Writing in the Cracks of a Day: How I Juggle Kids, a Day Job, and a Thriller Series with SZ Estavillo

People often ask how I manage to write books while raising kids and working a full-time job — and the honest answer is: I write in the cracks of a day. Very few of us have the luxury of sitting down for eight uninterrupted hours with a candlelit desk, a quiet house, and a mug of tea that stays hot. I certainly don’t.

I’m a mom to a four-year-old and a ten-year-old. I have a day job. And I write thriller novels on deadline. My life is loud, busy, joyful, overwhelming — and deeply creative. But it took me a while to find a rhythm that works.

The Power of Writing Sprints

Writing sprints are my lifeline. Instead of trying (and failing) to carve out huge blocks of time, I treat my writing like small, focused bursts.

A morning sprint while the kids are still waking up.

An afternoon sprint squeezed between tasks.

An evening sprint when the house finally, finally quiets down.

It doesn’t sound glamorous — because it isn’t. But it gets the words written. And when you add up all those sprints, suddenly there are chapters, and eventually, there’s a book.

You Don’t Need Perfect Conditions — You Need Momentum

One of the biggest myths in writing is that you need a perfect environment before you can create something meaningful. You don’t. You just need moments. Even messy ones. Some days I get 200 words, other days I get 1,000. Both days count. Both days move me forward.

A Supportive Partner Makes All the Difference

I also have to acknowledge something important: my husband is a huge part of why I can do this. He takes the kids out of the house, gives me pockets of quiet, and supports this dream fully. Writing becomes a lot more possible when the people around you believe in what you're doing.

Finding Your Own Balance

If you’re a writer with a family, a job, responsibilities, or just a very full life, please know this: you are not behind. You are not failing. You are writing in the real world, and that counts.

Writing doesn’t require a perfect schedule. It requires commitment, flexibility, and the courage to keep going even when life is busy.

One sprint at a time.

One page at a time.

One book at a time.

That’s how we do it.

The Serpent’s Order

The Serpent Series

Book 4

SZ Estavillo

Genre: Thriller

Publisher: Oliver-Heber

Date of Publication: February 10, 2026

ASIN: B0FX5TFVLP

Number of pages: 314

Word Count: 90, 219

Cover Artist: Oliver-Heber

Tagline: An assassin bound by obedience. A detective marked for death. A cartel war with no survivors.

Book Description:

Von Schlange thought she’d escaped her past. Now Black Nova owns her—an elite, off-the-books task force where obedience is survival and failure means death. As their newest assassin, she’s unleashed on targets tied to Jaxon Ryker, a drug lord buried deep in the Alaskan wilds.

Her partner, Xander Holt, a former Navy SEAL with ice in his veins, lives by the same brutal code: no attachments, no lines crossed. But as missions turn bloody, the fragile boundary between partner and lover begins to blur—and desire becomes its own kind of danger.

Across the country, Detective Anaya Nazario faces a nightmare of her own. A synthetic “zombie drug,” deadlier than fentanyl and immune to Narcan, is ripping through Los Angeles. Her investigation exposes a network of dirty cops shielding Ryker’s empire—and puts a target squarely on her back.

Two women on opposite fronts. One war against corruption and cartel power. And a single truth—every betrayal leaves a body behind.

Explosive, unrelenting, and razor-sharp, The Serpent’s Order propels the Serpent Series into its most dangerous chapter yet—where justice is a myth, and survival comes at a price paid in blood.

Amazon

Book Trailer:

https://www.tiktok.com/@szestavillo.author/video/7573464953785535774

 

 

Excerpt:

 

Darkness pressed against her eyes. The air carried no warmth, only a damp cold that burrowed into her marrow. The metallic taste on her tongue sharpened. Air scraped colder against her throat. Every nerve screamed awake as the chemical fog bled out of her veins. It was easy to fend off the hazy pull of delirium when it felt like she was sitting in an ice box. Frigid salty air wrapped her in an arctic grip, numbing her body. The sound of the seas never betrayed its location, offering no clues as to her whereabouts until the blackout hood was lifted.

Her surroundings winked awake, blurring slowly into focus. Faint traces of soot and aged timber amplified the cabin’s solitude. As her vision sharpened, the first thing she saw was the rugged glaciers looming beyond the drafty windows. Snow consumed the landscape, a frozen expanse as thick as packed sugar, burying the world beneath at least twenty inches of wintery silence. At a distance, she could hear how the ocean roiled, a wild, restless beast, while the bitter subzero terrain stretched in stark harmony with the gray horizon.

Groggy, her eyes roamed in search of Zeus, panic setting in, forcing her heart to quicken until she spotted him across the room in a dark corner. Her head felt like a thousand-pound weight pressed down on her skull, each pulse of pain a hammer striking her temples. She found herself passed out on a lounger that looked to be a decade old—at least her kidnappers, or rather, her new boss—had the courtesy to leave her somewhere relatively comfortable. At the sound of her steps, Zeus lifted his head, tail thumping against the rickety wooden floorboards, though not quite making it to his feet.

It looked like she wasn’t the only one trying to shake herself out of the cocktail she’d been injected with, as Zeus tried to drag himself up. She knelt beside him and massaged his legs, trying to coax circulation back into his limbs. After a few minutes, Zeus soldiered to his feet, the kneading doing the trick. Von exhaled, tension ebbing at the reassuring presence of her loyal companion. She ambled back to the kitchen, taking in her surroundings while Zeus kept time with her steps. A thin film of dust coated the kitchen counters and cupboards, telling her that time had been the lonely cabin’s sole friend for a long while.

She rooted around, discovering there were enough dishes for one person, and the fridge had been stocked with salads and fruit. At least her mysterious employer had the decency to respect her food preferences. They even left a bowl of dried dog food and water for Zeus. How thoughtful. She smirked at their attention to detail as she headed to the bedroom—and then she saw it.

Sitting dead center on the bed, the phone was waiting for her.

Sleek, black, and unbranded—just a smooth slab of technology with no markings or logos, nothing to indicate who made it. While it appeared to be just another typical high-end smartphone, Von knew better. This wasn’t an ordinary device. It was a leash. She picked it up. Lighter than she expected. No buttons, no ports, no removable SIM card. Completely sealed. The kind of hardware designed to be untouchable, tamper-proof. Not to be trusted. The screen stayed dark for a ten-count before flickering to life, awakened by a simple touch. The interface was equal parts minimalist and sterile.

Nothing personal. No apps. No browser. Just a lone notification, already there.

“Welcome to Black Nova.”

She flipped it in her hand, examining it. There wasn’t even a password prompt, fingerprint, or facial recognition scan. Von wasn’t logging in. She was already in—immediate access like it knew her. Then she remembered where she’d seen one before: Jefferson Pierce. Former Marine-turned-hacker, an asset for the FBI. Asset. The word twisted in her stomach, acidic and biting. She recalled the words—“federal asset”—before her world went black. Right before they took her.

“Silent Circle—” Jefferson had called it.

“A what?” She recalled how her brows had knitted together, confused over the unfamiliar phone. “Never heard of it.”

“Military-grade. Locked down tight. End-to-end encrypted calls and messages.”

“Sounds a bit paranoid,” Von had said.

“For what I do—I gotta be. Safest, most private phone out on the market.

She recognized it now. Its black matte finish and elegant, no-nonsense style. But it wasn’t hers—it was theirs. A direct line to the people who had dragged her into this. Her permission not needed. Her choices, her next movements, her next breath would be dictated, assigned. The second she thought this, the phone rang. She stared at it, letting it ring three times before quietly answering.

“You’re awake. Good. Commander Lucian Cain here, in case your memory needs a little reminder,” a calm, authoritative voice began. “Let’s see if we didn’t make a mistake bringing you into the fold.”

“Where the hell am I?”

“Kodiak Island.”

“Fucking Alaska?”

“Impressed you know your geography—most people don’t know where Kodiak Island is,” Cain said. “Before we officially begin, you must complete our test.”

“And if I fail?”

“Don’t think failure’s in your DNA,” he said, then switched to German, “Schlangenfrau.”

She hadn’t intended to assume the title of the Serpent Woman, not before the brutal attack that dragged her to the edge of death. Her guts shredded, body mutilated and left infertile, stripped of the capacity to bear life. A monstrous snake-like crimson keloid scar now etched its path along her abdomen, sewn back up like an object in a sterile lab—efficiently reconstructed like a modern Frankenstein experiment, an uncanny patchwork that left her hollow.

Von Schlange—Schlangenfrau—the Serpent Woman had become her signature.

 

About the Author:

As a BIPOC thriller author, she previously parted amicably with her agent and, three months later, secured an eight-book deal with Oliver-Heber Books—now boasting 24,000 downloads in its first year and a BookRaid bestseller ranking in the thriller category. The Serpent Woman (Book 2) reached #1 on Amazon and topped all three of its categories. Her background spans literary agencies and TV studios, where she contributed to greenlit screenplays that became Lifetime movies. She holds a Master’s in Television, Radio, and Film, has taught author branding workshops (L.A. Writer’s Conference, North Texas RWA), and maintains a 100K+ social media following.

https://x.com/szestavillo 

https://www.instagram.com/szestavillo.author/ 

https://www.threads.com/@szestavillo.author 

https://www.facebook.com/sonyozofiaestavillo/ 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/49349032.S_Z_Estavillo 

https://www.amazon.com/stores/S.Z.-Estavillo/author/B0D1NMYNBC 

Poetry Corner with Wren Valentino #MMRomance #Poetry

Cherry Drop

by Wren Valentino

I was the misfit king

of the 1970's school 

playground. While other boys

opted for kickball, dodge

ball, and violence. I mastered

Tetherball, Double Dutch, Chinese

jump rope. Nothing left to conquer,

I moved on to free standing bars, 

one short, one tall. They were

a motionless dangerous duo made of

cool-to-the-touch metal. Each 

contained a single horizontal bar,

held up by more metal resembling

goal posts. Some used them for

chin ups, pulls ups. I was double

dared to perform the cherry drop. 

Sitting on top of the tall bar, I had

a broad view of recess and beyond.

Around me they gathered: my classmates

with blood hungry eyes, waiting. 

I'd seen others do the illegal maneuver

but had never tried the trick, not

out of fear, but out of my already

secret desire to perfect perfection.

With the backs of my knees hooked,

I tilted back. The world flipped

upside down. I breathed in

and smelt the wooden bark beneath me, 

pieces of evil we knew better to walk 

barefoot on because it gave you splinters

between your toes. I knew the bark

would never cushion my fall. I knew 

I wasn't allowed to fail. I started to

move back and forth, forward and back,

gaining momentum and speed. I was

a human eight-year-old rocket, ready

for my first taste of notoriety, gossip,

hot shot fame. I propelled myself

through the air, knowing from that day

forward I would always land on my feet.

The Christmas Knockout

Wren Valentino

Genre: M/M Romance

Publisher: Blue Dasher Press 

Date of Publication: 12/5/2025

ASIN: B0G5B8G3H1

Word Count: 5K

Cover Artist: James at GoOnWrite.com

Tagline: When a lonely reporter meets a legendary fighter, Christmas delivers its sweetest knockout.

Book Description: 

A steamy, romantic Christmas Eve encounter between a lonely reporter and a charming boxing champion. When journalist Grayson Lane meets newly out boxing star Sergio Cavallo, their interview quickly turns into an unexpected escape from a stuffy gala and a night filled with honesty, heat, and holiday vulnerability. In Grayson’s tiny apartment, sparks fly and two lonely men discover a connection neither saw coming.

Amazon

Excerpt:

Dressed as formally as his casual wardrobe allowed, Grayson arrived sans tie at the staff entrance of a local banquet hall. It was only a few blocks away from the three-story building where the newspaper had occupied for nearly a hundred years, and a short walk from his one-bedroom apartment he shared with a fluffy cat named Duke. The streets were wet from a rumbling rainstorm that had decided to take a short break, much to Grayson’s luck. Sparkling Christmas lights shimmered in puddles, covering the cobblestoned alley with a palette of cozy holiday hues. The banquet hall was similar in neo-Gothic architecture as the old newspaper building. Locals swore the place was haunted just by the sight of it. Secretly, Grayson hoped it was.

He rang the entrance bell and waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot. When there was no response, he rang again. Finally, the old door creaked open, revealing a scruffy man in a tuxedo, sporting large, black-framed glasses. The man eyed Grayson for an explanation for this intrusion.

“I’m Grayson Lane,” he said. When that didn’t get him invited inside, he continued. “I’m here to interview Sergio Cavallo.”

“You’re a reporter?” the man rumbled in a gravelly voice. For a moment, Grayson half-expected to see the swirl of cigarette smoke in the air as if he’d somehow stumbled into a classic film noir.

Sir, are you related to Humphrey Bogart by any chance?

“Yes, I am,” Grayson explained, shivering.

The man glanced him over and said, “You look like a delivery boy.”

“Thanks,” he muttered. “May I see Sergio now?”

With what looked like reluctance, the man with salt and pepper wavy hair nodded and pushed the door open wider. It creaked again and Grayson couldn’t help but wonder if the spooky sound was a warning.

Once inside, Grayson was led down a series of dimly lit corridors, all with walls adorned with framed paintings of the Scottish founders of the city and, apparently, the ones responsible for the building they were moving through.

            Finally, they stopped. The man in the tuxedo knocked on a door before entering. He looked back and said to Grayson, “Come. Mr. Cavallo is waiting for you.”

            Pausing for a moment in the hallway, Grayson drew in a steadying breath, reflecting over the hours of research he’d conducted to prepare for this assignment. Exhaling, he opened the door and entered the room. Glancing around, Grayson determined he was standing in the center of a private lounge that was trying hard to be swanky but really looked like the set of an adult film, complete with dimmed lighting in not-so-subtle shades of hot pink, electric blue, and amber. The furniture was leather, and the carpet looked thick and soft.

Positioned as if he were sitting on a throne was Sergio Cavallo, looking rather distinguished in a fashionable blazer, slacks, and crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone to reveal olive-tinged bare skin. The dark-haired Italian boxer looked like the undefeated boxing champ that he was, The King of The Ring as many commentators appropriately referred to him. No wonder many had fallen under his spell.

            What Grayson wasn’t expecting was how flushed he felt when Sergio looked into his eyes and with a delicious and very inviting smile said, “Well…hello. You’re not what I was expecting.”

            Trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside of him, Grayson held Sergio’s stare and responded confidently, “And neither are you. I’m Grayson Lane.”

            The boxer leaned forward. His dark brown eyes held an expression of tenderness, despite his savage reputation of being a beast of a boxer. His facial hair was a few shades lighter than the almost jet-black hair on his head and looked like a modern version of a Van Dyke. “I’m curious,” said Sergio. Grayson felt the man’s eyes wash over his body as if he were drinking water from his pores. “Grayson, am I somehow a disappointment?”

            Grayson spied an empty chair directly across from Sergio. Not waiting to be asked to sit, he took a seat, sinking into the soft leather. The comfort of the chair soothed his nerves, grounding him in the moment. “Not at all,” he said. “It’s not every day I get to interview a champion.”

            Seeming satisfied with Grayson’s answer, Sergio grinned. “I like you,” he noted.

            “Give it time,” Grayson countered with a playful tone to match the smile on his face.

            “I’m ready when you are,” Sergio said, his words dripping with hot innuendo. “For the interview, I mean.”

 

About the Author:

Wren Valentino is a multifaceted storyteller—an actor, author, entrepreneur, film producer, critic, and instructor—whose work spans stage, screen, and page. A bestselling novelist with twenty-one books across romance, thriller, young adult, and horror, he has built a reputation for crafting emotionally rich, genre-spanning narratives.

An accomplished playwright, Wren has written more than seventy stage plays produced in twelve countries and three languages. His success extends to the screen as well, with eight original screenplays and seven stage plays adapted into films. As a film producer, he has contributed to the creation of over one hundred independent movies, and as an actor, he has appeared in more than forty films.

Wren earned his Bachelor of Arts in Communications and English from Oglethorpe University, graduating with honors. He holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Queens University of Charlotte and completed the Professional Program in Screenwriting at UCLA.

A dedicated member of the writing community, Wren belongs to Contemporary Romance Writers, the International Screenwriters’ Association, Rainbow Romance Writers, and the Romance Writers of America, which recognized his service with a Volunteer Service Award.

https://wrenvalentino.com

https://www.facebook.com/wrenvalentino/

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https://www.tiktok.com/@wrenvalentino

https://x.com/wrenvalentino  (NSFW/18+)

The Princess of the Wraiths by Peregrinus Hierusalemsis

In my memoir titled “The Princess of the Wraiths” I describe that in 2007 a small building was demolished in the garden of Quinta Santa Hildegarda, my Cuernavaca house. Furthermore, I described how I transformed that area into a biodiversity garden. Now I shall state how that happened. This explanation will be by far more detailed than the brief paragraph in my book.

Usually, when a natural environment is harmed, nature restores herself. For example, after a volcano eruption, all plant life that is covered by lava is destroyed. After lava dries and becomes a lava field there are just rocks and nothing else. Soon bacteria and prokaryotic archaea arrived due to wind currents. They start colonizing the rock and fixating nitrogen from the air. 

This allows plants to start living in the rocks. As nutrients become more common in the soil, new plant species arrive. The new plant species need to compete for resources with the first species that arrived in the lava field. This often leads to some species becoming more common and others just disappearing. In that way, the habitat changes. Different plants are eaten by different species of animals, so also animal diversity changes as well. As the soil becomes richer in nutrients due to the activity of bacteria, prokaryotic archaea, chlorophyte algae, plants, and fungi, the habitat changes more times until a full-grown forest reappears in a place that was formerly destroyed by a volcano. This does not only happen with volcanic eruptions. It also occurs after hurricanes or anthropogenic disturbances. 

For example, in my book “The Princess of the Wraiths” I state how all mangroves in Celestún and Sisal were destroyed by Hurricane Gilbert when I was a child. Years later, they recovered themselves and now are full-grown forests. This process by which nature restores herself is known as ecological succession.

As I stated at the beginning of this blog entry, I wanted to have a garden in the place where a building was demolished. I decided to test nature to see how she would restore herself, so I wanted to see what would happen if I did not disturb the land. Many garden plants are exotic species. Instead of planting a garden full of exotic species I wanted to have a garden of native plants. To achieve that I would allow ecological succession to happen. I would see how nature would restore that land without any human help. I did not even remove the demolished building. I wanted to see how plants could grow in the bare building materials. After all, Cuernavaca is close to the lava field that was produced by Mount Chichinautzin, a volcano, after it erupted. The lava field was colonized by plants even if it originally lacked fertile soil. 

Ecological succession happened soon after I left everything undisturbed in the demolished building. Some plants started to grow over the bricks. Their roots started to destroy all the building materials. Some of these plants were trees, that started to grow vigorously. I decided to avoid watering the plants. I wanted only plants that were suited to the rainy season of Cuernavaca. In that way I would achieve having a fully native garden that would reflect the wild biodiversity of Cuernavaca. 

At some point small herbs stopped growing, as a huge vine started to cover the whole garden. That was useful, because as soon as dry season started, the dried leaves were transformed into soil by bacteria and fungi. That allowed herbs to grow again, but this time the herbs were not species that grew over bare rock. Eventually, the trees grew. Bocconia and Ficus trees shaded the garden. Forest herb species were able to grow in the shade. That is similar to the original biota of the place where Quinta Santa Hildegarda is found, as such an area was full of forests in old times. 

Now, there is soil in that place. It is full of native wildlife. I did not pay for any of the plant species that grow there, as they arrived due to the wind, and to the birds that visit the garden. The plants that are growing there are the most suitable for the insects that live in Cuernavaca, as they are not exotic plants. The native insects obviously coevolved with the native plants.

You can read about ecological succession and other ecological phenomena in my memoir “The Princess of the Wraiths.”

You can read the book online on Scribd.

The so-called “Princess of the Wraiths” is the villain at the end of the book.

The Princess of the Wraiths

Peregrinus Hierusalemsis

Genre: YA Memoir

Publisher: Books to Hook Publishing, LLC.

Date of Publication: 21st of June 2025

ISBN: 979-8-89283-269-4

Word Count: 262,705 

Cover Artist: Katarzyna Burzmińska 

Book Description:

Biologist-turned-author Peregrinus Hierusalemsis presents “The Princess of the Wraiths: an herbal, bestiary, human zoo, and memoir,” a captivating book that intertwines science, spirituality, and personal growth. This memoir offers a profound look at the intersections of love, knowledge, and resilience, all while reflecting on the author's rich experiences. 

Peregrinus describes the cultural experiences that he lived while growing up in Mexico between the years 1984 and 2002. He also discusses his later life in the United Kingdom and Sweden. During this time, the 2000s culture is explored.

At its core, the book conveys a powerful message: knowledge and wisdom are the ultimate tools for living a successful life. Through deeply personal anecdotes, Peregrinus touches on universal themes such as the influence of global events on individual lives, overcoming fears, seeking spiritual teachers, and navigating love and relationships. Richly illustrated with 94 handmade natural history and people-focused illustrations, this memoir provides not only an intellectual feast but also a visual delight. 

Key highlights include childhood fears of ghosts, mystical experiences, navigating young adult relationships, and insights into the biodiversity of our natural world. Peregrinus also sheds light on his experience avoiding toxic relationships, a lesson that inspired the title, “The Princess of the Wraiths.” The Princess of the Wraiths is a woman who is able to produce nightmares using hypnosis. Defeating her was Peregrinus’s greatest challenge. Through this work, readers will uncover how science and spirituality can coexist to offer a broader understanding of reality. 

This unique memoir is available for free online, making it an accessible and enriching read for anyone interested in exploring the depths of science, spirituality, and personal evolution.

FREE Download at Scribd

Excerpt:

 

Regarding death, my grandmother Lorenza used to tell me an anecdote that happened to her while she was a kid. She was an orphan, so she went to live with her grandmother, who became her primary caregiver. My great-great-grandmother lived in Los Ranchos de San José, a village close to Villa Guerrero, State of Mexico. In her house, there was a black cherry tree (Prunus serotina). One night, a great horned owl (Bubo virginianus) perched on a branch of the tree and started to vocalize. My great-great-grandmother thought that such an event was an omen. She claimed that meant that she would soon die. Thus, she told Lorenza to do whatever she could to scare the owl. My grandmother Lorenza was unable to scare the owl. The owl vocalized in the same place for several nights, and my great-great-grandmother died less than a month after the owl started hooting. After the burial, Ismaela arrived to tell her niece Lorenza that she should leave the house to go to live with her, as Lorenza was still a kid. When both were leaving the house, Lorenza claimed that she did not want to leave the building, as she was able to listen to the ghostly voice of my dead great-great-grandmother who was calling her inside…

According to the Graeco-Roman Olympian religion, Ascalaphus was an angel of the Hades God. Hades is the dwelling place of the souls of the dead. The task of Ascalaphus was to snatch the souls of dying people to Hades. Ascalaphus was transformed into an owl by Persephone the Kore, the queen of Hell. Since then, owl Ascalaphus has visited dying people before they finally died. That is why Pliny the Elder stated in his “Natural History” that the Eurasian eagle-owl (Bubo bubo) was an extremely bad omen. Spanish bishop St. Isidore of Seville transferred this superstition to Christian Catholicism in his book “Etymologiae.”

About the Author:

Peregrinus Hierusalemsis is a biologist, writer, and seeker whose life has woven together science, philosophy, and spirituality. A graduate of the University of Edinburgh (2010) with a degree in biology, he has published scientific papers on biodiversity and worked in plant sciences, entomology, and molecular biology since 2009. His professional passion lies in systematics, the classification of living things, while his personal explorations reach into philosophy, metaphysics, and the world’s ancient spiritual traditions.

From early encounters with eastern philosophy in childhood karate lessons in Mexico, to late-night debates on western philosophy with friends, to the guidance of a spiritual teacher during his A-level years in the UK, Peregrinus has always sought to understand life’s hidden patterns. These experiences, alongside his scientific training, shape his unique voice which can be described as a bridge between the empirical and the mystical.

His debut work, The Princess of the Wraiths: an herbal, bestiary, human zoo, and memoir, invites readers into a journey that blends memoir with natural history, spiritual reflection, and philosophical inquiry.

Cover Reveal: Selecting The Wrong Love by E. Masson and Julie G. Henry

Selecting The Wrong Love 

The LoveWade Tale Series 

Book One

E. Masson and Julie G. Henry

Genre: Romance 

Publisher: Author E. Masson , LLC

Pre-Order: 02-20-2026

ASIN: B0FWX8GBLP

Cover Artist: Marina

Tagline: Three men. One future. A choice that will change everything.

Book Description:

Love can turn your life upside down. 

Sometimes more than once…

Just ask Amber…..

Amber thought she knew exactly what she wanted. 

She was wrong.

Medical school. Career. Success. Everything mapped out perfectly until three men walked into her life and turned her world upside down.

James crashed into her on campus and never really left. Sweet, steady, completely devoted. He became the friend she couldn't live without, even though his eyes promised so much more. But Amber had bigger plans than falling for a business major student.

Then Levi appeared like a gift from the universe. Gorgeous, brilliant, medical school's golden boy. When he chose her out of everyone else, Amber felt invincible. This was it. This was her perfect match.

One positive pregnancy test later, and Amber's carefully constructed future crumbled. Medical school could wait. Dreams could be rebuilt later. She married her prince and prepared for happily ever after.

What she got instead was a nightmare in designer clothes.

Years of trying to save a marriage that was doomed from the start left Amber broken and questioning everything. While she was busy playing the perfect wife, the perfect man had been waiting in the wings. Still single. Still hopeful. Still completely in love with the woman who'd shattered his heart.

But some chances expire. And Amber's running out of time to claim the love she was too blind to see.

Will she wake up before it's too late? 

Get your copy at Amazon and start reading to find out.  

Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItiXY96E-dI

About the Author:

Hello lovely readers! Welcome to my corner of the literary world, where fiction comes alive in all its glory! I am E. Masson, a captivating romance author with my pen dipped in dreams and a heart full of romance, I set my readers on the path of unforgettable journeys through the depths of the human heart. From whirlwind romances to slow-burning love stories, each page of my books are infused with warmth and emotion, leaving readers yearning for more.

I have a talent for creating characters you'll adore while feeling like old friends and settings that transport you to new worlds. I am here to sweep you off your feet with every word. So, get ready to rediscover the joy of falling in love with my enchanting romance novels. Welcome to the adventure!

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New Release: Guarded Time by Stephanie Hansen #NewRelease #Historical #Romantasy

New Release

Outlander Meets What the Wind Knows with a Dash of The Tudors

 

Guarded Time

Stephanie Hansen

 

Genre: Historical Romantasy

 

Claudia, Alex, and Marie embark on a perilous journey back through the swirling mists of time, their hopes pinned on averting a looming tragedy. As they navigate the tangled web of history, vivid memories of Alex and Claudia’s enduring love flicker across the timelines, a testament to their unyielding bond. Their destination is the tumultuous Ireland of 1649, a land poised precariously on the brink of siege. It is a treacherous era to traverse, where danger lurks at every corner.

 

In their quest, they immerse themselves within the ancient covens, becoming an integral part of the tightly knit community of Drogheda. The air is thick with tension, the kind that crackles and hums, as they wrestle with the monumental task before them. Caught in the crossfire of history, they face the daunting challenge of halting the impending slaughter of the town while grappling with the complex emotions tied to saving the beloved of their sworn nemesis.

 

As the stakes grow ever higher, the question looms large: will the timeless love between Alex and Claudia endure the trials they face, or are there formidable forces at work beyond their control, threatening to unravel the very fabric of their shared destiny?

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FLQP9MSP/

 

#ReincarnatedSouls #TimeTravel #GirlSquad #Sorcery #ItsAlwaysBeenYou #SoulMate #Romantasy #HistoricalFiction

 

 

 

Poetry Corner with Kimber Grey #PoetryCorner

Too Good to be True

 

Withered soul and wicked heart, and mind foul, sharp and chill.

Where once a human dwelt himself, a monster lies instead.

How come such a loathsome soul, that once was pure now ill?

The tale is long, the story short, e'er played inside his head.

-

Once a love he had to claim, so fair, and kind, and true.

And once he lived among his own; he laughed and dwelt in peace.

Much they did not have to own, nor any sins to rue.

They made a life within their means it seemed would never cease.

-

Hand in hand they faced the world when trials came to bear.

Though wavering in doubt and fear, they never bent a knee.

Weakened by their sore ordeals, his joy now came but rare.

Yet she could find the light in dusk and tried to help him see.

-

Every day he grew to fear from whence her strength now came.

He couldn't find in her a fault, and yet in him there were.

'Secrets she must have from me', to mirror he'd declaim.

A seed of doubt became a vine that love could not deter.

-

Long into the nights he thought, imagining her mind.

'From where do all her smiles come?' he queried to the black.

'No, I cannot be her bliss; not handsome, wise, or kind.'

'Another man has robbed her heart; I'll never win her back.'

-

Once he could no longer bear to see her smiling face,

He stopped her then demanding firm, "What man has smitten you?"

She touched his cheek and kissed his lips, her smile sweet and chaste.

No quick defense she simply said, "Can you not see I'm true?"

-

For a time his heart found peace, her words a soothing balm.

So many nights he closed his eyes and dreams were all he knew.

When his judgment brought no strife, and she was ever calm,

He asked again, and she replied, "Can you not see I'm true?"

-

Every time she reassured, his peace endured but less.

Yet she was ever calm and cool, and never showed him scorn.

Where she found support and love, he could not help but guess.

Imaginings he found so bleak, in silence won't be borne.

-

Competition, real or ghost, tormented all his thought.

He could not bear to lose his love, but knew they could not stay.

Eager still to prove her love, she asked him what he sought.

He bought a home in deepest wood, and moved his love away.

-

Once again his dreams were calm, his nights were sound till day.

'No men for miles all around, my wife is all my own.'

Solitude she took to well, singing soft and gay.

And never did she seem to care that they were all alone.

-

She was up before the dawn, bid morning to the sun.

Before he rose, his meal was made, her smile warm and bright.

When the strain she should have shown, of cares she e'er had none.

Suspicion grew anew in time and mounted every night.

-

Gates and fences strong were built to let none out or in.

Yet silent she remained in this as paranoia grew.

"Happy are you every day! You must conceal a sin!"

She shook her head and held his hands. "Can you not see I'm true?"

-

Hideous his dreams became, till he could find no rest.

In spite of all his nagging woes, her songs still filled the air.

Every day he was aware she could not love him best.

'So, someone else has slithered in to woo my love so fair!'

-

'Sneaky though she's always been, I'm certain of her tryst.'

Contorting all their memories far back before they wed

'I will make them rue the day! They'll beg, and writhe, and twist!'

A fool he would not be for her, nor any man she bed.

-

Long he plotted his return for crimes too foul for name.

She would confess her sins to him, and turn on her new beau.

Waiting till she drifted off, he thought of all his shame.

His wrath awake, he sprang to act, and lashed her head to toe.

-

Surprised she was, too much to fight, and easy prey for sure.

And though she cried and called for help, no one could hear or knew.

"Tell me now about your heart! Do you still claim it's pure?"

She nodded, sobbing, shaking hard. "Can you not see I'm true!?"

-

Queried, questioned, harried long, again, again she swore.

He dragged her from their lonely home, still needing her to break.

Asking one last time the name, the man who's love she bore

"Can you not see I’m true?" she wept as she sank into the lake.

-

When at last her lies were done, and quiet filled the air.

He thought about the twisted road that drove his heart to this.

Peace within his soul at last, he tasted true despair.

What had he done? This wretched sin that tore away their bliss?

-

Pale her face peered up at him, beneath the ripples' sway.

He fell to knee and screamed forlorn, till voice and soul were through.

Madness long had been in him, e'er driving him astray.

Her voice will ever haunt his nights. 'Can you not see I'm true?'

The Chosen One’s Assistant 

Kimber Grey 

Genre: Epic/High Fantasy, Sword and Sorcery

Publisher: GrayWhisper Graphics Productions (

Date of Publication: 7/12/2023

ISBN: 979-8851108464

ASIN: B0C9SNG88J

Number of pages: 359

Word Count: Aprox. 98,000

Cover Artist: Kimber Grey

Tagline: Hilarious, Dark, and Epic! Everything you’d expect in a book with vampire weasels.

Book Description:

Never meet your heroes.

Outcast by every guild, starving, and left beaten and shamed in an alley, he was beyond desperate when the timeliest opportunity presented itself: The Greatest Hero of Men was in need of an assistant.

He was so eager to leave his old life behind, he didn't hesitate to accept the role of Tiberius, personal assistant to The Chosen One. The magically binding contract was signed, and the previous servant was out the door before the blood on the quill was dry. Tiberius quickly learned he was responsible for all of the hero's needs from mundane to absurdly ridiculous, and the hero himself was the most ridiculous of all. Woefully inexperienced as a quester, thrown into the hero's world of danger and debauchery, he could never have guessed how harrowing and frustrating this new position would be. Then he learned the God of Pestilence was holding a well-justified, 100-year-old grudge. Death, disease, and evil beyond any Tiberius could imagine awaited them on the path ahead, and The Chosen One had been called to stand against it.

How could Tiberius hope to survive his first campaign with the gods' champion against Trion, God of Darkness?

Amazon      Hardcover      Books2Read

Excerpt:

I returned to the room and knocked, entering at the direction of The Chosen One... who stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but his Chosen underwear and the tyrian purple cloak wrapped around his shoulders. His chest was puffed out, and his enormous, muscular limbs flexed this way and that as he posed himself in dramatic battle postures with his famous great sword. Every inch of visible skin was hairless and glistening. He had worked up a sweat admiring himself, and I could still smell the liquor on him.

"Um..." I mumbled, wondering if I should return at a more convenient—and less embarrassing—time. Much to my chagrin, he didn't stop flexing on my account.

"Go ahead and pack," he grunted as he clenched his stomach to make all of his tightly bound abdomen muscles pop. "I'll wait for the pressed clothes." He turned to the side and threw the cloak over his shoulder so he could admire his hips and backside, casting daring glances at his tiny embroidered face on the seat of his underpinnings through the polished brass.

I was certain my own face was scarlet as I skirted past him to gather up everything and return the items to the trunks that seemed the most appropriate. The entire time I worked, he didn't break from his posturing, and I wondered if it was a form of exercise for him, or if it merely exercised his ego. My work was hastened by embarrassment, and when I was done, I silently took up the first Tome of Tiberius. I turned my back, ignoring his grunting and wheezing, and flipped to chapter 3, skimming for the most pertinent pieces of information. I needed to know how to handle The Chosen One's finances.

I quickly learned it was my duty to draw up contracts when The Chosen One agreed to take a deal, enforce the contracts, and collect the fees. It was my duty to arrange for appraisers, auctioneers, and moneychangers to convert any "spoils" of The Chosen One's labors—those that he did not keep for his personal collection—to coin. It was my duty to ensure there was sufficient coin for The Chosen One to live whatever lifestyle he chose and to fund any campaign. Incidentals incurred as a direct result of a campaign—such as bribing furious husbands—came from funds before they were deposited into a bank and Tiberius' percentage was calculated. There was a list of "lifestyle" actions that came from the bank and were not considered incidentals; "donations and women" were on that list. Thus, I assumed him throwing coins into the crowd was not an incidental, either, but came from The Chosen One's own bank holdings.

"You need to plot a course for Vevesk," The Chosen One said between poses. "They have vampire stoats."

"What," I asked, slightly startled by the break in silence. "What is a stoat?"

"I think they said it was like a long rat." He glanced over at me. "Find out. And find out how to kill it."

I stared at him until his self-admiration embarrassed me enough to look away. "You don't know how to kill them?"

"I assume I cut them up enough, they'll die," he quipped. "You need to figure out how it happened so I can stop it. Evil wizard, ancient curse, typical vampirism, that sort of thing."

"I have to learn what caused this outbreak of blood-sucking long rats?" I asked, incredulously. Surely he was jesting. That was his job.

"Chapter 2," he said, stripping off the cloak so he could better admire his shoulders.

I grimaced and turned to the second chapter in the Tome of Tiberius. This detailed how I was to conduct necessary research for a campaign and successfully translate it to The Chosen One, for him to then implement that knowledge to complete his feats of heroism. I sighed deeply. "There is no university here to hold historical works, and many of the larger temples do not have any books in them at all. I will need to visit the Wizards' Guild, the Questers' Guild, and the Scriveners' Guild," I explained.

"Go quickly," he ordered without sympathy. "We leave soon."

I gritted my teeth and rose from my chair, throwing Tiberius' quill and a stack of paper sheets into my shoulder bag. It was all but impossible to do the kind of research this would require in only a handful of hours. So, I ran.

About the Author:

Kimber was born in the arid and alien land known as southern California. She began consuming fiction from an early age, and has ever been eager to emulate the works that dramatically shaped her heart and mind as a child. She began creating short fiction and poetry in grade school, and wrote her first (laughably bad) novel in jr. high. With a grandmother who is a writer and an editor, English teachers who encouraged her budding potential, and a husband with an even greater appreciation of the written word, Kimber has never lacked support in the pursuit of her bliss.

She published her first fantasy novel Quietus in 2009, and her second Seeking Destiny in 2012. The first three books of Faiden Reborn, Kingdoms Lost, Fallen Heroes, and History Forgotten were published in 2017. She has published two anthologies and four novellas, and her work has appeared in anthologies such as Missing Pieces IV, V, and VI; The Hapless Cenloryan-The Troubadour's Inn Book I (2017 Ed.), and On Wings of Steam: Ears and Gears. The Chosen One's Assistant, published in 2023 is her most popular yet, with it's heavy fantasy tropes and sharp wit.

http://www.Patreon.com/KimberGrey 

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Kimber-Grey/author/B00BU84D7W