My apologies

Dear readers,
I have felt the need to address book 3 to you because I feel badly.

Over a year and a half ago my husband injured his head and was forced to work part-time from home. Unfortunately more recently (over the summer) he started feeling worse and hasn’t been working at all. I have been working full-time from home earning money to support the family, taking care of our children and the home. This has been quite stressful and time consuming. I’ve been very frustrated not being able to deliver book 3 sooner, because I had planned on being much further along than I am. BUT I want to assure you that I have made it a priority to work on it over weekends and free moments because Chance and Ana really want their story told. I am VERY excited to tell this story. It is very fun to write and I really can’t wait to release it. Do I have a release date yet? Unfortunately no. I don’t want to put the pressure on myself to complete it by a specific date, but I will let you all know when we are getting very close.

Want to help me out? If you love the series, share it with your friends! Tell them about it and if you have the time, leave a review so others can find to love Chance and Ana too.

Knowing there are people out there that care about my characters as much as I do warms my heart and I want to thank you for reading and leaving me notes. It means a lot to me. Now without further ado, I’m going to go back to writing, because we all know that’s what you really want me to do!

Natasha Brown

Cover Reveal for An Unfortunate Beginning

It is my pleasure to announce the release of book 1 of The Novel Adventures of Nimrod Vale, An Unfortunate Beginning. Available August 1st 2013 at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo. Now that this book has found it’s wings it’s time to focus on The Shapeshifter Chronicles!

Heroes Create Their Own Endings

NimrodValeFINAL2Nimrod Vale is convinced he is the unluckiest twelve-year-old alive. Life is hard when your name doubles as an insult, but he finds it is even worse when your mom dies. Nim is forced to stay with his only living relative, his Aunt Holly in Portland, Oregon. After settling in, he is ready to get lost in a good book, except his bad luck gets in the way when he tips a cup of steaming coffee onto his tablet. While his most prized possession is being repaired, Nim grows anxious to start writing one of his own stories, so his aunt sends him to the attic in search of his grandpa’s treasured fountain pen.

An accidental discovery reveals a desolate world that he thought only existed on the pages of his parchment. Nim prefers to pretend it never happened, and hide away in the school library. There he meets a loner named Pepper who gives him no choice but to be his friend, but when she discovers what he’s been hiding, she forces his hand. Nim then must choose to step up and help the fictional war-torn land or turn his back on the people who need him most.

The Novel Adventures of Nimrod Vale is a middle grade series meant for readers between the ages of 8-13+ yrs old

My Special Valentine

This is a blog post that was hosted recently on Best Selling Reads.

It was early morning. The sun hadn’t crested the horizon yet, and as we drove by the darkened homes I could imagine the people inside snuggled up in their beds, still catching those last minutes of sleep before getting up and starting their day. We were nearly alone on the highways while we drove east. The cold fingers of winter tried to pry their way into our van. Although I sat untouched from its reach, a bitter pain grew in my chest.

A flock of Canadian geese flew overhead. I’ve never understood why they choose Colorado over a warmer climate, but there they were, soaring through the bleak skies together as a large extended family on a winter holiday. The lopsided formation broke the silence with their honking as we glided over the black river of pavement, leading us to the hospital.

I turned around to look at her, my little angel, wide eyed in the back seat, too nervous to be tired or to watch the passing wildlife. When we arrived in the bright atrium of the hospital it had only begun to waken. Friendly faces, simple noises and smells distorted and numbed me. Time slowed.

Like a koala, she clung to me, her mommy. I was here to protect her, yet I was delivering her into the arms of pain. How could it make sense to her? Did she understand that we were only trying to help her?

Her voice was locked away, safe inside – the only thing that was in her control. When the time came and her eyes drooped into a soft and pleasant sleep, the nurses took her from me.

“We’ll take care of her. You’ll see her soon.”

The wait would have been unbearable if I had been awake, but I slept. I could not imagine a world without her in it. I refused to. So instead, I slept.

At her bedside, I knew I was where I needed to be. A motherly magnet, I snapped to her side, climbed under the covers and remained there, even as her poor body drooped and those terrible beeps rose, like a swarm of insects coming to frighten me away. Instead, a flurry of nurses clamored around us. Each held fluids and blood, ready to pump my sleeping princess with life so her delicate veins wouldn’t collapse.

This is one of the most painful memories I have. I’m sure you have your own – we all have them. This may not seem like a fitting story on Valentine’s Day, but it does have a happy ending.

My daughter was born with congenital heart defects like so many others, and has had two open-heart surgeries. When others focus on chocolates, red roses and sonnets, I am reminded of how lucky I am. My daughter is a healthy little girl and you would never guess the struggles she’s been through.

Heroes are born every day. I’m not talking about superheroes clad in spandex and masks. I’m speaking of the everyday heroes that walk the Earth like Clark Kent – in disguise. In fact, you probably know one, they’re not as uncommon as you may think.

I happen to have a very special hero of my own – my daughter. The scars that mark her chest will always be a reminder of what she’s been through. Even though her heart is unique and a little battered, it does not affect her ability to love or be loved.

So, this February and Valentine’s Day, rest well knowing you are surrounded by heroes, heroes who have battled and won. Who carry scars on their hearts, and keep going because they can.



Following her daughter’s second surgery, Natasha Brown wrote Fledgling, The Shapeshifter Chronicles (Book 1). She was inspired to write a story centered on a girl struggling with a heart condition. The novel was a finalist in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer’s Contest.

Mirror, Mirror

My teenage self

I remember when I was a teenager, wondering what it would be like to look into the future to glimpse my adult life. If I could just stare into the mirror and catch sight, a wisp or trace of what was to come. What will I look like? Will I be married? With kids? Where will I be?

Now that I think back to my innocent, and curious self, I wish I could send myself a message, a letter. It is really a message to all of the young and hopeful, or even confused and unsure.

Your life won’t be easy. In fact it will be downright hard at times. But never lose hope, because it’s the light inside you.

Never compare yourself to anyone else. You have the life you were given, and it is beautiful and special if you make it.

People care for you, and if you let them help you, you won’t be alone in your struggles.

It is never too late to follow your dreams and above all, laugh.

When I first dove into writing, it followed my daughters last open-heart surgery. I needed to create a world where I held the power to heal to her, and a place I could escape to. That is the beautiful thing about stories. They allow the reader (and in my case writer) an escape into a character’s life. An escape into another world.

My passion has grown and I wish I had enough time to focus on my writing full time, but unfortunately, I can’t. I am a busy mom, and web developer. Life has continued to challenge me and my strength. So much so, that I wish I could just climb into my make-believe worlds rather than have to deal with disability claims, my child’s behavioral issues, and paying numerous medical bills when money isn’t flowing like it used to.

As the holidays approach, and a chill creeps into the air I am having a hard time finding the spirit that has always carried me through the season. BUT, I do feel the love and support from my friends and family, who I am so grateful for.

Would my teenage self be disappointed to see where I am? I may have white hairs and bags under my eyes, BUT I also have accomplished more than I ever thought I would. I have more strength than I thought I had. And I’m not done yet.

I will keep writing. I will keep hoping. I will keep on until I can’t any more.