The Freedom of a Pen Name by Angelina J. Windsor

Hi Cait! Thanks so much for having me visit with you today. I hope to make some new friends and share our mutual love of reading and writing! Please feel free to contact me at any of the links I’ve provided below.

According to Wikipedia, “a pen name, nom de plume, or literary double, is a pseudonym adopted by an author”. I decided a few months back to embrace the concept never guessing what a journey of words would follow my entry into this world. I came to the decision because as a teacher, even writing a simple sweet love scene, I felt the hard breath of critics standing behind my shoulder. It was such a fine line between acceptable and not acceptable it was stifling. Hence the pen name. But a curious thing happened after I introduced my new ego onto the internet, she began to collect more friends than me! And it was without a personal photograph because I can’t show “me” or I lose the anonymity. That I found strange. I think I’m jealous!

I have been driven for some time now by my characters and my books. A day without some time spent writing feels wasteful and I have fully embraced my need to tell stories. I keep thinking I won’t have enough time to get it all down. (Possibly because I lost two precious brothers so young.) Time spent doing other things feels like just time getting ready to go back to my writing fresh again and sometimes it’s just annoying that other things need to be done. I’m going to assume this is normal for writers because a lot of us are an obsessive Type “A” personalities. I’ve blogged about balance in life before and how hard it is to achieve. I’m still working on it. It’s helped that my wonderful husband is aware of my obsession and encourages me to keep control of it. With just a few words he can remind me that having a life is also valuable and will only help my writing.

Happy reading, Angelina J. Windsor J

Sugar & Spice & Everything…Naughty

Connect with me:

http://www.angelinajwindsor.com/

https://twitter.com/AngelinaWindsor

https://www.facebook.com/angelina.windsor.7

Angelina.j.windsor@gmail.com

My first novel is being published by Ellora’s Cave in a matter of weeks!

Seventh Son is the first novella of the Dragonstone Wolves series:

An ancient werewolf curse, a darkly handsome nobleman and a desperate woman collide in the haunted forests of ancient Albion. Some say it is destiny. Some say it is a catalyst brought about by the devil’s own. But all say divine intervention is necessary if history will claim the victory of the Dragonstone clan over the wild Northmen.

This series is definitely for adults only, please be advised!

Excerpt:

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth,

Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.

John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV

A sound. A shadow. The breath stilled in my lungs. I froze mid-stride, icy tentacles of fear twisted around my desperate heart. I waited with every fiber of my body alert to my surroundings. This close to my goal I could not, nay, would not, be denied. A board creaked. The certainty I was not alone slithered through my mind. Evil surely awaited in the rising mist of the gloaming. It crept silently in over the water and beclouded the bottom of the river below. I had to hurry. I willed my body to move and lurched to the dark wooden railing, grasping it with stiffened fingers. Looking down, I could see the mist rising thicker and settling on the cold rushing water. I shuddered. I fancied the swirling mist forming itself into the searching fingers of death. A macabre welcome surely awaited me with absolution for my sins, an end to the agony that my life had become. I felt no hesitation in my mission.

A creak. Someone was on the bridge with me. I panicked and looked back towards the muffled footfalls and barely discernible creaks that echoed loudly in my head. The mist felt a living entity as it pursued me over the wide wooden planks and obscured my view. Wait. The deep voice pierced my head a split second before I threw a leg up over the wooden railing and hoisted myself upwards. No time to waste. Just a couple more seconds and my pain would be over forever. The devil would not win my soul.

Strong arms pulled me off balance and I tumbled off the railing against a hard body. I screeched with anger and agony, fighting the interference tooth and nail with my clenched fists. Food and shelter cost too dearly. I wanted no part of any rescue.

“Let me go! I want to die!”

“Hush, no one wants to die,” a low throaty voice soothed.

His body radiated heat and calmed my tormented mind. I found I wanted to stay within the confines of his arms and be warmed. What had happened to my death wish? Was a warm man enough to turn me away from a choice that had seemed inevitable and well-chosen only moments ago? That I had promised myself this very night. I couldn’t go back. No one could make me. I would not, could not let that happen, but still I did not struggle. I let myself be embraced by the stranger while my mind raced.