October 1st, 2025
Happy October!
The Northwoods is shifting into Fall. The maples have that gorgeous crimson flare going on. The birches are fading into gold. And every so often you get the scent of woodsmoke. Leaves scatter across my lawn like forgotten letters, their edges curling with secrets only the season seems to know. October reminds me that the year is fading fast, that time is fragile, and that the stories we hold back can vanish like smoke unless we set them free.
I have titled and untitled manuscripts on my desk, each one with voices that demand to be heard. Some days sitting at this desk feels like a battlefield. Other days, it’s a sanctuary. It’s also where grief has poured out in ink, where love has been disguised as loss, and where betrayal has found a second life on the page. I love this writing area in my cabin. It’s the perfect place to write, especially when the world turns dark so early, like it does in October, and I can write by candlelight. There’s just something about that candle glow casting shadows over my desk. And listening to the dark classical piano music adds to the ambiance while I watch out the big window in front of me, and the window to my right.
My ideal writing hours are spent by candlelight, with classical music playing softly, snow falling past the windows, and the fire crackling in the background. When I leave this world, that is where my soul will rest; the after place I often dream of. So now, I write at my desk in anticipation for the arrival of that first snowfall.
This month I have small writing goals. First, is to finish editing, Her Last Betrayal. Second, is to write my October newsletter and get that sent out to you. Third goal, is to enjoy each and every day. I need to really focus on that one. That can feel hard at times.
I hope this letter finds you well. See you next month! I’ll have some new things on my author’s desk to share with you.
My current desk setup
Right now, the candle flickering beside me is Cinnamon Snow, clove and cinnamon scented. It’s one of those $5 finds from Menards that somehow makes the whole room feel like October. When you burn candles for hours every day, you learn to appreciate the simple ones that never let you down. And on the edge of my table, my hanging plant that keeps me company, stretching toward whatever slant of sunlight manages to slip through the window this time of year, which isn’t much. But it’s nice to have the company.
Book Trailer for The Ghostwriter
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Writing Playlist
I love to listen to dark classical piano, the haunting music pieces, as I write. Right now, this playlist is keeping me company as I write. I love listening to the piano, and the ones with the fire crackling in the background.
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My October Goals
🔲 Finish editing, Her Last Betrayal.
🔲 Send out my newsletter to you.
🔲 Repot my new plants.
🔲 Pick up some more candles that will get me through the month. The boutique in town carries my absolute favorite candle scent. It’s only available in the Fall. I’ll share that with you when I am able to get my hands on some.
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Lines from, Her Last Betrayal
Sometimes I wonder if silence is the cruelest language of all.
Hours stretched like years, and your name still tastes like a vow on my tongue.
All the words I never said gather like ghosts in my chest.
Never did I believe love could feel like both sanctuary and ruin.
Even now, after all this time, it’s still you.
Newsletter & Journal Entries
Straight from the draft of, Her Last Betrayal
I ascended the stairs slower than usual. The hallways were quiet, but that didn’t seem to stop the hair raising on my arms. There was something about the east wing of the estate. It always felt colder, and not in temperature, but in presence. Like it has been drained of warmth a long time ago, and never recovered.
I paused next to a bookshelf and a coat rack. Between them was a door I hadn’t noticed before. It blended in too well. Its off white color was the same as the trim, and the faded brass doorknob, the same as all the linen closets. But this didn’t look like a closet door. It was thinner. Taller. And hidden in plain sight like it didn’t want to be found.
I glanced behind me down the hallway before reaching for the knob. It turned without resistance. The hinges groaned as I pulled the door open. Behind it was a narrow, wooden staircase that led straight up into shadows. There was no light switch that I could see. No hanging lightbulb. But there was a faint filtering of daylight that cast thin beams across the first few steps.
I hesitated, knowing I shouldn’t go up there. This wasn’t part of the job. Each step creaked beneath my weight. I had to place my hand on the wall to steady myself. I could feel the dust coating my fingers as the air grew stiller with every step. It felt heavier, like it was trying to keep me out. I paused halfway up and listened for any footsteps. When all I heard was silence, I continued climbing the staircase.
At the top, another door waited. This one was already cracked open, just enough to let in a breath of light from the attic beyond. I pushed it gently. As I stepped up to the last step, the room felt like it exhaled as cold, stale air rushed past me like its memory has been too long buried.
I stepped inside.
Her Last Betrayal | Book two in the Harpring Saga. Releasing Winter 2025.
Excerpted from the story of Zetta Castellan
I folded his letter and tucked it into the back of one of the books on the shelf. It joined the others as a growing collection of unspoken truths. Jed deserved answers, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the courage to give them to him.
I walked to the window and stared out at the sheets of rain. My mind drifted to Claudia. Although I didn’t know the full story or the past she and Jed shared, I knew there was something between them at one time. Jed assured me that what they had was all in the past. And he confirmed multiple times that he wanted nothing to do with her. So I never gave their relationship a second thought.
I didn’t know how much Jed knew, but Claudia and I had a history together as well. Ours went well back into our elementary-school years. We saw each other often when our mothers got together for dinners. But when we hit junior high we drifted apart. No hard feelings. We lived our different lives in the same small town.
I moved out as soon as I could. It wasn’t until years later that we ran into each other again, not knowing both of us had moved to the same town, hours away from our hometown. We reconnected briefly and remained acquaintances. If I knew back then what I knew now, I never would have finished dialing her phone number that day. It was like watching my life crumble in slow motion. I knew what was going to happen well before it happened.
I glanced around my cabin. The letters, photographs, and journals were all pieces of a puzzle I had never been able to piece together. I walked to another bookshelf and pulled out a book. Inside, pressed between the pages, was a photograph of me and Jed. His arm was wrapped around my waist, and we were laughing like the wind hadn’t already torn us apart. I traced the edge of the photo.
“One day,” I said as I slipped the photo back in its place. “One day the truth will come out.”
I sighed as I turned back towards my desk. The storm outside didn’t scare me the way it used to. Not anymore. The worst storms were the ones I carried inside me.
Journal Entries
Curious how my day is unfolding, where the words are carrying me, or what’s stirring in the background as I write? I thought this would be a great way to keep you a little bit more in the loop.
October 1st, 2025 | Wednesday - Launched my NEW Author’s Desk page. I’ll change this out monthly with new info each month. Also, will be adding info throughout each month. So, be sure to check back and see what’s new. My desk is kind of crazy with manuscripts, papers, notes and books, so why not make the page reflect that, right?
▪️The Harpring Files page is launching soon.
▪️Status on, Her Last Betrayal: editing phase 1