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10

SUNDAYS WITH SHARON: Angels and Dark Angels, Heaven and the Underworld

Many of you know the journey I took to become a writer. We'd driven home from a day in San Francisco. It was a beautiful March day, like we get so often here. No rain. Blue skies and big white clouds. We opted for a simple dinner and so I was munching on a salad when I heard a buzzing sound I'd never heard before. Coming up the steps, there was no smoke, so my husband thought the smoke detector was defective, and bat it down with a broom handle. We went back to our meal. Then we smelled smoke.

It never occurred to us our lives would be so changed that evening. Coming up the stairway, looking into our bedroom, I saw my rose-colored leather recliner was on fire. A perfect circle of fire was on the back, like the hand of God had touched it. Within seconds, it ignited the curtains, then snaked along the ceiling and a thick black smoke rolled toward us like a tidal wave. We knew that toxic cloud wasn't going to be healthy so we went downstairs to get buckets of water, but when we returned, the entire top floor was ablaze. 

I was in my nightie, barefoot. We called the Fire Department and they were here within 12 minutes, along with 4 other engines and a crew of men in case our fire traveled up the hill and spread to neighboring properties. I sat on the steps and watched as everything in the upstairs was destroyed, the downstairs was covered with water and carpets to protect some of the furniture. They expected our floor to cave in any minute. My husband drank a beer and smoked one of his Cuban cigars he'd rescued from the refrigerator. I was finishing my salad. It was surreal.

The road to coming back was long and arduous. Our bank was being taken over by the Feds, the County wasn't sure they'd let us rebuild, our insurance company wasn't giving us the money to redesign a new home or start construction. It took us 18 months before we could get cooperation from the parties to even start.

In the meantime, I lived in a little apartment and for the first time in over 35 years, was alone, since my husband stayed up on the property in a trailer to help with our animals, and to stop the steady flow of people who “stopped by” to give us a quote and then helped themselves to our things, I guess thinking we wouldn't mind.

In short, I felt violated on so many levels. All my great grandmother's jewelry, her delicious collection of amber and jade were gone. The box my other great great grandmother brought over with her when she was 14, lovingly made by her father in Scotland, who never saw her again, was gone. Her braid, which was exactly my hair color, was gone. Lizzy, her doll was gone. Pictures the kids had made. Oil paintings we'd bought all over the world were gone. Our computers looked like something from a Dali painting. Here and there something miraculous would be untouched, but 97% of what was upstairs was gone.

Initially, I did the staying up late to watch TV movies, since I didn't have to worry about keeping anyone up but myself. I read Outlander and then read it again. Then I read the Twilight series. I began to have vivid dreams of angels, guardian angels, and I slowly began to believe that instead of being incredibly unlucky, in fact, we were very lucky. We survived. We learned to cope and do things we'd never had to do before.

And I began to write.

I am a bit on the obsessive side of the scale. I sat down on December 15, 2008 and by January 15, 2009 I had written 90,000 words, and my first novel. I learned later that was a phenomenal amount of words. But then I didn't know. My story didn't have a villain, didn't have much of a story arc, except I began to think about what it would be like if a Guardian Angel fell in love with the person they were supposed to watch over. Would they be tempted to let themselves be known? Would they want to connect? Would they be banished from Heaven? I rewrote that story 57 times. No, that one didn't get trashed like you hear writers talk about. This one came from my soul, and I could never stop working on it until it was perfect. It became Heavenly Lover, my first book. My second book, Underworld Lover, came to me before I finished the first one. And just now, I have released the third book in the series, Underworld Queen. I continued on with many of the characters so that the villain in Book 1 is the hero in Book 2. The villainess in Book 2 is the heroine in Book 3. Everyone gets a chance to transform, to fall in love with their true love, to have their happily ever after. Everyone has a shot at redemption.

The basis premise is this: Heaven isn't 100% perfect by design. The Underworld isn't 100% evil by accident. Humans walk the fence between the two. It's not a religious book, but there is a good vs. evil theme, which is actually the same theme throughout all my books, paranormal or SEALs.

As I begin a new year, and look at my schedule and what books I want to finish or write this year, I have to remember that sometimes the greatest things that happen to me are just that: things that happen. Not things I planned at all. Or perhaps the better way of saying it is that I plan, adjust, based on what I'm given. Dealing with life on life's terms. Doesn't do any good to cry over what I've lost. I'm also not blonde, 20 years old and a supermodel with an unlimited income.

But I do possess the miracle of being able to take tragedy and make stories out of them. To feel. To be sad some days for sure, but then to rejoice in the little things, like meeting a blue jay that used to greet me every morning at breakfast outside the kitchen window. Writing all night long if I felt like it. Watching my grandkids play and sing, and yes, to have my granddaughter want me to help her write a book. She's 4. Isn't that also a miracle.

So, in 2015 I profess to obtaining and keeping my miracle glasses on 24/7. I've learned I can survive. If we'd lost it all I would have survived. And the other true miracle is that my stories will last forever.

http://youtu.be/AmvCeqr3QDU

 

 

Heavenly Lover Featured on Audible!

Get your copy today!

Claire, an unconventional Guardian angel sent to save a sexy Brazilian-born painter from killing himself, discovers Daniel has been preyed upon by a powerful dark angel posing as his best friend and agent.

Although successful in saving Daniel's life, Claire is in danger of losing her own when attraction to her handsome charge blooms into a forbidden love. The dark angel offers her what she's only dared to dream about – an eternity with Daniel.

Will she sacrifice her soul, or sacrifice a lifetime with a man she knows she was created to love?

6

A-Z Challenge: 30 Days of Stories

Tomorrow will start the infamous A-Z Blog Challenge. This will be my third year in a row. Every day in April will be a new post on the theme I've selected. In past years, I've learned so much, and met some wonderful people.

At the side (upper right) you will see a button where you can go to the list and choose another blog to follow, read, and comment, if you wish. There are no prizes here, for the most part, just an opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, blogging about all sorts of things.

Last year I did 30 days of Gratitude. This year, I'm going to do 30 days of Stories. Some will be family stories, some character stories as I do research, some stories of things that could happen in the future. I like exploring the past while I forge ahead to the future.

Won't you come along with me on this journey?

Until then, may all your travels be joyous and your linkys continue to work.

8

Angels at Christmas: The Start of the Writing Journey

Angels and the Heaven
That Could Be
I was raised in a traditional family, or as traditional as a
family could be in Northern California during the ‘50’s and ‘60’s. And yes, we
had our fair share of quirky characters, as all families do. Laced in there were
some serious hours doing service at our local church, mostly because that’s
what my parents had done, how they had met, in the shadow of my grandfather,
who was an evangelist.
Let me set you straight here, this blog isn’t about religion
or much of anything in the way of values, other than as it relates to my
characters. I’ve always said I’m a Christian with a bent antennae. I’ll
explain.
I was given a unique view behind the curtain, to see what
went on behind the production number that was the stage. And that’s where I
think the real story is. I got to see the women, kids in tow, coming to my
grandfather’s house in the middle of the night, after being beaten by a raging
husband. Those things really do happen in the real world. I’d see them at
breakfast the next day, and watch as my grandfather would hand out a free meal
or a little money to people out of luck. He told me the “hobos”, as we used to
call them, marked his fence so one that followed would know there was a kind
person living there who might share a scrap of food. I once gave my favorite
teddy bear to a little girl who was about 4 and clearly was afraid. I was
afraid too. Afraid for her future. I often think of her little face, standing
in my grandfather’s kitchen, barefoot, with syrup running down her chin.
What has always interested me is what makes people do the
things they do. And what choices they make in life. I didn’t want to go into
religious studies. I wanted to know what motivated
them. So, in college I majored in Psychology.
Years later, after raising a family of my own and now
beginning to see them have children, I still don’t really know what makes
people do what they do. But I know how to write it down.
Heavenly Lover is
my first book, and it was the book that seized me one cold December day when I
was visiting my daughter for her college graduation in Portland. We were snowed
in that day, and the graduation (mid-year, smaller) was cancelled. And like the famous story of Mary Shelley, who wrote
Frankenstein, we started talking about stories as we went around the room. I
had been dreaming about angels, but not anything close to the angels I’d
learned about in Sunday School. These were fully fleshed out beings with
personalities, in a beautiful place with gardens and classrooms so they could learn
about human life.
My blonde angel character was innocent, but drawn to the
human world like a moth is drawn to a light fixture. The story developed that
her attraction to all things human was what made her such an effective Guardian
Angel. And she had a 100% track record, unlike anyone else.
I constructed a world around her and the possibility that
she might fall in love so hard, that she wanted to give up her wings and become
human. And so I explored what that would look like, how she would feel, and
what the consequences would be.
The premise became: 
Heaven isn’t 100% perfect by design. The Underworld isn’t 100% evil by
accident.
I began thinking that she would test the premise that all
beings had free will, human as well as angelic. And I wanted her to push the
boundaries. And not just push them, I wanted her to fall off the edge and watch
her recover, if she could.
Thirty days later, in mid January, I had that first draft
done. It was 92,000 words. I asked other writers I was becoming friends with if
that was normal, and realized I am a prolific writer. Now that version has been
re-written over 50 times now, vetted and critiqued on the contest circuit,
where it did very well. It took a lot of people to help me wrestle with this
behemoth first novel. But the end result is something that is near and dear to
my heart. The premise and the ending remained the same.
I’m now on my 4th book in the angel series.
You might ask me if I believe in the presence of a higher
power. And I have to say, when I shut my eyes and tune out everything else,
that someone else is there.
I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve taken. No, it probably
won’t send you back to church. But it might make you believe in perfect love.
For life doesn’t have to be 100% perfect to be fully enjoyed. We don’t have to
be 100% perfect to love or be loved.
2

The Case For Love (Not that it needed it)

A close family member had been grieving at the loss of a relationship. He asked me, “How do you find another partner? How do you find someone to love?”

I told him, “It's like catching a butterfly.”
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“You go out in the yard and wait for one to land on you.”
I was serious. Used to do that as a small child. With head back and arms outstretched to the sides, standing in the sunlight with my eyes closed, butterflies would come and land on my fingers, or on my head. I made myself a beacon for those beautiful winged creatures in my mother's flower garden.
Love isn't about trying to find anything. It finds you. You can't hold onto it, you receive it. Open hand to receive, not clutching in a fist. My relative was trying too hard. Wanted desperately to fill the big God-shaped hole in his chest.
I used that theme when I wrote Heavenly Lover. I liked the image of Guardian Angels dispatching their duties to save humans from throwing away their souls. And then the Guardians get snagged by love unexpectedly. All of a sudden, they notice the gap in their own chest. If love is universal, possessing great healing powers, why wouldn't an angel stumble upon this, not knowing before that he/she needed it? Meeting the “other” changes their angelic lives, for the good.
One of the most wonderful things about being a romance writer is living in the possibility of love 24/7. Okay, maybe that was a lie. Not always 24/7, but enough of my waking day as possible.
Because living in the possibility is where all the miracles are located.
I hope this Valentine's Day is filled with miracles and the possibility of miracles. And know that you are loved beyond what you can manage to believe.

2

Underworld Lover is out now!

So pleased to announce Underworld Lover is out now. It is the second book in my Guardians series, about a dark angel who falls in love with a human woman whose soul he cannot claim. Jimmy Thomas, the international cover model who has graced some 2000 romance novel covers, is the perfect Joshua Brandon, the hero. My thanks to Kendra Egert for the beautiful cover artwork.

When I was writing Book 1, Heavenly Lover, Josh was the villain. But I must admit, I sort of fell in love with him while writing his character. He was a very bad boy in Book 1, but I knew inside he had a heart of gold, and that's what comes out in Book 2. And though this story is finished, I'm not done with him yet. More about that later.

His character starts out smarting from his first failure to claim a human soul. My premise for the series is this: Heaven isn't 100% perfect by design. The Underworld isn't 100% evil by accident. The Underworld is a place where things happen by chaos, where the Director is elected, and everyone cheats. Nobody really wants the job, and all prior Directors have never followed the rules, set in dusty ledgers no one has opened for centuries.

In this chaotic mix of sensual pleasures and “do your own thing” philosophy, as long as souls are being claimed and the Underworld is growing, dark angels are happy and left free. This goes a long way to convince humans to end their lives and join the Underworld ranks.

But a new Director has been elected, who wants this position and has a dark agenda. He sees the legendary and extremely popular Joshua Brandon as being a threat to his consolidation of power. So, the Underworld has taken on an oppressive atmosphere. Dark angels with black oily wings are being created again, with the gift of fire breathing, and a war with Heaven is brewing.

In the midst of it all, Josh finds he has fallen in love with a human woman. Just happens to be that the new Director wants her too.

I like to write about a character's higher calling. Love heals in the gardens of the heart, is a theme throughout all my books. My premise is that once the character meets the love of their life, their life changes. These changes set in motion battles of lust, passion, redemption and sacrifice. My dark angels have to go to meetings, similar to 12-step programs.

It has been a wonderful journey, first dreaming about these characters and then putting them down on paper. I hope the readers embrace my twisted sense of good and evil, and suspend disbelief just enough to be entertained.

After all, reality is a story too.

Excerpt, Underworld Lover:


Josh knew there were some things anyone would willingly die for. Unlike some of his more ruthless angel friends, he did not see it as a flaw in the DNA, a secret code Father had sewn into everything he created to ensure life would go on or that hope was never entirely eliminated. Hope was something humans felt. Dark angels focused on reality. It was simply the underlying rule. It was smart to know all the rules, big and small, in order to operate as unfettered as possible. He didn’t have to agree with them all. But he damn well needed to know them. The mistake wasn’t in breaking the rules; it was not knowing you were breaking them and what the consequences were.

There’s no right or wrong, just consequences. Always consequences to consider.
Melanie had ducked inside, not giving Josh the chance to see her face, but he saw her blond hair, pulled in a long French braid that cascaded down her back. She wore jeans and a blue, long sleeved T-shirt.
“You can’t talk to her,” Josh said to Felix, who was fixated on the front door. The younger dark angel’s breathing was strong and ragged. His hands were fluttering at the sides of his pants. “I’ll go,” Josh continued.
“Will you tell her I’m okay, that I still love her?” Felix finally looked at his mentor head on.
“But you’re not okay, Felix. You’re dead. Remember? They buried you.”
“No they didn’t, boss.” Karl inserted.  “He came to us before that. They buried a box with a couple of bags of sand.” Karl was, as usual, trying to be helpful, but he pissed Josh off anyway.
“Karl, how many days since you’ve witnessed a vaporization?”
“Please, no. I’m so sorry, sir.”
“You’ll be sorrier as you and your black soul melt in the fires of the Underworld. Shut the fuck up.”
Josh turned back to Felix. “As much as I would like to, I can’t tell her about you. Not unless you want to jeopardize her soul. Do you want me to set it up so you negotiate that with her? I can train you to do it, man.”
“No.”
“I can fix it, make it so you sit down and reason with her just like Karl demonstrated earlier.”
No!”
“Don’t you want just a taste?”
“No.”
“Try it. You might like it.”
“Fuck no. I want her to live!”
A woman stopped at the traffic light turned and scowled.
Josh continued, “You want her little body? I know you do, Felix.”
“Yeah, but not in that way. I want her alive, not dead.”
“Sorry, man, it doesn’t work that way. But, if you claim her, she can live with you forever.”
“Yeah? Well, I think she’d hate me forever.”
Cars traveled in front of them, bifurcating the distance to the shop.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Well then, you could introduce her to Peter. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Shut up. I don’t want her to have anything to do with that guy.”
“Those are good instincts, man,” Josh said. “So, I’m being generous when I tell you I will give her a little warning, something to arm her in case Peter comes calling.” Josh waited to see if Felix would react. “You sure you don’t want to sponsor her, make her yours?”
 “Absolutely not.” Felix shook his head.
Josh was pleased. He knew where Felix’s line was and he finally knew how far he could push him. It made him wonder, for just a second, where his own line was. Over the three centuries he’d lived as a dark angel he had been able to find out everyone else’s, but never his own. Part of him thought maybe he didn’t have one after all.
Is there anything I wouldn’t do for a price? He turned his attention back to Karl.
            “If this kid gets any ideas, you have my permission to haul him off and summon someone to help you bring him back home, where I’ll give him a lesson of the permanent kind. But Karl, don’t test me, you understand?”
            “Crystal clear, sir.” Karl was standing to attention like he’d been entrusted with the keys to the universe, with the heart of a warrior, not an ex-garbage man.
            Josh then walked briskly across the street, dodging traffic, toward the gated opening. Music was playing in the background, laced with birdcalls. Colorful birdhouses of various shapes were affixed to poles grounded in large earth-filled pots.
 Homes and castles for the fine-feathered things I hate. Josh saw them as nuisances and impediments to his late morning sleep. He didn’t think it was natural anything could be that happy all the time.
            Pots of large showy pink and purple hydrangeas along with lemon bushes overloaded with deep yellow fruit and fragrant white blossoms formed the next line in front of the birdhouses. On the floor, tucked away randomly, were shallow pots filled with blooming spring flowers in all the colors possible. Josh’s nose itched. He hadn’t seen so much blooming color since his last trip to the Farmer’s Market to visit his friend Simon, the electric cellist who liked to play his sad music and pick up girls.
            She’d probably like one of Simon’s CDs. He made a point to get one to her right away. Embedded in the music was a very subtle NLP message a human could not hear except subconsciously; praying for sex, praying for death.
            Josh walked through the entrance and was assaulted with a big bouquet of red roses that was moving so fast he was unable to stop before impact. Immediately he felt the crush of the delicious red flora. They emitted their syrupy sweetness through petals that fell on the shoulders and blond head of a beautiful young woman with light pink skin. She looked up at his face, hers registering shock. Her eyes were wide and deep blue as the sky. He was drowning—his heart stopped for a second. The scent of thyme herbal hand cream, fresh lemon soap, and lip-gloss infused with a cherry flavor filled his nostrils. He knew that if he willed her, he could make her stand in front of him, raise her chin, part her lips for him, and beg he claim her.
And, as gratifying as it would be, he didn’t want to make her do it. At last, he shared something in common with Felix.
He wanted to keep her from being captured.




I hope you enjoy taking this journey with me. I'd love to hear.

Sharon Hamilton
Santa Rosa, California
sharonhamilton2001@gmail.com

2

Underworld Lover: New Release Coming Tomorrow

I'm uploading my new release, the second book in my Guardian Angel series, Underworld Lover. As usual, my friend, Tina Folsom, is helping me with the technical aspects of making sure it is done correctly, and looks great. I've had feedback that my books are the best formatted readers have seen. Makes me happy.

I'll announce when it's up and ready for sale. But just had to share the cover. Jimmy Thomas is perfect (again–I mean when isn't he?).

Here's the blurb:

Joshua Brandon, a legendary and powerful rogue dark angel, meets a human woman whose soul he cannot take, and finds something he has not experienced before: love. At the same time, a new director comes to power in the Underworld, who asks for a test of Josh's loyalty by delivering this very woman to him.

Melanie Worthington is back among the living, after reeling from the suicide of a close friend. She has no idea she is to become the pawn between two powerful dark angels, one who would command her as his personal concubine, and the other who would set her free.

Will their love survive the battle between the two dark angels, or will Joshua risk his own immortal life to protect the woman he loves?

5

Angel is Out Today!

So happy Angel is out today. Available on all eformats. I know it's up on Amazon. We're waiting for B&N and Smashwords.

Claire, an unconventional Guardian angel sent to save a sexy Brazilian-born painter from killing himself, discovers Daniel has been preyed upon by a powerful dark angel posing as his best friend and agent. Although successful in saving Daniel’s life, Claire is in danger of losing her own when attraction to her handsome charge blooms into a forbidden love. The dark angel offers her what she’s only dared to dream about—an eternity with Daniel. Will she sacrifice her soul, or sacrifice a lifetime with a man she knows she was created to love?Here's an excerpt: Daniel hesitated a second, then lumbered to the stairway, mumbling something not in English. Claire willed herself up to the top landing, near the entrance to what she assumed was Daniel’s master bedroom suite. As he passed through her, she smelled the wine, the sweat, and trace elements of his aftershave. Telling herself she was concerned he wouldn’t try to injure himself further, she followed him into the bathroom, leaned herself against the door for support, and watched as he slipped the tight black slacks with paint smudges down over his briefs. In one smooth move, he bent over and slipped off the gray briefs, exposing the tanned and muscled cheeks of his ass. She blushed at this intimate view of him from behind. The smooth, tanned flesh made her quiver. He was healthier than the charges she usually got. Lean and well toned, this one didn’t resemble the usual cadre of suicidals who had done years of damage to themselves, usually through drug and alcohol use. Simply put, Daniel was perfect in every way, from his broad smooth shoulders to the smallness of his rear and tightness of his thighs that were dusted with just a little dark hair. She watched the muscles move under his skin as he pulled aside the shower curtain and stepped in. When the water began to run she waited, giving him privacy. Truth was, she usually liked to shower with her charges, but it was not the recommended way. She would give him a little more distance tonight; let him show her his dreams and the true source of his torment. Her instincts told her to be cautious. Something in her internal radar was bleeping off the charts. She inched her way closer so she could smell the shower gel he used. She leaned against the wall, letting the lemony steam cover her invisible but sensitive angel flesh. She closed her eyes and listened to him reprimanding himself in Portuguese. It wasn’t important to have a word-for-word translation; she understood perfectly what he was saying. The way the sounds rolled off his tongue and the deep resonance of his voice was soothing. She knew in that instant that she could save him. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He was fighting with himself, and right now that was a good thing. She was still daydreaming when the water stopped and he reached for the towel located on the wall Claire was leaning against. His hands went through her shoulders to grip the blue terrycloth hanging there. She didn’t move as he pulled the fluffy cotton to him, buryied his face in it, and then reached behind him to towel-dry his hair with one muscled arm as he arched backwards and gave her a first class view of his chiseled abs, and more. The place where he had touched her was warm. The full length of this slick, wet Adonis who smelled of fresh lemons was no more than four or five inches from the edges of her gown, but her body underneath began to glow and she was suddenly shy, and blushed. This had never happened to her before. When his hands again went through her body to replace the towel, and he exhaled a release, filling her nostrils with his mortal breath, she knew she had to get out of the room. Willing herself into his bedroom, she rubbed her upper arms until the sensation of his palms was gone, and took a deep breath. Daniel dressed while she stepped out onto the upper landing and occupied herself watching Joshua tinker around in the kitchen below. In a crisp white shirt that smelled freshly laundered, and a pair of blue jeans with sandals, Daniel brushed by her angel gown, not knowing he barely grazed her back. She followed the trail of his scent as he danced down the stairs, fingers of his long dark hair trailing behind him. Close one. Other Guardians had told her if some kind of attraction occurred between the angel and the charge, her invisibility could be compromised. And if she appeared to him in the flesh at any time, it might mean a quick trip home to Heaven. She would have to be extra careful to make sure that didn’t happen.
3

Do You Think I Can Fly?

I hired the talented Cindy Pavlinac http://www.CAPavlinac.com to help me design some author shots. Her stunning photographs of sacred places has charmed me into a journey and has inspired some of the scenes in my stories. I also participated in a Labyrinth Walk in San Francisco's Grace Cathedral last November. It was the highlight of the holiday season for me.

Heavenly Lover is being readied for release, and every time I drive by this stunning sculpture by local artist, Bryan Tedric, I'm filled with emotion. It is a sacred space for me. You can visit his website here: bryantedrick.com.

If you've been to Burning Man, this sculpture has been there too. These wings move back and forth in the breeze, catch light from all different angles at all times of the day.
When we shot this, the sky was initially gray, but as we continued shooting, the clouds parted, literally right there above my head, and we got wonderful striations and blue sky.
I've said before I'm a Christian with a bent antennae. I believe in good and evil and guardian angels everywhere, as well as much more. And so that's the story I was driven to write.
I don't dare to attempt to instruct anyone on anything religious, because it is to me something very personal. I'm not qualified to deliver a message. I'm creating a fantasy, something for entertainment. A movie in the mind. A world that might be, could be and is, in my mind only.

Love

Would you expect me to write about anything else?

There are many kinds of love. I was talking about writing romance last night over dinner. The love relationship in my stories is usually hero/heroine. But yesterday I was writing a scene where an older man was thinking about his wife of almost 30 years, who had passed on, and how he missed her, and how he'd wished they'd had children so some part of her remained in his life.
He was talking with another man of about the same age, who had children, but not the devoted love relationship of the first man. And yet, there was a deep committed love in his life as well, and from that common space between them, they could cooperate and focus on a common goal. These are secondary characters, allies of the Hero.
Have you noticed the pure love a baby gives when he smiles at you? I see my grandson light up when my son walks into the room. It is almost a religious experience for me. And I say that with all due respect to every religion.
Love heals. I believe in this with every fibre of my being. Take something flawed, something broken or damaged, and add a loving relationship, and you have something that can mend, become greater than it was before. This transformational love is what I write about.
I'm sitting in a restaurant now, and there is an old woman who is in some pain, with a bandana on, indicating to me she is undergoing some radiation or chemotherapy treatments. She is sitting next to a son who appears to be devoted to her. She leans against his shoulder and he lets her rest her head. She smiles and mumbles things, and he is attentive. Her husband looks stressed. He frowns, is preoccupied. I understand his pain. At least I think I understand his pain.
My Angel will be released sometime in May. I write about how a Guardian Angel loves her work, and her charge so much, she will give up immortality to be with the man she was created to love. I can't wait for you to read it.
What do you think about love? What inspires you when you hear that word? Or when you hear the name of the person who is your true love?

Josh: Writing the Bad Boys

I wrote my first book, Angel, which will be out on the e-formats in May, without a villain. I used the barrier of an angel wanting to be human as being the villain in the original story. But after I had finished it, realized I needed an honest-to-goodness actual villain.

So I made up a dark angel, Joshua Brandon. The more I wrote him, the more I fell in love with him. And what happened was, I knew by the time I had finished editing this book, Josh had to have his own book. So, the next one I wrote was Dark Angel, about Josh's conversion from dark to light.
I even think it is easier for me to write the bad boy character than the flawed good guy. I absolutely love how the flaws and scars get melted away by the true love of a good woman, especially if that woman is the opposite of anyone he has been interested in the past.
That spark that exists between the hero and the heroine, their initial and subsequent chemistry, I enjoy writing those parts even more than the sex scenes. And that's saying a lot. I love those too.
I decided to post an exerpt here, showing how he is trying to talk a beautiful young lady into ending her life and becoming a dark angel, thereby remaining young and beautiful forever. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think:
Revenge in a woman this talented is indeed a beautiful thing. He could see she was getting nervous. “Just listen to me a bit more, Audray, and then I’m going to make you a proposition this one time and this one time only. You don’t even have to tell me your decision tonight. You can take a day or two.” The waiter stopped by. Josh ordered two more Absinthes. “Do I have the option to say no? I mean, really no?” “Absolutely. But I won’t ask you again.” “But it will cost me either way, right?” “You’re safe with me. I’ll not let any harm come to you. If you say no, nothing changes, really.” He hesitated to add, “Scout’s honor.” He held up his palm. “Oh, that’s just wrong. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Josh smiled and shook his head. “You have a wonderful future with your surgeon. Well, I have another kind of surgery in mind, one of a more permanent nature. What if I were to offer you the chance to be young and look like you do now for the rest of your life? No surgeries, no boring workouts. Young forever. Making love forever in that gorgeous body of yours?” “How could you do that?” “Let’s not talk about how it is done. Let’s talk about if we can do it. If I could offer you that, would you take it?” “What would it cost?” “The cost is minimal, but free in terms of dollars and cents. We’ll discuss it. Would this be something you would want to do? Be young forever? Twenty-five years old and gorgeous forever? Unlimited sex. No sickness. No sagging. No surgeries to make you look like a freak at sixty? No breast cancer, cholesterol problems, hypertension, stroke…no diapers when you’re eighty-five? Any of this attractive to you, hmmmm?” The waiter delivered their second round of Absinthe. Josh poured water over the sugar cubes again in slow motion. Audray slipped in a second cube before he finished pouring. He gestured to her to drink up. Audray reached for her glass, downing it in one gulp. She didn’t flinch this time. Josh could see Audray was thinking about all of it, mulling over the pictures he painted. Her eyes fluttered to the sides and slightly upward, occasionally revealing a tiny line or two at the bridge of her nose. He was getting aroused watching her struggle to make sense of it. He breathed long, slow and deep, giving her a little help. He could smell her fear. He felt victory close at hand. “God, you’re beautiful.” He meant it. “Knowing you, there’s a catch.” “Yes. One teeny tiny one.” He held up his thumb and forefinger showing just how small. “And that would be?” “You have to kill yourself.”

Writing about Dark Angels

I have a thing for dark angels, brooding, sensuous, mostly males but some females, on a collision course with their own nature and against most forms of authority. As in all my stories, the basic theme is: Love heals in the gardens of the heart. I believe in the power of redemption through true love, that in loving another it brings out the very best in ourselves. True strength is measured in strength of character. Believing in something outside ourselves, whether it be spiritual or of this world, is the highest calling. I love to write stories about how people discover miraculous gifts within themselves to overcome impossible odds.