Hey, everyone! I recently fielded a question from a reader regarding my Hell's Valley books not being available and wanted to clarify for you all. (And as a plug -- if you subscribed to my newsletter, you would already know the status update on the books...)

So here's the deal. As you may know, I had my first series, Hell to Pay, published by Crimson Romance/Simon & Schuster. I then began my second series, Hell's Valley (psychic cowboys -- yippie ki-yay), with Crimson/S&S as well. However, In March of last year, S&S shut down Crimson Romance, and my Hell's Valley series took a bit of a break as I (and many of the Crimson authors) regrouped after the sudden swerve/pivot/change in direction. (Parenthetically, I've always heard that publishing is a rapidly-changing business, but hadn't truly experienced just how rapidly it could change until last March... I still have whiplash...)

As you may know, I've recently released Hell's Valley book #3, Legacy of Danger. And I'll release the final book, Legacy Found, in early 2019. (yahoo! -- wait 'til you read it -- I pulled out all the stops!)

However, in the meantime as I publish Hell's Valley #3 and #4, I've been working behind the scenes on rights reversion for Hell's Valley #1 and #2. I finally got my rights back for Legacy of Lies and Legacy Lost and am in the process of republishing them myself. Expect to see these two books back up for purchase in the next month.

So if you're looking for Legacy of Lies and Legacy Lost, hang in there. They'll be back up on all the major retailers soon. The timing was less than optimal, but I think you'll be happy with the final product of the entire series!

Oh boy, it’s been so long since I’ve written a proper blog. You all know how much I love lists. And cats. So let’s do this thing!
 
Sadly, I lost two cats to illness last year. While I cannot replace my lovelies who crossed the rainbow bridge too soon, we were able to adopt more. So let’s introduce you to the most recent family of shelter cats.

 
Fluffy – Pretty plus and absurdly hirsute, her main hobbies include judging others and hissing. And snacks. Lots of snacks. Preferably brought to her by her human slaves.

"I'm sitting in mah chair, shedding large quantities of hair, while I judge you."


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"Mumsies, you did not specifically tell me NOT to climb up here."



​Fred – With his sister, Wilma, was rescued from a hoarding situation where he had no attention and not a lot of care. Current hobbies: rubbing his cheeks against his mommy’s face, purring loudly, getting into trouble, and begging for goldfish (crackers).
 

"I was given to understand that dinner would be served promptly at 6pm."




Wilma – A petite girl with a big meow. Sister to Fred. Hobbies include burrowing under my blankets right at 3am every morning, running back and forth in the house like she’s lost her mind, and posturing in a threatening manner at the birds outside the living room window.
 


​These three devils -- er, angels -- provide hours of entertainment. But sometimes, these little fur balls are just plain … jerks. Here’s a sampling of why:

​"Mumsies, we cannot help but notice that you've been eating too many donuts lately..."

It took over a year, but the final two books of my Hell's Valley series are here! (Well, book #3 will release on 10/16/18 and book #4 a month or so later. So technically not completely done but the finish line is in sight!)

As you may recall, Hell's Valley is my paranormal western series. Think: Big Valley meets Alphas or Bonanza plus the X-Men. I hope you enjoy this latest installment of this exciting story!

Here's the blurb:
Prodigal son and MMA fighter Vaughn Taggart fled his family's ranch when his burgeoning psychic abilities and disastrous decisions destroyed his brother's marriage. But his sister's urgent plea for help prior to her being brutally attached by a demonic monster and the escalating threats from the rival Brand ranch in a ploy to obtain Taggart land, have lured Vaughn back to Copper River, Wyoming—but only long enough to get his family back on track. Nothing could make him stay where he no longer fits in.

Fresh out of residency and looking to escape a darkened past, Mariah West has her hands full with a new practice in a rural hospital. Forever underfoot and brazenly challenging her care of his sister, the powerfully muscled Vaughn Taggart racks her nerves and arouses her body.

When Mariah's selfless concern for a patient makes her a pawn in the hands of the Brands, she discovers a fierce protector behind Vaughn’s wounded soul and a man with an extraordinary gift.

Now, Mariah and Vaughn must move beyond their pasts and unite to defeat the intensifying evil targeting the Taggart family--an evil that mortals can neither imagine nor fight.



Preorder links are here:
Amazon

Kobo

Barnes and Noble

There’s something about airports that gets me in the writing mood. It’s probably because any time I’m in the airport, by default it means that I’m not on call/working at the Day Job. (Okay, that’s kind of a fib. I totally just logged off the EMR where I was putting out a few fires right before this plane boards. Anyway.)
 
There’s a saying in medicine: “You want care that is Good, Fast, and Cheap? Just know that you can’t have all three – you have to pick two.” Yes, there might be some public health folks who disagree, but just go with me on this one, because in broad brushstrokes, it’s true.
 
You know what else is true? I can’t have Medicine, Manuscripts, and Mayhem all at the same time. I have to pick two to focus on at any given time. As writers, we’re always picking two out of the three things. Or sometimes we’re choosing two out of four or more aspects of our lives for our focs! We’re making that seesaw balance, back and forth, all the time.
 
A weekend on call where I had hoped to edit 50 pages of manuscript? That plan got blown to bits with the 3 C-sections (1 crash section, 1 emergent) and ten adult admissions (2 into the ICU on vents, one of whom got transferred later that night). Did I get Medicine? Yes. Did I get Mayhem? Check. Manuscripts? NOPE.
 
What about when I was on call for a holiday but only had two admissions? You betcha I edited for all I was worth. Medicine + Manuscripts. But no Mayhem (thank goodness).
 
And what about the time I tried to outline a brand new book and series while on a busy vacation where my burnt-out brain didn’t want to work? Mayhem + Manuscripts. But no Medicine.
 
As authors and as humans, there is only so much we can handle at any given time, and at the end of the day it’s all about getting that seesaw to level out. Each person has to find that balance point, whether it’s writing + family + illness + work + moving + crazy life. Sometimes, though, it takes all of our effort to get that stupid seesaw back to level. But when we do? It’s magic.

We’ve heard so much about burnout. There are articles in my medical journals about physician burnout, Posts about burnout for writers, and articles about physical burnout in my trail running magazines. In each of these documents, the guidance is clear: take time for yourself. That’s cool.
 
But what happens when you don’t have the time to take?
 
What happens when everything fries at once?
 
So, quick update for those of you who don’t know me yet. I’m a family doc who does deliveries (FP/Ob) near  The End Of The Earth. It’s rural, and no we don’t have specialists. FP’s do most stuff. In my clinic, I’m it for Ob – we don’t have another FP/Ob on site for my group, so I workity-work as long as I think I can go, then get a locums doctor to come in and cover for a few weeks while I try to recharge. Only this time, nothing is recharging. I pushed beyond what was prudent over the past three months and it caught up to me in a nasty hurry.
 
Prior to and through this time, writing world was pushing and draaaging along, and right when I finally sorted out my words to complete a project…the publisher closed shop. Like, one day open and the next day done. All of a sudden, I found myself self-publishing the last two books in the series. Learning curve: vertical. Effort input: much higher than before. And to say that I’m doubting every step of the way would be a vast understatement.
 
THEN, mix in physical exhaustion. Not just from the Day Job, but also because >someone< is dumber than two bricks and decided that training for and running her first ultra-distance trail race would be a super duper swell idea. Because, who the hell needs time or sleep for 5 months of training? Fast forward in time, and 2 weeks ago I completed my first 50K trail run. It took more than a physical toll – I was completely unprepared for the cognitive and emotional drain that occurred. Thank God I was off an extra day after that weekend, because I couldn’t put a cogent thought together for a solid 72 hours after the race. Immediately after the race, hubs asked me a question, and I’m told the answer was in some form of gibberish. I don’t recall that moment.
 
So: perfect storm. #1) Fried from day job due to not much help and maintaining a massive patient load and up at night doing deliveries #2) Fried from writing job due to crippling self-doubt plus the Sisyphean task to suddenly pivot and self-publish my work and #3) Fried from emptying the physical reserve tanks far below E.
 
All those pithy self-help articles on burnout don’t really have a chapter that covers what to do when you blow through reserves in every aspect of your life ALL AT ONCE. The past two weeks have been a muddy, numb blur. Week #1, I couldn’t run, and focused on getting through work without making a mistake or sleeping through a hospital call. Week #2, felt guilty for not running and started to run (ouch) and felt guilty for not doing more with the writing stuff, even though my thinker still wasn’t thinking clearly and my "create-or" wasn't creating at all. To be fair, the home stretch of this last book felt like running through muddy quicksand. And I’m sure the 4 labor/deliveries and 2 emergent c-sections that week didn’t help the ability to buckle down, complete that final edit, and set up all the metadata/ad copy etc.
 
So what’s a gal to do? Luckily, I’m currently Far Far Away on a serendipitously timed vacation. But all the stuff I planned to do while on vacation? Nothing’s happening. Nothing is working. Everything is numb. I’m sitting and staring out the windows and cannot read or write or even think. The usual pep is gone. I spent the first 2 days remembering how to sleep for 8 hours at a time without compulsively checking my phone to see if I missed a hospital call.
 
Even just opening up a book to read for fun is too much effort. The idea of outlining another manuscript and starting to write it? Haha. And thank the lord above I don’t have to care for another human being for another 2 weeks. That would be an abject disaster and maybe a little dangerous.
 
The one area that brings relief and has started to fill up those tanks? Supportive hubs and family, of course. Supportive coworkers who are doing their level best to take as much of the Day Job workload off my shoulders. The supportive writing/medicine community on social media and IRL.
 
Most importantly, it’s the recognition of the state I’m in that gives me power over it. Maybe I can’t get super productive in the next few weeks, but I have the support and tools to get back to normal brain/creative mind/physical state. At some point soon, I hope to get back to baseline multitasking ability (that is to say: "functionally hypomanic") and back in the swing of things.