K.D. Hanes's Blog

True Love's Secret's release date (September 13th) is quickly approaching! I have narrowed down 3 book covers, now I'm seeking the public's opinion! Cast your vote in the comments below, email me with your thoughts, or follow me on Twitter (@kdhanes) and retweet your fav! Voting ends Thrusday, August 7th!

Description:

Becca Jones never considered herself a religious person, despite her very religious family. She lived her life on her own terms, which led her down a path of degrading situations, minor drug use and ultimately a devastating fight with her father. In an effort to save her friend and potentially stitch back together Becca and her fathers’ relationship, Emily suggests Becca accompany her to a church’s weekend retreat. Becca then finds herself stuck on a horse farm in the middle of nowhere stubbornly avoiding as many bible studies as possible. While on her sixth trail ride of the weekend, her horse continuously tries to “cuddle” with Jeremy’s horse as they walk side-by-side. Becca soon finds herself strangely drawn to this man and proceeds to tell him everything about herself, even allowing him to convince her to attend one bible study with him which leaves her in tears.
Five years later, with a new look on life that her father could be proud of, Becca and Jeremy developed a love for each other stronger than any bond ever formed. Becca encouraged Jeremy to pursue his dream, calling it a sign from God that the Navy had transferred him to the very area where SEALs are trained. But, despite her happiness and love for Jeremy, Becca’s faith is continuously challenged while he proceeds through BUD/S training and she is faced with a reality that is hard for her to accept. Little does Becca know, the surprise of a lifetime is waiting around the corner for her if she can just keep her faith strong for a little while longer…   

 
Thanks again your all your love and support!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW ANY INFORMATION THAT WOULD BE CONSIDERED PRIVILEGED OR WOULD IN ANY WAY JEOPARDIZE THE SECRETIVE DYNAMICS THAT MAKE UP A SEAL TEAM. I simply want to know about "personal time" during the training phases prior to becoming a SEAL. No information provided to me will be published in any way, it will solely be used for the purposes of aiding me in setting the scene for this book (and others to come). Any identities revealed to me through personal emails or messages will be kept strictly confidential. I cannot be held responsible for any republication of any information provided in a publicly viewed comment below.

Hello all! I am in the final editing stages of True Love's Secret! Though this book is entirely fictional, I want to be as accurate as possible when it comes to certain circumstances surrounding Navy SEALs' training, so I am reaching out to the public for any retired or active duty Navy SEALs (or even the gentlemen who have gone through the training and discovered it wasn't the career path they wanted to continue down). Even if some of their brave girlfriends/wives want to throw in some information about life as the girlfriend/wife/fiance of a Navy SEAL in training, I would love to hear from you as well!

During the process of writing this book, I have done very thorough research on the extensive training these courageous men go through to become SEALs, but I cannot find anything that would lead me in the direction of their lives outside of training. Clearly the training is very extensive and I'm sure leaves very little down time, but I'm curious of the following:

1. What does a typical day of training look like? How long does it last?
2. Do you have any "down time" during the training phases?
3. I couldn't even begin to imagine the exhaustion you must feel by the end of the day but if you were up to it, would the possibility for a date every now and then arise during the first few phases of training (assuming your woman is in the same area near you)? A man's gotta eat dinner sometime, right?
4. What does it feel like to complete such intense training and actually become a SEAL?
5. Does Hell Week come out of nowhere or is it scheduled and you know when it will occur? (I have seen articles that suggest both)
6. Have any of you maintained relationships before, during and after the training process? If so, how difficult was that relationship to maintain? Or, how easy was it? What did you do to hold the relationship together? And what was your significant others' reaction to your training to become a SEAL?

To the women who may respond:

1. Tell me exactly what went through your mind when your man told you his plans to become a SEAL, what kept you sane during his training and how do you manage to continue the relationship now that he has accomplished his goals? - I would imagine those of you who have stood by your men are extremely proud among many other emotions that come with the territory.
2. Did you do anything in particular to keep your men motivated and confident?

I appreciate any information regarding the above that anyone is willing to divulge. Please feel free to email your responses to me in a private message or to view a link to contact me directly visit my other blog at http://pnkstilettoz2.blogspot.com/

I would also like to say thank you to each Navy SEAL as well as all other Military Men and Women for all that you have done and continue to do four our country. Thank You.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW ANY INFORMATION THAT WOULD BE CONSIDERED PRIVILEGED OR WOULD IN ANY WAY JEOPARDIZE THE SECRETIVE DYNAMICS THAT MAKE UP A SEAL TEAM. I simply want to know about "personal time" during the training phases prior to becoming a SEAL. No information provided to me will be published in any way, it will solely be used for the purposes of aiding me in setting the scene for this book (and others to come). Any identities revealed to me through personal emails or messages will be kept strictly confidential. I cannot be held responsible for any republication of any information provided in a publicly viewed comment below.
Hello all! I am in the final editing stages of True Love's Secret! Though this book is entirely fictional, I want to be as accurate as possible when it comes to certain circumstances surrounding Navy SEALs' training, so I am reaching out to the public for any retired or active duty Navy SEALs (or even the gentlemen who have gone through the training and discovered it wasn't the career path they wanted to continue down). Even if some of their brave girlfriends/wives want to throw in some information about life as the girlfriend/wife/fiance of a Navy SEAL in training, I would love to hear from you as well!
During the process of writing this book, I have done very thorough research on the extensive training these courageous men go through to become SEALs, but I cannot find anything that would lead me in the direction of their lives outside of training. Clearly the training is very extensive and I'm sure leaves very little down time, but I'm curious of the following:What does a typical day of training look like? How long does it last? Do you have any "down time" during the training phases? I couldn't even begin to imagine the exhaustion you must feel by the end of the day but if you were up to it, would the possibility for a date every now and then arise during the first few phases of training (assuming your woman is in the same area near you)? A man's gotta eat dinner sometime, right? What does it feel like to complete such intense training and actually become a SEAL?Does Hell Week come out of nowhere or is it scheduled and you know when it will occur? (I have seen articles that suggest both) Have any of you maintained relationships before, during and after the training process? If so, how difficult was that relationship to maintain? Or, how easy was it? What did you do to hold the relationship together? And what was your significant others' reaction to your training to become a SEAL?  To the women who may respond:Tell me exactly what went through your mind when your man told you his plans to become a SEAL, what kept you sane during his training and how do you manage to continue the relationship now that he has accomplished his goals? - I would imagine those of you who have stood by your men are extremely proud among many other emotions that come with the territory.  Did you do anything in particular to keep your men motivated and confident?I appreciate any information regarding the above that anyone is willing to divulge. Please feel free to email your responses to me at the following link: Contact KD Hanes
I would also like to say thank you to each Navy SEAL as well as all other Military Men and Women for all that you have done and continue to do four our country. Thank You.

...My heart skips a beat. The wind is knocked out of me and suddenly I’m standing alone, completely surrounded by countless blurred faces in a familiar open foyer from my past. I stand motionless in the midst of scurrying adolescents, clutching my books to my chest. Sheepishly, I look up from my polished mary-janes. I see you for the first time, again. You sit across the way, thoughtfully gazing through the glass towards the open field outside. I find myself in a trans; unable to move. You glance at me in the reflection. Your brilliant blue eyes lock with mine. Your face softened into a sweet smile mirroring my own. We had a connection, you and me; brief as it were. For five whole seconds we were the only two in existence and in that moment, I knew the image of your intoxicating allure would forever be burned onto my heart like an insignia I would be sentenced to live with for the rest of my life. I would now have to force myself to stay cloaked in the shadows of lies, never to let on to my own true feelings within. For that, I hated you. 

I woke in a cold sweat again, breathless. This is the forth night in a row I have been visited with this bitter sweet vision. Why do these dreams, these flashes of a dead reality, keep haunting me so? Dreams, they say, are visions of the heart’s deepest and truest desires. I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps maybe they are right.

So I am working on one of my next books, Jane, which I plan on releasing in spring/early summer 2015. Though, I am not entirely happy with the title, so it will probably change as I get further into her character and her story.

I am having a lot of fun writing about her. The excitement of learning new information through the abundance of research in different psychological disorders and their various treatments....just wow. Jane is a skitzophranic who suffers from multiple personality disorder, pyromania, and psychogenic amnesia. Right now she is being held hostage in a psychiatric facility after the police had her at the precinct questioning her about a burning house she was sitting in front of which they believed to have been her own. Turns out, it wasn't her house and two people died inside. They had nothing tying her to the crime, besides her presence of course, and as the detective was discussing her release, she had a psychiatric breakdown. Currently, she thinks she is just in the hospital. Maybe she should spend a little less time finding euphoria in staring at burning houses....
 
"...well, again, tell me your name and we will begin."

I had no idea what he was talking about. The very last thing I remembered was putting my head back on the pillow after nurse, whats-her-name, left the room after giving me some water. I truthfully did not want to play along with this man, but obviously he wasn't going to give me any further information until I cooperated. This was absolutely ridiculous.

"I am sure  you already know what I am called. You have my chart. My name is there." I looked up at the ceiling and breathed deeply, letting the air out slowly. 

"You have an interesting way of wording things. What you are called as opposed to whom you are called or simply, your name. Do you go by an alias then? The name on this chart is not your legal name? Is that a safe assumption?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I want for you, miss, to tell me your name. The relevance of it existing in this chart does not matter. I need to hear it from you."

"Jane."

"Right you are. Jane, do you have a last name?"

"No. I go by Jane. Plain Jane."

"That's unusal. Generally people have three names, or at the very least, two. A first, and a last, and occasionally the third being a middle name. But I have met people who have dropped their middle names before. Am I to understand you dropped both; your middle and last?"

I sighed heavily. "Jesus. Stevens! Jane Stevens! Satisfied?" I shoved my head back against the hard pillow behind it. 
  
 "Quite. However, I am confused. Is it difficult for you to remember your name, Jane?" He asked as he lifted his clipboard and began to scribble again.

"No. I know who I am." I stared blankly at him.

"Then what is wrong with telling me your name?"

"Nothing. I just think it is ridiculous that you feel it necessary to ask a question for which the answer is staring up at you on the chart you are staring down at. You already know the answer so the question is absurd. Why should I answer you? I'm sure you were taught to read at some point during your many years of schooling for your doctorate. Were you not?"

"I suppose you're right. However, you need to get used to it. I will be asking you your name every time we meet. If you plan on keeping this up, you will be wasting a lot of time."

"My response will not change as long as your answer is written in front of you, so I guess we will be wasting quite a bit of time then." I looked up at the ceiling and tried crossing my bound arms again to no avail. Blasted handcuffs. I just want out of this stupid hospital bed. He then took a piece of paper out of the front cover of my chart and moved closer to my bed.

"Do you see this, and this?" He asked as he pointed to my name in two places on the page.

"Yes." I said skeptically. 

He then began tearing up the piece of paper and letting the pieces fall on my bed. "That was the only page in your chart with your full name on it."

I scoffed at him. "You have a back up. I am not stupid."

"No. I am afraid we don't operate that way here. That was the original and only. So there, I no longer have the answers to my questions written in front of me." 

I was at a loss for words. My mind went blank. I had no rebuttal. 

"See, I can be stubborn too. Don't test me." He looked pleased with himself. 

I can't wait to see what happens when Dr. Thatcher gets inside her head and begins treating her. ...Or will he just make matters worse? Back to writing I go!

~KD Hanes

My 2/2014 submission for Writer's Digest My Story competition:

“If you can guess what I have in my pocket, you can have it.” A gruff voice said.

Startled, I looked up to find a tall old man standing over me. “Excuse me?” I asked in a broken voice.

“Now I know your young ears heard me plain as day, so guess.”

I studied the old man. He was weathered, like he’d been through a war. He had thick white hair and dark, crinkled skin. I must have seen him in the mall before; he looked familiar. He tightened his white bushy eyebrows over his tiny eyes; urging a response from me. “Leave me alone, old man.” I barked, unamused.

“It’d end that ridiculous blubberin’ you’re doin’, but suit yourself.” The old man grumbled and walked away.

The next day, I returned to work as usual. The old man didn’t cross my mind until lunch time when I looked over the rail of the two-story mall and saw him sitting in the same lounge area where I had encountered him yesterday. He was talking to a woman who looked like she had no interest in what he was saying but was trying to be polite and listen anyway. He must have nothing better to do, than bug strangers; I thought to myself.

When my shift ended, I peered over the rail again. He was sitting there having a conversation with someone else, who also appeared uninterested.

I tried to sneak past the lounge area but in my peripheral I saw the old man notice me, hold up one finger to his audience, and rise to his feet.

He approached me and happily said, “If you can guess what’s in my pocket, it’s yours.”

“Look, I’m sorry you’re a lonely old man, but I don’t care. I’m not interested in your stories nor is anyone else.” I said harshly and continued on my way. A twinge of regret came over me. I hesitated looking back at the man, expecting a response. Instead, he glared at me through his bushy white eyebrows and twitched his thick white mustache in distaste of my behavior.

I did not work the following three days. I thought about the old man though, and how I could have been much more pleasant towards him. I could have humored him; he was old and there was no reason for me to be rude after all.

When I returned to work, my usual route took me past the lounge area and I couldn’t help but look for the old man who was not present.

“Welcome to work.” My manager greeted me. “You know you are not allowed to have visitors during work hours. I’m writing you up.” He said as he handed me three envelopes.

“What are you talking about?” I asked angrily.

“I’m aware you’ve been gone three days, but each day a white-haired man came by asking for you.”

“A man?”

“Yes. A friend of yours, or relative, I assumed. One more write-up and you’re fired. Get to work.” He ordered as he closed his office door in my face.

I thumbed through the envelopes. Great. The only white-haired man I knew was a complete stranger. I reached the last envelope, and realized it was much thicker than the others and not from my manager. I opened it and the letter read:

“Son, your attitude wasn’t appreciated. At this point I realize you don’t remember me. We met in a bar two weeks ago. You were drunk and distraught, thus bestowed upon me all your misfortunes. You were quite annoying, but then you asked me to guess what was in your pocket. Amused, I played along. To my sad surprise, you pulled out an eviction notice you’d just received - so I bought you another beer. We talked for hours after that; about life, lovers, beers... I took a liking to you and drove you home.

“Had you guessed what was in my pocket, judging by what I’d learned about you that night, I think you would’ve said ‘keys’. You’d have been right too. I had a key for you which went to a box containing the attached. My kids won’t like this, but I reckon you deserve it more than those selfish people.”

Behind the letter was the man’s Last Will and Testament leaving his home, and all his fortune, to a complete stranger.

“PS:” the letter continued, “There’s one condition; don’t be an angry person like me. See you in the next life, kid.”

It’s true what they say, laughter is contagious...especially when it is unexpectedly coming from two people who have unknowingly become an anticipated part of your daily routine.

Yes, I had the pleasure of a close encounter with The Charlotte Couple. Unfortunately, I didn’t actually speak with them - though maybe I should have - but I did get to share with them, a wait in line for one of my favorite fast-food joints at MacArthur Mall this afternoon instead of the usual view from my car across the way. As I stood in front of them, I was careful not to eavesdrop on their conversation, as tempting as it were, but I couldn’t help but notice the way they spoke to one another combined with the gentle, innocent laughter and joy they exchanged. They appear to make each other very happy, so much so that I could even feel the aura around us alter itself ever so slightly.

I’m not entirely sure why, but this anonymous encounter made me extremely happy and I left the mall feeling somewhat refreshed because my otherwise bad day became the slightest bit better. Perhaps it’s just the simple things in life. Maybe it’s the fact that I now know the observations of this seemingly budding relationship are in fact a reality that makes it that much more joyous. Or, maybe it’s simply just nice to know that in a world quickly becoming consumed with hate and animosity, there are still people who love and share kindness and happiness with one another (and the distantly observing world) which, in a way, promotes a sense of hope for us all.

Next time I encounter them, if I am fortunate enough to be presented with such an opportunity for a second time, I hope to introduce myself and find out if their story really is what it seems. Even if I don’t happen to encounter them again, I will always keep these two familiar strangers in my heart, being grateful for their encouraging display of happiness and wishing them the best in all their future endeavors.

As a writer, I occasionally find my self observing in order to find inspiration. Okay, the inspiration is just a perk, I thoroughly enjoy “people-watching” whether it sparks inspiration or not. I find it fascinating watching people go about their daily lives; some nonchalantly, some hurried and scattered. Recently, or more like over the course of the last three months, I have had the pleasure of observing an ordinary man and seemingly ordinary woman blossom a strangership into what appears to be a budding and potentially blooming relationship. I could be wrong of course since this is purely observation.
It started in March on a Wednesday to be exact. That is when I first noticed them. I was coming back to work; my first day back from an eight week maternity leave. I like to think this was their first encounter, but in my absence I can’t be certain. Regardless, I was sitting at the light of Charlotte and Monticello waiting to turn left across the new light rail tracks when a tall, balding man came into view on the sidewalk across the way. I would assume he is in his mid to late thirties. He was dressed in a grey suit minus the blazer. On his right side he carried a briefcase-bag, or so I call them. His left hand was in his pocket. He had a fairly solemn gait and stared down at his feet as he walked. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose three times in the minute and ten seconds I was stuck sitting at this light. He would adjust them with his left hand and continue on. Anyway, something caught his eye which caused him to look behind himself briefly.
Enter a blonde, shorter, lost looking woman. She was dressed in a frumpy, dark pants outfit; her hair was being halfway held back in a clip and she walked slowly with her head down also. This woman clearly caught the man’s eye because when he looked forward he immediately looked back behind him, stopped and waved at the woman. Generally speaking, one would have thought the two knew each other until observing the woman’s reaction. She stopped, looked around for anyone else this man could have been waving at, twirled a lock of hair when she realized she was the only other person sharing the sidewalk with the tall balding man and shyly raised her arm and waved meekly back.
The light turned green and I began making my turn onto Monticello. The man continued walking with his head down and his hand in his pocket, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. The woman seemed even more timid than before as I passed her, she had slowed her walk to allow more space between the two of them, but there was the slightest hint of a smile on her face also.
Fast forward to the following Monday, at the same location. This time the woman was walking ahead of the man but they seemed to be conversing with each other. Although I couldn’t hear what they were saying, I could tell it was just small talk because the conversation ended shortly before they reached the corner of Charlotte and Monticello. Her gait sped up ever so slightly. I could tell she was still nervous and uncertain of the man following her. Who could blame her? Being a single woman walking alone Downtown; anything could happen. Regardless, the tall, jacketless man was being careful not to follow too closely, respecting her space. I like to think he told her to have a nice day as they parted ways at the corner because she turned around and said thank you with a smile before crossing over Charlotte.
Over the course of the last few months I watched as this shy, lonely woman became cheerful and chatty with this man. The man’s demeanor has adjusted; he now walks with his head up and a newer confidence. The hand that always stayed in his pocket is now out and used for gestures during their conversations. The large awkward gap they kept between them as they walked has slowly closed so that they’re not quite holding hands yet, but they touch from time to time. He still wears his jacketless suits but her wardrobe has gotten tighter and more colorful; playful even. Her hair is generally worn down and straight now and they both wear huge smiles across their faces.
Today, she was in a tastefully short, sleeveless, pink dress which hugged her curves, accessorized with cute complementing flats. They stood, on the corner of Charlotte and Monticello, facing each other. I couldn’t see her face because her back was to me as I sat at the same light I always do each morning, but I like to think, judging by her happy swaying motion, that her facial expressions mirrored his with the same happy-go-lucky expression – like there was no other place he would rather be than in that moment, on that corner, sharing a conversation with her.

So occasionally I suffer from writer's block....couldn't imagine why; I'm only working on five projects right now! I thought it would be fun to do a question and answer session once a week to allow myself to open my mind and take a break from the creativity and research some interesting material, give advice or just opine on a few different subjects matters.

That said, if you have a thought, question, debate or want to see something reviewed, email me here and I will respond once a week in this blog! Now, if it is something personal, make sure you put "personal" in the subject line. And of course, no worries, everything will stay anonymous :)  

Go ahead, give me something to write about!

#hatewritersblock #lovetowrite