Samhain Publishing Ltd. Weblog

The Birth of a Dream

Monday wasn’t such a great day. This summer has been extremely busy. My seventy-nine year old mother has moved out of the house where she raised my brother, sister, and me to live closer. Days have been spent unpacking boxes, painting walls and endless trips to Home Depot. There hasn’t been much time for writing.

Later in the day Monday, I went home to pick up my youngest son to help unpack yet more boxes. Stabbing them with scissors to cut the miles of packing tape I got out my frustrations, daily. I was sick of seeing the tan hide of cardboard.

That is until I stepped on my porch and saw a slender box with the Samhain return address. Jumping for joy, I screamed for my son to come outside. I could hardly contain the ecstatic emotions coursing through me. I tenderly guided the scissor across the top and opened the treasure chest. There it was—my book. Every Witch Way But Dead.

I know other writers can appreciate this next sentiment. It’s funny—not ha-ha funny—because I worked really hard on this book, read and re-read, wrote and rewrote and re-read some more. To the point that I thought I couldn’t do it anymore—BUT, last night I sat in bed with my little reading light and opened it up and relished each page as if I’d never lay eyes on it before.
With book two finished, I look forward to more adventures with Angelica Kane and friends. Fall Festivals are popping up all over and I’ll be attending as many as I can doing book signings. It’s a dream come true!

Blessings~
Ella

The Business of Ghost Whispering.

Tomorrow is the Big Day. Yes, with caps. Every Witch Way But Dead arrives on magickal wings of things that go bump in the night. Its synchronistic birth echoes whispers from those beyond the veil.
Let me explain. Two years ago this coming August I lost my sister to breast cancer.
In an effort to soothe my mother’s broken heart—and mine—we went to see a well-respected psychic. Not John Edward, but one just as talented. The psychic ‘picked up’ on my sister’s energy as soon as we sat down. She told us things that she had no way of knowing, named my sister’s daughters exactly, and told me to keep writing. I would be working with someone named Sam. I was just in the beginning of the editing phase at the time, and had only begun to think about submitting Every Witch Way But Dead. I hadn’t a clue who Sam could possibly be.
Fast forward to the present and here I am. Today is my sister’s birthday and I now know who Sam (hain) is. I know it’s pronounced Sow-en, but to me you’ll always be Sam.
For those of you out there that believe in the immortality of the soul I hope you’ll read my book. I think you’ll enjoy it. I know my sister thought it good enough; after all, she pushed me from beyond the veil to get it done.

Brightest Blessings!
Ella