Not Just a Summer Fling...

 

After writing five books, my muse and I realized that Ryan Griffith, Ethan Mahoney's partner and sidekick, was getting way too little attention. Ryan was the goofy, young guy. He was a professional bodyguard, but also a man who had not yet settled down. He loved playing pranks on his fellow partners, and when it came to partying, he was the last one standing. So, we decided to write a story with him in the spotlight. The result was a novel that starts as an easy summer fling.

Two young people just want to have fun in the sun and go about their business when their vacation ends. But then Ryan is accused of murdering the recently elected mayor of Lima, and all hell breaks loose. The evidence seems overwhelming, and Ryan is thrown in jail. He quickly realizes that he’s alone, doesn’t speak the language, and is facing criminals far more sinister than he had ever imagined.

My muse was very happy with the brainstorming process—the sudden change from sunbathing to showering with thugs and from swimming in the sea to fighting for his life. (She’s not shy about putting on a dramatic show! LOL!) We had the chance to showcase Ryan’s character and demonstrate that the seemingly carefree man can stand up for himself.

Due to its length, the story was published in two volumes.

 

Here’s an excerpt for you to enjoy…

 

Excerpt (the summer fling begins…)

Sara’s hand traveled across his shoulder beyond his collarbone. Smiling tentatively, she bit her lower lip. “Hmm, I noticed you shave your chest.”

Ryan, smiling lopsidedly, told her with a glance it was quite a change of subject. “Yes, I do. I read that most South American men consider this…strange and would never do it.”

“I haven’t seen it before. Most men like that mass of hair as if it makes them more…manly. Stress their heritage or their male accessories. I don’t see it that way. A man shouldn’t be judged by his hair…or lack of it.” Sara giggled. “May I?”

“Touch my chest? Do you think you need permission after we’ve already played in the water?”

Sara smiled and gently reached out to touch him with her fingertips.

Ryan cocked his head, lowering his chin to give her an inviting grin. “Now, that was kinda shy. May I ask you again—will you touch me? And put a little feeling into it?”

Sara flicked her tongue across her lips, brows arched. “Are you…shaven someplace else? Beyond your face?”

Ryan hesitated, evading her glance once again. “Yes.”

She put her hand over her mouth, holding back her words, but with a sparkle of curiosity asked, “Why?”

Again, Ryan hesitated.

“Too personal, hmm?” Sara flinched. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth is faster than my brain.”

“It’s just a good feeling,” Ryan said quietly. “I like it that way.”

Sara nodded, inching closer to put both hands on his chest, gently caressing him up to his shoulders. In slow-motion, she sat on his lap in a way that sped up his pulse immediately. His mouth was dry.

“Would you mind me…?” She stopped, searching his face.

Ryan swallowed, putting down the bottle. The tension had been building, and still a part of him didn’t want to follow the feeling. His voice was breathy. “You want permission to have a look? Or more?”

“I’d go for more.” A smile curled the corner of her lips sans lipstick. He found her lovely just the way she was. “And I bet I won’t be disappointed.”

***

Find my books at annraina.com

Follow me on Instagram at ann_raina_author

All my books are published by extasybooks.com and also available at online bookstores.

 

 

 

 

 

Come on! Why must a writer have a favourite genre?

Okay, call me soppy, but I do love writing romance. I love inventing a countryside, one that can’t possibly exist in real life because it’s colourful and fun and filled with cranky oddballs. My main characters don’t conform to rules but they’re wonderfully intelligent and gentle. And because they have passionate interests in unusual things (baroque music, or debunking myths, or spiders, or snakes, or archaeology, or the origins of country music) we know their love stories will definitely work out. There are the other books, too. Two mysteries set in France. I admit to being a voyeur, so what fun they were to write! Nothing soppy there. Just a peek into local life doused with bad behaviour, and unpleasant reality. Do the stories end well? Almost. And then there is my most recent: Words for Patty Jo. A general fiction, it is a love story… sort of. But there are social issues; the characters refuse to conform to pressure; there are nasty folks; there is an intimate view of marriage; there are terrible choices that need to be made. It is a portrait of our world; it is a study of us all. Yet nothing was more splendid than working on my three creative non-fiction books. Each was an obsession; each was like a great detective story. They meant shifting across countries, going through the archives in Romania, Germany, Holland, Hungary, France, England, Canada, and the USA. There was always doubt — would I find anything? A clue? A hint? A poem? A story? And when I did? Ecstasy! My non-fiction books Finding Home, A Contrary Journey, and Those Absent on the Great Hungarian Plain, took years of research. I had to learn new languages, sleep in fields, on trains, buses, and in very doubtful inns. I met strange folk — black marketeers, thieves, and scoundrels — who were, often enough, quite helpful. Then I had to write the books. Then I had to convince publishers to take them on. But boy-oh-boy, did I have fun! http://www.j-arleneculiner.com http://www.jillculiner-writer.com Podcast: https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner

Of Gods and Vengeance: Unravel the threads of fate #epicromantasy #enemiestolovers

 

Buy Now

It is written in blood.
One of Her kind will betray Her.

In a world where mortals are at the whims of the capricious gods, a prophecy foretells treachery committed by one of their own, leading to the inevitable downfall of the once-mighty Titans. The Great Goddess Rhea, seeking retribution, dispatches Her vengeance goddess, Becuille, to the land of Hatti. She is charged with the daunting task of uncovering the origins of star metal, a substance fatal to the old gods, and finding the enigmatic Destroyer.

Disguised as a human slave in the royal palace, Becuille finds herself entwined with her master, Prince Callileon, plunging both into a treacherous world of power-hungry gods, formidable magic, and widespread betrayal. As tension mounts and loyalties are tested, Becuille faces an impossible choice between duty to her goddess and the stirrings of forbidden love for Callileon.

Warning: Of Gods and Vengeance is a Greek tragedy romantasy featuring star-crossed lovers. It is set in a brutal Bronze Age era where slavery, human sacrifice, and animal sacrifice were commonplace.

Of Gods and Vengeance is part of a series. Since it’s a prequel, it could be read first or as a standalone, but I recommend reading the books in this order:
Of Water and Dragons, Of Ravens and Wolves, Of Gods and Vengeance.

Excerpt:

“Strip her of her rags and leave the room,” her master ordered.

The large black man ripped off her dirty clothing, leaving her exposed to the golden-haired man’s piercing gaze. Becuille bit her lip, fighting her anger and frustration. The slave left the room, and she was alone with her new master. Unblinking, he examined her naked body. She felt like a beast being inspected for use as a brood mare again, but she refused to shrink before him.

“What have we here?” He reached for the dagger strapped to her thigh in a leather sheath.

“Please, it means a lot to me.”

“Please? Do you think by begging me I will allow you to keep it?” His icy stare chilled her.

Ah, there was that glimpse of brutality, and she remained quiet.

Her new master unclasped the thin belt and yanked the sheath from her thigh. “You can earn it back from me.” He turned to leave and paused, facing her. “I am called Callileon, but to you I am your Lord and Master. Do not forget that, slave.”

He left the room, and Becuille’s fierce glare penetrated his retreating back. She decided that she hated this man and hoped he was the one she was sent to kill.

****

Review Quote:

“Of Gods and Vengeance is a Greek tragedy featuring star-crossed lovers set in an era where slavery and human and animal sacrifice were commonplace.” This tragic tale takes you on a bumper ride nevertheless thrilling journey that you don’t want to come to an end. I have read a number of Kelly Heckart’s books and she’s an incredibly gifted author. For lovers of this genre, her books are a rare treat.

Reviewed by Thunderbird

Enter a world of enchantment and passion

Website

Freeing the Beast - Erotic Paranormal RomCom - Erotic Play - Sexy Spells -Tina Donahue Monthly Newsmagazine #TinaDonahueBooks #EroticRomance #ParanormalRomance #RomCom #Giveaways #EyeCandy

  

FREEING THE BEAST

Erotic Paranormal Rom-Com

Book One - Taming the Beast

AMAZON

Who said sorcery & love wasn't fun?

A Yearning Witch Meets Cupid's Sexy Descendant

Erotic Play

Sexy Spells

A Cast that includes

A Good Fairy

A Female Demon 

And A Voodoo Priestess

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

For Becca Salt being a witch isn’t all magic. Too curvy and lonely, she spends her nights running a makeover service for demons, vamps, weres and zombies who want to project a more human, normal side. Their goal? To get the babes without the authorities hunting them down like rabid dogs. Once Becca suppresses the worst of their beast, they’re on the hunt and gone.

Dating has been a definite bitch for Eric Diletto. Although he’s hot and hung, he’s also one of Cupid’s descendants—a god born to believe in courtship, courtesy and all that other junk. Tired of women dumping him for the bad boys, Eric hires Becca to release his inner beast. Grrrr.

Two potions later, they’re crawling all over each other. With Eric’s newfound dominance, he’s definitely the man. And the god, who intends to take Becca here, there and everywhere. Who said sorcery and love wasn’t fun?

Warning—a witchdoctor’s nightmare. Contains potions with weird side effects, a sorceress with limited magical skills and a yearning heart, plus a minor god who wants to get down and dirty. Bad, bad boy.

PRAISE FOR FREEING THE BEAST

NOMINATED FOR BOOK OF THE MONTH

"Funny, sexy and ice melting, this book made me laugh, cry a little and want to keep reading long after the last page was done."

LASR (Long and Short Reviews)

A great mix of humor, seduction, mythology, witchcraft, bloopers and some good Italian food just rounded it off for keepers. Tina Donahue is now on my must read list and I really hope there will be more stories based on this novel. Loved it!

FIVE STAR REVIEWS - AMAZON

Amazing

Haven’t been so entertained in such a long Time thank you for this joyous time reading this amazing story! I can’t wait to read more. - Earauzn

***

This book was amazing. The good guys can win. Becca runs a paranormal makeover service. She is very good at what she does but when Eric walks in, things change. She has an instant attraction to him but she can’t figure out why. Two potions later, and the attraction is bigger than life. Is it the potion or does Eric really feel for her? She can’t imagine life without him but she can’t help but feel like it just the magic doing the work. Can Eric make her see that she is worth his love? A must read!!! - Julie Jackson

TEASERS

Excerpt:

     “You’re going to do my treatments in here?” There wasn’t any equipment around or things one might use for magic, like chicken feet, wands and other stuff.

“Before we begin, you need to read this.” She slid the papers she’d been reading across the desk to him.

He grabbed a chair and sat. “Is that the process?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s the contract you have to sign or nothing, and I do mean nothing, happens.”

Jesus, she was hardcore today. As a rule, business owners were that way with people who didn’t want their services, not ones who did. He bounced the inch-thick papers on his palm to test their weight. “I’m guessing this sucker weighs a pound. Am I right?”

She drummed her fingertips on her naked belly. Tiny silver stars cascaded from her navel. Each time she breathed, the jewelry caught the light.

He wanted to kiss the baubles and her dewy flesh.

She wore the same basic outfit she had when they had first met—flowy pants and a top that tied beneath her breasts, only these were in sapphire blue. The same shade as her eyes. Her makeup was no less dramatic than the last time—crimson lipstick that made her mouth undeniably kissable and black stuff surrounding her lids.

What a babe. Too bad she wasn’t into him. Maybe with the junk she came up with to bring out his beast, she would be. “Is your service usually this complicated?” He lifted the papers and hoped she wasn’t using them to run him off.

“The contract is simply full disclosure to help you understand the process. So you’re completely protected.”

A Wall Street hedge fund manager couldn’t have sounded as evasive. “Protected against what?”

Her face paled. She gestured to the papers he held. “It’s all in there. Go on, read it.”

“That could take days.”

She glanced to the right, the left and past him. When she’d run out of places to look, she dragged her attention back to his face. “Most of it’s standard legal junk. I’ve highlighted the important parts.”

“The ones that will release my inner beast.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

That again. She sounded far less confident than Eric would have liked or expected. He dropped the contract on her desk. The draft it created sent other papers floating to the edge.

Becca caught them before they fell to the floor. Her top gapped, exposing her lacy black bra. He gripped his chair and leaned up, rubbernecking.

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A little space talk

With the 57^th anniversary of the moon landing in July and the Artemis activity going on with our sites eventually on Mars, I’m reminded of Bride of the Pryde. Agent Susan McAllister starts off like Robert Redford in Three Days of the Condor, as she comes into her office and finds everyone murdered. Then she discovers that she’s the person the murderers are there for. She runs—right onto a ship ready to launch into space with three captains (one of which is a carryover character from Triple S Bride and one of which is an alien with interesting (ahem) equipment) and a robot who isn’t quiet with his resentment of her interference. Mix in a little drug that releases all inhibitions, capture by a real space villain, and a little betrayal from the least suspected corner, and you have Bride of the Pryde.

I’m so proud that NASA is once again taking an active role in putting people in space. It’s the future come to life in the present. But that’s reality. For us, let’s enjoy a few space fantasies!

Blurb:
DAT agent Susan McAllister escapes Earth with killers in hot pursuit. She normally runs toward danger not away, and she likes controlling her own fate, not relying on three strange men and an irreverent cyberbot. Skilled and experienced, she doesn’t believe there's any way the three crewmen of the cargo ship Erik's Pryde can help her.

Captain John Erik thinks the sexy, headstrong passenger is nothing but trouble, but he also knows she needs help. And not being men to shrink from adventure, he's convinced that he and his crew are the ones to provide it. When they're infected by an illegal drug that releases inhibitions, the crew of the Pryde shows they are men who not only can fight, but can satisfy a woman’s every fantasy.

It's no surprise when Susan discovers that being a member of the Pryde's crew has unexpected, lasting benefits.

Buy links:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Bride-Pryde-Siren-Publishing-Menage-ebook/dp/B007NIR4HO/

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bride-of-the-pryde-dee-s-knight/1109689352

Excerpt:
With a slight shudder, [Susan] accepted her new cover and stepped through the doorway—almost landing flat on her face when she missed the step down.

 * * * *

 Only Charlie’s quick reflexes saved her from falling flat on her face. And what a pretty face it is, too.

In fact, all of her was pretty—more than pretty. She was hot, which might be enough to mitigate the captain’s anger at the delay. Still, in the shipping business, time is money, and this beauty’s case of premarital nerves had already cost a bundle.

Holding her case in one hand and her elbow with the other, he ushered her down a short, covered walkway to another flight of steps. “I told you to watch your step,” he chided, “but you were busy watching that guy who was coming down the concourse. Is he the reason you were nervous about leaving?”

“Um…yeah. He–he thinks he has a claim on me.”

“But he doesn’t?” Charlie might as well get all the dirt right now. The captain was pissed enough without finding out later that trouble followed their passenger.

“He absolutely doesn’t,” she said. She sounded pretty damn sure.

They exited the shuttleway at the bottom of the stairs and walked to a small hover craft. She squirmed a little, as though uncomfortable.

“I maybe should mention, I have a weapon with me. Did I need to do something with it?”

A nervous woman and a gun. Bad combination. Damn. This’ll be one interesting flight. “The captain will want to secure it during the flight.”

She seemed to consider that fact. “All right,” she said after a hesitation.

Charlie stowed her bags and helped her aboard the craft. “I’m Charlie Sheridan, by the way.”

She didn’t acknowledge the introduction. “I’m the last passenger to board, right? I mean, once the doors close that’s it, we’re ready to go?”

That was an interesting question. Whether because of nerves or whatever, Danessa Vanessa was acting strangely.

He got them underway before saying, “Danessa, you’re the only passenger.”

“What?”

Charlie took a moment to study her. Her face was small and delicate, highlighted by large, liquid-brown eyes. Under a blonde wig, which had pulled up in back when she stumbled, she’d stuffed shiny, dark-brown hair. Her luscious mouth had full, soft-looking lips that begged to be kissed.

He would fantasize about that—and probably more, considering those tits, practically spilling out of that tight top, narrow waist, and legs that kept going and going. One kiss would set him on fire. He wouldn’t want to stop at a fantasy. And with flaring hips just made to hold onto when she rode his cock, who’d blame him?

She’s on her way to get married, you slug.

He concentrated on business, forcing his thoughts along other paths. “Intergalactic Brides did tell you that our ship is a freighter, right? It’s just you and our crew.”

“Criminy,” she whispered.

“I assure you, we’ll respect your privacy,” he said quickly. He pressed a button on his COMM unit.

“Erik here.” The captain said only two words, but any member of his crew recognized the tightly controlled tension in his voice. The half-hour delay had been hell for a man to whom punctuality was sacred.

“We’re on our way out now,” Charlie said.

“About damn time,” Erik replied.

“Captain, she’s carrying a weapon, a pistol I believe. I haven’t seen it.”

“When you come aboard stow it in the weapons locker. Stow the rest of her bags in her cabin and show her to the bridge.”

“Right. Out,” Charlie said.

“Who was that?”

“The captain, John Erik. He prefers to be called Erik,” Charlie said playfully, echoing her words.

“People shouldn’t be allowed to have interchangeable names.”

“As opposed to rhyming names, huh?” He added a smile to show he was teasing. The woman still had her weapon, after all.

“He sounded a bit testy.”

Charlie didn’t answer. He’d worked with John Erik for the past eight years, ever since gaining his pilot’s pin, and the man never stopped at testy. He was either a hundred percent with you or a hundred twenty percent pissed.

 

Reviews

“ABSOLUTELY WELL ROUNDED STORYLINE AND SUSPENSE WRAPPED TOGETHER. AN ENGAGING AND ENJOYABLE READING PLEASURE.” 5 stars

“This a great sci-fi romance. The mystery and love are numerous and wonderful. I highly recommend this book. Great author.” 5 stars

“This is a good action/adventure/romance story and I would recommend it to anyone who likes this type of story.” 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. Sign up for my newsletter and have access to free reads.

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 Lady of the Lake by @meganslayer @changelingpress #romance #paranormal #ghosts

 

Taken by the Lady of the Lake (Taken 12) by Megan Slayer

BIN: 011758-03831

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Capture Fantasy, Elves /Dragons /Magical Creatures, Magic /Sorcery /Witchcraft, Murder Mystery, Shapeshifters

Series: Taken (#12)

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 112

She’s an urban legend. He’s adrift. With a little magic, they’ll discover their fates are entwined.

Amanda Fortune never expected to be left in the lake, but after her murder and subsequent dumping, that’s exactly where she is. She’s become an urban legend, her ghost seen only by a very few. She longs to have a second chance at life, but that’s not possible when you’re dead. Is it?

With the right circumstances, anything is possible.

Sawyer Gibson doesn’t know what he’s meant to do in life. He has abilities to read the Fates, but his talents aren’t needed in the town of Eerie. Everyone here has magic. He’s nothing special. But Aunt Chloe is dying, and she knows more than Sawyer ever thought possible. Amanda is -- was -- her best friend. So Aunt Chloe sends Sawyer on a chase to find Amanda’s killer.

But Amanda’s a myth. A ghost. And ghosts can’t be seen, right?

The moment Sawyer lays eyes on Amanda, he’s smitten. There’s the tiny problem of her being a ghost… but that detail won’t stop Sawyer, even if someone else thinks it will.

Buy a copy here: https://www.changelingpress.com/taken-by-the-lady-of-the-lake-taken-12-b-3831

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GBLS9PFK

Excerpt:

Copyright ©2026 Megan Slayer

 “When I was a little boy, my aunt told me about her friend, Amanda. She said her friend was a lovely person and so sweet, but she disappeared. For the rest of her life, my Aunt Chloe wanted to know what happened to her friend.”

“Chloe?” She didn’t venture closer, but the mere mention of the name pricked her curiosity again.

“My mother’s sister. Do you know Chloe? Or Marie, my mother?” he asked. “My mother died five years ago, but Chloe held on. Her magic is fading.”

“No,” she whispered. Chloe had the strongest magic. She should be just fine.

“She told me you liked being here. She said this was your favorite place and you’d spend hours among the trees and around the water, existing in nature. She said you might have even been part woodland nymph because you were here so much. She loved the nights you’d go dancing together, and the days spent talking and mixing spells,” he said. “She said she was never the same after you disappeared.”

“No?” She couldn’t be excited. Not yet. She needed some detail only the true Chloe would know. Something only she could tell this man. “I can’t trust you.”

“I know you can’t.” He sighed again. “Why would you?”

The last man she’d thought she could trust had murdered her.

“She knew about the abuse and that you wanted to get away. She was trying to figure out a plan to get you out of that house without him knowing. To this day, she deals with the guilt of not working fast enough. You deserved better.”

She emerged from behind the tree. “What did he steal from me?” If he knew this, then he’d spoken to Chloe. Only her best friend would remember she never let go of her locket.

“Besides your magic? He stole your necklace,” the man said. “It was your favorite piece of jewelry.”

“Why?” She held onto the tree for stability, even if her legs weren’t holding her up.

“Because it came from your mother and was one of the few things you had to remember her by.”

If she’d been standing on her feet, she would’ve collapsed. “Who are you?”

“Sawyer Gibson.” He stood and held out his hand. “I don’t know where you are, but I hear you and I want to see you. I want to help you.”

Changing with the Seasons of Life

I’m a night owl through and through (so is my son, which is its own blessing and curse). I can’t remember a time I didn’t feel more productive in the evening. I’ve always felt more comfortable in the dark and cozy time in the night, when everything is quiet, everything is done, and I can finally let my mind play.

That is, until I had my son.

Turns out, as a mom, there is never a time when everything is done. The evening has transitioned for me from a time when I could finally relax and let my imagination run wild, to a time when I have to try and fit in the million things I wasn’t able to get done during the day. To the time when I still have my ear half listening for cries and whimpers, even though my son has been sleeping through the night for almost two years. To a time when I’m so depleted and exhausted, I have nothing left to give to anyone. Not even my story.

At first I thought I needed better systems. Ways to get more done, so there was less remaining to be done at the end of the day. And that has helped. I do feel like I have more mental bandwidth now that I have improved my system. But still, at the end of the day, I felt too tired to do anything. My body and brain were exhausted. Far too tired for the exciting—but also demanding—work of creating. While I love writing, it takes a lot of energy, and focus. And I just didn’t have that at night anymore.

I evaluated all the productivity advice I’ve heard over the years, and tried to think of another solution, but the only one I could come up with was to start my day writing. Its advice many have given before. Focus the beginning of your day on what matters most, when you have the most energy to give. Before, I’d never thought this advice would work for me. Because I’ve always been a night owl writer.

But desperation is the mother of invention, so I decided to give it a try. I set my alarm for six am, went to bed early and prayed for a good result. I even set up a reward system, to incentivize myself for getting up early, fully prepared that it would be like pulling teeth to get myself out of bed before the crack of dawn. And for the first week, I employed that system. But early on, I discovered something I never could have guessed.

I liked getting up early.

It didn’t take long before I began adapted my whole life around waking up early. I was naturally going to bed earlier, so I could get up earlier. I was even waking up before my alarm went off some mornings. I was getting mad when I couldn’t get up early. Because I found that I enjoyed that quiet time in the morning more than the quiet time at night. Because I wasn’t exhausted. I wasn’t already tapped out and only capable of doomscrolling on Instagram. I was able to be me. The person I was before all the mental labor of being a mom.

I started getting more writing done. I am now almost halfway finished with a revision/rewrite project I’ve been wanting to do for years. I’ve been consistently making progress, which I haven’t been able to do for over a year, and I couldn’t be happier.

When I first started this new schedule, I feared it would make the end of the day worse. That I would be run even more ragged than before, since I started the day earlier, but I haven’t found that to be the case. Sure I’m tired at the end of the day, and more inclined to go right to bed after my son falls asleep, but no more so than before. As I’ve made this change, I’ve noticed that getting up early gives me more energy. Taking time for myself in the morning, to focus on me before everyone else, has filled my cup in a way I’d been missing.

I wasn’t just able to do my writing, but to be a better mom too. I was also able to be more patient with my son, because I wasn’t waking up and instantly being thrown into mom mode. I was able to play with him in the morning, because I was already awake and enjoying my day. I found I was writing more. Not just in the morning, but any time I could find. I’m now more inclined to pick up my writing than I was before, because I’m already connected to my story from my morning writing session. 

The toddler stage is just a season, and I’m sure that once my son is through this season I’ll need to reevaluate my writing time again. Maybe in the future, writing at night will make more sense. Maybe in the future getting up early won’t be possible (I’m already dreading having to get him up another hour earlier for kindergarten in a few years), but for now I’m changing with the season of life I am in. And I’m grateful I’ve have found a way to be the mom I want to be, while also finding a little time for myself and my own goals. Even if it’s at an ungodly early hour of day.

So if you’re struggling and finding at this moment you can’t fit in what you need, or your losing yourself to the stage of life you are in, take a moment to evaluated what you need. Try to figure out where you can find time for those things, even if its somewhere you might not expect. Play around, experiment, try something new and see if it works. It might not. But once you find what does, and you’re able to find a way to fit yourself into whatever this tough stage may be, you’ll be glad you did.