Life as Amber knows it

On Monday, November 24, 2008, I wrote a blog post, commemorating the fact that it was my last night as a mother pregnant with one daughter with one on the cusp of turning four years old.

I didn’t write again for over two and a half years.  And it was one of the gravest mistakes of my life.

I can give you what I thought were reasons, but really were just excuses: I was tired.  I had two kids.  I was suffering from postpartum depression and anxiety. My father had a horrible fall that resulted in a several months hospital and subsequent rehabilitation stay.

To quote my favorite editor, “BULLSHIT”.

You see, what really was going on was more than just me letting go of my writing, which is one of the greatest passions in my life.  I write, because I quite simply cannot stop.  Writing is essential to my soul, as essential to me as the air that I breathe, the water I drink, the food I eat, and my children who I carried within me for nine months and love with every fiber of my being.  What really happened in those 30 months of no-writing or so, was simple: I forgot who I was at my core, and let go of it.

“You have a gift; do not waste it. Write every day even if its only the words, ‘I have nothing to write,'” Those parting words, the greatest advice I’ve ever been given, were said to me on the last day of ninth grade English class.  And I followed that advice faithfully until the birth of my second daughter.

I think that the real reason I quit writing was shame.  You see, I was ashamed of the fact that I fell so easily into the trap that so many women do when they become mothers, whether for the first time, the second, or the fifth. While motherhood will always and forever be the very most important job I’ll ever hold, and its a job title I take very seriously and am grateful for, I forgot a very simple fact: I existed before motherhood.

Before motherhood, I wore snakeskin pants and biker boots. I could drink everyone under the table and still walk a strait line. I went out dancing with friends. I’d stay up all night, writing poetry, some good, some bad, some phenomenal. I’d have all-night, fall-off-the-bed sex. I laughed loudly and often.  I didn’t just sing along with the radio, I screamed the lyrics as loudly as I could. I almost finished writing a novel about my search for my biological mother. I had my nose, tongue and naval pierced. I had six tattoos (those, I am very happy to report, are still with me). I’d watch dawn break through the clouds at Denny’s.  I worked my ass off at jobs, not because they paid well, but because I was blessed with a boss that was wonderful. I’d meet random strangers at bars, and we’d close the bar down, telling one another our stories, and then find an all night coffee bar to continue on with the intellectual intercourse. I’d go car surfing.

But when motherhood came, in all its miraculous glory, I traded who I was for the identity of “Mommy”. Loving your children passionately, loving your children more than yourself, loving your children enough to lay your life down for them: That’s the job description. But forgetting that you are still you is not.  It’s a betrayal of yourself.

For those 30 months I did not write, I put everyone ahead of myself, sometimes at the risk of my own health, both physically and spiritually. I did all the laundry, I did all the dishes, I made sure dinner was on the the table every evening. I stopped seeing friends, stopped writing, stopped seeing myself as anything other than “Mommy”. Everything I did revolved around my life as a mother.

I lost myself.

A little over a year ago, I began talking with authors on Twitter.  And a shift happened.  I began writing again. And then I began talking with even more authors on Twitter.  When I timidly mentioned I had an idea for a book, I received the same response: “Quit talking, start writing.”  And so I did. Occasionally, I’d work on my book, but mainly, I began writing more frequently in my blog, and asking other authors to look at what I had written and give me their opinion.

In October 2011, I asked my friend Barry Crowther if he would mind looking at some of my poetry to give me his opinion. His opinion? Send him more of my poetry, and let him help me get off my ass and publish it.  He also gave me the chance to guest post on his blog, not once, but twice. 

In early January of this year, Barry Crowther emailed me and told me I was ready to go.  I spent several hours, my hand hover my mouse over the publish button before I finally gained the courage.

And people bought the book.

Which led me to write to an author and tell him how very much his book had helped me through a particularly rough spot in my personal life, simply by being a much needed distraction.  And the courage I gained from people buying my book, reading it, and reviewing it positively led me to ask this writer for his opinion on my work.  Which he gave honestly.  He’s now one of my closest friends, editors, and one of the biggest boots in my ass when I’m spouting off excuses instead of writing.

I’ve published four books since “Color of Dawn” came out in January, and a total of four erotica singles. I’ve started a podcast that is the highlight of my week, every single week I do it, and I love every moment of it (except the “Days of the Week”… Someone PLEASE, I’m begging you, say that you hate them!) I’ve met new friends, and been given opportunities to be interviewed on other podcasts, guest blog, and collaborate on projects.

And I have found myself again.  At age thirty-five, I’ve found myself, and most importantly, I have found my voice.

I am Amber Jerome~Norrgard. While I may no longer drink people under the table, I go out with friends occasionally and have a few drinks. I’m the person you see in the car next to you dancing and singing along to the radio. My laugh has inspired a drinking game with the listeners of my podcast. I write furiously, daily, like an addict. I love my children passionately, and spend time with them, but I also take time that is solely for me, that has nothing to do with me as a mother. I have a group of friends who own pieces of my heart, and while they are spread out all over the world, I wouldn’t change the fact that they are in my life as fully as they are. I write erotica, and it makes me uncomfortable, and I publish it still, because I believe that its necessary to my art to push myself as far as I can. I stay up all night writing or editing my work, or assembling my work into books to be published.

I am a mother, wife, lover, friend, daughter, sister, aunt, godmother, sister in law, the “queen of the obscene”, a poet, an author.

I am all those things.  But most importantly, I am me, and I am finally home.

~Amber Jerome~Norrgard

For three days, Friday, August 17th- Sunday, August 19th, my erotic short story, “James” will be FREE on amazon.com

“James” holds a bit of a special place in my heart, since it was the first erotica I wrote…. Since then, I’ve written five erotic short stories, as well as two erotic poems, and have complied them into a collection called “Wanting”.  And while writing (and publishing) my erotica has always made me uncomfortable, still, I continue on, because it makes me uncomfortable, and forces me out of my natural genre, and I’m able to push myself as a writer, and see exactly how far I am able to go.  So be a sweet-heart, and click click click this Friday, Saturday and Sunday…. Really, all I’m asking for is a few moments of your time to go to Amazon.com and get my erotic short story for free…. You can’t beat that deal, even if you tried.  Click here to get “James” FREE this weekend and help me hit my goal of #1 in the erotica genre on Amazon.com’s bestseller’s list.

And in other news: Last Thursday, I published my fifth book, “My Beautiful Jewel, Book One of the Miracles Trilogy”.  “My Beautiful Jewel” was actually written in 2004, and is taken from my journal when I was pregnant with my daughter, Amethyst.  If you’ve read me, either in book or blog form, you know the story: I was diagnosed as infertile, but some how, against every possible odd that could have been stacked against me, I’ve been blessed with three miracles: my beautiful children.  “My Beautiful Jewel” is, like I said, about my pregnancy with my oldest daughter Amethyst, but is the first book in a set of three.  Book two will be about my attempts to conceive my second child as well as my pregnancy with my daughter Autumn, and book three will be about my pregnancy with my son Benjamin, and how I came to the decision to have a partial hysterectomy at the very young age of thirty-three.  You see, every day, no matter how bad my day is, no matter how big of a mess my children make, or how many loads of laundry I have to slog through, or how exhausted I am, there is one thing I do: and that is say a prayer of thanks for being so very blessed with three amazing, beautiful, and gloriously healthy children who steal my heart every time they smile at me.  I do not forget for one moment how incredibly lucky I am to have my three children.  So these books are essentially love letters to them, so that years from now, they can read over them, and truly know what Mommy was thinking when they were busy kicking my internal organs in alphabetical order and making me barf non-stop.  One bonus of writing “My Beautiful Jewel” was re-reading my pregnancy journal, and one hilarious bonus was remembering how anal-retentive I used to be in regards to organizing everything.  It’s amazing how much motherhood has changed me, all for the positive.  To buy “My Beautiful Jewel”, click here or click here.

Lots of love, huggles, and happy reading!

Amber Jerome~Norrgard

My Grandmother was born on August 7, 1899.  I will never forget the heartbreak I felt when my father told me she had passed away, four days before Christmas in 1996.

There are experiences we have in our lives, whether good or bad, that always stay with us.  Losing my Grandmother almost sixteen years ago is something I will never recover from.  She lived her life in complete and total good faith: faith in the love of her family, faith in the love of her friends, and most importantly, faith in God.  When faced with hardships: burying her husband, losing sons in wars, and burying her children who lost their battles with cancer, she never asked God “Why?” Instead, she simply asked him for the strength to bring her through it.

When I married for the first time at age nineteen, my Grandmother gave me a rosary as a wedding gift. To this day, I always carry it with me. Some links are broken, a corner of the crucifix is broken off, and still, it remains with me, just as she does.

I have tried for a few weeks now to write a poem in her honor.  But how can one write a poem, or write anything really, to sum up, to define, to explain how inspirational, how giving, how generous, how loving, and how beautiful the most inspirational person in our life was?  I have been asked countless times why I am such a positive, happy person after everything I have faced in my life.  The answer is quite simply because of the example my beloved Grandmother set for me.

I have been unable to write a poem for my Grandmother.  Instead, I found one that touched me, and made me think of her:

Light a candle, Missing you

Light a candle,
See it glow,
Watch it dance,
When you feel low,
Think of me,
Think of light,
I’ll always be here,
Day or night,
A candle flickers,
Out of sight,
But in your heart,
I still burn bright,
Think not of sadness,
That I’m not near,
Think of gladness,
And joyous cheer,
I have not left,
I am not gone,
I’m here to stay
My little one,
So when you light a candle
And you see it glow
And you watch it dance
In your heart you’ll know
That I would never leave you
Even when you feel so blue
I’m sitting up here with the Lord
And now watching over you
(Source: Light A Candle, Missing You Poem  www.FamilyFriendPoems.com)

She was a mother to fifteen children, and a grandmother to forty-two grandchildren. I could give you the number of great- and great-great- grandchildren, but that is a number that is still growing to this day.  She left behind a family that mourned her deeply, that was affected tremendously at her loss (almost sixteen  years after her passing,  as I’m writing this, I’m crying, wishing she were here with me), but that still gathers to celebrate the life that she lived, the example she set of how to truly live a life, and how to hold onto your faith, always.

She left behind a legacy of unconditional love that continues on, and will continue on with her spirit in each of us.

Happy Birthday Grandma. Not a day goes by that I do not think of you and all you have given to me.

~Amber Jerome~Norrgard

There’s a reason why “How I Make a Living in Writing” by Scott Morgan hit the bestseller’s list within twelve hours of being published: It’s a truly honest read. It felt more like I was meeting a friend for coffee than I was reading. True to form, Morgan keeps it honest and open, and rather than make promises or claims, the author gives you an in-depth look at how he went from being a film-school student to becoming a writing professional.  And rather than blowing sunshine up your butt with promises of what will work, Morgan instead tells the story of what worked to get him where he is today, leaving it to the reader to decide what similar avenues they themselves might take in their own writing lives.

Five stars for such an honest book, folks.  I’d like to point out here that anything other than honest writing?  Load of bullshit; in fact, that’s the quickest way for me to stop reading and go on to something else.

Buy “How I Make A Living In Writing” here.

Huggles, joy, and peace to you all,

Amber

Five or six weeks ago, my dear friend Justin Bog jokingly suggested I spend the month of July 2012 writing a poem a day and publishing it.  In truth however, Justin really meant that I should publish a poetry book a day in July.  Which leads me to believe that either Justin is a.)certifiably insane, or b.) has a overly high opinion of my abilities as a writer.  Either or, Justin’s suggestion tipped off and helped to give birth to an idea that had been rattling around my head for some time now: A new poetry collection.  In the Gloaming was an idea that would whisper to me once I published The Color of Dawn back in January of this year: a poetry or a poetry and short story collection.

I’ve written before about how writing erotica makes me uncomfortable, but yet I still write it, and I still publish it, because writing what makes me uncomfortable, and writing it well, pushes me as a writer.  If erotica makes me uncomfortable, writing about my emotions, full out and in completely wide open honesty causes me to squirm horribly.  I can write about painful experiences in my life, but I have always done it in a removed manner.  When I began writing In the Gloaming, I said, “Fuck it.”  I pulled previously unpublished poems that were written honestly, but I hadn’t been okay with releasing to be read. I looked at experiences, both past and present, placing them under a high-resolution microscope and just wrote the mother-fucker.  When I finished each poem, there were tears: either from joy, or from heart ache.

Initially, In the Gloaming was to have several fiction short stories included.  But the poetry began taking over: I’d think I was finished, but then inspiration would grab hold of me and would not let go until I finally scribbled the words that were playing over and over again in my head.  After a frustrating day, and then evening, with my writing, trying to finish one short story meant for the collection, I went for a long drive.  It hit me while driving around aimlessly, Lifehouse blasting away on the stereo, that the short stories were not meant for this work.  That the poetry had over taken everything else.

Last Monday, I sat down to write.  And when I finished the poem, I knew.  In the Gloaming was complete.  Ironically enough, the name of the poem was “Finally”.  After being given the okay by my good friend, Author Melissa Craig to use a gorgeous photograph she had taken as my cover, I emailed my younger sister, and asked her for her help in creating the cover.  She came through as she always does: She takes some simple, mundane idea of mine and turns it into a thing of beauty.

There were the usual last minute editing snafus.  And then there was an unusual experience where when I went to hit “publish” on KDP’s website, my house lost power.  But there was no anxiety, no fear at publishing something so raw and from my heart, so laid out bare and honest.

I hope that you find something that touches you in this latest work of mine.  I myself began finding my true self while writing it.

To purchase “In the Gloaming,” click here

I have surprised the hell out of myself over the past few months.

You see, I was pretty sure that my genre was in poetry and in the autobiographical arena.  Back in March, I saw someone on a motorcycle that reminded me of a former boyfriend from my early twenties.  Which inspired me to write, “James.”  When I began writing that particular short story, it began as a retelling of a lost love, and what happens when you do not ask the questions that need to be asked.  Instead, it turned into something I never thought I’d write: an erotica short story.  And I was shocked that I could actually write that genre.  After much going back and forth with several friends, asking their opinions, freaking out, having them talk me off the cliff I climbed up on, I hit publish.  I figured it was the one and only time I’d write something like that.  But a month after publishing “James” inspiration hit again.

I love it when that happens.

I’ve released two other erotica short stories since “James” went live, as well as two erotica poems.  Last Friday, I wrote the final short story, one that was a very hard and uncomfortable reach for me.  After editing and suggestions from a wonderful group of friends, I designed the cover, put the BAMF together, uploaded it to KDP, and hit publish last night.

Five short stories and two poems….

I’ve written before about music and the effect it has on me.  Well, music was the back drop for this work, so here are the songs that made up the soundtrack for “Wanting”:

“6 Under ground”, Sneaker Pimps

“Your winter”, Sister Hazel

“Your love takes me higher”, Sonique

“You won’t be mine”, Matchbox Twenty

“Just say yes”, Snow Patrol

“Stay the night”, Benjamin Orr

“Shape of my heart”, Sting

“Time after time”, Matchbox Twenty

“Desert Rose”, Sting, featuring Cheb Mami

“TIme of the season”, The Byrds

“Bittersweet symphony”, The Verve

“Sleeping satellite”, Tasmin Archer

“Like a stone”, Audioslave

To buy “Wanting, an erotica short story collection” click here.

And I have to give a huge shout out to my village for putting up with me during the writing and publishing process for reading, editing, suggesting, and making me laugh my ass off.  As always, I am thankful to: Justin Bog, Dionne Lister, Charity Parkerson, Scott Morgan, and my darling David Griffin.  Thank you five, immensely, for your constant support and love.

Peace and love….

Amber

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

I don’t care if you like Frank Herbert or hate his work: The above quote just proves the man was an absolutely genius (not to mention the fact that his work made it possible for the Sci Fi channel to have Edward Atterton almost naked on their version of “Children of Dune”).

I have lived my life in fear.  Fear has wrapped around me, covered me, been the air I have breathed, the food I have eaten, the water I have drank.  It has haunted my dreams.  It has tinted everything about me and has been the soul of my life.

No more.

A few nights ago, I was stuck on a short story I was writing.  Frustrated, I finally said, “Fuck it,” and went for a long drive, hoping that the music blaring on the stereo would disrupt my thought processes enough to reset them and I would be able to see what was holding me back on finishing the story.

Instead, I saw what was holding me back in my life from being truly happy.

I drove so far that I came to the connection on the highway to Texas 66, and I was so surprised to be that far out that I texted a friend to tell him.  Seeing that sign reminded me that I have always wanted to start at one point of the historical highway Route 66 and drive the entire thing from start to finish.  It was then that my bad bullshit started rising up in my mind as to why I could not take this trip that I have dreamed of doing for years.  All the reasons why it’s a bad idea, why I should not venture so far from home, how much work it would take to actually take the damn trip.

And a memory of a conversation with a dear friend the previous weekend took over in my mind, his words almost a blast of knowledge, sense, truth and reality: “It’s bullshit.  I do not care what has led up to it, but it is bullshit and you need to stop it NOW!”

My fear is bullshit.  I can see the pattern leading to the fear, and what experiences and heartaches have caused that fear.  While it is understandable, it is only acceptable for so long.

I have held back in fear and lost out on friends, lovers, life experiences.  The most devastating result of this is that I have not truly lived.  And I am finished with just existing, just breathing and just going through the motions.  This time in my life, this crossroads I am standing at leads either to a life filled with passion and joy and laughter or a life half-lived, supported by blandness and half breaths.

There will be set backs, and the fear will start creeping up on me again.  But I will be damned if I’m going to let it cloak me and blind me once more.

It is time for me to truly start living as I was meant to live: Balls to the wall, full throttle, and laughing my ass off the whole way.

And I will.

Peace, love, and belly laughs,

~Amber

A week ago, I had the honor of being interviewed by Melissa Craig and Charity Parkerson on their podcast.  When I was asked if I had any writer’s “quirks”, I had to laugh, because, boy do I ever.  The first is, I can’t seem to write poetry on a computer:  I have to write it in a notebook, and then transfer it to a word doc.  Which can be a bad thing at times, because I’ve actually lost some very amazing work this way.  The second is that I have different play lists on my music player that changes from project to project: When I was compiling “4 a.m.”, I had the same three songs on repeat; when I wrote “James”, it was the same three songs set on repeat.

If literature and writing, and anything in between those two things are my great creative loves, music is a very near second:  I played piano (quite well according to all the ribbons and awards I’ve won) for years, and had considered making music a career in some capacity for a brief time until an illness caused me to stop playing the piano.  I’ve taken up various instruments over the years as well as having spent years in the church choir, belting out whatever hymn was on the schedule.  Music grabs a hold of me, makes my heart race, brings me to tears, and inspires the hell out of me.  When Jeff Stalnaker, a friend, writer, and musician we interviewed on the TweepNation podcast took one of my poems and set it to music and then performed it on the podcast?  Jeff now holds the title of the first guest to make me cry and ask for a few moments to get myself together, I was that moved by what he had done.

So now that I’m working on a new poetry and fiction short story collection, I have a new playlist set on repeat while I write.  One of my two works in progress, “In the Gloaming”, is probably one of the heaviest pieces of work that I have ever written.  One piece in particular, I sent to my amazing editor with a note that said, “I cannot believe I wrote something that dark!”  And by heavy, I don’t just mean depressing and heart wrenching:  There will be a few poems in the book that I’ve written after being inspired by the love a few very dear friends have brought to my life.  At this crossroads point in my life, having the realization that these few amazing people love me so completely and unconditionally is astounding, and I am doing my best to not close off from it, which is my natural tendency when faced with strong emotions.

So here it is: The soundtrack for In the Gloaming… I won’t explain the reasoning behind each song, except to say that its relevant to what I’m writing and moves me in one way or another.

“Drive by”, Train

“Her eyes”, Pat Monahan

“Brighter than sunshine”, Aqualung

“Show me what I’m looking for”, Carolina Liar

“Half”, Tom G Mac

“Wasted days”, Highwater Rising

“A bad dream”, Keane

“Sunday morning”, Maroon 5

“Here we go”, Matt Kearney

“I saw”, “Run” and “Come on get higher”, Matt Nathanson

“Ever the same”, Rob Thomas

“Stop”, Matchbox Twenty

“Your winter”, Sister Hazel

“Missing person”, Michael W. Smith

“Healing” and “She is his only need”, Wynonna

“All in”, “Sick Cycle Carousel”, “Spin”, and “Halfway gone”, Lifehouse

Much love to you,

Amber

You probably know the back story to this if you’ve read me for any length of time: February 2011, I received a Kindle as a gift, and within two months, I discovered my first Indie Author: John Locke.  I wrote Locke after reading two or three of his books to tell him how much I enjoyed them, and was pleasantly surprised when he actually returned the email, not with some form letter that’s automatically sent when you email the person in question, but with an actual real email.  I had a Twitter account at the time, but hadn’t really done anything other than follow a few random friends, movie stars who’s work I truly enjoy, and a few musicians.  I began following Locke not too long after I emailed him, and thus, my life would change forever.

It was either Russell Blake or Barry Crowther that followed me not too long after.  After seeing that they (and by they, I mean either Russell or Barry) were authors, I checked out their book on amazon.com.  It looked interesting, so I bought it, and about half an hour later, I was glued to my kindle.  I then checked out which ever one I hadn’t checked out before on amazon.com, and oh wow, interesting book description, I think I’ll try their book as well!  And again, glued to my kindle.  After reviewing both their books, I formed friendships with both writers.

And so on and so forth.  I’d be followed by, or I’d follow, an Indie Author, read their work, LOVE the incredible work that they had out on e-book or on their blogs and websites, write a review, let the author in question know how much I enjoyed their work, and the next thing you know?  We’ve exchanged emails, I’ve asked them to look at my work and give me their opinion, and the best part of it, is I made some very excellent friendships.

The people on the list below are all friends, yes.  But before they were friends?  They were Authors I looked up to and admired due to their amazing, honest, and truly talented work.  Now that I myself have jumped into the Indie Author arena, its a blessing to have them pushing me as well as pulling for me, and in a few cases, helping me with my work, whether as a beta reader, an editor (or two), or a whip cracker (or three… ouch!).

John Locke: The initial author that gave me a glimpse at how excellent Indie Authors truly are, Locke’s work has broken records repeatedly.  I myself find his writing excellent, and BONUS: its comical and down right dirty sometimes.  A girl enjoys a damn good read, and if you’re a girl like me?  Sometimes you need a bit of comical filth to get your mind off diapers, laundry, and your own writing that’s still sitting there, staring at you on the screen saying, “write me already!”  You can check out his books here and you can read his blog here

Russell Blake: Come on, you knew his name was going to be on this list.  Russell Blake not only is hysterically funny with his tweets, his blog is excellent, not only dealing with writing, but with real issues that make you think, and it does not matter if he’s writing a parody, a heart-wrenching and heart-breaking memoir, or one of his 14 novels, he is one hell of an excellent writer.  That’s right: 14 novels, which were put out in the space of 12 months.  Can your favorite Indie Author do that?  You can check out Blake’s books here and view his website here.

Melissa Craig: I knew of Melissa when I first interviewed her in March of 2012 on the TweepNation podcast, but I didn’t know her.  After the podcast, I adored her.  And after reading her book, Plentiful Package, I learned that even though I’m totally strait?  Melissa knows how to get anyone going, guy or girl.  I’ve had the good fortune to be a guest on her podcast twice, and each time, I laughed so hard my stomach muscles were sore.  Her next book is due out within the next few weeks (Melissa, please correct me if I’m wrong on that one!), and I am dying to read it.  Check out Melissa’s blog here and her amazon.com author’s page here

Claude Bouchard: Claude is the champion at final lines that make me say, “Whoa… holy shit!  Sooooo did not see that one coming!”  And with over 250,000 followers on twitter, the fact that Claude takes the time to read my work occasionally and give kind feedback, as well as taking the time to banter back and forth with me?  It would give any reader a huge ego boost.  Out of his seven books, I’ve enjoyed all seven, and am anxiously awaiting his next novel.  Claude is also very grateful for his fans, which is obvious in his “The CeeBee Crew” club (I myself have been a very proud member since August 8, 2011), a page on his website solely dedicated to his readers that are the most supportive.  He is also the reason why I can take five minutes and breathe occasionally, due to his excellent rendition of U2’s Desire, a you tube video that is very much loved by my 3.5 and 2 year old daughter and son.  Check out his excellent work here and his excellent website here.

Justin Bog: One of the great loves, and great friends, of my life, I absolutely fell in love with Justin’s incredible writing last fall. Despite my incredible capacity for very filthy language, Justin is one of my greatest supporters, and I in return love his work and have no problem shouting from the roof tops how excellent he is.  His first compilation, Sandcastle and Other Stories came out earlier this year, and I was one of the lucky few to get an early copy to read and review.  If Sandcastle is any indication of what’s to come?  You’re going to want to watch and read Justin from now on.  Get his book here and read his blog here.

Jason McIntyre: Another writer very guilty of keeping me up way too late at  night with his excellent talent for description and pulling the reader into the world he creates using only his words, Jason McIntyre is another favorite of mine.  I have yet to be disappointed with anything he has published, and I enjoy his work so thoroughly, I’ve read it more than once.  My two favorite McIntyre novels?  Thalo Blue and The Gathering Storm. McIntyre is so talented, you can actually feel and smell the grass he writes about in his novels. You can get his books here and you can check out his website here.

Dionne Lister: My better half on both Facebook and our podcast TweepNation with Amber and Dionne, Dionne and I became friends after bantering back and forth on another author’s thread on Twitter last November.  The first person to ever give me a review, she is also one of my dearest friends, and one of my favorite people, even though she’s rude enough to live a 22 hour plane trip away.  She has scared me silly with her short fiction work, and I was thrilled when her first novel, Shadows of the Realm finally went live in April of this year.  You can get her book here and you can get scared silly yourself here.

Scott Morgan: Another great friend and another huge supporter of me and my work, I read Scott’s Short Stack while waiting on doctors after a health issue kept my dad in the hospital over Christmas 2011.  If you don’t read short stories, you’re missing out.  With nothing but five-star reviews in the Amazon Kindle Store, Morgan is an Author worth his weight in gold.  An editor, proof-reader, writer, and teacher, Scott is a man of many talents, as well as using his vast knowledge of the writing and publishing field to teach people via his website’s videos, his webinars and his workshops.  I recently was lucky enough to attend a workshop he gave in the DFW area, and I can tell you, if you have a chance to see him speak?  Go, you’ll definitely learn something.  If you don’t get a chance to see him speak, head on over to his website, you’ll learn something.  You can get Scott’s books here and you can see his website (along with webinar sign up and videos) here.

Barry Crowther: The man responsible for introducing me to David Peace and 1974 (as well as the subsequent novels), Barry is also the man who gave me the kick in the ass that helped me realize my dream of becoming a published author. After asking him to read some of my work, Barry told me to get the rest of it together, email it to him, and he’d help me format the book that would later on become “The Color of Dawn”. He may say it was all me? But he’s wrong; without his help, those poems would still be sitting in my computer, not being read.  You can check out Barry’s own excellent work here as well as his website here.

and last but not least, my gorgeous twitter wife:

Charity Parkerson:  Charity, Charity, ohhhhh Charity!  A kick-ass author, Charity has won so many awards, it would take a blog post of it’s own to get them all listed.  Suffice it to say, she is so incredible in her work that she keeps me up at night, and when I recommend her erotica novels and short stories to friends, I always tell them to make sure they pick up a pack of cigarettes as well, because they’re going to need a smoke post-read.  As well as being an exceptional author, my Twitter Wife and a dear friend, Charity is also the head of her own publishing company, Punk & Sissy Publications.  You can pick up Charity’s smokin’ novels and short stories here and you can check out her website here.

Wait, why are you still here reading me? I just listed 10 Indie Authors that kick-ass and are exceptional… Click Click Click!!! You’re missing out!

lots of love,

Amber