Saturday, May 28, 2016



Every author has writing tips to share, a collection of helpful hints to guide the new writer. My brand of advice might be better described as a list of pitfalls to avoid.

First, I must warn you not to take me too seriously. I never do.

To be a successful writer, you must follow these simple rules:


This is not an easy rule. Our bodies are designed to reproduce. Countless sleepless nights and cold meals later, we may wonder what the heck our ticking clocks were thinking.

The truth is that having kids makes it more difficult to find time to write.

Don't believe me? See the evidence listed below.


Here's an example: (picture yourself at the desk, typing your latest romance novel)

"They breathed as one. A rapid, urgent breath demanding more, demanding everything. His burning kisses danced down her neck to--"

Thing One (your handsome, fiber-loaded son):  "Mom, I clogged the toilet again!"

Kind of ruins the mood, doesn't it?

And if a clogged toilet doesn't scare you, let's move on to a higher level of disruption.


"The demon flew at her face, pecking at her eyes until she could no longer see, slashing at her legs until both feet slipped in blood. She had failed. Even the scepter raised in her hand--"

Thing Two (your beautiful, tattle-tale daughter):  "Mom, Fred ate too many strawberries and puked all over the bathroom. The dogs are rolling in it, and someone's at the front door selling pizzas."

Yep, you're done writing for the night.

I'm telling you, kids are trouble. They get bored on the first day of summer vacation. And don't wear a skirt to church--they'll flash your panties to the whole congregation.

But my life, and by extension my writing, would be so boring without them.
I've never laughed so hard, felt so tired, or been driven so crazy until I had kids.

I'm not claiming that everyone on the planet has to reproduce, and I know I'd step on a lot less Legos in the dark (sheer torture) if I hadn't, but I wouldn't change a thing.


Many writers insist that every single day you must sit down and write X number of words. I don't agree with this rule, but it's one I've seen a lot. I honestly can't write every day, but make up for it on days when I write a ton. It all balances out in the end.

I won't dispute the fact that some personalities need specific daily guidelines to follow. I'm here to suggest the opposite. I want you to explore everything other than writing. Take days off. Go hiking. Learn how to paint.

Don't write in a vacuum and don’t live in a vacuum, either. Yes, I love escaping the real world and hiding in a book, but that's not the only way to live. Explore beautiful parks. Don't just have book boyfriends. Experience real feelings for yourself.

If you're stuck writing a scene, your muse has deserted you, or everything you write seems stale, maybe you just need to cleanse your palate. Like sniffing coffee beans between sampling various perfumes, back away from your computer and step outside. Let the sun shine on your skin. Listen to the wind in the trees. Expand your mind, clean your soul, and breathe fresh air into your brain.


Like Nick Dunne of Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl, this is the point where I confess something that might make you hate me. I'm a calendar-orientated, checklist-obsessed, anti-procrastinator. I have to get things done. I'm no good at relaxing. The bigger the project, the closer I am to finishing (but not quite there yet…), the tenser I become. No, tense is not the right word. More like crabby. Or, let's be honest, I turn into the B-word. I know it's true. And don't you dare blame it on my cycle, buddy. I've got Aleve and chocolate for that, but the only cure for my B-level ailment is to finish the project at hand.

Then I'm suddenly a free bird, ready to spread my wings, read a fun book, and sip a cold drink…

Yeah, right, I just move on to the next item on my check-off list.

The moral of this story is that everyone else in the house shouldn't have to suffer just because you are a writer. To be honest, I'm a work in progress as far as this is concerned.


Why should you do a single thing I say? Ah, listen to me laugh. Because you're right. Maybe my ideas won't work for you. But you're missing the point I'm trying to make.

Every writer needs to devise their own rules. And then break them. Be flexible--and I don't just mean yoga, although I'd also recommend that as well. Nobody else can tell you exactly how to live, although it's fine to research other people's opinions. Just remember to make up your own mind in the end.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016


Cover - Cold Feet Fever - Border - Web 201604

The Hero (Sam Jackson)

Sam Jackson, the irresistible but commitment-challenged younger brother of my hero in Fur Ball Fever (Book 1 of The Fever Series), is a deadbeat, gambler, and player who hides behind charm and Jack Daniels. The opportunity for character growth and improvement was so obvious, I knew he deserved his own story.

What could be more fun than tormenting a serial womanizer like Sam by pairing him with a heroine who would drive him crazy while breaking down all his barriers? So I threw in a bossy event planner hired by Granddaddy Hiram, his business partner, to keep him on the straight and narrow. Since I delight in torturing my protagonists, I then proceeded to add as many roadblocks to a happily-ever-after as I could think of, including my heroine’s nine-year-old son, forcing Sam to coax his strengths out of hiding and confront his demons.

The Heroine (Katie Deluca)

Before I started writing Cold Feet Fever, I knew I wanted a heroine with secrets. Big secrets. The kind of secrets that were job terminators and, better still from an author’s perspective, romance destroyers. The best way to determine those secrets was to interview my heroine, Katie Deluca. Here’s the gist of our first interview.

Me: Hi Katie. I understand you’re hiding some big, bad secrets. Do you mind sharing them?

Katie (shrugging): Do I have a choice? Okay, so I’m a former mortician. I used to be the Funeral Director for the family business, Paradise Gate Funeral Parlor and Crematorium, even lived there with the rest of my family. It’s not exactly something I want broadcast to clients like Sam Jackson, though. Seriously, who wants a former mortician as a party planner?

Me: Good point. But why the career switch?

Katie: The grief got to me. Even with detachment, the sadness of the bereaved was too hard to handle. Then it struck me that morticians needed the same skillset to organize a send-off for the dearly departed as event planners did to organize a kick-ass party, difference being the focus would be on fun rather than death.

Me (after strenuous thinking, which hurt my brain): I’m sensing there’s more to your career switch than that.

Katie (refusing to make eye contact): Okay, so I learned my brother was offering ‘midnight specials’ to certain clients.

Me (hopefully): Do I understand you correctly? Your brother was delivering no-death-certificates-required cremations to connected clients?

Katie: Yep. A discrete disposal service. I couldn’t have my nine-year-old son anywhere near the place.

Me (surprised and delighted to learn Katie had a son to torment the commitment-challenged Sam Jackson): Of course you couldn’t. Is there anything else I should know before I start writing?

Katie (after a long pause): Yeah. Luigi Guglione—he’s a major Atlantic City crime lord—is obsessed with me. But it’s all okay now. He’s behind bars for murder one, and I’m finally free to date again.

Me: Are you sure he can’t hurt you or anyone who shows an interest in you?

Katie: Not unless he’s pardoned or he escapes. If that happens, all bets are off.

Me (imagining dozens of ways to complicate my protagonists’ lives): Wow. That’s a lot of secrets. Thank you.

Secrets and Crime Have Never Been So Much Fun—or So Romantic!

A bad boy gambler with a lazy streak and commitment issues:

Owning Kinki, Atlantic City’s first paranormal nightclub, isn’t as easy—or as much fun—as Sam Jackson anticipated. Someone’s trying to shut him down before he opens, he’s on the verge of bankruptcy, and his matchmaking granddaddy has hired a sexy event planner with a mysterious background, bossy disposition, and criminal ties.

A mortician-turned-event-planner with big secrets:

A job as event planner offers single mom, Katie Deluca, her last chance to escape her past. Turns out party planning is more difficult than organizing funerals. Plus, the nightclub owner, although perfect for awakening her sensuality, couldn’t be more wrong for the stability she craves.

Forced to collaborate, they overcome obstacles and fight crime:

Katie is the one person who can salvage Kinki—and heal Sam’s emotional wounds. Together, they tangle with a goofy dog, exploding trucks, an unfortunate synchronized swimming episode, homicidal thugs, a corrupt building inspector, disappearing corpses, a kidnapping, and the threat of live cremation, all to deliver a kick-ass grand opening.


The clatter of high heels accompanied by excited shrieks announced they had company.

“Oooooh, Sammy. You’re a hard man to find.”

“This is gonna be crazy fun.”

Sam did a double-take. Literally. Two identical young women bounced inside and darted toward him. They wore identical ass-baring shorts with identical skimpy red tops, barely concealing identical eye-popping boobs.

Beside him, he caught Katie downing her champagne.

One of the women said, “Remember us, Sammy? We’re the stripper twins from Happy Hustler Bar & Grill two nights ago. I’m Mango, she’s Tango. You said we were cuter than two speckled pups. We’re here to deliver your private lap dance.”

“Oh, thank the Lord,” he breathed. “I thought I was seeing double.” Noticing Katie’s disapproving frown, he forced himself to remain calm. Truth be told, the episode was a blur of pounding music, bourbon shooters, and nubile bodies.

To buy time, he said, “How did you get past security?”

“These puppies did the trick.” Tango unfastened her top button. A pair of triple-Ds sprang to freedom.

Look away, his brain screamed. His eyeballs ignored the warning. Hypnotized by Tango’s bouncing rack as it escaped captivity, he snapped out of it when Mango embraced him and ground her pelvis against his ass.

Using his finely-tuned peripheral vision, a skill he’d honed to preserve his hide from pissed-off husbands, he caught Katie pouring herself another glass of champagne.

His hopes for impressing her fizzled. It looked bad, especially when Mango climbed him as if he were a stripper pole, wrapping one leg around his calf tighter than a python.

Noting Katie’s scowl, he responded with a rueful shrug intended to project innocence. Disengaging from Mango without hurting her feelings was a challenge. He started by unpeeling one surprisingly strong arm from his waist. “Easy there, sugar.”

Mango responded by clamping her other arm around him and purring, “Let’s you and me get comfy in a chair for your special treat.”

“Sorry, ladies.” Making a point of not staring at any boobs, he tried to hide his desperation. “I’m afraid you’re interrupting an important business meeting.”

“Aw, baby,” Tango rubbed her booty against his leg before unzipping her shorts, “Chillax. You were tons more fun two nights ago.”

Katie interjected, “I bet he was a laugh a minute.”

Mango loosened her grip a fraction. Sam managed to break free. Breathing hard, and not in a good way, he retreated three paces.

While Tango shimmied out of her shorts, she scowled at Katie. “Who’s the undertaker bitch?”

“Hey.” Katie slammed down her glass. “Who are you calling an undertaker? I own a successful event planning business.”

Tango’s lips twisted in a sneer. “What kind of events do you plan? Wakes? I swear that suit would turn Morticia green with envy.”

Katie’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as she advanced on Tango. “Don’t. Call. Me. Morticia.”

Maureen-2016-Headshot 2

Three Facts About Maureen Fisher
  1. Once upon a time, long, long ago, I was a chocoholic. That lasted until my ninth birthday, when I devoured 10 Jersey Milk chocolate bars in one sitting. I puked brown for two days. Even now, I prefer vanilla or caramel. Please don’t tell anyone. All romance writer love chocolate. It’s mandatory
  2. I once drank paint thinner in an oil painting class. Not on purpose. I thought it was my water. Hey, both bottles were clear with blue labels. Sadly, I’d already glugged it down before realizing my mistake. An ambulance carted me off to the hospital, where a doctor warned me I’d be really, REALLY sick for 48 hours. He wasn’t kidding.
  1. Contrary to popular belief about romance writers, I do NOT think about sex all the time. I often think about other things like, for example, Speedos (pros and cons). Or manscaping. Or Sexapaloosa. Oops. That sounds like I really do think a lot about sex, doesn’t it? But trust me. It’s all in the name of research. Seriously.
For more information about Maureen, please check out her Bio.

Where to Buy Cold Feet Fever:

Cold Feet Fever is available on Amazon (ebook & paperback) and Smashwords (iBooks, Kobo, B&N). If you feel compelled to buy it (and even if you don't), please click here.

Maureen Fisher’s Contact Information:

Maureen’s Website Facebook Author Page Twitter Goodreads

Thursday, May 12, 2016


Title: Crimson Tides
Author: Eliza Tilton 
Genre: YA Fantasy
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR

Back in Lakewood Avikar finally learns the truth about his father—and the lies he’s been told since birth. Since King Corban doesn’t believe his tale about the shapeshifters, it falls to Avikar to find a way to route out the beasts from the lands and stop them once and for all.

Lucino has left Jeslyn in Mirth to go fight the Kuuni.  When he arrives on the black shores, ready to slaughter them all, he finds that killing is no longer as easy as before. His human side is becoming stronger, and the repercussions of his love for Jeslyn will put his race and every plan he’s ever made at risk.

In Book Three of the Daath Chronicles, two very different boys will discover who they thought they were is nowhere close to the truth, and sacrificing themselves is the only way to save the world they love.

Eliza graduated from Dowling College with a BA in Visual Communications. When she’s not arguing with excel at her day job, or playing Dragon Age 2, again, she’s writing. Her stories hold a bit of the fantastical and there’s always a romance. Her YA Fantasy series, The Daath Chronicles, is published by Curiosity Quills Press.

Author Links:

Buy Links:
#Free with #KindleUnlimited
Broken Forest:
Crimson Tides:

Wind rattled the wooden shutter on the open window, banging it against the home. An annoying sound, and no one came to close it. Why? The bang echoed through the silent forest. Where were the owls, or even a wolf? Uneasiness filled each of my steps as we slowly walked to the door. I expected an arrow to come flying my way. Two strangers knocking on the door of a secluded cabin in the middle of the night … how could we not get an arrow in the face?

Raven stayed behind me, her hands resting on the hilts of her daggers. My palms sweat and my mouth went dry. I wanted my sword in my hands, but if I approached while holding a weapon, they might attack. Holding my breath, I knocked on the door, and it swayed open beneath my touch. A stringent odor wafted out from the cabin and I covered my nose.

Monday, May 9, 2016


The time has come!! I'm happy to present the cover of book three in The December People Series, A Taste of Death and Honey. I'm so thankful to Curiosity Quills Press for their amazing work. I think it's stunning! And just the right amount of creepy. What do you think?

This book will grab you by the throat, challenge your mind, and turn your heart inside out. Sharon Bayliss delivers a powerful, emotional punch with her third book in the December People series. - Amy Bearce, author of  The World of Aluvia Series

When Samantha’s parents died, she lost everything. Her home. Her friends. Her hope. Then a life-loving spring witch at the children’s shelter fills her life with light and joy once again.

But like the springtime, Samantha’s happiness doesn’t last forever. Her friend dies violently in front of her, the victim of a mysterious killing spell. Furious and grief-stricken, Samantha resents her own weak spring magic. She doesn’t need life and renewal. She wants revenge…and death.

Homeless and alone, Samantha seeks shelter with her old friends, the Vandergraff family, and finds an unexpected ally in the powerful winter solstice witch, Evangeline. The girls’ anger and eagerness lead them to cast a killing spell before knowing the truth behind Samantha’s friend’s death or the identity of her killer. 

Once the spell is cast, they can’t take it back, and they must fight to stop their own curse before it takes away everyone they love.

A Taste of Death and Honey comes out on 6/9/16!! If you're interested in reading it early and writing a review, please sign up here. And if you're new to the series, you can get caught up by reading Destruction (Book One) and Watch Me Burn (Book Two), both available on Amazon and Audible. 

Thank you for your support!


Monday, May 2, 2016


The wait is over!
How to Ditch Dead Guys is now available on AMAZON in paperback!
(Thanks for your patience!)