Re-Release for Bear’s Edge Coming Soon!

Tonight I took care of the last few edits for paranormal romance Bear’s Edge (Stranger Creatures 2). Re-release for Wolf’s Challenge (Stranger Creatures 1) and Bear’s Edge coming soon with Decadent Publishing! Each book can be read as a standalone.

In just a few weeks, you can step into the strange town of Great Oaks, Virginia and meet shifter bear, Grant. He’s been crushing on his boss, Shayla since the day they met. Will Grant risk his job and his barely healed heart to convince Shayla to take a chance on him? Will his darker desires be too much for her? For now, here’s a sneak peek at the cover for Bear’s Edge.

Bear's Edge-sc-Amazon-NEW


Inconvenient Conscience

Inconvenient Conscience of a Saleswoman


Sell the idea

and sell it fast

Gloss over the facts

Don’t breathe

Just shine


Same drill

different day

New prey

Old story

Money, money


she freezes

Autopilot switches off

Alternative facts become hard to weave

The problem, her biggest one ever, she thinks

follows her through the day

New faces to impress

but the clever spin

the loophole roller coaster

has shut down in her head

The spotlight is smoking

hot and unrelenting

She sweats

turning her head from the glare

buying time to search

for the slanted sparkle of the dream

she’s supposed to be selling

People stare

She struggles for the words

her conscience had thrown

in a box

Sloppy Scrabble pieces

that won’t arrange themselves

until she agrees

not to change the meaning

by Christina Lynn Lambert


To borrow a phrase from one of my favorite TV shows, “the truth is out there”, but sometimes striking a match in the dark shows more than I could have imagined. Some truths are inconvenient, some are denied so harshly the candle is blown out and the door slammed shut. Some truths lead to missing pieces, chunks of our souls, answers that fill in the blanks.

No search is complete without a few risks during the journey. I try to remember that no truth is absolute but also that no answer, no light is possible without sacrifice. No worthy answer comes without the price of losing part of the self that hung on to the darkness and the truths we thought we understood.







Cover Reveal

The re-release of paranormal romance Wolf’s Challenge (Stranger Creatures 1) is almost here! For now, I have a brand new cover.


Soon, Derrick and Sydney’s story will be available once again. Shifter wolf Derrick and shy, single mom Sydney both have their reasons to resist the attraction that threatens to overtake them. Join them on a suspense filled journey full of sarcasm, tension, and steam.

When my publisher closed in May of 2018, I was lucky enough to have Decadent Publishing take on books 1 and 2 of the Stranger Creatures series. Each book in this series will feature a different couple searching for their happily-ever-after. School started back up today in my little area of Virginia and my lovelies boarded the school bus to middle and high school, leaving me free to work on finishing book 3 in the series.

In book 3, Detective Nikki Jackson isn’t looking for love. She has a great job and some other side work that keeps her busy. When a strong, quiet, dark-eyed man arrives in Great Oaks to assist Nikki on a case, she’s determined to keep things professional. So is he. And yet….

The Price of Progress

The Price of Progress

smoke stacks choke the trees

stray cat loses her mother

to a bulldozer

Copyright © Christina Lynn Lambert


A huge construction project near my home got me thinking about the above haiku poem that I wrote several years ago. The haiku (originally entitled Sounds of the City) was inspired by my morning drive to the campus of the university I was attending at the time. My route took me by countless construction sites stocked full of equipment that, day by day, forever changed the landscape. I usually left my car windows up since I passed by several industrial businesses as well.  Smoke and bad smells permeated the air, leaving a sad fog that I was always glad to be driving through and not home to.

At the time, I viewed these unpleasant things as the price of progress- the price of housing more people, of businesses making more things for people to utilize. At the time, I had no idea the extent of the price that unchecked progress would cost the environment.

On the surface, the current construction project near my home would be seen as nothing new, nothing extraordinary in the scheme of what could go wrong in the world.

The road past the construction site is full of gravel and nails that promise to mar up my car. Stops and detours make me grind my teeth in frustration. But that’s all it will ever be for people- inconvenience and frustration. Deer, foxes, turtles, beavers wander out into the road, wondering what the hell happened to their homes. The freshly laid pavement bears the mark of tire-flattened furry bodies and squished snakes. Trees are leveled by the hundreds and fed through wood chippers. Water is life, and not just for people, yet creeks are filled in with dirt to make way for foundations and parking lots. It’s all part of a never ending process where destruction is labeled as progress. Everywhere is progress. Every square inch of land is targeted for progress.

We have to make way for more grocery stores, more gas stations, so there can be more neighborhoods and more coffee shops, and more restaurants, and then more neighborhoods. More profit. “More” is a hungry, bottomless beast that wants and takes but never gives.

“More” will eat everything in its path and create strip malls, high rises, factories, and cookie cutter homes until nothing else is left. “More” will never starve, at least not until it eats everything it created.

Then do we begin the cycle again or will be have learned about not taking what isn’t necessary? I can’t predict how that will turn out, or how many times the cycle will play out. While trying to creatively figure out a positive, upbeat ending to this post, I hit upon the reality that everything doesn’t have to end happily. Sometimes, we leave a situation or a relationship saddened, hurt, or even outraged. That’s when change happens. There’s that saying that endings aren’t really endings, just chapters that have closed in a small part of a story that keeps going. Humanity is a work in progress. The price of our lessons will hopefully not be too great.




IMG_3513“Can’t keep my eyes from the circling skies, tongue tied and twisted just an earth bound misfit, I”  Learning to Fly by Pink Floyd.

The words I craft for stories and poetry can take hours, weeks, months to assemble properly. There’s blood and tears involved in ensuring my written words convey the thoughts and imagery trapped in my mind.

It takes time, but no one has to see the hard parts of that struggle- the torn up pages, the pacing, the conversations I have with myself about what words mesh best and whether I should give it all up and take an office job that involves none of this struggle. When the computer file is complete and the editing done, the words on the page misleadingly flow as if I sat down by a rushing river and the ideas left my pen on some independent magical streak of luck. They didn’t. Every word was hell to match with the other words, but I like that kind of hell. I’m happy there. When I write, I fly.

In the real, it’s hell too, and not my favorite kind of hell. In waking life, I am what I like to call “almost, but not quite”.

I’m almost normal, or rather, I can give the impression of utter ordinary plainness or clever, bright and shining wit- whichever the occasion calls for. But only for a few minutes. A few seconds if you look really closely. I don’t do small talk with strangers and I avoid the chatty inconsequential party talk with perpetual acquaintances, partly because it’s pointless and fluffy and I just don’t care to talk about the weather. But also because my ability to chat up strangers for longer than 30 seconds is lacking.

I blame my brain for its translation issues. Spoken words that require a response from me come into my brain as gibberish, and I have to translate those words. Next, the words and their meaning must travel along a filter of what I think and also what an appropriate response (regardless of what I may think) may be. Talking with people I don’t know and don’t yet trust is an agonizing bucketful of steps involving defining and refining answers that will make my jagged edges look smooth. The process is warped out in an imaginary slow motion time frame, while I work my ass off to appear calm and thoughtful.

It’s just as hard when I write to find the words, but it hurts less. I fly instead of stumble. I can craft the written words and dialogue so the questions make sense, so the answers make sense. I can make my characters suffer heartbreak and tragedy and show the reader every bit of torment a character suffered, how the past has scarred each character and left them harder, less trusting. In real life, people aren’t supposed to be such open books. People aren’t supposed to know what’s dropped us to our knees and made us cry or punch walls.

Recently I found myself at a party full of guests I didn’t know or barely knew. A confident speaker with the softest, slightest of stutters spoke with me about how things don’t matter so much as people matter. I agreed. And so much more than a nod of my head could ever convey. As she spoke to me, she appeared calm and thoughtful, and I wondered if time had slowed for her too. I wondered if she worked to make her rough edges smoother. Maybe a lot of us, more than I ever really considered before, have to work at that, because life is not always kind. We’re not all as smooth and unaffected as we like to appear.

Sometimes, If I fight against gravity hard enough, I fly. Those moments are everything, the reason to keep trying. But when gravity keeps me still, maybe it’s time to stop fighting for a while, to use those moments to be present and listen, to be still and let my rough edges shine through.

Trail of Destruction

Gravel sprays

everyone in the path

Make way

for the Supersized SUV

barreling down the road

Birds’ skulls crack against the windshield

Turtles crunch under the tires

Exhaust fumes linger

permeating lungs and trees

Soaking into

the surface of the earth

A cough

An exhale

And the damage dissipates

from thought

There’s plenty of birds

Plenty of turtles

The waterways are clean enough

for the fortunate

in the fortunate areas

Drive faster

Change nothing

No need for change under the bubble of protection

reserved for the favored few

joyously driving steel beasts further down the road

further from the truth

and straight into a nice bubble

where the gates of entry

create a wall

to hide

a trail of destruction


Copyright © Christina Lynn Lambert  2018



When I wrote this poem (or whatever you want to call it), I was thinking about the whole ripple effect concept. That trashing the environment can provide companies with a gain in the short term. Their legal ability to ruin an area, especially an area where people are less able to fight back (because that’s just easier for a hungry corporation) in the name of building more factories, making more stuff, using less efficient and dirtier forms of energy, hurts people in the long run. Many companies couldn’t care less about the air people breathe or the health of people’s future grandchildren. They care if their shareholders are satisfied with current and projected financial growth and product/service distribution paths. A company cares about it’s survival. Only.

Yeah, a lot of people are greedy. They have what they need and they’ll tear apart our futures to keep their companies and their bank accounts prospering. So we’re all doomed, right? I try not to be a “the glass is already half empty and soon everything will be gone” kind of gal. Is Karma coming for people who treat others like trash? I don’t think it works that way.

Waiting at a stop light the other day, I saw this big SUV tearing through a red light, as if the driver’s destination was more important than anybody else’s destination. They were in a hurry and the rest of the world needed to get out of their way! Everybody’s life gets crazy every now and then. It’s hard not to get caught up trying to survive and make it through daily life, trying to find a way to come out ahead.

When I find myself becoming the proverbial SUV barreling through the world, I try to take a big step back and remember that there’s a lot of stuff that just isn’t that important. It’s the people, the experiences – traveling, learning about different cultures, learning what amazing things we are capable of when we thought we couldn’t take another step or deal with another problem; those are the things that matter. If a few things on my list don’t get done, some deadlines get pushed back,  my house stays a mess, and I make a stop at the drive through for dinner on occasion, the world won’t end.

Finding the good moments and the people who make the bad times worth living through is more important than having the biggest house, the sweetest car, billionaire status. As for the companies who don’t care if they barrel over us- they don’t expect a fight. By ourselves, we can’t directly control what havoc a greedy company wreaks upon a forest and water system, or what damage its products do to users. Standing together we have a chance. We can be more than just enraged, we can have power. Even something as simple as refusing to buy a product from a company that sells an unsafe product, spreads a hate message, or pollutes a river, might start out as a pebble in the water but can eventually turn the tide.


Come On, Smile

Stop talking to me

I don’t want to smile for you

But you want to be heard

And your size means I must tread cautiously

A fight would mean I might survive

but not unharmed

A deep breath tells my heart to slow

Nothing to worry about yet

Your words are innocuous

right now

Two minutes later though

I could be be headed into a

passive aggressive minefield

so I watch my step

and give a small, tight smile while

My mind’s busy running calculations

looking for the projected path

that avoids the angry minefield of further obligation

Even so

a hand on my shoulder might

cut through the formalities


Never overrated

serves me well

I’m polite

but not too engaging

while I step past

finding an excuse

a friendly face

a place to be

a reason

to not be



Copyright © Christina Lynn Lambert