Reviews for Eight Nights At Sea
“A passionate fairytale”
“I couldn’t put this one down!”
“This story is so magical it will make your heart spin”
My Once Upon A Time fanfic, The Memory Keeper, is set in the mid-season hiatus during season 3. Emma has spent a year with no memory of her former life, and Hook has arrived, determined to get her to remember – and then get her home. He’s pulling out all the stops paying court to the distrustful Ms. Swan, and in this scene, he’s arranged a date aboard the Jolly Roger . . .
“Well, then,” Hook asked, securing the wheel. “What’s it to be? Shall we dine in the Captain’s cabin, or would you prefer to be out under the stars?”
Emma pictured herself cozily ensconced in a private room with this man, feeling the motion of the ship gently rocking them as they sat across the table from each other, with the candlelight playing across that face of his.
“We’ll eat out here,” she said firmly.
In my Once Upon A Time fanfic, Mr. Jones, Killian Jones is swept away by a cursed magical instrument and has lost all memory of his former life. Now working as a desert tour guide in New Mexico, he’s more than intrigued by his new neighbor – a woman named Emma . . .
“Emma. . .” he began. “Do we know each other?”
“I live next door,” she reminded him. “We met yesterday.”
He gave a short laugh in response. “I know I told you I’ve had a head injury, but my memory isn’t that bad. I remember yesterday. It’s just that you seem familiar somehow.” Continue reading
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“This book works through real life trials and leaves you with that warm all over feeling and the hope that one day.. you will meet your Michael… or make you remember to be grateful if you already have! Wonderful wonderful read.”
In my Once Upon A Time fanfic, Loose Threads (a later installment of The Memory Keeper series), we meet up with Killian and Emma (and a few others) a short time before Henry is set to take the throne as the new king of Camelot. Snow and Regina are ready to plan a memorable party – if only everyone else would get on board . . .
“I realize this is just pomp and circumstance, but I could do with a bit less of the pomp.” Killian set down his empty wine goblet, unstoppered his flask and poured a healthy dose of rum into it.
“I’ll take some of that,” David said, nudging his own goblet over. “And one thing I’ve learned about Regina – she can never have enough pomp.”
“How bloody long can they argue over the varying shades of crimson and gold?” Killian asked.
“Who even knew there were varying shades of crimson and gold?” Robin interjected, reaching for the flask. “I don’t think we’ve made an inch of headway.”
“If you three are quite finished,” Regina said, raising her voice. “We could use a little guidance.”
“Is it regarding color schemes, china patterns, flatware designs, draperies or sconces?” Killian asked.
“No, it’s -”
“Furniture placement, carpeting, water closet availability or floral design?” Killian continued, ticking the items off on his fingers.
“Enough!” Regina snapped. She took a breath. “It’s a matter of decorum.”
Killian raised a brow. “Well, don’t look at me.”
“Yes! That’s it, Lizzie! Work for it…can you curl your toes? Think about your toes, Lizzie.”
She blinked rapidly, as if the lights and sounds were overwhelming her. A tear leaked out of the corner of one eye, and then another, and another.
“I know it hurts. I know. I know, Lizzie. But move a toe. Just one toe, if you can.”
I’ve been struggling with this for a while because it was just so deeply entrenched. Facebook is such a part of the internet landscape now, it’s hard to imagine life without it. The truth is, I’m on it less and less these days (on this author account), and losing it now would barely warrant a blip on my radar.
Ever since my writing career took off in the YA market, my time has been at a premium. I’m behind on a lot of the romance projects I’d like to finish, and carving out the time to finish them has been really tough. I do work a full-time day job in addition to the writing, so I have to spend what little time I do have in a wiser fashion if I’m going to manage this.
To that end, I’ve decided to let Facebook go for Britt DeLaney. It wasn’t giving me much in return, really, and Facebook has changed its algorithms so frequently and at such detriment to authors that it makes no sense to waste precious time with it anymore. Continue reading