Book four Links

I've written book four in the third person. Due to the success of book one and two, I'm rewriting it to first person. Since I've written this book two years ago I'm revamping the story to fit the overall plot of series. I'm also writing a novella on Red's early life, which is a lot of fun. I'm not sure when I'll be done with that. It seems to be taking longer to write it due to the series. I have other stories in the works I'd like to get out there but they too have taken a back seat to my Sanctuary novels. 

Gravity Available now on Smashwords

Gravity: A Sanctuary Novel book Two is out on Smashwords, my distributor site!

Re-edit and updating

I'm in the process of reediting Pull. The major change is the POV (point if view). I'm changing it from third person to first person. 

 Gravity: book two cover is almost done. I will be releasing the ebook very soon. You can read the first chapters on Wattpad. 

Exposure

Characters in the up coming ebook Gravity are more than imaginary people in my story. I realized while writing the Sanctuary series, I've dumped my entire psyche into them; revealing more than I'm used to unveiling in reality.
Without spoiling too much, I've learned that Alex is my ego, Dash is my curiosity, Gabriel is my disturbance, Grey is my fear and Violet is my body. Red is very complex. He's the first and oldest of all my characters. He's been with me since I could day dream. I imagined him as a dark shadow following me as a child and as I grew up I gave him a face. He was always the main character's love interests in my fantasies.  One day I decided to write them down just like Red does with his journals. The first scene I wrote was the one in Pull where Violet meets Red in her dreams. I was Violet when I fantazied that scene (many times) but I often wondered what part of me was I meeting. Red is very complex because I can't identify what he stands for. 

Wattpad

I'm on Wattpad. Check out my works in progress. Works that may never see the light of day otherwise. I uploaded The Witch of the Woods a start of a story I've been working on for a while. I'm excited to share a part of it.
I'll be uploading Gravity: A Sanctuary Novel (Book 2) in parts on Wattpad first, so if you can't wait for the ebook, read it on Wattpad as I write and edit. One big difference from book 1 to book 2 is the POV change. I've change the book 2 to first person. I will eventually release a first person Pull.
You can go to my Wattpad profile HERE.

Red's Profile

Via Krista Butterfield

Name:  James Adam

Nickname: Red

Name meaning:

James: Supplanter

Adam: Son of man, Earth, Mankind, "Adam" for being the "first" hybrid in the Sanctuary Novels

Red: color of his aura; nicknamed by Violet when she saw him for the first time as a child (Violet sees aura)

Birthday: March 23, 1879

Zodiac Sign:  Aries

Chinese Zodiac: Hare

Significant Other(s): Violet

Family:

Mother: Mary Adam

Father: Unknown* unpublished material 

Siblings: None

Aunt: Pearl Adam

Uncle: Henry Adam (Mary's brother)

Physical characters: Black hair, born with blue eyes; described as having "kaleidoscope eyes" (turns colors, flashes white); turns blue when he’s calm or emotional; Everlasting youth; “He looks like his father"; handsome; 6' tall; no tattoos or piercings; Average build (fit); Black clothes, leather jacket, Converse sneakers; Crow transformation.

Aura color(s): Red

Personality: Stubborn; Stresses over Guardian work; Lonesome; Introvert; Kind; Needs to know the answers; Gentle; Good listener; Observant; Easily Obsesses.

Habits/mannerisms/ticks: None.

Abilities/powers: Telepath; Aura can push and pull other auras; when touched by Violet, he's overwhelmed with human emotions that override the logical Guardian mind; bends into the dark/shadows; stealthy; transforms into a black crow; utilizes possibility spheres to foresee future possibilities; matter/energy manipulation; mind manipulation; dreamscape manipulation.

Esoteric symbols: Black; Crow; Storms; Shadows; Demon.

Item(s) of Sentimental Value: Uncle Henry's pocket watch; Mary Adam's music box; Thomas Corvus Clearwater's hand-carved box; Guardian possibility spheres; his leather bound journals; The Sanctuary.

Hobbies: Journal writing; Studied and enjoyed Architectural Design as a young man; Tinkering.

Work: Guardian (watches over hybrids); Travel (Guardian duty); Worked at the Metropolitan newspaper for his Uncle.

Talents: Good with his hands; Quick learner; Absorbs information quickly; Photographic Memory.

Vices: Distraction; Lust; Jealousy; Stalking; Voyeurism.

Virtues: Chastity; Order; Sincerity; Loyalty; Insight; Wisdom; Silence; Courageous; Mercy; Resolution; Knowledge; Tranquility; Moderation; Temperance; Morality.

First time he enters the story: Pull: Book One-Prologue- Visits Violet as a little girl.

Second time he enters story:  Chapter one-comes home from tracking hybrids and writes in his journal.

Hero’s sacrifice: Loving Violet/ provides others for Violet to love.

Principled hero: He withholds his love from Violet (begins in book 2) he’s following the Guardian's natural law; He's against Dash’s "Impossible" ideas.

Sympathetic Hero: Forgives Grey (continuous); His Guardianship is hard; He wants to be with Violet.

Likeability: Generous provider; Moral to a point; Merciful, even to the worst of sinners.

Likes: Solitude after a hard days work; Writing; Watching Violet; Teaching Hybrids about their abilities.

Dislikes: Death; Incompletion of tasks/work; not knowing where Violet is at all times; knowing Violet is "with" someone else; Demons aka "Shadows", "Enities", "Aliens"; Breaking the natural laws of Guardianship.

Inner Journey: True love never dies; the impossible is possible.

 

 

 

 

 

*Spoiler: Hint: see dislikes

 

Free sample of Gravity's first chapter

Gabriel Black maneuvers quickly, keeping to the school walls like a rat trying to escape before he’s cornered. The memorization of the school’s alcoves, the bell timing between periods, avoiding the halls and stairwells that carry the most traffic are more than a way for an introvert to avoid people—they're survival tactics. He perfected the system to protect his personal space from being violated. Bumping into another person is a mistake his mind can’t afford, no matter what his body craves from such a clash. They will obsess over him if they’re too close for too long. They will lust after him if their shoulder grazes his. It doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or a girl—the monster inside has no preference.

Gabriel must take every precaution to keep from being noticed. Yet, his notorious black Ramones hoodie is just about all that people recognize. It helps to cover his black hair and obscure his face. There isn't a day where he's not wearing it. Blending into the background as a dark, blurry nobody in high school is not what a typical teenager wants to be remembered as.

Gabriel isn’t typical.

He has no choice but to bear the labels given to him and try to stay invisible or he’ll ruin someone's life.

He sits in the last row in homeroom just as he does in every class. He’s the first to enter the room and the last to leave when the bell rings. The hallway is a battleground of fleshy mines. Like a soldier, he must try to make it to the safety of the recess beside the water fountain before his body collides with another. Sometimes a quick overlapping of his personal space and another student is realized, but the classmates that feel his aura by accident, don’t see him. He swiftly disappears before an impression is made.

He takes the long route to study hall, making a quick stop at the boy’s bathroom where the last stall’s removable ceiling tiles keep some of his textbooks and supplies. His locker is unfortunately located in one of the main arteries of the school. Stashes like this are a preventative measure—no one's usually around.

The boy washing his hands doesn’t give him a second look and leaves quickly. No boy wants to be in the bathroom alone with the Ramones guy.

Gabriel’s the last to arrive in study hall. With his hands in his pockets and his hood up, he doesn’t look at anyone and sits in the back of class. There’s no one to worry about in back of him. He only has to worry about the other sides and how close they are to his vicinity. His acute awareness of his surroundings is as natural as breathing.

A slightly warming sensation heats his right arm, warning him—the kid next to him is a little too close. Gabriel slowly uses his feet to inconspicuously move the desk a few more inches back until the warmth leaves his skin.

The second bell rings and his hood falls back before Mr. Hopkins mentions it. He can never shake the anxious feeling of being unveiled like a museum exhibit, but he keeps his head low to avoid eye contact.

His textbook and homework are out. First period study hall is the only time to do it. If he doesn’t do it now then it will never get done. He reaches into his backpack for a pen and takes one from his supply of unopened pen boxes. He’s overly prepared because getting caught without a pen or textbook means he will have to borrow from someone else, or worse—he’d have to share. Going over one textbook between two students is like breathing one another’s breath before a kiss. It overwhelms the senses where the lesson doesn’t matter. For the other student, curiosity about Gabriel peaks. He doesn’t need that kind of attention. Being inches away from another is like teasing a starved vampire with a bleeding virgin. Touching will only lead to sinful actions. After class is over, an obscure area of the school would be occupied with perversions, Gabriel himself couldn’t foresee performing, but the monster inside hungers for it when it's prodded. Bodily cravings do not seize until quenched.

Once he didn't have a pen—fingers grazed—never again.

“Hey, Ramones!”

Gabriel’s green eyes lift off his paper and look up to the girl sitting in front of him. Her blue eye stare and she’s actually smiling.

Mr. Hopkins is grading papers and doesn’t pay any mind. Gabriel sets his eyes back down.

“You have a pen I can borrow?”

Without looking at her he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pen and hands it to her, but he lets the pen drop to the floor before her fingers invade the thin space between them. He doesn’t have to look at her to know what it looks like. Gabriel isn’t trying to be an asshole. He has no choice but to play the part.

Sorry. The simple word would Band-Aid the situation if he can only say it out loud, but that would mean he’ll have to talk to her. He’s not in the mood to start conversations that will draw attention. Making friends is impossible, so why would he even try.

She grabs the pen off the floor. “Um...thanks.” It sounds like her pretty smile is gone, but Gabriel doesn’t lift his eyes to confirm it.

Another glare prods him, taking his attention from the work that will pass the time in this God forsaken school. His eyes lift to see one of the infamous bullying goons that made a name for himself by ritualizing beating up of an individual target for a week. Gabriel has been under the radar for years, but now a drop of a pen has ensured an impending beat-down.

Fuck.

Gabriel mouth dries as Eric Anderson inauspicious smile curls. His followers turn in their seats to witness the stunned face of their next victim. Gabriel doesn’t give them the pleasure and leaves his stoic mask unchanged.

The clock on the wall confirms the elongated torture of the apprehensive atmosphere. Homework will have to wait. Planning to leave this school will prove to be most challenging. He’s witnessed Anderson and his crew parading the halls with their victim, carrying him off to God-knows-where to do God-knows-what. The idea of a group of boys setting him off makes him perspire. Being the center of attention, even for this moment, is causing his heart to race.

He habitually places his hood on his head. He will keep it on as long as Mr. Hopkins doesn’t notice.

The bell finally rings and the plan is in place.

Anderson’s minions rise from their desks slowly waiting for Eric’s signal.

Gabriel shoulders his backpack. The others move into position as he rises from his desk.

“Mr. Hopkins?” Gabriel hates being a pussy, but asking for a teachers help is the only option here. The band of assholes has him cornered.

“What is it Mr. Black?” Gabriel makes his way past the sneering teeth and fuming eyes.

He makes eye contact with Mr. Hopkins. The man just stares, as the gang gets closer.

“You have two minutes Mr. Black. I suggest you speak before you’re late for your next class. I’m not signing a late slip.”

He hears them approaching from behind. If they leave the room and wait for him, he’ll be caught outside.

"Well?" Mr. Hopkins brows lift.

Gabriel darts out the door and into the crowded halls. The clamor of desks and chairs behind him pumps fear into his veins. Grazing shoulders and knocking over students, sets his craving on high.

His hood peels back. Eric and the others are laughing. Everyone in the hall is looking at him.

“Where are you going, Ramones?”

“Do you ever wear anything else?”

“Yo! Get that kid!”

The halls are thinning; a sign that the second bell is about to ring.

He turns a corner and hides in a janitor's closet, he once used for fornicating.

The bell rings and screeching sneakers stop at the door. Gabriel holds the handle. One of the bullies rattles the doorknob, sending their energy trickling up Gabriel's arm like an electrical current.

“Emo boy! I know you’re in there.” One of them kicks the door. “Come out and take it like the faggot you are.”

The handle rattles and his grip tightens. He can’t let them in for their sake.

One of the teachers voices calls out their names. The shadows under the door leave except one.

“I’ll get you asshole. I’ll make you eat every single one of those psycho pills If I see your face again. You hear me?”

Eric’s shadow leaves and another approaches with clacking heels.

“Mr. Anderson, get back here!”

The female knocks.

“Hello? Who’s in there?” Gabriel lets go before he feels her energy. The door opens.

Light blinds him and a female figure stands before him.

Gabriel scurries away from the door, his back knocks into the shelves behind him, sending bathroom paper tumbling beside him. The teacher’s face stares down at him. Gabriel’s hands are shaking and his eyes are watering. What does it look like to her? He places his hood on. Don’t look at me.

“It’s okay. You can come out now, Mr. Black.”

POV

I've read my prologue for Pull hundreds of times and I love everything about it. My proof readers loved it and I have an idea why. It's in the first person point of view. The rest of the Sanctuary novels are in the third person except for the Prologue. I wanted it to stand out like a prologue should. Red is one of my main characters in Pull and I wanted to begin with him because everything began with him. First person allows you to be close to the character as a reader. There's intimacy there. Most novels are written in the first person, but the santuary novels are third person, subjective omniscient.  I write with a distance between the reader and the character in order to keep the voice of my three main characters. The reader will see all three points throughout the Pull. I'm not head hopping within the same sections. I choose a character and stick with them through that chapter so it transitions better. The problem I saw after writing most of the series was after my proof readers read Pull, I wanted to go back and rewrite the story in first person, but then I would have to choose one character or at least I feel I would have to. That's a lot of work. I'm still contemplating the idea like Stephenie Meyers did with Midnight Sun (Twilight in Edwards POV).

Read my self-published ebook Pull it's FREE on Amazon for Kindle, Barnes and Noble for Nook and Smashwords.

Excerpt from Gravity

 

"Into the tight rhythmic crowd of people, he watches her. Her closed eyes are just as beautiful as when they're open. Her shiny wavy hair captures the flashing lights like fireworks over water. Everyone around him is in their own trance, pushing into each other, rubbing against each other, sweating all over each other like one big organism swaying. The crowd takes her away like a message in a bottle, floating in the ocean of people. Gabriel surrenders his body as those around him compress and take him. Hands are raised in the air but he is still, wedged between singing voices and jumping rebellious bodies.

Gabriel squeezes his way, his personal space rule is already broken and now his aura flexes like wings. Buzzed and centered only on her, he pushes recklessly towards her, setting off auras around him. He doesn't feel them. He wants only her. His Violet."

 

I love music and so do my characters. Music basically breathed life into my work. The excerpt above is part of a scene was written before I had a story for book 2, Gravity. I wrote it because I've had this scene in my head forever. I've pictured over and over again with plenty of characters and with plenty of songs. I thought it would add to book 2 perfectly, but I had to pick the right character. The character has to be physical in some way because being at a concert can be a physical experience. There's dancing and dancing close and dancing even closer. There's bodies everywhere and your personal space is violated. The character I chose, Gabriel, can't have body contact due to his hybrid ability. He's the most physical of all my characters because he's so mindful of everyone's vicinity at all times. Touching is dangerous for this character so closeness is the one thing Gabriel craves. So put this person in a concert setting with some alcohol to top it off, throw in the girl he likes and see what happens.
Gravity : A Sanctuary Novel will be coming soon. Look for twitter updates via Twitter by following me @MandaMiga

Removed section of Gravity

I had written a prologue to Gravity, but it really didn't need it; it doesn't  better the story in any way that and my mom was into it. Jumping right into what feels like an entirely different story then what I left you with in Pull: Book One. SPOILER ALERT HERE if you didn't read Pull--> Violet was left on her own in the Sanctuary. Red and Grey don't come back. Removing this section all together before Gravity is released would hurt and it doesn't spoil anything.

Removed  prologue to Gravity:

 

I dream of them every night. I know it’s a dream because I wake to find I'm the only one in the cabin. I wake every morning to find the ceiling molding closing in above me. The room is shrinking—I'm sure of it. I used to have a closet. There's no closet. My window was bigger—I think. Five steps to the door—no—it's four today.

The living room is cold. The stone fireplace is colder. I stare at it for a moment. Maybe the black lumps of charred wood will rekindle, but they never do. The kitchen cabinets are always full. At least Red is still taking care of my stomach. I rub my belly. I'm never hungry, but I know I should eat something. I grab an apple off the counter. The bite is crisp, like it was picked off the tree yesterday. But Red didn't actually do that. Things just happen here in the Sanctuary. Apples appear, tomorrow maybe grapes or bananas. He provides too much in food. This assurance is not what I want. What I want is to be in his arms again.

I eat my apple and pretend he's just in his room. The idea of him watching helps. A false sense of him being near helps me get through my day. Pretending is natural when you're by yourself locked in a beautiful paradise with no one to share it with. Imagination is my only friend.

Outside of the cabin is not the same. Every day when the rain stops, I go outside to walk the perimeter of the field before it pours again. The gate is checked and it’s always locked. It’s never long before I'm drenched and I’m forced to run back to the cabin.

I know this means Red is upset. Grey had said the condition of the Sanctuary is a gauge for his mood.

I know he is hurting. I can feel it when I breathe. The air is thin as if Red is having this trouble himself.

I can't eat any more of the apple. I don't even want to swallow what's left in my mouth. Red would not be pleased to know I can't even eat an apple. I close my eyes a try and swallow. The image of Red folding his arms, tilting his head, "You have to eat, Violet."

I'm so weak I can fall asleep. I slump to the floor and drift off to dream the same dream of him. I can feel the beating of our hearts sync. I feel Red is at my side. But when I turn to see him he’s not there and yet, he’s in my peripheral vision. My aura detects he's near. I still feel he is with me when a feathery caress kisses my skin.

“Where are you?" The warm air breathes against my neck.

"Come home,” I ask him. Red never answers when I demand that. He’s just a black obscuration in the corner of my eye. He's a shadow once again.

Grey appears standing too far for me to reach. The distance is constant no matter how much I try to run to him. His black pea coat, pants and gloves appear to cover his entire body like a cocoon. His features are nothing like I remember. He's too dismal in my dreams; a stormy figure that sends a chill down my spine. His face is a splattered distortion with gray eyes. I think he wants his face erased from my memory. I try to retrieve it, but he won’t let me. I know the sweet part of him still exists. My heart is still with him. I know he's there within the dusky silhouette The other Grey is in the way of my Grey.

What have I done to him?

I remember in my dreams I express that I will never stop trying to release him from the burden that I beheld to him.

I know he's always reading me and he knows what I'm feeling even if my words don’t make it out of my mouth.

I miss him.

I love him.

Grey, I love you. I love you.

He communicates, but without a sound; it’s a simple discontenting glare every time. His silver eyes are sharp. Why do my thoughts anger him?

 

A Place Between Places

Once there was an angel named James with large black wings and colorful eyes. He watched over a magical girl on Earth. Over time he fell in love with her. One day the girl was drowning so James went down from heaven to save her. He brought her to his secret place between Heaven and Earth, a place between places, so that he can keep a close eye on her. The angel's friend, Ryan, who's angel wings shimmer in silver, showed the girl the beautiful place between places. Ryan fell in love with the girl and when James found out the girl loves Ryan back, his heart breaks. Both angels fight until Ryan falls from the place between places breaking his silver wings.

Pull is kind of like that. I'd continue but I'd only spoil the story.

 

Climax

What have I been doing? Writing of course! I've complete book two of the Sanctuary novels. It's taken me a while because I've been looking at houses. My husband and I finally found one we love, so we've moved out of our apartment and are now living with my in-laws. It's been stressful because we can't just buy the house, can you believe it? It's a short sale so the process is longer because there's more stuff than usual to approve. All I know is I want to move in and blast my music up to eleven! <--(This is Spinal Tap reference, just so you know).
I work retail incase you didn't know, so not only were we moving, but I have to prepare for Christmas at work right after Halloween. Just so you know, from Halloween to January... yes January is Christmas time in retail... it doesn't stop on December 24 people. So, I'm tired and I haven't written much.

My sister Jess had been proof reading and found one doosie of an error. I was always unsure about a certain scene near the end of Gravity. As a writer, every page seems to need work so my thoughts on that particular scene didn't seem to stand out. Jess had called me out on it and I had to agree. It was lacking where it was suppose to be most climactic. I failed. I went back to my writing desk and had to fix it. I was moving and it was Christmas time in retail so I was tired. I hadn't even downloaded music in weeks. I was just exhausted. Christmas is now almost over and I finally sorted out that last scene. I'm waiting to hear back from my mom and Jess. I have my fingers crossed. I'm pretty sure they'll like it.

Bulking the book

Life happens while writing book two of my Sanctuary series. Between the gallstones, laziness, being removed from my current position at work to a less pleasing one, and excessive manga reading, I've layed out the order of events I've written for book Two. Like needing dough, I smoothed out the lumps and bumps and cut out unnecessaries but i know I'm not done. I'm far from it, but it doesn't mean I'll be doing it forever. My story is there. It's solid. It just needs filling. The word count is low and my chapters need definition; diving lines from beginning to end. The POV (point of view is scattered. My tense is wrong. I have alot to do. Bulking my book takes layer after layer of reading and re-reading over and over and over.... you get the idea. When the fuels there, it's no problem. When the fuels low, my Nook HD+ comes out for mangahere reading, my bottom hits the sofa and I chow on Goldfish crackers for the evening.  I like to call it studying because when I read or watch movies I try to apply emotions, plots, taboos and other interesting things to my series.
I've written today for eight hours today and I'm going on break to study before I'm to tired for my day job.

Pull: A Sanctuary Novel book one is NOW AVAILABLE at Smashwords

I love crows. Today there were alot of squawking ones. At one point four of them circled above me. There was an extremely loud one that demanded my attention when I went for a walk with my mom. Funny enough the crow was in an evergreen right in front of a house I was admiring, hoping to one day live in one day. Maybe these crows were trying to tell me something. Maybe there just being crows. My protagonist turns into a crow and of course when I see them I can't help but think about Red. So I decided today was the day I'd upload my book into Smashwords to get the ball rolling. You can check it out here. Also my author profile here.
I'll have the ebook available on Barnes& Noble, Sony, Kobo, and the iBookstore soon!

Mission Ebook Cover Completed

I got my ebook cover created. It doesn't look like some cheap cover neither. I held a contest at 99designs.com as suggested a blog comment. What was cool about the experience is I held a contest and the designers submit art according to my "design brief". At first I was waiting and getting nervous because I wasn't getting very many designs but then after two days all these professional looking designs pop up. I get to give the designers feed back, like "I hate this font" or "can you make the crow's eyes blue." These designers take the feedback and make multiples of designs. I ended up with 162 designs to choose from. the last three days you pick the finalists. I picked two. Of course it was the hardest decision but I had to keep in mind my story and my characters, not just based on "how pretty" the cover was.

Here it is! The cover to my first ebook in the Sanctuary series. I awarded the finalist Soheil Toosi. I hope to work with him on my next cover. The great part is I now have the copyrights to this image. Hooray!
My protagonist, Red is a crow but not an ordinary crow. His eyes are blue and he emminates a red aura. He's torn in "Pull", (his heart and mind fight), he hurting and this cover I feel best shows this. The contrast to me is important; the extreme light and the dark because like the cover, Red has a light side and a dark side. If you look closely, there's red heart to his chest because Red has a heart even though this "stylistic", "scary", "weak" crow looks out of the ordinary; this character knows love.
As an ebook the cover must stand out among other's so the negative space around Red (the crow) and the contrast between light and dark were a must. On a tablet device, this image is detailed and will add to the reading experience. This ebook will be selling on Barnes & Noble, Amazon and the iBookstork just to mention the major retailers. The ebook will launch as soon as I'm done formatting my files and pass those retailer standards. Notification of this will be tweeted and posted here on this Blog.

 

Is there a foggy area between YA and adult fiction, ' cause that's where my novel is?

The teen genre is tricky because it's always changing. Since the 70's taboos like drugs, sex, rape, incest are not instant rejections when it comes to YA fiction. In  fact, YA fiction has gained a broader audience with adult women. Mom's are reading their daughters books.  Books like Harry Potter, Twilight, Hunger Games, City of Bones and Beautiful Creatures are series read by children and adults alike, this may have paved a way for each of these to become movies as well. But what makes a story YA?
For my book I've been asking this question since my plot came together. Who is my audience?
My answer every time to that question was people like me. I read YA and I'm thirty-four year old female. But does my story meet the criteria for a YA novel?

My protagonist isn't a teen, he's twenty-three which already breaks a YA rule.  Teen novels have teen protagonists. My protagonist has a relationship with a young girl. (statutory rape) My book takes place when the protagonists love interests is sixteen. there's suppressive feelings involved between them another love interest( another adult).

Questionable content:
there's swear words. Fuck shouldn't mean sex though, oops!
the relationship with the girl is between a sixteen year old and two twenty three year old. A love triangle. Naughty!
there's no sex but there are sexual situations. Still graphic is bad I guess.
there is hinting that the protagonist had feeling for the girl when she was just a child, but there maybe indication of sexual attraction depending on the readers perception. That I understand is a No No. I get that but again I'm vague where it maybe safe to read. Hopefully my beta readers will see that clearly. Pedophiles,hmm.
attempted rape by a boyfriend.

I've read that I may have a teen crossover, a novel that stretches over to adult fiction. I'm still not 100% on that definition. YA's boarders are so vague.

I do know that I intend make my series in ebooks and the genres are set by the author, not an agent telling you, you can' t have the word "fuck" meaning sex in a YA novel.  There's more control on my part what I think my book is. I won't have to cut away "the good stuff" just so my audience won't be offended. The thing is teens want this. Adults shopping for YA want this. I want this!

To lazy to come up with a good title

It's the middle of winter and I find myself watching Netflix, reading, playing apps on my devices r just surfing the Internet because I just don't feel like doing anything else. As a writer I feel like I'm wasting valuable time but a writer needs to stop and take a coffee break--even if the coffee break seems lasts weeks with minimal writing and brain storming on your part. You need to rest from your work. Don't feel bad. Time away from your work proves to be good for you and your writing.  You can wear yourself out quickly, especially when your trying to write your material and you are not ready to write it. There's nothing like a refreshed mind to rev the imagination.
I reviewed a piece of writing I had done a while back. I remember it was I pushed myself too hard to finish it only to rewrite the whole thing. Not only should I have rested my brain, but it was a complete waste of time. Time I could have had to recuperate. So if you're feeling you need a break, take it. Winter time is my lazy time. I found that out from tracking my work by date. I wrote the most in spring when my energy up and summer when it's too hot to go outside. So hibernate for as while if you need to, you might find inspiration in a movie but please, rest when you're tired.

My had my own 50 Shades made and ready to go at 14 year-old

Split by MugenMusouka at Deviantart.com

I used to go to bed with the same fantasy playing in my head. My eyes affixed to a small clipping of the hottest boy in Tiger Beat or Bop magazine. I'd memorized his cute face and picture him in school, talking to me, holding my hand, taking me to a dance or kissing me. Soon my little fantasies took on a whole story with a plot and he was the star and he was his starlet.
I found myself going back to one fantasy over and over. The Victorian setting was perfect for my ideal guy to own a mansion and to employ me as his maid. I know this is generic but I was young. Maids are good for many things, aren't they?
When I got older, there was more going on in my story than kissing and dusting my "master's" vases. He had a mansion and a lot of rooms, so naturally a teenage girl's mind is hormonally charged with ideas seen in movies, sex scenes in books or information heard from her best friend about third base.
I would have to confess my imagination at a young age was "ripe" and would rival the adopted lie that women aren't nearly as perverted as men. I, for one, blame my genetics. Instilled in me is some of the most obscene things and lucky for most people they do not see that when they look at my "sweet" face.
In my fantasies I was irresistible and whoever I was infatuated with at the time would play the part of my "master"; River Phoenix, Leonardo DiCaprio, my crush in school there was a lot of those. The list goes on ; singers, actors, real people. Until my man's face started to take a specific form and specific characteristics stuck. He ended up with pitch-black hair because he's dark and mysterious, of course. Big sapphire eyes to melt my insides to mush. They would seemingly glow in the dark as he would watch me perform my "duties", making his bed wink*. His eyes were the focal point in ever mini-movie i made; it's always the part of him I remember precisely. Eyes are the windows of the soul. He was tall because he overpowers me when he's greedy or he can look down on me when he's admiring my precious face. His frame was always obscured under a dark cloak; he always wore black. I couldn't make up my mind what he looked underneath because I was only fourteen or fifteen. Aside from brief nudity in movies, I had never seen a man naked before. So he stayed covered. Still, beneath his black cape intrigued me. I often left his body something to wonder about even after knowing what a my ideal man would look like. Even teasing myself was titillating. He eventually had to take his cloak off, of course. His slender, yet firm and strong body could carry me to his bed. s know it's lame but it happened, in my head! Hey, this is the stuff ladies think about every night or at least I do. Sounds like something out of a Harlequin book but I assure you my ideas dive further into the inappropriate than romantic. I like crossing lines and breaking laws. wink if you only knew what that meant, ha!
I  perfected his face, his body and his personality until characteristics I've left out still screamed at me. I love blonds and most guys I like happen to be blond so I decided I needed to be fought over. of course, I'm irresistible, remember? My "master's" rival  had to be equally handsome yet completely opposite in every way; he would take on the traits I wanted to use but couldn't on my dark knight.Where my blue eyes God was sweet, his rival had to be vicious. If one had secrets the other had more. If one laughed the other cries. I created the rival in contrast to my first man. My second lover has gray eyes, lighter than the deep blue of my first lover. His hair varied from blond to brown because he could never be the black like my first. They never truly had names; just the dark man and the light man, with an occasional last name for dialogue purposes.

"Oh, I shant, Mr. Thompson, I shant!"

I know it's lame but it happened!

  art by evillittlecherry at deviantart.com

When I wrote my first stories down I realized these men needed names. I designated a color to each. Red and Grey. Red can be a first name and the word itself signifies a dominate, deep, primary color just like my first dark dream lover. Grey can be a first or last name and the color signifies lightness from darkness or an in between color which this lover always signified in my fantasies.
I wrote down my bedside erotica for myself but both Red and Grey began to develop hearts and minds and my stories started to build up. Before I knew it, a structure of a real story was taking form.



art by Yoonsik at Deviantart.com

Now, I have a series I've written based on these two teen-hood fantasies. Pull, the first novel in the series sets the stage of the old fantasies I rehearsed in my head over and over again. Red is still the dark and mysterious lover and Grey is his wicked rival. They both became anchors to the entire Sanctuary series.

 

Art by Quiss at Deviantart.com