Unreliable Narrative Storytelling Tool

For my vampire thriller, I decided to write it in first person, and I am using a writing tool I've never considered before--the Unreliable Narrator.

This is a tool often used in suspense and mystery novels to deliberately or unintentionally mislead readers, creating suspense, depth, and complexity.

Examples of Unreliable Narrator are:

Deliberate Liars: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. Both lead characters have their own version of events and hidden agendas.

Mentally Disturbed or Confused: American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. The main character may or may not be a serial killer. His unreliable narration is fueled by mental instability.

Naive or Biased: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. The young boy Huck often misinterprets the actions and motivations of the adults around him, creating dramatic irony for the reader.

In my story, the main character's thoughts are twisted by magic, and he doesn't remember events as they actually happened, creating suspense and surprises for readers.

The Unreliable Narrator can be a powerful storytelling tool.

Enter a world of enchantment and passion.

www.kelleyheckart.com

Return to Ecstasy - Erotica Paranormal Romance - Reincarnation - BDSM - Bondage - Punishment - Lovers Throughout Time - Tina Donahue Monthly News Magazine #Erotica #ParanormalRomance #BDSM #TinaDonahueMonthlyNewsMagazine #Giveaways #EyeCandy

AMAZON

Return to Ecstasy

Book One - Her Master's Pleasure

Erotica Paranormal Romance

Reincarnation

BDSM - Bondage - Punishment

Lovers Throughout Time

A willing slave to possession, punishment, pleasure...

Dreams of a manor where submission and dominance once ruled draws Faith   to   hypnotherapist  Colin  Danes.  Potently  virile,  he’s  instantly  recognizable as her  most  cherished  master  from  a  past life. The only man she’s ever loved. Desire smolders in his eyes, proving he’s never forgotten her.

Their carnal dance continues in the present and leads to their past when she was known as Eve. Through hypnotherapy, Colin brings her back to the Victorian era, a hidden estate where she eagerly submits to whatever he and her other noble masters crave. The exquisite discipline of the strap. Being bid on and mounted each night. Displayed and used for the enjoyment of all.

Most will take her.  One  will try to imprison her. Only he will be her true master and beloved in that life and this.

 

TEASERS

PRAISE FOR RETURN TO ECSTASY

FIVE STARS 

This was a hot read…

This is the story of Faith Montgomery "Eve' and Dr. Colin Danes "Nicholas". Their story goes through time from around the Victorian time period until the present day. This was just a very hot story line that for me I couldn't put down. Loved it!

Sissy - Amazon Review 

FOUR STARS

This book is the first in an interesting unique series. Even though it really takes place present day, Colin sends Faith back to the Victorian age where they find what they both were missing. This unique twist of the BDSM genre is easy to fall into and it is a really quick read.

M. Schaub - Amazon Review 

FOUR STARS 

Hot and intense…

This was an interesting story about past lives and whether people are reincarnated and can find love again. The passion and intensity between Faith and Colin during both periods of time was totally hot. They definitely had chemistry! Great read and totally hot!

Rebecca A. - Amazon Review

 

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Yes, just like the Hallmark Channel…

 As Anne Krist, I teamed up with award-winning author Jan Selbourne for these two novellas dealing with Christmas and war. And oh yes, miracles. So please join us as we “channel” Hallmark (see what I did there?) and celebrate Christmas in July!

Finding a Christmas Miracle

Blurb:
Jan Selbourne lends her award-winning writing talent to A Miracle in the Outback. Nick Saunders is in a hurry to escape a family argument and also to return to his Army base in Wagga Wagga. He doesn’t need another complication. Rachel Garth is a woman with a broken-down car, a small girl, a deadly snake, and a baby on the way. She needs Nick’s help. He doesn’t know it, but he needs hers, too.

In award-winning author Anne Krist’s The Miracle of Coming Home, Army PFC Tom Stabler wins a trip to his parents’ Nebraska farm for Christmas. He needs the time away from the war. Lately, he’s been feeling lost and too alone. Trouble is, being home is almost as bad. Then Susan Swensen arrives, just as sweet and pretty as he remembers. Can Susan help him find himself again, or will it take a miracle?

 Buy links:
Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/Finding-Christmas-Miracle-historical-novellas-ebook/dp/B09MR8PKYT/

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/finding-a-christmas-miracle-jan-selbourne/1140676059

Excerpt:

It's getting cold down under! 

Miracle in the Outback

Noelle’s face turned red as she let out another loud wail.

          Ellie pointed to the crib. “Mum, Noelle’s crying.”

          “I know, I know.” Rachel closed the sliding glass doors and pushed the hair out of her eyes.

          Another louder squeal.

          “Mummy, Noelle.”

          “I can hear her, Ellie,” Rachel snapped, and went to the sink to wash her hands. “The whole bloody street can hear her.” She picked up the little noise machine and felt the wet clothing. Pulling off the soaked nappy, she reached for a clean one to wrap around the squirming baby.

“Scream, feed, and pee,” she muttered as she opened her blouse. Like an alarm clock, every three and half hours, day and night. So different from quiet, placid Ellie and she was so tired. As soon as the little piranha finished feeding, she’d give Ellie colouring pencils and toys and try to snatch an hour’s sleep.

          Rachel rested her head against the back of the sofa and reached over to Ellie. “You are such a good girl, come sit next to me. When we go shopping tomorrow, I’ll buy you a present for helping me with this noisy baby.”

Twice a week, she pushed the pram, with Ellie sitting on the toddler’s seat, to the shopping centre. Always early to avoid the heat and between feeds so Noelle would, hopefully, sleep. Then wash the pile of baby clothes and nappies. She’d take a few more dollars from her stash and buy more disposables.

          Fifteen minutes later, Noelle had fallen asleep against her breast. She gently laid her in the crib, turned on the fan, and lay on the sofa.

          A shrill noise jerked her awake. Blinking, she sat up and rubbed her eyes as the front doorbell shrilled again. No way was she climbing the stairs to see who it is. They can come back later when her mother was home. Probably the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Last week it was the Mormons and she’d told them where to go in very blunt language.

She lay back down and felt herself drifting off when footsteps on the side path made her sit up. Two men in suits were walking towards the sliding glass doors. They looked around the back garden before knocking.

          Now alarmed, Rachel hesitated before opening the door a couple of inches. The two men produced ID badges.

          “Rachel Garth?” The tall man with piercing eyes asked.

          “Yes.”

          “Detective Thomas and”—his hand flicked to the man beside him—“Detective Jones. Sydney City Police. We’d like to talk to you.”

 

Enjoy at the beach this "July Christmas" or poolside

The Miracle of Coming Home

Susan Swensen flew into the small three-bedroom house she shared with Carol Buley and Mildred Hammersmith. “I won!” she shouted. “I won, I won, I won!!”

Carol stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway, brushing her hair and already In her blue flannel pajamas. “Won what?”

Susan dropped an envelope on the scarred coffee table and threw off her wool cape, tossing it onto the used couch dressed up in a winter slipcover. A Christmas tree displayed prominently over the center cushion. Brightly wrapped gifts beneath a midnight-blue sky scattered with stars filled out the rest of the space. This was the second year the women had used it to hide the worn arms and cushions of the sofa, and it saddened Susan somewhat that it would be the last. The three would graduate from nursing school in June and go their separate ways.

She reached to remove the pins that secured her white cap to her blonde curls and then slid the bobby pins onto the edge of the cap before placing it carefully on the table. Then she picked up the envelope and removed the letter she’d read three times already.

“Susan Swensen. This is to inform you that your submission to the Home for Christmas contest sponsored by WCHI Radio Chicago has won one of seven prizes. WCHI has confirmed that PFC Thomas J. Stabler will be transferred from Saigon, South Vietnam to Norfolk, Nebraska (via Omaha, Nebraska) on or about December 16, 1970 until December 27, 1970. The Department of Defense is relaying this information to PFC Stabler’s commanding officers and to him. WCHI is happy to be a part of this Christmas homecoming. Thank you for your heartfelt submission. Merry Christmas! John Marbury, President, WCHI Radio.”

Susan looked up at Carol with a smile that felt like it might split her face. “Tom is going to be able to come home for Christmas.”

Reviews:

“Kudos to both ladies for their exemplary stories! 5-stars”

“Heart wrenching and poignant, this novella set is a must-read.” 5 stars

“Well done, both ladies. 5 stars”

“I enjoyed every turn of the pages. 5 stars”

A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

 After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. 

 Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

Taken by the Maine Coon by @meganslayer #romance #takenseries #shfiter #mainecoon #monsterromance

 

Taken By the Maine Coon (Taken 9) 

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel by Megan Slayer

Sale Price: $4.24

A big cat and a woman without magic could just be the right combination.

Meela Durning swears she doesn’t belong in Eerie. She’s not magical. Never has been, but she’s the child of paranormals. When she’s forced to return to Eerie to sort out the problems from her past, she finds a big, fluffy cat. The animal lover in her has to make sure the feline gets home. He could be missing. Someone has to want him, right?

Aslan Maine has known from the moment he met Meela that she was destined to be his. He’s seen her in his dreams. When she picks him up to return him to his rightful home, he can’t hide his secret any longer. He’s no ordinary cat!

She can’t believe her eyes when the fluffball she rescued shifts into the sexiest man she’s ever seen. When he offers her forever, she’s got to decide if she deserves to be alone or to have a future with the handsome shifter.

If she can survive her past, she can have him. Right?

Buy Today
Changeling
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Now for an excerpt!

Taken by the Maine Coon (Taken 9)
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Megan Slayer

“Christ, I’m tired.” Meela Durning stretched and cracked her back. She shook her head, then closed her laptop. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in particular. There wasn’t anyone there to hear her. Just as well. When she’d had someone there to listen, he hadn’t listened. Hadn’t wanted to be there, either.

She’d grown used to being alone.

Tonight, she didn’t want to be by herself. It wasn’t like she could poof a man into existence. She’d wanted to try that for ages, but with no magical abilities, a spell was out of the question. She supposed she could summon one, but that only worked in her dreams and she swore it had nothing to do with magic. Just her overly active imagination.

She shrugged, then stretched her legs before standing. The man of her dreams might only be in said dreams, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t let her down that way. Didn’t have faults. He wanted to be there. Wanted to please her. Wanted to be with her.

Unlike her ex -- the rotten troll.

She sighed and pushed in her chair. She didn’t even have a fish. She’d wanted a cat, but the building manager didn’t permit animals that had fur. Ridiculous rules.

She checked that the apartment door was locked, then picked up her phone before switching off the lights. She padded into the bedroom. Once she tossed the phone onto the bed, she made her way into the bathroom. She stripped out of her shirt, and bra, then her jeans and panties, returning to the bedroom long enough to don her sleep shirt. She brushed her teeth, but her thoughts turned to the man of her dreams.

She paused, mid-brushing. Man of her dreams. That sounded so silly. The only time he’d ever appeared physically, she’d been asleep.

A vision of him formed in her mind. Tall, muscled, but not huge… thick dark-blond hair with just a bit of shag to it. Enough to remind her of a superhero, with his hair blowing in the breeze. Twinkling green eyes, a wicked smile that hinted at mischief, but he’d been a gentleman. A dusting of hair from his navel to below the belt.

She’d never seen his cock, but she’d felt it. Heat washed over her. She swore she’d felt his hands on her body, the way he’d touched her and kissed every inch of her. He took care of her. Treated her like a treasure. Like she had worth.

She knew damn well she had value. It’d taken her years to figure that out, but now that she knew, she wasn’t about to let anyone tell her otherwise. She refused to be a doormat again.

Doing More with the Same Time

As the mom of a toddler, I’m always looking for ways to get more done in the day. There is just never enough time to complete everything on my to do list, and also spend some time on what I love. And it feels like my writing is always what gets put on the back burner.

In an attempt to try and find more time for the things I want to accomplish, I started tracking how I spent my time. I hoped by tracking how I use my free hours of the day, I might be able to figure out where I could find space that might have been overlooked. Or where I was wasting too much time. If I wanted to find more time in the day, it only made sense to me that I would first have to determine where my time was going.

But when I started tracking my time I noticed a few interesting things. Not in how I use my time (though the amount of time I spend scrolling YouTube and Instagram is a little scary) but how the act of tracking my activities changed my behavior. 

First, I noticed just by tracking my time that I spent less doing things that I viewed as unnecessary (watching tv, scrolling Instagram, messaging with family and friends, etc…). Once I started writing down where I spent my time, and thereby forced myself to be accountable for what I was doing, that was a deterrent in itself. I didn’t want to have to write down that I spent the last half hour scrolling social media with nothing to show for it, so before the half hour was up I would try to find at least one productive thing I could accomplish. Giving me another label to assign that half hour. This gave me a built-in motivation to do more, without having to apply any other techniques or willpower.

The other change I noticed was that simple act of tracking my time forced me to see every minute as valuable.

For simplicity, I classified each half hour under one of four designations. Work, Writing, Promotion, and Personal.

Once I designated a half hour to any of these labels, my analyst brain told me I had to use that whole half hour for activities related to that category. For the purposes of data integrity. The process of tracking time is cumbersome enough, I didn’t need to add tracking fractions to the process.

If I finished a task before the end of the half hour, I would naturally try to find another task to do in that same classification for the remaining time. If I finished the dishes with ten minutes left in my half hour block, I would look around for what else I could do to fill that time. Could I take out the trash, clean the toilet, pack my son’s snacks for daycare, etc... in those ten remaining minutes, thereby forcing myself to use every available minute in that half hour. And by doing this every half hour, by the end of the day, I had found I had packed much more into the same amount of time.

Even if it meant small movements. Even if I only had three minutes, that might be enough to put the books I’d been planning to donate into the trunk of my car. Which gets me one step closer to getting them to their end destination. If I’d finished writing a blog with five minutes to spare, I could use that five minutes to brainstorm new ideas or find pictures to accompany a future blog. This small trick encouraged me to use every available moment, and helping me get even more done in the same amount of time. Inching me closer to my goals.

I’m not sure if this tip would work for everyone. Maybe it’s just a trick of my crazy brain. A side effect of years spent analyzing data, and focusing on creating like comparison. But for any others out there, looking for ways to make more out of the precious time we have, maybe it would work for you too.

If you are struggling to get it all done, to figure how you can get more done in the same limited amount of time, consider tracking what you do with your time each day. This might help you see where you are missing time, or where your processes can be improved. But you might also gain the ability to push yourself to do more in the time you have, to make every minute count, just from the simple act of tracking how you spend your time. Just as I have.

Avoiding Cooking and Despair

We’re deep into summer, where everything feels vibrant and green and alive with possibilities. In central Virginia, the sun is gentle in the morning but by afternoon, anyone lingering outside will become a soupy, sweaty mess. Hair either wilts or poofs, refusing to fight the humidity. Even the strongest deodorant grumbles about having to work under such unforgiving conditions. The air conditioning system in my house complains about the overtime work and refuses to cool my kitchen when the oven is in use. That’s fair, I guess, since there’s only so much a person or a machine can do without needing a break.

In the summer heat, instead of heating up the oven every day and turning my kitchen, AKA my office/workspace, into a sauna, I like to make simple meals and desserts. Sometimes I find recipes online that require very few ingredients and minimal effort. And to keep myself from falling into complete despair during this particularly weird time in history, I have been listening to music that fills me with good energy. I’ve also been watching movies and listening to songs that give me a measure of peace and hope for the future or at least distract me from the present.

Read on for a top five list of my current no-bake meal and dessert favorites as well as list of songs, books, and movies that I’ve been enjoying.

Top five favorite no-bake meals. (Dessert counts as a meal, because… why not?)

Charcuterie boards – I love this kind of thing because I can prepare everything as simple or elaborate as I wish. Sometimes, having little portions presented on a pretty plate in an array of colors makes me absurdly happy. I usually create a meal of crackers, provolone cheese, turkey or salami slices, grapes, orange and apple slices, and pretzels or sunflower seeds. Simple, easy, and not a bunch of dishes to wash afterward.

Guacamole – I smash up two ripe avocadoes in a dish then add some lemon, soul food seasoning, and pepper. Tortilla chips and homemade guacamole with nice a coconut and pineapple drink is perfect to have outside once the sun goes down. I just have to light a bunch of citronella candles so I don’t get eaten alive by mosquitoes.

Pasta salad- Okay, so you have to use the stove to boil the pasta but I have realized I can make a ton of pasta at once, which means I will have enough to several servings for different meals. I get the boxes of pasta salad mix from the grocery store and just make a few boxes at a time. I add in precooked chicken, shrimp, tofu, olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, or whatever else I wish.  

Watermelon slushie - I found the recipe online and never wrote down the exact specifications so basically-  two cups of frozen watermelon, a splash of lemon juice, and about half a spoonful of honey. Mix in the blender until smooth.

Chocolate pudding pie – I’ve been having some version of this since I was a kid. You’ll need two boxes of instant chocolate pudding, milk, 8 ounce tub of whipped cream, graham cracker crust (premade if you don’t want to spend a bunch of time making the crust). Make the pudding and add in a cup of whipped topping to the mix before pouring into the pie crust. Put the rest of the whipped cream on top of the pudding.

Books I’m reading or recently finished

Espresso Yourself by Lara McKenzie (just finished this one and loved the interesting format)

They Hang Me in Tokyo by Allan West (just started reading)

A Fellowship of Bakers & Magic by J. Penner

The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan

Flea Market Magic by Bella Falls

Songs I’ve been listening to on repeat

We Don’t Need Another Hero by Tina Turner

All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

Gloria by Laura Branigan

Breathe by Latroit and Charlz

Alive and Kicking by Simple Minds

Movies and Shows

Practical Magic (I like to have this one on in the background while I’m working or cleaning the house

Fried Green Tomatoes (I would love to run a cute little diner or café, but I suck at cooking)

Twin Peaks (I am a couple shows in and can’t believe I didn’t see this show years ago when it first came out)

X Files (I love weird monster stuff)

School Spirits (suspenseful without annoying jump scares)

 

What I’m working on now:

I’ve been busy writing steamy, paranormal romance, Hawk’s Heart. This will be Jordan and Luke’s story, and the very last book in my Stranger Creatures series. I’ve also been working on a couple of romantasy novellas featuring women in their forties navigating unexpected new paths in life, as well as writing more poetry and learning how to write flash fiction.

 

If you’d like to follow me on social media for my latest book information and excerpts, poems, contest info, book recommendations, and other fun stuff, you can find me at:

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

Wordpress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/cllambauthor.bsky.social

Here's your holiday weekend pool read

 

Since I can’t serve Margaritas or Sangria on this holiday weekend, here’s my summer sizzler that features a Hispanic love interest, “Cuban Fire.” This is book number 4 in my series called “Key West Heat,” but the stories aren’t connected by characters or plot. It’s a lightweight romantic comedy, similar in tone to what you’d see in a rom-com but with adult situations. You know the premise—a guy meets a girl in an exotic place, he isn’t sure if she’s really interested in him at first but finds out she is, and hot animalistic mating ensues.

 

“Take one newspaper writer who goes to Key West for an assignment, add a cute Cuban vixen looking for a good time, stir carefully with a Key Lime twist and let the beach party begin. Brad didn’t know what to expect when Chiquita set her sights on him at the bar, but he certainly didn’t think she’d change his cynical outlook on life. The free-spirited pixie with a natural flair for hustling opens his eyes to a different world, but can he adapt to her laidback, carefree lifestyle? Is there a future beyond the sunset?”

 Part of the fun in writing this story was coming up with the side hustles that the female lead, Chiquita, employs to enhance her lifestyle in Key West. Her innocent scams and schemes are reminiscent of those how-to books that tell you how to quit your day job and live in Key West, or travel through Europe on five bucks a day. The tourist she picks up at the bar, Brad, is in awe of the various ways she scores free drinks, meals, cab rides and spa sessions. Here’s an excerpt where they meet at an in-pool bar:

   

      

Brad took another sip, then nearly choked when he felt a splash of water from behind. He turned around in time to see a young woman climb onto the stool next to his. Brad automatically glanced over her frame, clad in a string bikini with a floral print. She looked to be about five-two and slender, with skin the color of café au lait and sun-bleached blonde hair with light brown streaks, cut into a shag style that covered her ears. Her figure was so petite that handle-with-care was the first thing that came to mind, while a posture that said don't-mess-with-me was the second.

 

She looked at him and offered a shy smile. “Sorry,” she said in a thick Spanish accent. “Didn’t mean to get you wet.”

 

Brad recovered from his initial shock and smiled. “No problem. I was getting too hot anyway. It actually felt good.”

 

The young woman giggled, making a pleasant sound, not nasal or forced. “You mind if I sit here?”

 

“Not at all.” He hesitated for a moment to summon his courage. “Would you care for a drink?”

 

She released a deep breath. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Whatever you’re havin’.”

 

Brad signaled for the bartender and ordered her drink plus a refill for himself. When they arrived, she took a long sip.

 

“Gracias,” she said. “You not from ‘round here, are you?”

 

“How can you tell?”

 

She gestured at his torso. “Not enough tan.”

 

He laughed. “Looks like you got me. I’m from up north.”

 

Her eyebrows arched. “Atlanta?”

 

“Further north than that. I’m from Ohio.”

 

Her face scrunched in confusion. “Not sure where that is.”

 

Brad eyed her for a moment. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either.”

 

She shook her head. “Havana. Came here few years ago. What you do in this Ohio place?”

 

“Whatever it takes to survive. What do you do here?”

 

“Waitress at the Palm Garden. You ever been there?”

 

“No. Is it any good?”

 

She shrugged. “Not bad. Tourists sure like it, ‘specially the ones who come from the cruise ships. What’s your name?”

 

“Brad. What’s yours?”

 

“Chiquita, like the banana.”

 

He looked her over again. I’d like to see what she could do with a banana. “Pretty name. Are you staying here?”

 

She shook her head again. “I live in Olde Towne. This is my day off.”

 

“I thought the pool was just for hotel guests.”

 

She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Supposed to be, but the bartender’s a friend. He looks the other way when I sneak in. You not gonna bust me, are you?”

 

Brad laughed. “What fun would that be?”

 

She laughed with him. “I can think of things that would be whole lot more fun.”

 

 

You can find “Cuban Fire” at the links below. Happy reading!

"Cuban Fire"--Amazon Kindle; Smashwords 

 

 

Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. His website is AllAuthor.com