.

With so much going on in the lives of woman my age it’s easy to lose yourself in a good story about the paranormal. About vampires or fallen angels and for me it’s because it’s my internal vacation from so many things in the world that just suck some times.

Reading a story where I can run away from all my worries and have a thrill, grow a crush and when I close the book or shut off my kindle everything in my own world is still intact and right where I left it, that is comforting.

Maybe some of us don’t think we will ever have anything exciting to talk about or live through. Some of us might even be too afraid to admit we want that. Whatever the reason may be we deserve to have enjoyment on the day to day.

Fictional characters are that cupcake we can’t eat because we are watching our calories. They are that wild night on the town where we danced until our feet blistered—only we never did because secretly we are too shy to do so. They say and speak the words we only wished we were brave enough to speak ourselves.

It might be fiction, but there is a lot about reading a good book with a dark character that speaks the truth.

In books unlike real life the kid that gets bullied could be the coolest kid out there. You see that people know how to be kind to one another; you see that people know how to have fun; you see that not everything is as bad as we think in books.

What could be better than that?