Finding Time is dedicated to all parents, but especially to mothers who lose their way. As a mother to four children, I know the trials and tribulations.
What happened to the spark? Ten years of marriage and four children later, Eliza Prince had no idea. She pursed her lips, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at her children’s tiny faces. Her eldest daughter held a mutinous glare. Her youngest son hollered and whined, attempting to garner her attention. The two middle children argued over Netflix on the computer.
Eliza sighed; a bone deep, soul aching, exhale of breath. Who was she? When did her needs meld into the background, gainsaid by the needs of her family? She peered out the window, as her husband, Jett, pulled into the driveway of their modest home. She listened to the squeals of excitement when she yelled, “Daddy’s home!” above the incessant yapping, capturing their attention. They bolted towards the door, exuberance in every step. Eliza fled to the sanctuary of her bedroom, collapsing on the bed in defeat.
She lay face down, fingering the soft wool comforter, and listened to the riotous laughter echoing through the walls. No doubt Jett wrestled with the munchkins. Every day when he came home from work, he played with the children. Her kids were lucky. She knew that. Her own father lacked the ability to play. Eliza grew up the child of an alcoholic, with a mother who shielded her two children the best she could. Eliza’s father never abused them. He never hit them, though he yelled. The disregard hurt the most.
Eliza grew up far too early. Her younger brother, born premature at twenty-nine weeks, required constant care. At four years old, Eliza knew CPR, and how to run an apnea monitor. She learned to tickle her brother’s feet to stimulate her brother’s heart and lungs if the alarm beeped.
Eliza was never a child. She didn’t have imaginary friends. She lacked in playmates because her brother’s wellbeing came first, and her mother was frazzled, being a single parent. No, her parents had never divorced, but her father avoided taking an active interest in Eliza or her brother. That left her mother to do the work of both mother and father.
She shook her head, trying to clear the maudlin thoughts. Where did they come from? She hadn’t thought about her childhood in a long time. She strained her ears and listened to the squawking. Even though Eliza was down in the dumps, her lips turned up at the unfiltered joy coming from her children. Her family was her everything. She’d do anything for her husband and kids.
Even repress her sexuality.
Obviously, she and Jett had sex. A few times a week if they were lucky. Finding time for each other became a battle. Harder than she’d ever imagined.
The decision to start a family was easy. It felt right. They’d been married almost two years, both had successful jobs, and owned a home. When their daughter Rose joined the fray, the sun shone brighter, and her laughter filled Eliza and Jett’s ears with love. When they found Rose to be a terrible sleeper, they shrugged it off. They didn’t listen to anyone else’s advice about parenting. Eliza and Jett did what felt right to them. If Eliza’s libido took a hit because of the sleep deprivation and constant nursing, they dealt with it, each in their own way.
Rose had turned nine months old, and Eliza had had enough. She couldn’t work full-time, be up all night, and take care of the household.
Something had to give.
The logical choice was her career. A career Eliza loved and took pride in. A career that made her cry every day because a stranger raised her daughter, instead of her. After talking with Jett, they decided to sell their large Painted Lady, and buy a smaller, more practical home. That way Eliza could stay home and raise the kids herself. Both Jett and Eliza wanted more children.
Sara came next, born when Rose neared two years old, Sara entered the world and brought more joy. And chaos. Another newborn needed constant affection and handling, but Eliza didn’t relay on other people. She never went out. Instead, she and Jett chose to stay home and parent their kids. Jett grew up without a father and determined early on he would always be around for his children. He’d give them all the attention he missed out on. Jett showered the girls with love and affection; he played with them, took them on car rides looking for deer in the fields, and snuggled with them on the couch.
Eliza never thought she’d be jealous of her husband and children’s relationship, but she was, though she tried to never let it show. Deep down, she understood his need to constantly prove he was a good father. But she harbored resentment towards her husband and, by proxy, her girls.
She wasn’t a woman in her husband’s eyes any longer, becoming a mother, and only a mother.
Over the next few years they added two boys, and the family went from four to six with the chaos multiplying. Eliza didn’t have time for Jett, but he worked hard to provide for the family and he came home exhausted. Most evenings he slept in the living room so the baby didn’t wake him up all night long. Since he worked and she didn’t, the arrangement seemed fair, but weighed on her heart. She woke up lonely most mornings.
Eliza harbored more resentment. She struggled waking up every two hours with the baby, while potty training her three year old son. Though Rose and Sara went to school, all of the family stress had killed her sexual side for so long, it barely existed anymore.
Her body changed throughout the baby rearing years, leaving her shy and uncomfortable in her skin. Jett told Eliza he loved her, and her body, but she didn’t believe him. One of her breasts was larger than the other from years of nursing. She had road maps to buried treasure written on her skin. She dressed frumpy; her attire consisted of a two pairs of jeans and six pairs of flannel pajama pants. On any given day, she’d be lucky to shower. How could her husband be turned on by her?
She withdrew and stopped caring.
She forgot how to be sexual. She forgot how to flirt. She couldn’t even remember the last time Jett grabbed her and thrust her against a wall, kissing her senseless like he did when they were young. Propriety was their game now. God forbid the children see them ravish each other.
So Jett grew accustomed to nights on the couch, and Eliza, well, she cuddled with the baby—who claimed the whole bed, leaving her a sliver of sleeping space. She missed the tangled legs of a lover and being enfolded in embracing arms. Eliza missed the heat.
She lived on the cusp of breakdown. Her life floated around her, as she morphed from driver to passenger, finally landing in the back-seat of her boring existence.
Fifteen minutes later, vexed and horny, Eliza gave up waiting for Jett to come find her. She closed her eyes, lifted her ass in the air so she could slide her hand under and down the front of her jeans, and she stroked herself. She fantasized…
She waited just inside the bedroom as Jett sauntered in behind her and shut the door. He locked it before he turned to face her, walking to invade her space. He continued to force her to either stand her ground or retreat.
He stepped forward. She stepped back. Ten paces later her back hit the wall. Jett’s gaze never left hers. His eyes smoldered and made her think of glittering emeralds under a dark sky. They entranced her. He extended his arms and caged her inside his warm, masculine body. Eliza shivered with desire. He licked his lips, and Eliza watched his tongue dart out. She wanted to taste him.
“I’ve been looking for you, love.”
Eliza wet her lips, voice throaty as she replied, “I’ve been in here. Waiting for you.”
“The kids are busy. Get undressed.”
Eliza swallowed but followed his direction. She removed her shoes, her pants and her shirt. Jett did the same. His unhurried manner turned her on. Where she whipped off her clothes as fast as she could, Jett took his time, savoring her reaction. He pressed against her and the warm contact made her wet. He wedged a meaty thigh between her legs, the friction on her clit a welcome distraction from her insecurities about her lopsided breasts. She relaxed as he leaned down and nuzzled her neck, then kissed his way up and bit down on her ear lobe. Having been married so long, Jett knew what she liked, made her knees weak, and had her cloying closer.
Jett teased open her lips, tracing them with the tip of his tongue, before entering her mouth and mimicking what he would soon be doing to her pussy.
Eliza let out a low moan. Her fantasy Jett turned her on something fierce. The real life Jett, though passionate and attentive, didn’t dominate her. He never told her what he wanted, or what to do. For two people that had been married for nearly ten years, they were both submissive and shy.
Good Morning fair readers, Eliza Prince coming to you live from my… bedroom. *Winks* I’ve wrangled the hellions up and they are playing games, so I have a few moments of peace to write you this important blog post.
First, let’s start with a video called “It’s not about the nail,” for some laughs, though the the couple in the short do touch on a sensitive topic.
There are many ways of listening to your partner. Sometimes I want to smack Jett upside the head and say, “Dude. Shut the fuck up and hear the words that are coming out of my mouth! Don’t interject, don’t give me your advice, and for the love of… don’t tell me how I feel!”
How many of you out there have experienced this level of “OMG, Just listen, already!” I know I have. I know Jett has as well. Ha – I bet you thought this was going to turn into a bash men post, well, guess what? Us ladies have to be good listeners as well. That means not getting so defensive about everything, and when we do want to rail at the fact he left his dirty clothes in a heap on the floor, as well as a trail of mud from his boots across three floors… Take a breath. Remember – His needing to talk about something, isn’t about you. Let me say that again – “It’s not about you.” (Well, unless it is about you, but that’s a whole ‘nother topic, yo.)
Why do we get defensive? Out of fear. We feel threatened by sensitive topics, afraid we will be asked to change, stop doing something our partner detests, or do something uncomfortable. (Kinky sex aside here, gutter tweeps. Experimenting might be another post, but it doesn’t totally relate to where I’m headed right now)
Defensive listening creates distance, people. You can have a closer connection with your partner by listening with an empathic ear. Focus intently on your partner. Keep eye contact. Don’t interrupt, even if you really, really want to.
I’m going to post a list from therapist Marcia Naomi Berger, on “How to Actively Listen to your partner.”
First, make sure that the conversation about a potentially sensitive topic occurs when both of you are calm and when distractions are unlikely. Then follow these six steps:
1. Stop what you are doing. Take the necessary time to really listen to your partner.
2. Look at your partner. Eye contact expresses that you are ready to listen. Body language and facial expression also indicate an interest in listening. Focus on your partner. Try to push everything else from your mind.
3. Listen to your partner. Listen without interrupting, arguing, or giving advice. If you are having a strong emotional reaction to the words, notice it. Breathe in and out slowly a few times to center yourself. You will have a chance to express yourself later, but for now, just listen.
4. Rephrase or repeat what your partner says. This step encourages us to be good listeners. It also helps us understand the other person’s meaning and feelings. Rephrasing also helps the partner recognize and clarify his or her feelings. Start with, “I hear you saying __________________.”
5. Always check with your partner whether your interpretation of what was communicated is accurate. Ask, “Am I understanding what you are saying correctly?” The speaker should clarify his or her meaning if the partner’s interpretation seems inaccurate, after which step 4 should be repeated.
6. Be empathic. Seek to understand your spouse’s emotions in the situation she or he is describing. Try to put yourself in your spouse’s position. Save your advice for another time.
Then, reverse roles if you need to clarify your opinion, or viewpoint, or share your thoughts and feelings, do the same six steps for your partner.
Don’t presume to know what your partner is thinking, feeling, or going through. Just Listen, and try to understand. At the end of the day, that’s all your partner wants. For you to understand them. You don’t always have to agree, in fact, differences breed personal growth in my opinion, so embrace your differences, but listen with an open heart, an empathic ear, and zipped lips.
Eliza from Finding Time.
Yo, how are you all on this sunny, chilly, Thursday?
Oh, you’ll learn some new things about me…
You know you want to know all there is to know about me… and wow, that is a lot of ‘knows’ :grins:
For instance, did you know that I have a s… woops. Almost gave it away. Read to find out more.
Anyway, ugh. I woke up yesterday morning to my older son throwing up. I had a horrible night. There are nights when I can’t fall asleep, and I’ll spend hours tossing and turning, begging my brain to shut off. I started trying to sleep around 10pm and by midnight, I was still awake. I got up and took a sleeping pill.
Hey – don’t judge me.
My younger son still sleeps in our room, though he does have his own bed. My elder son woke me up at just over 1am because his fever had begun and he was hot and cold. He also had foot cramps. Poor thing.
I’d finally, finally – fallen asleep. I changed his clothes, and carried him back to bed, zombie walked down the stairs and crawled back into the warmth of my own. Only to have the youngest hurl himself on top of Jett and I, and wedge himself in between us.
I tried to fall back asleep. I mean, it’s cute to snuggle up to him sometimes. Then he started to head butt me, and kick Jett in the back, and that was it – I scooped him up, stepped over Jett and put him back into his own bed. (All the while trying not to fall over in my sleep deprived, barely awake state) I slid back into bed. I think I glanced at the clock and it was around 3am.
My eldest daughter, Rose, is an early riser, so when I heard her elephant stomps and the TV turn on at 5am, I groaned. Why me! Why do I have the only children on the planet who think O dark thirty is a good fucking time to wake up!
I may have even started to sing, “Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, Take these children farrrrr away from me!”
But I’m not sure.
So, at 7am I rolled out of bed (literally) and put on my pajama pants, helped prepare the kids bags for school and then yelled at the coffee maker to, “brew faster!” Some days, there just isn’t enough coffee. I walked into Jett’s arms and said, “Do you have any Calgon? I could really use some Calgon. And a hotel room. For three days. Alone.”
He laughed and rubbed my back, kissed me and left for work. I’m not complaining, but it is hard work being a (stay at home) mom. If I want to take a shower – generally there are bodies in there with me, happily playing with my $10 bottle of organic Shampoo. If I need to go the bathroom, they happily kick and pound on the door demanding chocolate milk, “Right this instant!”
And forget about taking them to the store. I have to plan around melt-down times because frankly, they don’t allow you to duct tape kids to the carts. Which I think they should, if they want my money, but whatever.
Motherhood – Not for the faint of heart.
It’s easy to lose yourself in the routine and monotony of taking care of others. I like taking care of others, it gives me pleasure, but at the same time, having a family of six is daunting and there are days I feel trapped in a world of my own creation.
I read because it’s the only place my family can’t follow me.
Anyway – So that was how my day started yesterday, and it never got any better. I ran on fumes, had to cancel appointments, pay bills, clean the house, cook breakfast, lunch and dinner, clean more, and take care of sick children who oddly reminded me of newborns with incessant wailing and glaring at me like it’s all my fault.
Just another day in the life.
You can read more about my life if you pick up a copy of Finding Time. It even has sex in it!
So, I’ve been a busy woman, what with four kids, a husband, writing, and trying to maintain a household. All right, so I’m a shitty housekeeper. You caught me. I’ve been working on new marketing ideas and promotions and came across the ‘infographic’ on Cindy Ratzlaff’s website from my BEA conference, and decided to make one.
What do you think? It’s sort of a virtual poster for places like Facebook and Pinterest. But also, most people enjoy visual aids and color. I have a few different ones I’ll post and you can choose which one you like the best and feel free to share it with everyone you know * winks *
Or the very first one I made, but thought was too busy:
I thought long and hard about what topic to write about, and I kept circling back to “keeping the spice” in a marriage. You see, not only do I dabble in paranormal erotic romance, I also write an erotic marriage series featuring Eliza and Jett Prince – happily married monogamous couple of ten years with four children.
Although I write about married couples, most of the spicing up can be used in any relationship. One of the issues Jett and Eliza face in “Finding Time” is well, finding time to be together. Can you imagine trying to be sexy, flirty and adventurous while cleaning up spilled food, or listening to the kids fighting and bickering? It’s extremely unsexy, and a buzz kill. Yes, I know for sure. Why? Because I have four rambunctious hell spawn of my own. Whom I love dearly mind you, but they have horrid timing when it comes to sexy time. Sigh. But that is a story for another post.
My husband is amazing, but he will tell you the same thing. Children can ruin a sex drive faster than a boy will cum the first time he has sex. Marriage is work, children are work, and finding time for intimacy is hard when you’re tired and depleted.
Sex is tough enough, but when you add needy children into the mix, finding uninterrupted time is nearly impossible.
I know it’s easy to put the kids first, and your needs (as a woman, or man) second. An overall theme in “Finding Time” is about reconnecting. Many married couples become complacent and find themselves in the back seat of their own lives, shepherding children to and from activities, homework, and the daily life chores of being a grown up. Not to mention work, and all the societal pressures. These examples just scratch the surface.
So, here are a few tips from Jett and Eliza, and a little insight on how they got their groove back
Eliza says: I used these tips to open up and become more uninhibited.
1) Use technology. I know a lot of people frown upon texting, but really, it’s very useful and easy to text sexy snippets to Jett in front of the kids without them knowing what I’m smiling about. Or that my panties are wet from him telling me all the naughty things he plans for me when he gets home. I’m sure his workday is infinitely harder after he reads my texts :snickers: But texting dirty is the new phone sex – you should try it and reap the rewards of your teasing.
2) Garters are sexy! Buy a few sets and you will instantly feel like a sex kitten. Add a pair of thigh highs and your confidence will soar. The great thing about garters is you can wear them under anything and only you will know – it’s a very sexy secret. Until you reveal yourself to your partner and watch his eyes bug out of his head. Try mixing it up, and when your lover comes home from work – wear nothing but a long coat, a garter set, and a smile.
3) Let him know you appreciate any work he does for you and the family. If he’s been working out, tell him how delectable his body while you rub your hand up his chest and then whisper in his ear how much you love him, and just what his devotion to the family does for you. Follow this by showing him. Either on your knees, or in other adventurous ways. Sometimes intimacy and reconnecting is about the giving of yourself with no expectation. But hell yes –reciprocation is nice!
Jett says: My top three ways of keeping my woman happy are:
1) Compliment her… and I don’t mean the generic “You look nice today” comments. I’m talking about deep comments, like “You’re an amazing mother.” Or keep it simple and look into her eyes, stroke her cheek and say, “I’m glad you’re my wife.” (Or partner, mate, etc.)
2) Take an interest in what interests her. Remember that she is a woman and not just a mother, or housekeeper, or breadwinner. Always remember she is a woman. – Your woman. Make her feel loved and cherished.
3) Make sure she gets some alone time. The mother part of her will appreciate being able to take a shower without grabby hands and little space, going to the grocery store without yelling, or just reading a book in peace.
Jett and Eliza both wanted to give the readers a piece of advice together, and that is:
1) Have sex everyday.
Every day you ask? Every. Day. The more sex you have, the better you will feel, the happier you will be, and the more connected to each other you will become. So make it a point to have some type of sexual interaction daily. You’re welcome in advance.
There you have it ladies and gentlemen. For even more sexy tips and an interesting story, please feel free to read “Finding Time” and be on the look out for the sequel “Finding Balance” coming soon.
“Jett.” She whispered. He caught sight of her in the doorway and froze, his eyes wide. Eliza opened the door further and let him see her nude body. She cocked a hip and motioned to him with the crook of a finger. “Come on, before James knows your home.” She backed up and hoped like hell he followed.
His hand grasped the door and pushed it open enough for him to squeeze through. He shut and locked the door, perusing her up and down, and Eliza noticed his cock bulging his jeans. She decided on a bold course and walked to him as she cupped a hand over his erection and stroked once as she went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been so horny all day. I hoped you’d come home for lunch. I waited for you and I’m sopping wet. Fuck me, please.” She waited for him to say something.
Jett brushed a strand of hair off her cheek and put it behind her ear, caressing her jaw with the backs of his fingers on the way back. “Let me go wash my hands, I’m dirty.” He feathered a kiss to her lips and went into their adjoining bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged naked. The sight never ceased to amaze her. Her husband had a powerful body—strong, meaty thighs and calves. A narrow waist and a broad male chest. He worked a strenuous job and it showed. He didn’t boast a ripped physique, but his biceps were chiseled and he still had the ability to take her breath away. His face captivated her, always had. His sinfully long eyelashes framed large green eyes and sexy, sleep-tasseled, wavy hair hung to just above his shoulders. Her son James had his daddy’s curls. Jett had a square jaw and chiseled cheeks, often a five o’clock shadow or a scruffy beard. Scruffy-bearded men turned her on.
Jett walked to her and stepped her back until her ass hit cold window. She panicked, her heart pounding in her chest, even as slickness coated her inner thighs. Sunshine filtered through the transparent glass, sending prisms of color sparkling in their bedroom. “Someone will see us!” she whispered, a snap to her tone.
“Who cares, Eliza? They’ll only see an ass, if anything. But most people aren’t home right now.” He tucked a hair behind her ears, staring into her eyes.
Eliza shivered. The idea of being caught or seen terrified her as much as it sent zings to her pussy. Since she’d decided to try new things, she relented. She let him press her against the glass and cage her in his warm body. He nibbled and kissed her neck, relaxing her by slow degrees. He lingered on her mouth, sucking her lips and stroking her tongue with his. When her body grew lax, he dropped to his knees and hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder and tilted her hips towards his face. His strong fingers dug into her ass cheeks, he alternated kneading and clenching them together.
Her face flamed. Did she want this? Really? What if her neighbor, Mrs. Honeysuckle, glanced out her window and caught sight of more than she ever bargained for? She’d never be able to look the lady in the eye again without burning from embarrassment.
The first touch of Jett’s tongue to her slit stopped her wayward thoughts. In the recess of her wickedest fantasies, she admitted she wanted the thrill and added danger of exhibitionism. He lapped and stroked her, suckled her clit with the skill of a knowing lover, and she flew apart, palms pressed to the glass, head tossed back, eyes closed. Blood thrumming through her veins as a fine sheen of sweat coated her body.
She opened her eyes and looked down into the face of desire, stroking his cheek with her hand, as he licked the taste of her from his lips with an “Hmmm.”
He stood and gave her a poignant glance at his cock, eyebrow raised in mock challenge. Eliza laughed and turned him so his back pressed into the spot next to hers against the glass.
Author ~ ER Pierce
Paranormal Erotic Romance Author ~ Fractured Moon (Steel #1) Released March 2, 2012. Available on Amazon and All Romance Ebooks
Erotic Contemporaries ~ Finding Time (Marriage #1) Released April 2, 2012 Available on Amazon and Free for Prime Member
As a thank you, Finding Time is Free for its one month anniversary. (Today, May 2nd, only) However — It is up to Amazon to post at it’s leisure. I hope it’s ready by the time this goes live! *laughs*
Run.. .Run forth and download! Amazon only, but can be read on your phone or computer/iPad/Tablet
Are you a mother? Do you feel like you’ve lost your way as a woman? Wish you could find time and different ways to be intimate with your husband or partner? Here is a book for you.
Who is Eliza Prince? She doesn’t know anymore. She’s a mother. A wife. But what happened to the sexy woman? The woman who wore heels and skirts and had passion with her husband? Now her husband sleeps on the couch, and she sleeps with the kids.
Finding Time is about reconnecting. An erotic marriage novella with fantasies and eroticism. It’s about communication.
Every mother will relate to Eliza. Her body changed, her self-confidence shattered and she lost her female identity.
Now, she wants it back. Her desires are strong. She hopes her husband Jett will be on board with her plans.
Warning: This monogamous novella burns up the pages. It’s real and heartfelt. Sexy and Erotic.
This makes me laugh — Finding Time is #69 in Kindle Erotica <3
Good Morning and Happy Monday!
Well, it’s light outside, so I guess it’s classified as morning, and since I woke up, that’s a plus too. But really, where did that expression come from? Just curious. I’m not going to digress into exploring the saying — well, not right this very second … don’t worry. *laughs*
So, I have been doing a lot of thinking, and I’ve come to a decision — I think. Fractured Moon is going to be re-worked and re-configured. Since writing Fractured Moon, Finding Time, and learning every day, I believe this is the wisest course. Fractured Moon could be a great novel. Instead, it’s just all right. And quiet frankly, all right isn’t good enough. You feel me?
The story and plot are unusual, and I know that what I want to bring to the table is different and unique, but I need to do a better job explaining a few key plot points, and I need to re-work a few scenes as well as alter sentence structure where it’s choppy. All the little details that will make the reading experience more enjoyable.
I’m toying with pulling the novel completely off the shelves versus re-writing and leaving Fractured for sale as is. If I do that, I will lower the price to $.99 or make it free, I haven’t decided yet. Food for thought. I wonder if other authors experience this, or if I am alone on my island. I realize at some point you have to let your novel go, and keep writing, but if you know you can fix something — shouldn’t you? What do you think? I know as a reader I’d appreciate an author who fixes issues to make their work better. But as an Author — sigh. The thought is daunting.
When I started on this writing journey I knew two things. Aurelia and Ceithin were unique, and I had a lot to learn about writing. I’ve been writing for a long time, but some of the more technical aspects elude me in my foggy sleep deprivation. I have strengths and weaknesses, and all I can strive for is to write better with each book.
I’ve have been. Finding Time is a much easier read. And my current work in progress with Benjamin is phenomenal. (Because Ben is phenomenal, and there is no value I can place on what I learn from him.) I am continually amazed and humbled that he is writing with me, and teaching me. Doesn’t hurt our novel is going to knock your socks off, either. *Laughs*
So, at any rate, my head is achy, and I haven’t slept, but I am renewed with a sense of purpose. To make Fractured Moon worthy of my readers.
I would like to say a very heartfelt and personal thank you to all my friends (you know who you are), family, and (new) fans, who have made my first month as a bonafide, official Author, So completely awesome. It’s been a month since Fractured Moon was released to the world, and I could not be more pleased with the results. So, thank you to each and every person who has read, purchased, reviewed, rated and even hated my book. I appreciate you all ♥
There are so many who have touched my life, and so many people I would love to thank. But I don’t think there will be enough room on this page Just to name a few:
with Benjamin Russell, Sherry M. Palmer, Cassandre Dayne, Jade F. Baiser, Victoria Miller, Patricia Logan, Heaven Liegh Eldeen Author, Sara York, Sancre Darling, Sherri Hayes, Stephanie Phillos Murphy, Nichelle Gregory, Luna Ella Aldora, Laurie Laurielu Horton, Dianne Kelly, Alyssa Hesper Mathews, Naomi Shaw, Havan Fellows, Lee Brazil, Muffy Wilson, Lisa Worrall Author, Yvonne Nicolas, Carynne Thom Pierzchalski, Laura Harner, Finless Daveejones, Elicia Seitz Stoll, Lani Rhea, Gemma Parkes, Amber Skyze, Summer Daniels, Melynda Shattuck Wilson and Author Bonni Sansom.