Tag Archives: writing

NEW RELEASE – paranormal romance, Hawk’s Heart is live! #ShapeshifterRomance #PNR #RomanceNovels #EBooks

Hawk’s Heart (Stranger Creatures book 5) is now available on amazon as well as other ebook sellers. The series is finally complete! Each book features a different couple fighting for their happily-ever-after. Hawk’s Heart is Luke and Jordan’s story.

About Hawk’s Heart:

Interior designer and empathic psy, Jordan Hayes, is overworked and stressed out. With her best friend and business partner, Val, away on her honeymoon and their office manager out on medical leave, work is piling up into a nearly unmanageable mess. Even worse, her ex is blackmailing her with a cryptic threat about exposing the fact that she’s an empathic psy. Jordan has never met anyone with abilities like hers until she crosses paths with a sexy, scarred, and seemingly cold-hearted man who is intent on bursting her bubble of safety. 

Nobody’s ever accused empathic psy and hawk shifter, Luke Daniels, of being a cinnamon roll but he’s not as cold and mean as he appears. Life has made him guarded, but when he meets interior designer Jordan, he falls fast and hard for the kind, beautiful psy. But would she ever want a guy like him?

An entrepreneur attempting to create an indestructible empire of greed has his sights set on Jordan, convinced she’s an easy target. Jordan and Luke will have to put everything on the line to survive and save the lives of dozens of captives. Will the bond growing between the two of them get severed or will they win the fight against everyone and everything standing in their way? 

Excerpt:

Jordan pulled up to a spot on the street near the front of 3054 Saint James Street. The house looked pretty new. Hopefully the client would be requesting a simple decorating job. When taking the call, Jordan had been distracted by the electrical fire that had erupted at a light socket when she’d flipped a switch. Good thing she kept a fire extinguisher on hand and knew a good electrician who owed her a favor. Involving her landlord would no doubt result in another rent increase or some other headache. Mr. Pulfrey wasn’t the most helpful, or ethical, landlord, not even close, but the office complex where she and her best friend and business partner, Valerie Taylor, rented space for Jordan and Taylor’s Design and Renovation was in a great location.

She grabbed her purse and messenger bag and speed walked to the door. Being a few minutes late to meet a potential client for the first time was not a great look, but her late arrival was the least of her problems. The recent rent increase on her office building had been unexpectedly steep. Then, there were the texts her ex had been sending, demanding money in exchange for keeping her secret, and of course, the uninvited skunk that had stunk up all of the inventory in her warehouse.

With a sigh, she rang the doorbell and did her best to put her worries aside. The man who opened the door was so fine, it took her breath away. A lock of pale blond hair hung over his right eye, nearly obscuring it, which drew her attention to a thick scar that began underneath that same eye and ended at the bottom of his jaw. And his mouth, oh, damn. She would bet her entire shoe collection, which had become fairly extensive, thanks to the vintage shop she’d recently discovered on the corner of Briar Street and Bella Rosa Road, that he could give a scorching-hot kiss with those luscious lips.

Knock it off! You are on a break from men, for good reasons, and this guy looks dangerous. Mm, so dangerous. She gave herself a mental slap but found it hard to find her voice because the strikingly gorgeous blond man standing in the doorway was looking at her so intently. His irises were a mix of icy blue and indigo shades, reminding her of barren trees against a snowy sky. Do I have lipstick on my teeth? She ran her tongue over her teeth. They didn’t feel slick or goopy. Had she buttoned her shirt up wrong? She’d been in a hellfire hurry to get out the door that morning. She gave her outfit a subtle glance. Nope. Both her shirt and skirt were fine. She ran a hand through her wavy, chin-length hair and felt no obvious snarls.

Snarls were rarely a problem for her anymore since she’d chopped the long length off one day in a fit of annoyance. Ward had made a passive-aggressive comment about her shorter haircut and her new red boots, which had been strike two against him. She kicked memories of Ward out of her mind because he didn’t deserve to be taking up space in her head, but then she was back to wondering about the man staring at her as if he had just discovered an alien species standing on his front porch.

“Um, Max Gardener?” Ugh. She hated that she sounded so timid and unsure of herself.

“No. I’m Luke. Luke Daniels. One of Max’s business partners. Are you the interior designer?”

“Yes. I’m Jordan Hayes.”

He nodded. “You can wait for Max in the office inside. He’ll show you the other houses shortly.” He remained in the doorway, expression guarded, watching her.

A flush creeped up her neck and into her cheeks at the scrutiny, but she stared right back at him. Light-blond hair dusted his arms and the black-ink lines of a tattoo peeked out from under his left T-shirt sleeve. Yum, tattoos. She wondered how many tattoos he had and where they were on his body. What would his skin feel like under her hands? Wait, what had he meant when he said Mr. Gardener would show her the other houses? She must have missed a lot more information than she’d thought during the original phone call. Or maybe she’d forgotten to leave herself more detailed notes.

With Val out of town on her honeymoon and their office manager, Sheila, out on medical leave after a bicycling accident, Jordan was overwhelmed.

“Come on in.” He held the door open for her.

Jordan hesitated. She didn’t usually meet clients by herself, especially not outside the office, but she’d had no choice since Val was in Belize and Sheila was recovering from surgery. The man’s truth didn’t come right to her, effortlessly, the way most people’s emotions hit her. She took a quick peek around the outside of his mind to get a better sense of him and felt the interference of a strong shield. Interesting.

Though she wanted to search a little more, to take a peek and see what was beneath his stony exterior, she tried not to invade anyone’s mind space unless it was a matter of safety. He didn’t seem to be a creep who was preparing to attack her, but a woman alone couldn’t be too careful. After a slightly harder push, she made it just past the outer edge of his mind space. She felt an array of his emotions, which were blunted by his shield, but none of what she felt from him seemed harmful, at least not toward her, but there was something else. Something…more to him, as if a bit of wildness waited inside him.

Purchase links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/b0h6nxq9vg

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hawks-heart/id6792861130

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hawks-heart-christina-lynn-lambert/1150840042

Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/christina_lynn_lambert_hawk_s_heart?id=wH72EQAAQBAJ    

Kobo Books: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hawk-s-heart-4

If you’d like to follow me on social media for my latest book updates, poems, contest info, book recommendations, and other fun stuff, you can find me at:

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

WordPress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/cllambauthor.bsky.social

The Song Changes – #poem #poetry #change

The marketing director for the department of Everything is Fine

cuts out the disconnected, the supposed blight

Anything and anyone that deviates from the flavorless version of their ideal

must be eliminated from the glossy brochures that assure

shareholders along with obedient pitchfork and torch raisers

that the conditions under the rule

of the United Corporations are great and getting greater

Newscasters for the grifting enterprise

smile and take the bribes

They tell us to be quiet about the violence

but silence is a slow death

and being cooked alive on the low setting is no longer enough of a reason

to keep on being

an ant

marching to the tune of a song called “comply or die”

Time for the pieces to connect into a picture that can’t be denied

The song changes

The wind carries our words

and shifts the tides

A broken toilet, disconnected from the plumbing system and separated from any place it could be useful, is forced to occupy a space where people passing by become angry that the scenery is marred, yet nobody moves it- because we can’t be late to work, because we don’t have the right equipment to lift and move something so heavy, because alone, we don’t have the resources to fix the problem.

The current system was designed to be an obstacle to any type of progress that doesn’t benefit the wealthy donors who have purchased politicians’ favor. This system is only workable when we are merely individuals, trying to exist and endure, but when we step together and organize, we become something the system of oppression can’t survive

Song Beyond the Trees #poem #poetry #chooseyourownending #naturepoems

Song Behind the Trees

Beyond the tree line

music beckons

Keep reading for the two possible endings to this poem

Ending 1 –

Past the threshold

no trail awaits

The stars can’t breach the canopy of leaves

A chorus of vines wrap around me

I’m a present for everything that stings

Venom lessons leach into blood, muscle, and bone,

Wolves wait and rabbits

scream

Over the crickets’ wicked laugh

I hear the stream

whispering

that the forest doesn’t go on forever

The music is gone

so I write my own

Ending 2-

When I cross the threshold

leaves swallow me, doing their best to hide me

from things that steal and sting

Whisper of the stream

guides me

off the path

through briars that cut into my leaves

piercing muscle, clawing at hope

but the sound still calls

I hide from spiders and walk with snakes

through the rain

over places where the earth

split

Stars and fireflies stay true

And the night’s butterfly takes me through the last miles

to the heart

the symphony

the beginning

of everything

Image description – a photo of somewhat barren trees at the edge of a forest. The sky is overcast, and a layer of fog gives the trees a hazy appearance.

Why two endings for the poem?

After I wrote the beginning of the poem, I started thinking of two possible endings- one more sinister and one with a more joyous outcome. I remembered reading those Choose Your Own Adventure books when I was a kid and thought, why not have two endings to this poem?

A song, a promise, a path- hidden except for the first few steps- could be a trap, waiting to ensnare any who dare to enter. Will the price to move past the trees be cuts so deep that souls and bones need to be pulled back together with a needle and thread? Or is the hint of the hauntingly beautiful song a prelude to something wonderful?

The threads binding our souls and bones remember the agony of past lessons, yet the stitches come alive with curiosity. In stillness we dissolve. Beyond the tree line, we find reasons.

The Electric Doors Never Stop Eating #poems #poetry #essay

The Electric Doors Never Stop Eating

Earlier than necessary

electric doors open wide

ushering in employees who either

drank the corporate-issued devotion-to-policy brew

or chose a regular cup of coffee and steeled themselves to slog through

another day of being under the eye and thumb of

cameras and software packages designed to report

each word

each keystroke

to measure productivity, to predict loyalty

to the almighty company

Corporate mission statements decorate walls and computer screens

Remember:

Positive attitudes only

Daily emails politely warn

that questions come with a penalty

When bodies drop under the weight of unattainable goals

and crack like stones

No blood left to squeeze

The boss with the broom sweeps the old dust out

so the doors can welcome in

younger faces ready to bleed for a company

that will demand the impossible

then sweep away the broken pieces

with a broom

Image description – photograph of high-rise businesses overlooking a rocky section of the James River

About the poem:

As rights for workers and conditions for workplace safety continue to erode, the reality hits hard that lawmakers are not coming to help workers. Nobody in politics is coming to provide actually legislative help because their pockets are being lined for staying silent. Since nobody in power is coming to help, it’s up to us to set a precedent, to draw lines, to set limits, and to be loud and obnoxious when we can if subtle strategies and quiet subterfuge fails. Otherwise, the spineless, manipulative, ass-kissers who have sold their souls for the privilege of serving their corporate overlords will continue to perpetrate wage theft, require unattainable goals, tout unrealistic expectations, discriminate both overtly and covertly, and cause unsafe and/or inhumane working conditions.

NEW POETRY ANTHOLOGY RELEASE – Unstable #poems #poetry #anthology #books

I’m thrilled to have three poems (Salt, Garden’s Revenge, and Transformation) in Querencia Press’ anthology, Unstable!

This anthology was inspired by a bunch of asshats on social media being jerks. In response to that behavior, the creative team at Querencia Press asked contributors to send in our most unhinged work, and out of that, they put together Unstable. Read with care.

Purchase links for Unstable:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/UNSTABLE-Emily-Perkovich-ebook/dp/B0DPLLGFS3

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unstable-emily-perkovich/1146640020?ean=9798341839038

If you’d like to read more of my poems, find about my latest book release information, read excerpts, get book recommendations, and other fun stuff, you can find me at:

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

WordPress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/cllambauthor.bsky.social

The Forests After Fire #shortstory #romance #lovestory #flashfiction #romantasy

There’s always a little bit of magic, even in the most ordinary things. In my flash fiction story, The Forests After Fire, a song, along with some help from the universe, brings two strangers together.

#shortstory #romantasy #romance #seasons #lovestory #flashfiction #healingafterheartbreak

The Forests After Fire

The weather was still warm enough for one last weekend at the ocean when Caletta’s world fell apart. Well, not her whole world, just enough of it to ruin her weekend getaway and take half the stuff in her house. He left a huge mess in his wake and Caletta was too tired to clean. She had to duck underneath all the questions that hung in the doorway. Numb habits— a gift from a universe that understood that healing isn’t instantaneous, like striking a match or pouring water over a fire.

Trees and people take time, and by the time the autopilot light burnt out and woke Caletta from her sleep-walking life-dance, the leaves had changed colors. The trash can full of microwave dinner containers was full and she found herself craving something cooked on the stove. She soaked chicken thighs in butter and seasoned them with parmesan, crushed red peppers, and oregano. Spicy and savory. How long had it been since she’d been able to cook with red pepper flakes? He had hated spicy foods. Dinner tasted so good she cried at the tragedy of eating it alone. Then she cried harder at how the pitiful sound echoed through her half empty house.

The memories and the emptiness burned. Her tears burned too, long into the night. By morning, her tears tasted like the ocean and she wrapped herself inside her blankets to shake off the cold. Things were fine while she took a shower and got dressed. Her playlist begged her to sing, not quietly like she used to, but at top volume, until the lyrics were an anthem. She was happy for a few minutes, but then, the walls made her mad.

Every room in the house was some shade of beige. He’d convinced her that the bland tone would go with everything. Then, he’d made sure everything went with the beige, no contrasts, no vivid splashes of brightness— including her. Somewhere along the way, she’d learned to keep everything on mute, including her thoughts and ideas, because only soft, gentle things got space and love, at least with him. No more. Time to paint the walls.

Caletta dug around the boxes in the back of her closet and found her purple jacket, frayed jeans, and multicolor Doc Martens. Dressed like the Caletta that had been forced into hibernation for stupid reasons, she went to Best Mart. On the way to the paint aisle, she spotted the clearance section for Halloween stuff. Damn, I missed my favorite holiday! She’d missed that time of year when the veil was weak and two different worlds walked together, for those who wished to see. After Halloween, the magic was softer, quieter. But the veil that she felt open every Halloween wasn’t the only veil, nor the only kind of magic that wound through what seemed like ordinary days.

She found a bracelet of tiny silver skulls that jingled and a necklace of red leaves and alternating white beads that gleamed like little snowflakes. The necklace didn’t seem to be in the right place. She checked the price tag. Definitely not on sale. She put the necklace in her basket along with the bracelet, anyway. As she walked down to the paint aisle, she heard a song she couldn’t place but found she couldn’t turn in the direction of the sound. She didn’t feel… ready to hear the whole song. She shook off the strange feeling and picked out paint colors that would make her house feel alive again.

Matteo heard a soulful song playing through static. He wished Best Mart would fix their speakers because the music was… he didn’t know what it was. He needed to hear more of the saxophone notes and the singer’s powerful voice, but the sound faded out completely. He went on about the chore of stocking up on groceries and finding everything on his list for repairing the damage she’d done to the house when she’d left. Ordinary chores and an ordinary day mixed with memories and pain, and questions he’d never have answers to, but that song stayed on his mind. Songs were for hope while the forests healed.

On a night so hot, his ancient air conditioner gasped and tapped out, Matteo dreamed of red leaves blowing in the wind, of snow falling, and soft bells jingling. He heard the song again and found himself on a path of oak trees, lit by fairy lights. Something purple caught his eye, just a flash, then gone before his dream-self could get a better glimpse. When he woke to a broken air conditioner, he opened his bedroom windows and memories slipped out. Fireflies ate the worst parts and lit them up inside their bellies, one last, bright, awful time, then flew off into the night.

That November, the red leaf wind blew quickly into the first snow. The Autumn Festival of Lights in Great Oaks, Virginia began at sunset and Matteo, though he was running late, still managed to snag a good parking spot. He texted his friends that he would meet them soon at the arena for the outdoor concert. Strings of colorful fairy lights lit up the trees at the entrance to the festival. The sound of something softly jingling caught his attention.

A woman in a purple coat crossed his path. Her brown hair and lovely green eyes stole his breath and his words. He could have sworn that he’d seen her before. Somewhere. But he couldn’t find the words to ask. In the distance, he heard the band introduce themselves and their first song began.

“That song!” she said. “I’ve been dreaming of that song for over a year but I couldn’t remember more than a few notes.”

Matteo nodded. “I’ve been hearing it, too.”

They found a seat together and listened to the band play. The snow fell on the concert and the universe wove her magic through the forest and trees, and into the two people who were ready to see.

I typically write paranormal romance novels with a ton of steam and suspense. Over the past couple of years, I have been writing poetry as well as dystopian, horror, and fantasy short stories. I am just beginning to get the hang of writing flash fiction. It’s been a challenge to condense an entire story into less than 1,500 words, but I feel like I’m starting to fall in love with writing flash fiction.

 If you’d like to follow me on social media for my latest book information and excerpts, poems, contest info, book recommendations, and other fun stuff, you can follow me here on my blog. You can also find me at:

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert