I'm proud to announce that my next novel in the Nymph Series, Winter Swans, has been released! I couldn't be more excited. I know you are going to love this book!I had so much fun writing this--including a trip to a casino and several nights spent playing poker (just so I could get into character, I swear)! This book is a unique light paranormal romance* that doesn't follow the cliché tropes of romance and instead merges with the world of high-stakes poker and the underbelly of Las Vegas. If you like the Italian Job, or any mob movie, you will enjoy this book. I tried to create a novel that would not only become a favorite to any romance reader, but to anyone who loves quick, witty, and out-of-the-box fiction!*What do I mean by light paranormal romance?That is a great question and will likely get it's own post, but simply I like to novels that delve into the paranormal/magical world while still staying planted in reality. I want you to read the book and believe that even thought nymphs are mythological creatures, they are just like the girl next door, your friend, or your sister. Nymphs are just like the rest of us! And who knows, maybe they ARE real!Here is a quick peek into Winter Swans: 
Excerpt:
Chapter One
The chapel of the funeral home was filled with familiar faces, each one drawn into a somber expression as they wandered past Harper Cygnini’s sister’s casket. A blonde nymph laid a single crystal swan inside the box, carefully placing the bird by the hundreds of others. The bird sat with its wings touching those next to it, looking as if they would come alive and fly Jenna to the realm of the gods.Harper stepped to the head of the casket and shook hands as people passed by, never looking her in the eyes. There were no words to express the sadness which filled the room. This didn’t happen. Nymphs rarely died.She dabbed at her stinging eyes. She had cried so much in the last week it came as a shock to her there were any tears left to be shed. Her heart wasn’t merely broken—no, the pain ran much deeper—it was almost as if she had died as well. Maybe she should have—the gods knew she deserved to be struck down. If she had just been more involved with her sister, if she had paid more attention, perhaps this would have never happened. She could have stopped her sister from being kidnapped. She would have noticed that Jenna had been missing. Instead Harper had merely gotten the call that Jenna’s body had been found frozen in a snow bank on some mountain.The only comfort she could find was the men responsible had been incarcerated and awaited trial in Montana. They would pay for their atrocious crimes.The only man in the room, Beau Morris, sat next to his fiancé, Ariadne Papadakis, the leader of the Sisterhood of Epione. Ariadne, noticing Harper’s gaze, dipped her head in a humble tribute to Jenna. Harper recognized a few of the other women within the room as mustang, snake, and swan-shifters. It was easy to tell them from the non-supernatural attendees as, even in mourning, the nymphs were perfectly beautiful—unscathed by time and the ravages of living.The same couldn’t be said of Harper, but she didn’t care. She glanced down at her black dress. She couldn’t remember putting it on or doing her hair, but what did it matter? Even as a demigod life was short and filled with pain. What difference did her appearance really make—it was like so many other unimportant things that both humans and nymphs seemed to deem worthwhile. She couldn’t strike the impious thought that life was only some god’s sick joke—they merely sat up in the heavens playing around with everyone’s lives, striking down those who displeased them and testing to see how much pain those that remained could withstand.A hand touched her shoulder, making her jerk to attention.“Harper?” a redheaded woman asked. She was beautiful and clearly a nymph, but she didn’t have the same youthful, healthy glow of the others that filled the room. Instead her face was thin and her eyes tired.“Yes. Thank you for coming to show your respect,” she answered robotically as she readied herself for the onslaught of well-deserved but undesired condolences.“I’m Carey Jackson, a friend… I mean I was a friend of your sister.”The words pierced Harper’s armor and drove straight to her heart. The tears stung her tired eyes. She could only nod, or any control she had would be lost.Carey dropped her hand from Harper’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but your sister was my landlord and, well, she promised she would help me. She owed me a favor. And now I don’t have anyone to turn to, except you.” (Continued)Released October 7, 2013:Winter SwansSeries: The Nymph SeriesBook 3 Book 1: The Nymph’s Labyrinth Book 2: Montana MustangsPublisher: Crimson RomancePurchase Links: ITunes | Barnes and Noble | Amazon | KoboPages: 300Blurb: A curse that forbids her to love…A child that he must accept… And a battle that could get them killed…After the death of his troubled ex-wife, the professional poker player, Chance Landon, finds out he is the father of a strange girl who carries even stranger secrets.Swan-shifting nymph, Harper Cygnini, is a driven by the need to succeed in her professional life. When she meets Chance and his daughter, it becomes only too clear that there are things missing in her life—feelings and needs laid dormant after the mistakes of her past.When Chance makes a choice that puts them all in danger, Harper must choose between her job and her heart. Chance may be the gambler, but should she risk making the same mistakes and pinning her hopes on a future that may cost Chance his life and his daughter—or is that one bet she is unwilling to take?Please feel free to leave comments/questions below! Happy Reading!
6. Edit, Edit, Edit... Let the book sit for a few months. Come back and edit again. If you are ever bored when you are writing, your readers will be bored when reading. Stop. Tear the section from your book and start over. Once you do this, you will have the strength of knowing this is the best book you can write at this point in your writing adventure.5. Never stop learning. The publishing landscape alters like brittle frost on a cold spring morning. One day something that was tried and true will fail and something you thought was crazy may be the industry standard.4. Always be kind to other authors (and people in general). This is a tough one, I know. There are times when you will face down the reader/editor/agent/author who will feel it is necessary to tell you exactly why/how you smell like dirty socks. Force your body to smile. Thank them for their time in letting you know their thoughts. Then take what you can from their comments and forget the rest. Under this rule, I also want to add if you help another writer do so in with a spirit of support and not competition. Your words will come back to haunt you if you let selfish motivations control your mouth (or typing fingers).3. Thank the people who work with you. It takes an army to be successful. You need to appreciate the time people take out of their lives to mention you, publish your books, promote you, and read your words. It only takes a second to make a good impression and graciously appreciate what others do for you. *Insert the Golden Rule Here* :)2. Remember that you are an entertainer at the most basic of level. Make your reader feel. Make them want more. This doesn't mean they have to love your characters, but they should feel the overwhelming need to keep reading. You achieve this by digging deeper. Delve into your emotions, search your soul, and learn how others may react differently then you. Even more simply, be empathetic to other personalities and use what you learn to strengthen your writing.1. Write for yourself. Write the story that keeps you up at night. If you write for yourself, regardless of what may come, you will be a success, you have succeeded in meeting your goals. In being an author, just like in life, there will always be someone who will be doing better than you. Don't try to keep up with the Joneses or the Koontzes. You will never be happy if you try to compete. You must find happiness within yourself and your work. If you can do this, you were meant to be an author.