6 Writing Updates

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Rather than post a short update on the News page I decided to post more details here today.

1. I plan to complete my current revision of The Bow of Destiny by the end of the month to send to my editor for structural and then detailed editing.

2. I’m currently in discussions with an artist about the cover design for The Bow of Destiny. I hope to share more details during October and announce a cover reveal date.

3. I was honored by Rave Reviews Book Club to have the “The Black Bag” chosen for their PUSHTUESDAY via Twitter last week – many thanks to those who supported me and bought copies of The Black Bag

4. I’m planning a price reduction for The Black Bag during the month of October so check back for more details. However, if you want the book sooner than that you can receive a coupon for a free copy (for any e-book format) to download from Smashwords. You know you want to whet your appetite for some early Halloween reading ! Sign-up today for the free download!

Available at Amazon, Smashwords and All Major E-Book Vendors!

Available at Amazon, Smashwords and All Major E-Book Vendors!

5. I’m submitting a short story this week. If it is accepted anywhere I’ll be sure to post the news everywhere so keep checking my feeds for announcements. I’m also working on several other short stories for submission as well. Check my Short WIP page for story titles.

6. I’ve hosted several book blog tours over the last month so check those out and support those authors.

Thanks for reading and supporting. Everyone is welcome to leave comments and questions.

“SPOTLIGHT” Author Blog Tour: Best Laid Plans

  Hi! I’m Tamie Dearen—wife, mother, grandmother, dentist, Jesus-lover, musician, composer, and author (as of 2013). I’ve published four books and a novella in The Best Girls Series, and one Young Adult Fantasy, Alora: The Wander-Jewel. As a relatively new author, I’ve found Rave Reviews Book Club to be a great resource for information and a wonderful place for mutual support.

This is an excerpt from The Best Girls.


Best Laid PlansBest Laid Plans: Book Three of The Best Girls Series


“Charlie, I don’t understand why you won’t even give me a chance.” Josh tried to catch her eyes as he spoke, but they darted away as if his gaze had burned her corneas. She held herself away from him, her posture rigid, even as they swayed together on the dance floor.

“We’re just too different, Josh. We live in different states. We have different dreams. We have different beliefs and values. You believe in casual sex, and that’s fine for you. But I’m the absolute opposite of that. Can’t you see? There’s no hope.”

“There’s no hope because you refuse to allow it. I’m changing. I’ve already changed. I’m not the same man that you met six months ago, but you won’t give me an opportunity to prove it.”

“Why are you trying to change into something different just to please me? You were fine and happy before you met me. There were obviously lots and lots of women who liked you just the way you were. Why try to change into something you’re not?” She tried to pull away, but he firmed his grasp at her waist and hand.

“But that’s the thing. I wasn’t fine and happy before I met you. I was miserable and I didn’t even know it. And now I’ve met you, so I know I could be really happy if I changed and you loved me. But you won’t give me a chance, so I’m still miserable.”

“You’re saying that meeting me took you from being blissfully ignorant about how miserable you were to consciously aware of how miserable you are?”

“You’re twisting my words.” He ground his teeth together, searching for something to say, anything to break through her barriers. “Charlie . . . Don’t you miss me, even a little? Don’t you ever think about that kiss?”

She was quiet for a moment, “Josh . . . Okay, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t physically attracted to you. There. Are you happy? But . . . But that’s not enough to build a relationship on.”

His mind was spinning. This was his moment, his only opportunity. She’d finally at least admitted to an attraction. If that was all he had to work with, he’d have to improvise. “So physically, you could see yourself being married to me? I mean, if I was a different guy with this body and this face, you could love me?”

Her face was so red, he thought she might be in pain, “I .  . That’s . . . Okay, yes, I mean, if you were someone else. But—”

“What’s he like? This other guy? This someone else that you’re going to marry someday?”

“I . . . Honestly, I don’t think he exists. I don’t think there’s a guy that I’m willing to give up all my independence for. I don’t really need a guy, anyway.”

“But if he did exist, what would he be like?”

Charlie let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know. I don’t spend time thinking about it.” Josh peered into her huge golden eyes and saw her pupils dilate. She gave her head a shake as if to clear it. “I guess he’d be a partner. I don’t need someone to take care of me like a parent. And . . . He’d have some kind of cool job, like, I don’t know . . . Maybe he’d be a fireman. Someone brave and adventurous who helps people. Not someone who spends his whole life working to make more money. And he’d be the kind of guy who only wanted to be with one woman for the rest of his life. I don’t want to constantly think I’m being compared with someone else—and probably coming up short.”

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating her words. “Thank you. At least I understand what you want, and how you see me.” He heard his voice crack and turned his face away, embarrassed. The hope that had bloomed in his chest died a little at the truth of her assessment.

“Josh, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault. You hit closer to home than you realize. That’s pretty much who I was, but not who I am and not who I intend to be.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, whistling between his lips. “But let me ask you just one thing. You don’t think you could ever love a doctor? Not even an adventurous doctor who wanted to help people?”


Charlie felt her face reddening again. She had so little control around this man. It was one of the reasons he made her feel so uncomfortable. When he’d asked her the first question, she’d tried to come up with a description he couldn’t possibly fit. It probably wasn’t even true. She had no idea who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with or who she could ever be in love with. She only knew that her attraction to Josh made her lose the ability to think logically. When she was with him, she always lost the upper hand. And she needed that advantage to compete. What was she supposed to say to his question now that he was making it specific? What was a safe thing to say?

She was distressed to find that tears were flooding her eyes. What on earth was wrong with her? She blinked furiously, but a few escaped onto her cheeks. “I don’t know.” She pulled her hand away, trying to escape before he noticed her crying.

“Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

He drew her against him, wrapping his arms around her. Suddenly, the floodgates broke. She’d been working so hard to be independent and not accept any financial assistance from Steven. But her workload, along with classes and studying, had been overwhelming. And she felt so alone and isolated in Colorado while her mom and sister were across the country in New York City. But she didn’t want to admit it to anyone. She hated admitting she was wrong—she’d always hated it. She’d been so incredibly stressed, but hadn’t wanted to share it. She didn’t want to burden her pregnant mom or her sister who was planning a wedding. Now, enveloped in the Josh’s arms, she realized how much she missed feeling cared for and comforted. The tears kept coming, even while she tried desperately to stop them.

He led her back to her chair and handed her a clean napkin. Then he knelt down in front of her, and gazed into her eyes. She noticed for the first time that his deep green eyes had little flecks of blue in them.

“Charlie. I’m not going to do this to you anymore. I love you, and I want to be with you. But I want you to be happy even more. I can’t stand that I made you cry. I’m really sorry. I won’t bother you any more. Just, please . . .” He made a strangled sound in his throat and dropped his eyes. “If you ever change your mind, please come find me.”

Tamie author picHe leaned in to brush his lips lightly against hers, and then he was gone.

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What is Needed, Part 5

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Photo used in The Bow of Destiny book trailer

Author’s Note: This is the conclusion of Part 2 of the prequel blog serial entitled “What is Needed”. Click on these links to read Part 1, Part 2 (first section)Part 2 (Conclusion)Part 3 and Part 4 This series is a companion to The Bow of Destiny (Part 1 of The Bow of Hart Saga) as expanded writing samples for the current Indiegogo campaign for the novel. The events of the blog series pre-date those of The Bow of Destiny by several hundred years but include several long-lived characters who appear in the forthcoming novel. Please read this post and consider supporting the fundraiser. To learn more about The Bow of Destiny campaign click the provided link. This material is copyrighted and not intended for reproduction except at the author’s consent.


What is Needed (Part 5)

by P. H. Solomon

Their chains clanked and scraped the stone floor as the three of them moved.

Zelma’s resolve slipped into weeping while she clung to Hastra’s hand. “How are we alive?”

“I don’t know.” Hastra touched her blood-stained dress and the hole where the Kregen stabbed her. She ran her finger along the line of her mortal wound but found no blood. Best not probe that further. She withdrew her hand and squeezed Zelma’s with the other.

Howart cleared throat. “It’s the prophecy. We live because of it.”

“Why not the others then?” Hastra chewed her lower lip.

Beyond Zelma, Howart’s chains rattled. “What is needed is given.”

Hastra mumbled the response with Zelma. “But what has been given besides life? We are chained in darkness and useless here.”

“We must wait and see.”

“Perhaps.” He’s got a better grasp of this than me. We may be waiting for the rats to chew us to the bone. She shuddered. Does my heart beat? Will I live through the pain of rat bites? She squeezed Zelma’s hand again. Better not mention that to her.

As the time passed, Hastra dozed several times and lost track of time. Once she awoke to rat’s fur brushing her ankle. She kicked with both feet. The rat squealed and it pattered away.

Zelma gasped at Hastra’s commotion. “What’s that?”

“Nothing, just woke from a dream.”

“I heard something running on the floor.”

Hastra jumped as Howart’s deeper voice boomed in the silence. “There are rats in here.”

Zelma’s chains rattled as she pulled her feet closer.

After that Hastra sat awake and waited for the rat to return. Teeth gnawed on boards in the darkness and matched her hunger pangs. At least, I still get hungry. She rubbed her raw wound inside her dress. Better than the alternative.

Later, the door’s lock snicked open and woke Hastra. Light shined around the edges of the door. They’ve brought us food or come to drag us before Kregen again. Wait, that’s no flickering torch. Her leg-irons scraped on the floor when she stirred and a rat squealed as it scrabbled away.

Howart and Zelma woke with groans as the door opened. Hastra squinted at the glow and her eyes watered. A figure in shadow stepped into the doorway. Her chains clicked and fell open. She gasped as the figure with the wide-brimmed hat waved them to the door.

Zelma leaned close grasped Hastra’s arm. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”

Hastra patted her sister’s trembling hand and opened her mouth to speak. The hat – he’s the one who healed me. “I think we should follow.”

Howart kicked his chains away. “Who is it? Why should we follow.”

“First, he’s got a light. Second, he let us loose and third, he healed my leg several months ago.” Hastra struggled to her feet and her knees wobbled.

The stranger moved into the passage beyond the room and the light faded as he walked away.

Howart stumbled to the door. “Hurry, he’s leaving.”

Hastra and Zelma leaned against each other and followed. They stepped into the hall as their rescuer turned a far corner. The three Withlings hobbled after the light past broken doors and intersecting passages that stretched into brooding darkness.

They arrived at the stairwell out of the lower cellar and Howart paused. “This isn’t the way out. It’s back up to Kregen and trolls. Should we risk it?”

Zelma climbed a few steps before she turned back. “Maybe they are gone and this man came to free us.”

Hastra followed her sister. “Stay in the dark but I think we have no other choice.”

They gained the upper cellar and drew near the stair to the keep when the noise of trolls echoed from above them.

Howart stretched his thin arm in the sisters way. “Still here. Where’s he leading us, back to them?”

The man’s light faded and then grew brighter. He waved to them. “Come, it’s safe. There’s food for you.”

Hastra shrugged to Howart and pushed past his out-flung arm. “Think how he set us free without keys. I’m following him. Anyway, he says there’s food.”

Hastra scurried on the stair and the other’s feet scuffed on the stone behind her. We need the food soon. I’m going to faint without it. She touched the rent in her dress where Kregen’s knife-blade killed her. There’s too many miracles in this since that moment.

The Withlings gained the main level the hustled after the man in the wide-brimmed hat. Lumps lay in the shadows of the unlit main hall.

Hastra’s gaze touched the hand at the moment Zelma gasped and wept. They’re dead, all the Withlings are dead. Fixed stares greeted Hastra wherever she whirled.

Zelma covered her mouth with her hands. Howart gaped and his eyes bulged from their deep hollows. They wound through the hacked bodies until they stood by the door to the dining hall where trolls hooted and snarled.

Their rescuer waved his arm into the room. “Eat, take what you need. When you finish I will show you out.”

Hastra whispered in spite of the din from the trolls. “But we’ll be seen. They’ll kill us.”

The man in the hat pointed to a table where no trolls sat. “I have everything you need prepared. Go on.”

She glanced at her companions and their doubtful expressions. He set us free without keys. Hastra peeked into the dining hall. The trolls fought and laughed, their tusks and fangs flashed in the light. I’ll run if they notice me. She sighed and stepped through the doorway.

The trolls never noticed her. Hastra lowered her head and scurried toward the table laden with food. Around her trolls howled their vile glee but none of them even glanced her way.

At the table Hastra snatched food without thinking and shoved it in her mouth. She chewed and groaned. Howart and Zelma soon joined her and they ate their fill. Howart found sacks into which they shoved the excess for provisions. They returned to the doorway and the man in the hat.

“Follow me.”

Hastra bent and cocked her head as their rescuer strode past her. I never can quite see his face. She hefted her bag and walked behind the sight of his brown coat and hat.

The man in the hat led them to the chapel. Benches and chairs lay overturned and they picked their way through the ruined room.

Their rescuer kicked a pile of broken wood and pointed to a leather-bound book lying spine up and open. He cocked his head to Hastra. “You must take this burden. Write the prophecy in it and all your visions.”

Hastra stumbled through the refuse, knelt and gathered the book to her breast. She blinked tears and nodded. I know him know. She wiped her sorrow from her cheeks.

“Time to leave.” The man in the hat left the chapel and the three surviving Withlings trailed after him.

They followed out the front door but turned to a postern gate down the wall.

Hastra blinked under the gray sky and the brushed her hair across her face. Clean air. She sucked in a long breath. At the gate Hastra paused with her companions.

The man in the hat pushed the gate open. “Go to the old tower if you still serve as Withlings.”

They shuffled out the gate. Here the chill wind snapped their tattered cloaks and bit their faces. Hastra hobbled on the narrow trail beyond the walls of Withling’s Watch.

Zelma’s voice rang in the gusts. “He’s gone. Who was he?”

Hastra cocked her head at the gate and motioned to her sister and Howart. “Come, we’ve a mission to fulfill now. Maybe we’ll see him again.” It’s just us now. “What is needed is given.”

End of Part 4 (Part 5 will be posted on 9/2)

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