Mia Knight's Blog, page 4

One year as Mrs. James Roth will keep her family safe from his wrath. All she has to do is play the loving wife in public… He failed to negotiate how she should behave in private.

This is a business arrangement, nothing more. Once her time is up, she’ll walk away and it won’t be like the last time when he broke her into little pieces. It doesn’t matter that their chemistry still burns white-hot or that sometimes, she catches a glimpse of the man she once knew. That man is gone. In his place is a ruthless stranger with an appetite for revenge, a dark past, and bitter secrets he’ll do anything to keep buried.

Amazon,  iBooks,  Google Play,  Kobo,  Barnes & Noble,  Vivlio

Amazon UK, Amazon AU, Amazon CA

Yahoo! My babies are finally out in the world! I can’t believe it! I haven’t published in three years and the longer you don’t do something, the more implausible it seems, even if you have done it before. In August 2022 I decided to overcome my fears and doubts and finish this book, come hell or high water. I had been avoiding this book because even though I had a first draft done, it needed a lot of work.

I wasn’t wrong.

It took me four months of intense rewrites for me to be satisfied with this installment in the series. This took longer than normal since I was traveling and running from one season to the next. This book was written in four states: Hawaii, Nevada, Utah, Arizona. I know in future when I flip through this story I’ll have fond memories of where I was when I wrote certain scenes.

I hope you enjoy Bitter Secrets and all the angst and intrigue that comes with Roth and Jasmine!

I’ll be in this Facebook group if you want to stop by and say hello. We’ll be posting giveaways, games, and accepting questions for a Q&A. You can submit your questions HERE. Of course, I won’t be answering any spoilers about the future of the series, but if you want to ask about one of the published books, writing, or something personal, I may answer!

Thank you for your support!

Hooray! This has been such a long time coming, but every day we get one step closer to my babies being let loose on the world! Ahhh!

I’m not a very visual person, so my graphic designers usually get to do whatever they want. My first graphic designer basically designed the whole Crime Lord Series and I was happy with it until the male model featured got into some hot water and I realized I would have to re-do my whole series. I have yet to do this mostly because I still don’t know what I would like to change it to. I’m going to tackle this when I finish Carmen’s books and get them all done at the same time so the series is cohesive.

Anywhoo, because of that issue with the male model, I realized it was better to veer away from people and do an object for various reasons. One, I didn’t want the model’s personal opinions to have any bearing on my books. Second, it’s a “safer” option commercially although having a person on the cover does seem to garner more interest.

When it came to Bitter Heat, I really wanted to go the “object” route. I was panicking because I had no idea what I wanted to do, but the idea came from this line at the end of the book:

“I want freedom,” she said fiercely. “I grew wings after I left you. I soared without you.”
“I’ll burn your fucking wings.”

Jasmine was cocooned all her life. She escaped and emerged bright, vibrant, but oh so vulnerable and delicate. I thought a butterfly would be appropriate, but more specifically a monarch butterfly because Roth calls her princess. And the fire scorching her wings represents Roth stealing her freedom.

For Bitter Secrets, I wanted the butterfly caged in something. Since the patrons read the raw draft, they were able to suggest a ton of things, but when someone suggested a snow globe, my heart literally skipped. In Bitter Heat, I mentioned that Jasmine liked to collect trinkets on her travels and even mentioned that she had a snow globe. I immediately knew where I could insert an appropriate scene in Bitter Secrets where Jasmine could come upon a snow globe and compare her current circumstances to a figure trapped in glass.

“Roth put her in a glass cage. People could talk to her through the invisible barrier, but she had no voice. She couldn’t confide in anyone or ask for help. From the outside looking in, everything looked glamorous and romantic, but no one knew that inside, she was...”

I told my cover designer I wanted a butterfly trapped in a snow globe. I love that she incorporated the “heat” element from the previous book with sparks. This is my favorite cover so far. I can’t wait to see it in paperback!

I cannot wait for you all to read this book. Books are such a long process—writing, editing, rewriting… and then comes the actual publishing and marketing. I’ve never been a good marketer. Someone mentioned I should be on TikTok which fills me with horror. I can barely do Facebook and Instagram. How the hell can I ever go on that platform?! Anyway, I think the best thing is to always interact with the readers and then do what I can when I feel so inclined… which is never. LMAO. I may try, though… (Don’t hold me to this.) Shout out to those who do edits and reels and videos on my books! You are superstars! And special thanks to my personal assistant, Emily, who handles my socials. Don’t know what I would do without her. 🫶

The new year is almost here and with it, Bitter Secrets. I have a feeling 2023 is going to be an awesome year!

The week leading up to the release, I’ll be in the Facebook group my personal assistant, Emily, has kept going. For the release, we’ll be doing gift card giveaways, games, and other fun stuff. Also, I’m planning to do a post release Q&A (no spoilers, of course). I'm looking forward to catching up with you all! I wanted to wish you all happy holidays and a brilliant new year! I’ll see you on the other side! 

This will be an insanely long post about what led to my three-year hiatus and how living on the road in a 20’ RV (Recreational Vehicle) forced me to go on a journey of self-discovery and face some hard truths that changed my life.

Confession: In my New Year = Change blog, I knew I was going on the road, but I didn’t share that because I wasn’t sure what would happen and to be frank, I was a bit embarrassed. I had been obsessed with the #vanlife movement for years, but knew there was a stigma attached to the lifestyle that was one step up from being homeless in some people’s eyes. Everyone around me was saying being a nomad was the worst idea ever considering record high gas prices, unstable economy, riots, rampant sickness and countless other issues and honestly, they had a point, but I didn’t let that stop me. It’s been 10 months since I set out on my adventure and I can honestly say, aside from quitting my corporate job to take a chance on writing, this is the second-best decision I’ve ever made.

To explain the hiatus, I have to go back to the beginning of my writing career and my experiences with the book community that led me to leave social media and consider walking away from this career altogether. I’ve always shied away from discussing ugly stuff because I abhor drama, and I’ve always felt it was my job to protect my readers from this type of stuff, but the fact that authors disappear from the public eye so often tells me that these issues are common. I think it’s important for people to know what authors are dealing with behind the scenes.

I hope this doesn’t get too depressing. Just know that there’s a happy ending that led to me completing Bitter Secrets, returning to social media, and being happier than I’ve been in years! I went through an insane journey this year that led to some groundbreaking epiphanies. I felt it would be a waste to keep these revelations to myself when I suspect we have similar struggles. I’ll be delving into subjects like self-sabotage, imposter syndrome, and even some deep-rooted shame from my childhood that I didn’t realize was holding me back. I hope that by sharing my story, I can inspire others to take time for themselves to figure out what they truly want in life and make the leap to go after it.

The first time I picked up a pencil with the intention to write a story was probably around eight or nine. I rewrote the ending of the first book that ever made me cry by Tamora Pierce. The main character’s twin died, and my little heart couldn’t take the pain, so I changed the ending to make sure he lived to make myself feel better. That’s how I started, by tweaking plots from other books, switching out characters, and eventually coming up with my own storylines as I evolved.

In my early 20s, I submitted a contemporary romance to Harlequin. My manuscript was rejected, but a fateful visit to Suzanne Wright’s website pointed me in the direction of self-publishing, which was just starting to take off in 2013. For the next three years, I worked sporadic jobs while I published 11 novels across multiple genres. What I made was barely enough to pay for my phone bill.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would always have a day job and write on the side, but losing my best friend at 28 and the realization that life was short compelled me to leave my corporate job and take 6 months off to publish 3 novels I had on the back burner, one of them being Crime Lord’s Captive. I read The Dominator by DD Prince and maybe Knocked Up by the Bad Boy by Vanessa Waltz, but I didn’t know that mafia romance was a genre. I fell into it accidentally and had no idea why I was suddenly selling more copies in a month than I did in 6 months under my other name.

It was a whirlwind. I was suddenly meeting other authors, being invited into Facebook groups (I had no idea these even existed), and talking to hundreds of readers around the world. Things moved so freaking fast. One month I wasn’t a writer and the next I was? I was terrified I would lose momentum, so I released books 2 and 3 in the Crime Lord Series pretty close together. Between Once a Crime Lord and Awakened by Sin, I learned how to format my books, expand on other retailers, and took marketing courses.

I was living my dream. I should have been insanely happy, but the more established I became, the more depressed I felt. I couldn’t make sense of it. Yes, there was immense pressure and stress involved in running my own business, but that should have been offset by the fact that I didn’t have a 9-5 and could do what I wanted. Everyone around me became impatient and annoyed with my melancholy, which only made me feel worse. But, my release for Bitter Heat was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Bitter Heat was a significant book for me. I had been successful with the Crime Lord Series and when people found out I was writing something new, my readers were politely skeptical and a bit miffed that I wasn’t completing Carmen’s story (understandable), but this story hit me hard, and I didn’t want to let go. I was intrigued with the premise and enthralled by the development of the story, which bloomed like the best stories always do.

This was the first book I put so much of myself into. Jasmine was me, so it was easy to write her struggles and Roth… He was everything I wanted in an anti-hero. There’s a time and place for the assassin with a heart of gold, but I wanted a darker, rougher, caustic, manipulative bastard. Dreamy sigh. Roth was a total ass, and I didn’t try to soften him up. I let him be himself and was thrilled with the results. While I thought he might rub some people the wrong way, I was totally unprepared for the backlash this story would receive.

When I finished Bitter Heat, I gave it to a handful of writers who I considered friends and who read my other work. This was the first time I had done this, and I was eager to hear what they thought, since this was a departure from my norm. It never occurred to me that they wouldn’t like it, so it came as a shock when the first author said, “Your characters have no chemistry.” This stunned me stupid for a minute before I tried to find the silver lining and asked what she thought of Jasmine’s writing sequences, to which she responded, “I don’t need writing the way you do.” This was the first time that I realized some authors see writing as a hobby or job. They don’t need it like I do. I’m more like J. K. Rowling, who says she writes for her mental health. I thought all authors were like us. Apparently not.

I was a bit taken aback by her bluntness, but I thanked the author for her honesty and went to the next one, hoping I would get a different verdict. No such luck. The second author’s feedback was even more alarming. Instead of addressing the characters or plot, she warned me that this book was going to alienate my audience and put my career in jeopardy.

I went into a full-blown panic.

I had never received such dire feedback. Was I regressing? I absolutely loved the book and thought it would be well-received, but these comments made me second guess my work. I waited to hear back from ARC readers, and something inside of me died when half of them never got back to me. The ARC readers who finished, loved it, but the fact that people either enjoyed or DNF’d made me ill. If the book wasn’t on pre-order, I would have done another pass on it to see if there was anything I could improve or tweak, but I had no time.

This release was riddled with problems from hiring three different cover designers (two of which had major tantrums), to attendance issues with the release party, and (I didn’t find this out until a couple of days past the launch) an ARC being published on a pirate site.

On release day, the hate mail started pouring in. I distinctly remember a long, scathing email where the reader called me disgusting and a bunch of other unspeakable things before she declared she would never read anything from me ever again. I apologized and actually drafted a public apology that I was going to post in my group, but my girls talked me out of it. It took me years to realize I had nothing to apologize for, but at the time, I felt like I deserved the bashing and name-calling.

Bitter Heat caused the most backlash I’d ever experienced. This didn’t make sense to me since I’d been writing mafia, which wasn’t a “safe” genre, but something about James Roth really rubbed people the wrong way. I spent my release day deleting pending hate posts in my group. What was next level humiliating was that the authors attending the release party had administrative access and were seeing these awful posts from my audience. To have my peers witnessing this made me want to crawl under my bed. Although there were positive reviews, it wasn’t enough to drown out the deafening negativity. I stayed in bed for two days afterward bawling my eyes out, regretting that I had ever written this book and wondering if I had just ruined my career.

I tried to move forward and get back to work, but I’d internalized everyone’s feedback by that point and began to hate everything I put on the page. To make matters worse, the harassment continued in comments, emails, and even during takeovers in other groups. When I tried to promote, trolls would tell other readers not to take a chance on me because I never finished anything, which of course savaged my already injured pride and confidence. I went into this downward mental spiral and I didn’t know how to get out of it.

There’s good and bad in the book community with authors and readers. There are sweet authors who check in to make sure you’re doing okay and tell you to ignore the haters, and then there’s the backstabbing, petty, gossipy ones that I avoid like the plague. Same for readers. There are wonderful readers who are ecstatic to interact with the author and who can’t wait for the next book, and then there are the ones who hate you, hate your work, and tell you to kill yourself. There’s really no middle ground. In Bitter Secrets, I compare social media to Russian roulette. You never know what kind of reception you’ll get when you log on.

When I dreamed of being a writer, I never imagined this was part of the equation. I thought writing was the hard part, but it feels like people feel justified in chastising you, pelting you with tomatoes, or spitting on you for daring to put something out into the world. I didn’t understand it. Needless to say, being on social media eroded my self-esteem. I started to forget who I was, what I liked, and why I started in the first place. I started to hate myself and writing, which had always been my lifeline.

During one of my releases, an author messaged me to ask if I was satisfied with my numbers. (Authors can figure this out from a book’s ranking and their own sales.) When I said yes, she was like, “Really? Oh, well, congrats then.” 😑 I was grateful that any book sales and thought I was doing quite well, but catty remarks like this minimized what I accomplished and made me feel like I was bottom of the barrel and not at their level. In retrospect, the fact that she was even watching my numbers says something, but back then I couldn’t see past that and l felt like crap. The fact that readers buddied up to ruin your launch, pirate your book, and get you banned from retailers was disheartening. That’s not including other authors who plagiarized and tore each other down… It was horrific.

In an effort to regain some control over my writing, I channeled my frustrations into a story I published under another name. It was my way of hitting back at critics by writing something much more depraved and unsettling. Also, I needed to write something without second guessing every word or living up any expectations or standards. Although getting the story out was therapeutic, my satisfaction didn’t last and the experience didn’t make me feel better.

I did some brutal tactics on myself to try to snap me out of the mental abyss I was thrashing in. I set the pre-order for Bitter Secrets, a race against time that I failed. Patreon actually did help. Gathering a dedicated, supportive group of readers who loved the characters and story and were so enthusiastic over the snippets I showed slowly helped to repair my shattered confidence. But, when the raw draft was stolen and leaked by the Samira, Queen of the Trolls, I was dragged back under the dark, choppy waters and this time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to come back up.

Writing used to be this joyous, magical experience, and now it was a source of such pain that I wasn’t sure it was worth it. Getting a 9-5 would be easier than spending 6 months to a year on a piece of work that would be mocked and chewed up by the masses. It would be easier to scan items at a grocery store or tap a 10-key in accounts payable than to sift through my pain and bleed on paper to bring my characters to life. I did have positive interactions with readers, but I found myself doubting their praise when the criticism and hatred was so damn loud.

I was a total mess and to make matters worse, I was in physical pain. I’d been chained to my desk for years, and now I was paying the price for it. I needed carpal tunnel surgery, but the risks and recovery period scared me. I also thought having this type of surgery before my mid-thirties was a death sentence of sorts. How many of these surgeries would I have in my lifetime, and was writing worth the cost?

I needed time away from everyone and everything to let my mind and body heal. I decided there was no better time to live out my dreams of being a hobo, so I bought an RV and hit the road.

I’ve always had this weird urge to run away from civilization to a cottage in the woods or go on a road trip to nowhere. I tried to get an RV on two other occasions, but it didn’t work out. This seemed like the worst time to start, but I didn’t care. I needed off the island, open road, and freedom. It didn’t matter that my only experience in an RV was a 4-day trip with my friends up the California/Oregon coast. I was confident I would figure it out along the way. I went all in. I sold my car, computers, standing desk, and donated everything else. I wanted to simplify my life and give myself a clean slate that would allow me to do whatever I wanted next without anything holding me back. I packed necessities in two suitcases, apologized to my dogs about what I was about to put them through, and jumped.

You all know what I’m going to say, right?

This is one of the hardest damn things I’ve ever done! Most of the time I felt like a fool (and probably looked it too). I had no idea how anything worked in my rig and had a dozen near-death experiences in my first month. The first time I tried to park my RV, I banged a tree, and before I learned how to drive a 13,000 lb (ca. 6 t) beast, I felt like Sandra Bullock in Speed, screaming at everyone to get out of the way because I couldn’t stop. I got marooned at a travel center on my first trip because I didn’t have the foresight to check the weather, took showers in gas stations, and barely survived a three-day stomach flu extravaganza in my RV. There were plenty of tears and freak-outs, but I never questioned whether I made the wrong decision because the tears always passed, as did any issues that came up. I was terrified, but exhilarated. For the first time in a long time, I was living. I was on a real adventure, full of the great unknown.

RVing isn’t a passive experience. I huffed and puffed as I hauled hoses, dumped my tanks, checked my tire pressure, and broke every single nail. I fell asleep from sheer physical exhaustion. For years, I had a sedentary lifestyle where I used only my brain and arms, and now I was crouching, kneeling, leaping, crawling… Oh my God, you guys have no idea. Just to get into bed every night, I had to hop onto the back of my dinette and then jump onto my mattress and then do an army crawl in because I’m a damn shorty. RVing required my undivided attention. My mind was suddenly occupied with researching elevation, keeping an eye on the weather, reading my car manual in my downtime, and planning where I was going to go next.

The first couple of months were a lesson in survival, and I was constantly on the hunt for things I needed, of which there were too many to count. I started in February, and it seemed that I was always fleeing from one place to the next because of weather. I didn’t really get a break until I was four months into RV life. This was my first dry camping/off-grid experience. Before that, I’d been in RV parks and felt comforted by the presence of others, but what I really wanted was to be in the middle of nowhere by myself. But, where the hell did I go?

I had my fair share of worries: What if I broke down and had no cell reception? What if a bear tried to break in? What if there was some psycho lurking in the woods? I blocked it all out and stayed within two hours of my brother in Salt Lake City (just in case) and headed to the Uinta-Wasatch National Forest. I lost service, so I didn’t make it to the spot recommended by other campers, but out of sheer, dumb luck I found myself on a dirt road and saw other RVs in the distance. My people. LOL. I found a site in the middle of this meadow and parked.

Actual photo of what one of my nephews calls my ice cream truck.

I stayed here for almost a week. No electricity or running water. Harnessing sunlight to charge my laptop and cell phone and washing dishes in a bucket. It was primitive and simple, but that’s what I needed after being part of a world that complicated everything. Here, there was no urgency, fear, or anxiety. No one bothered me. Those that passed when I happened to be outside just held their hand up in acknowledgment and kept on going. All of us were out here seeking that elusive thing I’d been searching for. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was still and at peace. It was just me and the sun, a gentle breeze, and the occasional call of the hawks that soared overhead. I found myself sitting on my steps, staring out across the endless green, marveling that I was actually doing this… and surviving.

Nature reset me. I rose and fell with the sun. I saw more sunrises and sunsets in the past ten months than I have in a decade.

And I stared up at many starry, moonlit sky's.

For a time, I wandered. I didn’t think that far ahead. I was just living in the moment and enjoying the solitude. I couldn’t believe how little I actually needed to get by.

My brother would come out and camp with me when he could. He needed respite from his demanding job as an Executive Chef. He’d bring provisions, build a blazing fire, and we’d talk long into the night.

The thing about this lifestyle is that it cuts out all the white noise, distractions, and worries of daily life, so you can think clearly and dig down to what really matters. I’m a young (ish) woman by herself with two little dogs, and no one hassled me. If anything, people went out of their way to be helpful and offer advice on routes and where to go next. RVing restored my faith in humanity. If you listen to the news, you would be afraid to step outside your door, but I've had the privilege of meeting some of the nicest and most helpful people ever. I was at a laundromat in Heber City, UT and this woman in her 60s pulled up behind me to ask where I was from, where I was headed, and whether I had a blog or YouTube channel she could follow. We chatted for ten minutes or so before she thanked me for representing women on the road and wished me safe travels. This happened time and time again. I was invited to dinners and birthday parties by other campers, exchanged numbers, and have plans to visit my new friends in Arizona this winter.

I loved the laidback lifestyle and considered a career change. Maybe I could become a park ranger or, better yet, a camp host. I could live in gorgeous, remote areas, migrate during seasons, and live a quiet, fulfilling life. I was on the mend. My arms and hands weren’t giving me as much trouble since I didn’t spend so much time on the computer, and I was constantly outside, getting exercise and fresh air. I was better. I was happy. That’s all that mattered, right?

For a time, I lived in this euphoric daydream, but little by little, the haze began to clear and something that had been in hibernation began to stir. The being that whispered to me in my dreams, the one who had been with me since I was a child and stimulated my imagination, demanded my attention. I resisted, ignored, and then tried to placate it by writing other stuff, but it wasn’t satisfied and honestly, neither was I. I still had a major mental block and something was still off with my writing. I wasn’t in flow. I wasn’t living the stories, I was a tentative narrator.

I was sitting on some back road in Utah, pondering my life, my approaching 34th birthday, and my abandoned career when I acknowledged several key truths that changed my life.

On that fateful day, I admitted to myself that I didn’t feel like I could live up to the expectations for my stories. The fact that so much time had passed put the bar that much higher. I was afraid of putting out something that would kill the series, so I did nothing. On the heels of this thought, I realized how stupid that was. If I was able to start a series people were interested in, then I was good enough to finish it and even if it didn’t meet their expectations, it would be better to put out something that sucked then nothing at all.

I realized I was so terrified of publicly failing that I was trying to destroy my career. I was self-sabotaging to an extreme degree and had been for years because I never accepted my career. It sounds crazy because being an author is what I’ve always wanted, but I felt like Crime Lord’s Captive getting picked up was a fluke and eventually, everyone would realize I was a fraud, and it would all go away.

News flash: It didn’t.

Imposter syndrome is quite common. I hear writers talk about it a lot. This wasn’t mind-blowing, but the next revelation was a doozy.

I was kind of digging around inside myself, trying to self-diagnose (don’t recommend you doing this, get professional help) and get to the root of this not-accepting-writing thing and I hit upon another oddity. I never called myself a writer. I had been self-publishing for almost 10 years and was almost 20 books deep and had never claimed the title in real life. I always lied about what I did, preferring people to believe the worst of me instead of claiming my work. I had to ask myself: Why? More digging, and then I hit gold… or dynamite. Whatever.

Like Jasmine, I grew up in a strict, conservative household under a dictatorial father. He didn’t approve of my writing, so I learned to hide it. Even though I’m now an adult and able to support myself this way, I still harbored that childhood shame because I know he still feels the same way and doesn’t accept this part of me, which is a huge part of my identity. Some of my family, who know what I do and are aware of the content, equate my stories to porn, which reinforced my old beliefs.

This made me realize why I was so susceptible to the criticism—because I didn’t believe I deserved to be successful and I deserved to be punished.

This sounds crazy, I know, but maybe there’s some shit inside you that you don’t know is there. I never questioned why I was so miserable, why I was so embarrassed. Why I felt like I had to apologize for being me. People who accept themselves would fight back and throw up double middle fingers. Why did I put my tail between my legs? Because I’d never known true acceptance, even from myself.

This unraveled 33 years of programming. I decided to accept myself and my writing and stop self-sabotaging. To conquer my fears, I had to finish Bitter Secrets and the three installments of Carmen’s books, which I was holding back because I didn’t think they were good enough. This is a lame excuse and I’m done with that. I’m going to revise, rewrite, and publish all my unfinished work and then go on to complete the Singed Series and do all the other stories taking up space in my mind.

I started rewrites on Bitter Secrets in August and didn’t finish until the end of November. It probably took me twice as long as it should have because I’m still living on the road and I had to battle self-doubt every damn day, but I made it. The book is almost here and the satisfaction I feel, the pride that I actually finished and that the story is better than I believed possible, makes me feel as if I’ve made one million dollars even though I haven’t made a cent.

I focused so much on the negatives of social media, but there were obvious pros that I decided were worth coming back for. Why should the trolls drive me away from hanging out with my peeps? Before, I felt like I couldn’t say what I wanted because I was afraid of offending and didn’t want to deal with any resulting mob/drama and this time… I don’t care. I’ve been through too much to allow these people to shit on my parade. My happiness is hard-won, and it doesn’t come from their approval. It comes from within, and I’m going to surround myself with people who understand, accept, and actually like me. Life’s too short to hang out with assholes. If people don’t like my shit, I really don’t care. I write for myself and if others like it too, awesome. If not, there are millions of other authors who are much more articulate and talented. Go bother one of them. Geez. So, for all of you who are actually still reading this: Fair warning. When I come back to social media, I’m not taking the shit I did last time. I’m going to be blocking or even responding to these haters if the mood strikes me to get into mischief. If you hear someone say that I told them to go fuck themselves, it’s probably true. But, know that they must have said something really nasty, and they deserved to be put in their place. 😉

I know this was probably a little deeper than you were expecting, but I felt the need to share, and hope my candid honesty can help someone else in their struggles.

I still live in my RV, but I’ve rented a house for the time-being, so I can do all the work necessary to release Bitter Secrets. I haven’t been in a house longer than 4 days at a stretch for 10 months, and I am stoked to have a real kitchen, heat, hot showers, backyard for the dogs, a bed I don’t have to climb into, a couch, and countless other things that would make you stare at me like I’m cuckoo.

Although I love RVing, I’m hoping to get a home base this year, so I can complete Carmen’s books and sell paperbacks and do some other stuff that is much harder on the road. I have no idea where I’ll settle. I’m keeping an eye out, but my ideal place is some cottage in the country. Anyone have any ideas? LOL. I still plan to RV in my downtime, but would like to upgrade to a truck and trailer for more room now that I know what I’m doing. Life on the road has been pretty hard on my 14-year-old shitzu. I think settling down for a while will be good for him.

I spent my time in Arizona, Nevada, and Utah this year. I'm not sure what the next year holds, but I have to say, I really love this lifestyle. It forces me out of my head and into the moment, which has helped put things into perspective. It’s also given me the freedom I craved. I’ve learned to stop controlling everything and go with the flow. I’ve learned to be more patient, adaptable, and learn to trust myself again. I’ve never been a true outdoor person, but I’ve learned to love it. One day I went hiking and took this photo:

Another day I decided to take a ride and came upon this scene:

I have to say, I’ve had a great year. Challenging? Yes. Life-altering? Also, yes. These epiphanies helped open my mind and gave me the option to embrace who I really am and, in doing that, choose happiness. You don’t have to work at being you, but it’s exhausting playing a part. After I decided to embrace my life, I was asked by some man at a park what I do for a living. For the first time ever, I told the truth. “I’m a writer,” I said, and he didn’t bat an eye. “Cool,” he responded, and that was that. I was positively giddy. He had no idea, but he helped me step into my new destiny. I was honoring the pact I made with myself. No more hiding. Truth, acceptance, joy.

I’ve always had this idea of traveling around and doing a call-out when I land in a certain town. “Anybody live here? Anyone want to get coffee or have dinner?” I really hope I do this at some point. What’s the point of living on the road and being connected to all these people if you never meet them? Another thing I love about being on the road is all the people you cross paths with. I love hearing their stories, getting to know their personalities, and lifestyle choices. Fascinating and always good for book material 😉Would anyone be interested if I did this?? Warning: I’m reserved and look homeless, but once I feel comfortable I have a winning, sarcastic personality. 🤣

Anyway, I still haven’t had carpal tunnel surgery. I try not to spend too much time on the computer without breaks, and I am more active than I was before, which helps. I’m going to release the books as quickly as I can without compromising my health. I’ve learned slow and steady wins the race, so that’s what I’ll continue to do.

I wanted to thank all of you who have been so understanding and supportive through all of this. You couldn’t have known what was going on (shit, even I didn’t know what was wrong with me), but most of you suspected it was bad. It was, but I’m happy to return with renewed fire and a positive outlook. I plan to finish what I started and hope to share many more stories with you in future!

If you got to the end of this blog, whoa. Thank you for listening and can’t wait to share Bitter Secrets with you! 💛 Happy holidays!

Hi, everyone! Yes, I’m alive. Thank you to those who sent encouraging emails, messages, and comments. This has been a challenging, yet rewarding year for me. I’ll expand on that in a separate blog, but here, I want to focus on Bitter Secrets. The wait is almost over!

I finished rewrites on November 28 and was fortunate to find an editor (thank you, Emily!) on the 30. The editor’s deadline is December 20. Once I get the manuscript back, I’ll comb through the edits. Hopefully, that won’t take me longer than 2-3 days, and then I can set the pre-order, so it will launch on the same day on all retailers. I wanted to release by the end of December, but between the holiday closures and the 14-day pre-order requirements for one specific retailer, it may be pushed to early January. But, regardless of that, the release is right around the corner!

Bitter Secrets picks up three days after Bitter Heat ends and follows Roth and Jasmine through the first month of their arranged marriage. I’m breaking up the year into two installments—book 3 will document the other 11 months. For those who read the raw draft on Patreon, everything from part 1 and the chapters I showed of part 2 are all in here.

This baby is 137k words, my longest book yet. Bitter Heat is 90k words and my longest novel prior to Bitter Secrets was Awakened by Sin, which is 135k words. I talked in previous blogs about doing as little time jumps as possible. That’s true for this novel, which follows Roth and Jasmine day by day. I wanted to pay special attention to this point in their relationship when they’re adjusting to these new circumstances, testing each other’s limits, and grappling with their complicated, volatile past.

Arranged marriage/fake relationships is one of my favorite tropes, but this is a much more realistic take and made more intense by the fact that they’ve been married before, he was blackmailed by her father, and countless other factors that crank the story up a few notches.

This story could have gone in so many directions. I actually wrote a draft of Bitter Secrets before Bitter Heat was published. The plans I had at that time bear no resemblance to the book you’re about to read. I know the wait has been torture, but time has allowed me to expand the plot and delve deeper into the backgrounds and psyche of the characters to an extent I never imagined. I have pages of notes, charts, and even videos to help me keep the character’s secrets, motives, and future plot lines in order. Sometimes, I look more like a mad scientist than a romance author. LOL.

I am so damn proud of this novel because I had moments when I doubted whether I could do it justice. This story required more research than any other novel I’ve written. This is just a sample of some of the topics I looked into in an attempt to understand Roth and Jasmine’s world… with some sex inspiration thrown in as well. LOL.

I don’t know how many travel blogs I read or videos I watched in an effort to bring these exotic locations to life. This book really forced me out of my comfort zone, and I was terrified to get something wrong, but I did my best to get everything as accurate as possible and told myself that would have to be enough. I consoled myself with videos on YouTube like“Real Doctor reacts to Grey’s Anatomy” where he points out the liberties Hollywood takes. They aren’t concerned with getting anything right most of the time, they’re more focused on entertainment. I agree with Twain:

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.

—Mark Twain

I hope you guys like the new characters that are introduced in this book, the new locations, flashbacks to the beginning of Roth and Jasmine’s relationship, and of course, their battles as they try to sort out their feelings for one another. (Drop me a line after it drops and let me know which is your favorite! ;)) I realized so much about myself through writing this book. I noticed that sometimes my book reads more like a screen play because I’m directing the characters, and I actually said this sentence to my sister, “I’m not happy with the choreography in this scene.” I want to know where Jasmine is in the room, what she’s holding, and body movement like Jasmine swinging her leg back and forth to show she’s at ease when we know she’s anything but. I love adding sounds, taste, and touch like the rough wood grain beneath her hands as she braces herself on his desk… 😳 I freaking love dialogue—the nuances and undertones. It’s my favorite way of conveying information, and I live for a great one-liner that strikes you in the gut. There are so many facets to these characters and their world, and I surrendered to them completely. This book was truly a labor of love. Despite the length, this book is only 18 chapters. I think there’s 3 or 4 chapters dedicated to one day. The scenes roll into one another and there’s little to no gaps. It’s kind of crazy. Their story is emotionally draining and since I mirror them when I write, it left me feeling exhausted and hollow, but satisfied.

This book will always stick out in my mind for many reasons, but one of the main ones is because it was written before an audience on Patreon. I’d never shown anyone a first draft. It was nerve-wracking to show raw work, but the enthusiasm and support from the patrons spurred me on. Their comments gave me quite a lot to think about and helped me plant red herrings, breadcrumbs, and sow seeds of doubt. I cackled as they debated on Discord for hours afterwards. LMAO. I don’t think this book would be what it’s become if it wasn’t for their input, love for the characters and story, and unwavering support of me. Shout out to all of my patrons!

Even for my patrons who read the raw draft, I think they will find this an entirely different book, and not just because I added 15k words. I lost confidence in my writing after I published Bitter Heat. I wasn’t prepared for the insane backlash, being banned from a retailer, or having an ARC pirated. Although I pushed through and wrote the first draft of Bitter Secrets, I held back. Some scenes had 3 different versions of Roth—stoic Roth, angry Roth, and psycho Roth. Each version led to a different conclusion. I erred on the safe side with stoic/angry Roth, but when I dug into rewrites, I decided to write his authentic self, which means he’s a bit unhinged.

I was a little worried about how my patrons would react to the rewrites, since they liked the first draft as it was. In this version, Roth showed a lot more emotion and revealed more than I intended for this installment. I shared some snippets and was pleasantly surprised by my girls enthusiastic approval. There are only a handful of paragraphs that went untouched during rewrites. Flashbacks shown at the end were moved to the beginning, dialogue from different scenes were swapped here and there, and deleted scenes I cut from the rough draft were stitched in due to patron demand and threat of bodily harm. LOL.

Jasmine and Roth are some of the most complex characters I’ve ever worked with, and I’m so excited to share the continuation on their story with you! This isn’t the final, but if you want a sneak peek:

For those who were Bigger Baddies (the middle tier) the last month on Patreon, I can’t offer ARCs like I intended because of the raw draft being leaked, but on release day, I’ll send the draft you read on Patreon and the final ebook. As for Super Baddies, those who paid 2 months got ARCs (if you didn’t and think there’s been an error, feel free to email me). Also, Super Baddies, don’t forget to let me know if you want your name listed in the acknowledgments.

Once again, thank you all for your support!

Carmen’s three installments will be my next project after releasing Bitter Secrets!

Book 3, tentatively titled Bitter Confessions, will be completed once Carmen’s stories are concluded.

I will be returning to social media and hope to chat with you all prior to release and after, of course. I can’t wait to see the art you create and hear your favorite scenes/lines!

I’ve been on quite the personal journey this year and had quite a few life-altering epiphanies that led to me completing Bitter Secrets, deciding to come back to social media, and hopefully changing my life for the better. I opted out of having hand surgery and instead decided to take up a more active lifestyle where I didn’t spend so much time at a desk. It’s helped considerably. I do still have aches and cramps if I work too many hours at a time, so I try to avoid that, but I have more balance in my life and am much happier.

Once again, thank you to all who sent sweet emails and messages and never gave up on me. I think this blackout from social media and my business was necessary for me to sort myself out, so I could come back focused and determined to complete these projects. I’ll take you through all that in the next blog.

I hope you’re well. Can’t wait to hear what’s been going on with you all!

Happy New Year, everyone! Sorry this is coming so late, but things have been insane! I’m in the midst of a move.

Yes, another one.

November and December were really rough months for me. The pain in my hands has become excruciating so I finally stopped trying to find home remedies and went to the doctor and they’re recommending carpal tunnel surgery. Both of my hands are in pretty bad shape. No surprise since I never learned to type correctly until two years ago when I started using ergonomic/split keyboards.

To complicate matters further, in December my personal life kind of imploded and I realized the move I’ve been putting off was no longer optional. I was born and raised in Hawaii so I knew what to expect when I moved back in October 2019, but the pandemic changed everything. People from all over the country fled to the islands, overwhelming small towns and businesses. What should have been a temporary living situation for me turned into a permanent one because there was no housing available and it’s gotten increasingly toxic. I’ve tried to rent office space or apply for rentals, but none of it’s panned out. There just isn’t sufficient space for the influx of people and I think it’s going to be like that for years to come. Every day tasks have become incredibly time consuming and inflation has put everyone on edge. While incredibly beautiful, Hawaii has its limitations and (because of COVID), major restrictions. My last move was a bit traumatic, so even though I knew it wasn’t really working out here, I’ve turned a blind eye to a lot of things. But in December some events led me to a breaking point so… I’m moving.

I did a quick run to Vegas to get myself set up and am currently back in Hawaii wrapping things up and making arrangements to ship my dogs back with me. My 13-year-old Shih Tzu has no idea what’s coming. This will be his… third (?) time being transported back to the mainland? Poor guy.

I know everyone’s patience is running thin with all the delays, which I totally understand. But real life comes first and right now, mine is in shambles. Hawaii has always been difficult to move from, but the pandemic is adding another layer of complication and delays that makes my temples pound, but this is what life is like right now. It’s messy and frustrating and “normal” kinda doesn’t exist anymore. I’m going to move, have the surgery, and then finish these books. That’s the plan.

To my patrons who are supposed to get paperbacks—I have all your names down and will send them out when I publish. If you have any concerns, you can message me through my site.

If anyone is interested in signed paperbacks, I have a little stock and don’t want to ship the books back to the mainland. Message me through my website and I’ll let you know if I have that book and can give you a shipping quote. If you don’t hear back from me, I’ve most likely sold out since I have very limited inventory.

Once again, I apologize for another delay. I know that won’t pacify most, but that’s all I’ve got. I hope you guys are able to recommend amazing stories to each other in the meantime while I get my life together. I still fit in writing sessions when I can, but I can’t write more than an hour without my arms spasming. It usually takes around an hour for me to fall into the story. I used to warn people that I was, “going under” which means I’m gonna be deaf and dumb to the real world and let myself be taken away. It’s almost like hypnosis and these injuries interfere with that magic. It’s super frustrating, but I guess that’s the price we pay in this profession… or anyone who works at a desk.

I’m sorry for the haphazard and scattered blog, but I just wanted to let you guys know what’s going on with me. Although this move is proving to be super challenging and I don’t know what the future holds, a part of me can’t help being excited for a big change. The monotony of the past two years—of being cooped up, not being able to make plans, and fear—I’m pushing past all that and taking control again and damn, does it feel good. Instead of another predictable year in Hawaii, I have a completely blank slate. I’d rather take the wild card any day of the week than play it safe so while this move is proving to be challenging, I know it’ll be worth it in the end.

I hope you guys follow your heart in 2022 and that this year has amazing things in store for you. That’s what I’m believing for myself. Thank you to everyone who’s checked in on me. Yes, I’m alive and just as crazy as ever and yes, the stories are still coming out. I was actually planning on staying in Hawaii until I published, but it didn’t work out so they’ll be completed in the mainland. The characters are just as frustrated as I am and desperately want to be set free. They’re always there, just waiting for me to sit so they can finish acting out the scene I left them in. Having a fertile mind but an unwilling body is a different version of hell I hope you never experience. I hope all goes well with the surgery and very soon, I’ll be writing without pain.

I’ll be in touch.

You’re probably wondering what these snapshots are. Let me tell you. I was informed that this reader was sharing unpublished snippets of my work on Twitter. I don’t have a Twitter account and wasn’t about to join that hellhole just to look her up so I had someone do it for me and these were the snapshots I received. If you’re wondering who’s the whore she’s referring to, apparently that’s me. PT 1 of Bitter Secrets has 13 chapters, which is what she’s bitching about and apparently, she wants to make an epub, which is every authors worst nightmare. Now, you can understand the title of this blog: Some People Suck. And this person in particular.

I always knew it was a possibility that someone would steal my work, but after 6 months (to my knowledge) this person is the only one to do so. I like how she calls me a whore when she’s the one stealing one year’s worth of work from someone and apparently, feels perfectly within her rights to not only take, but distribute something that isn’t hers. The ARC of Bitter Heat was posted on a pirate site the day it published. I have proof of the ARC reader who did it because there was a watermark on every copy. Despite evidence, the reader vehemently denied it and accused me of sullying her name... I have no need to sully anyone. I don’t even care about most of this social bullshit, but when it comes to my work and people illegally distributing it, I don’t take it lightly.

It’s heartbreaking that this is the norm—readers ripping off authors work and think nothing of it. They think nothing of the hours you spend at your keyboard, the way you tossed and turned as you worried over that line in chapter six. They care nothing for the plot, characters, and most of all the author who has spent years honing their craft to bring a story to life. This person’s disdain is dripping from her words and yet, she wants something I produce. It’s like spitting in Lady Gaga’s face and then telling her to sing you a song. It just doesn’t make sense. People pay for music and movies without thinking, but books seem to be a, “Well, anyone can write.” Then, why don’t you write your own shit and post that?

Readers keep wondering why authors disappear. This is why. Not only does it take a ton of energy and effort to produce something, it gets stolen and pirated the moment you publish. It’s so disheartening that most writers give up. Why would you spend a year working on something for some asshole to give away what you slaved over for free? The entitlement of people like this turns my stomach and is the main reason why I left social media and have no intention of going back. I wonder how they would feel if I went to their job and didn’t pay for their services? Why do I have a feeling Samira would lose her fucking mind yet she thinks nothing of fucking someone else over? Well, I believe in karma so good luck, Samira.

Obviously, because of the lovely and eloquent Samira, my Patreon will be deactivated. The damage is probably already done, but I can’t take the risk of anything more being leaked when I’m still a ways away from publishing. My Patreon community has been so amazing. It’s awful that one person can turn something so positive and joyful into something sordid. All it takes is one rotten apple to ruin the whole basket. I have to remind myself that people like Samira are a minuscule percentage of my audience. When I was told about this, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do and was stunned when most of my patrons urged me to shut down my Patreon to protect my work. My readers are truly awesome.

A lot of authors walk away, but those who stay do so because they love stories. I know that shit like this is inevitable and we just have to focus on the bigger picture, which is the people who actually respect and support what we do. To those people, I absolutely love you. Thank you for looking out for us!

Sorry for the rant. Back to normal updates for sane readers:

“Roth,” she whispered, but when his grip tightened, she corrected herself. “Jamie.”

“Jamie's the man you want me to be,” he said as he ground against her, “but I can’t.”

Her eyes pricked with tears. “I don't understand.”

He released his hold on her throat and stroked her cheek. “I know.”

When she would've asked more questions, he covered her mouth with his.

Draft of Bitter Secrets © 2021 Mia Knight

So, my update is that I made great progress in October, but I'm not 100% happy with with the story at the moment. I can't help but feel I took a wrong turn a little ways back. I'm running through ideas on how to fix the things I don't like or whether I have to scrap some a scene or two to make the flow better...

Aside from my current predicament in the story, I'm stoked with PT 2 and am enjoying it more than PT 1 because I don’t have to hold back and neither do the characters. I have to tread carefully when writing Jasmine and Roth. One stray line of dialogue can change the dynamic of the scene and lead me in a direction I hadn’t planned on.

There are a bunch of doozies in PT 2 and I don't think I've ever cried so much while writing a book. There's something about Roth and Jasmine that gets me right in the feels. The scenes with them go on for pages. Sometimes a whole chapter or two is dedicated to one long scene where they’re just talking. IDK how interesting it’s going to be for others, but for me who doesn’t know anything until they say it, I’m enthralled.

I’m finishing up PT 2 and will then move onto revisions!

October was a crazy busy month, but I got a lot done, so I'm happy about that! I rested my arms, hoping that would help with the pain, but I realize the compression gloves, braces, and stretches are going to be a long-term thing. The stretches help the most and I always stop when I feel that ache creeping back. I have a certain threshold of hours I can write before I hit my max and have to stop. Frustrating, but it is what it is.

The heat is finally waning here in Hawaii and I actually put on socks and a long sleeve the other night. LOL. I chopped off my hair to a manageable shoulder length and am looking forward to the holidays. I changed my number so had to contact my friends to keep them up to date… all 6 of them. LMFAO. Most of my friends are retired so they responded immediately. I had a couple days of catching up at lunch or on the phone, which was really nice. We all lost touch during the pandemic so it was great hearing what they’re up to and plan future visits. It’s when you talk to someone you haven’t talked to in a while that you realize how much shit has happened.

Everything is so uncertain. It’s been such an extended amount of time of chaos and insanity that I think I’ve finally reached the point of not caring. I was skipping around our hectic little town the other day as I did errands, humming to myself as I stood in unmoving lines, and waited patiently to cross a street where people were in too much of a hurry to stop. I refuse to let what’s happening in the world to affect my health or mindset, so I force myself to do stupid, silly, simple things to remind myself I’m human and that this will pass. I drew pictures of pirates with my nephew on Facetime and the other day, was playing with Play-Doh. (Don’t ask). When I do things like this, it brings my stress levels down and reminds me not to take everything so seriously. There’s time for action, but you also have to know when you need to rest. A part of me is still half-convinced that we’re living in a movie. My storyteller mind is part fascinated, part horrified that I’m living through such a tumultuous time in history, but we were born for such a time as this, right?

I’m grateful for my family, my work that I get to lose myself in, and all of you. Thank you for being a part of my journey and caring. I wish you all the best and hope that we go back to rebuilding communities rather than every man for himself. We won’t survive that way, so reach out, be kind, and enjoy the holidays since we’ve had precious few things to celebrate.

Only someone with no sense of self-preservation would agree to such high stakes. Roth was dangerous, bitter, secretive, violent, and so much more, but… he was the only person in the world who brought her to life. He challenged, horrified, sated, and comforted her. No one else made her feel like him. He could make the rest of the world cease to exist for her. He understood things about her she had never told another living soul. She didn’t know why she had this connection with him, why it had stayed intact all these years. It shouldn’t have and she wished to God it hadn’t, but the ties between them hadn’t been severed by distance, time, or their tumultuous history. She wasn’t sure what would cause that final break, but it would come. It was inevitable.

Draft of Bitter Secrets © 2021 Mia Knight

Hey guys, sorry I haven’t been posting. I hurt my hands/wrists/arms and have been taking a much-needed break. I’ve been spending so much time on the computer whether that’s on website stuff, writing blogs/the book, and everything else that arm cramps were waking me up at night. I realize if I don’t slow down and take care of myself, I’ll be having carpal tunnel surgery before I reach 35 and the books will take even longer. So, I’m reducing my time spent on the computer and taking care of my hands by doing stretches and wearing braces.

I think weekly blogs are a bit too much and also, getting weekly comments where people are constantly complaining that I’m taking too long or telling me to go fuck myself gets old. So, for my physical and mental well-being, I think I’m going to do a beginning/end of the month update and leave it at that.

Although this book is driving me up the wall, I have to say, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed a story more. I’m not sure if it’s the compelling characters, the richness of their world that feels even more real than my own, or if I’m simply obsessed, but something about this feels so novel. I’ve never been so challenged or so heavily rewarded by the characters for being such a good… servant? Steward? Not sure what you would call it, but I feel that stories (like ideas, songs, etc) go from person to person, just hoping someone will bring them into existence. And I feel that this story is quite special. I’m not deluded enough to think that it’s gonna be a bestseller or anything like that, but I’ve connected on such a personal level with these characters that I have no intention of putting out something that I am not 100% proud of and tells their story in it’s entirety.

I think people are so impatient nowadays. We live in a insta-world. No one spends time on anything. Relationships are easily discarded. So are projects, objects, and other things. It’s rare to find someone willing to put in weeks, months, or even a year into something. I’m not sure how much I’ll make off of this book. There is no guaranteed set amount, yet I spend every day diligently tapping the keys, patiently working with the characters so we get this right. It’s a labor of love. I’m not motivated by money, which is why I’m willing to do things other authors won’t. I mean, thank God I don’t have dependents and I’m able to be an artist who has the luxury of chipping away at the marble every day, knowing that little by little, something timeless is taking shape and will be circulating long after I’m gone.

I wasn’t sure if I was too in love with what I was doing and I was writing garbage so I put out a couple chapters of PT 2 to my patrons. I have the writers version of stage fright, which means putting out my work literally makes me sick. In a way, Patreon has been a blessing and a curse because it forces me to churn out work, rain or shine, and get used to showing imperfect stuff. (I know there’s no such thing as perfect, but when you publish, it’s as close as possible and people still say you’re a fucking loser. So, putting out raw stuff was horrifying, but I think it’s been a great, healthy experience and helped me to stop editing/overthinking so much). Maybe that has also contributed to the joy I’ve felt writing this book? Writing a story while hundreds of people are walking beside you has been disconcerting, stressful, but also humbling and delightful. There’s been this fascinating give and take with the patrons that has made me consider things I normally wouldn’t have and taken me on detours that have become poignant turning points in the book.

I’ve been going at a breakneck pace for months and yet, the story is still unraveling. My word count estimate for PT 2 is around 190k words. So, it looks like Bitter Secrets is actually going to be 3 full books split into 2, which is what happened last year with Carmen’s story. So, although people are annoyed with me, it’s actually because I’m writing 3 full novels back to back, not one. (Of course this makes no difference to assholes, but I’m just saying…) I’m going to take all the time that I need for my health and the characters and just know when it finally comes out, it’ll be the best I could make it.

Oh, and from the feedback I’ve seen, the patrons enjoyed what I’ve shown of PT 2! Here are some of the comments:

I let my patrons know about my hands. I won’t be posting in October so whoever is an existing patron won’t be charged. I’m going to be offline finishing up PT 2 and editing the raw draft and coming back to post PT 2 once it’s complete.

Shout out to my patrons who have been so generous, supportive, and positive and thank you to those who still recommend me despite my major gap in releases. When I am ready to publish, it’ll be with a vengeance. Bitter Secrets will be split into 2 lengthy books and Carmen’s will be just as ridiculous, so keep the faith. It’ll be worth it in the end.

I hope you all are doing well and do at least one thing that makes you happy. Things are so restricted that we have to appreciate the little things so take care of yourself, be kind, and grateful that you’ve come this far. We’re gonna make it through!

“Want to join the mile high club?”
She sucked in a breath as his hand splayed over her stomach. “No.”
“Maybe on the way back.”
She had to use both hands to yank his paw away from her skin. She held it away from her like a snake. “Maybe never,” she retorted.
“We’re joining the club,” he said lazily. “You choose when, I’ll choose how.”

PT 2 is turning out to be just as difficult as PT 1, but I have to say, I’m enjoying this part more. In every chapter there’s a surprise for me, something I never saw coming. I don’t think I’ve ever been caught off guard so many times. These chapters demand so many rewrites just on the first draft, which is incredibly unusual. Usually you can write a sloppy first draft and just be happy you finished, but these chapters are so intertwined, I can’t move on unless it’s close to final. It’s fucking annoying, but that’s just the way this book demands to be written. High-maintenance characters, I tell you…

I hope you guys like dialogue because it seems like there’s chapters where they’re just talking about… everything. But, in this case, it’s much needed. I’ve never had an issue where the characters have too much history, but I think Jasmine and Roth just might be the exception. They have so many obstacles and things to discuss, I’m totally overwhelmed. And then Roth decides to drop these bombs and ruins my plans for each chapter. He’s an ass. But, it’s his book so…

I personally love men’s monologues and particularly Gavin’s. I didn’t think Roth would have those because he isn’t that type, but I was pleasantly surprised when he proved me wrong. When he’s ready to put it all on the line, he turns into a chatty Cathy… an angry one.

Let’s hope I make a lot of progress this week and Roth and Jasmine fucking behave! Wish me luck. Hope you’re all having a great week!

She was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize Roth was watching her until he ran a finger down her cheek. She glanced at him and felt the hairs on the nape of her nape stand up.

“What was the last thing he said to you?” he asked softly.

She swallowed the last of her champagne and resisted urge to cough as the bubbles tickled her throat. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Did he hit on you?”

Her heart jumped, but she played it off by waving her hand and averting her eyes. “French sounds seductive no matter what you say.”

“Did he hit on you, Jasmine?”

When she opened her mouth to deny it, he crowded her, one arm wrapping around her back while his hand covered hers on the table.

“Don’t lie for him.”

“It doesn’t matter what he said.”

“So he did.” Roth’s flicked to the door even though he was long gone. “He’ll pay for that.”

“Roth.”

His cold gaze shifted back to her. “You didn’t let him kiss you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Was I supposed to?”

The hand on the table moved to her face and traced her jawline with piercing focus before he reached her chin and applied pressure to tilt her face up. She let out a startled grunt when his mouth covered hers. When she tried to pull away, he cupped her nape. When their mouths parted, he trailed kisses to her ear.

— Draft of Bitter Secrets © 2021 Mia Knight

Still making my way through this book, but making good progress! I’m enjoying this second part of the story much more than the first because I can let go of the reins a little more. Something with writing a series, you’re always holding something back. It’s really hard to restrain yourself from rushing a scene, from revealing too much too soon and ruining character development because you want to get to the next stage in their relationship. But, because there’s only one book after this, I get to unload all the goods in this second part of Bitter Secrets, which makes me a tad giddy. It’s just a matter of figuring out the best time and place to release these bombshells that will set up the final book.

My arm is feeling a lot better. I’ve been taking a lot more breaks to give my muscles and tendons a rest instead of sitting at my keyboard all day.

I’m in some tentative negotiations for an office space, so we’ll see how that pans out. My only option is to sublet since there is nothing available. That kinda sucks, but it’s better than nothing. I’ve also inquired about some rentals across the island, but it’s so competitive even to rent here. Real estate has always been scarce, but with so many people moving from the mainland, I’ve never seen such slim pickings, which means I have to stay put and make do with where I am.

And, on that note, I still haven’t gotten my hair done. I’ve been calling all these hair places in town but they either have full inboxes so you can’t leave a voicemail, don’t return your calls, or the best was when I requested an appointment and they called back and said they didn’t have any availability. They didn’t ask if I could wait 2 weeks or until next month. They just said, “We don’t have anything.” Because I’m such a hermit and rarely venture off our property, I just shrugged this off until a couple night ago. I had my hair piled up on my head (because it’s so bloody hot) and I was getting a headache because my hair is so thick and heavy. I was staring at myself in the mirror and I snapped. I didn’t shave my head or hack it all off, I just cut off a couple inches. My hair was at my freaking waist—the longest it’s ever been since I was in first or second grade. Just taking a few inches off made such a huge difference. Since I can’t get into a salon, my only other option is to call Supercuts and even they have turned me away. Hopefully, I’ll call on a day where they aren’t so busy. That’s the only option left to me unless I want to drive an hour to the next town… and I have a feeling they are just as crowded as we are. Sigh. Remember when everyday tasks weren’t a trial? Yeah, me neither.