New Cover

Here's the new cover of Jaguar Moon - Scent of a Mate. Eliza Black did the cover and as usual, I'm just tickled with it. All of the cover artist at New Concepts Publishing do a wonderful job. Here's a blurb:

Deep in the rain forest of Southern Belize, high in the Maya Mountains, live the Jaguar people. Descendants of the ancient Maya, they are Nahual, born to walk as cat and man.

Devante, prince of the Jaguar, carries the blood of Itzamna, the Jaguar Sun. In order to inherit the throne and save his people, he must join his line with that of Ixchel, the Jaguar Moon. Only one carries this blood.

Miakoda is Leguar, born into a new race of hybrid cats. Half jaguar and half leopard, she was banned at birth by the jaguars for her tainted blood. Now she must join with their prince in order to save the hybrid cats from the monster that created them.

Together, they must find a way to join their two worlds when the species have spent a lifetime hating each other. That is the least of their problems. The hybrids are spread out, alone and being hunted. They are not only turning rogue in trying to deal with their own inner wars, but are disappearing at an alarming rate.

In order to defeat the evil threatening their people, Devante and Miakoda must risk everything. But at what cost will victory come?

Smothering my Muse

The last few weeks my push to finish a story turned into a struggle. With the first draft complete it should have been easier. I recognized the problem areas, knew what I wanted to accomplish, yet was distracted. My mind was wandering to other stories, and characters were running through my mind in pure chaos. In short, my muse was running amuck.

I’ve never given much thought to my muse. I know what stirs her, like a good rain storm, but she’s always been there, just a part of me. We’ve never had a problem concentrating on a story once we’ve completed the first draft. So maybe I just wasn’t focusing enough.

My best writing is done early morning before reality encroaches. The thirty minute drive to work is ideal--quiet with few distractions. (Okay, I’ll admit I’ve pulled into the parking lot without remembering the drive, or nearly rear ended a semi over a good scene. No, I’m not proud of this—actually a little terrified if you want the truth.)

To focus on the story I decided no more music in the car, no more reading until this story was done. (Since I don’t read in the same genre while I’m writing, my TBR pile was growing.) No more movies either, and I stopped those wasted daydreams unless they were about the current story. Every spare minute was spent on writing, editing and polishing.

Two weeks into this my muse packed up and left me. I couldn’t really blame her, I’d have left too had that been an option. My writing had ceased entirely, my mood was scary and still no rain, with none in the forecast. My muse was smothering at my hands. Finally, I couldn’t stand my own company any longer.

I decided to scrap the book, my writing, and my sanity. All over rated anyway. I popped in a CD, grabbed a good book and read the entire thing. I felt renewed, relaxed when I finally went to bed. This morning my muse popped up on the way to work. She’s a smart ass little thing, but we fit well together. I’m just glad I didn’t smother her entirely.