Posted on by sarahmichellelynch

A Year’s Writing

The year began with the completion of The Ravage Trilogy, releasing part three Beneath the Exile in February. It was honestly a very difficult thing to say goodbye to that body of work. I still feel like Beneath the Exile is one of the best books I may ever write. I took myself to depths I didn’t like to make that book possible. It’s not really genre-specific or definable, The Ravage Trilogy, it is simply three books about how a small band of heroes might try to save the world after a viral outbreak. It’s about friendships and ass-kicking. It’s mostly about one woman, who started out life not well but triumphed, found herself in an extraordinary set of circumstances and was forced to become the person she was meant to be. We writers all feel we know our characters; they will always remain old friends, vital spirits that become immortalised in print. It was so difficult to say goodbye to Seraph, Ryken, Camille, Eve, Mara, Nathan, Connie… et al

But, I finished that book and moved straight onto the one that had been brewing in my head – A Fine Profession (called The Chambermaid to begin with).

Lottie’s story was one I had straight in my head before I began writing. She was promiscuous for a reason, not even promiscuous – I guess more like searching for something. On a journey to a place she wanted to get to but just couldn’t quite make it. It some ways the book is more character study than romance. Her story complete, there were things to be considered. Did Noah warrant a story of his own? Of course he did. So I had to make a few snips in A Fine Profession, a few tweaks here and there, to make A Fine Pursuit possible. His story was one I felt should be told with brutal honesty because after all, Lottie herself was brutally honest too.

So, the trilogy added to the Chambermaid series (A Fine Profession, A Fine Pursuit, Bedtime Confessions) equals 642,000 words. Also, when I was a journalist, sometimes I used to pump out as much as 4,000 a day. So seven years of that… go figure. Me and words have a big thing going on here and it has taken over my life, as you can probably tell. I hardly have time to breathe sometimes. I have a child and a husband, a life, so there’s little time for social networking and blogging etc. Which is difficult, because you need to be able to do those things to get your books out there.

The latest book Angel Avenue, a mere 100K (ha ha, that’s like what 742K now) spilled out very quickly. Why? Well, it was already in my head too. I am working through a backlog of stories here and it’s finally cleared, for now (I guess) until the next voices start speaking to me. So… Angel Avenue, is just a story fuelled by something I notice going on around me quite a lot. A while ago I was asked to write a short story about bullying for a charity thing and I had the basics down (but I knew it should be a novel). So those tendrils were there and it was just a matter of getting it out.

One thing that became evident to me when writing Angel Avenue is that a standalone novel is much harder to write than a duo or a trilogy or a collection of short stories. Not harder in terms of skill or craftsmanship; more difficult in the sense that once it’s done, that is it. You’re done. Forever. You have to get everything out there about those characters and know that you’re done, within one book. Not two or three. There can be no going back then. I edited and edited and edited this book, Angel Avenue. The editing was intense and it produced something I feel immensely proud of. It’s one singular unit and it comes full circle and in my mind, I feel happy about what I created, what I achieved. I also feel very sad because the Jules and Warrick of Angel Avenue live on, but not with me, with all the people who will read it. I gave them a story that means you can decide for yourself what happens next. I have learnt to write so that people will be left wanting more (and unfortunately it leaves me wanting more too but that is the price I must pay).

I am also making headway in becoming an editor. We need editors. They are the bedrock of publishing. Now I have been on both sides, I can tell you. An editor can be the third person and look down on a work without emotional attachment and make decisions that you as the writer might otherwise find difficult. An editor can tell you where things can be pulled and still, the book makes as much of a point as you wanted it to. I have made some calls on other people’s books this year which have made me more confident in crafting my own work.

Five amazing things about this year:

– I got people reading erotica who never would have done before.

– I have reached Australia, Florida, Nevada, California and so many other countries, it’s unreal. I’ve also met some other amazing writers both here and elsewhere.

– People are telling me that they are going back to the start of the catalogue after discovering one of my books.

– I discovered that it pays to have confidence in what you’re doing.

– Trying out new things can pay dividends.

I have written hundreds of thousands, probably millions, of words. I am still learning, all the time. How do I do this? Why do I do this? Read Angel Avenue. This is why I do this. Simply and truthfully, this is a true love, one I found many years ago. One that will always be here for me. The books I write will always be there for people’s enjoyment. My skill will always be at my fingertips. It’s been a good year. I am an extremely lucky, if emotionally wrecked, writer. Writing is not something I do, it is something I am. Because I have to do it, I make time for it. But with the backlog cleared, it’s time to rest and recoup. *and breathe*

Posted on by sarahmichellelynch

99 pence bookshelf…

Go to my AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE now to download any of my books for 99pence in the run-up to this Friday’s release of A Fine Pursuit, the sequel and conclusion to A Fine Profession…

A Fine Profession WEBSITE USE

Posted on by sarahmichellelynch

Some great 5 ***** reviews… a happy author

I received a great review from a fellow author for my erotic novel, A Fine Profession…

Though it’s billed as chick-lit, A Fine Profession by Sarah Michelle Lynch is much more than that simple genre tag allows. What I discovered between these electronic pages is an involved story that’s engaging in ways as to draw the interests of both sexes. To label it as mere chick-lit or erotica serves only to lure a certain segment of readers while keeping others at bay.

This is the story of Lottie, a practitioner of all things sexual, hence the erotica label. But the story delves deeper into the human condition, examining the choices made by this one woman. Lottie is the one telling the story of her own sexual awakening, spilling her secrets to Heath, a private investigator sent to track down this mysterious Chambermaid. The sex scenes certainly call for an audience of 18 years of age and older; but don’t be turned away. Lynch has crafted a well-written story filled with fleshed-out characters that are as real as any literary characters I’ve ever read. We learn of Lottie’s childhood battle with illness, of her struggles with early-adulthood responsibilities, and of the true love she seeks. But just who sent this private investigator to track down the Chambermaid? You’ll have to purchase your own copy to get answers. This is a book I feel safe in recommending. I don’t normally read erotica, but A Fine Profession offers so much more than simple sex. I rate Lynch’s novel 5 out of 5 stars.

Not long later, I received another great review from another fellow author, for Beneath the Veil…

The story that unfolded before me as I read the pages of this paperback entranced me. The main character, Seraph, is an edgy and ‘dangerous’ reporter in the future time of 2063, a reporter with more flare than Lois Lane, and more reason to hold a grudge; in this future vision, the world is recovering from a viral disaster, and Seraph is in the middle of it all, taking her chances to tap her sources.

However, all is thrown in the air when it is revealed that her last surviving, much loved and revered relative, is dead. She hot steps it
from New York to York, Yorkshire, to attend the funeral and pay her respects. Yet there is more here than meets the eye, and from one of the last remaining wedding dress shops where said relative, Eve, had spent her life, an underground network of mystery and betrayal is discovered.

Intertwined with this, Seraph finds herself falling in love with a Dr, a man who was supposedly fired from the large corporation that now runs most of the world’s resources.

I truly enjoyed this novel and read a part every time I have an opportunity, and on my free day, I finished the last half in almost one gulp. A truly energised and inspired read, reminding me much of Resident Evil meets James Bond, though it is neither of these things and yet can borrow from both simultaneously. It is fast, sensual, exciting, and mischievous.

If I had to pick one thing to critique, it would be that the character viewpoints are mixed throughout a large portion of the book, meaning that in one scene you hear and know what more than one character is thinking, which can get a little confusing, (for example, the scene is all about Seraph walking through a room, thinking things over, but then her love interest’s thoughts come in from his perspective in the same paragraph.) However, that said, this is the first novel by this author and such things are easily looked over when you are as involved with the story as I was.

The ending is good, and I look forward to purchasing the next book in the series and finding out what happens next.

See my Amazon Author Page here for more reviews and all the books!

 

Posted on by sarahmichellelynch

Excerpt from Beneath the Veil… one of my personal favourites

The milliner had been given only two hours to deal with her target. She had arranged it so that he would come to her. It was imperative she got in, and got out. She couldn’t risk her identity. As far as the authorities knew, she wasn’t even in the country, so being caught would spell certain catastrophe for not only her – but the cause too.

She was dressed casually, and with her hair pulled back into a tight bun, she looked just like any other library frequenter – except for the black ballet pumps laced firmly around her ankles – easier to perform in. No-one would presume that she was one of the deadliest creatures on the planet.

She sat at the end of a long, wide, wooden desk, reading Balzac quietly, with a polystyrene cup containing her espresso to hand. Even though she could barely see her surroundings, she resisted the temptation to switch on one of the desk lights, knowing the dim lighting would allow her more of the element of surprise. This part of the New York Public Library, the rare books section – with its crowded shelves but few visitors – was deserted save for her.

Like clockwork, he appeared. Smart navy-striped suit, possibly Saville Row. Grey hair, broad shoulders, bulky physique. There were three desks between hers and the one he had chosen to sit at.

******

As far as he was concerned, he was finally getting to meet a representative of the group he had risked so much for. He had sold out some good people to finally get his fingers in a few pies. This was everything he had ever wanted. Money, power, success. He could smell it, taste it almost, and he wore his best suit for the occasion. That morning, when he got the message to meet, he had not thought for a second that he would be placing himself in danger. He was not even concerned that the message came from an unknown source. He was simply overtaken by excitement at finally getting what he deserved. Status.

He had joined the resistance to get knowledge of their inner workings, hoping it would gain him respect from Officium if he could find out enough about their enemy. He was fed up of being an underachiever, a mediocre excuse for a man, and a disappointment to his wife and son. He’d never been fit and strong enough to become an agent, since a childhood illness left him without his left foot. He needed more than to be a simple tailor, in a dwindling and dying market. When a client of his, Hamish Maddon, told him about a resistance group he knew of, he had leapt on the opportunity to get in on it. He made promises about using his clientele to gather information. But he had secretly had a very sinister, ulterior motive. He had unwittingly given up Maddon, who had died along with his wife, after he had revealed the location of RAO’s meetings in New   York. However, he had not carried out the act, so as far as he was concerned, he was without sin or recrimination. He simply knew he needed more from life, that’s all, and now he was there – deliriously expectant.

A mildly attractive woman suddenly appeared before him, standing with a book in hand. She smiled sweetly and asked, ‘Excuse me, but do you have the time? I can’t seem to find a single clock in this place.’

‘Of course,’ looking down at his watch, he said, ‘It’s a quarter to two.’

‘Thanks so much, that’s very kind of you.’ She continued smiling at him and stayed standing there. He felt it would be too rude to ask her if there was anything else, but his contact could arrive at any moment, and he became anxious.

She noted, ‘I hear the police are making headway into finally getting hold of the person responsible for the Maddon killings. You know, the heart surgeons? Apparently their loss will now mean at least four dozen people will have to wait six months longer for bypasses.’

He looked up at her face, shock spreading across his. He wondered, but it couldn’t possibly be… He had been so careful… hadn’t he? He nervously stood up. He looked into her eyes, but he struggled to gauge what was behind them. She stood there with hardly any expression whatsoever. That scared him more than anything.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.                                                                                    

‘I’m a friend of the dressmaker. You might have heard of her?’

He wanted to bolt out of the place. He was desperate to just start running.

‘Yes, it was a grave shame about the Maddons. Their daughter is without both her parents now. Imagine that, a young woman without her mum and dad. Being without one would certainly be bad enough, but without both…’

She didn’t seem intimidating, standing there casually holding her book between both hands in front of her. However, her words almost shocked the life out of him. He started to move away from behind the desk to make his escape. However, her book suddenly fell and he was drawn by its flight toward the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an almost inhuman shadow move with incredible velocity. She leapt up onto the desk he had moved away from, suddenly threw her body in the air and expertly sent a foot crashing into his chest to ensure he had taken his last breath. Then there was nothing. His mass fell to the floor, and she walked toward the exit to the stairwell.