Welcome Amylea Lyn

Edits: The good, the bad, and the… did I actually write that?

As an author, there is nothing I love more then sitting down at my computer and recording the words racing through my mind, breathing life to my characters, and finally, finishing a manuscript. Writing feeds my soul, my heart, and lets my inner demons rest after hounding me for months at a time while I toiled away at my story, forsaking both necessary sleep and family dinners to produce a work I would be proud to claim. And once the story is finished, comes the heart wrenching task of finding the manuscript a proper home with a publisher; then there are the days (and sometimes weeks) of waiting to hear back from said publisher and worrying about rejections. Finally, the news comes; you’re books been accepted and you’re being published!

So that’s the end of it, right?

Wrong.

Weeks later, I get an email from someone claming to be my “editor” and then it dawns on me… the real work is about to begin.

LOL. Truthfully, I have had no problem with any of the editors I’ve been assigned. They are miracle workers, and I would never be able to put out the quality work I do without them.

Nope, the only complaints I have about the editing process is with myself.

I look at the words I’ve written, and sometimes I just have to cock my head and wonder: Did I actually write that? I mean, how in the hell did I turn what was supposed to be a beautiful and touching love scene into something dirty and confusing?

Don’t understand what I mean? Let me give you an example from one of my earlier works, Dream a Little Dream.

“He sat up, pulling Jake away from devouring Cael’s mouth and into a bruising kiss, sharing the flavor of their lover. Jake moaned, hot tongue invading Aiden’s mouth to lap at any remaining cream. Cael moaned, arching up between them, his small hands slowly moving over the muscles of each man’s chest and belly.”

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Well, here’s how it started out before the edits happened:

“He sat up, pulling him away from devouring Cael’s mouth and into a bruising kiss, sharing the flavor of their lover. Jake moaned, hot tongue invading his mouth to lap at any remaining cream and Cael moaned, arching up between them, small hands slowly moving over the muscles of the men’s chest and belly.”

A bit confusing, right? Thankfully, I’m able to catch most of the edits on my own when I real through them, but things like perspective changes, and keeping it clear exactly which “him” I’m referring to when writing at story with two or more male characters can be difficult on the first draft. That’s where the editors become invaluable. But sometimes when I go back and read over the original copy of my manuscript I just have to shake my head.

Did I really write “he reached a peek of pleasure” instead of “he reached a peak of pleasure” and used the word “gently” something like forty-three times throughout the story?

Yep, I certainly did, and without edits, you would all be reading my shame. LOL.

I feel much more comfortable now as I begin edits on my sixth book, I’m much more realistic about the edits needed, and I find simple mistakes happen less and less. But as much as I’d like to claim my edits are a breeze and I barely need them anymore, it’s not the truth. I try work on edits with the passion and determination I had while writing the book, especially now that I realize how valuable they are.

So I have to say, as much as I loath them, as much as it’s a completely soul sucking experience, and I want to cry and bang my head against the desk by the time I’m done… edits serve a very important purpose in writing.

I mean really, who wants to read a book where every other page the reader has to stop themselves and ask, um what do you think the author meant in this scene?

Thanks to edits, my books wont have to be one of those that the reader thinks, did she really write just that?

Edits and I are not friends, but were no longer enemies either.

-Amylea Lyn

Links:

Amylea’s website: www.amylealyn.webs.com

Amylea’s Blog: www.amylealynromance.blogspot.com

Amylea’s Facebook: www.facebook.com/people/Amylea-Lyn/100001651775372

Blurb from my recent release, Nature of the Beast:

The City is a cold, sterile place. What lies Outside it?

Raine O'Kelly has a gift. The very power of nature is his to command. When his gift lands him in trouble with the government, Raine find himself thrown into The Prison; one of the most feared punishment for those citizens who wont conform to The City's ideals.

Abused, scared, and slowly dying of deprivation from the one thing his body truly needs, an accident lands him in the infirmary, which leads him to be given to The Prison’s most feared inmate… The Beast.

When The Beast defends him from the guards, Raine finds himself inexplicably drawn to the misunderstood man. A man with unique abilities of his own, the Beast’s animalistic desires forms a connection between them that cannot be denied. When he learns The Beast comes from Outside the City, is Raine willing to take the chance on escape with the mysterious man?

Escape wont be easy, and there are dangers waiting for them on The Outside, ready to strike at the fragile relationship between the two men. When The Beast’s past come’s to light, will Raine be able to put aside his own fears in order to fight for the life the two of them could have together? Or will he fold under the pressure?

Will he get his happily ever after?

Or will he become just another victim of the Nature of the Beast.

Excerpt from Nature of the Beast:

The others were near. He could smell them, mortal men, hunting him. The stench of their hunger clung to their skins. At one time, he would have called them friend, perhaps even lover, but now they were the enemy, chasing him through the trees, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

How had his life come to this? A leader among his people, a prophet, guardian and protector; how had he become the prey? He couldn't remember anymore. He knew only fire and pain, the Betrayer's scent clinging to the inside of his nostrils, burning into his soul so he would never forget.

Never ever forget his life was over, thanks to one traitor; someone who he never expected to betray him.

One of his own.

The humans gained ground, and he began to tire. He could practically feel the heat of their torches against his back. The scent of their sweat, stale and bitter, overlapping the once joyous and soothing aroma of the lush forest around them. Gleeful shouts echoed in the wood and all others dwellers were silent; each small animal hiding deep in their burrows, laying silent witness to his last desperate flight.

He knew the woods, deep in his soul he recognized his little earth sister, but his mind went blank. Everything he rushed past, each tree and shrub, every flora and fauna, had at one time been familiar to him. Now everything he saw swirled together in a mash of greens and browns, nothing distinct or unique. He didn't even know his name anymore, only the fact he had once been a man of great importance, and that he had been betrayed by someone he should have been able to trust.

Everything else had vanished.

He'd woken in an unknown clearing, his mind a daze as pain and confusion racked his body. How had he gotten to the middle of the forest? What had happened?

He lifted a hand to his aching head, only to find his hair matted with blood; little drops dripping down the back of his neck. His tongue felt thick and uncoordinated in his mouth, making swallowing seem impossible. The cool night air drifted across his naked skin, leaving him shivering without his clothes and boots. A scent covered him, one he instinctively knew belonged to the person responsible for his unfortunate circumstances, and he growled in fear and anger.

Shouts suddenly filled the air and a half-dozen men raced into the clearing, torches lighting the glade and glinting off dangerous weapons. He could smell the aggression, hate, and fear clinging to their unwashed bodies, and shuddered visibly at the sight of the vermin wriggling in their ratted and matted beards.

He didn't stick around to find out why they were after him. Instead, he ran.

Over rocks and roots. Through bushes and over small streams. A desperate flight to a safer place, one just out of reach of his conscious mind. If he could get a little further, evade his hunters a bit longer, he would be free.

It wasn't meant to be.

He tripped over an unseen root, landing with a pained grunt on the forest floor, leaves and twigs poking the sensitive skin along his front. He tried to get up, to run again, but something large and heavy landed on his back. The stench of his pursuers overwhelmed him; he couldn't get up, trapped and caught.

But he wouldn't go without a fight.

He bucked up, managing to unsettle the man on his back, and then turned over to slash at him with his claws. Fear and desperation fueled him and he racked across the man's face, something primal and angry rejoicing in the bleeding man's screams. He stood, slashing at another, then another, growling and snarling at them, jerking back from the torches thrust in his direction.

Kill, kill, kill. His mind became a haze of aggression, an inner animal bursting forth. Kill, kill, kill!

"He's shifting!" A flurry of movement followed the hollered warning.

Something thick and wooden slammed into his back, possibly a tree branch, stunning him for a moment, only for a short while but enough for the others to act. Something cracked, sudden and loud, leaving a burning trail of fire blossoming on his side. Another loud sound split the air, this one right on center, causing him to double over with a howl as fire seemed to bloom and spread from his midsection upward to his chest and down toward his feet, leaving him numb.

He fell, body twitching, as another object slammed into him, pain blossoming in his shoulder. His body felt heavy, the world becoming disorientated and blurry around him. He fell like a tree to the forest floor, not even able to cry out in agony as the numbness robbed him of speech.

Dark shapes moving around him, circling like a pack of wolves. He tried to get up and defend himself, but his strength continued to wane and he couldn't raise his head off the ground, let alone fight off his attackers. As his world started to go dark, he heard one of the hunters speak, and sent a silent prayer to whatever unknown god may be listening.

"The boss wants him gone. Let's get him tied up and back to the city…"

Buy Link: https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/glbt-fantasy-c-53_61/nature-of-the-beast-ebook-p-442