Samhain Publishing

I need motivation and inspiration…far more than I expect my friends and family to provide. I have sworn off bugging them with questions like, “Do you think I’m a good writer? Did you really like my last book, or are you just saying so to be nice? I mean, did you really, really like it? Really? Was it better than the one before? Should I do another in this series, or move on to something completely different? Can I write something completely different? What if it sucks? What if I suck, and never sell anything ever again?”

Funny, but they also seem to be less than thrilled with the latest industry news, looking at me blankly when I say. “Publisher X just got bought out by Publisher Y, which means a major restructuring. And Publisher Z has announced a twenty-percent decrease in new book releases next year…do you know what that means? And the editor I just submitted to quit. What happens to my submission? Should I call? Re-submit? Crawl into a cave and never write again?”

I’ve learned that if I am to survive in this business, I need to be my own support team. Not that the special people in my life don’t care—they do—but they have their own wishes and dreams to pursue, and can’t focus on me twenty-four-seven. So I constantly read, and re-read, books about writing and creativity. Most are filled with fabulous quotes and inspirational sayings in the margins, along with the experience and stories of other successful artists.

Here are a few of my favorites:

•Rejection, Romance and Royalties: The Wacky World of a Working Writer by Laura Resnick. Funny, wry, and full of hard-core common sense, this book is a compilation of articles Laura wrote for various venues.
•On Writing by Stephen King. Where else can you get lessons on writing, getting published, and cursing in one book? It also contains a biography of King, whose life reads almost like one of his novels.
•The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Person’s Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel. More of a spirituality based book about the artists search for meaning.
•Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass. Excellent information on the various aspects of crafting a novel from characterization to plotting.
•The First Five Pages: A Writer’s Guide to Staying out of the Rejection Pile by Noah Lukeman. Excellent for new and beginning authors. Has information on basic dialog, active vs. passive writing, sentence structure and plot.
•The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. The classic that got me through the very first book I published.

I am always on the search for new craft books to read. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Good writing. Good luck. And peace and prosperity for you in the coming year.

Gia Dawn

Book IV of my Demons of Dunmore series releases today.

Love is mightier than the sword…

Sir Graham Dunmore is looking forward to competing in his first summer tournament—until he gets saddled with babysitting a prince in disguise, three fairy-godmothers he would much rather see fly back to where they came from, and a woman for a squire. Gone for years, Jiliana is now back in Westmyre, older, colder, with a lethal fighting skill that leaves him both impressed and intrigued.

Jili doesn’t recognize this sleek, well-trained man as the awkward friend from her youth. But seeing Graham again brings back painful memories of a brutal past. One that forces her to live a life of tight control, lest one slip unleash a deadly monster capable of hurting everyone in her path.

Yet as Graham patiently teaches her the arts of love, Jili has a glimmer of hope that she can finally control the killer that lurks inside her—until a ninja assassin begins to stalk the tournament.

With a heavy heart, she realizes Graham is going to need every skill she possesses to protect the prince—the very skills that could tear them apart forever.

Warning: This title contains cranky fairies, a gorgeous hero, and a heroine who just about kicks his ass…plus really sizzling sex told in naughty language.

Check it out, at Samhain Publishing , and enjoy this exclusive excerpt!

After seeing Graham settled as best she could, Jiliana walked to a nearby field and faced the rising sun, letting her breath slow and her mind still. It would be a glorious day, she thought, watching the light sneak up to chase away the dark. She frowned, the peace she sought so desperately vanishing along with the twinkling of the stars.

The sight of the youth’s mutilated body refused to be pushed away. It had been a far from pleasant death for one so very young. Not that she hadn’t seen more than her share of death, in all its many guises. The masters taught that wisdom came from acceptance, but she often wondered if acceptance was just another word for apathy. A way to excuse one’s actions and pretend it was necessary as she had done on more than one occasion. Could you be so detached from life you lost sight of its greater meaning?

The voice of her teacher whispered in amusement. “One must learn to accept the unacceptable. Change cannot be avoided or refused. Only in this truth can one hope to find freedom.”

She stood, shaking her doubts aside. She would find no peace today.

Better to work the body than let the mind take over. She assumed the proper stance and began the first movement, resting her weight on her back leg while bending the other and touching the point of her toe on the ground.

“What are you doing?” She jumped at Graham’s husky voice, her frustration rising as her calmness was again disrupted.

“It’s called a kata.” She glowered up at him, refusing to be pacified by how adorable he looked. His hair stuck out in all directions and he yawned, scratching his armpits.
Graham circled a finger in the air. “Show me.”

To her utter chagrin, Jiliana became suddenly shy under the scrutiny of his sharp blue eyes. But if he truly wanted to learn, she was obligated to teach him. This was how it had always been.

She assumed her earlier position. “Each posture is a strike or blow, performed slowly with the utmost precision and concentration.” She shifted her weight to her front leg, sweeping her arms across her body as she turned to face the other direction. She brought her hands up and clawed her fingers. “Tiger.”

Graham copied her, surprising her again with the grace of his movements.
“Very good,” she told him, taking a large step forward to crouch close to the ground. Her fingers touched into a pointed strike. “Snake.”

Graham said nothing as he mimicked her once more. Jiliana stood, her hands held high with the fingers pointing down. “Crane.”

For long moments they moved silently together; teacher and student, master and squire. Her earlier restlessness calmed as the joy of the kata took over. Graham proved a quick study, and when they had finished, he looked at her with a new appreciation.

“Do you do this every day?”

“Yes.”

“And you will teach me?”

She placed her palms together and gave him an assessing look. “Once the training has begun, you must be willing to follow it through to the end. The student and master both have obligations.”

He nodded, moving close to caress her cheek. His grin could have made the devil blush. “Shall we consider it an even trade?” She felt her skin prickle when he ran his tongue across his teeth and pulled her hard against him. The mood between them grew heavy with lush and sinful needs.

I got my hair cut for the big Romantic Times Convention next week. It sucks, no doubt about it. Honestly, I don’t know why I felt the need to change my style, I had a perfectly good cut. I could roll it into a cute bob, or leave it curly if I wanted. On bad hair days I could pin it up—I was going for that Mrs. Lovett look in Sweeny Todd, just a couple of more inches and I could have had it down.

But I wanted something new, different, hip and chic. Something that says I am a happening, with it, kind of menopausal old lady. In actuality, I look more like Little Orphan Annie’s mother, my frizzy red corkscrew curls a reminder of the bad perms of the seventies—yeah, I was around then, and old enough to have a perm.

Why is it that I had planned to lose 30 pounds, take ten years worth of wrinkles off my face, and blossom into a fabulous woman of indeterminate age in just 7 days? I saw Priscilla Presley on Dancing with the Stars. She scared me. She’s had so much work she could barely talk, her cheeks didn’t move a bit when she tried to say something, and any semblance of a smile was right out. The stuff nightmares are made of.

Sigh. But is aging gracefully an option? I remember the Dove commercials of a few years ago, one had a beautiful grey-haired lady, and I thought she looked just wonderful for a woman in her fifties…then I read that she was just forty-five. Not good to be thought of as a decade older, even if the word beautiful was included.

Which is why I appreciate the anonymity of writing. In my mind, in front of my computer screen, I can be as glorious as I imagine, and if I don’t have the light on or get any glare, not even the glimmer of my true self breaks in to upset my musings. No one ever knows if I don’t have on my make-up, or if I am wearing my baggiest sweats, the ones I bought two sizes too big, just because I liked the extra belly room.

But I am still faced with the problem of my hair. I can make the style work, with a lot of hairspray and two different curling irons. I will survive, and it will grow, and maybe, in a few more years, I’ll get that Mrs. Lovett look. There was an insane sort of elegance to the mess…and I know she never once worried that the rain would make it frizzier.

Gia

Is finally here. I love love love this story and am so happy it is now available. This is the story of Dunmore brother number two, Allard. This was a difficult book for me to write. It took ages and ages—I finished two novellas in between—and both my father and a very dear friend passed while the book was still in progress.
Life happens…you learn to write through everything.

I went over this plot so many times, even my husband was tired of hearing about it…lolol…you know you have totally overthought your work when you end with the same basic story line you started with—after you changed it seven or eight times in the middle.

But, as a famous playwrite once said, “all’s well that ends well” and Allard’s tale ends well indeed. You can read en excerpt at my author page here at Samhain: www.samhainpublishing.com/authors/gia-dawn or read a spicier tidbit at my website: www.giadawn.com

My current work in progress, next in the Demons of Dunmore series, has a distinctly oriental flavor. The heroine has studied the arts of war in the east for many years.

As I have researched eastern culture, I have come across some utterly beautiful poetry. Traditional Japanese poetry is called waka. It literally means Japanese poem. Waka has no concept of rhyme, in fact certain arrangements of rhyme (even accidental) are considered dire faults in traditional Japanese poetry.

There is little concept of line…instead waka has the unit, or phrase, which is often turned into line when the poem is translated into western languages.

In ancient times it was common for writers to exchange waka instead of prose…especially between lovers. A famous example of this is found in the book Hannibal Rising, by Thomas Harris. The exchange takes place between a young Hannibal Lector and the Japanese aunt he has fallen in love with:

~Women pick up surveillance faster than men do, as part of their survival skills, and they at once recognize desire. They also recognize its absence. She felt the change in him. Something was missing behind his eyes.

The words of her ancestor Murasaki Shikibu came to her and she said them:

“The troubled waters
Are frozen fast.
Under Clear Heaven
Moonlight and shadow
Ebb and flow.”

Hannibal made Prince Genji’s classic reply:

“The memories of long love
Gather like drifting snow.
Poignant as the mandarin ducks
Who float side by side in sleep.”

“No,” Lady Murasaki said. “No. Now there is only ice. It’s gone. Is it not gone?”
“You are my favorite person in the world,” he said quite truthfully.
She inclined her head to him and left the room.~

A very emotional scene that gets to the heart of Lector’s character.

Let me share a few more waka that I find particularly lovely. Translated by Kenneth Rexroth, 1955:

I have always known
That at last I would
Take this road, but yesterday
I did not know that it would be today.
NARIHIRA (9th century)

Out in the marsh reeds
A bird cries out in sorrow,
As though it had recalled
Something better forgotten.
KI NO TSURAYUKI (10th century)

This life of ours would not cause you sorrow
if you thought of it as like
the mountain cherry blossoms
which bloom and fade in a day.
MURASAKI SHIKIBU (974-1031)

In the dusk the path
You used to come to me
Is overgrown and indistinguishable,
Except for the spider webs
That hang across it
Like threads of sorrow.
IZUMI SHIKIBU (11th century)

Not speaking of the way,
Not thinking of what comes after,
Not questioning name or fame,
Here, loving love,
You and I look at each other.
YOSANO AKIKO (modern)

I hope you have enjoyed. Gia

I am gonna wow you all with a picture of my beautiful cover by Anne Cain….LOLOL

Enjoy a couple of my favorite lines from A Fairy Special Gift, and check out the rest of the Love & Lore Anthology available in both print and electronic format.

“Grabbing her sketchbook, Meara funneled her fury into her work. The drawing took shape with little effort on her part, and in less than an hour she was looking happily at her latest creation. A tiger-striped cat sat licking one paw, a fairy wing sticking out of its mouth. The other paw held a struggling fairy in its out-stretched claws.
Meara wrote the caption in satisfied amusement. Fairies, you can’t eat just one.”

Send me a note at info@giadawn.com with Samhain Anniversary in the subject line to win a signed print version of the Love & Lore Anthology, or Lord Demon’s Delight.

If you include your snail mail address, I’ll send you some fun stuff, whether you win the book or not!

You can buy the print version of the Love & Lore anthology here:

http://samhainpublishing.com/print/love-and-lore-print

Gia

Are there daily rituals in your life that keep you on track? Do you have to have a hot bath every night before bed? Do you meditate on a daily basis, say your prayers, have chocolate and coffee in the afternoon?
Most of us are creatures of habit. I read somewhere that nearly 90% of everything we do is habit. We get locked into a routine, stuck in a rut, wonder in fear what’s waiting outside the box.
Not that this is all bad. Our daily habits give our lives continuity and flow. They comfort us when the going gets tough, and ground us in the midst of chaos.
Nothing like that lucky shirt to cheer on a game, or that special cup we have to use everyday. (Mine is a metal thermous I got on sale at Wally world. It got me through an endless stream of too hot days this summer while having more hot flashes than I dreamed were humanly possible. They say the average woman at my stage in life has five to ten a day….LOLOL I had more than that in a single hour. Cross my heart, honest. Did I mention growing old sucks?)
But I digress…another sign I am becoming my mother. How did that happen when I fought so hard against it?
Okay, Okay…back to my favorite habits.
I have to have a bath before I settle down to write. It seperates my writing day from all the other stuff I have to do. Tells my creative brain to get in gear. I’ve come up with quite a few good ideas soaking in the tub.
I start my day the same and end my day the same. Yes, it gets boring on occasion, and yes, there are times I fight to change it.
But more often than not, with my husband and children safely home both before and after they have ventured out into the world, I count my blessings.

Yeah, Lady Strumpet, my second published work releases today! This is the story of Jane—the lovely dancer in Lord Demon’s Delight, and the unusual man who finally wins her heart.

Snapdragon, Pansy and Rose are back and up to their usual grumblings—while Jessaline and Llewellyn continue to make mad passionate love.

So lets have a giveaway! Send me an e-mail at info@giadawn.com Put Lady Strumpet in the subject line, and I will draw a name tonight at midnight EST to win a free download.

Simple enough. Come celebrate with me.
Thanks so much. Gia

I am spending the weekend with my Sorority sisters from college…you do not want to know how long ago that was. LOL We have started to get together every year, spend the weekend, share food, successes and disappointments.

Are we the same women we were over twenty years ago? No. We have married and divorced, had children and lost them, moved, changed careers, turned grey, gained weight, laughed not enough, cried too much, and we all show the patterns of our lives on our faces.

Yet we are still friends. On some level the bonds we made so very many years ago have held through the years, grown stronger as we realize that friendships formed when young imprint deeply in our spirits and allow us to remember when the world was much newer and we were filled with our dreams and hopes and fears.

The truth is, I love them more now than I ever did. There is a quiet joy to the stolen moments of the days…the small break from our daily routine of work and family and obligations.

We can take down the mirrors that reflect our age and pretend we are giggling college co-eds, talk about the hottest men and newest books, sing, listen to someone play guitar softly in the night, and hope that the coming year finds us safe and well and whole.

I cry when I leave, but am never certain if the tears are truly of sorrow, or a softly silent happiness that fills the days until we meet again.

Nostalgia is a bittersweet emotion. Gia

This was another author’s day to post, but in her part of the world, the electricity just wasn’t co-operating. She sent out a message for help.

So here I am, filling in. I didn’t have a great topic in mind, but one sure came up fast. How on earth can we make it without a little help from our friends?

Years ago at a writer’s conference I heard a well-known author moan “why should we train our replacements”? Granted the sentiment does have merit—if your world is filled with scarcity and competition.

My world isn’t. In my world I have been blessed to be associated with some of the most supportive, giving, and amazingly talented authors and friends I have ever met. Period.

Their talent both on and off the page boggles the mind, their energy is amazing, and their desire to spend endless hours in tasks that benefit other authors is truly cool!

So, this is a great big thank you everyone out there who has taken the time to help out a friend.

However you have done it, whoever you have done it for, know your efforts are appreciated.

Thanks from all of us who have benefited from your efforts.