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Tuesday, October 15, 2024

The word falls out of him between breaths

“Do you find me attractive?”

Just like that, I ask him. And why not? We’ve been flirting a little lately, I think. Unless I’ve read him completely wrong.

It’s likely. It’s been a long time since I’ve flirted with anyone, and I’ve never found reading people as easy as others make it out to be. My friends have a knack for sensing the difference between a signal for affection and someone just being friendly. But not me.

The first boy who broke my heart was named Vaughan. His family was from the Aegis colony. He had those beautiful green eyes and high cheekbones his people are famous for. I was thirteen and too tragic. He was kind to me once when we both had detention, and I was too inexperienced to know how easily I could embarrass myself in the months that followed.

Finally, we both attended a Christmas party at the home of a mutual friend. I kissed him under the mistletoe. He hugged me with one hand on my ass. I skipped away, thinking he might ask me out. Later, I overheard him and a big-breasted girl from another school making fun of me when they thought I was out of the room.

The music stops. The whirring fades as twelve spinning wheels slow to a halt. At first, I think I’ve fucked up, and my face and neck are warm—warmer than they would normally be after a spin class. When he leans over the handles instead of looking at me, I think maybe he just didn’t hear me. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. I step off my bike, but before I can leave, his hand is on my arm.

“Wait.”

The word falls out of him between breaths. He is drenched in sweat, and the heat emanating from him ripples the air around the surface of his skin. He squeezes my wrist, forehead resting on his other hand, shoulders rising and falling.

The studio walls glow with a dewy light. It’s morning, almost my last. By this time tomorrow, the AMS Celestial Dream will reach Planet Paradiso, the end of my journey.

Or rather, the beginning. But Alexei will carry on and circle back home, wherever his home is. The universe is a big place. We may never see each other again. This is my last chance.

And so, even if I wait for the answer to be no, I suppose I’m glad to have asked. I could have opened by asking, Will you go to bed with me? But we barely know each other beyond light conversation and laughter, three times a week or less. A spin class here, a yoga class there—quips and commiserations, captured in forty-five-minute aerobic snapshots, and passing glances in amenities around the ship.

After one final, deep breath, Alexei looks at me. His blue eyes offer the smile that connects us before it travels to his lips. His hand moves to my hand. He gives me another squeeze.

Read the rest…

The Only Question That Matters by JL Peridot

“Do I call this love already? I am almost disgusted with myself. How pathetic to fall so easily. Perhaps I was the cause of my past heartbreaks. Not stupid schoolboys or an arrogant rich man, but a gullible girl from a flower farm who opens her heart too readily and expects too much.”

Sofia is en route to Planet Paradiso, ready to start a new life after her divorce. But when she accepts Alexei’s dinner invitation on her final evening, she realises she’s in for more than she bargained for.

As the AMS Celestial Dream arrives at its destination, and their one-night stand draws to a close, Sofia must choose between a newfound possibility with Alexei and the freedom she so desperately craves.

This sci-fi romance novella is a revised re-release, originally published in 2018.

💖 Get this book 💖


JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work.

Monday, October 14, 2024

Learning the Basics and a Fun Medical Romance!

 Recently, I overhead two people debating whether children in middle school should have assigned homework. One argued that it built good habits and prepared them for high school and post-secondary education. The other argued that young people needed time to pursue interests and to play sports and participate in other extracurricular activities. Having raised 3 boys, I sit firmly in the “give-them-time-to-do-other-things” camp. Starting homework in high school is soon enough. I believe every child should read or be read to every day, but beyond that, there are so many things they could spend time learning that aren’t covered in a school curriculum. Like how to: 

sew a button on or hem

iron

fold laundry

choose fruit/vegetables/cuts of meat and read food labels

prepare a simple meal

use a knife

set a table

make dinner conversation

create a budget

do simple household tasks like changing a light bulb or replacing the furnace filter

write a cheque, transfer funds, manage a credit card

make music

lose gracefully at a board game

play bridge or euchre

use a library card


This is just to name a few. I realize that they could do homework and accomplish these things, but the days are short and everyone is tired by evening. Getting outside or learning a skill together, in my opinion, is a better use of time and will foster strong relationships. And that is the key for success in the future. Do you agree? Leave a comment.

 

If you’re looking for a great book to fill your evening, Perfectly Reasonable, the second book in the Perfectly Series, is a fun stand-alone medical humorous romance. 

 

Perfectly Reasonable by Linda O’Connor



 

Love what you do and do what you love.  Sounds perfectly reasonable, but chances are, you’ll find your passion in the last place you look . . .

 

Margo MacMillan finished medical school, but in the process, her self-confidence and self-esteem took a beating. So for the sake of self-preservation, she’s stepped away from medicine to re-group. In the meantime, painting soothes her soul and pays the bills. 

 

Trace Bennett set his sights on a medical degree and has to prepare the perfect medical school application. His big plan is to paint his condo for a little feng shui divine luck. When Margo shows up to paint, he realizes he’s found exactly what he’s looking for. He just has to convince Margo to share more than the art of medicine. 

 

She’s got it. He wants it. It’s Perfectly Reasonable.  

 

Buy Link (included in Kindle Unlimited):

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Perfectly-Reasonable-Book-2-ebook/dp/B09D6WFHNM

 

  

Enjoy an excerpt:

“So, you’re a doctor,” Trace said slowly.

Jeez. Back to that. “Yup.”

“How come a doctor is painting my living room?”

“Because you’re paying twice the usual fee,” Margo said with a cheeky grin.

“Shouldn’t you be…doctoring?”

Her smile slipped. He sounded like her mother. All that time, all that money, blah, blah, blah. “I could be, but at the moment, I’m painting.” She pointed to the paint sample hanging on the wall. “That’s the color I chose.”

He looked over. “I like it. Hopefully it will work.”

“I think it’ll work. Blue’s a neutral color. Looks good in this lighting and it’ll be a great backdrop with your metal furniture.”

“Hm-mm. I’m hoping it’ll be lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Feng shui. Water and metal elements, á la blue paint and metal furniture, in the west and southwest rooms are supposed to bring divine luck this year. Good bye beige and wooden antiques.”

She smiled at him. He wants to get lucky? Look at those abs. Really, any color would do. “Sounds like you’ve researched this.”

He took a sip of coffee and set the cup down. “I have. I’m applying to medicine. Again. I’m giving it one last chance, and this time I’m doing it properly.”

“Medicine.”

“Yes.”

“And you think feng shui will help?” She reached for a small tool in the outer pocket of the tote bag and used it to pry open the lid from the first can of paint.

“Couldn’t hurt. And I want to cover all the bases. If I can get a little divine luck on my side, I’m all for it.”

She smiled at him as she stirred the paint. Hopefully he had more than feng shui up his sleeve. “I’ll get this done and get you started. I’m happy to help.” Especially if it meant her bills would get paid.

“Are you? You could be handy.”

“Oh I’m definitely handy,” she said with a smile.



Award-winning author Linda O’Connor started writing romantic comedies when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at a local home décor store. Her books have enjoyed bestseller status. When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic. She shares her medical knowledge in fast-paced, well-written, sexy romances – with an unexpected twist. Her favourite prescription to write? Laugh every day. Love every minute.

 

Website:  https://www.lindaoconnor.net

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

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98

Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA


Sunday, October 13, 2024

A double-standard

I don’t usually post political stuff, but I’ve had it. The U.S. election rhetoric is heating up, and some of it is deeply offensive to women.

Vance is vilifying women for not having children with his childish cat lady comments. What about men who decide to remain single and not have kids? Why is this a double standard? First of all, it’s a personal choice, and sometimes a physical issue, as to why a woman might not have children. Don’t tread on us, Vance! Mind your own damn business.


The other offensive comment I’ve seen from MAGAs is that Kamala had to give blow jobs to get where she is today. This statement claims that women are only successful if they screw their way to the top. I am so offended by this comment. I don’t know if she did this, and I don’t care. So what if she slept with men? Women shouldn’t be vilified for having a healthy sex life.

I have never been so offended in my life by political statements.

And then there is the abortion issue, which is more about women’s healthcare. This is serious.

Women need to show their displeasure at the voting booth this November. Vote for the candidate who will fight for women’s rights.

This is also why I will never read a book with a weak, helpless female lead character. Fearless Females rule!


Website: https://www.kelleyheckart.com/

Amazon Author PageL https://www.amazon.com/author/kelleyheckart


Saturday, October 12, 2024

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum - Don't let the ba$t*rds grind you down #Handmaid'sTale #Vote #Rights

With November 5 coming up quickly, I wanted to remind everyone to vote this election. It's not only doing your civic duty, it's essential if you want to retain your rights, which made me think of Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. That's where the title of this post came from.

These last years have seen an unprecedented assault against women and their rights. Some candidates for what is presumably thought of as mainstream seats in Congress are actually suggesting that the 19th amendment to the Constitution be repealed.

THE 19TH AMENDMENT GAVE WOMEN

THE RIGHT TO VOTE.

Does any woman seriously want that right taken away so that one side of the political spectrum can always win elections? I don't.

I've never been the type that needed a 'daddy' to tell me what to think, do, how to act, or what my life's purpose is. No one can know those things for me better than I do.

Even if these 'wanna-be political candidates' think disenfranchising women is the way to go and a women doesn't see a problem with that (because eggs cost so much, you know), just wait for what comes next. Lose one freedom or privilege and the rest will fall like dominoes.

There won't be contraception any longer. Working outside the home won't be possible any longer... unless a man permits it. Want to go to college? Not a chance. That's for men. You know, the beings with brains. If a husband or partner rapes or beats a woman to keep her in line, that's okay. Welcome to the 1700s.

WE ARE NOT GOING BACK.

I find it hard to believe that we're going through the same misogynistic poison in 2024 as we have throughout history, but here we are. There's only one way to change that.

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum 

Don't let the ba$t*rds grind you down

Vote like your freedom depends on it...

because it does.


Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue







Friday, October 11, 2024

For the Asheville I used to know


The past few weeks have been horrible. First, Hurricane Helene, tore through Florida and up into western North Carolina, eastern Tennessee and Virginia, leaving death and destruction in her wake. Then Hurricane Milton ripped Florida a new one, from which clean up is just now beginning.

Even having lived in Virginia Beach for many years, my experience with hurricanes was small. But my senior year of high school, in Florida, I experienced a somewhat mile Hurricane Camille. Somewhat mild in Florida. When she raced north, through Alabama, Tennessee, North Carolina and up the Shenandoah Valley into Virginia, she somehow gained strength in destruction. She wiped out the town of Vesuvius in Virginia and caused a 100-year flood on the James River up the road from what would one day become my hometown. Now, Helene has done the same to the area of North Carolina that I visited so often as a child. Dad was from an area outside Asheville called Sandy Mush (pictured here). I have no idea why. Now the population is 344 but it was much less back in the day. It was a mystical place filled with hard-working people who dealt with hardship and praised God for their blessings. The terrain was so mountainous that my uncle’s barn and cows were on one steep slope, while across the road the land dropped off so much the roof on his house is all you could see from the road. Having grown up in the city, Sandy Mush was like going to a different planet. But it was fun. In that regard, I could identify with Jack/Kyle in my book.

This excerpt is from what was originally titled It’s All Relative. This book will be republished very soon and I don’t even have a working title or cover yet. It’s the closest thing I’ve written that pays homage to Asheville and Wonderful Western North Carolina and too my family still there—and thankfully safe (though not sound, yet) after Helene.

Blurb:
When Jack and Sally meet one weekend in Nags Head, neither are prepared for the instantaneous attraction they feel. It makes both of them nervous, and while it was wonderful, there’s relief felt when the weekend ends. Months later, in a city on the opposite side of the state, Geneva Jameson is shocked to meet Kyle McCaislin, the cousin she’d never met—and the man she’d known as Jack. Sparks fly between the two as they try to deal with their quandary, not knowing the many surprises before them. Will their hearts discover what their minds already know? That in passion as in life, things aren’t always what they seem.

 Buy link:
Coming soon

 Excerpt:
Just when she thought they were finished, the minister gestured for her to come forward. What was this? She didn’t have a part in the service. She had turned slightly to see if someone behind her was getting up, when Kyle stood and walked to the front. He moved behind the podium, rested his hands on each side and looked out into the church.

“Good morning. I know it’s late and hot and I won’t keep you. My name is Kyle McCaislin and my father was known to some of you here.” Geneva heard a murmur of voices in acknowledgement. “I only wanted to share with you some few remembrances of my namesake, my grandfather. I can’t say I spent much time with him, but he ensured that the time we had together was meaningful and exciting. Especially to a young boy.

“My sister and I grew up in New York City, in a brick building in a block of other brick buildings and concrete streets. It was a nice section of Manhattan and we had a good childhood, but starting from when I was quite little my dad brought me home, here to Asheville, to spend a month each summer with his parents, and I saw a world totally different from where I lived.” Kyle glanced at the front row of people. “Unfortunately, these visits always took place during the time you and your families were off on vacations, so we never got the chance to get to know each other. Based on the fact that we never had contact, I’d say that was all planned, for some reason.” He looked at Geneva, and then out into the church again. “Feelings between my dad and Grandpa weren’t good when Dad left home, but they made things up over the years, and by the time of our last visit, when I was eighteen, the love between them was evident.”

Kyle cleared his throat and looked down at the podium for a moment before continuing. “When I was small, I only remember a big man. Gruff to everyone but me, with whom he was gentle as a lamb. I sat on his stomach as he lay on the sofa and read me stories. He was a horse on the living room floor when I wanted to be a cowboy. He was an endless source of stories about the fairies and magic of Scotland, and a boon companion when grandma baked scones and we sat on the back steps eating them slathered with butter, watching the clouds.

“When I was older, Grandpa took me on hikes around the estate, pointing out trees, flowers, bushes, animals. He was a genius when it came to planting and gardening, and he knew every bird in the forest.” Kyle smiled, as he noted heads nodding in agreement. “Visits to the Biltmore gardens were frequent, and we went on other trips, too. He showed me where O. Henry had once lived, out in Weaverville, landmarks for Thomas Wolfe and the Carl Sandburg home. He once slid off Slippery Rock with me, and we admired the view from Blowing Rock. He showed me Grandfather Mountain where the highland games are played, and Cade’s Cove in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, where we watched bears lumber across our path. These things all inspired a boy who spent most of his year surrounded by mountains of skyscrapers rather than mountains covered with trees and mountain laurel, and Grandpa knew it. He wanted me to know his world and be able to imagine it when I was home, so far from him. And I did.

“He had a good philosophy for life too, and as a teenager, when I began to feel the urge to rebel in some way, he told me stories replete with life lessons. His eyes would twinkle when he got to the ‘punch line’ and he saw that I got it. Usually his parables were laced with the Golden Rule, the importance of being true to one’s self, the joy that comes from being generous, in business, life and love, the vital connection between family—I think he emphasized that because of the trouble between him and Dad—and that nothing—nothing—is as important as love itself.” Kyle glanced at Geneva.

“These were all tenets he embraced, as was obvious to anyone who ever knew him. I’ve tried hard to keep these lessons in mind as I’ve grown and gone into business for myself, and although I can’t say I have always paid attention to them, they’ve been in my heart as a compass for me to find my way back to the right path. I hope I’ve grown into a man he would be proud of. As proud as I was that he was my grandpa.”

Geneva felt a lump in her throat. What her uncle and the others had said about granddad had been touching, but hearing these things about her grandfather from someone she didn’t realize even knew him, was very moving. Kyle’s recollections of granddad were somewhat different from her own, but basically it was obvious that they had loved the same man. She could hear sniffling coming from several points behind her and knew that Kyle was touching a chord with more people than just her. She wondered why her grandfather had kept all of this such a secret. And here Kyle had kept in touch with him until he was eighteen. She wondered why he had stopped.

“Finally, although my visits stopped when I started college, Grandpa and I always kept in touch. We wrote constantly and exchanged gifts at Christmas.”

Geneva stared at Kyle in shock. It was like a movie she had seen on TV once where a man died and it came out that he had two families in different parts of the country. Her granddad had led a whole secret life right up until he died, evidently. She knew it was selfish, but she had always thought she was her grandfather’s favorite and now a small part of her felt betrayed. She still loved him fiercely, and missed him horribly, but here was a side of him that she hadn’t even known. Right along with a cousin she hadn’t known.

“While I was in the service and again after I started in business, I was able to travel. I got to Scotland several times and have been able to visit the town where he and grandma grew up. As he would say, it’s a bonny place, and very much like the area around here, which I’m sure is one reason he loved Asheville so much. I’m sorry he’s gone from our lives, but I’m glad he and grandma are together again, and I’m glad to be able to get to know, finally, the family I’ve missed knowing these many years. Thank you.”

When Kyle returned to his seat Geneva noticed moisture in the corners of his eyes. She leaned her arm against him to give some small comfort. The final hymn was announced and she nudged him with her elbow. He leaned down and under the brim of her hat. “That was very nice,” she whispered, suddenly aware with every nerve in her that his mouth was enticingly close. But he simply nodded and stood up again.

 Reviews:

“IT'S ALL RELATIVE takes a kissing-cousins story and turns it into a hot,
emotional and surprising romance. She uses southern-vs-Yankee prejudices to
show cultural differences between the hero and heroine without resorting to
clichés, no easy task IMO. I don't want to give away the plot--there are
several surprising twists--but will say that the sexual attraction between
these two is undeniable and addictive, which makes for some steamy love
scenes. I couldn't put down my e-reader and stayed up late to finish because
I had to know how these two figured out they were in love and what they'd do
about it.”

 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

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

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

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

 

Thursday, October 10, 2024

Taken by the Necromancer by @meganslayer #outnow #newrelease #necromancer #vampire @changelingpress

 



Taken by the Necromancer (Taken 7) A Dark Fantasy Women's Fiction Novel by Megan Slayer  $4.99 /Sale Price: $4.24

A newly turned vampire and a necromancer shouldn’t work. But what if they do?

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Briley Reed never expected to be a vampire or thought she’d find herself heading to Eerie, but a brutal attack changes everything. When a mystery man sends her to Eerie to find Atticus, she realizes just how much her life has changed.

But could it be for the better?

Atticus Maguire wants to be left alone. He’s had his heart broken and he’s done with love. Then Briley shows up in his life and it’s turned upside down. He wasn’t planning to fall in love, but the magic never lies.

Right?

 

EXCERPT:

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

His skin tingled. A vision formed in his mind. A woman approaching and his brother warning her to find him. He frowned. Who was this woman, and why would his brother appear in his vision? He tipped his head. Who was she? He wasn’t sure. The vision wasn’t clear enough.

He glanced over his shoulder. The woman wasn’t even in Eerie, but he felt her. Another vision formed in his mind. This time, the woman stood in his living room and wore nothing.

A nude woman in his home.

What was he getting himself involved in?

He’d figure it out when she arrived. If he knew one thing more than anything else, fighting the future wasn’t smart. The future would happen no matter what he did.

Still, he wished he knew more about this person trying to locate him. She might end up hating him. The nudity might be because she was getting revenge… on him? Someone else?

The more he thought about this woman, the more the vision of her nude in his living room came into focus. Slender, curly brown hair down to her shoulders, wide eyes, blushing from her hairline to her chest, breasts just right for his hands and curves to make his mouth water. He longed to touch her. He hadn’t even met her yet, and she’d stirred his magic.

He wondered what her kiss would taste like.

He shook his head. Her kiss! She might not even want to kiss him.

The water sloshed against the bank and tore his attention from the woman. His woodland oasis would be invaded. Did he mind?

Not really.

He headed back to the house as a shiver ran the length of his spine. The woman hadn’t reached Eerie, but she was on the outskirts. She also needed his help.

He grabbed his keys, then tucked his phone into his front pocket. Once he locked up the cabin, he rushed out to his motorcycle. He sped out of the shed toward the gravel path, then the road. Living on the far side of the lake meant he’d waste precious minutes rounding the body of water to get to her, but his magic swore she was closer than he’d thought.

Atticus sped down the back road to the edge of town. Her car wasn’t broken down, but she had a follower. He couldn’t see the person in the truck tailing her. Didn’t matter. He’d use a cloaking spell to hide her from the other driver. He spotted her little car, and his heart skipped a beat. He’d never met her, but he had a connection to her.

He pulled out onto the main road between her and the truck, blocking the following vehicle from getting to her. At the same time, he spoke the words to the spell and enveloped her in the invisible cloak. She’d never know he was behind her, but she would know the truck was gone.

Now he could deal with the truck.  

 


Tuesday, October 8, 2024

Finding That Writing Mojo Dojo

I have always felt like physical places have energy. Sometimes its inherent to the place itself, and sometimes it can be created by what happens there. When buying all my houses, the second I stepped into the building I could just feel it was the place for me. Realtors would tell you they created that feeling (and I don’t think that’s completely untrue) but I think that the buildings themselves have a certain energy that I picked up on. Energy that welcomed me and soothed me and made me feel like this place could be my home.

I’ve also always believed that places have writing energy as well. Not that I can’t write anywhere, if properly motivated. I’ve written in some weird places throughout the years (during hockey games, in closets, on the couch while my whole family watched avatar), but when I settled down to writing in a place with that good writing mojo it always feels like the words flows better. It’s easier for me to get in that right headspace. Like everything just clicks a little faster, a little easier, a little deeper.

As a result, I tend to frequent places with good writing energy far more often. Especially when getting into that writing headspace can be even harder, due to stress, or real-life complications, or a strict deadline.

Here are a few of the places I like to write. Either because they have inherent great writing energy or because I’ve created it, by writing in these places enough that I can pick back up on that mindset the second I walk in the door.

While it may sound boring, my desk is one of my favorite places to write. Not because there is anything special about my desk. In fact, it’s pretty bland. Every year I think about fixing it up, getting some new stuff to make it more exciting and conducive to writing, but I always put it off. Regardless of how blah my desk might be, it’s a great place to get work done. Without any windows, and far away from the rest of the house, there are limited distractions to disrupt my flow. On a day when I don’t have the time to go anywhere else, I’ll put on some sounds (I need sounds instead of music, because lyrics can distract me when I’m writing, especially if it’s a good song), and shut off the world. 

After my desk, the most common place for me to write is my couch. I’m not sure it’s the best. It probably horrible for my wrist or back, but it’s the most well used spot in my house for everything. For eating, for reading, for writing/working, probably even for sleeping (I’m a big napper, which most often happens on the couch). But while it might not be the best for my body to write, the positive energy on my couch has served me well. Not to mention, there is something really nice about how writing on the couch connects my writing to my everyday life. While it can be freeing to escape from reality into my writing, sometimes it’s also nice to see my writing world as not a separate entity, but as a part of my life. An extension of the real me.

Barnes and Noble is one of my favorite places to write outside the house. I think being surrounded by all those books is great motivation. I look at all the books around me, at all the people who love those books, and it fills me with motivation to bring my characters into the world to be loved by readers just like the ones around me. Not to mention the snacks and coffee really help lubricate the writing process.

After Barnes and Noble, Panera is my next favorite place to write. The food is great, and the atmosphere—at least at my Panera—is focused. Maybe it’s because I live close to a large college, but most days I write at Panera at least half the restaurant is filled with other people on their laptops, writing presentations, trading stocks, editing videos. It can be quite a communal feeling, to see so many other people working to their goals, just like I am. And they make a mean grill cheese. What could be better than that?

I’ve always found walking very helpful for my writing process. It gives me time to think, to let my mind wonder and the ideas to flow. If I am going through a period of increased productivity it is almost always a time when I am consistently walking. And when I walk it isn’t uncommon for me to find a nice grassy spot to sit down and write. There is a perfect spot I used to tuck away into near my evil day job, just beyond the building I can’t see my office, or any other part of the realities of home, and I can just escape into my writing, with nothing to distract me from the world and characters I’m creating. I wrote most of my Frostbite Falls series in that spot, and to this day it is one of my favorite places to write. The wind, the trees, the birds, the sunshine, all only add to my enjoyment and my writing mojo.

These are the places I like to write the most. That have offer me just that little extra energy to make my words come to life. Where do you like to get your work done? What places have the best energy to you? Or help you be even more productive? Leave them in the comments below. Maybe we have some of the same places in mind.