June 29, 2015

It Goes Where?

Once again I'm journeying into the realm of writing romance. Or should I say Paranormal Romance.

I'm not a great romance writer, I'll admit it. The sexual tension stuff is fine but when it comes to the characters actually 'doing it' my writing gets clunky and technical. I have to stop and think now what happens next and what fits where? You would think I'd never done this before!

Hopefully, it will all turn out. There's only one or two scenes in my book and I will ask my husband to proof read it first. For some strange reason, he's good at breaking up these scenes and telling me what's missing. I'll just be happy that he doesn't do this in real life.

So...look for a semi-steamy scene or two in The Good Girl's Guide to Being a Demon. It will be out this fall. And for those of you who read paranormal romance, you can let me know if I'm doing it right.

June 25, 2015


The husband and I were supposed to have date night tonight, but that turned into eating cereal out of salad bowls and watching an Indie movie from Redbox.

The movie clearly stated that there was 'graphic nudity' which my husband seemed okay with (surprise, surprise). I told him it would serve him right if the nudity was all male, full frontal and loaded.

Of course, it wasn't.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have grown up on the opposite side of the gender fence. Boys are raised in a culture where they can't get away from seeing naked boobies (and more) in the movies, on the internet, and even on TV. Girls are raised to endure it.

But wouldn't life be different if the thong was on the other cheek? If we gals grew up seeing naked men in cinema so often it rarely made us blink, while men could just hope and pray that in that movie they might get a peek at a nipple.

I really don't mind nudity in the movies, but I do mind the sexism. If we are lucky we get to see an old guy, bare butted, tottering his way over to the public bath.

It's an interesting world we females live in, but we accept it. All the breasts on the movie screen (which are always round and firm and perfect), all the 'spring break videos' featuring slightly drunken, twerking females, and all the films featuring guys whose girlfriends are half their age.

I think its time for a major switcharoozie! If I want to be depressed looking at breasts, I'll just stare at my own :)


June 24, 2015

Hello Sunshine?

What I hope I'll look like
Trying out Glam Lights on my hair. The box assures me its easy and if its good enough for Blake Lively it's good enough for me.

Of course, I've tortured my hair a lot this year. So much, in fact, that I had to have a big chunk of it cut off at a fancy salon in Vegas. What I was left with is only describable as a Euro Mullet (meaning short in front, long in back, and the stylist assuring me that this is all the rage in Italy).

Its finally grown out a little and I'm no longer wearing it back all the time (or in my writer's ponytail) but that may change after these highlights hit my head.

Still, I'm always one to experiment. If I go bald perhaps I'll just audition for the next Mad Max film.

This creature with a straw head. | 18 Cute Animals Having A Worse Hair Day Than You
What I will probably end up with!
Come on pretty bouncy shiny hair!

April Aasheim

For Writerly News

If you're looking for my author website be sure to visit www.aprilaasheimwriter.com. This site will have all my writerly news including new releases and contests.

April Aasheim

June 23, 2015

Sometimes They Don't Come Back

I had the best day yesterday, sitting outside in the cool morning air, typing away on my computer, happy with the words that were coming out.

My cat was outside with me. I had bought him a LONG tie cord and a kitty harnass and tied him up the swing in the back yard. He seemed pretty happy as well, meowing and smelling things like he does. For a moment I thought our eyes met and we were both like 'yeah, life is good'.

And then I looked up again, not twenty minutes later, and kitty was gone. Gone gone. Gone as in alien abducted gone.

The funny thing is the tie out was still there, and so was the harness. Neither looked as though they'd been messed with. It was like kitty had suddenly lost a few pounds of his winter Fancy Feast weight and just disappeared.

I immediately panicked. Boots is not an outdoor cat. He likes to pretend he is, hissing at the squirrels that prance by our back window, but he's a kitty of leisure. I feel bad about it sometimes but he was fixed when he was just 12 weeks old and doesn't have a fighting spirit. There are tons of stray Toms around (not to mention cars) and I think his chances of real survival outside are about as good as mine were someone to drop me off in the woods with only a photograph of what my home looked like and a queer sense that monsters exist somewhere in the forest.

I combed the neighborhood for nearly an hour, embarrassing myself by calling out "here Bootsie, Bootsie" until even the old guy who mows his lawn in nothing but Speedos thought I was going insane.

At last, I hear this horrifying yowling sound and it doesn't sound like my cat, at least the cat I know, but I run towards it sure that its another cat eating mine, or at the very least, my cat has gotten run down by the Speedo wearing lawn-mowing man.

It was the neighbors cat, yowling and rolling around a bush like he'd just risen from the Pet Cemetery. He's an outside cat, and if you ask me, I'm not sure his owners are all too fond of him. I think he must have fallen from a tall building in his youth and didn't' land on his feet. For a moment I looked at this pathetic creature and he looked at me. We were both alone and lost. I thought, 'well if Boots is gone maybe i can take this wretched creature in'. It must be my maternal instinct. Love something. Nurture something. Just make sure they have vocal cords to remind you when to feed or water them or they are screwed (sorry plants outside!)

But then, just as I bent over to scoop him up (yes, crazy I know, but I was a grief stricken cat mommy), I see two gold eyes peering at me from the ginormous bush behind Pet Cemetery cat.


I can not begin to tell you how happy I was to see my fat little cat, all quivering and shaking from the safety of the bush. I said sorry to crazy kitty and picked up my own, petting him and cooing to calm him. He gave me a look that said "Thank God you've arrived. Did you see how freakish that other cat was? Scared the bejeezus out of me."

He has been sleeping nearly steadily these last 24 hours, as if he were a PTSD victim coming back from a tour in the Middle East.

He looks out his window now and again, but the gleam in his eyes are gone. Even the squirrels don't offer much temptation anymore. He has seen the world and he wants nothing of it.

At least until the next time.

April Aasheim

June 22, 2015

What's Up...

I realize I haven't been posting lately. I've been working hard on finishing up the third installment of my Daughters of Dark Root series and The Curse of Dark Root is finally done! Finally!

I'm getting faster at writing, I guess. This one is 80,000 words long and took me nine months to write four drafts. Of course, the last few months were exceptionally long days (maybe 12-14 hours per day) but I love the story so much and it was worth it. And whenever I think 'writing is hard' I have to remember the days when I waited tables or cleaned houses. That was hard work. And even though I've had cushier jobs since those days, I still know how blessed I am that I get to wake up every day and realize my dream.

Yes, writing is hard, but its a labor of love. It doesn't always come out the way I envisioned it but sometimes, if the moon is right, it comes out even better.

I'll try and stay more current now.

Here's to a lovely summer!

April Aasheim

Meditations on The Shadows of Dark Root

I may have gotten a bit metaphysical during the creation of The Shadows of Dark Root. I always knew I wanted Maggie and her companions to j...