Showing posts with label #writerslife #romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #writerslife #romance. Show all posts

Thursday, July 28, 2022

Freedom and Independence to Follow My Dreams


(This first appeared as a blog on Windtree Press)

I live in a country the, USA, where I can enjoy the freedom and independence to follow my dreams.

My dream is to write and publish stories that I love for others to enjoy.

The job of writing is an independent job. I don’t have a ‘boss’ or a time clock or a paycheck! Once I sell a book to a publisher, I will have a boss, a deadline for revisions and a paycheck!

For now I am my own boss, which is fine with me. Except for the fact my boss is sometimes lax in cracking the whip and getting my butt in the chair and fingers on the keyboard.

Acrylic painting of flowers by Diana McCollum
My beginning art class

As an independent writer I can pursue writing courses, business courses and learning as much as I can about publicity from sites such as Canva. I can enjoy my other artistic pursuits which includes, but is not limited to, acrylic painting on canvas.

I am immensely thankful that I worked for a company who took care of their employees. Not only in the present day, but thinking ahead to the employee’s retirement. Because of the retirement investments of 22 years being employed by the same company, I am in a comfortable spot in life. Not wealthy, but not worried about finances. Comfortable.

When I retired from MCM Construction my husband and I were able to move to OR and take care of my mom. I started following  my dream of publishing books. I took classes. POV Author Services offers beginning and advanced writing classes, also classes on the business side of writing. I met with writer friends and went to conferences.

Then the pandemic hit and everything moved to online, Zoom ,or Facetime. I learned a whole other way of learning and visiting. Of course, no more meeting at the tea or coffee house with friends. Instead, once in a while we met in smaller groups on front porches or backyards.

Along the way I’ve found out a lot about myself. Writing does that for you. I encourage one and all to write in a journal. Every day, once a week, you choose. Believe me you will find out things about yourself you never knew.

Diana's old chairMaybe you will find you have a story in you that is waiting to be put to paper, or typed into the computer. Ideas for stories can come from anywhere. Newspaper and magazine articles are a good source for ideas. Special events which happened in your own life or the life of someone you know. Or an interest in a certain subject. Or a picture of my old chair could surely stimulate the imagination.

With me it was paranormal, witches and magic.  My Pennsylvania grandmothers both had superstitions they lived by. Having lived their whole lives in PA, sometimes in PA Dutch country, and the superstitions abound in Dutch country.

One grandma believed to cure warts you only had to find a tree stump with rain water in it. On a full moon collect some of the stump water to douse your wart and it would kill it.

Both grandmothers and my mom believed things came in threes: death, accidents, good fortune, found money, etc.

There were lots of sayings about brooms. Jumping over a broom stick with your intended seals the marriage, a broom stick across the doorway keeps evil and bad luck out, a broom in the corner is for sweeping away bad juju. And on and on it goes.

My mother’s grandfather and her uncles made brooms. My mom and her sister had to take the straw to the creek and tie it in bundles and walk on it in the water to soften it for processing.

Listening to my mom and aunt talk about broom making got me thinking. Where do witches get their brooms? And so my first idea for a story was born. That specific story is yet to be written, although it is outlined. H-m-m? Maybe I’ll start that one next!

In the meantime, I do have a few books and short stories for you to enjoy.  For more information check out my website.



Thursday, June 4, 2020

The Children's' Book That Brought me Comfort by Dora Bramden

Since developing as a writer I’ve done a lot of reflective thinking about stories. I’ve discovered that my personal story, that is my life journey has a lot to do with the books I connected strongly with and resonated with me. More than that, it began in childhood.

I also was born with a medical condition that surfaced around age ten. This meant I had, what seemed to me, very long stays in the hospital. I suffered acutely the separation from family life and started to wonder if I would ever get to go home again. My only link was my mother’s daily visits. During those, she read Johanna Spyri’s ‘Heidi’ out loud to me.
I quickly became enraptured in the story of the Heidi, Grandfather, Peter, and the little goats. Although I was stuck in a hospital bed, while Mum read I was running barefoot on the grassy slopes with my new little friend.

I was so sad for Heidi when she was taken away to live with poor Clara. She had to live in the city away from everything she’d grown to love so dearly. There was a happy ending of course and Mum must have chosen this book with care, because Heidi eventually went home, better equipped for life than she was before.

There were lots of story points that resonated strongly with me and still do. I’ve reread it many times over during the years of my life, always gaining something else or being reminded of something important. After I was divorced and enduring an extreme sense of loss of my home and family, I read it again, taking solace in the message that struggle is often a gift, something hard to be learned or endured so that life can change and evolve. And taking comfort from spending time with my childhood friend, Heidi.


I have a new home and am married again.  I have someone to love and I’m loved in return by a kind-hearted man. We’re friendly with my ex and are able to celebrate family occasions altogether. When I got divorced, this was the dream I hung on to and it has come true. During the struggle between happy times, I held it in my heart that difficult times pass. I’ll always be grateful for the story of ‘Heidi’, read to me when I was a little girl who wasn't allowed to go home, because the story showed me I had reason to hope.

I have since learned that this hope has lasted all my life. I think it's why I'm drawn to writing romance novels, they are about hope which is expressed through finding a person love and who loves in return. It's about the creation of a new family and home filled with love. 

Dora Bramden writes heart-melting, passionate, romance.

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Living to the Beat of a Different Drum by Dora Bramden


When you don’t fit in you have no choice but to live a different kind of life, one that is a path forged out of necessity. It can be difficult as you face an unknown road but also freeing because you aren’t bound by the restrictions of a normal life.

My parents were raised on farms in Tasmania, but I was born in working-class suburb north of Melbourne Victoria. In some ways, I was socially more alone than the migrants from Southern  Italy who had each other, The Aussies in our street were all “City Folk” as my mother called them. The Italian families were from the rural south before migrating and I felt I had more in common with them but culturally, I didn’t belong there either.

Add to that how tall I grew. By age 12 I stood  5’11” and I towered above all the kids at my high school. I got teased about it relentlessly but it meant that I wasn’t to live life in the shadows but I didn’t like standing out. Back then it drew negative comments because I didn’t embrace the gift and walk with head held high. I hunched my back trying to be small.
I was born with a kidney condition that required stays in hospital and scarring from operations on my stomach, so no midriff tops when they came into fashion, no bikini for me even though all my friends wore them. But I needed to fit in somehow, and I kept trying hard to do all the normal things.

After school, I longed for a career doing something creative but I was funneled into office work, which I was never very good at. Later, I got married and had children but my health issue handicap eventually undermined my best efforts to live a regular life. I started to embrace my uniqueness and gave up office work and searched for a creative career. I needed to survive and that was going to have to be living to the beat of my own drum. Out of necessity, I started to make decisions based on what I really needed to do,  and not what was expected of me.

I started writing full time. Being an author was not one of the jobs I was ever given as an option. So making the choice to skill up for this was surprising to many but it opened a whole new world for me. Dora is short for Dorothy, and like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, it was like I walked out of my black and white life and into a Technicolor one.

My first RWAustralia conference experience was at the fancy dress cocktail party. Everyone was dressed up for the theme ‘Spellbound’. I walked into a room that was alive with color, cheerfulness, and camaraderie. It drew me in like a warm hug and I made new friends that welcomed me into this special world of romance writing, and I have to say I’ll never leave.

When writing my contemporary romance novels, a recurring theme is the main characters stepping out of the life they thought was expected of them and into a life that they are truly equipped for. It is here that they find the love we all want to have in our lives. Once they are being authentic and living large, they are then seen in all their true beauty, shining like stars, they are attractive to the one that is the perfect-for-them-match.

Katrina from The Italian Billionaire’s Secret Baby needed to see that she was capable of breaking free of what was expected to become a mother and keep her Ballet Career. When she became pregnant she was forced to step out of the life she’d settled for and create the one she could really thrive in, Alessandro had to do the same if he wanted her to be a part of his life.

It happened to me after I wrote the stories. I had the knowledge of what needed to happen in my life but applying it was super scary. After I had been set free in the world, I felt abandoned at first, but I had my romance author friends who supported me, and I bravely stepped into my new creative and wonderful life. That’s when I met Sam. 

An Aussie with Italian heritage, he’s a real-life hero because he loves me as I am. On my dating profile under the category ‘The first thing people notice about you” I wrote, “I’m tall.” He thought that was very funny and it was what drew him to me. He’s fine with me being a tall woman. As far as my choice of career, he proudly tells people I’m a romance writer and that I won an award. (I came first in the short romance category of the Australian RWA’s Emerald Award.)

 As far as my health issues go, I was upfront about them at our first meeting. He empathized with me and after only one month of dating, he started driving me to my doctor’s appointments and stayed right by my side through scary tests. The things that had felt so wrong about me as a child feel exactly right now.

It can seem overwhelmingly wrong to be authentic and embrace our uniqueness, but nothing fulfilling comes from living a half-life. We all need to beat on our own unique drum.

FYI. Our wedding story is on my blog https://www.dorabramden.com/doras-blog/my-wedding-day

I have two heart-melting, passionate, romance’s and a short story currently published on Kindle. Click the links below to find me on Amazon, Instagram, Facebook, and my website.

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Dora Bramden’s Honeymoon in the Wine District of Rutherglen Victoria Australia



 Monday, we arrived at Carlyle House in the afternoon. The Victorian facade with gables and verandas decorated with iron lace set the tone for a romantic honeymoon. The owner greeted us and showed us through the high ceilinged ornate entrance hall to our suite. Carlyle House had once been a doctors residence and we were staying in what had once been the consulting rooms converted into a lovely lounge, bedroom and ensuite. They had been named The Tokay suite and were to be our home for the next four nights.




On entering we were greeted with a white MR & MRS sign sitting on the fireplace and rose petals scattered on the hearth area. On the king size bed was a tray with champagne and chocolates and a little dish of blueberries and strawberries. After the romance of our wedding, the honeymoon suite didn’t disappoint.

We began exploring the wine district on Tuesday. After a walk up and down the shops in the main street, and a drive around the town of Rutherglen we had lunch at De Bortoli.  Sam and I couldn’t stop talking about how delicious our meal was. The glass wall of the restaurant looked onto a formal and elegant courtyard. A center fountain focal surrounded by artistic plot plant displays. This made the dining experience very enjoyable.



That evening we went to one of the pubs for dinner and enjoyed well-prepared staples. It was crowded in the pub and we enjoyed seeing who else was dining there.
The next day we drove to Corowa (a nearby town on the Murray River) and walked the shopping district. We noted that a few wineries were on that road and made plans to return in a day or two. We headed to another pub for dinner and recognized a group of two couples that had been dining where we were the night before. They nodded to us and we smiled at them.

We decided to go for a driver farther afield on Wednesday. We lunched at Beechworth, a town renowned for its bakery. However, because I'm a Coeliac I couldn’t eat there, but we found a cafe that had a GF frittata on the menu. We enjoyed browsing the many boutique shops and giftware shops and then enjoyed the drive home. We had booked in at the renowned Taste Restaurant and enjoyed our entree sitting at a table close to the front window. Who should walk in? The same group of four that we’d dined with the last two nights. We took a look at each other and started to laugh. “Hello again,’ we said. They stopped and talked to us for a while about where each of us was staying and what we’d been doing. It turned out they had also been to Beechworth that day for lunch and that they had lunch reservations at the same winery as us for the following day.

Thursday morning we did some wine tasting at Warrabilla Wines because we’d enjoyed drinking their Shiraz with our meal the night before. 



We left with a box of wine and then went on to All Saints for our lunch. We were enjoying our main meal when our new friends came in and it was like a party. We had so much fun talking all about our holiday week in Rutherglen and discovered that we were all leaving to go home the next day. I also found out that one of the couples owns the Newsagent that I’d been going to for about 20 years! So I expect I’ll be seeing them again. We did some tasting after lunch and bought another box of wine. Sam is feeling very happy at this point but I'd kept a keen eye on how many drinks I'd had,  so I drove after lunch.






Friday we left after breakfast for the drive home, stopping at Glenrowan to visit the Ned Kelly (Famous Aussie Bushranger) attractions. 

I found a lovely antique shop with lots of girly things for the Shabby Chic side of me to enjoy.




We stopped for lunch with my cousins who live an hour down the road toward Melbourne. It was lovely catching up with them, but we were happy to eventually get home to our own bed. I'd been totally spoiled and enjoyed all the happy memories of our Wedding and Honeymoon. I’m still basking in the glow of it all.

I'll be uploading a post on my blog of the wedding day tomorrow so check over there for photos of me in at my glamorous best and a journal of my wedding day.


Saturday, November 10, 2018

Christmas is a Romantic Time of Year + Free Book

Dora is short for my birth name Dorothy which means Gift of God. So how could I not have a connection with the spiritual side of Christmas? I love the nativity story, however, I don’t expect everyone to celebrate Christmas the way I do. For many Father Christmas and his magical reindeer pulling a sleigh full of presents for the children is a wonderful tradition that supports the idea of giving to one another. That’s the important thing. That Christmas is experienced as a time of loving one another and giving.

As a child I rarely received presents. My birthday and Christmas were the two times of the year I could look forward to as times to receive something special. As an adult, I have the means to enjoy treats anytime but I also get to give which I like just as much. Christmas remains important because of the family gatherings and spirit of generosity. Sometimes Christmas is hard, like the first one without my mother. But the consolation of family gathering together went a long way to bringing me comfort. Family and gathering together is a hallmark of the festive season.

You’re wondering by now when am I going to make the link to romance. Here it is. What makes Christmas a romantic time of year. Romance is about couples before they are a family. It’s the pre-family we are reading about. How the couples find each other, bond, and become better people is a joyful story of a family just before it’s born.

Romance is about loving relationships. It’s not just about a man and a woman but the idea that at the end there is a happy ever after or at least a happy for now. It leaves me with the hope that they will become a family as well.

Do you agree with me, that romance and Christmas are linked? Comment below with your ideas about what makes Christmas romantic.

In my book The Scottish Billionaire’s Secret Lover there is a strong thread of creating a family. I’m doing something unusual by posting the Epilogue from the book as an excerpt. It shows the happy family that was created during this romantic story on the morning of Christmas day.


In the spirit of Romance at Christmas, I’m giving away a copy of The Scottish Billionaire’s Secret Lover, to everyone reading this blog. For your copy email me at dora@dorabramden.com and tell me what format you’d like your book emailed to you in. You will also receive an invitation to join my newsletter list but do not need to accept to keep the book.

I don’t think it will spoil your enjoyment of the book if you read the epilogue now. But if you think it will you can skip to emailing me straight away for your copy and read it from the start.




Epilogue for The Scottish Billionaire’s Secret Lover


Two years later.
Natalie rocked the nursing chair with one foot keeping a gentle beat that swung her and baby Alistair back and forth. Milk flowed into his mouth and ran out the sides. His powerful suck always amazed her. She glanced up at Angus who’d arrived a few minutes earlier. He was about to say something when he walked in but on seeing her feeding Alistair, words had deserted him and now he leaned, as if transfixed, against the change table. His strong features were softened and glowing with pride and heart-melting tenderness. His gaze locked on his son.
“How are things going downstairs?” She asked.
His gaze flicked to hers. His mouth shaped a warm smile full of love. “The troops are assembled and are waiting for the latest recruit to arrive.”
Alistair’s grip on her breast relaxed and he gurgled. Natalie checked on him as he pushed himself back to look up at her. His mouth made the same shaped, heart-warming, smile as his father. Natalie wiped his mouth with a tissue and he giggled and laughed. “I think he’s full. Tell them we’ll be down in a minute.”
Angus took two long strides across the room and kissed his son on his head and gained a happy gurgle and gummy smile reward. He held Natalie’s face and lined up the angle for a deep kiss. His lips, soft and sensuous melded to hers, his tongue sought the recesses of her mouth and she sighed into him. Something in her chest relaxed and swelled every time he did that. He lifted himself away. “He’s worth everything we went through to get him.” He stroked her hair as he straightened up.
“Yes, all the disappointments and difficulties of the IVF rounds were worth it to get this amazing little bundle of love. But even if it hadn’t worked we were still so very blessed.”
“Absolutely. I’ll see you downstairs.”
Ten minutes later, after burping and changing Alistair, Natalie carried him into the sitting room. Before the blazing fire, safely contained behind the screen, her three adopted children played on the room-sized Persian rug.
One little dark brown face was already turned watching for her entrance. “Mummy,” Zahir said, “Can we see what Santa brought us now?” The younger children, Feisal and Aisha were shaking the boxes that spilled from under the enormous pine tree and trying to guess the contents.
“Yes darling, it’s time to open the presents.”
“Zahir, as you’re the oldest, would you please hand them out?”
He searched the boxes for each child’s name tag and then ceremoniously delivered them.
The surgeons had rebuilt his skull so he didn’t have to turn his head side to side anymore. He’d worked with a speech therapist after his mouth was rebuilt and could now speak clearly. “Just like his Daddy.” he proudly said.  He liked to have his curly dark hair styled like his father’s and wear the same style of clothes too.
When each of the children had a pile of presents in front of them, including baby Alistair they began to tear at the paper. Natalie helped the baby open a box that contained a soft book. His chubby hands grabbed it and activated a cow noise toy inside it. He squeaked and gurgled then shook it again.
There were squeals of delight and much scrunching of paper as each child uncovered the present within. “Look what I got, Mummy and Daddy.” Aisha held up a pair of ballet slippers. “Now Aunty Katrina can teach me to dance.”
“I think she might have put in a special request to Santa for you to get those. She’ll be looking forward to teaching you your first steps,” said Natalie.
She’d managed to have several visits a year with her sisters so her children knew their Aunties. They loved showing them their artworks and academic achievement awards on Skype. Natalie kept in touch via weekly video chats with them too.
It was her only dampener on Christmas, that her sisters wouldn’t be coming to Scotland this year. Ruby came over to be with her for a month’s stay when Alistair was born but he was six months old now. Katie’s having become a single mother made it difficult for her to travel.  Ruby hadn’t been able to get time off from her fashion designer job this Christmas. But Natalie wouldn’t let that stop her enjoying her children today.
Feisal stood up, carrying a large box containing a model train set. “Look Mummy.” He brought it over for her to appreciate properly.
“It’s wonderful darling.” Alistair sat securely propped up in the crook of her arm waving his fabric book. With her free hand, she pulled Feisal close and hugged him and kissed his cheek. He bent down and kissed his baby brother’s head. Next, he carried it over to Angus’s chair. “Daddy, will you help me set it up?”
“Just try and stop me. I’ll hold it while you open the rest of your presents.”
When all the presents had been opened and red, green and gold paper littered the floor, the hall door burst open. Katrina strode in with an impossibly light step, in her arms she carried her little boy Alex. “Merry Christmas!” She made a dramatic entrance that only a prima ballerina can. Her faux fur coat still dusted with snow, a testament to her hurry to surprise them.
Ruby followed Katie into the room. Her red wool coat also had a dusting of snow on the shoulders. “Surprise!” she said.
Natalie jumped up from her chair and handed baby Alistair to Angus before turning and catching her sisters into a three-way bear hug. Then she stood back and kissed the baby boy in Katrina’s arms.
“Hello, Alex. I’m your Aunty Natalie.”  She turned to Angus, “Did you do this?”
“I pulled a few strings.” He winked and smiled with satisfaction. “I wanted you to have a real family Christmas and that meant getting your sisters here.”
“He organized first class seats for me and the baby and Ruby,” said Katrina.
Angus had been relentless in moving mountains to clear the way for bringing the Zahir project to life. He’d called in favors with senators, and gained the numbers he needed in the House of Lords to bring in humanitarian friendly legislation. It didn’t surprise her that he’d find a way to bring her sisters on the other side of the world to her.
She went to his side and sighed as she looked at her family. Their children had abandoned their toys and were clustering around her sisters. Each was picked up, kissed and hugged in turn. “Thank you, Angus. I love you so much.”
Ruby put out her arms to cuddle Alistair. Once Angus passed him across to her he slung his arm around Natalie’s waist and drew her up against him. He placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I love you too, and I always will.”


If you’d like to read the full book I’m giving it away to anyone who emails me at dora@dorabramden.com and asks for a copy. You will also receive an invitation to join my newsletter list but do not need to accept to keep the book.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

What I Do To Refill My Creative Pantry by Dora Bramden




As an author, being creative is an ingredient to what I do. But what happens when the inspiration runs out. I go get some. Just like refilling the pantry I go and get my fill of the world so I can come back and write about it.

Lots of writers that I’ve listened to speak about their routine include a daily walk. I groan at the idea but actually walking is very nice. I like to look around me and see what’s in other people’s gardens or look at nature in parks and observe the people who cross my path.
But a daily walk isn’t as  restoring as having a whole day away from the computer and the four walls of my study. Years ago, I began taking a day for myself once a week. I called it Dora Day because I needed time to think about what gave me pleasure. I didn’t do dishes, cook the dinner or worry about teenagers' or my partner's concerns. They had me every other day but not Dora Day. If an emergency wasn’t worthy of an Ambulance or the Fire brigade I didn’t need to know about it. Dad could handle it.

After starting Dora Day my productivity skyrocketed. I wrote massive word counts. Now that my children are adults, I can take the time to think or do what ever I want but I must remember to do it. If I don’t the inspiration dries up. That is the trigger for me to take an excursion and have an adhoc Dora Day.

But what do I do on these days? I go to places that make me feel inspired and immersed in beauty. For me that is a garden or a gallery. The National Gallery Victoria is my favorite art destination. I park in an all-day car park and walk to the gallery. After visiting the historic fashions and the romantic painters I walk across the bridge for an early lunch at the Hopetoun Tearooms (early to beat the crowd). The afternoon includes a saunter up and down the Royal Arcade which is filled with artisan boutiques. Window shopping in curio shops, or tasting the treats from chocolate specialists Koko Black are some favorite stops. Perhaps a browse in Myer or David Jones to see the latest fashions before heading back to the car.

Another favorite place near the Melbourne City Center is the Fitzroy Gardens. It has a story book atmosphere because of the attractions found there but it’s free entry and there are banks of flowering shrubs and annuals to enjoy. Captain Cook’s cottage sits in the grounds, I don’t worry about going through it every time but I do love to stroll around this heritage cottage. Lunch in the Pavilion Cafe, located in the middle of the gardens, is always delicious and from there it’s a short stroll to the fairy tree and the miniature village. The most magical part of the visit for me, is spending some time in the Conservatory. It’s a wonderland of flowering plants. A distinctly Victorian feel is evoked with the strategic placement of cast iron benches and a bridge over a goldfish pond.  Lacy maiden hair fern fronds soften the natural rock borders and the towering glass house arched windows provide a classic backdrop. In-between is filled with seasonal plantings, fountains and statues. A wonderland that I always find hard to leave.

I guess it’s no wonder I come home feeling so refreshed from these excursions that fill my creative pantry. I suppose we all have special places that call us back again and again. These are the places that replenish our creativity and it pays to heed their call. In fact I think I hear them calling me right now.

Dora Bramden writes contemporary romance
Healing Love, Passionate Romance

You can find out more about Dora and her books at her website.