How I grew up to become a Writer
I was just entering high school; I was new, having just moved to Kansas City, Kansas from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I didn’t know anyone, so I decided to take some extracurricular classes that sounded like they’d be fun. One of them was a creative writing class. Mr. Paris was my teacher. From the moment I entered that class, I knew that I wanted to write. I continued writing throughout my high school career, and even managed to impress my tenth grade English teacher with a short story I wrote on another student. You see, it was Spirit Week, and this boy in our class had dressed as a nerd. The nerd’s name, Mosquito Beetle. He’d worn one of those “Hello, My name is” stickers, and told the class of his love for bugs. I remember it well, and even though the story has been lost throughout the years of moving all over the country, because it was all on paper at the time, I still remember the boy and most of the story with fond memories.
From there I went on to College, majoring in Elementary Education with a minor in English. I took every English class I could, because I love literature. I love to read almost as much as I love to write. So studying the classics and the classic authors was a must for me. I continued to write, poetry and short stories, none of which I shared, ever, unless it was specifically for a class. I was shy. (All of you from Volley View better stop laughing right now! :D) I really was very shy, I was terrified of what others might think of what I’d written, and so I never shared it.
As I grew up, got married, started working with the public, I got more comfortable. And I began sharing stories. The first version I wrote of Courting Danger, Agents for the Crown, was terrible. However, it was the first story I felt had any potential to make it. I worked really hard to improve my style of writing, studying more books, not for their content, but how the authors created such captivating sentences. I studied the structures of the stories. How they added twists and turns and moved the story forward. How their words flowed so naturally. And I took all of what I’d learned and incorporated it into my writing.
When Twilight hit the market, and the paranormal scene took off, I decided to try my hand at writing for young adults. I was working with many of them by this time, and connecting with them helps me to write for them. I knew that I didn’t want to rewrite twilight, or put my own spin on it, I wanted to do something different, and something I hadn’t seen. And that is when I began Soul Mates: Scent. I have to say, it is probably my most favorite story of the ones I have ever written. As I’m sure many writers will tell you, there is always that one story that you are the most proud of, and for right now, Soul Mates: Scent is mine. I hope that you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Love and Light,
Elizabeth A. Lance
When the girl of his dreams walks into his homeroom class one October morning, Max Fergus, a seventeen year old quarterback and star student, has his world turned upside down; everything he has ever thought about himself and his life is changed in that instant and nothing will ever be the same again, because once you know you aren’t human, there’s no going back, no pretending you are less than you are.
Anna Lissa Felidae, a pure blooded shifter has been searching for her soul mate, the one guy that was meant for her, and just when she is sure she is about to run out of time, Diana, goddess of the hunt, appears to her and sends her in the right direction. With another shifter on her trail, one who is determined to have her no matter what the cost, Anna has just three short weeks to convince Max he is a pure blooded shifter, among other things, and teach him to fight so they can be together. With the help of a few Fae friends, a motley crew of shifters and Max’s best friend Tony, they are sure to win.
About the Author:
Elizabeth A. Lance lives with her husband, Brandon, their two tweens, three sassy cats that think they own the house and two crazy German Sheppard-Husky mix puppies. She is the author of the Agents for the Crown Regency series as well as the Young Adult series, Soul Mates. She loves to hear from her fans and can be reached at
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. The girl with the shiny black hair and distinctive blue eyes that seemed to see right down to my very soul. No, the first time I’d seen her was as she stood across the street from my house staring at me as I pulled my ’69 classic Vette out of the garage. It had been the cause of my first real fight with Jenny.
Jenny was my girlfriend. I say was because we broke up that day. She didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know the girl. The next time I saw her was a week later, just standing outside of my school, watching. I only saw her for a second because when I blinked she was gone. For a while I thought I might have been imagining her. Jenny and I tried working things out, we were tentatively dating again, when the girl appeared again. This time though, I knew I wasn’t imagining things when she walked into my homeroom class, her gorgeous black hair hanging loosely down her back, grazing the pockets of her designer jeans. Okay, I didn’t know at the time they were designer, I just figured with a body like hers it would be a sin to put it in anything else.
She was talking with Mr. Jackson when her deep blue gaze connected with mine. It was as if we had both been waiting for this exact moment in time. I couldn’t breath, for fear that she would disappear again. A slow sensuous smile curved her rose colored lips, lips that I was suddenly dying to kiss. I was so enthralled I nearly took my former best friend’s head off when he commented “Dude, check out the hot chick!”
“Shut the hell up Steve,” I growled under my breath as I glanced back at her, but she was back to listening to Mr. Jackson.
“Whoa Dude! I see fireworks coming! Jenny is gonna be pissed!”
I’d forgotten Jenny in those fifteen magical seconds. Steve was right. Jenny wasn’t going to be happy to see the girl we’d fought about weeks ago. But there was something about her that drew me to her. It was cosmic, or fate or something and I knew she felt it too as she walked down the aisle toward me.
“Class this is Anna Lissa Felidae, from Quebec, please make her feel welcome.”
Her name suited her, she moved in a feline kind of way. Her hips swayed just a bit as she got closer to me and I started breathing hard as I realized she was headed straight toward me. I didn’t have the foggiest idea of what to say, me, president of the student council, captain of the debate team and star athlete, was for once at a loss for words.
“Bonjour,” she said as she took the seat directly behind me, her eyes never leaving my face. Her soft French accent sent chills down my back.
I felt like a brain dead geek. I tried concentrating on just breathing, but her scent was all around me, she smelled dangerous and delicious at that same time. I cleared my throat trying to form words that would make sense. “Ummm, er… Hi. I’m Max. Max Fergus.”
“Max,” she smiled this wicked little smile that made my heart beat even faster. “I’m Anna.”
“Anna,” I breathed her name like a prayer. I felt something inside me shift as I gazed at her and I knew I had just met someone that was going to change my life. I heard nothing for the remainder of homeroom. It was all I could do to stay in my seat and face forward when all I really wanted to do was turn around and take in every ounce of her.
So you can imagine my surprise when I felt her hand on my shoulder and her soft words whispering in my ear. “Max, would you show me to my next class?”
“Uh, sure. What, er… what’s your next class?” I asked still feeling like that brain dead geek I mentioned.
She glanced down at her schedule, her impossibly long black lashes grazed her cheeks for a moment and then she met my gaze again with another smile that made me wonder what she was thinking. “I am supposed to go to Madame Lancaster’s class, Anglaise.”
“Oui, Anglaise.” She smiled and my heart melted.
“Yeah… yeah, I can… um… yeah,” I said blinking like an idiot and nodding. “I’ve got old Mrs. Lancaster first period too.”
“Magnifique!” she replied, her blue eyes twinkling brightly.
I held my breath as she slipped her arm through mine and we stepped out of homeroom together. I scanned the hall and faltered for a moment. A feeling of guilt washed over me. Jenny stood across the hall, waiting on me to walk her to class. She looked… pissed.