The Passion for Writing Series: Author Linda R. Herman

A native of South Georgia, Linda R. Herman, has been in love with the written word since she learned to read. She's been writing entertaining stories since elementary school and currently writes in many genres, most specifically Contemporary.

The writer is a wife and mother who works full-time as an emergency 911 dispatcher.

Learn more about Linda at/on:

[her website] [Facebook] [Twitter]

The Passion for Writing - From Linda's Pen

Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing stems from my love for reading.

If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
Red. I love the color red. "My heart bleeds and with that passion, I pen stories that parallel reality." Blood is red, right? LOL

How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
My imagination runs WILD! There are many variations of a good plot, but it's the characters who tell the story. Characters are who readers fall in love with and remember long after the last punctuation mark. So, I'm always thinking of new characters...people I'd like to meet...and some I'd rather not, LOL.



[purchase today]

Undeniably Torn was co-written with Tinisha Nicole Johnson, and it tells a modern day tale of a love triangle spun out of control.

Nigel Alexander has everything a woman desires in a man. He's educated, wealthy, smart, and all so sexy. The only thing is, Nigel knows he's all that and he's not ready to settle down, no matter how persistent Isis, his long time bed bunny, is.

Isis Cross is convinced that one day Nigel will stop his "catting around" and choose her as his bride. After all, she is equally educated, wealthy, smart, and attractive. She could have any man of her choosing but her heart chose Nigel years ago and Isis is not about to give him up.

So where does Rayna Payne fit into this perfect union Isis has created in her mind? In Isis' opinion, she doesn't but Nigel is quite smitten with this Southern Belle. In fact, he thinks Rayna just might be the one for him.

What Nigel doesn't know about Rayna, Isis is prepared to bring to the light. But how far will Rayna go to keep her past in the dark?

When all is said and done, who will be the last woman standing at Nigel's side?

Excerpt from Undeniably Torn

Nigel leaned over to Rayna, after his Dad stepped away. “Babe, I’ll be back before you know it, so don’t you go anywhere.” He pecked her on the cheek.

Although caught off guard, Rayna was appreciative that Nigel was so attentive. She turned around, in search of a restroom, when a familiar face approached her.

“So we meet again,” a feminine voice sang.

Rayna looked up to find herself standing face to face with Isis. It was just the two of them.

“Yes, how are you, Isis?” Rayna smiled sweetly while sizing up her competition. Isis was a very beautiful woman. Buttermilk skin that gave way to her mixed heritage covered her tall, slender body.

Her hazel green eyes held an air of mystery and sensuality. Even her pearly whites were perfectly straight. Model material definitely.

“I’m fine.” Isis stepped forward, closing in the small gap between her and Rayna. She lowered her voice. “But, I think we both know this little, uh, girl talk isn’t going to be about exchanging pleasantries.”



Rayna smirked facetiously. She then looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was in hearing range before she replied. Staring directly into Isis’ eyes, Rayna whispered, “So, let’s skip the bullshit and get to it.”

Isis was a little surprised by Rayna’s choice of words. She had her pegged as the good ol’ country bumpkin. Apparently, she was wrong. There was a lot more to Rayna than a sweet smile and polite conversation.

“What’s your relationship with Nigel?” Isis demanded to know.

Still smiling and not breaking eye contact, Rayna answered. “If you didn’t have an idea, you wouldn’t be asking. Would you?”

Isis’ blood boiled. How dare she be so cocky! Isis had a good mind to slap the smirk off Rayna’s face, but something in the other woman’s eyes stopped her. It’s as if Rayna was not only staring at her, but through her.

Isis cleared her throat. “I don’t know what Nigel has told you about us, but let me assure you, friends don’t do what he and I do.” Isis smiled coyly, waiting for a response from Rayna, but she offered nothing, not even a change in her facial expression.

“So, you enjoy your little fling.” Isis stressed the latter. “I’ve watched many come and go out of Nigel’s life, but I’m still here.”

“You know, Isis, that’s kind of sad. In fact, it’s downright pathetic. If Nigel was feeling you half as much as you’re feeling him, you wouldn’t have to watch so many others come and go. It would be all about you, but it’s not.” Rayna watched Isis’ beautiful face twist in anger and crumble. “Be careful when you walk away. I’d hate for you to step on your face.” Rayna started to walk off, then stopped and turned back toward Isis. “Oh, and thanks for the uh, girl talk.”

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Deidra D. S. Green

Deidra D. S. Green is highly sought after as a lecturer, educator, and presenter. Her command of the podium, extensive knowledge base, and ability to effectively communicate, has both informed and captivated audiences. They leave challenged, inspired, and wanting more.

Deidra was born in E. St. Louis, IL to the proud parents of Robert W. and M. Catherine Smoot. She is the eldest of the three children; her younger sister Robyn Kaye has been resting with God since 1999. Her baby brother Patrick Schayne, is an educator, author, and a dynamic speaker. Deidra, her two children VcToryann and Kamerron, and her brother reside in Atlanta GA.

Deidra has continued her literary prowess as a freelance writer, literary coach, ghostwriter and professional editor, as well as authoring several books for all age groups. In 2009, she founded The Mahogany Writers Exchange, a writing group for adults interested in honing their writing craft. Other works by Deidra include:

• From the Outside In (non-fiction, true crime)
• My Forever Airplane (children’s non-fiction)
• Smallest Superhero (Children’s fiction series)
• Smallest Superhero and the CBU (Children’s fiction series)
• Epiphanies While Driving (inspiration/motivation)
• Closet Issues: A Poet’s Journey into the Dark Places (prose/short stories)
• Wordsmithin’ (poetry)
• Twisted Sister (Adult fiction, first installment of Anthology of a Trick)

Learn more about Deidra at/on:

[her website] [Facebook] [Twitter]

The Passion for Writing - From Deidra's Pen

Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing emanates from my love of words. I am in awe and understand the power of the written word. And as many writers before me have said, I have always written; not for the viewing public, but for myself. Writing has been my peace in the storm; my respite from anything and everything that has gone on in my life. Regardless of my emotions, whether happy, sad, excited, ambivalent, writing is how I have always expressed myself. Writing for me is like breathing. Without it, I would cease to exist. The passion for writing derives from that internal place, that place of knowing...

If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
If my writing were a color, it would be black. Some people see black as a flat, one dimensional color. But black is a penetrating color and mixed with anything changes the context of what it is mixed with. Black has depth and dimensionality, and dependent on whether there is a shine put on it, can be reflective...

How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
I keep the passion burning for my relationship with storytelling because I genuinely enjoy it. I don't write for pride or vain glory. I don't write for money or fame. I write because I was gifted by the Most High with the gift of expression through the written word, through storytelling. When a person writes from an honest, unadulterated and pure place, the rest follows.







[purchase today]

A five-year-old little girl is brutally murdered by her mother’s boyfriend. His true identity is questioned and questionable from the very beginning. Her mother, a social worker, is found culpable but is not the primary killer. The people responsible for her protection have ultimately failed the little girl… and not just once. The story makes national headlines and is covered on every major news station in the local area. The media doesn't have the whole story, but someone else does. She is looking From the Outside In.

[coming soon!]

Twisted Sister is a mind-bending tale of love, cruelty, friendship, and revenge. The story opens with Holly and Blythe – two African American twenty-somethings that are on the way to the top of a prestigious financial management firm. While Blythe is “lucky in love,” Holly is a self-imposed single that is focused on solidifying her career, not on finding Mr. Right. To make matters worse, a failed engagement that still haunts Holly cripples her every time she tries to make a new relationship work.

That all seems destined to change, though, when Blythe discloses that a new associate named Trent has developed feelings for Holly. Not only is Trent seemingly successful, kind-hearted, and financially secure, but he is also every woman’s dream – athletically built with chiseled and handsome features.

After a sexually charged first date, followed by a whirlwind undercover few weeks of dating, Holly’s romance comes to a screeching halt. Even though she knew that inter-office dating was frowned upon, Holly had been sure that her office romance had gone unnoticed…until one of the partners called her out and gave her an ultimatum: a successful career or Trent.

When Holly makes the decision to break off her relationship with Trent, she could never have dreamed about the nightmare that awaited her as a result of leaving him. Kidnapped, drugged, and raped at knife point, Holly has every chance to wilt completely at the hands of her captor. However, after a sudden twist of grace leaves her alive and standing outside of her apartment high rise, the strong will to fight that lives within her soul sparks to life, enabling her to vow that she will not let her tormentor get away with what he has done.

 Excerpt from From the Outside In

Chapter 1

It’s very quiet where I am now. I can no longer hear the thud of wet dirt, and the lingering trickle of the last pebbly remainders left on the grave diggers’ spade. At first, the noise was loud, and if I could feel, I would have been very scared. But as the hole started to fill up, even the full spade of dirt seemed far off. I wasn’t afraid of the sound… I couldn’t be. If I could breathe, I would have been holding my breath. But I can’t breathe anymore. It’s actually been a while since I breathed on my own. My ability to see ended a long time ago too. I couldn’t see like everybody else sees; you know, through my own eyes. But I could see in a way. I could see from the outside in. I could see me; lying in a wooden box; made fancy with gold trinkets, and little cupid like angels decorating my new home. I could see the burgundy velvet dress, matching Raggedy Ann hat, and big bow that slightly hid my head that was so crooked. My head hurt then, and I remember the pain. It hurt sooo bad…. I could see all the flowers around me, and with my mind, I could smell them. I had to use my mind to remember what flowers smelled like. My nose no longer worked…it was broken; broken to the point that it no longer had a bridge, broken.

I couldn’t see the shoes I was wearing because the box I was in was only open enough to see the top part of my body. The bottom half of me was covered by the box, and the flowers on top of the box. That was probably best. I had to say goodbye to that half of my body oh so long ago. And even though I can no longer physically feel, I can remember. My memory hurts… I don’t want to talk about that anymore right now.

Before the darkness came, I could see the little chapel. There was no music. I saw the man in the front saying something, but they were words I didn’t understand. It sounded as if he was talking about me, but not really talking about me. I saw the people in the seats; some of them I knew, some I didn’t. I saw my grandma. She had a big smile on her face. She seemed to be in her own world; rocking a little from side to side as if she had her own happy song in her head. I saw my Auntie, who I hadn’t seen for a very long time.  She left home before I was born. I’ve seen her mostly in pictures. But I remember her, and she never forgot me. She remembered every birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and every other holiday. She always seemed to remember me… and she remembers me now.

I saw my Grandpa. He was wearing his favorite suit with the preacher’s collar and big shiny cross on his neck. He was quiet, looking straight ahead; not left or right but straight ahead. The top of his body was really stiff, but at the bottom, his right leg seemed to have a mind all it’s on. It was bouncing up and down really fast, like he was nervous or something. Maybe it was hard for him to see me like this. Maybe…

I saw another man I’d only seen one time before. He looked really sad but I’m not exactly sure why. He was holding a picture of a baby girl who looked a lot like me… like I use to look…but I’m not sure.

And I saw my mother; sitting on the third row. I wondered why she sat so far away from me… why she wasn’t looking at me… why she wasn’t crying for me… Did she miss me?

I’m tired now. I want to rest now.  Someone else will have to tell the rest of the story for me; it’s only so much that I know; only so much that I remember…

Besides… I was only five years old when I was murdered.

Excerpt from Twisted Sister

The evening was drawing to a close and Holly and Blythe waited outside Ms. Catherine’s for a taxi. Blythe lived on the east side of town with her boyfriend and Holly lived closer to midtown. They would need to take separate cabs but as always, agreed to text or call each other as soon as they made it to their respective residents.

The ladies hugged as Blythe jumped in her taxi and headed home. It wouldn’t be long before Holly’s taxi arrived. Holly waited in front of Ms. Catherine’s. She could still hear the music pouring from inside the restaurant. There were plenty of couples out; some arriving at Ms. Catherine’s and some leaving… cozied up next to each other, hugging or holding hands, moving in rhythm to their next destinations. Although it was a week night, there was plenty of activity downtown.

Suddenly, Holly had the feeling she was being watched. It wasn’t like the quick glance someone would take as they passed you by but more like an unbreakable stare.  She looked around but didn’t notice anyone noticing her. Although there were a number of people on the street and Holly was not alone or isolated, she hoped the cab would hurry and arrive.

Instinctively, Holly was on high alert. She repositioned herself closer to the door of Ms. Catherine's and physically leaned against the building… that way; no one could walk behind her and catch her off guard. She continued to scan the street and people in front of and around her. Holly didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone somewhere was watching her.

Holly was becoming increasingly unnerved as she stood in front of Ms. Catherine’s. The night air was brisk, giving Holly a chill. The people around her continued to go on with their lives, the music continued to pour out of the restaurant, and Holly continued on high alert. Finally, the taxi cab pulled up. It couldn’t have arrived soon enough. Holly was relieved to climb into the back seat, lock the door and make her way home.

She didn’t engage in conversation with the cab driver, she was much too on edge for idle chatter. She just wanted to get home.

The cab moved swiftly through the dimly lit streets. Holly was glad for the free flowing traffic; so different than it was during the hustle and bustle most typical of the work day.

Even though the taxi ride was smooth and uneventful, Holly was still having a hard time relaxing. Her body was tense and her mind was filled with speculation. Holly still felt a little chilly; the goose bumps on her arm still raised from the briskness of the night air. Then she realized why. She had inadvertently left her suit jacket hanging on the back of her chair. Any other time Holly would have instructed the driver to turn around so she could retrieve her jacket. But Holly had been so uncomfortable and still a little on edge, she made the decision to just call Ms. Catherine’s when she got home and have them hold it until she could get back there in the next day or so to pick it up.

The cab arrived in front of her building. Without an exchange of words, Holly paid the driver, and made her way out of the vehicle. Holly’s focus was getting her keys out of her clutch, and getting into her apartment as fast as she could. As she scurried toward the door to her building, her phone began to buzz. Taking the phone from her purse, she instantly recognized the number. It was Blythe. Holly was fumbling with the keys and trying to answer the phone when she saw him… it was Trent… standing in the darkened shadows cast by Holly’s high rise luxury apartment building. Holly was shocked.

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Eva G. Headley

Nominated Indie Author of the Year Eva G. Headley resides in the UK. She is a passionate author and poet who loves writing inspirational novels and short stories that have unexpected endings and juicy storylines. You can learn more about Eva by checking out the following sites:

• Website
• The Write to Inspire
• Twitter
• Facebook

The Passion for Writing - From Eva's Pen

Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion comes from the ability to create characters that breathe and become actual people in my mind and the minds of my readers. I love the fact that my characters are created from my fears, fantasies, and failures. It’s a real place that I love to write from, and it's fueled by real emotion. I am able to close my mind to my own reality and dig deep into myself to live through the characters I create using my vivid imagination to create a place, a situation, and a scenario that readers can relate to.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
I would say RED. It's passionate, dangerous, and daring, but it's also the colour of redemption, help, and love.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
I keep the passion burning by asking myself what would my character do in a certain situation. It's not what I would normally do, so it's exciting to explore situations I would not encounter personally.

[purchase today]

A story about connections, disconnections, and the loves and tragedies that dwell between

Ria Jackson thought she was making the right choice when she relocates to New York to fulfill her dream. She leaves behind the love of her life Shawn Matthews in Los Angeles. What she soon finds out is her choice to leave brings about devastating effects. Left alone, Shawn Matthews reunites with Andrea Lasalle 'a rebound'. They become lovers quickly, but Shawn cannot get Ria out of his mind-she has a hold on him. Shawn's loyalty to his brother Kenny is put to the test when Shawn finds out he is a drug addict. After a heated scuffle, Shawn kicks Kenny out of his home, hoping Kenny work on getting a life. This leaves Kenny on the streets looking for revenge. Andrea thinks she has the man of her dreams but fails to realize to have him she will lose her own soul and become a possessive lover. When Ria returns to Los Angeles, a love triangle forms between Ria, Shawn and Andrea. Weeks before a wedding, tragedy hits, leading everyone to believe it was a murder not an accident.

[purchase Welcome to Fake City HERE.]

Eva also writes flash fiction. Her Hollywood Heels series kicked off with Welcome to Fake City!

About the Hollywood Heels series:

Will Lalah Valentine ever become the actress she is dreaming of being and kiss her Hollywood crush George Clooney? This is a witty and funny insight to the lives of those in the Hollywood entertainment industry. HH is a flash fiction series published under Write to Inspire Publishing's Sweet Bites imprint. Two episodes in the series will be released monthly.

 Excerpt from Tied to the Soul

Shawn reviewed the room and the open suitcases, then he handed the bouquet of flowers to her. As Ria hugged him, he embraced her firmly in his arms and kissed the side of her neck. The distance he had been trying to portray was coming back to bite him. His body was yearning for her. Just the thought of her being absent from him was already breaking his heart. He took the flowers back from her hand and threw them by Ria’s suitcases. He wanted more than to kiss her neck.

Shawn did not want to let Ria out of his life; his mother was gone and Ria was all he had to be his back bone when things got tough. If he could show her how much he loved her, maybe she would change her mind. As they embraced in a passionate kiss, his hands moved down to unbutton her jeans. Shawn managed to unbutton the first button when Ria pulled away. He looked at her as she released herself from his embrace, denting his ego. Shawn tried to search Ria’s eyes for a reason, but she refused to look at him.

“I-I still got loads to do and these beautiful flowers need to go in some water,” Ria said as she nervously left the arms of Shawn and went to pick up the flowers. Shawn wanted to say more, but Ria’s reaction was making it hard for him to be open. Ria was the only person he could be weak with, and he found strength in that. In Ria he saw his wife to be and the future mother of their children. He did not want to be selfish and force her into abandoning her dreams for his.

“Okay well at least come with me. We’re gonna do something a little different for lunch today.” Shawn said.

“Oh, but I’m so tired, Shawn.”

“It won’t take long, I promise you. Come on, you won’t have to do a thing. Anyway, I have everything prepared for today so...”

“You...have something prepared? This should be interesting.”

Ria was surprised. Over the past few weeks, she had wondered whether he was ever going to acknowledge her at all on her last days with him. Ria slipped on her flip-flops with expectation as they both headed out to the car. She began to grow with excitement and the tiredness withered away. She looped her hands with Shawn’s and kissed him on the cheek. Shawn opened the car door and waited for Ria to slip onto her seat. As Ria looked into Shawn’s eyes, she could tell that his mind was occupied.

As they both settled into opposite sides of the car, Ria smelt the aroma of chicken. She turned her head toward the back of the car to locate where the smell was coming from. As Shawn drove, she looked at his face, trying to read into his facial expression and thoughts. Shawn continued to remain focused on the road.

“Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” Ria asked.

“No, go ahead.”

In the past few weeks, the radio had become Ria’s best friend, especially the smooth jazz station. As she turned on the radio, she twisted the dial straight to the station.

“You seem to be listening to this station a lot lately.”

“Yeah, it’s nice and relaxing. You don’t like it?”

“Urr, it’s all right I suppose. It’s a bit like elevator music.”

“Elevator music?” Ria exaggerated a laugh in an attempt to change the awkwardness between them. “You aren’t listening right. This is smooth jazz. Good quality music.” Ria said.

“Sounds just like elevator music to me, put you straight to sleep. That’s why you’re so tired all the time. I’ve noticed any time you put that music on, within ten minutes you’re sleeping, with your mouth open and everything. Knocks you right out.” They both laughed.

“It relaxes me from stress. Am I drooling? A good sleep makes you drool, you know honey.” Ria said.

“Baby, I saw you drooling so bad one time, I had to put a bucket under your head. I thought you were gonna drown the whole apartment.”

Ria laughed so much that tears began to stream from her eyes. The moment reminded her of when they were in college and used to tease each other.

“Really, at least I don’t be snoring down the whole block. One time you were snoring so loud, I woke up and thought we were having an earthquake. The bed was shaking, the whole house was moving. I almost ran downstairs and hid under the table. But I’m not mad at you it’s just the after-effect of my lovemaking, honey. I just thought I’d chip that in so you don’t get it twisted.” Ria said as she also laughed.

“You kinda getting good at this now, aren’t you?” Shawn said at Ria’s quick comeback.

“I’ve learned from the best.”

As they reached the beach and parked, Shawn went to the trunk and took out a picnic basket and a table cloth.

“Oh, so that’s where that smell was coming from? What else you got in there?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

They found a spot to settle, and Ria helped with the small picnic Shawn had laid out for her. He handed her the beach mat for them to sit on and placed the basket in the middle.

“This is nice, Shawn.” She looked at him, waiting for a response, but he just smiled vaguely. Ria sighed and focused her attention on her surroundings. All the mixed signals Shawn was sending confused her. She looked at the waves of the ocean and wondered why God had them so free and full of beauty.

Ria also observed the bird’s that flew in the sky; it had seemed that they were dancing with the clouds as though it was a game.

Soft music flowing from the little portable radio Shawn had brought with him freed her thoughts from the sky. She reached over to where it was. Shawn looked at her as she took it, smiled, and shook his head, already knowing what station she would tune into.

“As long as you don’t sleep on me, you’re allowed,” he said.

While they sat on the beach mat, they both reached for the food. Ria observed the menu by picking each container up.

“What type of picnic is this? Where are the sandwiches?” Ria asked with amusement. Shawn grinned. “I got what you like but no sandwiches.” They both dug into the fried chicken and rice, which was neatly organized in polythene containers.

The transparency of the ocean turned dark blue as the sun descended onto the horizon, turning the sky shades of yellow and orange. This blended into the soft jazz music playing from the portable radio. The Isley Brothers’ “Living for the Lover in You” came on.

“Hmm, this is my song. Let’s dance.” Ria reached a hand out to Shawn while licking the mayonnaise off her thumb from the potato salad. Shawn hesitantly accepted her invitation and held her hand as he got up. She drew him close to her, and Shawn, slightly embarrassed, looked around the beach to see if anyone was watching them.

“This is really something different, Shawn—a picnic and a dance on the beach.”

They moved slowly, grooving to the jam that was sweetening the mood. Ria knew Shawn was not the type to dance in public. After she pulled away from his advances earlier on, she could feel that distance returning. As the song came to an end, Shawn loosened his grip on her waist.

“Ria, we need to talk.”

“Shawn, do we have to? I really don’t want to spoil a good evening. I haven’t got the strength to argue with you tonight.” Ria said softly.

“No, we are not gonna argue. I promise.”

“All right. What is it?” Ria folded her arms defensively.

“We have been together for seven years now. I’ve loved each and every moment of it, the good times and the bad times...”

Ria’s excitement grew.

Is he going to propose? Ria thought as she unfolded her arms and took his hand in hers and widened her eyes.

“... I love you and you’ll always be in my heart. There will be no other woman that could or will take that residence. As you are moving to New York, I have been thinking a lot about us and our relationship and the changes it will make to our lives, and I think we should...”