Tami Lund Talks Babies

I’ve been thinking about having another baby.

Okay, relax. I said thinking about, not I’m taking my temperature daily and purchasing a giant bottle of pre-natal vitamins and new lingerie (sorry, honey). And when I say thinking about, what I really mean is, Oh my God, look at that adorable baby! Oh, look at that sweet little toddler. Oh, that chubby cheeked smile. Oh, that little-kid voice. Oh, they’re all so darn adorable when they’re somewhere between utterly and completely helpless and, say, middle school.

Let’s be real here, though. As much as I try to deny it, the cold, hard reality is, I’ve passed my fortieth birthday. More than a year ago. More than a couple years ago. Hell, I don’t even know if my ovaries still work. I didn’t ovulate often when I was in my prime, and I’m pretty sure I’m peri-menopausal.

I also have a love affair with wine that I’m not keen on breaking off, even for what would amount to a short period of time. And if wine and I are calling it quits, I’d better be shedding pounds, not growing a basketball in my belly. Because let’s face it, the only reason I can’t let go of those extra ten has everything to do with that giant bottle of red on my counter. Well, actually, it’s the ones in the recycle bin that are to blame, but that one on my counter will be added to the ranks soon enough.

And let’s get even more real… I once had two kids. Now I have one. And one is so much easier than two. So much. Compound that with the fact that my husband and I feel this need to put our remaining child in a bubble, to bestow upon her all the love and attention and focus that perhaps we had not given enough of to my son.

She seems to be thriving as a result. So far, she isn’t turning into a spoiled little princess, which I admit, was a fear. Not that we’d do it consciously, of course, but I worried we would put her on a pedestal in an attempt to keep her from doubting her own self-worth, and then she’d develop an attitude or personality to match the attention showered upon her.

Lucky for us, she’s simply becoming more confident, trying a little bit harder, suffering the spotlight more than she probably ever thought she’d have to. Once upon a time, she hovered in her brother’s shadow, and she swears she was happy there. Now there is no shadow, and she’s figuring it out, one day at a time, helped along by one hundred percent of mine and my husband’s focus and love. No more sharing our time, no more hiding behind the bigger personality.

Six months after we were forced into this new, smaller family unit, I’d say we’re doing okay. We still have some lows, and actually, they feel really, really low when they hit, because there are longer periods of normalcy, even highs, in between. But we’re working through them, figuring it out, living our lives. We’ve found a comfortable place for the moment, and given the obscene amount of change that’s occurred in my life this year, I’m not overly keen on shaking things up again any time soon. Not even nine months down the road.

So yeah, when I say I’m thinking about having another baby, what I really mean is… Can I hold yours? Just for a minute? I’m more than happy to give him/her back when I’m done.




Tami Lund is an author, wine drinker, and adorer of other people’s kids. She’s written a few books, if you’re interested in checking them out HERE.

Sara Daniel (Who?) on Writing, Blogging and Having a Life

Who can do all three of those things at once? Not me, for sure.

You’re probably staring at your screen thinking, wait, who’s Sara Daniel? I don’t remember seeing that name recently. Yeah, that’s because I’ve missed I blew off my last couple blogging dates.

0922161301aHere’s what happens: I check my email on Wednesday and see that Tami Lund has written a beautiful blog. But I’m supposed to blog the day before Tami. That means—oh crap! Well, I can’t post now and take away from her day. That would be rude. But I won’t forget next time, I swear…. Two weeks later: Oh look, another awesome post from Tami. Ohhhh, #&$*!

This summer I was busy having a (gasp!) life. I did absolutely no writing, but I managed to schedule all my blog posts and keep up with the administrative side of my author life. Then the “having a life” thing started winding down because vacationing doesn’t pay the bills. (If it does for you, please, please share your secret!) I started combing through my hard drive, trying to remember what books I had in what half-baked stages that I needed to finish. Then I actually started doing real author work—editing one of those rough draft books and listening to audio galleys of already-released books. But since I was back in my “normal” routine, I didn’t see a need to schedule blog posts ahead of time…and then I forgot the need to do them at all.


But now I’m back. Not only did I remember this blog (and scheduled it a whole 11 hours ahead of time!), I’ve also been trying to incorporate “having a life” with writing work. The pictures above are the view from my temporary office (i.e. a picnic table at the local park).

Finally, I’ll leave you with a sample of one of my new audio books. If you like audio, you can listen to samples and find links to all my audio books here.

He has nothing left to offer. She’s determined to show him how much he’s worth.

Shot by a member of his elite military team, Justin Lawson goes into hiding, cutting all ties with his girlfriend to keep her safe from the traitor who’s hunting him down. With his body shattered, he no longer has anything to offer her anyway.

Holly Walters refuses to accept her boyfriend’s out-of-the-blue rejection without an explanation. Intent on seeking closure, she tracks him to the Wiccan Haus. Once there, she is drawn to help him heal his broken body and spirit, even though she knows she has to let him go.

The rogue assassin catches up to them, but this time Holly is in his crosshairs. Before Justin can make her believe he’s a man worth fighting for, they’ll have to fight for both their lives.

Buy Links:
All Romance eBooks
Google Play
Barnes & Noble

A Man Worth Fighting For – audio version
narrated by Hollie Jackson

Buy Links:

Special Guest Janis Lane


from Janis Lane

I write fiction and by the time I’d written the third Detective Kevin Fowler novel Murder on Blake Hill I felt as if I lived in Hubbard, NY. Are there certain key elements of the stories that resemble my own small Western New York village? Oh, sure. You might recognize the blazing color of the hard maples in the fall, decent townspeople who give a friendly wave, the fond interaction of the local police with the citizens. A mayor can be spotted walking his dog through the village.

There exists a table where politics are discussed on a daily basis, but Buddy and Rita are not there. Sad to say, no fresh sticky buns either, but fortunately you will find them across town. Now you suspect my secrets. I often use a piece of this or that to make an entirely new whole. It may resemble something with which you are familiar, but it is never the real thing. I write fiction.

Magic does happen. Once born, a character (or place) takes on a life and personality of his/her/its own. Detective Kevin Fowler drives a ‘plain brown wrapper’ car. It would be a rare thing to see him in a marked police car. You can almost see the raised eyebrows and frown on the popular detective’s face.

Beverly Hamlin knows no stranger in her home town. Her self-assurance is a thing of wonder to Kevin who is in love with her.

My cozy mysteries are all about small-town America, a slice of life which gives us a peek into the trials and tribulations of ordinary citizens. Are the characters based on real people? You bet. Well, parts of them here and there. I, you will remember, write fiction.

Disconcerting events disturb the peaceful town of Hubbard, New York, but Detective Kevin Fowler and his staff are on the job, even as shocking secrets are revealed and night patrols are stepped up to a high alert. Church bells chime faintly in the distance.

Detective Kevin Fowler is baffled by the wall of silence that greets him from the relatives of two septuagenarians whose bodies are discovered in a country cemetery called Blake Hill. Even more upsetting is the unusual rash of vandalism reported nightly by the citizens in his peaceful community. Have the teenagers declared an uprising? Night patrols reveal a totally unexpected and shocking situation. When a poignant secret is revealed, Beverly Hampton weeps over the sadness of a long ago tragedy, but soon wedding bells are heard for the home town princess and the popular detective. At the local diner the alluring fragrance of fresh-baked, cinnamon sticky buns continues to reign over the peaceful citizens of Hubbard, New York.

Amazon Buy Link

Read more about the cozy mysteries by Janis Lane on Amazon.

Janis Lane is the pen-name for gifted author Emma Lane who writes cozy mysteries as Janis, Regency as Emma, and spice as Sunny Lane.

She lives in Western New York where winter is snowy, spring arrives with rave reviews, summer days are long and velvet, and fall leaves are riotous in color. At long last she enjoys the perfect bow window for her desk where she is treated to a year-round panoramic view of nature. Her computer opens up a fourth fascinating window to the world. Her patient husband is always available to help with a plot twist and encourage Emma to never quit. Her day job is working with flowers at Herbtique and Plant Nursery, the nursery she and her son own.

Look for information about writing and plants on Emma’s new website. Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma’s face.

Stay connected to Emma on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out the things that make Emma smile on Pinterest.

Cover Reveal Smoke & Mirrors

sm-draft5Smoke & Mirrors, is a Black Swan Guardian Elite crossover with

dallas-fire-n-rescue-logo-transpPaige Tyler’s Dallas Fire & Rescue Kindle World which releases October 13th.

Come join me TODAY, Wednesday, September 21st for my “Official Cover Reveal”. Lots of surPRIZES!!!

Click here 

She’s not what she seems. Neither is he. But the terrorist threat is real. So is the desire that smolders between them.

Jonathan came to Dallas for a fresh start, but you can’t run from your past, or the man in the mirror. He finds new hope in the waitress at his favorite diner.

After two tours in Afghanistan, nursing no longer appeals to  Gwen, and running her Uncle’s diner is only a stop-gap measure. When she overhears a conversation threatening Americans with terrorism, she’s not sure who to trust because nothing is what is seems in Smoke & Mirrors.

If you like sexy, military drama like Paige Tyler’s SEALs of Coronado series you’ll love Smoke & Mirrors.

….oh, of course there will be Diamonds release week! Want to see what I’ll be giving away? Sneak peek over at the “Official Cover Reveal”.

Click here to join the FUN NOW!!

The Pros and Cons of Fall

The docks are coming out of the water.

Every day as I drive to the day job, I cruise along the western shore of a rather large lake with an active lake community. The people who live and play here take their responsibilities seriously. There have been years when they’ve put their docks out before the last snowfall, and others when there was ice on the water before all the docks were pulled in and stored away for winter. This is the time of year when the owners gradually start to call it quits on summer, and they pack away the lake toys, the boats, the docks, the sun-bleached Adirondack chairs. Each Monday, the lake feels slightly more desolate, as fewer and fewer wooden pathways stretch into its depths. Okay, yes, I’m being melodramatic, but that’s what it feels like.

It’s fall in Michigan. And I have a love/hate relationship with this season.

Although I hate giving up my cute summer skirts and sandals, I do love getting reacquainted with my sweaters and jeans and boots again. Oh how I love my boots. Undoubtedly I have too many pair but I just don’t care.

1964959_10152853724226579_4234588001598667889_nI love the pumpkins and apples and warm donuts and fresh apple cider—heated, with a healthy dose of spiced rum, please. I love the colors, driving through the country and admiring nature’s display. The decorations—aside from Christmas, there is no comparison to fall adornments. I grow corn every year in the hopes of enjoying a few delicious ears straight off the stalk, but I rarely manage to pluck it before the neighborhood deer find it. And yet I continue to grow it anyway because those stalks become natural fall decorations on my front porch.

Okay, I admit, I love the nip in the air, too. I love walking the dog without needing a shower immediately thereafter. And while you will never hear me complain about summer being too long, I admit it is nice to open the windows and enjoy the outdoors even when there isn’t a lake handy to take a dip in.

I love my flowerbeds in the fall. I have a few flowers that are absolutely in their glory in September: sedum, aster, turtleheads, perennial geraniums. My roses seem to like fall best of all, too. Even my Shasta daisies are more prolific right now than they have been all season.

1920471_10152828526401579_9123249303782586428_nThe rest put on a show, too. The leaves on my peonies turn a lovely shade of burgundy. The lilies turn bright yellow. The flowering cherry and crabapple leaves will be red soon, the fern-like leaves on my locust tree, yellow. My flowering pear is a bit of a showoff and holds out until nearly everything else is spent, and then it is like a bright flame in my front yard. The strawberries, the hydrangea, even the hostas are almost more pretty at this time of year than all summer long. Oh, and let’s not forget those glorious burning bushes, named for the ridiculous bright red color they don at this time of year.

(PS – I tend to post pics on my Facebook page, if you wanna have a “like.”)

Yeah, fall is certainly beautiful. But it has it’s downside. The days get shorter—quickly, it seems. Already, it’s dark when I wake up, barely light when I leave for the day job each day.

That’s another aspect I hate. Fall is ‘busy season’ at my day job, and coupled with a far-too-long commute, last minute construction projects, and back to school traffic, I spend far too much time away from my family—and my writing. It’s mid-September and I’m already resentful, and I still at least another month before life becomes reasonable again.

This year I have new reasons to dislike fall. My son, who I lost this past spring, was born in October. I was doing all right, moving along the road toward management after such a horrible, tragic situation, when back-to-school hit—and all those Facebook memories, reminding me of how utterly adorable he was on each of his first days of school. Maybe it’s the reduced sunlight, the long hours spent in the car (seriously, I have a stupid long commute), or knowing he’ll never have another first day of school again; I don’t know, but it’s been extra hard these past couple weeks.

Besides the birthday, we also have Halloween, family gatherings at Thanksgiving, and Christmas to look forward to dreading. Those who have been through it say the first year is the hardest; experiencing all those “firsts” without your loved one in your life. I’m right smack in the middle of it, and so far, I hope they’re right. I hope it gets better.

So yeah, you can see where I might be a tad conflicted about fall. Now, I think it’s time for one of those delicious freshly pressed ciders—heavy on the rum, please.



Tami Lund is an author, wine drinker, blogger, and occasional introspector. She also happens to have a book on sale right now, so if you’re interested in trying out a paranormal series about shifters and magic, give INTO THE LIGHT a try. Tami suspects you’ll like it.

Holley’s bad angel and sweet wolf

(By “bad” angel I mean a guy who quit a pretty outstanding gig…as an angel, and by “sweet” wolf, I mean her name is literally “Sweetie.”

Hi, I’m Holley Trent, and I write annoying post titles.)


My holiday fallen angel/werewolf novella An Angel Fallen has been re-issued in the Heavenly Bodies bundle. It’s a buck!

Here’s a peek:

Mark tossed the meat to the front of the hole. After a moment, she poked her nose out and sniffed it. With a fast snap of her powerful jaw, she snatched it up and scooted back into the shadows before he could grab her.

“For fuck’s sake.” He shook his head. He still had angel reflexes and should have been better than this. He was smarter than this, and yet he was letting an animal get the better of him. She was winning because he refused to treat her like what she’d become.

“All right, pup,” he muttered. “You want to act like a wild dog, I’ll play along.”

The yellow-green of Sweetie’s eyes shone like beacons inside her shadowy niche. She’d stopped growling. Whether it was the meat or the sound of his voice, he didn’t know, but she seemed less agitated. He wasn’t, though. Each blink of hers marked off a few seconds of tense silence that eroded his shrinking reserve of patience.

He wanted to take her home now, and the kind gentleness of his angel days wasn’t going to serve him well. She’d always told him he was too sweet for his own good. Well, he’d lost some of that sweetness right around the time his best friend decided to disappear into the fucking woods. He felt it was half his fault for not telling her sooner that he wanted her.

He clicked his tongue at her and snapped his fingers. “Come here, girl.”

She blinked again, unmoving.

“You want me to throw kibble at you? Maybe a dead rabbit?”

She lifted her head and made a little woof sound.

“Are you kidding me?” If Sweetie-the-woman really was front and center in the brain she shared with the animal, she would have been gagging about now. She didn’t even like gamey meat. Mark needed to find a way to put her back into the driver’s seat in her head.

He clicked his tongue and kept his stare on the wolf. If the wolf was hungry, maybe the woman was, too.

There was one last piece of jerky in his pocket. He extended it to her, and this time didn’t let go. “Aren’t you hungry? You’re so skinny. Are you’re confused. You can’t remember what’s okay to hunt. You don’t want to hurt anything you’re not supposed to, right?”

She blinked.

“Come with me. I’ll get you something good to eat. No rabbit, but maybe a steak.”

That pulled an emphatic bark from the wolf’s throat. She eased forward and grabbed the end of the jerky between her side teeth. She tried to tug it away from him, but he held on.

“Okay, then. Steak. Maybe you’ll let me cook it a little. I’m getting better at it.” He chuckled and slowly extended his hand to touch her paw.

When she didn’t flinch, he stroked her foreleg softly and whispered encouraging words.

She inched out, nose-first, and he grabbed her around the flanks before she could pull away.

She nipped at him, letting the jerky fall, and setting her razor-sharp teeth into the wool of his coat. Her legs flailed wildly, but he held her tight and pressed his face against the fur of her neck. “It’s all right to fall apart,” he said to the woman in the wolf. “You did it, and now I’m going to put you back together. Take what you need from me.”

The wolf wouldn’t know what that meant, but the woman inside would. That woman had been depriving herself of the soothing energy she’d needed for too long, and he wasn’t even sure she’d take it from him. “Fixing” a wolf wasn’t a temporary thing. Wolves mated for life. If she accepted him, they’d be psychically and intimately tethered for the rest of their lives, and given Mark’s still-intact immortality, that’d be a very long time. He was fine with that—their needs and wants being all wrapped up in each other’s. Knowing everything about each other. Propping each other up. He’d fallen for the hope of that—of having her for a wife. It’d be a different kind of heaven than what he’d known.

He rubbed what he could reach of her matted fur and whispered, “You don’t have to understand me. Just let Sweetie out. Let me feed her and get her warm.”

She squirmed ineffectually, but the wolf’s sense of self-preservation won out. The fur-covered, shivering pile of bones in his arms shifted.

Brown pelt gave way to dirty, tan skin. The yellow in her green eyes withdrew rendering them more human and more familiar. Her dark hair fell over her face in tangled clumps that she blew away in a surprised huff as he set her bare feet onto the snowy ground.

“There you are.” He yanked off his coat and wrapped it around her shivering shoulders before picking her up. He cradled her and followed his tracks out of the woods, though he didn’t really need them. He’d followed her so much during the past six months he had nearly every inch of the forest memorized. Mark could still teleport, but holding her felt so good and he wouldn’t give up the hike for anything.

“A-angel?” came her hoarse voice against his chest.

He leapt over a fallen tree, being careful to land softly so as not to jostle the already-nervous Sweetie.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing?”

“I should ask you the same thing. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“We always have choices.”

You can still get An Angel Fallen on its own in case you’re a certain kinda way and need to have an entire series in individual files on your e-reader, but if you buy this bundle for a buck, you get two other angel stories along with it. It’s a pretty sweet deal.

Get An Angel Fallen at one of these places:

·All Romance eBooks
·Barnes and Noble
·Google Play