From the desk of R.W. Shannon: Motivation

From the desk of R.W. Shannon: Motivation: "I wish I could say that I get my messages from God or the universe from a voice or a vision, but I don’t. Instead, I get my messages from so..."

Motivation

I wish I could say that I get my messages from God or the universe from a voice or a vision, but I don’t. Instead, I get my messages from song lyrics. Every morning, I wake up with a song in my head. Not the whole song, but a snippet of it. Yesterday, I awoke to the lyric “take time to realize,” from Colbie Caillat song Realize. Now, I’m not a fan of hers, so I’ve only heard that song at the grocery store. Plus, there was really no other reason for that lyric to be inside my soul unless it’s a lesson that I’m supposed to learn.

What I’ve notice over the years is that if I don’t learn that lesson, it repeats it’s self until I do. Before the ‘realize’ lesson, Motivation by Kelly Rowland was stuck in my head. Not the whole song on the lyric that goes, “baby, I’m gonna be your motivation.” That lyric stayed in my head for a week. What am I to be motivated about? Who is my motivation? I couldn’t get it. I still don’t until the ‘realize’ lyric.

You see, I’ve been stuck for a while. Things have happened that prevented me from taking even one step in the direction that I want to move it. It’s hard to do your life’s work when you can’t even afford to attend to your personal needs. So, I had to be creative. Since I can’t get a job right now to help me (believe me, I tried). I’ll have to do what I was born to do : write. But, it’s hard to be an eBook writer when you can’t afford to keep the internet turned on and have no gas to make a run to the library every week. (I live in the mountains so, I can’t even walk there.)

And that’s when it clicked. This space that I call being stuck is to be my motivation to get to the place I need to be. With the motivation, I need to realize what I have to offer and do that instead of trying to do something that I have no business doing.

This morning, I woke up to “somebody’s sleeping in my bed,” from Dru Hill. Since I’m single, unless there’s a ghost sleeping with me, it’s not literal. My guess is that the bed I’m supposed to be sleeping in is being occupied by someone who is not supposed to be there. Because of that, I’m going to have to be single until they finally get the hint and move. So, if that’s you, please get out of my spot so that I can finally get that song out of my head and lay down. Thank you.

Life Lesson : Humility

Ever feel like you’re on the verge of something great. That one shift of the wind is all that it’ll take to put you on the track to prominence?  This is when the universe tests if you’ve learned the art of humility, the quality of being modest or respectful.

I found that out the hard way a few years ago. I had prided myself on never having a broken bone. One day, I was reflecting on how happy I was to finally be moving from the place that I was living in at the time. I stepped off the bus wrong and, yes, sprained my ankle.

That wasn’t the worst part. On the second bus, as I was on my way to the ER, I ran into the guy that I was dating at the time. Did he get off the bus to help me? No.  I broke up with him the next day and he didn’t seem to understand why.

I’m reminded of this recently. No, I haven’t bragged about anything but I wonder if I’m applying this practice to EVERY area of my life.  Am I being respectful of what I already have? Why am I praying and asking and yelling about thing that the universe has already granted me?

One of my goals was that I had wanted to work from home. Recently, I looked up and realized that I was doing it. The problem: I forgot to mention that I’d need enough money to cover my bills. Slowly, I watched my saving account drain down to zero and now I wonder if maybe I’m doing this wrong…

But, maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m being challenged to see if I will still be humble of this change when things get rough. Am I willing to stay the course and ride out the storm or will I abandon ship and immediately find another job, when that’s not what I asked for?

Silver Moon - Out Now! (excerpt)

My new release, Silver Moon, is now available from Cobblestone Press. The book follows Sabra, a werewolf, as she's required to choose a mate at the upcoming Silver Moon festival.

Here's an excerpt:

Sabra stooped in order to enter her grandfather’s teepee. The room was easier to enter in wolf form, but she didn’t have time to shift because she had to be back at her office right after the meeting. Besides, she wouldn’t want to shift back into her human form. She’d want to go out onto her grandfather’s property and run, but patients were waiting for her. With an exhale, she sat on a pillow and folded her legs beneath her.

The interior of the triangle-shaped structure was large, though it didn’t look like it from the outside. There was plenty of room for a wolf to roam. A low table sat to her left. On it was his special hand-carved pipe along with three stacks books and several stacks of papers. She shook her head at her grandfather’s messiness, but didn’t complain as she was the same way. A large fire pit took up the center of the floor. Other than a few animal hide pillows that littered the ground around the fire, her grandmother’s contribution, there was no other furniture.

With a nervous shudder, Sabra inhaled the scent of sage leaves that burned in a bowl next to the fire. The leather walls trapped the heat inside and made the room warm and cozy. This was his meeting hut. Her grandparents’ main home was miles away from here, but similarly decorated. She already knew what this meeting was about and wasn’t looking forward to it.

Her grandfather, Chief Black Moon, entered in his wolf form, then stalked around the space. His large body took up much of the area. His beautiful white coat glistened in the firelight as he playfully sniffed her cheek before taking a seat next her. As he sat, he shifted back into his human form. Orange flames now danced off of his dark brown skin and reflected in his brown irises.

He wrapped himself in a hand-woven blanket alive with the red, silver, and black colors of their pack, also her grandmother’s contribution. With a wink in her direction, her grandmother, Black River, poured him a cup of tea before shifting into her brown wolf and leaving the teepee. Sabra inhaled his earthy scent and waited for him to take his first sip of tea before the meeting began. She closed her eyes. The warmth of the space and her grandfather was comforting.

The parents of she and her four brothers were killed by hunters who accused them, falsely, of stealing their cattle. Sabra was only six at the time. Since then, they had been raised by their grandparents. While strict, her grandparents also knew when to remove the leashes and allow them to explore both their wolf and human sides. She loved him so. It upset her that, of all the supernatural species, theirs was not offered immortality—but they did live long lives. She didn’t know what she was going to do when it was their time to go. She didn’t want to think of it now.

The Chief was a healthy, youthful-looking seventy years old. His hair hung in silver dreadlocks that flowed over his muscular shoulders and down his back. She watched his weathered face as he drank his tea. He carefully set the mug on the floor and folded his hands in his lap. Before he could speak, she held up her hand.

“I already know what this is about. It’s time for me to mate.”

She’d been dreading this day since she turned twenty eight months ago. All of her friends had already been chosen. Even her four younger brothers were married and starting their families. She was behind as far as the other members of her pack were concerned, but she was busy with her career as a dentist. Black Moon opened his mouth, but before he could utter any words, she interrupted him again as she leapt to her feet and stalked around the space.

The Silver Moon festival coincided with the first full moon of the new year. At the festival, the male werewolves publicly declared their mate in front of the pack. She wasn’t a piece of meat, which was why she’d avoided the festival like a plague. But now, she couldn’t use her studies or career as an excuse to not go anymore. Her pack was counting on her as the lone alpha female to breed more Alphas. She cringed.

“It’s not fair!” she exploded. “It’s a sexist, archaic system, Grandfather. Why do I have to be mated? I’ve graduated college. I have a career. My own home. I don’t have room or time for a mate.”

“Sabra…”

She continued ranting as if she hadn’t heard him. “And what makes matters worse is that I don’t even have the right to choose! The male does all the choosing. What if I don’t like him? What if he’s a complete idiot?”

He chuckled. This enraged her further. She turned to him but softened her posture at the twinkle in his eyes. Of course she was being melodramatic, but she was trying to make her point. Maybe she could put it off for a few more years. No. The elders of her pack, including her grandmother, were already sending her daily emails with offers to set her up with one wolf or another. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

“It’s not funny! I know things worked out with you and Grandmother, but this is a different century. It’s time for this practice to die.”

“I agree.”

His quiet statement made her pause. He patted the pillow next to him and waited patiently for her to sit down. After she did, he took her hand. She found herself beginning to calm down as she picked up her mug with her free hand and held it while she waited for her grandfather to speak. Instead of his messiness, she wished she’d inherited his ability to remain calm in the middle of a storm.

“When it’s my time to pass, you’ll be Alpha of the pack. Your mate needs to be strong, confident and able to assist you with your duties.”

“But that’s a long time off,” she whispered.

“Perhaps, but I like to be prepared for anything.”

“That’s what made you a great warrior.”

Squeezing his hand, Sabra laid her head on his strong shoulder. She would love to find a mate like him, but most wolves were jerks. If it weren’t frowned upon, she’d much rather mate with a human. But as Alpha, she’d be expected to breed as soon as she was mated. She shuddered at the thought—she wasn’t ready for kids. At this point in time, she was barely ready for a mate.

“This,” her grandfather continued as he laid he cheek on top of her head, “is why I will bend the rules. Your mate must be equal to you and not want to be with you simply because of your status.”

“I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” she said as she sat her mug on the table.

“As will I.”

“You’re really going to let me choose?”

“Yes.”

This made her feel a little better about the situation, but not much. At least her grandfather had her back. Now, she’d just have to find someone worthy of him, and her. She exhaled. That was going to be the hard part. However, this was going to rock her pack’s world when they got wind of what her grandfather proposed.

“What about the elders?”

“They understand my wishes and have agreed with me.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Do you have a mate in mind?”

Sitting up, she shook her head. “No. I’ve been too busy to look.”

“There’s plenty of time. You’ll know when you meet him.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. The festival was less than two weeks away. She didn’t even have any prospects to choose from. There was still time to try online dating, but there wasn’t a site for werewolves, and she couldn’t very well put that piece of information in a public profile. Sabra worried that she wouldn’t meet anyone suitable. After her last miserable date two months ago, she’d given up on even looking for a mate. Worry nagged at her. What was she going to do?

Her grandmother appeared with a plate piled with steaming hot corn cakes slathered in butter. Sabra’s mouth watered as she snagged one from the plate and bit into it. She moaned and wished her grandmother would teach her how to cook. Black River refused until Sabra found a mate. After wrapping herself in a throw, her grandmother sat on the other side of her. Sabra’s breath stilled as she sensed a set-up coming.

“When you least expect it,” her grandmother cooed, then kissed Sabra’s forehead, “he’ll show up. The universe just wants to make sure your heart is ready to receive the love it wants to send you.”

“Maybe. But the universe is cutting it pretty close.”

“Perhaps not. Maybe he simply wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he is now.”

Sabra stiffened at her grandmother’s mysterious comment. Aha! At least she was dressed appropriately in her work outfit—red blouse, black slacks and black pumps. She looked around as if her blind date was going to make an appearance at any minute, but relaxed when no one appeared. Doubt pestered her thoughts as she reached for another cake. Was she really that busy with her career to meet someone?

“What if I never find him?”

“You will. I have faith,” Chief Black Moon said.

Her grandfather stood. In one deft move, he stripped off his blanket and shifted back into his wolf. Her grandmother draped an arm around her shoulder. With a final kiss, she, too, stripped off her covering, shifted and followed her husband from the teepee. Admiration swept through her as she watched them. Would she ever find love like that? Climbing to her feet, she filed the thought into the back of her mind. She fished the keys to her SUV out of her coat pocket as she walked toward it. Right now, she’d just settle for a booty call.

Buy it here : http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/silvermoon.htm

Also, my other books; Pink Cashmere, Love Bites and Love Bleeds, are still available from them. And Nocturne, published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, is still available from Amazon, Beautiful Trouble Publishing and All Romance eBooks.

I will have an exciting new series that will be excusively pubished through All Romance eBooks so. Please stary tuned for details...

Excerpt of new release : Nocturne

Here's a sneak peek at my just released book Nocturne from Beautiful Trouble Publishing:

Nella sat in a ball in the center of her empty bedroom, rocking back and forth. Thoughts assaulted her mind like bullets. She was a vampire. She was about to meet her father for the first time. Her mother was in Hell. This was all too much for her to handle, and, honestly, didn’t want to. She wanted to go back to bed and start this day all over again, but that wasn’t possible.

Finally, after what seemed like days, she rose. Annoyed, she wondered what to do. Her mother had said her father was coming to collect her, so where was he? Refusing to cry, she wandered the empty hall of her home. Finding herself in the living room, she sunk into her mother’s favorite armchair.

 “Oh, God,” she cried out.

Again, pain gripped her muscles when she said the words. She’d have to reprogram her mind because she was a vampire now.  The horror of the realization that she couldn’t say the sacred names she’d learned in church made her ill. Jumping up, she rushed into the bathroom and vomited. She’d have to spend the rest of her life drinking blood? Eww! But then, she already had, and it wasn’t all that horrible.

She stumbled to the sink to splash cold water on her face. When she lifted her head, she didn’t see a reflection. Great. Now how was she going to check her hair out? Or make sure her outfit didn’t make her look fat? Lazarus popped into her head. Had he known? Why hadn’t he warned her?

Nella found her way back into her bedroom and to her window, where she flung back the curtains. Sure enough, the Jag was parked across the street.  She didn’t see him; however she did feel him. His presence wrapped around her body like mist. It made her want to strip and be bad. She could now, being she was a vampire and all. After raising the window, she waved at the car’s dark, tinted windows and motioned for him to come over.

Running her hands through her hair, she turned to unlock the front door so he could come in but stopped. Someone was calling her… in her head.  Clearly hearing someone call her name, she turned back toward the window, thinking it was Lazarus. It wasn’t. This call was erotic and caused her nipples to strain against her shirt. She closed her eyes, letting the call wash over her like a breeze as a third call, then a fourth call, entered her mind.  Each one competed to be heard over the others.

Nella grasped the buttons of her shirt between her fingers and slowly unbuttoned each one. Hissing in response to the calls, she let the material fall to the floor. Her fangs ripped through her gums, and she moaned as the calls intensified. She hooked her fingers in the clasp of her pink bra, ready to pull it off. Suddenly, something covered her chest. When she opened her eyes, Lazarus held his jacket against her.

“That’s one way to get kidnapped,” he said.

“If you’re the one doing it, I’d go willingly.”

She didn’t recognize the husky voice that escaped from her mouth but made no attempt to cover up as she hung out of the window to touch one of his soft dreads.  Slowly, she ran her fingers up the shaft to the root and down to the tip. When he quivered, she chuckled, but realized he made no effort to move away.

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“You don’t understand what you’re doing, ma.”

“I think I do.”

She suddenly kissed him hard on his lips while she twirled the silky rope around her fingers. He leaned away before she could deepen the kiss and carefully removed his hair from her grasp. Pouting, she clutched his jacket to her chest as though it was his body as she slowly regained her composure.

“What…”

“They were trying to draw you out with a mating call. That wasn’t fair. Especially for a new turn who’s also a master’s daughter.” He paused, turning to address something, or someone, in the invisible night. “Rest assured that I will handle it.”

She blinked as the calls stopped and the fog began to lift. Master’s daughter? Mating call? He nodded, and she stepped back from the window. That meant that he knew. He nodded again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t my place. It was family business.”

She should’ve been angrier, but she wasn’t. He was right. Turning her back, she picked up her shirt and paused.  She didn’t know how she was going to put it on without lowering the jacket. That simple dilemma shouldn’t have set her off, but it did, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Nella,” he said.

She turned back to the window. “You know my father?”

“Yes.”

“Is he here?”

“Yes.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “All this time…you weren’t interested in me. You were watching me for my father.”

“Yes and no. Your pop asked me to watch you, but that wasn’t why I kissed you. Look, ma. You’d better meet him and talk to him before we have this convo.”

“Okay,” she said, although she didn’t feel much better.

“Put on your shirt. I’ll get your pop and meet you at the front door.”

When he left the window, she laid the jacket on her bed and put on her shirt. His scent hit her nose as she picked up his leather jacket. She inhaled deeply. The metallic sandalwood scent caused her fangs to lengthen. In a daze she walked toward the front door, still holding his jacket to her nose. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him. Tonight. His tall frame filled the glass in the oak door. She flung it open and stared up into his blue eyes, and he flinched as if she had hit him. When he licked his full lips, it took everything within her not to kiss him again. He’d changed from his suit into a red polo shirt and black cargo shorts with black boots.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly nervous, though he’d already seen her almost naked.

“What’s up, ma?”

Her lips began to quiver. His simple question reduced her to rubble.  Suddenly his arms were around her. He pulled her to his chest and stroked her back while she cried. She was such a dork. Here she was, bawling like a baby in front of this big, strong vampire.

“Don’t worry about it. A lot’s happened in a short time. This would’ve reduced anyone to tears.”

“You’ve got to stop reading my mind.”

“Naw. It might come in handy one day.” He chuckled.

She giggled. Leaning away but not leaving his arms, she looked up at him. He wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes with the pad of his thumb.

“You ready to meet your pop?”

“No. I look a mess.”

“You look beautiful. He’s cool. You’ll like him.”

When he dropped his arms, she took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirl of emotions that raged inside of her. She nodded, and Lazarus stepped aside. A tall, thin man wearing an expertly tailored dark suit stood behind him. Nella gasped. Her father’s face was too soft to be that of a vampire. He had her amber eyes, and her high cheekbones. “Dad,” she whispered, afraid to say the word out loud.

When he nodded, she burrowed into his arms, knocking him off the top step and onto the second. She buried her face in his chest and covered it with tears. For so long, she’d dreamt of this moment, and now it was here. She had a dad—a real live father. He kissed her on the top of her head. She had questions, a lot of questions, but for now, she was content to be in his arms.

Buy it here : https://beautifultroublepublishing.com/xcart/Nocturne-EBOOK.html

New Release : Nocturne by R.W. Shannon

My new release : Nocturne will be available from Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

In Nocturne, Nella Jackson has just turned twenty-one, but her birthday is anything but ordinary. She’s just learned that her mother, a former slayer, has made a deal with Hell and on this night, Nella will become a vampire—while her mother is carted off to Hell. What’s more, the father Nella’s never known reenters the picture to take care of her during her mother’s absence—and it turns out he’s a vampire too. Nella’s father assigns his protégé, Lazarus Cole, with the task of serving as Nella’s bodyguard, but the new vampire quickly becomes anything but just an assignment.
Buy it here! https://beautifultroublepublishing.com/xcart/Nocturne-EBOOK.html?keep_https=yes

The Other White Meat

I was once asked why I write interracial erotica and not African American. This person also asked if I felt like I was “selling out”.  She also asked why my male characters “acted black” when they were white.  She also had issues with interracial dating of any form. At the time, I didn’t know how to answer her. Well, I did but I was trying to be nice *smile*.  

As in my personal life, I didn’t start out writing interracial romance. My characters were black. In my book Nocturne (to be published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing), all of the characters were black.  As I was editing the first draft, I realized that my hero didn’t “feel” right. After I changed his race to white, it seemed to flow much better.  As I was writing Nocturne, my first interracial story Pink Cashmere was picked up by Cobblestone Press and the rest was history.

I realized when I stopped forcing my characters to be a certain race when they didn’t want to be, my writing flowed much better. As for the “acting black”, that comes from life experience. I have dated interracially, but the old me had rejected the idea of being with someone outside of my race. Yeah, we could mess around, but I ran away from anything serious.

(Side note: though I’ve heard that expression all my life, I still don’t know what “acting black” means.)

It was while I was journaling one day that I remembered declaring to my mother at thirteen that I was going to marry a white guy one day. She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind and while she didn’t try to talk me out, she wasn’t supportive of the idea either.  While she dogs three of my cousins that have chosen to marry outside their race, I’m not sure how she’ll react when I bring home a white boy.

Before I left Arizona to move back home, I had reconnected with a former high school classmate. Never in a million years did I even think about being with this guy beyond friendship since I’d never talked to him in high school. We’d been talking off and on for the last two years. The irony is my mother met him when we ran into him at the grocery store over Christmas and she thought he was black.

(Side note: More on that in another blog, maybe).

Is this what’s really going on? Is this what the universe is waiting for me to finally let go of? Would I be “selling out”?