Category Archives: Beginnings

Welcome to the World!

I’m a little late with this, but she’s finally here… everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Alice.


Born Saturday, January 21, 2012 ta 8:31 PM
6 pounds, 15 ounces
20 1/4 inches long

It’s been a week, let me tell you.  Waking up in labor Saturday morning was quite the surprise.  Despite the sixteen hours it took for her to get here, everything went very well.

But I can tell you this… giving birth is probably the worst experience for a romance writer.  I say that not because there are regrets, but because when your body is ripped absolutely to shreds, you don’t even want to think about the act that got you in that situation, much less write about it in a way that will make other people want to read it.

We won’t even talk about the stitches…

But the good news is that the swelling has finally gone down – mostly.  Sitting upright is no longer a chore, and the men in the audience will be glad to know that I have gained a full cup size in my bra already.

Now for the gory details:

The epidural didn’t work.  When the anesthesiologist stuck that need into my spine, she hit a nerve.  And the pain… OH MY GOD THE PAIN… on the back side of child birth, I can honestly say that the natural birth process was nowhere near as painful start to finish as the feeling of that needle striking the nerve in my spine.

So yeah, I did this on two doses of painkillers with phenergan chasers.  In retrospect, the phenergan was likely a bad idea, because when it got down to the hard labor, I was so drugged that I didn’t have time to regroup between contractions.  Each one hit hard and fast, and I wasn’t ready because I couldn’t stay conscious.

Once we got down to the pushing…and this is a bit on the funny side… my doctor had been running from room to room all day (four before Alice and two after), and he had just enough time to come in, sit down, and catch before she was here.  Once we got to the critical point, she was here in less than ten minutes.

I lost a lot of blood.  A LOT.  The only abnormality in this whole ordeal.  Scared my mother half to death and the doctor was only slightly concerned… but today Alice and I are both just fine.  We’re home and happy and while we’ve had a few hiccups along the way (figuratively and literally), I think we’re going to be just fine.  She’s sleeping right now which gives me time to update the world.

She’s adorable, and according to her doctor at her first visit Wednesday, she’s perfect.  Well, she does have a knot on her head from where she rested against my pelvic bone for so long, but that will pass in time.

But back to the delivery room… I had a cast of thousands in attendance for the majority of the day.  My husband and step-daughter (who, by the way, stayed with us through it all and was there from the very first second of her sister’s life… I’m so proud of her), my mother, my husband’s mother, brother and two of his sisters, Alexandra Christian (who is quite possibly the only person that kept me sane that day and my personal hero for sticking by me even through my screaming) and even my brother, his wife and his oldest child showed up from Charleston.  When it came time for Alice to make her appearance, it was only my husband, step-daughter, and mother in the room.

Afterward?  That’s a different story.  Miss Alice was passed around like a hot potato.  And I don’t remember any of it because I was completely drugged.  I know at one point Tally brought me a bag of food from McDonald’s (because I hadn’t eaten in 27 hours), but I don’t remember what was in it or that I even ate it…but they say I did.

Miss Alice is now six days old, and she’s doing just fine.  We just finished vacuuming and shampooing the living room carpet, and she slept through the whole thing.  She’s not a screamer; she’s actually a very good baby.  She sleeps a lot, and even when she’s hungry she doesn’t really cry…she sounds more like a squeaky toy.

Despite the long nights and the occasional miscommunication over the last few days, I feel like the luckiest woman alive.  My daughter is absolutely perfect in every way, and I couldn’t ask for more.


RESOLVED: Not to Have Resolutions

Well, here we are.  It’s 2012.  The last year of the world, if you listen to some people (or believe that the end of the Mayan Calendar is an omen – cue spooky music here).  I, on the other hand, believe that it’s going to be just another year.  Yeah, I believe in a lot of fantastic things, but this?  Sorry, nope.  When the world does end, I don’t want a prediction.  I want it to just happen, because I want to continue enjoying it up until the very last second.

So the big question is – with a new year looking us in the face, what are our resolutions?

Let me start with last year:

I had two resolutions last year.  One I completed.  The other? Not so much.  First, I told myself that I was going to finish a story and actually publish it.  AND I DID.  I now have three in e-print and three contracts, and I’m still going strong.  And this one, kids, was not just a simple resolution – this was something major.  It was the accomplishment of a lifelong goal, and I can’t describe how good it feels.

The second – well, I resolved to lose weight.  And I was going pretty well until about June, when I found out about the little one that’s now almost here.  The good news is that so far I’ve only gained 10 pounds above where I was, and at least 6 of it is her.

So that’s where I’ve been all year.  As for this year… well, things are going to be a little different.  I’m not making resolutions this year.  I’m not going to make demands of myself and force unfair restrictions.  What I plan to do is keep track of all the things I accomplish.  I plan to keep writing, keep submitting, and keep publishing.  I plan to finish school.  I plan to learn how to be a parent to a child that isn’t already half-grown.  And most of all, I plan to keep my head up and continue being me.

Those aren’t resolutions.  Those are things that I’d like to see happen this year, but I know me, and I know that by telling myself “YOU HAVE TO DO THIS”, I’ll only shy away from the responsibility of completing it.  I tend to get overwhelmed, and right now I’m almost there.

So that’s where I am.  We’re going to make this a good year, one way or another.

Teasers of the Snippet Kind

So I’ve just started this new project (yeah, yeah…STOP IT, SIOBHAN… I know), and I’m feeling the need to be evil.  It is as-of-yet untitled, unedited, unpolished, and a whole bunch of other uns that I haven’t even found yet.

I’m evil, I know.  Enjoy!

*NOTE* I should warn you that this post contains extremely graphic adult content and language.  If you are sensitive to such things, please stop reading now.


Long, thick fingers split her wide, pressing and probing into sensitive flesh.  She whimpered, clawing at the sheets as her head thrashed from side to side.  The pleasure bordered on pain, pushed her higher, and sent her reeling into a tumble of sensations that coalesced into the single most powerful orgasm of her life.  Her whole body seemed to collapse in on itself, tightening and coiling until she thought she would implode, then broke loose in a series of pleasurable waves that left her shivering and gasping for breath, ruined in the middle of the bed.  Cold hands touched her knees, telling her to open for him.  Still weak and unable to move for herself, she allowed him to position her, and without preamble she felt him thrust forward, filling her to the point of breaking.  Her back arched, and her mouth opened in a silent, breathless scream…

Trinity sat up with a start, gasping and nearly choking on a scream.  Sweat poured from her still-shivering body as she looked around the room.  It was that fucking dream again.  That same, half-finished fantasy with an unknown assailant that always left her reeling.  She had been asleep, but she had felt every single sensation… even now as the reality of it faded, she could still feel that faceless man over her, feel his cock moving inside her.

Due Dates

It’s official.  The doctors have confirmed that Siobhan is going to have a little monster on or near January 26, 2012.  Scary, ain’t it?

That’s two days before my oldest brother’s birthday.  A month after Christmas.  And a month before MysticCon.  Apparently we’re a little further along than we thought… at approximately 7 1/2 weeks now.

How am I?  I’m scared shitless…thanks for asking.

Let me tell you right now… raising a teenager is NOTHING compared to the freakish anticipation of having a newborn.  At least the teenager is somewhat self-sufficient.  I don’t have to feed her and wipe her butt.  I don’t have to barricade her into one spot to keep her from getting hurt.  And I don’t have to worry about her waking me up screaming every two hours for the next however-many-months.

I’m already not sleeping well – whenever I lie flat, my sides cramp.   I’m a stomach sleeper, and that is an insanely hard habit to break.  Half the time I end up sleeping on the couch, propped up on pillows because I can’t get comfortable otherwise.  I’m just under two months… I can’t even begin to imagine what the next seven will be like.

I have a massive bruise on the inside of my right elbow where they attempted to take blood from the wrong arm yesterday.  It hurts.

Plus, I learned something at my appointment.  The 40-week human gestation period is not registered from the point of conception, but from the first day of the last cycle.   I can tell you with almost absolute certainty the date of conception, but that might be a little too much detail for the internet.

Anyway… it would appear that everyone I know is excited about this.  My dad is serious about having the camper to put in my yard.  And I’m pretty sure that the majority of my family will be at my parents’ Christmas party just to watch me waddle around.

The sickness hasn’t started yet, thankfully.  Everyone keeps asking me how I am and if I feel okay.  Other than being completely freaking exhausted, I’m mostly fine.  I do have the occasional cramp in my side, and I get really laggy around lunchtime, but I think I’ll make it.

People in the Unfortunate Real Job are starting to find out, and most of them have been pretty excited.  There are still a few reactions I’m not looking forward to, but for the most part the hardest ones are done.  My family (most of it, anyway) knows, and my friends know.  Beyond that, I’m not overly concerned with who else knows…or even cares.

All I’m concerned with is that I have seven and a half months to convince myself that I can do this without making too much of a fool of myself.

It’ll all work out.  I’m sure of that.

New Week, New Beginning

Right now, my head is full of random thinks.   It’s Monday morning, so my outlook is a little on the gloomy side…but as the day wears on, that will change.  I know I’m really bad at keeping up with my social commitments (just look at Facebook and this blog… and we aren’t EVEN going to talk about Twitter), but I’m going to do better.

On a good note, last week was semi-productive in that I finished another short story and sent it out for a sound lashing.  I have a little more space in my head to spread out another project.  I just have to decide which one it will be.  There are five open projects (as listed in the last post).  The one closest to complete is Loki’s Game, but the one calling my name is the fairy tale.

Writing aside, Rooster and I have a fun announcement to make:

I’m going to have a baby.

The first question I keep having to answer is “how are you?”… Physically, I’m fine.  Mentally, I’m somewhere between excited and scared to death.  I never really thought about having kids of my own – I’m raising a teenager right now…I love Raven more than chocolate, but there are times when she can be a handful – and now I’m having to really consider what my life is going to be like in a year.

Speaking of Raven, I know she isn’t happy with us (after all, what nearly-sixteen-year-old would be happy about losing her Only-Child status?), but I’m hoping she’ll hurry up and see that this isn’t the end of the world.  I still love her absolutely to pieces, and that won’t ever change.  She’s still the oldest, and still part of this family.   I don’t know if it’s that she thinks she’s going to be less important, or if it’s just jealousy getting in the way, but since the big announcement Saturday night, things have been… well, strained.   I have a thousand things going through my head regarding Raven right now, and while none of them are bad, I don’t know how to voice them without making them sound that way.

I don’t want her to pull away from us.  I don’t want her to think she’s less important, or not loved anymore, or any of a thousand other silly things that might go through a teenager’s head when faced with something like this.  I want her to understand that she is still our daughter.

But I also want her to understand that if anything in the family dynamic changes, it will be a direct reaction to her own actions.

Right now, I am persona non grata to her, so anything I say is going to be taken the wrong way, if it’s heard at all.   I understand her need to be upset  about it.  I really do.  But it’s hard for Rooster and me to be happy about it when she treats him like a lump and me like I don’t exist.

Hopefully things will get back to normal soon.


The teenager aside, everyone else seems to be over the moon about it.  My mother is already planning to start buying diapers.  Lexxx apparently went nuts and started shopping too.  Michael is trying to be helpful and give me names (no, Michael… Beauregard is NOT going to be the kid’s name).  And my dad… he has been walking around with the biggest, goofiest grin I’ve ever seen.

He likes babies.  Especially ones that he can spoil rotten.    He’s already talking about buying an RV of some sort to put in my yard so he can come up whenever he wants and play with the little monster.

And I still have 8 months or so left.

All in all, I think this means I need to really buckle down and get some of my outstanding projects out of the way, because soon I’m not going to have any time to do anything.

Wish me luck, guys… I have the feeling I’m going to need it.

A Video, An Idea, and Things That Scare Me

Morning, y’all.

It is still morning, right?


This song kept me up most of last night, rolling around in my head and building a plot.  I’m not sure I can write the story that goes along with it, because it’s one of the saddest things I think I’ve ever created.  It touches on things that really scare me, takes me back to moments in my life better left in the past.

Few things truly scare me, but one of them is losing my father.  I’m sort of numb to any other major loss, but even thinking about the day that I lose him cuts me every time.  Even now, as I write this, I can feel the burn in my nose.  I keep blinking because if I don’t, my vision will be completely blurred.  He’s my own personal superhero – the one that I can always go to when I need a problem fixed, the one that makes me feel better. 

The fear, combined with the knowledge that one day he won’t be here, is absolutely crippling. 

That pain is what I feel when I listen to this song – a deep, empty ache that moves any time I try to pinpoint it.  It’s a raw place on my heart.  It reduces me to a blubbering mess in a matter of seconds.  Less than seconds, actually.

The idea for this story isn’t exactly about losing a father… but about loss (in the final sense), grieving, and recovery.  And with each new image that meshes into the outline in my head, it pulls another hurtful, painful part of my past back.

This time two years ago, my husband was sick.  Very sick.  I mean sick to the point where I was waking up every few hours at night just to make sure he was still breathing.  Then in September of that year, he went into the hospital.  He was there for a week, but it was the scariest week of my life.  I slept a total of 6 hours in eight days, and spent the vast majority of my time on the road between here and the hospital in Rock Hill.  I would spend the days at the hospital while they ran tests, poked and prodded him at regular intervals, and kept him confined to a hospital bed.  Then I would go home when he finally made me leave at night, and after taking care of the teenager (feeding her, helping with homework, making sure she was ready for bed) stare at the walls in the house until I finally passed out from exhaustion, only to wake a few minutes later in the middle of a nightmare.

On Wednesday of that week, my mother came up to stay with me.  I still didn’t sleep, but at least I wasn’t driving up and down the roads alone.

Rooster still doesn’t believe me that he was really that sick, but I know.  I lived through it with that dead weight in my chest.  There are still times, even now, that I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and reach out for him just to make sure he’s still there, but I’m a lot more stable in the belief that he isn’t going anywhere any time soon now.

This story idea takes that hollow ache of fear, and adds to it the weight of terror.  The knowledge that no matter what you do, it’s out of your hands.  Then it compounds that state of misery by adding in the driving need to cling as tightly as possible and not let go.  Ever.

And then there was the day that my Aunt Connie died.  It will be eleven years in July, but it still hurts like hell.  I miss her every single day.  It’s a wound that still hasn’t healed,  because the edges of that wound are coated in regret. 

We were close – her house was my second home. 

I was young when she first got sick, so I got scared and I pulled away from her.  I was old enough to understand what was happening, but too young to realize that I needed to cherish that time.  I just didn’t want to watch her die.

It was another seven years before she passed away.  That was seven years I could have spent with her, telling her how much I loved her.  Seven years I won’t ever get back.

I can’t tell her I love her now, because she isn’t here anymore.  I lost that chance, and I live every day of my life with that knowledge.  I still love her, and I still miss her.  While I don’t cry every day, I do think about her.

So now I’ve added in a good, unhealthy dose of regret to the mix of emotions in this story idea, and I have the perfect storm of pain.  I also have the trapped soul of a flawed man trying to make things right.

It’s going to hurt to write this.  I know that.  I’ve accepted it.  Now I just have to make myself do it.

Good Morning, Neverland!

Hi, y’all!

So I’m just starting out here… haven’t even really had time to pick our curtains or anything. *grin*

I just emailed in the contract for my first story, Marked. It’s only a novella but it’s a start, and hopefully the beginning of something huge for me.

For those of y’all interested, it’s about werewolves. And witches.  And lots of smokin’ hot sex in very public places.  When I’m able to let you know more about it, I’ll pass that information right along.

Until then, my lovelies… play safe, but play dirty.