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Check below for book updates, upcoming releases, sales on my books, and my current WIPs. Thanks for stopping by!

H.N. Sieverding

Upcoming Book Release Dates

None scheduled

Book Promotions

Beginnings (the Nightwalkers’ Prequel) is $.99 on Amazon

Book Updates

The Gateway and Secret Scarlet are unavailable due to book updates. They should be back up soon!

Current Projects

Editing Vulcan’s Nightmare, Apocalypse, Christian’s Shadow, House of Lies series.


Writing Astoria Foxes, Plague Star, Christian’s Dreamer.

Contact H.N.

Formatting Text Messages

Texting. How the heck do you format text messages in your novel?!

There are so many ways to do it, so which is best?

One thing that’s the same with all the ways I’ve seen is writers usually put the text messages in italics, another font, or both, so it stands out from the text. Keeping it simple seems to be the best way I’ve found. Why? Because when you convert your manuscript into an ebook, your beautiful formatting can get messed up. Ekk!

I did updates on Verona Wolves this morning, so it’s still open on my desktop. I’ll grab a few texting conversations from that book to use as examples.

First Example: This is how my former publisher, SCP, taught me to format texts. Though it works great when you have one text message, when you have a back-and-forth conversation with two people, it can confuse the reader on who typed what. I don’t format text messages like this anymore.

From Verona Wolves: Firebird Series Book #1

Second Example: This is how the editor at another publisher I signed with dealt with text messages. Messages are italicized and formatted like the character is reading. If you want text messages to hide within the text, this is a good way to do it, but if you have longer texting conversations, I don’t think it works as well.

From Verona Wolves: Firebird Series Book #1

Third Example: I’m not fond of this way but I’ve seen people use it.

From Verona Wolves: Firebird Series Book #1

Fourth Example: I like this one and it’s probably one of my favs. It’s set up how you see messages on your phone and stands out from the rest of the text.

From Verona Wolves: Firebird Series Book #1

Fifth Example: I like this way, though it’s plain. It tells you who’s talking, stands out from the text, and is easy to read. The downside to this way is it can get boring to read when you have longer texting convos.

From Verona Wolves: Firebird Series Book #1

How do you format text messages in your manuscripts? Add your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to see them!

Which POV Is Your Favorite?

My Opinion On POV Types 

First Person: Though I don’t mind writing in first person, it’s not my favorite. I hate saying “I” all the time, and I don’t like to connect with my characters on that level. It feels too personal.

Second Person: I despise second person and I won’t write a book in this POV. Directions or written instructions, though? Sure thing. I like helping. (FYI, never ask me for directions or be your guide. I have no sense of direction.)

Why I hate it? I don’t like being told what to do in books or like telling people what to do. I feel like a pushy dominatrix when I write in second person. It’s uncomfortable for me. Sure, I’d look cute in the heels and dress, and it sounds kinky, but it’s not happening. I hate playing the dominant role, and writing second person sticks me there. And don’t imagine me as a dominatrix. Trust me, I would giggle through it, and ruin the fun.

I’m guessing publishers aren’t fond of second person, either. I was told by a few editors not to refer to the reader as “you” or ask too many questions in narration.

Third Person (limited): This is my favorite and what POV most of my books are written in. Why I love third person? It’s perfect. It has that distance I need and is the most comfortable for me to write. I’m not becoming a character or am limited to talking in their vernacular in narration.

Third Person Omniscient: I used to do this and WISHED someone told me it wasn’t well-liked. Head-hopping, like in omni POV, isn’t allowed by many of publishers. If I could go back and talk to younger H.N. when she started writing, I’d tell her NOT to do this. It screwed me up for years and is still a habit I slip into without realizing it.

I didn’t know I shouldn’t do this until I signed my first series, CK, and the editor told me I needed to rewrite it in third person limited POV. It was impossible without rewriting the entire book, and I was a cocky little brat in the beginning (I wish I could change her too), so they let it slide and nailed me on the next few books I signed with them.

A fault with newbie authors? They think everything they do is right. I grew out of that stage and am way more flexible now when working with editors and publishers. Though, I can still pitch a fit if they want to change too much of my storyline. But we all have limits in that realm.

What’s your favorite POV to write/read? Leave your thoughts in the comments.

Pieces of Me

This post by H.N. Sieverding about Resembling Your Characters got me thinking about the pieces of me, both the obvious and not so obvious, sprinkled throughout the Reborn series.

There’s the saying to “write what you know” – and in many ways I definitely did that in Reborn. Siobhan and I have several superficial similarities and differences. At one time, we were both blonde. Although, as I was just joking about with Ms. Sieverding, my highlights have grown out during the pandemic, so my natural brown hair is showing now. My hubby likes to tease me about it, but he says he loves my hair/me either way. (Good answer.) Siobhan is short, whereas I’m on the taller side.

Our backgrounds are probably the most similar thing. Like Siobhan, I grew up in a small town in western Pennsylvania (and Shadesburg is my fictional version of Pittsburgh). She also loves…

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Resembling Your Characters

My son, who recently asked me why I photoshopped myself on the cover of Black Kat, inspires this post. In his defense, he hadn’t seen this cover since he was little and I’ve heard this from several other people.

My books are adult-themed, so I don’t discuss them with him, either. Now his friends know his mom’s a “famous” author and did a bunch of research on me during a free period. I have mixed emotions about sixth-graders researching my books. It’s uncomfortable, yet I’m flattered they think I’m cool.

I’ve noticed A LOT of authors, especially newbies, make their main characters like them even when not meaning to. Maybe it’s in their character’s looks or personality, or it’s a fantasy they’re acting out through a story they wrote.

Even in veteran authors’ books, they bury pieces of themselves in their stories. Our likes and dislikes, as well as our fantasies. Woo…the last one is juicy, right?! If I’m reading through a friend’s book, I have fun picking out the pieces of them hidden in the story.

Let’s get to the other parts of me that leak out in Black Kat. It’s not as exciting as you’d think. So…sorry to disappoint. I love figure skating and watched it with my bestie when I was a kid along with gymnastics. Though I rocked at rollerblading, I never did well at ice skating but wished I did, so I made Gwen a skater.

The hockey part for the book came in because my nephews play and I used to attend the hockey games with my brother and his family. Fun times. *cough* especially the strip show at the end of the Thunderbird games.

The biggest reason I wrote the book was an author friend did a research novel on MMA, and I thought it looked like a fun challenge, so I researched hockey. I interviewed a college hockey player for my book, so shout out to Austin for letting me ask him a million questions while I wrote it. There’s a scene in Black Kat toward the end that comes from one of Austin’s hockey stories involving a homemade trophy.

Other characters of mine who have pieces of me? Let’s do a list.

Character most like me (overall): Addison Vallore (Christian’s Kisses). She’s closest to me in personality. Addison’s nerdy, yet ditzy, a little hyper, an artist, and a hopeless romantic/dreamer.

Character who looks most like me: Aleesia Sasson (Bloodlust Prince), especially since I switched back to blonde hair a while back.

Male character most like me: Hunter Callahan (Firebird Series). This is weird, but my close friends, who know my crude sense of humor, would agree. Because of that, and his warm personality, he’s the (male character) most like me.

This was a fun glimpse into my mind, right? I’d love to see more authors make a list and reveal a few secrets hidden in their books. If you do one, let me know! I’d love to see it.

Get your copy of Black Kat on Amazon!

Interview with Author H.N. Sieverding

Check out my interview with S.L. Stacy and read an excerpt from Verona Wolves!

Happy Friday Eve! Today I’m really excited to have one of my author friends, and all-around cool lady, H.N. Sieverding back on my blog! I interviewed her some years back, around when I first started this blog, so we’re long overdue to check in with her. In addition to being a bestselling author of vampire and sports fiction novels, Ms. Sieverding is a fabulous graphic designer (she’s made all the book covers for the Reborn series!). She was also one of the first author friends I met via WordPress, and I’m so glad we’ve been able to keep in touch over the years.

Check out my interview with her below, followed by an excerpt from her sports romance novel, Verona Wolves.


Author Bio:H.N. Sieverding is an author and graphic artist. Several of her novels have hit bestsellers’ lists, including theChristian’s Kisses, Nightwalkers,andCheck Mateseries…

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White Cotton: A Short Story by Rich Voza

I posted this short story written by a fellow author, Rich, almost ten years ago. I always liked it, so I want to share it again. Rich is one of the most talented writers I’ve ever met. I hope we see more stories from him soon! Keep writing, Rich!

H.N. Sieverding

White Cotton: A Short Story by Rich Voza

Check out Rich’s writing/books and get some great editing advice at –> brainsnorts.com

“Don’t get attached.”

“It’s just sex.”

“Don’t take anything personally.”

“You’re an actor, pretending to be someone else.”

“Think of it as working out at the gym or cheerleading practice.”

There were other things Jess had told Marti a year ago about becoming an escort.  Grades in college were not as good as they should have been, and there was no time to work even if a part-time job was available.  Luckily, college towns have a lot of college money, and they’re willing to pay for college students.

“It’ll be fine.  They’re all tested, and they’re all traceable if something happens.  They won’t hurt you, but trust me that you’ll hurt them.  You’ll break their hearts because they’re going to want you.  They’re going to tell you that they’ll dump their wives for you.  Trust me, it never happens.  But you want to make them say it anyway, because it means they’ll be back.  And their wallets will open a little further each time.  And so will you.”

When bills were mounting, it was important to simplify.  When they would go out to clubs, Jess was always paying, until the pride was swallowed and the question was asked.  Jess said, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask.  Let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you all about it.”  Marti had never seen Jess with so big a smile.

“No friggin’ way!”

“Swear to God.”

“How can you do that?”

“I said the same thing, and it was way easier than I thought.  All the work is done for you.  You just show up, there are so many clothes and outfits to choose from.  Ms. Coven, the boss, she’ll buy you whatever you want.  Most of the time they’ll tell you what to wear anyway.  You just might have to grease yourself up a little.  It’s all safe, all protected.  It’s far enough out of town.  You won’t see any of the stupid college guys from around here because they’d never be able to afford you.  You might see their fathers though.   And please keep this in mind.  They only take beautiful people.  If you weren’t pretty enough, I would not have told you all this.”

The rent paid for room 6I at the Ivy Arms was easily covered by the clientele.  Ms. Coven had the only key.  She had the only list of her staff.  She had the only list of the clients.  As far as anyone in the building knew, a nice, older woman lived very quietly and had occasional business partners for daytime meetings.  If something went wrong, she had her explanation solid.  “It’s not prostitution.  This nice couple hired me as a sex therapist.”

It was a small, two-bedroom suite for which Ms. Coven got a reduced rent because of the renovations she paid for, specifically the master bathroom with the double vanity, garden tub, grotto double-sized shower with cushioned benches, and heat lamps.  More time was spent in the bathroom suite than the bedroom but often through choice.  All staff and clients were required to shower both before and after visits or it would be the last time either that client or staff ever set foot in the apartment.  Even so, most clients just could not wait and wanted business to begin with the shower, often ending there as well.

The second bedroom was Ms. Coven’s secure office.  It was simply furnished and mainly served as a place where occasionally Ms. Coven would hide, listen, and watch occasional transactions through hidden camera and microphones.  She was smart enough to leave nothing directly connected to her in the apartment, which was actually rented by a company called “Behavioral Health Associates,” which was nothing more than a post office box on the other side of the country.  She had a degree in social science and had the credentials to claim to be a therapist.

When Ms. Coven met Marti, she was so pleased that she gave Jess double the usual recruiting bonus.  In the envelope with the money was a note that said, “This one is going to break hearts.”  After the first year, a few hearts had been broken, but Marti’s was one of them.

In apartment 6I, everyone had their own armoire with their favorite “gift wrappings.”  That’s what Ms. Coven called their lingerie and accessories such as blindfolds, handcuffs, toys, lotions, etc.  She supplied them with anything they needed, and anything they needed was theirs alone without any sharing.  Safer that way.  Ms. Coven was willing to spend up front because trends had shown that investments in this business eventually more than paid for themselves.

“Yes, Ms. Coven,” Marti said.  “I know.  I’ve had this type before.  I can handle it.”

After a shower and a peek at the clock, the armoire that said “Marti” opened.  “I’ve had this type before,” was said again silently.  But those words were said months ago.  The voice mail that day said he was wealthy but shy, and if all went well, this one would want Marti all to himself, exclusively, and he’d be able to pay the extra easily and regularly.  Memories of him brought Marti to reach for just the right item in the armoire: his white dress shirt.  Marti’s eyes closed while buttoning, then unbuttoning.  Memories of how he unbuttoned it, or tried to the first time.  His fingers unable to coordinate, twice getting them out of sequence, and it was amazingly cute.  Sure, in basic terms, he was paying money to fuck Marti.  But other than that, amazingly cute.

Jess had warned her that some girls had gotten too attached, believing they’ll convince guys to dump their wives for them and save them from this job.  Jess had done it once, and it did not end well.  Nor had it ended well for Marti.

Sitting on the bed were memories of one of their more special times.

He had a weekend conference in Florida and flew Marti down, had a car waiting, and they enjoyed the pool and beach when he wasn’t in meetings.  They met in the bar at lunch and pretended to have just met.  They met at a restaurant away from the conference hotel and pretended to have just met.  They met at clubs a cab ride away and pretended to have just met.  Marti didn’t love it but liked it a lot.  Didn’t love or like him but it was somewhere between and changing a little each time they were together.

They spent hours together in Marti’s room each night, hours including the balcony, the elevator, the stairs, the sauna, the parking lot, and near the pool.  It was sad that he always had to return to his room in case one of the other associates was looking for him or his wife called.  Once, as he was dressing again, he pulled his shirt on more easily than the first time when he had fumbled with the buttons.  Marti crept up behind him, reached beneath his arms, and unbuttoned it.

“Hey,” he smiled, “I have to go.”

“But you can leave this with me.”

He turned, smiled, kissed Marti on the forehead, and giggled.  That shirt was slept in that night and many other nights.  The material felt perfect, such soft cotton.  If you put it on a hanger, his shoulders, his pecks, his waist would be obvious.  All perfectly matched him.  It was not easy to give in and wash it, wash the smell of him out of it.

“Custom made,” he said.  “I have a few dozen of them.  Gifts from – someone.”  And he left, and never came back again.  No notes, no explanations, no apologies.  He had left a plane ticket to return home, and a car had already been arranged at both ends.  But Marti wanted to see him in the airport lounge and pretend to have just met.  Acting classes were good at teaching the art of small talk.  Now, Marti just felt small.

On this day, with this new client, no buttons were fastened.  Completely open, the collar pulled wide, breasts exposed.  “I’ve had this type before,” echoed again.  A glass of cocoanut rum over ice slid down easily, which was well into taking effect when there was a knock, and Ms. Coven’s assistant answered, then excused himself after searching the client for anything not permitted in the apartment 6I.  Then he left and locked the door behind him.  The client followed the previously reviewed directions and headed for the shower where there were towels and a stocked liquor cabinet.  Vodka over ice, then a shower, then dressed in something special before returning to the living room that was darker than before.

Marti, with nothing but the white dress shirt and another glass of rum, walked softly in bare feet from the bedroom into the living room where the client stood admiring a soft leather arm chair.  The client saw Marti, smiled, and stood before the leather chair.  Bare feet were chosen because it seemed submissive.  This one liked that.

Marti walked slowly, feigning shyness, but admiring the long legs in black thigh-hi stockings, 4-inch heels, a black leather vest, and a black thong with what seemed like diamonds in the front.

The tall woman smiled down at Marti, extending a hand and taking one back.  She ran her older hands along Marti’s forearm to a bicep until the rolled up sleeve of the white dress shirt stopped her.  The tall woman opened the shirt and put her soft hands around Marti’s waist, pulling closer for a soft kiss.

“It’s just a person,” Marti repeated.  “Enjoy the attention.  Don’t get attached.  She doesn’t love you.  She just wants to borrow you.”  Closing one’s eyes and just enjoying the warmth of a mouth on one’s neck, regardless of the gender, sometimes feels like love.  Marti learned to enjoy being pulled close, this time feeling both the soft leather vest and the softer D cup breasts spilling out.  What Ms. Coven had said about this one?

She was angry.  After years of wondering, she finally stopped asking her husband if he had cheated on her.  There were always questionable things, and his answers were never convincing.  She told her husband that she would never question him again.  She would be the quiet wife and play along, smile at parties, kiss him in public to protect the assets, but she was going to have her own fun.  She was going to find her own “toys.”  She would become someone else’s “toy.”  For a while it was one.  Then two, eventually three, and eventually she realized that something more was needed.  She enjoyed giving up herself to the power of others, but today she was going to be in charge.  She didn’t like herself, and she was in pain.  Today, she was bringing pain to someone else.  She would find ways to let her husband know what she’d done.  Stained clothing was the easiest.  It was her turn, and she was making the most of it.  Her playing hurt him more than his playing had hurt her because she was the mother of his children.  For some reason, to them, it was different.  All those years of spoiling him, giving him everything, and now she was spoiling herself.  Giving herself to whoever she wanted, and taking whoever she wanted.

The “type” put a finger beneath Marti’s chin, lifted, and feasted on the exposed, vulnerable neck.  One hand found Marti’s curly hair.  Her fingers wrapped into the brunette locks, pulling back to show even more neck to feed on.  Marti had trouble remembering that it was just a job.  The woman’s lips and tongue found just the perfect spot behind Marti’s ear.  Knees weakened.  The woman sensed that and guided Marti to kneel, then she stood with her legs apart.  Marti had not felt this good in a long time.  Not since Florida.  Marti had been toughened but was now softening a little.

Again, the woman’s fingers locked in Marti’s hair, and she guided mouth and tongue to her thighs.  Marti reached both hands holding the woman’s ass and pulling her closer, tongue working its way beneath the thong.  Saliva mixed with something that dripped as the woman pushed Marti’s face closer to where it felt good.  More than good.  The tall woman sat in the leather chair, draped her legs over each arm, and pulled Marti closer as her legs grew further apart.  The woman’s hands worked their way to Marti’s neck, massaging tense muscles as they both grew hungrier.  The woman pushed back the collar of Marti’s white dress shirt, exposing soft shoulders that begged to be kissed.

The woman sat up, heels on the floor, and pushed the white dress shirt off Marti’s arms.  Marti reached up and began to pull off the woman’s thong.  Eyes, hunger, and pulse growing, and fumbling hands pulling the thong down for the woman to step out of, but those tall heels remained planted on the floor.  Marti looked up.

The woman, now standing over Marti, had a curious expression.  She looked down at Marti and asked, “Young man, where did you get this shirt?”

Author Interview: S.L. Stacy

Coming soon! Retribution: Reborn Series Book #4!

While going through old posts and cleaning up the site, I realized I didn’t do an “official” author interview with S.L. Stacy here! I interviewed her on a radio show I co-hosted with Tricia Andersen about seven years ago, but that doesn’t count.

S.L’s written a stack of books. I’m proud of how far she’s come since I met her. I think we’ve been friends for about nine years, give or take a year, and I did the cover art for her Reborn Series. I’ve seen her go from working on her first draft of Reborn, to becoming a best-selling author. It’s fun to see your writer friends become big-time authors! I love it!

I’m excited to interview her and let you all meet her. I’ve featured her in a few of my posts, so maybe you know a little about her. And besides being a talented author, Dr. Stacy is a scientist. How cool is that?

If you like my books, I think you’ll like hers. Hop over to Amazon and check them out. Reborn is FREE to download on Amazon, so snag your copy HERE.

H.N. Sieverding

Let’s Meet Author S.L. Stacy!

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Author Bio: S.L. Stacy is the author of the Amazon bestselling Reborn series, including the novels Reborn, Relapse, and Reclaim, and two novellas, Revenge and Rectify. Her stories blend the allure of paranormal romance with the adventure of science fiction, but she prefers more nuanced endings over the straightforward HEA. She loves dark, tragic antiheroes, a la Damon Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries) and Julian (The Forbidden Game). Her favorite authors include L.J. Smith, Karen Marie Moning, J.K. Rowling, Orson Scott Card, Kelly Creagh, Cassandra Clare, and Sarah J. Maas. She is currently hard at work on the next book in the Reborn series (when she isn’t watching Riverdale).

Interview Questions

Reborn Series Box Set (Books 1-3.5) Kindle Edition

What genre do you write and why? I write romantic fantasy and urban fantasy. I used to call it paranormal romance, but fans of that genre have certain expectations about the book formula and ending. Which is absolutely fine! I just don’t always like following those formulas, haha. I write in these genres because I enjoy mixing old myths with our modern world.

What is the best review you’ve ever gotten? This isn’t a specific review, but a few times I’ve had readers tell me they don’t normally read fantasy or paranormal books, but they like mine. I always enjoy hearing that!

What advice would you give a new writer just starting out? My advice is to just write—get that first draft down and don’t worry about how bad it is, lol. Keep writing, get the words down—you can fix it later.

Do you outline your stories? I usually write a basic outline. I often know the beginning, the middle, and how it ends, but not exactly how the characters will get there. And sometimes they surprise me! At the end of the day, though, the characters are in charge, and I’m just along for the ride. Maybe that sounds a bit weird, lol, but it’s true.

Are you working on any new books right now? I am writing the fourth (and final) installment of my Reborn series. It’s tentatively called Retribution. I’m not sure if that will change, but it might!

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S.L. Stacy’s Social Media Links


Web site/blog

Twitter: @sstacy06

Amazon Author Page

Excerpt From The Reborn Series

This is an excerpt from my WIP, Retribution (Reborn #4), so it might be a little rough. Most of the time, my main characters—Siobhan and Jasper—are involved in some pretty epic drama, but this is more of a silly moment between them.

S.L. Stacy

“Siobhan?” Jasper raps on the bathroom door, his tone hesitant. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I tell him, toweling my hair dry. “Be out in a sec.”

“No worries. You’ve just been in there for a while. Thought you drowned or something.”

“Ha, ha.” Lowering the towel, I study myself in the mirror. My hair falls around my face in wet, dark clumps.  Taking my comb, I start to gently pick apart the tangles.

Once the strands fall straight and smooth once again, I feel like I can properly assess the dye job. Yep. While Jasper was sleeping in, I spent the morning dying my blonde hair black.

It’s a drastic change, to say the least. When I bought the box of Onyx hair dye at the pharmacy yesterday, I hadn’t completely thought it through. I’m not sure how much effort I’m willing to put into maintenance once my roots start showing. And I don’t even want to think about what I’m going to have to do to get rid of it if I get sick of it. For now, though, I’m kind of liking it. Sure, with my pale skin I resemble a very washed out vampire, but it’s striking. Dramatic. Dark, like my mood.

I set the comb on the sink and emerge from Jasper’s bathroom.

He’s sitting on the bed, scrolling through something on his phone. “Finally,” he says, glancing up with a smile before his eyes return to the screen. “I’ve had to pee for hours.” I see him stiffen, his head slowly lifting to look at me again in that did-I-just-see-what-I-think-did way. For a few moments, he studies me silently, midnight blue eyes wide.

“Your hair,” he finally says after a while. “It’s…different.”

Smiling, I run a hand over the still damp strands. “Do you like it?”

“I…yes. Yes, I do.” He rubs his chin, seeming to choose his next words carefully. “I do, but it threw me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to go into the bathroom a blonde and come out a Morticia Addams.”

I laugh, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know about the Addams family?”

“I’m not as completely pop culture illiterate as you think I am.” Reaching over, he traces the side of my face, tucking a section of hair behind my ear. “I do like it. It’s hot.”


“Really.” Gathering me close to him, he captures my mouth in a gentle but urgent kiss. It pours all the way through me like a shot of espresso, warming me all the way to my toes. Too quickly, he pulls away.

“As much as I want to follow up on that kiss,” he says, getting up from the bed, “I’d better grab a shower while it’s still available. You might go back in and come out with a buzz cut.”

“I wouldn’t get a buzz cut,” I call after him. “I’d just shave it all off. Go full Britney 2007.”